Snailship Pirates
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The great snail ship Hammertread had turned pirate, to the dismay of the crew.
MRROAH. The snail called out it’s intention, the swift, sleek profile showing that the victim could not get away. Even were it not encumbered by the great cargo nets and a drag filled with barrels and bales.
GNAAH called out the target, the name Grundlefore painted in black and gold on the shell.
“Ahoy there,” called the captain of the Grundlefore. “What are your intentions?”
A spokesman appeared on the Hammertread, climbing up on a spar, on hand on a stay. “I fear we shall be boarding you. Our ship has turned pirate, will we, nill we.”
“Can we dissuade it? Perhaps with black powder and rock salt?”
The spokesman shook his head, though that might have been the movement of the snail as it heeled over to engage. To clarify he spoke out. “That will simply…”
An explosion of smoke, a cannonball flew out and bounced off the shell, another clipped the superstructure, sending the canvas walls flapping. Fortunately none were within, all preparing for the piracy.
MGRAAH declared Hammertread, annoyed, eye stalks extending to see around the cloud that had formed between it and it’s target.
OOGRAH called Grundlefore, distressed by all this, and strangely turning into the smoke.
“You fools,” cried the spokesman.
“Turn away!” shouted the captain.
The two snails came together with a crash of shells, heads and necks winding around each other. Spars and cabins were scraped off, crew members falling with baleful screams to the stony ground below.
“We surrender!” came the cries from Grundlefore.
“We have struck our colours,” called back the crew of the Hammertread. And indeed their garish flag had been pulled down.
The snails ignoring their riders, began a slow dance. Whether of courtship, violence or some other gastropodal meaning we shall find out when they complete it.
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