Threadbare - 72Interlude 8: Basic Cagna

There was no reply to her message. Threadbare was supposed to be a Scout, according to Celia, but she wasn’t sure what range he had so this wasn’t unexpected.

Cagna hunkered down among the rocks, eyes on the lanterns of the ship that they’d spotted from miles away. The little catgirl doll had spotted it first, and that irritated Cagna, but what could you do? She was sure she had a better nose, but Kayin had better eyes, so it was only fair.

Cagna had sent Kayin back to get the others, and taken cover behind the biggest rock formation on the slope. And then she had settled in to wait.

Wait and hope that the little fluffbrain wouldn’t get distracted halfway through and go scavenging for catnip or something.

She’d felt her heart sink when the final roster was announced. And then drop completely when there was a last-minute change, and their best wilderness asset got swapped out for a crazy half-orc.

Still, the half-orc… Zuula, had proved to be useful. They wouldn’t have been able to get into position in time without her.

The catgirl… the jury was still out. Maybe literally.

Cagna had been a guardswoman back in her home city-state of Arretzi. She had been a detective, one of the polizei who was skilled at finding the truth in confusing situations that involved crimes. She was one of the few beastkin in Laraggiungere to achieve such a high position within a city guard. The unkind whispered that it was only possible because the ruler was a beastkin as well there, but she liked to think she had risen on her own merits. It comforted her.

It was a comforting thought, because from what she had seen, most beastkin didn’t.

Their species on the whole tended to age faster than humans, much faster than dwarves and halven and similar types. And certain types of beastkin were even faster than that. And again and again, Cagna had been called in to deal with crimes involving beastkin who had given up on getting ahead legally, and decided to take a shortcut into illegal business of some sort or another.

And a whole lot of them were cat beastkin.

It wasn’t a dog versus cat thing. She had gotten a whole lot of ragging about that back in the station. Cats were fine by her. It’s just that cat beastkin were usually flaky assholes who couldn’t be trusted with anything that didn’t interest them. And they were so easily bored that unless you could manage to keep up with their whims and give them constant attention and entertainment, their motivation went right out the window.

Cagna had exactly zero time for that sort of bullshit.

So she was really, really hoping that Kayin could stick to the mission here. And that creepy undead catgirl dolls weren’t as bad as regular cat beastkin.

She stared across the distance in the meantime, whispering “Keen Eye,” and sharpening her vision so she could see the shadows moving around the lanterns. This part was easy. This was a stakeout, and she was polizei. This part she knew, and as she watched the ship and the figures that walked or climbed on it under the moonlight, she wrote down notes in a small book, little helpful things that would help them during the next part of this business.

This little notebook of hers was full of facts about the Cotton Tale, its crew, and their damnable captain. She had started it weeks ago, when it descended out of the sky and landed next to their campsite on one of the highest peaks of the Yelps. Cagna had known it would be trouble, even before Captain Anne had strode out and offered them a lift to civilization in exchange for all their valuables.

She didn’t say what would happen if the little party of travelers said ‘no.’ She didn’t have to.

But Chase had been fine with the entire endeavor, and the little group had made it this far by following her lead, so Cagna had gone against her better judgment and surrendered what coin she had on her. At least they hadn’t taken their weapons, or any other bits of their equipment.

And there was something Anne Bunny hadn’t known about.

Madeline the dragon had been out of the camp when the airship arrived.

Cagna knew that the wooden dragon would chase them to the ends of the world if need be. After all they’d been through, after the months on the trail, Madeline was a dear friend and above all she was loyal to those she adopted.

That was something they had in common.

And while she wasn’t sure about the oddly beautiful little porcelain woman, or the catgirl who had more red flags than a bullfighting holiday, or the half-orc who seemed to find horrible things funny in really inappropriate ways, Chase was sure about them and had asked her to do her best to keep them alive. So she’d do that.

Also it didn’t hurt that the tiny teddy bear Paladin was one of the most loveable and good people Cagna had ever laid eyes on. If Cagna could have gotten away with it she would have cuddled her to sleep at night, and used her as a pillow, and she was pretty sure that Fluffbear would be ecstatic to help with that.

Cagna shook her muzzle. Her mind was wandering. She focused back on the deck, and the task of trying to figure out the watch patterns.

Then the wind whispered in her ear, and she closed the notebook with a snap, grinning. Finally! The catgirl had come… through…

The voice wasn’t the catgirl’s, she realized.

“Hello, this is Threadbare. I’m sorry I couldn’t respond earlier.”

“Please try to avoid killing anyone. I want to try to uncover more information. I need time.”

Cagna blinked. Then she growled, low and to herself. Had he come to a positive relationship with his captors?

You saw this sometimes, with people who had been kidnapped and held for a time. Especially if they’d been treated nicely, fed, and given all the comforts of home. That was why it was called the Stocked Home syndrome.

But it was awfully soon for that. He’d been kidnapped for what, two days? And according to the briefing, he was using illusions to pretend to be the pirates’ true target. And the longer he did that, the more chance there was that the illusions would fail. He had to know what would happen then. Pirates were basically a vengeful and chaotic lot, and Anne was no exception. She’d react poorly; after having spent weeks with the woman, Cagna was certain of it.

And maybe that was the problem. He’d only known her for a few days. Maybe he thought he was stable?

Cagna chewed it over, and decided this was a complication above her pay grade.

Fortunately, she didn’t have long to stew before she was pleasantly surprised.Kayin’s voice whispered in her ear, and the news was good.

“I’m back! Bringing everyone with me. We’re almost to you.”

“Still in position. Got some things to talk about before go time,”Cagna responded.

To her ears they were loud, as they crept up the slope behind her. She ignored them, focusing on the deck, watching the shadows move as best she could. The bunnies were sharp-eared, and this was a good distance, but still she watched, making sure her people were safe. All it would take would be a few good cannon shots, and the rocks in front of her would be no shield.

No alarm sounded. No cannon belched fire and smoke and death. Instead firm hands clasped her shoulders and gave them a squeeze.

She leaned back into her Muscle Wizaard, and relaxed for the first time in hours as the others found their way behind cover.

Bastien was his proper name and he was her rock, her pool of comfort in a world that rejected order and common sense and did its best to take things from her without giving anything back. She’d never expected to fall for a human, let alone a traveling Wrestler, yet here they were. He was her man, and she reached up and covered his right hand with her left, feeling the iron cords that were his tendons as he massaged her shoulders. Squeezing his fingers, letting him know without words that she loved him.

“What’s the play?” Thomasi asked, settling in to the side of her, taking his shiny hat off as he peered over the rocks.

Thomasi was Thomasi. She’d never trust him completely, but the strange human’s intentions were good. And he was useful in a pinch.

Just maybe not now.

“I know what we talked about, but they’re down too many crew. Infiltration’s probably too risky.”

“A pity. Though even for me, a female rabbit beastkin disguise would be a bit much…” Thomasi replied.

“What do we have?” Celia whispered.

“There’s not many of them there. Only two or three people on deck at a time, I think,” Cagna said, holding her notebook to the moonlight and riffling the pages. “The ship is grounded, so if we can get towards the front or rear, we can keep out of the arc of the cannon. Problem is there’s a lot of ground to cover before we can get out of their arc. Also, Threadbare used a Wind’s Whisper to talk to me. He wants us to avoid killing crew. Says he needs more time to figure out more information.”

“More…” Celia’s eyes closed with an audible click. “Why?”

“He didn’t say. Want me to ask?”

“Please.

“Wind’s Whisper Threadbare. Celia wants to know why you need more time? What information?”

The reply came within seconds. “Someone is paying the pirates to do this. I need to find out who.”

Cagna passed this along, and Celia practically vibrated with anger. “We can ask the prisoners, after we’ve beaten them!”

“Voice down please,” Thomasi whispered.

“We might not be able to ask prisoners,” Cagna said, not liking the truth, but saying it anyway. “Anne’s a bandit. Their big trick is transferring damage to their subordinates. If we don’t take down Anne quickly, then she’ll transfer every big hit she takes to her crew. We have to either hit her hard with everything we can as fast as possible, or this mountain is going to be the grave of every other beastkin on that ship.”

“Oh that’s horrible,” Fluffbear squeaked. “I mean… if it happened we could try to talk to the ghosts they leave behind. For a little while anyway. Maybe they’d tell us?”

Cagna shared a glance with Thomasi and Bastien.

Thomasi caught the cue, and tapped the brim of his hat. “I expect Anne is the only one who knows the details of their employer, if anyone does. And she’s… stubborn.”

“We could kill everyone except her first,” Kayin said, and Cagna felt her ears go flat. She suppressed a growl.

“Zuula approve of—” the half-orc began, but Cecelia shook her head.

“No,” said the porcelain warrior. “But removing her crew from play before we take her on seems like the best strategy. Does anyone know the range on her transferring trick?”

Cagna did. “Normally it’s only effective so long as the user is within arm’s reach of one of their band. But pirates get a trick that extends it so that it affects any crew of theirs who are on the same ship.”

“So all we have to do is get them off the ship,” Bastien said, musing.

“There’s also the werebunny,” Kayin said, her own ears going flat. “He’s going to be a handful.”

“We’ve dealt with lycanthropes before,” Thomasi said, and Cagna shuddered, remembering that business with the werewolves. “I can keep him busy while everyone else focuses on Anne.”

“No great loss if he die when she Bandit damage over to him,” Zuula shrugged.

“Unless he’s the one who knows about their employer,” Thomasi pointed out.

Cagna saw Celia stiffen and hold a hand up, turning as she patted her ear.

“Woop!” Kayin said. “That’s the signal for a whisper. Everybody shhh…”

Celia shook her head, and punched the air.

“What’s that the signal for?” Cagna whispered.

“I think it means she’s angry,” Kayin said.

“Threadbare just whispered me,” Celia said. “He’s going to keep fixing the engines. He doesn’t want rescued yet. Glub and Renny are with him, as planned.” She grabbed the side of the rock, leaned against it, head low and hair over her eyes.

She was shaking.

“Do ah, do you want us to whisper back to him?” Cagna asked.

“I admit it’s not a bad idea,” Celia said, as she reached into her pack, and with a CLANG, a heavy suit of armor the size of a tall, broad man landed footfirst on the ground. “But I didn’t come all this way to NOT get my bear.”

Cagna’s ears perked up, and she saw Kayin’s rise also, as shrill shouting came from the direction of the ship.

“They heard that!” she barked.

“Oh, they’re about to hear more. Go start sneaking, I’ll distract and draw the cannon fire,” Celia said, as she opened the chestplate, and stepped inside her dormant steam knight suit.

Cagna’s eyes went wide. This was not a good plan! This was in fact going to be a shitshow!

Fortunately, she had planned for something like this.

“Move people, we’re hooking north to the front of the ship! Kayin go silent, I’ll cover everyone else. Don’t attack until we’re out of the arc!”

Five out of six of them scrambled… and Cagna growled, glancing back at the half-orc, who was decidedly NOT moving fast. “Hurry up!”

Zuula waved. “She wait for you at de ship. Beast Shape One Owl.”

Oh. Right. Shamans could do that.

But that left five people to cover, most of whom weren’t that great at stealth.

Fortunately, Cagna had gotten a lot of levels, leading her team over the Yelps for several months.

“Mass Camouflage,” she whispered as the rest of them moved.

And as they moved, they faded from view, taking on the hues and textures of the slope under them.

Just in time, too. There was a whump from the direction of the ship, a whistling noise, and a light burst high in the sky, illuminating the terrain for miles around. An alchemical load, what they called flares, Cagna knew.

“Stoker Feed Activated!” Celia shouted, as mechanical noises came from behind the rocks.

Cagna had heard of Steam Knights. They were mainly a northern thing. Definitely not stealthy, because the noise from the armor’s mechanisms were carrying for miles up here, where there was nothing to block the sound.

Also she was shouting the skill activations and being really, really loud about it.

The light of the flare flickered and cast the slope in a yellowish hue, and the first rolling blasts echoed from the ship as the cannon came into play.

Cagna hunched her back and ran faster. The flare was ironically helping them navigate the slope. It was bad terrain, slick with icemelt from the colder part of the peak above, and strewn with plenty of rocks.

Most of them overshot the rocks by a country mile, but upslope a plume of dirt and rocks geysered up, and Cagna felt shards whistle over her head. Someone grunted in pain to her side, but she couldn’t spare a look, just ran.

“Boiler Shunt is Go!” Celia screamed, and steam whistled from metal pipes. The skill had to amplify her voice somehow, they were a good ways away from her and she wasn’t that loud normally.

When Madeline came to rescue them, when she’d attacked during the storm, Cagna had spent the fight counting the time between cannon volleys. And that time had been roughly forty seconds.

Things were hopefully different here. The Cotton Tale had lost a lot of crew, so the reloading would probably take longer. The ship was resting at a weird angle, so not all the cannon on the port side could target the rocks or the slope. And she was pretty sure some of the cannon had been damaged during the retreat from Cylvania City. All of that probably added time

Cagna looked ahead, to the ground they had to cover, judged the distance, and figured they had three minutes of running before they were out of the arc of the port side cannons.

PER+1

Normally a stat gain would have cheered her up. Especially for perception, it had been a very long time since that had risen. But this was one of those situations where it just drummed home how deep in the shit they’d gotten.

The cannon fired again and she cursed. She hadn’t counted. Forty seconds? Fifty? Surely not more than a minute. She whipped her arm up to cover the right side of her face, and pressed on, focusing on the ground ahead of her, ignoring the WHUMP as the slope behind her exploded. Ignoring the flecks of pain as stone needles peppered her tail and backside.

These are my best pants, she thought, annoyed. Good thing we have an animator along for mending.

If said Animator didn’t get herself killed. She cast a glance backward in the light of the dying flare, and saw that the rocks were about gone.

“Clockwork Engaged!” Celia shouted.

Sweet Nurph, how long did it take to start up one of those suits? The damned thing had better be able to carry the ship home by itself for all the trouble this had caused them.

And now they were close for her newly-sharpened ears to make out words in the enemy yelling. “Red numbers, captain!” she heard from the ship ahead. “Red numbers to the north by nor’west, three parts out!”

“Sneakers!” Ah yes, that was Anne. “Load cannister and give them what for!”

Cagna’s blood ran cold.

The last two volleys had been cannonballs. They were made for range, and punching big things very hard. They caused shrapnel damage too, when launched into stone or some other unyielding surface, but the main effect was a solid strike at distance.

Cannister was different.

Cannister was a lot of little balls the size of a fat grape tucked into a load of powder, then set off in vaguely the right direction of the thing you wanted to turn into pasta sauce. Cannister covered an area, you really didn’t have to aim it, just get in the neighborhood. And with enough cannon firing in synch, there wouldn’t BE a neighborhood for long

Cannister would scour the slope like the hand of an angry God, and Cagna and Thomasi and Bastien would die.

Thomasi, no great loss. He could come back if he had to.

Bastien not so much.

She snapped her head to the front of the ship, measured the angle and how far her friends probably had to go.

She thought over the cannon from the brief look she’d got at the gunnery deck inside the ship. Weighed how long it would take to swap out shot loads, how long it would probably add to the reloading time for this cycle.

And with a sinking heart, she knew it wouldn’t be long enough for her people to reach safety.

“Linkages Aligned!” shouted Celia, and for a split-second, just a flicker, Cagna hated her. Hated her for jumping the gun, hated her for putting them in this situation…

…but that wasn’t fair, was it? She was saving her loved one. And she had weighed the risks. And decided the course quickly. Celia was a leader, and Cagna had put herself in a subordinate position. There was no point in doing anything but following, and trying to help the pack succeed.

And that made her realize what she had to do; the risk she’d have to take.

“Party Whisper,” Cagna said, wincing as fifty sanity drained from her.

Cagna: Get to the front. I’ll try to draw fire to the rear.

Bastien: What? No! Don’t get dumb! Just run!

There was no more time for discussion. Cagna skidded to a stop, then wheeled around and ran, skinning her pistol from its holster.

Without looking she fired a shot at the ship, then ran southwards, curving around as fast as possible.

And while she still had breath,she gasped “Wind’s whisper Threadbare. They’re going to shoot cannon at me in a moment. Stop that if you can.”

It was a longshot and she didn’t expect him to be able to do anything. If he did, great. But there were a few other things to try first.

“Always in Uniform, Shield Friend,” she chanted, reaching behind her and drawing a small buckler out from her cloak.

Your Shield Friend skill is now level 31!

The metal must have caught the almost-faded light of the flare, because there was a feeling like a punch against it that caused her to spin halfway, followed immediately by the CRACK of a gun. Her hand ached, and she couldn’t spare the time to check to see if she had all her fingers.

At this distance that shot had to be from Anne, and Cagna grinned, cheeks flapping a bit in the wind as she ran. If she had Anne’s attention, then her plan was working.

“Aim ta the red, me hearties! Load and fire at will!” Anne bellowed cheerfully.

Then the flare faded, guttering away to darkness and nothing, and the night was heavy despite the white moon overhead. The slope grew trickier without light to see the rocks and divots and potentially ankle-breaking obstacles, but Cagna was nimble, and she managed to stay on her feet as she ate up the distance with loping strides.

It wouldn’t be enough. She could hear the grinding of metal wood as the cannons shifted to face her. She was mostly in the dark now, the flare about out, but rabbit beastkin had ludicrously good perception. They knew her general direction, and she knew what was coming next.

And that was when Celia exploded out of the rubble that had been the rock formations.

“Boosters!”screamed the little doll, voice amplified through the suit, as twin jets of flame appeared out of nowhere behind her armor and propelled the compact but heavy suit straight toward the ship.

In this, Cagna saw her salvation.

She angled her dash, angled and slowed, trying to time it right, knowing there was no way to get it done perfectly, watching Celia roar past her, slightly off the ground, the mechanical and magical suit screaming by and streaming fire and steam…

And when she heard Anne yell “Fire!” Cagna judged the angle and leaped, tucking herself into a ball, keeping Celia between her and the ship.

The cannons roared their fury.

And after a heartbeat, Cagna knew she was alive. If you heard the sound this close, and still drew breath, then you had been spared. But oh did her head hurt, and oh was her hearing gone, replaced by a whine that wouldn’t stop.

Then the ground shook near her, and she saw Celia’s armor, the jets of fire gone, staggering and dropping, releasing its blade to steady itself as it fell to one knee. There was a gash on its helmet, twisted metal flapping in the moonlight. The rest of it seemed intact?

Then she realized why.

The airship was moving. Off the ground and rising, shifting in the moonlight as surprised crewbunnies ran back and forth, battening the hatches, securing the rigging, and whatever hell else pirates did on pirate ships.

It had moved at exactly the right time to throw the cannon off. The bulk of the shot had passed over Cagna, and just caught the side of Celia’s helm.

The bear had come through.

LUCK+1

Still, looking at Celia’s suit, if she hadn’t gone to ground for cover there were pretty good odds she might have lost her head.

“No!” Celia yelled, and her armor chugged to its feet, pistons pumping, gears ratcheting, as she charged the ship, charged and leaped…

…but too late.

A couple of guns fired at her from the railing as she came in, but they pinged off her leaving red ‘1’s and ‘0’s popping out of her head. But they needn’t have bothered. Cagna saw that she was going to fall short of the ship by a country mile.

And beyond her, she also saw a lone owl silhouetted against the moon, going in for a dive.

The others were still out of position, she knew. She also knew she still had party whisper up.

Cagna: Let them go. You too, Celia. You and Zuula are the only ones who can get on the ship at the minute, and they’ll overwhelm you if you do.

The owl flared its wings and swooped away.

The Steam Knight fell, hitting the slope hard, with a clang and a rattle.

And the aiship lurched east, gaining speed and altitude as it went.

Cagna breathed hard, sitting there on the ground as the sparking flare finally died.

For now, it was over. But only for now.

Cecelia: Dammit.

Bastien: Now what?

Cecelia: We pursue. And we coordinate with Madeline. Next time we hit them, I want a dragon to help even the odds…