The Way of the Clan 8

by Dem Mikhaylov

  I looked so hard at the ships that I almost missed what was happening right under my nose - many items were being picked up from the water by the nets, among which there were standing out two very long mustaches ending with spiked maces the size of a small truck, each. The spikes on the maces were long, scary, and purple lightning flashed between them. And a whole bunch of other things. A mix of weapons, armor, clothing, shoes, bags and belts, bottles large and small. Extraction of goods left from the orc fleet. And from the drummer Drughoan... I saw a lot of other musical instruments, too. Tambourines, drums, horns, pipes and finally weird string items reminiscent of the trap with a strained between the jaws of the strings. If it is a helmet, it turns out strings it is necessary to pull the tongue? These shamans are magicians are really artisans…

  The trophies were being scooped out with nets, but there was still no end to the amount of loot. That is what I understood... But they were getting much of it. Most likely, the Sleepless clan also suffered financial losses. It was advantageous to destroy such enemies with the help of conventional weapons and magic, acting in the same way as our ancestors hunted for mammoths in the distant past. It was a cheap way to do it, and it gave tremendous benefits - several tons of meat, bone, kilograms of tendons, huge tusks, and lots of leather. And all for the cost of a couple dozens of broken weapons

  I must say - the spectacle was impressive.

  How was my daughter, by the way?

  Leaning over the railing, I stared down with a stern paternal gaze and gasped in amazement. Over the past few minutes, the surface decks of the flagship had changed dramatically. The last remnants of snow and ice had disappeared. The stone surfaces were swept clean. And armored shields were being set up everywhere. As well as car-sized guns. I was able to identify the catapults, ballista, and others classical tools of the Middle Ages, but I could not identify the other devices. There was a continuous interweaving of chains and ropes chaotically entangled around metal and wooden bodies stuffed with gears. Many devices were completely hidden by protective armor, like a real gun turret. Many other artifacts were hidden under magic veils- there was clearly a secret mode, protection from enemy winged scouts.

  It took me a long time to find the whereabouts of my daughter. The ass of the mammoth helped, which was barely squeezed between two catapults. On the head of Kolyvan sat two people - the bald elf and Roska. Moving slightly to the side, I managed to improve my viewing angle and drove my jealous father's gaze into the back of Orbit – what was this bastard teaching my daughter? I could not hear anything, but they were clearly communicating with animation. At the same time, open books lay on their knees, the pages fluttering in the wind, and fishing rods in their hands. Every now and then they would glance at the sea below, where the water was brightly dancing.

  I would slap a jellyfish onto your bald head, evil elf!

  Why did I have such heavy confidence he had opened, on board the flagship, something like a branch of the University of Pacification, the Institute of Mockery and Technical College of Gloating? And why did it seem to me that Roska was the very first student of these questionable educational institutions?

  What could I do? Go and give the elf a smack? After all, my daughter was listening so earnestly. She was distracted only for a couple of seconds at a time — when the hook came across a fish. She was learning how to be bad… we must urgently stop the disgrace, and send Roska to the right course...

  Wait — why did it suddenly seem to me that I had already became very much like my father?...

  No. I am nothing like that. In no case. I will put pressure on Roska gently, imperceptibly ... huh ... I caught myself pursing my lips in the same displeased grin as my father did when he saw my school diary....

  I will distract myself....

  Lowering my eyes below, I blinked in surprise - the woolen mammoth had an unbelievably large bucket he was holding with his trunk. It was into this bucket that Roska and Orbit threw the fish they caught. And then, every once in a while one of the players approached the bucket, taking this or that fish, immediately taking it somewhere. And sometimes, he would teleport from the deck of the flagship to a different deck... What was going on here?

  "Someone is stealing my daughter's fish?" I asked, catching the half-orc by the shoulder.

  “Oh! It is a nightmare!” He answered. “What is her level in fishing?”

  “I have no idea. Why?”

  “She sometimes gets some crazy fish out of the water,” the player admitted. “And we collect it, sort it and distribute it to the right places. Strict accounting. For all the fish we took, we will pay her fairly. All the same, the fish disappear - they are caught only for pleasure. Catch them, take them off the hook - and let them go!”

  "Okay," I nodded. "Give me the money, not Roska. And Orbit - if he wants to take his share.”

  “And where did she get such a hook, if it is not a secret?”

  "What hook?"

  "Thought you knew. Couple of our maniac fishers looked at the unusual hook and wept. They asked her, and she answered them - Dad gave it to me! They were eager to talk to you, but they were not allowed.”

  “Roska and I have a whole bunch of different fishing nonsense,” I shrugged my shoulders. “Good they didn’t ask. I have no idea.”

  "Mmm ... strange. Apparently, that hook used to belong to some famous fisherman from Lake Naykal. An angler from the "local" population who, during his lifetime, already became a fishing legend. A year ago, he went out on a boat to fish and disappeared... this was told to me by the maniacs. They cannot go on the bridge, and Roska cannot be questioned - she does not want to chat with them, its un-int-teress-ting.”

  "That's what she said? Un-int-teress-ting?”

  “Yeah. You have a lovely daughter ...”

  "It is time to kick the elf," I snapped, and the half-orc flinched.

  “No riots on the ship!”

  “Yeah, yeah… And about the hook… I just was lucky enough to find out one hidden stash on Lake Naykal. I dumped everything in my private room - not even considering it. And Roska pulled out a bunch of it, of boredom, and took it with her. It was the first time I hear about the legendary missing fisherman.”

  “Just stumbled upon it? You know, I have been in Valdira for years. I play religiously. I found many hiding places, dug up many treasures and ancient burial sites. I can say that I found a lake of gold coins, a sea of silver and an ocean of copper coins. But I did not come across such things randomly. So be careful with the words "I just found". It hurts the soul ...”

  "Sorry ..."

  “Eh, it is fine. Will you eat? Lunch break is soon ....”

  "What's for dinner today?"

  “Many things. But many are fond of pasta, Fleet style, and ship tea. According to a special "real" recipe of a Russian seaman.”

  “I will not even ask who shared the recipe ... I will have a bottle of red wine and a cake with raisins. And please feed my daughter.”

  “Got it. We will feed everyone. And yes - your daughter already asked about lunch. Roska preferred the ship's tea and the navy pasta. You cannot offer her a cupcake with raisins ....”

  "And Kirea the Protectress?" I began. “What did she choose? Or do you not know?”

  "You are in my care," responded Bloopy. “Therefore, I know all about your dinners. Kirea chose ... ship's tea and navy pasta... huh...”

  "Uh-huh," I said, rubbing my nose with my fingers. "Thank you..."

  I was left alone, again, - the bridge was packed with people, but in my corner, there was no one. I start to feel myself as a navigation computer - a thing that is necessary, but to which attention is paid only when it is necessary. But when I recalled again the impressive first sum of money, the gloom vanished instantly. In addition, I was fully confident that my role of Great Navigator would not be reduced to only one thing — permanently standing on the battle bridge of the flagship. All the books that I had available talked about the same thing- I did not catch the very essence,
as I did not read it to the right place. But I knew that it would not be my only duty. I was tired of standing like an advertising mannequin or a weathervane indicating the direction of the wind. This was stupid! If there was no way to leave the bridge, even for a short time, I would call the Immortals complete idiots. After all, it would kill all the fun of the long of a hike — if the Navigator were forced to stay within invisible shackles.

  Glory to all the sea gods and demons, my hopes were justified, and the Immortals were prudent and understanding. Or perhaps they had a lot of time. They managed to foresee everything to the smallest detail and calculate all variants of events, including attacks of rabies.

  Two hours later, I stopped reading — tired, but completely satisfied. Returning to the bridge, the Black Baroness found me shining like a brushed copper penny.

  “Can you be here for a while?” I asked, scratching my hollow belly and looking thoughtfully at the creatures flying over our heads.

  “I suppose, you found this paragraph in rules” sighed the Baroness, correctly understanding me. “But you look so good up here.”

  "And I will continue to look as good as I do," I replied. "But after a short pause. Listen, I am gonna be back! Take the watch!”

  “OK. Make sure you’re back in time!”

  “Of course. Although I'm sure that even if I do not want to return, ten minutes before the end of the break, your thugs will seize me by some tender place and drag me back to the bridge.”

  “Exactly. I will tell them which exactly tender place to seize you by,” the girl's eyes narrowed.

  “Hm.”

  “Yeah.”

  "The Great Navigator handed over his ship watch temporarily!" I loudly announced, looking at the head of the Sleepless.

  Immediately a request from the system rose before my eyes. I confirmed it. Then the system lit up with a new request. Before me were the images of five players on the flagship. Why only five? Well, that was what the Baroness decided. She chose the flagship settings and restrictions, and introduced the names of the most trusted persons. Looking through this list, I pointed at the uppermost selection, which stated "The Black Baroness."

  "The Black Baroness takes the ship watch!"

  Before my eyes, a red timer began to tick. I had three hours. For this time, I was a free man, able to do anything, but only within the flagship. Beaming, I nodded briefly to the Baroness and rushed down from the deck. Three hours! It was necessary to examine as much as possible, and communicate with friends and family.

  The idea was simple. It reminded me a little of the cruel conditions of the captain of the Flying Dutchman from the old movie Pirates of the Caribbean. The Dutchman captain was obliged to swim in the seas and oceans without stopping, but once in a few years he received one free day. And on this day he was sovereign master to himself.

  My working conditions were much more lenient, fortunately!

  The countdown started at the moment I stepped off of the bridge. Today, I stood on watch for a little over six hours. When I passed ship watch to BB and left the captain bridge I had hardly three hours left. That six hours I kept watch was divided in two! The result was the time of my freedom. But this was only on the flagship! I only had this stock available when I was on board the Black Queen.

  If I boarded any other ship from the Sleepless Fleet — it will reduce my time of freedom not two, but three times. If I move to an allied ship - an alliance ship - everything was divided by four times. If I was on any other ship, no matter what, the reduction was by five. If I were to stand on land — everything would be divided by ten. I had ten hours of freedom left in reserve - only an hour on land. And this would work only in case that I’m in the range of teleport jump from the native fleet. So only if there were small islands, reefs, shoals or ordinary rocks nearby. After all, we would soon leave the limits of our native continent, and with each passing day we moved farther and farther. There, teleportation magic will not work.

  And what will happen if the Great Navigator was late and not be back to the captains bridge in time, if he did not take the watch?

  O-o-o-oh ... this cannot be done in any case.

  The instruction, disguised as a legend, said that the flagship and ships of the fleet are permeated with ancient magic emanating from the Navigator. And if I did not return on time ... the ships would immediately lose everything that could be lost - the movement, the wind, the direction. It would look like the whole fleet is flying at full speed towards the reefs, as if an invisible whirlpool was opened around it, which immediately scattered all ships to the sides, and broke their order. And that's not all! The area of the sea where the Navigator did not return would get 100% resistance to magic for one hour. So it would either be complete calm, or a hurricane would begin — only not in the right direction. The water would become "viscous" for about an hour — it would turn into a kind of resin.

  And even if the water remained the same - try moving the bulk of the Black Queen from its place without magic! This was an island! A fucking island moving only with the support of artifacts. Without magic, the flagship would turn into a drifting rock ... or it would sink.

  The correct course would be completely lost.

  All penalties were imposed in order to emphasize the seriousness and importance of the Navigator's role. When the penalty hour was over, it would not be possible to get to full speed again - the Black Queen got to cruising speed only after about six hours. It would take just as much time to start over.

  In essence, I was very seriously instructed and warned not to tarry. And so I was not going to joke around with such things— but I would not refuse freedom, either. Otherwise, I would hibernate on the tenth day of the journey.

  Escaping from the bridge, I rushed to my daughter, Orbit, and Kolyvan. I would go fishing with them. See what the bald elf was teaching my daughter. And if I heard something bad, the local sharks would have a delicacy on the menu — bald elf.

  I also intended to take a closer look at my own characteristics and life, as well as mana. It was time to deal with that. The Baroness intended to pump up my stats during the campaign. It is good to prepare in advance...

  But I could not talk to my daughter. No, nobody prevented me, but when I neared them something in their conversation made me stop and freeze without making a sound.

  This was why. The topic of the conversation was so mysterious that...

  “... was it bad that he killed a thousand to save five thousand?” Asked Roska, spearing a worm on a faintly glinting hook.

  “Falling autumn leaves save the branches from heaviness in the winter season....”

  "But in the winter the leaves all die..."

  “Not always. Needles of the pines do not. If you do not want to sacrifice small ones - learn yourself, and teach them to survive.”

  “The leaves are big and beautiful! And the needles are small and simple...”

  "But the leaves die every year."

  “Not everywhere!”

  “Warm places, where even leaves can prosper for years, have long been occupied ... It is only those places where they have to sacrifice a lot …”

  "And if I do not want to sacrifice? If I want to live in a warm, blessed place?”

  “Then you have to remove the old owner ... quickly, decisively, unexpectedly.”

  “To remove?”

  “Yes, to remove.”

  “And what does it mean to "remove the old owner"? To where? Just drive them away?”

  “No. After all, then they would definitely return. To where they can never return from ...”

  “Hmm ... Oh, something’s biting! Ugh ... cherries on the scruff! An achilot again. Caught by the scruff of his neck! Waving something ... what is he gurgling about, Uncle Orbit?”

  “He li-i-ikes it,” Orbit said.

  “Ohh .... Uncle Orbit, who was my mother? Hm? Kira says that it is she, and Busia says that it is she. It is plainly incomprehensible.”

  “What does your dad say? “
>
  “And Papa does not say anything, and he spends all his time with Busia...”

  “Hmm ...”

  “Hmm ...”

  "Yeah yeah yeah," I heard a soft croaking. And noticed that, behind me, the security guard was crouching on all fours, having heard the end of the conversation. How was he against his own team? Must have been out of it…

  "It is not always so easy with children," the half-orc tried to calm me down, spreading his hands. “And with women, no less difficult.”

  "Do you have any?" I asked, as soon as I managed to catch my breath. “Women or children?”

  "No," my guard confessed.

  "Be silent then!" I snapped. “Ugh!”

  “Uh huh,” sighed the guard, thinking deeply about something. Maybe he was trying to understand why he did not have women or children. Right. Let him reflect on how many hours a day he goes to Valdira and how many minutes he spends in the real world.

  “Do not be offended,” I repented. “You will still have real women and children in your personal life. In extreme cases, you can look at them through the window. Listen, where is Malice? I need him...”

  “I know,” the player sighed and began to make strange passes with his hands, obviously working with an interface menu invisible to me. “He’s nearby, somewhere.”

  “Why?”

  “To deal with you,” explained the player. “Something about rapid and painful growth of your character. You're definitely a masochist, by the way.”

  “Why?”

  "I would not risk making fun of my teacher. What can prevent him from feeding you horse manure mixed with the hair of bald Gruhles and say that this increases the amount of mana? Or tell you to eat two spoons of amber wax sulfur of Treeroves from the grove of Rottenplague... or ...”

  "Slow down, slow down," I asked hastily, stopping the rampant flight of the half-orc's fantasy.

  "All right," he agreed. "I will say nothing."

  “And I will continue!” An incredibly angry roar blew over the deck. “And I will voice to you my deep-buried erotic fantasies. First, you need to find one Great Navigator whose name is Rosgard. After that you must take a spike from the harsh tree growing on the slope of the Mortal Torment Mountain, make a good swing and hammer the weapon of revenge right into his chubby as...”