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Category: Writing and Poetry

Quest for the Relics: Francisco 1

Francisco is actually one of my longest-standing characters. Way back in the day, he originated as Alberto Portobello, and then became Francis Patch-Eye. Finally, he became Francisco de Soto!

Francisco 

Cisco shielded the gravely wounded Lunette with his arm as he retracted his whip. Their situation was grim - even with his magic bullets, Cisco had no way to reload his guns. His sword was no longer useful to him, and in any case, they were stuck in a rickety tree and out of options. He closed his eyes, feeling the full weight of their circumstances press in around them.

“Cisco?” Lunette whispered. “I’m cold, so cold.”

“Hush, lass,” Cisco replied. “We’ll be out of here soon. Just let me think.”

But to him, it seemed, the only way out was certain death. The creatures had punched through Lunette’s sturdy armor and she had half a dozen wounds, all of which were beyond Cisco’s skills to treat. He was a pirate and a deputy of the crown, not a damned physician. He could feel Lunette’s blood drip from her wounds, further riling up their enemies into a bloodthirsty frenzy - they were like bipedal sharks, no matter how fast or slow they moved. Taking several deep breaths, Cisco could feel his mind rewinding away from that moment in time. His companion faded out, as did the growls and snarls of the monsters attempting to tear down the tree so that they could reach the pair of heroes and devour them.

There was a remote island, called Moreau, off the coast of the Anghviri mainland. In their arrogance, the Royal Navy had left a skeleton crew for a garrison. It didn’t take long for Cisco’s crew to overrun them. The other pirate crews had come along, too. On this raid, the nine crews were a united front instead of a bunch of rival gangs continually bickering over turf or vendettas. 

Cisco pulled his cutlass free from the belly of the last marine in his way. A heavy set of leaden doors led the way into the final chamber of the laboratory that they had come to this windswept little speck of shit to plunder. He was a deputy of the king, but only when he felt like it. He still enjoyed vexing the Royal Navy from time to time, just for the fun of it. The fact that he hadn’t been stripped of his position yet had to have been a mark of clemency. The massive doors slid open, and some panicked scientists ran out, straight into Cisco’s waiting blade.

“Hold there, lads. Let us in here and no one gets hurt.” 

The scientists obeyed without further ado. It wasn’t long until Cisco found his prize: a pair of revolvers made from cobalt steel. The pirates knew enough about the facility based on captured sailors from the Navy that this lab decoded the secrets of technology from the Cobalt Isles. One last scientist was in the room, standing over the guns.

“C’mon mate, don’t be shy. Bring those beauties over here.” Cisco said, nudging the case with the weapons inside. “Now then, how does this all work?”

“I-I’m not sure,” the frightened scientist said. “Best we can tell, the guns lock onto the handprint signature of the first person to touch their grips.”

“Give them to me, slowly,” Cisco said. The scientist hastened to comply without another word. 

“There’s a good lad,” Cisco smiled, leaving the scientist alone after that. Cisco turned around and crossed swords with his eldest brother, Alberto De Soto. Alberto had snuck inside while Cisco had been extracting the revolvers.

“Mighty fine prize you have there, Cisco,” Alberto said. “You might give them to me, seeing as how I am your king.”

Cisco remembered what the scientist had said about the guns. He had been the first one to touch them so they were now locked onto his handprints. Trusting to luck that his brother didn’t know this, he handed them over.

“Nice one,” Alberto said.  Then he raised one revolver and attempted to shoot Cisco with it. When it gave a hollow click, Alberto tried again, cursing under his breath. Cisco let him have his moment of frustration, and then cold-cocked him with the handle guard of his sword. 

“Hail to the king, baby,” Cisco said with a grin. 


The sound of a hunting horn broke Cisco out of his reverie. Lunette had gone limp during his trance, but she had regained enough strength to utter one word: “Look!” 

Indeed, a Barbarian war band had arrived, and was tearing into the Shamblers without mercy. With their numbers shattered, the Shamblers scuttled for the safety of their hidey-hole.

“You’re damned lucky, Francisco De Soto,” one amongst the Barbarians said. 

“Talon, you cold-hearted son of a bitch! What took you so long?”

“We’ve been tracking those Shamblers for days. This was happenstance, my friend. And who is this?”

“Lunette Moonglow, one of the Ironguard. As you can see, she’s on death’s door. Can your druidic medicine save her?”

“I dare say it can,” Talon replied. “Come along.”   

   


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