the long leg attached to the boot to see the bushy black beard of a burly attacker. The sailor brought his other boot up in a fierce kick to Korm’s face, sending him spinning, weaponless, to Hurmat’s feet.
“You should have joined us when you had the chance, Calladan,” muttered the Vudran, looking at Korm and the two bodies next to him on the floor. The Garundi’s neck still seeped dark red blood, albeit less enthusiastically than before. He didn’t move. Delmios squirmed upon the floor, moaning softly. Hurmat stood against the door, licking his lips as he decided how to strike the killing blow. Behind Korm, the black-bearded sailor, a squat half-orc deckhand, and the ship’s hook-nosed quartermaster blocked escape up the stairs. Korm’s saber rested on the floor behind them near the first step to freedom. But even if he could somehow make it through their legs without being killed, he’d still have the rest of the crew on deck to deal with. From the howls and screams thundering down the stairs from up above, they seemed energized as ever.
Hurmat spoke from before the door. “It’s all over for you. I’ll raise a toast to Korm and Aebos as we divide the meal. With the addition of these two,” he said, gesturing to the Garundi and Delmios, “we’ll not be hungry for a week or more.”
On his knees before Hurmat and with little energy to spare, Korm managed a crooked smile. “You forget, Hurmat, that yours is not the greatest hunger on board. I kept my friend behind closed doors not for his protection, but for yours.”
Hurmat raised a dark eyebrow at Korm’s bravado and opened his mouth to retort, only to flinch terribly as the door behind him shuddered from a tremendous blow from within. His face curtained with sudden worry, Hurmat turned toward the sound just as a hairy, meaty arm as thick as a man’s thigh smashed through the door. A massive hand grasped Hurmat’s face like a boy grips a ball, and the Vudran released a short squeal of terror as the powerful fingers squeezed his head. From the floor Korm heard the cracking of bone.
Then, in a moment, the arm flexed and pulled Hurmat through the door and into the dark room beyond, shattering the broken portal. Hurmat’s screams echoed through the ship’s underdecks, and must have been audible all the way to the crow’s nest.
The armed sailors at the foot of the stairs exchanged terrified glances. Korm chuckled, balancing himself against the wall as he rose to his feet. A looming presence emerged from the darkened cabin, stepping into candlelight to reveal the form of a giant garbed in a rough leather garment stitched together from the skins of unknown beasts. Hurmat’s blood coated the creature’s powerful hands and forearms to the elbow, streaking across a barrel chest and up to a wide, angry mouth filled with irregularly spaced teeth. A single eye the size of a man’s fist leered from the center of the beast’s bald head, glaring hate at the fear-frozen sailors near the foot of the stair.
“Gentlemen,” announced Korm as he stooped to retrieve his saber, “you remember Aebos?”
Like the rest of them, Aebos had lost a lot of muscle over the last several weeks, but his emergence evened the odds. The half-orc and the quartermaster looked to the black-bearded sailor and back up the stairs, toward the indistinct shouting of the abovedeck crew. For a moment they appeared ready to flee toward sunlight, but the noise from above grew louder, and soon a crowd of sailors thundered down the stairs, pressing the worried warriors toward Korm and Aebos.
Korm grabbed a handful of black beard in his right hand, pulling his enemy’s face into a rising knee with a loud crunch. As the sailor collapsed to the floor, Korm saw a flash of the hook-nosed quartermaster’s surprised face rush past him, pushed forward by the newcomers.
“What have you gotten us into, Korm?” shouted Aebos in a low voice as he grappled with the quartermaster. A vicious
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