One word. Dice.

Here’s some refs that I found I can’t find any of the original posters so credit to them I did not make these obviously.

Spooky season Einar!

Disclaimer which I’m including in all my works after plagiarism and theft has taken place: I do not give my consent for my works to be used, copied, published, or posted anywhere. They are copyrighted and belong to me.

___

Surprise! A story out of the blue! Hope you like it.

Content: a human who faces daily discrimination for being one of the only humans in a relatively isolated society of non-humans, non-explicit/detailed mention of unwanted sexual/physical contact (it’s brief, but it’s in there - paragraph beginning ‘Still, they couldn’t be any worse than the naga…’), a reader who was orphaned at a young age, a dread pirate captain who’s actually a total softie, a motley crew of pirates who are also all secret sweethearts, and a tiefling friend who wants the best for you. And a briefly spicy ending. Enjoy? Wordcount: 8710

___

For all its pretty beaches and steady flow of gold and goods, Cutthroat Cove was hardly the kind of place that people aspired to reach, and it wasn’t the kind of place people lingered once they washed up there, humans least of all.

To get off the island, you had to find a pirate ship willing to take you, and the price of passage was usually dearer than it first appeared. Most of the crews didn’t like humans aboard either, which was another odd stacked against you.

“To the Empress!” A shout went up from the furthest corner of the dingy tavern, and tankards were raised in a jeering chorus of howls and inhuman noises. You glanced up from where you’d been drying off the wooden mugs that Harrow had just finished washing, and you watched as the crew of the Blackbird, flush with fresh plunder, began a familiar toast. “May she continue shitting out shiny gold coins for us to keep plucking out of her fat little merchants’ hands!”

Their laughter filled the small, low-ceilinged common room and made your ears buzz. There must have been a siren among them, you thought distantly as you shook your head to clear it. No one else seemed affected, but a nearby patron — a triton leaning heavily on the wooden bar — leered toothily at you and flared the fins on the side of their head in a mocking sneer.

As you turned away to diffuse the situation, your elbow caught a bottle of rum on the edge of the counter. It teetered and would have smashed had Harrow not grabbed it with his prehensile tail and shunted it back to safety. He shot you a warning look and rolled his dark eyes affectionately. A creased dimple appeared in his cheek and the tiefling smirked a fanged smile at you before throwing a wet dishcloth in your face. “Watch it, clumsy,” he snorted playfully. “Honestly. What are you like?”

“Thanks,” you mumbled and tried not to watch too closely as his purple tail uncoiled slowly from the bottle. Perhaps it came from being raised on a mostly non-human pirate ship, or perhaps you’d just been made differently, but your fellow humans had never done much for you, and in fact, the less human someone looked, the more likely you were to find yourself tripping over your feet around them.

With another sigh, you turned to see to a goblin with blood red hair who had just leaned over the bar to yell an order at you above the clamour in the room, a gold ring glinting in her nose, when the door flew open and a small harpy boy flapped inside, with his feathers all ruffled and his chest heaving from a wild flight up the hill to the tavern.

“The Widow’s Web docked down on Rum Quay fifteen minutes ago!” the boy panted, wide eyed and sweaty faced. “And they’re coming ashore!”

For a moment, the entire, packed tavern went completely still. Everyone seemed to be holding their breath. Someone set down their tankard with a loud clunk but for a good ten seconds, that was the only sound in the whole room.