"Tie him up and keelhaul him!"
The pirate crew shrieked in delight all together, sensing the foretaste of a rare moment of excitement. Keelhauling often ended in death for the victim, who would inhale lots and lots of sea water. But even those who survived were generally quite mutilated by the sharp barnacles stuck all over the bottom of the ship.
The skipper seemingly came to — he was now looking around with purpose and shivering when meeting my gaze. In that time the mavka, rope in hand, jumped overboard and soon appeared on the other side of the galley. Everything was ready to start the punishment.
"Please!" the bound captive prayed. "I beg mercy! Give me the chance to buy my way out of this!"
"This pitiful worm wants to deprive us of entertainment!" I turned to the crew and got a predictable reaction of rambunctious whistling and howling.
I raised my hand, calling the crew to silence. After that, I turned to the skipper.
"This damned trader thinks money can buy him anything. But no, our crew wants blood. Although... I suppose I will give you the chance to defer your punishment, or even totally avoid it. But first of all, answer me: where are the children I left with you?"
"They're with the island elder. They were my gift to him, a sign of gratitude for a trade concession we signed with the Island of the Wanton Widow."
Mission change: Silent assault
Mission class: Normal, group
Description: Buy your companions back from the island elder
Reward: 3200 Exp., +10 to relationship with members of Brotherhood of the Coast, +1 to Trading skill
Would you look at that! The noiseless capture of the ship was already completed but now, in the updated conditions for the mission, the reward was higher. Beyond that was the fact that I'd gotten a bonus Trading skill increase — clearly, the negotiations with the local elder were expected to be quite problematic.
"Give me the papers, on the double!" I demanded, but the captive captain just smiled guiltily, as his hands were tied.
I stuck my hand into his pocket and felt a greasy scroll, a ring of keys, and a heavy coin purse, all of which I placed in my inventory. After removing the ribbon sealing the parchment, I acquainted myself with its contents. It conferred the exclusive right to sell goods and purchase marine fish from the Island of the Wanton Widow on the owner of the Tipsy Gannet. An intriguing little thing — just write the proper name in the document, and get a stable source of purchases of cheap goods. That said, it was a small island. The population was just three or four hundred people, but for the start of a big project creating a fish-trading network on the Southern Continent of Boundless Realm, it would do quite nicely. Max Sochnier was sure to like it — it was his name I was planning to write in the documents.
"Where are the documents for ownership of Tipsy Gannet? Although, you don't have to answer, they're probably in your cabin. Well old man, this is what you get for the treachery and horridness you committed against my friends. I should be leaving you for crab food or tying you to an oar on my bireme, the White Shark. But I'll give you a second chance. I'll let you keep your life and set you on the shore alive and unharmed if you can lead the White Shark through the difficult channel into this safe bay."
The crew of orcs started hooting in dismay, but I sharply cut them off:
"Cram it, you buffoons! If the deal comes off, you'll all get a handful of coins and be set free on the shore where you can relax and spend the money on drink, women and fine clothing. But I have one condition for you. Just one, and it's very important: anyone who harms the locals will be hung from the nearest tree! Other than that — make merry to your hearts' content!"
The crew screamed out in joy, having immediately rethought punishing the gray-haired skipper. I heard elated cries and shouts, proclaiming the glory of Captain Amra.
Trading Skill increased to level 15!
Foreman Skill increased to level 16!
* * *
For some reason, it seemed wrong to go into the negotiations without the Naiad Trader, so my sister called and awoke our French buddy. The fish-man initially tried to object, saying that the galley assault could get on without him. But he abruptly mellowed out when he found out what a great reward awaited him — his very own trading ship! And it would start following a regular route, buying fish and seafood from the island of the Wanton Widow and Ookaa, then selling its wares in the large port of Vaant in the Lars Province, or in any other city the ship owner ordered the hired captain to visit.
Max was clearly taken aback and first spent a long time refusing the generous gift. But nevertheless, he eventually agreed to write his name in the ownership papers for the Tipsy Gannet.
"I free all the oarsmen! Free people work better than slaves!" said the naiad, working through his plans on the way to the home of the island elder.
In that regard, I was in full agreement with my friend, although I also asked him to allow the oarsmen slaves a choice. After all, my White Shark also needed to top up its crew. If any of the former slaves wanted to become pirates on my bireme, I asked Max not to stand in the way. Taisha had her own point of view — she thought the Naiad Trader should not free the most mutinous and wild slave oarsmen, otherwise he risked mutiny. The girl also suggested the slave ranks be filled out on the galley with the tied-up sailors. But my companion was unable to give any explanation for this other than the fact that the sailors had tried to capture her and given her a nasty fright.
The mavka didn't join our conversation, and just walked next to us, yawning as she did — it was already midnight and my younger sister was supposed to be sleeping. I even reminded Val of that, pointing to the clock, but my sister asked that she not be made to — here at least she wasn't alone, but being all by herself in the empty, strange apartment was scary.
Distracted by the conversation, we didn't even notice that we had finished walking the path all the way up to the elder's home on the mountainside — it was a two-story stone building with a good-sized garden containing bushes of flowers that were largely exotic to me. Unfortunately, the relentless rain didn't allow me to take in their aroma — all the buds were closed. I also didn't have the opportunity to level Herbalism — Valerianna and Max dragged me onward to the entrance of the house, not allowing me to tear up the man's garden.
"Look at the map!" Valerianna exclaimed, first to notice a nearby marker made of interlocking gray rings.
On the summit of the nearest hill, there was a respawn stone, but getting up there at night in the rain was something none of us wanted to try, so we stayed on our path. I saw no guards at the entrance to the manor, nor did I see any servants. First, I was impressed by the carelessness of the owner, who seemed to have no fear of robbers or break-ins, but then I saw the elder, and my questions all evaporated:
Arlen Proud
Level-211 Human Demonologist
The elder was a tall bald man of middling years in a long burgundy silk robe and funny slippers with the toes pointed upward. Over the wizard's left shoulder, fluttering a pair of short leathery wings, there was a little violet devil giving off steam. The demonologist's servant was around cat-sized and was holding a full glass of wine in its front claws.
All my plans to start the conversation from a position of strength by frightening the naive and timid island-dweller with a pirate attack and demanding he return my companions, were instantly dashed — if he so desired, this magic-specialized conjurer could easily sink both of the ships in the bay at a moment’s notice. Despite the late hour, the elder was not asleep. His hands crossed behind his back, he was standing at the window and watching the ships in the bay through the sheet of rain.
"What business do three undying have in my home?" he asked, not even turning to the sound of the doorbell, or the opened door.
I didn't hear any fear in the wizard's voice. As a matter of fact, no night-time guest could really pose a threat to him. The elder paid Taisha no mind, or considered the goblin girl unworthy of individual attention.
>
"Arlen Proud, we came for justice," I answered. Max Sochnier and Valerianna Quickfoot were keeping silent for some reason.
"And just who was it, little goblin, that committed an injustice against you?" Was it just me, or was there poorly hidden mockery slipping through in the man's words?
"No one here, yet. I can handle those who have on my own. The captain of Tipsy Gannet betrayed me and my friends by basely abandoning us to be torn to shreds by bloodthirsty pirates under the orc the Merciless Aarsch. First, I defeated the pirate captain and captured his bireme. Then, I came here to Tipsy Gannet in the bay and also captured it, taking the oath-breaking fraudster captain prisoner. But while I was gone, he captured my companions by force — two human children and one young goblin — and, not having any rights to those children, he gave them to you as a gift."
"Won't the orc pirates cause problems in the village?" the demonologist asked, completely out of turn, either asking us that question, or talking to himself.
I rushed to reassure the wizard that I had only let three sailors come ashore, and told him they got enough money for drink and entertainment. And at that, the tavern owner assured me that the doors of his establishment would remain open all night, and that his guests would be shown the most equitable reception. Also, I threatened my orcs, saying that if any of them started fights with the locals, I would hang them like dogs. They respected and feared their new captain, so it wouldn't be a problem.
Successful Charisma check
Experience received: 480 Exp.
"Alright then, why not?" the wizard asked thoughtfully. "Other than a few local fishing schooners, few other ships visit my island. Tipsy Gannet is the only trade ship. Once a week, they come to buy our fish and bring us news and goods from the continent. The captain also transported goods and messages for me, when I needed to get or send something."
Max Sochnier, as the new owner of the merchant galley, hurried to assure the wizard that it would all remain the same in the future, but that the captain of the Tipsy Gannet, having proven himself a scoundrel, would be replaced by a more respectable seaman.
"That's good. He always was quite dodgy. Pangs of conscious never stopped the captain from accepting illegal money. But he was a talented conversationalist. It was always interesting to sit with him over a bottle of wine or two and be regaled with his stories of an adventure-filled life at sea. Also, he always came bearing gifts of respect — sometimes unusual trifles, other times, bunches of rare flowers for my collection. Last week, he brought a whole barrel of dwarven homebrew infused with subterranean mushrooms. But he made a poor drinking partner — he'd get drunk very fast. So then..."
The wizard cast his long, studious gaze over us all and said:
"I cannot simply give you back the three young ones just like that. After all, they were a gift and part of my compensation for the trade concession. Well, to be perfectly honest, I have no qualms giving up the goblin boy. I have no need for him whatsoever — he's too clumsy and poorly mannered to make a decent servant. Also, I've heard goblins are prone to thieving..."
Arlen Proud didn't change the tone of his voice, didn't point with his finger and gave basically no hints he was talking about a specific person. But Taisha suddenly blushed, pulled something out of her sleeve and placed it back on the table: a porcelain statuette of a dancing girl.
"So, I can give the goblin back," the wizard offered, as if nothing had happened. "But the wargs are of interest to me. I'd like to study the mechanics of their shapeshifting and see if it can be used on or by demons of the lower worlds. And also, fortunately — I've been given a young male and female, so they can procreate."
"But they're brother and sister!" the wood nymph objected. The demonologist retorted that, when in predator form, they were entirely deprived of human reason and were in no way different from wild animals.
The wizard snapped his fingers, and one of the room's walls dissolved into thin air, as if it had never been there at all. We all saw a big metal cage. Inside of it, the wargs were on a rampage, roaring in rage, foaming at the mouth and gnashing at the metal bars, testing them for sturdiness.
"They're good specimens — young, ferocious and with excellent regeneration. Good subjects for studying shapeshifting. But, if my offer is of interest to my guests, I am willing to bet the wargs in a game."
With a barely noticeable gesture, the wizard conjured two horned demons, carrying a heavy table laden with victuals. The little demons that ran in after them placed four carved chairs around the table. The bald island elder took one of the chairs and gestured for the rest of us to take our seats. We lingered a bit, as there were only three chairs, and four of us. But Taisha said that, in her father's house, she had never been invited to sit at the common table, so she was more accustomed to standing.
"Smart girl. I'd welcome you into my home. There's something worth studying in you," the demonologist laughed. "As you've volunteered, pour everyone a glass of this barberry infusion from the Land of Gloom. As I said, the previous captain of Tipsy Gannet was a worthless drinking partner. What need did I have for hundreds of the rarest wines and infusions if I had no one to sample them with?! I couldn't share them with the uneducated rabble, much less those stinking fishermen from the village. Imagine how they'd react to elven meads or dryad flower infusions! But now, I've been given the very rare chance of treating a group of undying. And what's more, you're from three different intelligent races. We have plenty of time — the whole night's ahead of us, and there will be a nasty storm for the next two days. Your ships will never manage to go anywhere. So, here is my condition: if you manage to keep up interesting conversation long enough, I'll give you my wargs."
Mission received: The Respect of the Demonologist
Mission class: Unusual, group
Description: Keep up the interest of the master of the Island of the Wanton Widow in conversation
Reward: 4000 Exp., Darius and Darina will be returned to the Gray Pack
Optional condition: Outdrink the master of the island
Reward: +5 to relationship with members of Brotherhood of the Coast, random variable reward
"And what if we cannot manage? I don't see anything in the quest for that eventuality," my cautious sister asked me in a private message.
"In that case, we won't get the wargs and, at the same time, we will be bungling the still unfinished quest on capturing Tipsy Gannet. But you don't need to worry much about the main quest — we have plenty interesting stuff to tell the NPC wizard. I'm not quite so sure about the optional part, although Max Sochnier and I will do our best. And you, sis, don't drink too much. You're still too young."
Valerianna Quickfoot snorted contemptuously and asked Taisha to hand her a glass of the ruby red beverage.
"Alright, then. Let's drink to new acquaintances!" said the thin green-haired girl, who was then first to drain her glass. Everyone followed her example.
Poison Resistance check failed
Drunk effect received for 12 minutes
Hungover Morning
I WAS AWOKEN by the beeping of an alarm clock, although its sound was somehow too short and immediately cut out. I cracked open an eye... and froze in incomprehension. The porthole was covered with a curtain. The bed was hard, uncomfortable and too big for my body. Next to me was sleeping Taisha, having swept her bright red hair over the pillow, which was adorned with a sewn floral pattern. Her leg was bent at the knee over my stomach.
Cool. My first time falling asleep right in the virtual reality capsule. What time was it, and how had I gotten to the ship? Finding an answer to the first question was no problem at all. With a simple glance at the clock in the bottom of the screen, I read: eight twenty-three in the morning. But as for an answer to the second question, I couldn't say. The last thing I remembered clearly was us drinking wine in the home of the high-level demonologist. After that, I had a few fragmented memories that I just couldn't put together into a complete picture.
I seemed to
remember the wizard and I hand-feeding meat to VIXEN, and the wyvern nearly biting off the man's right hand. At another point, I saw my goblin all soaked through with rain on the top of a mountain giving a toast of some kind and waving a bottle. After that, I must have stolen the flowers from the demonologist's garden, while the owner was at home standing watch to make sure none of his servants saw us. From there, I remembered a ship, but it wasn't my White Shark, it was Tipsy Gannet. Taisha, on a bet, had picked the locks on the shackles of the oarsmen slaves one after the next. I was reminded that the thief girl had won the bet and was very glad at that fact, but who the bet was with and what for, I couldn't recall. Then we drank some more, or so it would seem. There were these strange scenes of my big-eared Goblin Herbalist walking underwater along the bottom of the sea in a bubble of air, gathering seaweeds practically by touch alone in the darkness. All in all, some disconnected nonsense, probably a dream.
I was very careful trying not to awaken the goblin beauty. I tried to move her leg over so I would be able to stand up. By the way, why was Taisha sleeping in my bed all of a sudden? Although my NPC companion was Amra's official wife, she was always embarrassed to even sit on my bed, to say nothing of sleeping together. There hadn't even been discussion of taking the liberty of embracing or kissing the girl yet, and here I suddenly found Taisha in my bed! Although, on the other hand, there were no other beds here in the captain's chambers, so the girl had no choice—after all,she wasn't going to sleep in the common bunkroom on the straw with the sailors!
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