“What?!”

The group was struggling to move up the hallway with the boat rocking back and forth with each powerful wave. Black Molly was leading them, taking them back the same way they’d come to get to their cell.

“How many times am I gonna have to tell your friend the same thing!” Black Molly growled angrily over the noise of the storm.

“As many times as it takes it to sink in for him!” Aniko yelled back.

“Sink in?!” Aziminil grinned.

“I mean,” Colonel called again, “would we really die?!”

Black Molly just said nothing.

“B-But, we don’t know enough about boats! We won’t we able to do any good! We’ll still all drown!”

“A least we’ll die trying to help other people not die, which, if you ask me, is a pretty good way to die!” Aziminil said to Colonel cheerfully. “Plus, we’ll drown together!” she added.

“Not if one of us is thrown off board first!”

Black Molly just walked faster. “Stop it!” she snarled to them. “You’re gonna help us whether or not you want too, and if you die in the process, no one will care! So shut your traps and walk!”

The group continued to stumble forward, this time in silence, till the reached the same wooden door they had come through to get below deck. They could really hear the howling winds and pounding rain now. The door was soaked through, and pushing in its doorframe against the beating wind.

“Okay,” Black Molly turned to them and said, “Brace yourselves.”

Colonel gave a small moan. Black Molly slammed her shoulder into the door frame, pushing it open against the wind. Suddenly, River felt a blast of cold, forceful wind slap her in the face. She stumbled back a step, surprised by the force of it, and a couple of her party members did the same.

“GO THROUGH, QUICK!” Black Molly bellowed over the howling wind.

Aniko rushed forward, throwing her arms up against the wind. River followed suit. Colonel, Marigold, and Aziminil rushed after them.

Stepping outside, River felt the wind rush up and around her, catching her hair and clothes. It took her shawl and billowed it up around her. It took her hair and whipped it around her face. It grabbed at her bandanna, threatening to snatch it away from her. Pushing her hand up to steady it, River stumbled to the side, the wind pushing her toward the ocean. She staggered but held her ground.

The rain beat down hard on her like shards of glass. They stung her face and arms, making it hard to see.

Trying to see through the sheet of rain, River caught sites of other figures made into shadows by the dark night and sheeting rain. She rushed forward to one of them, and saw that it was Spoons. Upon seeing River, Spoons called wildly over the noise, “Что ты здесь делаешь ?! Иди туда за инструкциями! Прежде чем мы все умрем ужасной смертью! БЫСТРЫЙ!”

River, who had no idea what he was saying, simply nodded and followed his pointing fingers away from where he was working.

Rushing over, she eventually found a group fixing the mast, which had toppled over. Colonel Popcorn, Aziminil, Pistol Annie, Barnacle Bill (a man Black Molly had told them was out here though the party wasn’t very sure who he was), and a man covered in tattoos that River didn’t recognize were all getting ready to heft the mast back up onto its perch. River joined the end, listening to Pistol Annie’s count down.

“THREE!” she barked. “TWO! ONE!”

River threw her strength into lifting the mast back up. The pole groaned, unwilling to return to it’s work, but eventually, with enough strength, the group forced it back up. The goblin girl then rushed forward with a tube of some glue clutched in her hand. Squirting it all around the edge, she looped in circles. Barnacle Bill ran forward, forcing some complicated wooden device around the mast, locking it in place.

River stepped back, trying to admire their work, but was unable to see through the heavy rain.

A voice sailed over the wind, inaudible and distorted by the storm’s wailing, but the tone was enough for the group to recognize that their assistance was needed.

Rushing forward, River came close to another group. From what she could observe, they were trying to patch up a hole in the side of the boat. Suddenly, however, a gust of wind stronger than any River had ever felt blasted across the deck. Barnacle Bill, who was nearest to her, hunched up against the force. A few of the others stumbled, blown back a bit.

River, however, whose tiny size wasn’t really working to her advantage right now, was caught up in the wind and blown backward. Scrambling to find some kind of purchase, River flew into the edge of the wall.

River’s heart began to sink and her blood cooled as she toppled over backward against the wall.

River cried out in surprise as she plummeted quickly toward the rolling ocean waves. Throwing her hands out wildly, her knuckles grazed the side of the boat, but found no crack or crevice to catch on to.

Before she knew it, River hit the ocean waves violently, knocking the air out of her. Suddenly, she was beneath the waves, staring up at the rolling ocean. She attempted to swim back up, but the every time her head broke the water, the waves knocked her back down. River’s limbs began to weaken.

As she was trying desperately to stay afloat, the ship came looming up close to her, and her body slammed into it suddenly, knocking her head violently to the side.

Disoriented and confused, River floated down into the depths of the inky sea, her air bubbling out of her. Her mind began to numb with the lack of oxygen. There was no light, only the despair of imminent death.

She dimly wondered if anyone even noticed that she’d fallen overboard.

As she began to drift off, a strange feeling began to overcome her. It was like something made of despair was slithering into her. River passed it off as normal feelings associated with a premature death. But something was different about it, like it wasn’t meant to be there. Having some experience in this specific line of work, to River, the feeling felt magically orientated or something of the like.

But River was running out of air, and therefore running out of time and sense. So, instead of contemplating the meaning behind her strange feeling, she blacked out.

---

River sat bolt upright, heaving in big gulps of air. Her lungs burned. River knew she had been breathing normally for a while (miraculously she wasn’t breathing water in), but it was the fact that she was consciously aware that she was breathing that made it all the more rewarding.

She found herself on the hard wooden floor of the pirate boat. She was inside, still able to hear the wailings of the wind outside and the thumping of the pounding rain, but she wasn’t anywhere she recognized. All she saw was another long wooden hallway. Turning her head to the right instead, she saw the huge cell door, but this time she was gazing on it from the outside. She stood up shakily, mostly uninjured save several bruises and a pounding head, and made her way down the corridor. She noticed as she went that she was missing her shawl and bandanna. She was a very chilly with now only a soaking wet tank top, and she was very annoyed that her long blue curly hair was now tangling in wet, salty clumps around her upper shoulders. Eventually, she came upon the set of stairs that lead to the door leading outside. It still shook with the force of the storm.

She walked up to it, putting her ear to the frame, trying to catch noises that would give her an idea of where everyone else was. Barely, almost inaudible over the orchestra of the storm, she could hear voices.

River considered pushing the door open again, going to pull her weight to keep the storm from killing their boat, but something told her that it was a bad idea. Clearly, someone had saved her from the sea, simply tossed her into the interior of the boat, and left to continue aiding everyone else. Some small voice in River’s mind suggested that she go back into the fray, but a bigger voice convinced her that it was a bad idea. She still felt dizzy and unstable anyway.

River returned to where she had been thrown, considering what to do next. She didn’t want to move; her head hurt too much. Instead, she lay there for quite some time, losing herself in her tangle of thoughts. When she started to drift slightly to sleep, the door suddenly slammed open heavily and several people stormed in quickly.

Jumping, she sat up a bit as the heavy wooden door slammed close again, and she heard several people call, “RIVER!” then felt the rest of her party slam into her.

“Oof!” River huffed as the air was knocked out of her.

“River! You’re baaaack! How was the water?! Were there aqua-squirrels?!” Aziminil screeched into her ear.

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEEEEEAAD!” Colonel moaned.

“Will you let me do therapy on you now?”

“I was gonna hop in after you to become one with the squirrels with you but Colonel said no and–“

“How did you not drown?!”

“I THOUGHT YOU WERE DEEEEAAD–!”

“Was it fun?! Should I try it?!”

“And then you were like whoosh! and–“

“I thought you were such a goner, but–“

“Okay, okay!” Scurvy waved his hands to signal that everyone should get off each other and stand like normal people. River looked over at the rest of the pirate crew. Not everyone was there; just Pistol Annie, Spoons, Barnacle Bill, Scurvy, Queequeg, and Myrtle. Everyone looked really tired now that she got good looks at them. Barnacle Bill was leaning against against the wall with his eyes closed, Pistol Annie had her hands on her knees and was huffing silently, Spoons was slumped on the ground.

“You guys are gonna need to return to your cell,” Scurvy said in his gruff voice, now extra scratchy from having to yell over the storm.

The party grumbled unhappily, starting to trudge back to their cell. River picked herself up off the floor delicately and moved along with everyone else. That is, everyone else except Marigold.

“What’re you doing?” Aziminil turned to ask her when she continued to stand there, squinting.

“What’s that?” Marigold pointed toward the edge of the hallway wall.

Everyone, even the pirates, turned to look at the object of her scrutiny. River squinted her eyes as well, straining to see in the dim light. A dark, black slithering thing was slinking along the bottom edge of the wall. As everyone else strained to see it, it sped up, and it slithered up someone’s leg.

River looked up quickly in shock, trying to see who it was, and was surprised that it was Spoons. There was a small moment of shock and disbelief before he suddenly convulsed. Everyone jumped, some people scrambled back a bit. Spoon’s face contorted into fear, then struggle as he clawed at his throat. He made strangled gasping noises as he apparently tried to breath.

“Spoons!” several people called out in distress. Pistol Annie and Barnacle Bill rushed over to him, their faces pale, but neither of them knew what to do.

Spoons began to turn an unhealthy shade of blue, and while he struggled at his throat, River thought she could see a black band of shadow around it. She wanted to help but had nothing to contribute.

Suddenly, Colonel rushed forward a bit, twisting his hands into a complicated pattern associated with casting a spell. Muttering under his breath, he threw his hands out toward Spoons.

The dark shape around his throat shook slightly, then pulled quickly out, flopping onto the floor unceremoniously. It lay there for a minute, before jumping up quickly and slithering away in a crack in the wall.

Spoons slumped to the side, heaving breath after breath. There was silence.

---

The party was in their cell again, all huddled together in the dark. After Colonel Popcorn had cast Dispel Magic on Spoons, Spoons had been rushed off to the medical bay, and the group was put away for safekeeping.

They were catching each other up on their separate adventures, even though they were all tired, and everyone was a little bit scared. Colonel explained what happened after River had toppled over board.

It had been really hard too see, as everyone knew all too well, and only a couple people saw her go over. Aniko, himself, Barnacle Bill, and Myrtle were there, so when River went over, Barnacle Bill got her out again. He apparently told them later that he didn’t even know who went over, nor did he care, just threw Myrtle a rope, tied it around his own waist, and jumped over too.

Colonel, who had unfortunately seen who it was, was craning his neck over board trying to see if River was alright, and would have toppled in himself had Aniko not grabbed the back of his shirt. The group helped tug up Barnacle Bill when he pulled on the rope and had, thank god, saved River, who was coughing violently. She had only looked half-conscious, and so Barnacle Bill had tossed her inside before returning back to work. The group had tried to get out of work to go after her, but no one let them.

After that, they had just done other tasks to keep the boat from toppling over, though no one could concentrate very well on their work.

After Colonel had described their time after River had almost drowned, River told them that she was totally fine (not mentioning her headache). She did have to assure them that she was entirely fine and not about to die from hypothermia, a concussion, squirrel deficiency, broken bones of various types, and her own inner demons, and she eventually explained that she’d only just woken up before they’d come in.

Colonel was overjoyed that River seemed to be mostly alright, but he was still terrified of the thing that had attacked Spoons.

“What do you think that was?” he said, shivering at the thought of it.

A couple other people shivered at it too. Aziminil wrapped her scarf around her neck tighter, and River pulled her knees closer to her body. Everyone was soaked through and terribly cold.

“Nice job saving him,” Aniko muttered in the silence.

“Thanks,” Colonel replied. “I like Spoons.”

Though you might not have been able to tell in the dark, everyone else nodded in agreement.

They quietly discussed ideas of escape for a bit more, mostly just to pass time. Colonel hadn’t heard Aziminil in awhile, which for her usually meant that she was asleep. Marigold was still rambling about an unrelated topic, but it was punctuated with frequent yawns, and she sounded very tired. Aniko was still “mmhm”-ing every now and then, but it was very noncommittal. River’s breathing was even and deep, a sure sign of sleep, and she hadn’t said anything either in awhile.

Colonel was on the verge of sleep, enough that he couldn’t really tell whether or not he was awake still. He was too tired after the stressfully day, and even though Marigold was still rambling tiredly, the ships slow rocking eventually lured him into a sleep as well.

---

Colonel was the first awake in the morning. He sat up. It was still dark in the cell, but some of the hall lights were on again, and his eyes were accustomed to the dark.

He looked around. Aniko was lying slumped on the straw pile, snoring loudly. River was next to her, deep in sleep as well, strands of her hair still clumped around her face. Marigold and Aziminil were to the left of him. Aziminil had an arm thrown over Marigold, and Marigold was face down, but still breathing.

As he sat there yawing, he heard footsteps come down the hall. Colonel sat straighter as a clunk noise issued from the lock outside. The huge door creaked open and Pistol Annie’s face peered in at them.

Seeing Colonel awake, she jerked her head to the side and said, “Come on. Get up.”

Colonel stared at her for a bit. “Uh, do you mean, me or everyone else, or–“

“Everyone. Cmon.”

Aniko and River were stirring in their sleep, stretching out their arms and sitting up slightly. Colonel awoke Aziminil and Marigold, and, poking more at Aniko and River, got them all up.

“What’s going on?” River asked Annie, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

“We’re taking you all to the medical bay,” she said as she lead them down the hall.

“Why?” Aniko asked warily.

Pistol Annie sighed, “You saved Spoons, and so we thought we’d help you.”

She took them down to the medical center, a room Colonel had never gone in. Pistol Annie opened the door for them, taking them in. Inside, a man with a scratchy apron filled to the brim with terrifying tools stood in front of them. There were several other beds, three of which were occupied.

Salty lay in one, a huge bandage around his head. He was snoring obnoxiously, still asleep. In another bed was a small halfling with his arm wrapped up. In the third bed sat Spoons, as bright and cherry as ever, up and awake.

He brightened when Colonel walked in and waved at him merrily.

Colonel waved back. “Is he okay?” he asked Pistol Annie.

“Yeah,” she shrugged. “He can’t speak well, though. Sore throat.”

“Все в порядке! Никто не мог понять меня раньше,” Spoons said in a scratchy voice.

“I have no idea what you said,” Colonel sighed.

“именно так.”

“He’ll be fine, I made sure of that,” the man in the apron said.

“Who’re you?” River looked up at him.

“Leech,” the man said. “Doctor Leech.”

Pistol Annie rolled her eyes. “He’s a barber doctor who happens to take himself a bit too seriously,” she said to the party. “Mainly just uses leeches.”

“Leeches are affective!” he sniffed haughtily.

“Well,” Annie rolled her eyes, “here’re your new patients to check out.”

After checking everyone in turn, Dr. Leech concluded that everyone was pretty much okay. Somehow, Marigold had gotten a broken toe without noticing, and everyone else just had lots of sore bruises and muscles and the likes. Dr. Leech suggested leeches, Pistol Annie suggested time and rest. Most of the people in the party took the second route, but Aziminil was having lots of fun covering herself in leeches and laughing about how ticklish they felt.

The party eventually left Dr. Leech and Pistol Annie took them down the set of stairs at the other end of the hall. Everyone in the group was still confused and tired. But instead of turning into one of the nearest rooms, Annie took them to the very end of this hall to a room labeled “Captain’s Corridors.”

She banged on the door violently. “DEEEEREK,” she called through the wood. “I have the prisoners. Did you ever decided what to do with ’em?”

“Please come in!” Dereck called back.

Pistol Annie sighed and shoved her shoulder into the frame, pushing it open. As Colonel and the others entered, Colonel noticed that the room was extremely messy. Not obviously messy, but the kind of messy where you were too lazy to properly clean your room. Things were shoved to the sides, little trinkets and such pushed out of direct sight.

Pistol Annie walked up to Derek’s desk, the party following behind her. “Why, thank you, Annie Sweetie for bringing the prisoners to me!”

Pistol Annie scoffed. “I’m not your personal servant! I went to go see Spoons and did what we decided cause I was already upstairs.”

Derek blushed a little. “Don’t embarrass me in front of strangers,” he whined through his teeth. Pistol Annie rolled her eyes and turned to face the other person in the room. Scurvy sat in the chair that faced Derek’s.

“Did you guys make a decision yet?”

Scurvy sighed. “Yes,” he said. “Derek, would you like to do the honors?”

Derek brightened and stood up, clearing his throat. “Esteemed prisoners,” he began, “due to the heroics you showed when helping our party member Spoons, and due to your assistance with repairs to the ship, we’ve decided that we will let you stay aboard our ship till we reach our next destination where you will be set free and not killed! We would all like the give you our gratuity.”

Pistol Annie put her head in her hands. Scurvy stood up a bit and whispered into Derek’s ear. He blushed.

“Gratitude. That’s what I meant, of course.”

Colonel Popcorn stared at Derek in disbelief.

“Y-You mean,” he stuttered hesitantly, “we… won’t die here?”

Derek scrunched up his face. “Uuuuuh,” he said, “prolly not? One would certainly hope not!”

Colonel couldn’t believe this. He wouldn’t die on a pirate ship! He could get out of here!

“Of course,” Derek said, “you are kinda our servants until we reach land. Just so that’s clear. If you don’t do what we say….” He mimed shooting them, complete with sound effects.

“Oh,” Colonel sighed.

“You see,” Scurvy pitched in, “we need help with something specific.”

“And what’s this?” River cocked her head to the side.

“Y’know that… thing… that attacked Spoons?” Pistol Annie turned to them.

There was a brief moment of silence. “Y-Yes?” Colonel squeaked, knowing what was coming next.

Derek sighed. “Well,” he began.

“We kinda…” Scurvy hesitated.

“Need to you hunt it down and kill it,” Pistol Annie finished.

---

Creators PotatoCat and SquirrelHat would like to apologize for the possibly horrible Russian translations used for Spoons’s dialogue. However, since they both don’t known Russian, they were forced to used an online translating site and have no idea if it’s accurate or not. Thank you!

---

Writing done by PotatoCat. Editing done by SquirrelHat. Art done by PotatoCat. Coloring done by SquirrelHat.