Alto

(Written by Alexstrasza)

The night was still and silent. The full moon hung high over the water, casting long bands of pearlescent moonlight over the blue-black sea. The Curse of Fortune chugged lazily through the brackish water, its portside hull throwing shadows several stories tall over the Gladeveins estuary.

The Curse of Fortune was a massive ship. Despite its imposing size and terrifying silhouette, it belonged to neither merchant marine nor pirate; the flags flown beside its leathery masts were stark white, and the standards facing out from the ivory banisters lining the upper deck bore the insignia of the Plaguebringer. A handful of Spirals circled the ship tirelessly from above, all watching the water or barking orders at the score of Mirrors scuttling around the boat. Polished bone and tanned flesh sealed shut holes in the hull and patched over tears in the sails, giving the vessel the look of a floating behemoth coasting dangerously across the midnight sea.

Below deck, about a dozen dragons - mostly crew members, judging by the burgundy scarves tied around their bodies - were scattered across the living quarters. One, a deep gray Wildclaw swathed in black, red and silver, sat on a red floor pillow at a splintered dining table, a massive goblet of cactus wine clasped between his claws. A scarlet Nocturne draped in black silks was seated opposite him, her wings folded down over her like a cloak as she shook a dice cup vigorously in both hands. The Wildclaw watched his companion closely, golden eyes unblinking as the smirking sailor cast the die out over the wood.

His eyes took a second to adjust. He craned his neck forward, stooping in his seat to get a better look at the numbers. Six - three. He glanced at the dice he cast moments before, lips curling into an ugly snarl. Before anyone around him could process what was going on, his glass of cactus wine soared halfway across the lower deck and smashed violently against the planks, sending the remainder of his drink trickling down through the floorboards. The gaggle of Mirrors surrounding the pair cheered and hollered in response, their spirits lifted by the sudden chaos.

“Alto,” the Wildclaw’s company said plainly, her short, black claws coming to rap on the table. “Get yourself under control.”

“Me? Take a look at yourself. I chalked the first five rolls up to chance, but this is way too far. You’re clearly cheating.”

The Nocturne stared at him for a moment, shocked speechless, then tossed her angular head back and barked out a laugh. “I’m clearly cheating. Oh, that’s rich.” She stopped abruptly, then leveled her head to get a good look at Alto through squinting red eyes. “Of course I’m cheating, you dullard. My boat, my rules. Now, pay up.”

Alto stared back at her, just as silent in his incredulity as she was moments before. The long, hooked claws on his big toes rapped anxiously at the ground. “I already paid you everything I owe for the trip. Why can’t you bet normally? You know, bet some real dice?"

The Nocturne lay her hands flat on the table and pushed herself up to get a closer look at him. “Why can’t you bet normally? Give me a break, man. No more moralizing on my ship. Why wouldn’t you cheat if you knew I was cheating too? Boring. Now pay up and shut up, unless you want to swim the rest of the way to Mirrorlight - or get dredged up by someone else."

The Wildclaw bared his teeth a little wider, then glanced down at the coin purse fastened at his hip. He exhaled abruptly, nostrils flaring out, and brought both hands down to open it. After a moment, he raised his hands and opened them over the table; a handful of shimmering gems and dumped them unceremoniously beside the captain’s drink. “Whatever - have your money. Fun’s over anyway. You just drained my wallet dry. Might as well find a different chump to leave destitute.”

The captain pouted mockingly, her jagged teeth poking past her lips. “Fun’s over? It doesn’t have to be, but if you’re that torn up over it, I could see about getting you some work. You know, 'work'? The way most dragons get their gems?”

“I know what work is," Alto replied, his eyes narrowing at the captain's cold emphasis. "I work all the time.”

“All the time, huh. ‘Killing guys,’ as you like to call it, isn’t what I would call work.”

“Debatable.”

The Nocturne ignored his half-baked refutation. “Look, man, if you’re this much of a sore loser, I’ll cut you a break. You can keep eating the good meat here - for free, do you hear me? - until we dock at the promenade. Then you can go out on a job for me.”

Alto slouched forward in defeat, his head coming to rest gently on the tabletop. “Ugh..."

“Is that a no?”

“I'm flat broke now, so it’s a yes. Tell me who you need me to kill.”

“Who I need you to kill? I told you how I feel about your main vocation already. There’s not going to be any guy-killing in my name. You’re going to help me repatriate some artifacts to the Wyrmwound.”

Alto melted further into the table. “That sounds pretty boring.”

“Work can be boring, but this isn’t boring. For you it might be, but I would kill to be out there doing this instead of chasing three dozen Mirrors around a boat all day. Besides, this is twice as dangerous as cutting someone to ribbons is for you, and a lot more important, too. I need you to sneak around these stuffy Imperials with your stupid Wildclaw body and recover three tablets for me."

Alto rolled his eyes. "What's so dangerous about that?"

"If you get caught, they'll probably crush you half to death and launch you into the sea."

"Ugh,” he grunted again. “No, they won't, but the sneaking sounds fun for what it is - good enough for me. Before I agree to anything, though, what're you offering?"

"Ugh," parroted the Nocturne, grinning again. "Five thousand."

"Coins?" For a moment, Alto looked like he was going to be sick.

"Gems."

The look of malaise around the Wildclaw dissolved immediately. He scooted a bit further across the table, his head lifting and resting again to accommodate his adjustments. “Ten thousand percent return on investment, huh? Fine, I’ll go out there and get pushed around a little, if that’s what you’re offering, but we’re going to link up alone in the city to make the exchange, just you and me. I’ll send a courier out your way to arrange the meeting when it’s time. That sound good to you?”

The captain tilted her head back again, this time to mull Alto’s terms over in silence for a moment. Finally, she eased forward again, reaching her clawed hand across the table to shake on it. “Sounds good to me, Alto. Believe me, there’ll be way more glory than money to be won from this, but we can talk about the details later.” She stretched her hand forward a little further, now nearly straining, as though to make a point. “Now, is it a deal?”

Alto eyed her hand carefully, then sighed once more and stood, leaning far over the table to grasp her hand in his.

“It’s a deal.”