Chapter 1: Get a Job

Captain Lina Fairington shuddered with fear as she stared into the brilliant, jade-flamed eyes bearing down on her. Small, unnatural fires in his gaze radiated an arcane menace that shook her to her very soul. The tips of the leafy skin of her executive officer were blackened and tiny vines now crept all over his body. 

This man, this sylvari who’d once been her friend and compatriot, was now ravenous with a bloodlust unlike anything she’d ever seen before. Only a handful of her crew had survived the downing of her airship, Zhaitan’s Folly. Calden had killed them all. Now, after chasing her halfway across the Heart of Maguuma, he finally had her cornered with his sword at her throat. 

“Cal, please.” Her fingers clutched at the dirt. Acrid, magical ozone burned her nostrils. 

Lieutenant Calden just growled and stepped closer. Her blade lay just a couple feet out of reach, but he kicked it. Her heart sank as the sword twirled in the dirt and skittered over the cliff’s edge.

There was no recognition of their friendship in his eyes, only the murderous rage that had consumed him since the crash, since Mordremoth had brought the jungle to life to rip the Pact fleet from the sky.

Lina glanced around the rocky ledge. She had nowhere to go except over the cliff’s edge. Hundreds of feet below, the jungle teamed with dangerous creatures and enraged Mordrem. Without a weapon, she had little chance of surviving down there. Still, it was a better option than certain death.

Cal inched forward, his malicious smile growing wider. When he spoke, there was a strange, spine-tingling echo to it, “He hungers.”

Summoning the energy from within, Lina formed the pattern of magic in her mind. Nothing too complicated, there was no time for that. Just a simple... little… With a flick of her wrist, a blast of energy shot from her hand, showering him with dazzling sparks. 

Cal half-stepped back and shook his head to clear the confusing illusion. 

This was her chance—her only chance—to escape. Lina rolled to her left, plummeting off the edge.  The wind whooshed by; faint wisps of clouds dissipated in her wake. The jungle floor rushed up. With only seconds before she hit the ground, she reached back and pulled on the cord. The left side of her glider opened.

Lina’s eyes widened in shock. “Oh shi—” The sudden drag on her left side sent her into a dizzying spiral. Red dirt and green trees twisted in a blur. She squeezed her eyes shut and pulled the cord again, and again, but the other side of her glider would not deploy. It must have been damaged in the scuffle. 

Tears trickled out of her eyes, dried instantly by the air rushing by. This was it: she was going to die. Not at the hands of some dragon minion or deadly monster, but because her glider was stuck. A part of her wanted to give up, to whisper a silent prayer to Grenth and Dwayna and the rest of the Six, to simply let the ground rush up to meet her and end her struggle. 

But that wasn’t who she was. She wasn’t ready to meet the gods just yet. A flare of panic shot through her, and she pulled the cord again as hard as she could.

And the wing deployed. 

Her breath caught in her chest, and her heart skipped a beat. Maybe she wasn’t going to die today after all.

The wooden frame shuddered and creaked under the pressure of her descent. Her eyes snapped open just in time to see the first tree branch smack her in the face. More branches, leaves and bramble ripped at her leathers and bits of exposed skin. Thousands of tiny cuts tore at her. A scream erupted from her mouth, and her left wing snapped off. A second later, the right one broke away too. 

Then everything went black.

* * *

Jos bolted upright in bed. Her dark, soggy hair clung to her face as rivulets of sweat trickled down her cheek. She peeled the damp sheets from her body and turned to let her feet hang off the side. With her eyes closed, Jos let out a deep sigh.

She hated that damn dream. 

Wiping the sweat from her brow, she pushed the dream away. That was another life. Lina Fairington had been gone more than a year now, lost and presumed dead with the destruction of the Pact Fleet, just like the rest of her crew. Now, there was only Jos Blackfyre, captain of the shipping vessel Hiraeth.

Behind her, a lithe form stirred under the white sheet followed by a soft moan. Jos sighed again, snatched the mug from the side table and took a swig of the vessel’s remnants. The dark, almost burnt-tasting Black Strap seared her throat like an old familiar friend. At least this one couldn’t hold a sword at her throat.

With a grunt, Jos shoved herself up off the bed. 

“Where are you going?” a soft, sweet voice asked. 

Jos pulled up her doeskin breeches. “Have to get back to my ship.”

“Aww. Can’t you stay for just a little while? Maybe get some breakfast?”

Despite herself, Jos smiled. She didn’t dare turn around to let last night’s entertainment see her face. “Sorry, uh... Karin? My crew needs me, luv.” 

She knew that wasn’t the young woman’s name. Jos slid the white shirt over head and tugged on her maroon doublet. The flurry of movement behind her belied Marie’s irritation.

“It’s Marie.” The other woman bit back and scoffed. “You know, you’re no different than all the others!”

Jos picked up the bandolier holding her longsword sword and pistol and held it out with one hand as she shrugged. “Sorry. Am what I am.”

With an armful of clothing, Marie stormed over and yanked open the door in nothing more than her underclothes. “Bloody pirates.”

Harsh sunlight sliced through the dim interior of the room, forcing Jos to shield her eyes. “Hey, wait!” She shouted. 

Marie stopped and turned around, her bundled dress doing nothing to hide her enticing curves. She set her jaw and glared.

Jos did her best to keep a straight face, but her smile broke through. “Smuggler, thank you. Not a pirate.”

The other woman screamed through clenched teeth and stormed away. Jos’s smile widened at the girl’s nearly bare backside. “Damn, but I do enjoy that view.”

Once she was dressed, Jos stepped out into the midday light. She sucked in a deep breath, savoring the briny breeze. In the distance, seagulls cawed and hawkers cried out their wares. A hint of roasting meat wafted to her, making her stomach growl followed by a whiff of rotting fish. This was Lion’s Arch. And she loved it.

The walk back to Hiraeth, was not a long one, but under the already blazing sun, she grimaced with each step.

Holding up her coin purse, Jos noticed how light it was. Not that anyone had stolen anything, but just that her funds were running low. She turned south onto the main avenue and tied the purse to her belt with a wave of resignation. 

Today was the last day. She needed to find a job for her crew. It didn’t matter that she’d said the same thing for the last four days in a row, today was absolutely the very last day. And she would find a job. She had to.

As she approached the docks, the rigging of her ship poked out from behind the Great Monstrosity. At least that’s what she called it; though most people called it the Lobster Dock. Just another ridiculous part of the rebuilding of the greatest city in Tyria. She missed the old Lion’s Arch. Not that it had been particularly beautiful, but it’d had history and was familiar. In the back of her mind she cursed Scarlet, the psychotic weed of a sylvari who’d all but destroyed the Lion’s Arch she grew up in.

Jos watched as a young asura, slid down the rigging of Hiraeth. Half-way down, his hands slipped and he fell. 

Damn it. A fleeting worry flashed through her mind that she’d have to explain the young asura’s death to his mother. Not that it was her fault, just that he was too much of an idiot to stay alive on a ship that was not even moving. 

The asura screamed as he plummeted, only to be caught by Jos’s norn bosun, Jorg Bitterale. As she got closer, she recognized the familial shock of white hair, floppy ears and grey-purple skin. Jos had heard Nexx’s nephew was joining the crew; he must have arrived the night before. So far the lad didn’t seem to have his uncle’s dexterity or common sense.

“My sister’s progeny, ladies and gentlemen.”

Jos turned to the loud, shrill voice to find her first officer, Nexx, standing on the dock-side of the gangplank. His own white hair and grey-purple skin was a near match to the younger’s, though he was taller by an inch or two. The older asura shook his head, which barely came up to just below Jos’s breasts. 

It always amused and amazed her that such a loud voice came from such a small package. She chuckled as she approached. “Hopefully, he’ll get the hang of it before he falls to his death.”

“You don’t know my sister, and he takes after her. She has all the grace and delicate subtlety of a full charr legion on the march.” Nexx took a few steps toward her. “Oh, and not to be what you humans call a nidge, but—”

“Nudge, Nexx.”

Nexx shook his head. “Your human colloquialisms are ridiculous. Regardless, do we have a compensatory contract yet, Captain?”

Jos strolled right by and patted him on the shoulder. “Soon there, guy. Soon.” 

“I possess a better option.”

Her feet stuck to the ground, yanking her to a halt. An old, familiar itch prick on the top of her head signaled her apprehension. Nexx’s better options always made her nervous. “Should I be worried?” She turned slowly and eyed him through narrowed lids. 

Nexx’s ears twitched, sending a tingle down Jos’s spine. His ears only twitched when he was nervous.

“Um.” His gaze skirted the ground. “I mean, not worried. Per se.”

Jos let out a sigh as she rolled her eyes. “What is it, Nexx? Just please tell me it’s not the asuran Arcane Council again. I hate those little rats.” 

Her gaze landed on his wide eyes, filled with a mix of hurt and irritation at her comment. “And by rats, I mean politicians.”

Nexx’s head wiggled a little as he straightened his back. “Well, it is the Arcane Council. And frankly you, now you deserve whatever difficulty they give you.”

“You’re right.” A sigh slipped past her lips. “I’m sorry. Alright. They’re just so… ”

He arched an eyebrow. “Asuran?”

“No... stuffy.”

“So, asuran.”

“Yes.” Captain Jos grimaced. She took a grudging step forward. “Fine. At the Council’s Liaison Office?”

“I’m afraid not, Captain.” A hint of a smug smile appeared at the corner of Nexx’s wide mouth. “Councillor Grint is in your cabin.”

“What?” She pictured the disheveled mess that was her cabin. “Why?”

Nexx shrugged. “While I may not agree with the political machinations and bureaucracy of the Council, I couldn’t very well let him sit out here under this swelteringly torrid sun, now could I?”

“But my cabin?” She grimaced. Jos knew Nexx well enough to know this was not happenstance, that he reveled in this particular bit of embarrassment for her. He was far from shy about letting her know what he thought of her living quarters, often referring to them as a “pig’s domicile.”

Not that she cared whether her cabin was a mess or what anyone else thought, but she was not looking forward to the large, judging eyes in Councilor Grint’s face. The Councilor was compulsively fastidious and autocratic. That patch on the top of her head started to burned. Her hand flew up to scratch the spot. 

“He wanted to make sure you couldn’t avoid him.”

Captain Jos forced a grin and turned back to the ship. “Lovely.”