A job.

[bringmethatnpc]

On the banks of the Singapore River, a small bamboo-and-stone structure stands out as being one of the newest, and best cared for buildings in the area; a temple for a religion the Western world only hears of in stories from disreputable sailors. Inside, the acolytes sleep soundly on minimalist pallets, biding the time before midnight rituals.

The stillness within is a strange departure from the all-night activity in the town without, and stands apart as a silent haven. The silence is broken only by the movement of unwelcome boots sneaking across bamboo floors designed for bare feet only.

Comments

[badinlatin]

"Everyone's a critic. C'mon, this way."

Mal waits for Will to be dressed, and the pair of hooded men now are walking quickly and as silently as they can in leather boots toward the rear chambers of the temple.

"We need to find the head priest."

[turned_captain]

Will pulls his hood up and follows Mal, after a while quickening so he's walking with him instead.

Will's had enough of following people by now.

"Where would he be?"

[badinlatin]

As soon as Mal hears Will's question, the series of doorways they'd been passing -- brown, brown, some more brown -- change into gold leaf and more gold leaf.

"He with the most decorations, wins?" Mal finally stops in front of the only door with a placard over the door-frame. He presses an ear to the door, but no sound is heard through the heavy wood, and Mal reaches for the lever to open the door.

[turned_captain]

Will stands back as Mal does so, one hand reaching into his robes just in case, eyes open and alert for any surprises.

[badinlatin]

For once in Mal's entire thieving history, the door does not creak open.

It does however reveal a large pile of fabric swaths on one side of the opulent room, and it takes Mal a moment to figure out that it's a man sleeping.

Exhaling, Mal goes immediately for the desk on the opposite end of the chambers, starting his search for, if not the map, then at least anything of use.

[turned_captain]

Will hangs back for a second, leaving Mal to the deck, and homes in on a low chest at the other side of the room.

He has to move a small statue off the chest and place it on the floor, before he lifts the lid off and starts lifting up the sheets he finds within.

[badinlatin]

Most of the papers on the priest's desk are boring -- affairs of the temple, orders and texts --

To my most noble and worthy uncle: I look forward to my visit... Mal finds at the top of a folded and refolded letter, and he scans quickly to the bottom.

Your humble nephew, Sao Feng.

Mal's eyes open wide, and he mouths to Will while pointing at the still sleeping pile of clothes -- Sao Feng is coming!

[turned_captain]

Will, meanwhile, has found a very promising and heavy roll of what appear to be bamboo mats. His eyes go wide and he looks over to Mal just in time to see Mal point at the sleeping man and mouth something.

Will's not very good at lip reading.

What? he mouths back.

[badinlatin]

Another glance at the sleeping man, who's started snoring, and Mal rolls his eyes in frustration -- how to explain?

Exaggerated mouth movement and miming!

"SOW" is first, then Mal holds up his two index fingers to each corner of his mouth.

"FANG"

Close enough, right?

[turned_captain]

Will lifts up the roll - he can see ink on the exposed edge which hints at navigational chart - and then at Mal, who's behaving very oddly.

He scans the desk for an empty rum bottle.

"What?" he hisses.

[badinlatin]

The paper under Mal's hands on the desk crinkle when his fingers curl, and Mal steps closer to Will.

He doesn't see the statue Will moved by the trunk until he's already tripped over it.

The pile of cloths has stopped snoring, but he's rolling over now, and the mutter of Chinese at the noise in the room is raised to a shout.

"[Intruders!]"

Weakly: "It's Sao Feng's uncle."

[turned_captain]

Will's eyes snap wide and he stares at the waking bundle.

He moves quickly, tossing the bamboo rolls to Mal and scooping up the statue in the next move. That comes down hard on the head of the man he assumes to be Sao Feng's uncle.

"We'll have to fight our way out."

That's Will's preferred method anyway.

[badinlatin]

Mal straightens, catching the roll in his left hand and unholstering his pistol in his right.

"Figured as much. Was getting bored with all the sneaking. After you?" Mal opens the door for Will to walk out first.

[turned_captain]

Leaving the unconscious man... well, unconscious, Will pulls his pistol out and checks its readiness before stepping to the edge of the room and looking around and heading out into the hallway.

The first men to heed their boss's cry are apparently unarmed acolytes, and Will shoulders his way past them, knocking them in the head and neck where possible to knock them out completely.

[badinlatin]

Mal happy enough not to have to shoot unarmed men and they're running fast enough through the hallways of the temple that it's harder than usual for Mal to keep track of whether or not they are retracing their steps.

The pair stops, though when two novices are a little more than unarmed. 'Little more', here, meaning showing off an intricate series of martial arts moves the likes of which Mal has never seen.

He shoots the first one in the kneecap and he goes down with a curse and a scream. Mal adjusts his sights on the second.

"We done?" Mal asks in English.

There's a firm nodding from the second novice as he lets Mal and Will pass him by while attending to his friend.

[turned_captain]

Will meanwhile has his sword out in the other hand. His pistol only has one shot, and he's not going to waste it while Mal has that strange multi-shooter from the far future.

He rounds a corner and runs into a much larger group of men, this time clearly not monks at all, but recognisable pirates, with swords drawn.

They don't help much, because Will launches into them quickly and cuts through two in one swing.

[badinlatin]

Mal really does hate swords. Will convinced him to claim one for himself on the ship -- even gave him a couple of lessons that were vaguely more helpful than Inara's way back when -- but he'd still prefer his gun.

When a pirate charges at him swinging like Mal used to with a heavy blade, Mal leans to the left to get on the man's instep and knock the blade out of his hand and head-butting him to the ground.

[turned_captain]

Will's eyeline happened to be on Mal at the time, and he nods at the technique, even as he spins and cuts deep into one man's chest before stabbing another straight through.

He's fighting now, which means he doens't have to think about what he's doing or how to move: it's natural.

Which means he's free to think.

These are pirates he's fighting now. He can tell from the way they're all bravado and fear when they realise how good he is, how ready they are to let their comrades die, and how dirty they fight.

Behind them, unconscious, is the uncle of Sao Feng, the Pirate Captain Barbossa wanted the help of so badly.

Barbossa didn't want him to know this.

Will slices his way through the mean, all the while thinking, and a plan begins to form.

To Mal, with his free hand out; "give me your sword."

[badinlatin]

He's already stripped one man of his; he throws the one previously left idle at his side to Will pommel-first.

He hears footsteps growing closer behind him, and he crouches before he lets his right fist fly backwards in a suckerpunch.

Grinning, That never gets old.

[turned_captain]

Will catches the sword expertly and brings it around across a man's throat before leading the way on, protecting Mal only nominally: he trusts the captain to hold his own and the charts, as long as the superior swordsman has his way.

But at the back of his mind, Will wonders if Mal's realised what Will's realised: these pirates must have a leader.

[hai-dao.livejournal.com]

Arms crossed, unsmiling, he steps forward to block the way.

Stealth is always an asset, but the strength in numbers is as great if not greater than strength in stealth.

He shakes his head and there's a complete halt to movment.

A heavy moment's silence: everybody simply... stops and watches and listens. Finally, the Pirate Lord of the South China Sea speaks.

"Gentlemen, welcome to Singapore."

He does not sound happy.

[turned_captain]

Will raises his chin as he inspects the newcomer; his bearing, the way the pirates heed his bidding; and he lowers his swords slowly.

"Sao Feng?"

[badinlatin]

"Sao Feng," Mal repeats, digging out his flintlock and drawing on the big boss now on the scene.

Mal looks to Will now, momentarily lost.

Can't blame him though -- not with a bitty gun and surrounded by pirates.

[hai-dao.livejournal.com]

"I have been called many things; Sao Feng is in fact one of them."

Some pirates need swords and some need guns. Some need knives, some work exclusively with explosives.

The most powerful of all need nothing. He takes his time, looking these xī kè, these strangers, up and down slowly. They pose little threat against his superior manpower.

"As always, it depends who's asking."

[turned_captain]

"Someone with information you might have use of."

Will barely gives a look to Mal, his swords still lowered, but ready to rise. He's cut through most of Sao Feng's men. He could probably make it out of here alive if he needed to.

But he doesn't want to, not yet.

"Regarding Captains Barbossa and Sparrow."