XII. Leafed Behind Part III.

One of the navyman decided to make the first move by jabbing a spear through Cain's chest. The effort was in vain, though, since all the damage delt was a hole poked through the skeleton's clothes. The navyman tried to pull it back, but the tip had become lodged between a couple of Cain's ribs. In a desperate attempt, he gave it a great, big YANK... which only succeeded in driving the skeleton (and the skeleton's sword) through his left lung. A stream of blood trickled out from the corners of the navyman's mouth before he collapsed onto the dirt.

After that, the brawl broke out.

Majel dodged out of the way of a castaway's rapier, shifting to the right and knocking him down on the ground. She pinned him under her weight, clawing the back of his head and yowling until his grip on the sword eased. She picked it up and defended herself against one incoming blow but not another. The tip of a different castaway's cutlass nicked through her shoulder, drawing blood. She covered it up with a hand, knees buckling as the stinging swelled throughout her entire body.

The cannibal's attention shifted towards the cowering, unarmed D'anna. He rushed towards her like a wolf who had managed to break into a henhouse. He made sure to be careful where he would slash, though; he didn't want to ruin any of her choice cuts with sloppy swordsmanship.

"D'anna!" the skeleton yelled. As the elf looked over to her captain, Cain twisted the spear and pulled it out of his chest, tossing it to her with a grunt. She caught it mid-air with both hands, much to their mutual surprise. D'anna turned back to her assailant and shielded herself from the blow...

...completely by accident, of course.

Instead of her head, the sword had split through the spear's bamboo shaft. Splinters rained down—along with the spear's tip, leaving D'anna with only a pointy stick to defend herself with. She didn't have time to panic about that, though, as the cannibal winded up for another strike. She closed her eyes and raised her stick again, blocking the blow and shaving off of the stick's length once more.

"Stop that!" the cannibal yelled.

"Sorry!" D'anna cried.

The stick became shorter and shorter with each successful block. After a series of THWACKs, the bamboo stick had devolved into a ten-inch rod. The navyman smiled and, licking his lips, drove his cutlass towards her for the killing blow.

With nothing to shield herself with, D'anna hurled herself to the ground with an "Oomph!" There, she took the opportunity to stab the rod's sharpened end into the cannibal's dirty boot. He wailed in agony as the stick drove through foot, causing him to drop his sword and start hopping on his good leg.

D'anna latched onto his leg and jerked it toward her, causing him to fall on the cauldron. That knocked the pot from its stand, causing the stew (and the two skeletons) to spill out like a tidal wave. The campfire being so close to the cannibal's head made his long, greasy hair burst into flames. Like a chicken who had lost his head, the pain made him shoot up, running around for an agonizing minute before collapsing.

"Holy shit, D'anna!" Cain yelled, mid-sword fight with a particularly large cannibal.

D'anna started to cry. "Oh my gods, I'm so sorry! I-I didn't—"

Cain shook his head as his attention turned back to his duel. "Fer the gods' sakes, they were tryin' to eat ya, elf!"

"But I... I didn't, haven't, wouldn't... I never..."

"...kill?" Cain filled in. "D'a—AW, GAWDS," he yelled as the blunt side of the navyman's sword smashed against his skull. The skeleton somewhat recovered after a few moments, taking a few steps back before rubbing his exposed brain.

He picked up where he had left off, but this time with the tone of an exasperated father. "D'anna, most of bein' a pirate involves puttin' people down..."

"...LIKE THIS! YAARGH!" the skeleton yelled as he grabbed a dagger from his belt and pinned it into the large cannibal's chest. The cannibal looked down at it and bellowed from the excruciating pain. Now distracted, Cain made quick work of him with the cutlass. D'anna watched as the pieces fell in quick succession—thump... thump... thump, tuhmp, thump...

"I oughta start keepin' a tally..." Cain chuckled to himself as he wiped off his cutlass on the navyman's jacket. Once he sheathed it, he looked around the ruined campsite and what remained of the HMS Delight's crew. "Well, we best not let these sea bobbies go ta waste, now. D'anna, Majel, start gatherin' 'em up, they oughta tide the crew over for a bit..."

"You're not gonna help?" Majel asked, crossing her arms.

"Someone's gotta comb tha place fer loot. Ye really think that I would let nature reclaim whatever riches these dullards had on 'em? And besides, ye two are the muscle, anyway..."

"No offense, D'anna," Majel said to the elf before turning her head back to Cain, "but when she considered 'the muscle'?"

"Meow, meow, meow, meow!" Cain mocked, puppeteering a flapping mouth with his hand. "Ye could've finished tha job by now if ye weren't arguin' with yer cap—D'anna, what the hell are you doing?!"

"Mhm?" D'anna asked as she licked her finger.

"What even is that?" Cain yelled, using his cutlass to point at the bowl she held.

"I... don't know. But you guys have to try it—whatever it is, exactly!" she beamed before dipping her finger into the bowl of brown sludge again.

"D'anna! We're in a cannibal encampment!!" Majel reiterated. "Did the thought of this being… I dunno…  human pudding ever cross your mind at all?!"

D'anna thought about it for a moment before shaking her head.

Majel's eyes squinted. "Whatever it is, is it good?"

D'anna nodded.

"Let me see the bowl..."

D'anna handed it to her after getting a handful of the sludge. Majel glared into a bowl before sniffing its contents, checking for any human-y smells. She ran her fingers along its sides, and once she had a pile of the sludge on her finger, she popped it into her mouth. Her eyes widened with surprise. "Wait a minute, I was gonna be boiled in this? And I passed on the opportunity?!"

"Get to work, you no-good eleph—WAIT A MINUTE! Where did ye find that, D'anna?!"

With a sludge-stained finger, the elf pointed to a nearby table—the one used to prepare Majel's stew. Cain dashed towards it in a frantic rush and started to fling away ingredients like ginger roots and pathetic-looking carrots. Then, out of the corner of his eye socket, he noticed a small mortar of green leaves. He immediately stopped and started to fumble through his belt pouch. After unfolding the sketch and holding it up next to them, he began to cackle.

They were a match.

Cain barged through the doors of Leonard Picardo's office. Nobody thought of it as rude, since knocking is an uncommon habit to the citizens of Saint Khan's.

"Mr. Cain!" Leonard beamed, shooting up from his desk. He began to rub his hands together like a fly discovering a new outhouse. "Do you... have it? The plant?"

The skeleton grinned from external acoustic meatus to external acoustic meatus. "Fifteen leaves in this here dead man's chest," he said as he patted a small, wooden trunk.

"Oh! Fantastic," Leonard smiled, motioning for Cain to set it on the desk. "Do tell me that you've been watering them all this time...?"

"What fool do ye take me fer? Of course I did, ye condescendin' double-dome!" the skeleton gruffed, opening the chest to show Leonard. Inside was a pile of dark soil covered by a thin layer of the Coaca leaves.

"I see! Ahh, look at that! Some have already started to sprout, my goodness!" Leonard cooed. "Oh, Captain, words can't express how thankful I am for this..."

"How about gold?" Cain asked.

"Well... you have held up your share of the bargain, haven't you?" the doctor asked, clapping his hands together.

"Yes, and it costed me a couple good zomb—men, costed me a couple good men..."

"Then, in turn, I shall uphold my part. With a little extra, too—for your troubles..." Leonard said as he walked up to an iron safe spanning from the floor to the ceiling. After unlocking it with a key, the door opened by itself with a CLANK-CLANK-CLANK-CLANK. The office was soon basked in a sudden, aureate glow—looking as if Picardo had managed to deposit the sun itself.

"Is that... all from yer practice...?" Cain squeaked as the doctor stuffed a handful of gleaming coins into a pouch. He was so taken by the vault's beauty that the thought of just killing the doctor and taking it all didn't even cross his mind.

"Oh, yes! Yes, it is," said Leonard. Once he was finished, he nudged the door shut with his boot. The light vanished as quick as it had graced Cain; the world would be irreversibly drab to him now.

"It was a pleasure doing business," the doctor said as he gave him the pouch. "Feel free to stop by whenever you like. I'd love to have you over for study. Well, to study, specifically..."

However, Leonard's words fell on deaf external acoustic meatuses. Cain was just staring at the measly little pouch in his hand.

"I be startin' to think I got into the... uh, wrong profession...." he muttered.