Sky pirates
Sky pirate fantasy? Just an excerpt I wrote today. Not quite sure if this will be for NaNo or not.
It wasn’t quite the same as home, Lyon thought, and smashed another skeleton’s brittle fingers with the sole of his boot as it tried to clamber onto the airship. His sword slammed against its head a split second afterwards, and the last of the monsters clattered its brittle jaws in pain as it plummeted down to the brown earth below. He looked at the railing. The finger bones were still there.
“Blasted creatures,” he muttered, and brushed the bones off the side with his hand. “Always falling apart, aren’t they. Piers! Kavolsky! Are you two still alive? Or have you joined the ranks of our enemies?”
“They’re skeletons, not zombies,” Piers called from the front of the ship, where he was sweeping the white dust and litter into a pile. “Couldn’t turn into one right now if I tried.”
“D-med if I care,” Lyon said. “They’re all the same rotten monsters. Where’s Kavolsky?”
“Here,” the poor midshipman said weakly, crawling out of an overturned crate.
“Ah. Hid away again, did you?”
“Sorry, Cap’n.”
Kavolsky lowered his head, ashamed. Lyon supposed he couldn’t blame the man-the man had been bred for the land and politics, not the sky, and certainly not fighting monsters. Well. It would have to make do. One couldn’t find a navigator worth his gold anywhere, nowadays. It had been pure luck when Lyon’s last navigator had had a nasty accident in the Rabities and Kavolsky had needed a job. No, two good swordsman would have to make do.
It wasn’t quite the same as home, Lyon thought, and smashed another skeleton’s brittle fingers with the sole of his boot as it tried to clamber onto the airship. His sword slammed against its head a split second afterwards, and the last of the monsters clattered its brittle jaws in pain as it plummeted down to the brown earth below. He looked at the railing. The finger bones were still there.
“Blasted creatures,” he muttered, and brushed the bones off the side with his hand. “Always falling apart, aren’t they. Piers! Kavolsky! Are you two still alive? Or have you joined the ranks of our enemies?”
“They’re skeletons, not zombies,” Piers called from the front of the ship, where he was sweeping the white dust and litter into a pile. “Couldn’t turn into one right now if I tried.”
“D-med if I care,” Lyon said. “They’re all the same rotten monsters. Where’s Kavolsky?”
“Here,” the poor midshipman said weakly, crawling out of an overturned crate.
“Ah. Hid away again, did you?”
“Sorry, Cap’n.”
Kavolsky lowered his head, ashamed. Lyon supposed he couldn’t blame the man-the man had been bred for the land and politics, not the sky, and certainly not fighting monsters. Well. It would have to make do. One couldn’t find a navigator worth his gold anywhere, nowadays. It had been pure luck when Lyon’s last navigator had had a nasty accident in the Rabities and Kavolsky had needed a job. No, two good swordsman would have to make do.