Ice Pirates Part II

16 July 17: So I've continued to work on my Ice Pirates story over the last week or two. It's coming along well, almost 6,000 words with about 1,000-2,000 remaining to write. I still have some work to do improving conversations, crystallizing visuals, and tightening the plot twists, but I am happy with the direction it is going in. I've never written a pirate story before! Barring any unforeseen issues, this story will be part of the Seasons Anthology collection from Wolfsinger Press sometime in the future. 

Below is the first three hundred words or so, to give you a taste. Tell me what you think in the comments! 

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Demons on the High Seas [working title]

“Contact,” the spotter up in the Crow’s Nest shouted to the sailors down below. “Horizon off to port, amidships!”

The first mate, a tall, tattooed, hardened hand by the name of Sea Dog Sam, yelled back a sharp “Heard!” to the sailor up in the basket on the main mast and headed toward the front end of the ship. He climbed the few steps to the fo’c’sle, the small raised deck at the bow of the ship where the captain of the ship was watching the waves.

It was cold this slow morning on the high seas, a Nor’Wester bringing a wintry wind with a chance of rain as the ship made the months-long ocean voyage to the New Lands. “Cap’n Connor.” Sam raised his voice to be heard over the biting air and salt water spray. “Cap’n.” He handed the master of the ship a hot bowl of porridge. “Compliments of the chef. There’s the usual complaints from the passengers and crew, nothing new from below decks. Spotter reports a ship on the horizon, amidships off to port.”

The captain nodded his thanks. This was their first run together, but they were meshing well since pulling out of port, with Sea Dog a fitting replacement into the crucial role of first mate.

Placing his breakfast on the railing, the captain uncovered his scrying stone. “Best take a look before I dine. Not expecting any company on our crossing.” Raising the clear crystal up, the captain scanned the northern horizon. “Ice Pirates!” he yelled, even before putting the precious gemstone away. “Damn and double damn, Sea Dog!” Captain Connor turned around and roared, “Helmsman! Hard to starboard! Bos’n! Run full sail south! Winder, get to blowing! All hands heave to! Look lively boys!” His steaming porridge went over the side as the ship turned, the small splash lost in the instant commotion from the crew of the ship named Breaker.

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For this blog entry, the picture below is what comes to my mind when someone says they have angry thoughts. Their head is ablaze with anger. They see red. I'm not sure if that is what the artist was thinking of when he or she created this piece, it is darker than a piece centered around anger should look like in my opinion. But it is rather evocative.