Dread Pirate Iona adjusted her tricorn hat as her commandeered ship cut through the waves, flying Ionaâs personal flag.
The Wakacola sea wasnât the largest sea on Pallos, but it was the one that fell under the Valkyrieâs ever-shrinking area of protection. Unfortunately, after the goblin catastrophe and the practical fall of the order, there were less than two dozen Valkyries left, which had them stretched to the breaking point trying to cover everything.
Which meant some problems didnât get the attention they needed. Some problems grew.
Like the rampant piracy problem on the Wakacola sea.
Grandmaster Sigrun was stubborn. She refused to shrink the scale that the Valkyries operated on, or the territory that was under their protection â and that, in turn, paid them. That hadnât stopped other Orders, Sects, nobles, and anyone else who thought they could steal a slice of the pie from encroaching on their territory, luring away towns with promises of prompt protection.
Iona was conflicted on the matter. On one hand, she saw Sigrunâs point. The Valkyrie order would come back, one day. By letting it shrink, the size they could grow to in the future, and the speed it would occur at, would be limited.
On the other, if Sigrun had properly reevaluated the size the Valkyries could operate at, people wouldnât have gotten hurt. There wouldnât be pirates on the Wakacola sea. The Valkyries would have more time to train new recruits, although the pool of candidates would be shrunk.
Iona was a full Valkyrie, and one of the extraordinarily rare people to be permitted to have a combat class above 256 without being sworn to nobility. A perk of the order, which the [King] of Rolland had yanked once news of their diminished size had reached him.
Not before Sigrun had made absolutely sure that every surviving Valkyrie had classed up past 256 though. Thereâd been some grumbling over it, but theyâd technically followed the laws as written. From what Iona could tell, the lords and ladies were slightly annoyed, and had decided.
Theyâll die out soon enough. No sense in kicking up a fuss now. Just play the long game.
Which had Iona â and the surviving Valkyries â pissed.
They would not go gently into the night.
Nor would they swear themselves to a noble, and let themselves get absorbed, becoming just another elite unit under some duchess. Their independence was just one small part of their pride.
Which, from what Iona had gathered, was causing some more subtle tensions. Not all the nobility wanted the Valkyries gone. The king, in spite of yanking their ability to have more large classers, had given them some support. Mostly in the form of public speeches and a break in taxes, but it was more than nothing. It wasnât like he was some fantasy [Absolute Ruler], able to do what he wanted. No, he needed consensus, and to get other nobles on his side. Which, in this particular case, he had some. Not all of the nobility wanted them gone.
The only ones that wanted them to stick around lived nowhere close to the Valkyrieâs lands, and gained nothing if they were fully eliminated. However, their rivals would gain.
In short, the only people that cared for the Valkyries because they were Valkyries, and not because they stood to gain or lose themselves â were the Valkyries themselves.
Still. There was more territory, and more problems, than the Valkyries could handle, and Iona was given more-or-less discretion to decide which problems sheâd tackle.
She unfolded a letter with well-worn creases, which had prompted her to visit the Wakacola sea, and handle the pirate problem.
My dearest Iona
While our time together has been nothing short of extraordinary, I am deeply saddened to inform you that my father has discovered our relationship. He has delivered an ultimatum to me â marry Matthieu dâBaschet of the Baschet Trading Emporium, a most unpleasant man which I have told you about â or join the Abbey of the Guiding Waves.
I always knew that one day I would need to make a choice like this, and my answer was easy â I have elected to become one of the nuns at the Abbey of the Guiding Waves, as a more peaceful life calls to me.
We always knew our time together would be short, a brief fling, two ships passing in the night.
Do not cry for me! I am happy with my choice. My only regret is that I was not able to see you one last time, not able to place one last kiss on your red lips. I was not able to feel your hands along my tail. I was not able to...
The letter got quite a bit more lurid after that point, to the point where even Iona was flushing reading it.
If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.
Yours,
Sister Julie dâAudrey.
Well. If it was Julieâs one regret that sheâd never see Iona again â Iona was going to fix that.
A small voice whispered in Ionaâs ear that this might not be the only letter Julie had sent out, but that was between Julie and the other letter senders.
It helped that the Abbey of the Guiding Waves was on the Wakacola sea, and Iona was killing quite a few birds with one stone. Handling the piracy problem, seeing her old friend, possibly for the last time, and making sure that the Abbey where her friend was going to wouldnât be bothered by said pirates.
All in all, a fairly neat and tidy arrangement. Sigrun hadnât even raised an eyebrow when Iona had come and requested the assignment, the dust from her old job still on her boots.
Not that any of the Valkyries had time to get the dust off their boots. Too much to do. Which neatly looped around back to Ionaâs thoughts on reducing their size, and taking the time to properly recruit and train the next generation.
Big, flashy deeds were great for recruitment thoughâ¦
Iona once again thanked her Patrons for her not being the Grandmaster, and someone else having all the headaches.
"Whatcha got there?" A nasally voice came from over her shoulder, and an embarrassed Iona whirled around, mentally reaching for her armor, ready to slam it into position, and physically reaching for her axe.
It was just Woodrow âBirdâs Eyeâ Payne, one of the more reputable pirates, if such a thing existed. Iona had started small, and by "small" she meant "quietly requested passage on merchant ships until a pirate ship eventually visited, and murdered nearly the entire pirate crew." It spoke to just how bad the pirate problem was that itâd only taken three trips for her efforts to bear fruit, and not years.
It amazed Iona that anyone was even still trying to ship goods around.
The merchant crew had looked more than a little green as Iona had single-handedly slaughtered her way through the pirates, only sparing a few of the weaker, less combat-inclined ones.
Still, Iona couldnât crew an entire ship by herself, nor did she even have any idea how. Hence, she spared a few of the more cowardly pirates, those without a [Piracy] class or skills, to better sail her brand-new ship around for her.
Ionaâs ability to look at peopleâs skills â all of them â was quite the boon. It wasnât perfect, but Birdâs Eye lacked any fighting classes or skills, which made his story of being gang-pressed into service by pirates believable. The skill helped in fights in other ways.
"None of your business. You should go swab the sails or something." Iona retorted back.
Sheâd spared him, and a dozen other pirates, to form some semblance of a crew.
And directions.
"You sure? You do spend a lot of time... looking... at..."
Birdâs Eye trailed off as Ionaâs look steadily grew stormier with every word he said. She towered over him, and wasnât afraid of using a little intimidation. Especially not when it came to her personal matters.
"How about I get back to swabbing the deck or looking for ships, eh?" Birdâs Eye said, quickly clambering up the line to the crowâs nest.
Iona sighed, and turned back to the waves. They werenât moving fast, but the pirates had been working together.
"This is a terrible mistake." Petey âCowardlyâ Paddley said. "Lord Admiral Bloodpyreâs going to kill us all." He cried out.
Iona gave him a flat look. Nobody with the name âLord Admiral Bloodpyreâ was going to scare her.
"Yeah, yeah, youâd kill us faster..." He muttered under his breath, continuing to haul lines as needed.
Iona hadnât threatened anyone â not directly. Sheâd simply fought and killed most of the pirates, and had started yelling orders out to the remaining pirates, whoâd decided not to argue with the one-woman wrecking crew.
Iona was slightly out of her depths here on the ship, and was somewhat regretting her choices. Still, the ship was moving, and with the collective spine of the remaining pirates not enough to support a mannequin, she wasnât afraid of treachery, or them steering her wrong.
No way were they going as fast as they could. Or doing everything properly.
Iona eyed a storm that was starting to brew on the horizon, weighing the chances of the ship making it through intact.
Ah well. Worst-case, she could swim. Being a physical Classer was awesome.
She leaned forward on the bow of the ship, taking a moment to enjoy the spray of the waves, and the rocking of the boat. Iona spent a few moments letting the sea water spray her long hair, then turned around, leaned back, and took in the view of the ship.
She could see most of it from where she was, and it was an interesting angle. Iona took out her notebook and a pencil, and started to sketch the scene, as seen from where she was.
Everyone needed a hobby, and Valkyrie Duskâs was one she could practice on the road. It was somewhat useful to boot, as her practice [Drawing] occasionally came in handy when she needed to sketch out a personâs face, or make a crude map.
Mostly, she drew the people and places sheâd been. When she came back from a mission, she dropped off her notebook, got a new one, and kept going. It made a sort of travelog of her journey and adventures, snapshots into each of her missions.
One day sheâd get a companion, and if nothing else, sheâd have more time on the road to sketch.
Less time overall, as companions needed care, attention, and love, but more "on-the-road" sketches.
Possibly new points of view! Most certainly new subjects to draw. Sheâd have the cutest companion!
Iona finished with a sketch of the ship, and since the storm hadnât quite blown in yet, she flipped the page, and decided to sketch Birdâs Eye, high up in the crowâs nest.
Interesting view. Iona mused, as she tried to get the line of his jaw just right. Might give him the drawing when Iâm done.
Might be good for morale.
Iona continued working through the night, [Gaze of the Galaxy] giving her near-perfect vision.
Fortunately, the storm mostly missed them, and was extremely mild.