90.

Here it is!  Tried to get it out by end of May, but guess it's 1st day of June.  Barely.  I'm going to go to bed now.

90.

When I asked for the Captain, two men stepped forward; one in a full kit of armor made from some scaled beast, the other wearing a tailored red and black uniform. My first thought was the Captain and a bodyguard, but I was proved wrong when the armored man removed his helmet and addressed me.

“I am Captain Willoughby. And you are Domenic Seaborn. Please explain to me how I should interpret this as anything but an attack on an imperial vessel? Speak quickly!”

I gave a carnivorous grin. “I saw you pull out and load special enchanted munitions after you saw my ship surface. Rather than let you do something incredibly foolish like try to take me on, I decided to graciously open peaceful dialogue! So long as you keep to this peace, so will I.”

Captain Willoughby was a hard man, and he kept his stats hidden from my view. Still, I could infer a couple things about his position. The first was that he was a soldier, not a sailor. The man in uniform beside him was the one with nautical expertise. Nevertheless, he’d been placed in command. I’d bet that was because he was a loyalist to the bone, and had been transferred from some army command to lead the charge in Makam’s naval expansion.

At a guess: he was a hard man who would not object to sacrificing the lives of his crew for a purpose – or even his own – but not someone who would make a foolish mistake. Maybe for the pride of the Empire, but I’d have to get a better understanding of him before wagering on that.

He pondered my statement. On the one hand, my claiming to be able to see their preparations could give him pause. On the other, he seemed rather confident in whatever countermeasure they had cooked up for me. If he was going to provoke a fight, now would be the time to knuckle down and refuse me.

“I accept your delegation on the Emperor’s behalf to discuss parley agreements,” he said, standing up straight and folding his hands behind his back. Because of my Domain, I could see the hand signals he made. I didn’t understand them and they might have been innocuous, but I didn’t trust that. He was a grizzled veteran and he was looking down on me, so he probably thought he could play games.

I could play games too.

The Dark Raven had been circling the imperial ship under Jack’s temporary command while our boarding team prepared. I raised the ship, and she responded beautifully, surging up through the surface like a breaching whale, her dark form imposing, her tattered sails and broken keel lent to the unnaturalness of the ship.

She remained far enough away that the imperials were outside its sphere of influence, otherwise they would have had to deal with the fear effect. I had reasons not to do that yet; it would be considered an attack by any reasonable person and I didn’t want to expose all of my abilities to this commander if we did leave peacefully. If I had to attack a ship, I’d rather they were unprepared for the mental effects.

Not that the mere sight of the ship didn’t have its own effect, Willoughby rapidly signaling something else and another bystander scampering below decks to stop the first messenger.

Willoughby and I maintained eye contact, me with my insufferable smirk and him with his steely superiority. We both knew he wasn’t in complete control anymore though – or he at least suspected it.

Not that I was: he could stonewall me and we’d leave without having done anything more productive than show I had another ship.

He gestured towards the quarterdeck. “Traditionally we would disarm, but I think we would both agree to forego that arrangement.”

“Say three companions each?” I asked. He frowned, but nodded. I was slippery, but not good enough to put myself in arms reach of someone as martially inclined as him without backup. He barked several commands with hand gestures that I assumed conveyed something else entirely, and men scurried off to pull a table and chairs into place.

I was impressed by the discipline of the crew. The sailors had the look of conscripts while the soldiers looked like they’d been pulled from a regiment, but not a single one of them had uttered a peep since the Captain had stepped forward.

Gnar had arrived, being among the second wave climbing aboard. I motioned for him to join me, along with Drese and Tarball. Gnar and Drese were advisors as well as extremely powerful. Tarball … Tarball was off-putting. The hobbit had taken to front-line fighting but never did anything without a cheerful grin. His armor had been cobbled together and adjusted to fit him but he walked with the confident step of someone who knew their weapon.

He coincidentally rounded out my council as entirely multi-species, which wasn’t an intentional message but one I didn’t mind sending.

Willoughby had picked three accomplices as well, one of them the naval man so he at least acknowledged his need for advice in that realm.

“It occurs to me,” I said as we all sat down. “That for all of the goings-on in the world this last year I’ve never actually met someone from your Empire.”

“Our presence on these seas was sharply limited, once.” Implying it was not anymore. They naturally counted every vessel from Andros as under their own flag now, so they weren’t quite wrong. “I must say that many in Makam have heard of you.”

“Only occasionally have I found that flattering.”

His lips quirked. “The Empire is removed enough from sea tales to consider things with a colder eye. Rather than tavern stories, word spread through assembled dossiers and assessments on your potential impact.” Someone brought a variety of bottles and mugs to the table, but Willoughby was the only one to pour himself something.

“I’m curious about those assessments: even I wouldn’t have guessed where I’d be a year ago. Much like few saw Makam’s takeover of Andros coming.”

Willoughby waved his hand as he swallowed whatever had come from the purplish bottle. “Only unforeseen to those not aware of its government! The Emperor has been fostering a relationship with the nation since the regent’s father was on the throne. When someone so young ascended, it was quite natural for him to look to the Emperor to guidance.”

Hali had said something quite similar but painted very differently, including planted advisors and military encroachment. I wondered if Willoughby was selectively presenting facts or if he was indoctrinated into believing the benevolence of his empire.

“I wasn’t from the area, so I never heard about those things.” I pointed at the Raven. “My man at the helm over there though … he’s rather upset.”

“Hmm, you do take in all types.” He managed to not look at any of my companions as he said it, but he had to be deliberate about it. Gnar and Tarball both took the understatement in good humor, the Halfling eyeing the various bottles on the tables before looking my way as though wondering if he ought to ask permission. Drese was not amused with Willoughby’s slight.

“It’s a practice I understand your empire has some trouble with,” I said. I probably ought to have phrased that better, but we were having a discussion on why we weren’t going to kill each other so we ought to get to the point.

“Every land we reclaim is given generous terms for tribute. When they chose violence, we return it on them doubly.”

I brushed past the concepts of considering the world as their former claim and tribute as abject subservience. “So it is the greater power that you respect? Well you have certainly come to the right place!”

He scoffed. “You may have me outnumbered here, but you are no match for an entire Empire!”

“Not me,” I gestured my arms around. “This. The entire sea is rising to your challenge! I wonder if you’ll do better this time around?”

Willoughby showed me his teeth in the same approximation of a smile that a shark might give. Nautical disasters were supposed to have broken the back of the old empire, Ma’ata Kamris. My lack of reverence galled him, but he wasn’t hot-tempered at least.

“This surge of monsters was unexpected, but I am sure we will prevail with time.”

Tarball, only half an ear on the conversation, succumbed to temptation and got up to grab the same purplish bottle Willoughby had poured from.

“That’s the thing,” I said with a sigh, leaning forward and dropping the smile I’d kept plastered on until now. “My goal is to shepherd the sailors on the ocean, protect who I can and try to keep naval exploration alive. To that extent, I can appreciate the resources and strength your Empire can bring to bear. However,” I held up my finger. “However, I keep running into pesky little facts that I absolutely cannot abide. Such as this superiority over the other races, absolute conquest, slavery with no escape; tell me what am I to do, Captain? When the people I want to be helping are the people who deserve the edge of my sword?”

It was halfway rhetorical, but Willoughby didn’t miss a beat. “You should adjust your priorities. Take to saving whoever you can and listen as they praise your name for your aid.”

Tarball took a sip of his chosen drink and his eyes immediately brightened. “Why, that’s sweet! I haven’t tasted something this sweet since …” He trailed off, the light in his eyes dimming as the shadow of memory crossed his face. The next moment it was gone, his smile returned and the mug at his lips again. “Well, it reminds me of home, anyway!”

The Halfling was seemingly immune to the glare of the Captain, but it might count as an attack.

“You see Captain,” I went on. “If I was to only be a lifesaver then I’d have to look the other way while the Empire sailed rough over everyone else. I’d be saving lives to return them to a slave market. That’s not what I’ll do, it’s not who I am. Right or wrong I won’t let others get by with what I think is wrong. I am a cursed Captain of the Deep, not a moderator or a policy maker. I am steward over the inner oceans, and I will enforce my judgement on those plying my waters.”

I stood up. “This conversation was less about discussing a parley than conveying expectations. Everything I’ve heard says that Makam will not change or stop for anyone. If that’s the case you’ll need better than what they gave you for your ballistae. But I’m hoping that all the trouble from the monster surge will make your Emperor see good reason to ally with me instead, at the cost of a few moral concessions.”

Willoughby stood up with me. “I see that you are not addressing me, but attempting to address the Emperor. I am not his mouthpiece, but will attempt to relay your … ultimatum.” He struggled to say the word, his disapproval for such a concept clear.

I had intended to suggest some trade with them, but following my diatribe and given the demeanor of their whole crew to us, I decided to bail on that. I also hadn’t asked about their sailing intentions, because I didn’t want to tip him off about my own plans and I expected his immediate priority would be to relay our encounter up his chain of command as fast as possible.

I signaled Gnar, he signaled the warband, and within seconds everyone had gone over the side, returned to the sea.

There was no pursuit or attack. They knew better.

Gnar caught up to me as we swam back to the Raven, which submerged to pick us up. He had Mirash in tow. “This ought to improve your mood,” he said, thrusting forward a ballista bolt. “The skulker got it, alright!”

“Right out of their ballista,” Mirash said smugly.

Enchanted bolt of Purging Flame

Upon contact, releases the purging flame of Eyadon. +300% damage to blessed, cursed, or enchanted targets.

I analyzed it and raised my eyebrow. “Good work! Jorgagu will want to take a look at this.”

We did not leave immediately because we didn’t have to. We’d made our exit, now there was no way for the imperial ship to know where we were. The water was murky enough that non-magical eyesight wasn’t likely to spot us if they were right on top of us.

We did want to know what they were up to, however, and I didn’t mind waiting to see which way they sailed.

In the meantime, I briefed my officers on what had happened and showed them the ballista bolt. Jorgagu analyzed it carefully.

“The ‘purging flame of Eyadon’ is a unique effect. It probably would mean something to an imperial; perhaps Eyadon is a volcano or something. In any case, it’s a specific type of fire damage. To get any sort of oomph out of this, they would have had to have a powerful team working together to bind the spell matrix to the bolt. They spared no expense in materials either, it seems.”

“Can you copy it?” Gnar asked. “I know it’s targeted at us for curses, but it’s just as effective against other enchantments and blessed stuff, if they bring that out against us again.”

“No,” Jorgagu stated firmly. “My specialty is far diverged from this. I can make a hundred basic fire bolts for what they put into this one specialized weapon, but this will always be a far superior product.”

Which Makam had the infrastructure to mass produce. No pressure.

“We’ll have to test it out,” I said. “I believe we can part with one of the rowboats on the Internment. Sadeo, if you would arrange it?”

“My pleasure!” the kitsune said, taking the bolt.

“Jorgagu, anything else you can tell us about its effects?”

“It is a specialized fire spell, like I said. It will bypass basic fire resistances, but they should still hamper it.”

“I can add ship fire resistances to our priority upgrade list. Fortunately the Raven had the basics before she sunk.” I remembered launching a fire bolt at her sails when she attacked; how my heart had soared when it hit the sails, and how it had dropped when the fire splashed harmlessly against the canvas.

I cleared my throat. “We can conduct the testing while we’re doing repairs. We’ll scope out the bay once the imperial ship is gone. Anything else?”

Jack signaled with his finger. “While you were gone, one of the lads thought they saw a humanoid shark watching us. The description he gave me makes me suspicious there are Makon in these waters.”

Half of my advisors didn’t know what that meant while the others displayed different reactions – all negative. I elaborated for those who weren’t familiar with the stories. “Makon are a race of amphibious creatures that resemble half-human sharks. They are intelligent, capable of communicating with each other and using tools and weapons. But they’re so violent there’s never been successful communication with them. They’re typically regarded as very dangerous monsters.”

“And eliminated if they show themselves near any port, before they raze it to the ground.” Jack added. “If we’re hoping to trade with the outpost here, we might want to check that it’s still standing.”

“Agreed. Check with the lookout to see if the imperials have set sail yet. Gnar, Arnnaith, and Hali … let’s figure out how we should visit this outpost.”

Having a powerful ship with mighty warriors under your command would make most people prone to taking a direct approach in everything. I’d seen it in a dozen ports; Captains and crews thinking themselves the toughest in town and acting like it. Smart ones recognized when they were just a fish in a school, but rare was the mighty crew that went into every port like they were sneaking under the eye of a dragon.

It didn’t surprise me when Hali suggested we enter the outpost through subterfuge – that was her specialty. It did surprise me when Gnar and Arnnaith quickly agreed. The orc and half-elf were different enough to have alternative approaches to many issues but had worked together enough to be on the same page most of the time. That they instantly saw the logic and reasoning of the spymistress and moved into discussing logistics reminded me exactly why I went to all the trouble of gathering such capable experts.

The outpost was small, but it was designed to offer some protection from the elements and from roving sea creatures. Marching my crew up to the front gates would likely end in embarrassment for us. Infiltrating and occupying the outpost would send the wrong message. We could send Hali alone, as she was a capable spy and wouldn’t show as cursed even to a detailed scan, but lone wanderers didn’t approach island outposts.

We needed a small team to enter as representatives of ship that we could say was moored in the bay anchorage on the opposite side of the island from the outpost. At one point there was an attempt at a settlement at that bay, but yearly storms were too much for it. It was now used by large ships for anchorage – when there wasn’t a storm threatening, anyway.

To sell our story, we had to actually sail to the bay and check whether there were any ships there. It wouldn’t do to show up in town with the lie only to be outed the minute someone asked about the other occupants.

The imperials set sail on an easterly heading towards Andros, so they likely were headed to immediately relay our interaction. We brought the Raven and Internment around the island and into the bay.

My seamanship and cartography skills itched as we avoided a sandbar that definitely hadn’t been built as high the last time I’d sailed through here a few years ago, and I indulged by drafting an updated chart. Perhaps someone had taken soundings and mapped the changes already, but I doubted it. That usually only happened after a disaster, and we didn’t see any wreckage.

My charting of the bay itself – which was deeper now, following the logic of the currents that flummoxed landlubbers – was interrupted when I observed in my Domain an odd bit of wreckage after all, settled keel-up on the bottom.

I focused on it and didn’t comprehend what I was seeing for several seconds. Then it moved. My eyes went wide and I cried “To arms!”

My sudden shout made everyone go from an ‘easy mooring’ attitude to ‘bloody seafoam, what’d we miss?’ yet everyone reacted with alacrity like they’d been drilled. Designated warriors drew weapons, prepared to fend off an immediate threat while their companions rushed below to their medium or heavy armor. If there was time, everyone would get kitted up as soon as the reinforcements were all ready. Sadeo was barking orders, having the ballistae readied with an assortment of enchanted munitions but only normal bolts loaded first for ranging shots, without knowing what the threat was yet.

I still had trouble understanding what it was below us. It was roughly 200 feet in length and resembled a lobster except for having 10 legs and 2 pincer claws on each side of its body, with half a dozen eyes extending from its massive shell. And its pincers … they looked like they could cut through a mast without difficulty.

I quickly relayed what I was sensing to Gnar, and Arnnaith returned with our resident animal-expert in tow.

“Rhistel,” I said. “What’s down there either hasn’t sensed us or doesn’t care. It’s not reacting so far. See what its motivations are and then give me your assessment on what to do with it.”

He nodded to me and swam over the side and down towards the … giant lobster. Rhistel would probably give the thing a name while he was down there if it didn’t have one already.

Meanwhile … we twiddled our thumbs. I kept an eye on the elf as he did his thing, approaching the creature and communicating with it in whatever ways it could. It stirred as he approached and gestured animatedly – as did Rhistel, in response – but besides waiting for Rhistel’s report there was nothing for us to do but hold our weapons ready and keep our eyes peeled.

It took time, but eventually Rhistel had his answers and returned to the ship. “Captain, I don’t believe there to be any imminent danger.”

I nodded to Gnar and let him have the crew stand down but not disarm. “Your full thoughts?”

“It’s a very simple creature, Captian,” Rhsitel said. “Neither its species or brain size have given it more than an animalistic cunning. It wants to make a safe den and it wants to eat and never be hungry. However it is not merely a scavenger. It actively hunts the surrounding area and shoreline. It doesn’t really differentiate between types of food – if it’s not a ‘predator’ than its ‘prey’ – but I believe it has eaten some of the humanoid inhabitants of the outpost or perhaps taken a ship that came here. The details on where it ate humanoid prey were confusing, but that’s what I interpreted.”

I nodded. It didn’t sound like something for us to try and immediately kill, but was exactly the sort of monster we were set on culling from the waters. We’d have to assess its strengths and weaknesses and arrange for a later attack. “Does it have a name?”

“I gave it one, at it seems to be a unique enough creature to merit it: Norsa Atsa.”

I still didn’t know elvish, but Arnnaith snorted, so I had to ask. “What’s that mean?”

He gave me a level look. “Giant claw.”

My naming sense might not be the greatest, but at least I admitted it.

Moving on, we decided to proceed with our outpost visit. Hali would naturally be going, and after dickering about over who could best determine what we needed and how many warriors to take if things got dicey, we determined that I would go as the expert on all things the ships needed, and the remaining slots in the group would be professional warriors or sailors with developed fighting skills to sell the illusion. If we were going into a larger town I would need more help to spread out and source everything for resupply, but in a small one-stop-shop like this I could manage it all just fine.

I had my Hide True Nature ability from long ago that I once again employed for a basic disguise. Hali had her professional abilities to cover her perfectly so long as it was only for a limited time; anything prolonged would require she use the enchanted necklace I’d bought then given her. Since this was only supposed to be a few hours, that necklace was loaned to one of the warriors.

Our bodyguards were where the illusion got risky. They all showed as ‘cursed’ in their stats to anyone who could see them, and lacked my Hide ability. Our only means of mitigating that was to take our highest-level candidates who were less likely to have their hidden stats peeped on. With only humans we shouldn’t look too suspicious, hidden stats or not. Gnar held a team of reserves out of sight from the outpost in case we needed help bailing out.

Our detailed plan in place, we walked up to the gate. I wore my coat but not my hat, pretending to be a young first mate. “Ahoy!” I called, waving at the sentry as soon as we came to view. For his part, the man’s mouth dropped and he pointed us out to his companion. That made me nervous, thinking we missed something obvious and were blown already, but the two immediately started beckoning us madly to hurry up!

Glancing at Hali, we picked up the pace and jogged through the opening gate, bypassing a pair of crudely constructed traps on the way.

The gate closed behind us, but the sentries didn’t turn to encircle us, they were still focused on scanning the nearby rocks and brush. “Where’d you come from?” the first asked.

“We moored in the bay,” I said. “We didn’t see anyone else but …”

“They’re from the bay!” the sentry yelled. “Someone made it!”

Flabbergasted at how much attention our supposedly innocuous ruse was grabbing, I looked to Hali. She simply shook her head and stepped forward.

“Oi! Stop yer yammering and tell us what the dickens is going on, and where I can grab my groceries!” she waved a sheaf of paper that indeed had a wish list from Gerald if the outpost had it.

The two sentires looked at each other before one joined us and the other resumed his anxious watch. “Sorry, it’s just … we signaled a ship from Makam the other day but we haven’t had anything but refugees since this madness all started!”

“You mean the crazy monsters attacking everything?” she pressed.

“Yes! No! I mean that’s what’s started everything, but it’s the Makon raiders that have us bottled up in here right now. We were sure that they were watching us from where you showed up!”

I glanced back at the path. None of our group had a skill for tracking, much less something good enough to scan the rocky trail, but we hadn't seen any sign of hostile Makon yet.

Hali gave a good performance. She looked like she was concerned about the news we’d been given but hiding it under bluster and business. In a few sentences, she acquired a guide from one of the people showing up to see the commotion and sent the sentry back to his post believing he’d saved us.

More likely it was the presence of Gnar’s warband that had moved with us up the trail, but why spoil the guy’s attitude?

Our guide showed us to a warehouse with a faded sign saying ‘general store’. We’d come the back way over the island, and as we got closer to the sea we found the storage facilities that held everything for ships that moored at the nearer, smaller anchorage. I saw no sails there either.

As we stepped inside Hali handed me the sheaf she’d been carrying and I started talking shop with the proprietor while Hali moved to the side to talk with some lads organizing the shelves under the guise of critiquing their goods.

The proprietor was a mustachioed old man roughly my height with the scars of a fisherman on his hands. As we discussed supplies, he took Gerald’s whole wish list and set it to the side.

“I’m sorry, but without supply runs or trade recently we’ve got to hold onto all the food we currently have, Mayor’s orders. I don’t even know if we’d dare fish the sea even without the Makon given the monster surge here.”

I eyed the list with a grimace, knowing I was going to have to have another talk with my cook about investing XP into food production on board the ship. The proprietor had given me a good opening in the conversation, though.

“How long have the Makon been around?” I asked in a subdued voice.

“Showed up with the other monsters just after the message from the sea about the danger,” he replied in a similarly hushed tone. “Only the bastards have taken up residence here – haven’t given us a moment’s peace! They’ve assaulted the walls twice, but those were hunting parties, I swear, not serious attackers. We couldn’t really hold off a whole tribe. Can’t endure a siege either. Don’t make sense why they’re not attacking while we’re still fat and juicy, and I swear that knowing they could overrun us any moment is going to make everyone in town go mad!”

“How many have you seen? What kind of weapons and armor did they have?”

He answered my questions but clearly had something else he wanted to say, something he had to work up to but finally got out. “I have a girl, she’s barely a woman. I been trying to get her off this rock but now I’m desperate! If you get your supplies today you’ll turn around and leave before the Makon come for you? Take her with you! I’ll give you the best deals in my store that I can, I’ll do whatever else you need to assure her passage …”

Before he could get too deeply into his desperate plea that I couldn’t accept, I shuffled through my papers and pulled out the ones with lumber measurements and estimates. I laid it before him.

“Our ship was damaged. We’re here to conduct repairs. We can’t leave until they’re done.”

The man deflated like sails given a slack wind. “You won’t survive. The Makon will pillage your ship. Even hoping to get away by tonight would be a roll of the dice.”

“We left some warriors aboard our ship. They’ll give any Makon scouts a bloody nose. We still need to try our repairs, or else our whole crew will become a burden on your strained resources. Am I wrong?”

“You’re not wrong,” he muttered with the tone of someone who thought there was no hope either way but conducting business was a needed bit of normalcy.

Before we got down to the brass tacks, the door swung open and a young man in a faded green coat with scraggly black hair and a saber at his side strode in. “Good morn – ing …” he started off with an exaggeratedly cheerful greeting but nearly cut himself off as his eyes ran over my men loitering while Hali and I did our business. His eyes glanced at the proprietor, me, and back to my men. Back to me, back to my men. His face was pale.

“We’ve been discovered,” Hali said from across the room in a clear, non-urgent tone, to the confusion of the others in the building.

I stepped forward and cast my magic even as the lad turned to bolt. A gust of air slammed the door closed in front of him and a frozen sheen of water appearing at his feet caused him to slip. He tried to draw his saber from the ground. I strode over and kicked his sword hand before it cleared the scabbard and grabbed him by the lapels and dragged him up.

“Quiet down there son,” I said, adopting as laconic a drawl as I could manage. “Don’t go haring off or you’ll hurt yourself. Let’s have a chat.”

My men had moved around the building, guarding potential exits and the handful of help the proprietor had doing inventories. Without instruction, they began to corral everyone together.

“What’s going on?” The proprietor said. “Robberies or raids on the outpost are a violation of multiple peace and trade agreements … you’ll never sail with a legitimate business again or even most of the illegal ones!”

“No plans of thievery here, our gold is just fine.” I said, pulling the young man over to the counter and motioning for him to sit on the stool. I didn’t disarm him: a quick analyze showed that he was a level 9 professional administrator with two levels in swordsmanship being his only true combat potential. Getting to level 9 at his age wasn’t bad, but it was to be expected out here where XP opportunities literally surrounded him. None of his XP was likely gained from fighting humanoids, and I’d bet he was only wearing the sword for show.

Looking at the lad who had his lips pressed into a tight line, objectively terrified, made me sigh and pull Hali aside. “Best way to proceed now?”

“Give them your identity and your pitch. Try to keep them quiet long enough for us to do our business and get what we want. Once we do, then everyone can have all the character debates they want.”

I nodded. It lined up with my own thinking. I returned to the nervous kid and proprietor and clapped the youth on the shoulder. “This isn’t a robbery. You see we’re willing to pay our coin for things, but we wanted to buy it anonymously. My reputation is currently in tatters and I didn’t expect you would deal with us under any other circumstances.” I gestured to myself as I lowered my stats. “If you analyze me now I think you’ll see why.”

The proprietor did, but kept a much better poker face than the lad had. He then glanced around at my crew surrounding him – not hostile, but looming. “Alright, what’s your deal?”

I pointed at the sheaf of papers on the counter. “Whatever is there that you can sell me. If I can’t buy what we need here I’ll have my crew try to make what we need from harvesting around the isle. You get gold, we repair our ship, we’ll even undertake some pest control on the local monsters.”

“And if I say that sounds too good to be true?”

“Then think of it as us buying a reputation where I don’t have to do this charade every time I wish to step ashore.”

His mustache quivered as he placed his hands very deliberately on the counter. I couldn’t help but marvel at the dichotomy, seeing the two reactions people tended to have around me right next to each other: the shivering wreck and the righteously indignant.

“Tell me what kind of presence you and your crew will have in town. Tell me whether anyone who lives here will find themselves sailing off with you when you leave. Tell me whether we’ll all still be alive and unharmed when you do!”

“If anyone sails with me, it will because they’ve convinced me they want to. If …”

The proprietors hand smacked the table hard enough I suspected he broke it. “You expect anyone to trust your word games? To think I almost sent my daughter off with …”

My sword embedded itself in the wood of the counter by where he’d smacked it. I left it there and leaned over it, drilling my eyes into him while he was off-guard. “Now listen, I make a practice of hearing people out and accepting their right to dislike me, because I know exactly what kind of reputation I have. But I have neither the time nor patience to listen to your spew, so here’s the deal: I’m giving you fair trade for worthy goods, and I’m throwing a bloody lifeline to your whole outpost while I’m at it! I don’t ask for any special payment, just that you stay out of my bloody way while I fulfill my purpose!”

I pushed away from the counter and huffed. I’d let my volume slip a little at the end there. And I’d stuck my bloody sword in a solid slab of wood. Nice going.

At least the proprietor was backed down, but strangely enough the administrator kid seemed to have recovered somewhat.

“My dad’s the mayor!” he exclaimed.

I thought he was trying to threaten me with ‘my dad is an important person, so watch out!’ I shot him a glare that told him to shut up. I’d had grown men whither under some of my glares, so the way he gulped and straightened his spine was impressive. “He would gladly hear your case, and discuss any monster culling with you!”

Ah, so he wasn’t threatening me with his dad, just trying to entice me. It could be bogus, but he did dress like a semi-important son would. “Right now I’m here for supplies, not to have a discussion with the local leaders,” I said.

“But you’re meant to!” he exclaimed. “I just got a quest related to convincing you to help our town!”

“A quest isn’t fate, lad. A quest is a challenge. At the risk of repeating myself; I am willing to have these discussions and help out with the monsters, but right now I’m here for supplies.”

The lad turned to the proprietor. “Give him the supplies! He’ll be in your debt and agree to help us!”

The proprietor rolled his eyes and ignored the kid’s naiveté. “You said you had gold?” he asked wearily.

“Name your price,” I replied.

You have advanced to skill level 2 in Trade. Increased bargaining power, people are more likely to accept your demands.

Foaming swells … never thought that would be how I advanced that skill.

The proprietor went through the papers and marked a number by each item or group, referencing a ledger occasionally. I looked it over when he was done and judged that he was truly giving me a fair price. I’d have been annoyed if he did a huge markup but not surprised. I didn’t haggle; I had more gold than was worth carrying around.

“Please have everything readied. I will send two of my men to go retrieve your payment.” I had some gold in my bag, but not enough to cover this large of a transaction. “After I have what I came for I’ll talk to the mayor or whoever else is in charge here. Until then, please keep your silence. I’ll be leaving some of my men to oversee.” And to pry my sword from the counter, because I wasn’t going to start wrenching on it now.

I got acknowledgement from everyone and left with two of my warriors as guards, leaving Hali in charge of the rest.

The sentinels at the gate were still vigilant, so we went through the rigmarole of preparing ourselves and our weapons for conflict. Rather than try and stop us, they simply wished us luck.

We found Gnar and his warband right where we left them out of sight from the outpost. The sentries were alert with several spying covertly on the outpost’s defenses. What I didn’t expect was to see everyone else lounging on the rocks in the sun like a bunch of lizards!

They looked comfy. I wanted to join.

Gnar lifted his head from his pillow – or pack – and squinted at me. “I truly expected shenanigans from your trip, but you’re back just like that?”

“The shenanigans are waiting for my return,” I explained. “Have someone fetch the gold, we agreed on a price.” Then I found myself a nice spot and folded my coat as a pillow of my own.

“We’ve got the chest over there, you can take care of it right now.”

“The goods aren’t ready yet,” I explained. “Besides, returning too quickly would be suspicious. Got to keep up appearances for awhile longer.”

Gnar stood over me, squinting at me like he hadn’t had his own nap already and couldn’t cool his heels a bit longer. I pulled out my tricorne hat to block my view of him and closed my eyes.