Competition - Writing

Family Matters

"And she's right!" Admiral Du'Nai bellowed, slamming his clenched fists into his impressive, wooden desk. Instinctively reaching for the toppling candles and cups, captain Villeneuve tried everything within his power to soothe his fuming superior. Seeing him this angry concerned the morale of the entire fleet, for it was a rare sight. These kind of emotional escapades weren't supposed to stand a chance against the bolstering arrogance and unbreakable bravoure which the admiral usually harnessed. It appeared that some dark and ill-willed forces had given the admiral the idea that it would've been a fantastic idea to visit his neglected next of kin, his young and mysterious daughter. Captain Villeneuve was hardly the only one who knew that this was a bad idea, but no one in their right mind would dare to convince their admiral that his sudden enthusiasm around family time was in fact a very ill timed endeavour. And now they all paid the price. Well, captain Villeneuve, as one of the admiral's most trusted companions, was the one paying most of it. So here he was,  sitting on a stool too tiny for comfort, waiting for a chance to actually interrupt his complaining admiral. To add injury to insult, their ship the 'Sand Banker' was officially under attack by the infamous Bloodsail Buccaneers, who must've spotted them trying to sneak away from Pandarian waters.

Occasionally struck by violently ejaculated saliva, captain Villeneuve took another look at his pocket watch. He'd give it a few minutes tops, then this private meeting would be decorated with glowing balls of pirate iron. Even though perforation by cannonballs started to sound like a preferable alternative to his current situation, he figured it would benefit everyone if he managed to get the admiral out of his rage fit as quickly as possible."I have been in debt with figures even Stormwind's  king wouldn't dare to defy, but I never faced a debt I could not repay. Coin, weapons, ships, oil... There's never been a payment I couldn't pay off with the wealth surrendered to me by the waters of Azeroth." The grande posture of the legendary admiral 'Cliffbreaker' finally allowed itself to collapse into a comfortable, bordeaux red fauteuil. Captain Villeneuve seized the opportunity. "But of course, admiral! The Alliance would offer you the treasury of Stormwind to have you lead their navy! Every man and woman on the Debt Collector wouldn't dream to question your reputation! You have a fleet who would follow you over the edge of the world!" he said, desperately trying to place the precious ego of his admiral back on its socket. Admiral Du'nai waved the flattering words away. He stared up at the low ceiling of the officer's cabin. "This is different, captain. She's the first creditor I have ever feared. It's keeping me awake at night. How am I to repay her, friend? After all this time? What can I do to make up for all that I owe her?" Captain Villeneuve swallowed before replying, caught off guard by the sudden informal addressing. "She's not a creditor, Tocha. She's your daughter." That last word struck a nerve. The troubled admiral leaned forward to reach for a crystal flask of expensive wine, and sloppily poured himself a glass full. A moment of silence allowed for contemplation, paired with a few swigs of wine. Both men spent some minutes staring ahead of themselves.

"I should be with her, Villeneuve. I should've resigned a long time ago. I'll spend time with her, look after her. You see, there will never be time. There will always be that next important voyage. If I don't do it now, it will never happen." The admiral let out a long, deep sigh. Villeneuve carefully pondered on this for a minute, planning a new diplomatic approach to the deteriorating situation. He knew damn well that the fleet could not lose an admiral of the likes of Tocha 'Cliffbreaker' Du'nai. More importantly, the Cartel would never allow him to just go ashore.  After all, the last time Du'nai actually made landfall to visit his lovely daughter, he came back covered in blood and fruit, topped with a very, very sour mood. If this situation was the result of only a few hours of distraction, it appeared that it was essential to keep the admiral occupied with more important business. Profitable business. The girl would be worse off with her father nearby anyway. Rumours told that she was doing more than just fine. ...A Gilnean though? Man, it were times like these Villeneuve was glad he had kept his distance from his possible children. He twisted his curled moustache, frowning deeply. Surely there had to be a way to keep the admiral on board. If he couldn't be the one looking after that poor girl, it had to be someone else. It was evident that the admiral wasn't planning on letting go of the daughter protection program. All that had to be done was to find the perfect substitute, paired with an excuse soothing enough for a neglective father to let go of his recently surfaced conscience. Which poor sod could be sacrificed for this babysitting adventure, though? Who among his crew would he trust around his own daughter? That last thought brewed up some images which he quickly suppressed with a horrified grimace on his face.

Captain Villeneuve's scheming session was violently interrupted by a loud explosion which seemed to blow up the entire cabin. A cannonball had taken the privilege to bless the cabin with two new sources of daylight. Admiral Du'nai didn't seem half as winded as his conversation partner. Instead, he got up from his comfortable position and slowly made his way to the smoking hole in the side of his cabin. There, he sighed deeply, quietly plucking at the splintered wood, gazing outside. "Bloodsails, I presume?" muttered admiral Du'nai in a fashion as if he had just spotted his mother in law approaching his front lawn. "Y..-Yes , admiral. This is what I came to report to you originally. Before... you know." responded captain Villeneuve, scratching the back of his neck.

More distant thundering cannons disturbed the abandoned peace, now joined by ringing alarm bells and blood stilling gurgles and screams from the main deck. The loud ambience was apparently not the only thing trying to end the conversation in the officer's cabin, as the cabin door, slightly jammed by the first impact, slammed open. A grey snout appeared, followed by the rest of the monstrous figure entering the cabin. A vicious looking beast, saliva dripping from uncomfortably large, sharp fangs. The creature addressed captain Villeneuve: "Capt'n, we's gonna need ya on deck. Pirates comin' in 'ard." Captain Villeneuve rolled his eyes at the worgen. "You don't say, Bloodtooth? We'll be right out, thank you." Only now the worgen noticed the admiral, who had taken a seat behind his desk again, staring at his fine crystal. "Forgive me, admiral Du'nai. I forgot you were here." The worgen made a faint attempt at a respectful bow, then turned around to leave, only to be prevented in doing so by captain Villeneuve, who grabbed him by the arms. As a child proudly showing off a new dolly, captain Villeneuve held out the confused worgen at admiral Du'nai. "Admiral! I've got it! Now that we have concluded that you are indeed incapable of spending more time with your daughter, allow me to suggest a worthy substitute! This is a loyal crewmember of mine, W. Bloodtooth McMurder. He will go ashore and join whatever order your daughter is part of in your place."

The admiral wasn't overjoyed. He inspected the rather intimidating looking beast, even though it was currently held at him like a little puppy. "Neptulon's mercy, captain Villeneuve. What was it? Slaughterface McDeath?" The worgen was about to correct him, but admiral Du'nai had already decide to proceed his rant. "I want her to be happy and looked after, not ripped to shreds!" Villeneuve failed to suppress a disappointed frown, taking another look at his supposedly great idea, before realising his mistake."Oh, forgive me, admiral. You got the wrong idea! Woody isn't all saliva and teeth! ...E..-Even though I can see why you'd assume that. Woody was once a Gilnean butler, you see? He's my most reliable and respected crewmember. Woody, by Neptulon, show some decency!" The worgen, finally released from his humiliating grasp, widened his eyes in shock. He quickly shoved his furry paws in his pocket, presenting a neatly folded handkerchief. After taking his sweet time unfolding it, which seemed no easy task with claws the size of baby hands, he used it to carefully tap his mouth, clearing it from dripping saliva. After another impressive folding session, he cleared his throat and began to address the dumb stricken admiral. "I beg your forgiveness, admiral. I hope you can bring up some understanding for my rather savage appearance, as my current occupations require me to rely on my recently acquired 'additions' rather than my original talents. Captain Villeneuve speaks the truth, I was and am indeed a respected butler." The suddenly well spoken worgen concluded his explanation with a respectful bow.

Admiral Du'nai caught himself gazing at the worgen and quickly shut his mouth. Villeneuve peered at him with anticipation. By the looks of it, the admiral didn't seem to think this was such a bad idea after all. Captain Villeneuve was aware that the admiral wasn't very fond of Gilneans. Something had happened between Du'nai and the Gilneans and it had left the admiral with a permanent grudge against the hairy buggers. The fact that Du'nai had spotted his little girl near the claws of one must've been a major factor in this upset. By suggesting to send another Gilnean, captain Villeneuve cunningly struck two flies in one hit. Sending Woody would mean one less Gilnean on Du'nai's fleet, and a Gilnean would know how to deal with a fellow cursed citizen, wouldn't he? The explosions and screams outside intensified. Smoke had entered the room, as well as bloodstained water that found a way through the wrecked cabin door. Captain Villeneuve felt sweat dripping off his forehead, as he watched his admiral. The admiral sat for what seemed like an eternity, unstirred by the commotion, lost in thought. Then he nodded to himself, picking up his flask of wine again to raise it at the two men in front of him. "You're right, captain. I cannot and shan't abandon my duties. We'll send the mutt." An wave of relief swept through the room. Admiral Du'nai reached for some more cups to share his wine with, only to be interrupted by yet another deafening howl and impact of a well aimed cannonball.

Splinters of wood soared through a thick curtain of smoke, toppling a closet and finally unhinging the tortured door. As the thick fog started to clear, admiral Du'nai was revealed staring at his hand, covered in a ticking layer of saw dust and speckles of wine. The fancy wine had been shared with his colleagues in an unintended way, as only the glistering neck of the now ex-flask remained in the palm of his hand. The trail of the cannonball appeared to have roamed straight through a cabinet, through the crystal flask and barely missing Woody the butler before politely taking its leave through the other side of the ship. Before admiral Du'nai could express his disappointment over the loss of his anticipated pinot noir, he and captain Villeneuve discovered that W. Bloodtooth McMurder wasn't as 'barely missed' as they thought he was. In fact, even though none of them were experts in worgen anatomy, it wasn't very hard to detect that some vital body components had either gone missing, or were still busy leaving. It was hard to make out over the gory gurgling, but the worgen managed to utter a squeaky "I'm awfully sorry for the inconvenience, captain." before his head lolled forward, followed by his large body as it collapsed like a wet sack of meat.

"PRIEEEST!" Captain Villeneuve screamed at the top of his lungs through the broken doorframe, regretfully trying to hold his footing in some slippery pieces of late Woody. Despite the overwhelming background noises, the sound of hooves running over the wooden upper deck managed to announce the approach of the summoned crewmember. The priest, an exotic looking fella, blue of skin and adorned with jewellery, make-up and baggy clothing, didn't need further instructions upon arrival. He immediately sank to his knees next to his fallen crewmember, using his experienced hands to collect some scattered, vital parts in order to start a healing process. All the meanwhile, captain Villeneuve turned to look at the admiral again, who was busy dusting himself off while muttering some vile curses. He took a moment to regain his composure and addressed captain Villeneuve: "I don't suppose you have a second best man for the job, captain?" Captain Villeneuve prepared himself to disappoint his admiral, but suddenly changed his mind. He blinked, then slowly turned his head towards the struggling priest, who was busy trying to identify what organ went where as if they were pieces of puzzle. When admiral Du'nai joined the captain's stare, the Draenei looked up. As he absently stuffed a liver back into the bleeding carcass, he met the stares of his audience with a confused look. "Why you look at me like this?" Shapur asked, followed by a loud squish as the liver clicked in place.