We’ve got to the most recent Realmgard story and I believe this is the first time I’ve reposted it since its original run.
Captain Goblinbeard:
A Tale of Realmgard
Copyright 2024 -2025
J.B. Norman
Chapter 1
Uiliema Hawkins would like to tell you about Captain Goblinbeard. But first, Uiliema Hawkins would like to tell you that she goes by Billie – for reasons that should be largely self-evident.
Billie has never been ashamed of the Elven half of her heritage, she just sometimes wishes that her parents hadn’t decided to honour it quite as obviously and inescapably as they did.
Though, if anything, her name actually does help her feel closer to her Elven family members. She feels a deep bond that transcends the ages and a great sympathy for the aunts, cousins, grandmothers, at least one especially unfortunate uncle, and all her other ancestors who also bore the name Uiliema, and she can’t help but wonder about their thoughts on the name…
Thanks to the Brotherhood of the Coasts’ Mentorship Program, Uiliema Hawkins, who goes by Billie, has been assigned to Captain Goblinbeard’s crew. The Captain has taken Billie under his wing to show her the ropes of the piratical trade.
Due to the nature of that trade, many of those ropes are in fact quite literal. Billie has learned more in the past few weeks about knot tying than she ever had in her entire life up to this point. She’s starting to see sheepshanks in her mind whenever she closes her eyes.
As the newest member of his crew, Billie has learned that the most important thing to know about Captain Goblinbeard is that his name – his full legal name – really is Goblinbeard, comma, Captain. He had it changed with both the Census Bureau of Porthaven and the Registrar of the Brotherhood of the Coasts when he became a Captain of his own ship and crew.
A ship that proudly flies a flag emblazoned with the Captain’s own fiercely glowering visage.Conspicuous in its absence, both on the flag and in reality, is a beard.
Despite his own lack of facial follicles, the Captain insists that all the best pirates are named Something-beard, and since it’s just a name, it doesn’t really matter what facial hair he may or may not actually have. Noting, for example, that the famous pirate Ludovico Saltybeard sported a pair of mutton chops, which ‘could hardly be considered a proper beard, now could it, Miss Hawkins?’
Not being one for the finer points of facial hair, Billie has stopped arguing the point. Or just talking about the Captain’s beard and lack thereof at all, really. Dwelling on it too much is proving a distraction, and Captain Goblinbeard is actually quite a good mentor.
It’s just easier and better in the long run to let this particular sleeping dogfish lie.
Despite being the most junior member of Captain Goblinbeard’s crew, Billie has already been entrusted with several duties crucial to the operations aboard the Falchion. She is, for example, in charge of the ship’s ledger, largely because she is the one member of the crew whose skills with numbers are not limited by her number of fingers.
This is a particularly acute issue for the ship’s cook, Nine-Fingers Tompkins.
Billie works with Black Jack Takeda, the ship’s quartermaster, to ensure they’re properly provisioned and supplied before every voyage. And, of course, she helps Captain Goblinbeard reach things down from tall shelves.
Although short in stature, Captain Goblinbeard is lofty of reputation and presence. He carries himself as if he were fifty feet tall, commanding respect and attention by maintaining an aura of unadulterated and unfiltered pirate-ness bordering on the obsessive: hat with a feather plume that does actually help him look taller, overcoat with bright brass buttons, boots with gleaming buckles, sword on his belt, fully loaded-out bandoliers slung across his chest.
As the Falchion – in Captain Goblinbeard’s own rather confusing words, ‘the fleetest o’ ships in the whole Brotherhood fleet’ – sails back to Porthaven Harbour after what has been, all in all, a successful but tiring day, Billie glances down at Captain Goblinbeard.
“Um, Captain. Since when do you smoke a pipe?” she asks, finally realising what’s different about him. It’s been bothering her all day.
“Yarr, Miss Hawkins,” the Captain answers. “I don’t be smokin’ a pipe. I’ve just been discernin’ that carryin’ this very pipe might well add a touch of distinguishment to me appearance, as what will make me appear rather more dignified and serious, as is only proper fer a pirate Captain o’ me reputation. A deliberate affectation, as it were. Affected, o’ course, for the aforesaid reasons.”
“I see,” Billie mutters, out of necessity having trained herself to be fully fluent in Goblinbeardish. Translating to standard Gardian, Captain Goblinbeard simply thinks carrying around a pipe helps with his pirate look.
The Captain takes the pipe from his mouth and looks up at Billie. “Now, Miss Hawkins,” he says. “It’s been quite the triumphant day for us, wouldn’t ye say?”
He looks over his shoulder to where his long-time rival Jehan-Picard Souricier is trussed up to the mainmast, then over to where the Countess Dowager Dirigible is admiring her painting as her much put-upon daughter holds it up for the Countess Dowager’s approval.
When Captain Goblinbeard told the crew they’d be sailing to the island where Porthaven lighthouse is located, to help the Countess Dowager paint a landscape of the Harbour, Billie never would have imagined that the infamous renegade Jehan-Picard Souricier would be waiting to kidnap the Countess Dowager and countess to hold them for ransom. Captain Goblinbeard, of course, was having none of that, and promptly kicked Souricier the length and breadth of the lighthouse island.
At least this altogether strange and vexing ended with Countess Dowager getting her painting finished.
“Captain,” one of the crew calls, pointing an accusing finger at Souricier. “He’s been saying such horrible things about my mother. And you’ve met my mother, so you know he’s lying! Can I stuff a sock in his mouth?”
Captain Goblinbeard nods gravely. “Aye, Mr. Sprengt. That ye may. For what sort o’ wretch would be so bold as to slander another man’s very mother with such outrageous words o’ defamation?”
He glances pointedly at Souricier.
“Well, that sort o’ wretch, I suppose. Ready yer sock, Mr. Sprengt.”
“And maybe kick him a couple times?”
“Aye, Mr. Sprengt. But not more ’an thrice. Wretch though he may be, we’ll not stoop to his level and kick a defeated man past the point o’ what a man may consider reasonable.”
As Souricier’s desperate pleading and profanities are muffled by a sock, Captain Goblinbeard turns back to Billie. “As I were sayin’, Miss Hawkins. I have a thought as what it’s only right that we celebrate today’s victory with a right proper sea shanty.”
Billie has a bad feeling about this.
“Perhaps ye’d like to lead us?” Captain Goblinbeard offers.
Billie blushes. “I don’t like singing in public, Captain,” she murmurs. “And I’ve never led a sea shanty before.”
Captain Goblinbeard shrugs. “Well, Miss Hawkins, there be no time like the present.”
Billie swallows nervously.
“Well,” he says haltingly. “Well…
“Well, Gran Hidalgo gained the day
It’s up, Gran Hidalgo.
Styracosaur of the West, they say
Along the plains of Pelayo.”
“Hey!” one of the pirates exclaims. “I know this one!”
“Everybody knows this one!” another pirate notes. “It’s only the most famous sea shanty there is! And – uh oh, Captain’s looking at us. Quick, quick, sing along! If you can’t remember the words, just sort of mumble along and say Pelayo at the end of every verse.”
Billie begins feeling more confident as the rest of the crew joins in on the sea shanty. Even Souricier is mumbling the tune through the old sock crammed in his mouth, at least until one of the crew gives him a glower and one last kick.
“So, roll along and away we go,
It’s up, Gran Hidalgo.
Roll along and away we go
Along the plains of Pelayo.”
Billie leads Captain Goblinbeard’s crew in relating the exploits of Gran Hidalgo, one of the great war heroes of Pelayan history. Finishing the song, Billie looks around to see the other pirates cheering and applauding. Even the Countess Dowager is happily applauding her. Part of her is happy the rest of the crew appreciated her song, but mostly, though, she’s mortified and horrified, and she certainly won’t be mollified.
She wants to be somewhere, anywhere very, very far away and never leave that place.
“Well done indeed, Miss Hawkins,” Captain Goblinbeard says, favouring her with a nod of approval. “’Twas a fine rendition.”
“If you need me, Captain,” she murmurs with a beet-red face, blushing all the way to the tips of her pointed ears. “I’ll be in the bunks. Hiding from everyone. Forever.”
“She has the most beautiful singing voice I have ever heard,” one of the crew says, sniffling and dabbing his eyes with the corner of his sleeve. “Like an angel. Drizzled in honey. Who got vocal lessons from a siren. Who swallowed a nightingale. Who–”
“We get it! You think she has a pretty voice!”
“It’s a sea shanty,” another one of the crew notes. “Why are we singing about plains? And isn’t Pelayo mostly mountains? And is the song praising Gran Hidalgo, or making fun of him? It makes no sense! And is he a ship or a person? Who wrote this song?”
“—was itself tutored in the fine art of song by Amazon cantor-priestesses.”
“We get it!”
“You want to borrow my other sock?” Mr. Sprengt asks.
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