by Domino Finn
"This is unexpected," I said.
We carefully advanced. Ogres weren't creatures to be trifled with. Any one of them versus any one of us individually wasn't a problem. Taking on the six in the center of a sixty-percent-goblin town, however, was less advisable. We waited until a pair of the green lugs set down a traffic wall before running up to it and looking over.
As expected, the depths of the well were filled with debris. The bottom row of stone seating was flooded. Three steel manacles were affixed to equidistant points of the circle. Only, all three restraints were without prisoners.
"No visitors!" growled an ogre.
We spun as the panicked worker lumbered our way. We instinctually backed away but he quickly converged on us. He was eight feet tall and had arms that rivaled the stone pillars. Worse, I couldn't tell if he was stronger than he was dumb or vice versa.
Thankfully, he stopped short of trampling us. "Wall stay. You go."
"No one's touching the wall," I said coolly. "What happened to the witches?"
"Witch go too."
"I can see that, but what happened to them?"
His massive brow wrinkled in confusion. "No here, little yooman."
"Baz!" admonished an excited voice. "Leave thems alone! Backs to work!"
A goblin hurried over. Even though she wasn't older than seventeen or an inch above four feet, the big guy obeyed her. Baz went to help one of his ogre friends but made sure to check on us every other moment.
The girl clapped fingerless gloves together. I supposed she was tall as far as goblins went. Pointed ears and strawberry-blonde curls, large amber eyes peeking through bangs. "What do humanses want with the Great Well?" she demanded.
"Nothing," I honestly replied. "I was just asking what happened with the witches that were here."
"Oh." She shrugged. "Papa Brugo no need nosy prophets. Killses them."
A few ogres went to work with chisels, removing the shackles from the stone floor. Between that and the erecting of the wall, at this time of night, I got the feeling these orders were recent. I studied the goblin girl, who surprisingly had a unique name.
"Jixa, do you work for the Brothers in Black?"
"Contractors," she said. "Not everybody cutthroat or bandit. We oversees construction. Walls big. Ogres bigger." She grinned.
"They sure are, girl," agreed Izzy. "I bet they need someone to keep them on task. Are you their foreman?"
Jixa shrugged. "For now. I helps calm them down. Moneys hard in Shorehome. No needs trouble."
"We get that. We won't give you any. I'm surprised it's hard to make a living with muscle like that."
"Muscleses not problem. Not enough construction to gos around. Lots of houses were abandoned. Evens more were brands new, ready for new playerses that nevers came. Too much supplyses, no new demand."
I raised my eyebrows. Jixa seemed to have a good head on her shoulders. I thought of the repairs needed on the Cutter. "Aren't some of them woodworkers? Shorehome can't ever have too many shipbuilders."
Jixa shook her head. "Woods is not the problem, waters is. Ogreses hates the ocean. No good building ships. Besides that, we take any works we gets. But we didn't kills the witcheses. That was the Brothers."
Izzy nodded along amiably. "Why were the prisoners put to death?"
Jixa shrugged. "They talks too much. So do yous. Be on your way. More works for us."
A small crowd of goblins had begun to congregate, no doubt irritated by my pagan notoriety. Besides the ogres, I wasn't sure who was working and who wasn't. I didn't want to get in the way of anyone's schedule, and I definitely didn't want to start a scene here.
I sighed. If the boggart witches had been killed, they could've respawned in the city, but something told me they were more than likely back where everything started. By the mountainous waterfall south of Stronghold and the scene of my tutorial. Practically a million miles away. It was safe, at least.
"Okay, we're leaving. Sorry about the distraction."
Jixa's face softened at my apology. She squinted as we turned to go. "Wait. You Stronghold Protector? Visited Shorehome before?"
I paused, wary. "Yes, actually."
"You saved my lala and cousin. In house where cleric wanted to kills her."
I nodded.
"You also made peaces with paganses."
I chortled. "Temporarily, anyway. It's a step in the right direction, but it won't last without everyone putting their best foot forward."
She pouted and stared at her feet. Her boots, like the rest of her outfit, were made of stained hide. Bare toes and fingers poked free of the garments. Somehow, even the razor-sharp claws on them were cute.
"Cha," she told the others, scooting them away. "Cha!" Once she'd afforded us room to talk, she stepped closer conspiratorially. "Witches was speakings about another savior. After you defeats Orik, no oneses wants to listen. Brugo mad. Executeses them at sundown."
"Saviors," I spat.
"That was right before we entered town," said Izzy.
I swallowed uncomfortably. "What else did the witches say?"
The goblin shook her head. "They talks crazy crazy. Hard for Jixa to understand."
I turned to Izzy with gritted teeth. "And what do you wanna bet the Papa didn't want us hearing what they had to say?"
Kyle frowned. "You think those evil crones had some enlightenment on the situation?"
"Even without eyes, they could see things no one else could."
"Bummer."
I stepped away, wondering if I could squeeze in a hunting party sometime in the near future. "Okay. I appreciate your help, Jixa."
She bowed. "Thanks for helping goblinses."
"I'm just glad the pagans don't need to be at war."
"Oh, Jixa not pagan. Many goblinses left the pagan faction. Otherses stayed. Freed peoples choose their own path."
I smiled and nodded. "As it should be."
We left them to their work and moved on, not saying anything for a few minutes. The goblin girl watched after us with curiosity.
"Jixa," mumbled Izzy with a grin. "I like her."
Kyle chuckled. "You're just happy to see someone even shorter than you."
She smacked him with the winter staff.
1320 Sea of Thieves
Our housing options were limited so I finally gave in. With much apprehension, we entered the Derelict Dagger. It was a trashy pub with a barrel of grog for every shady character. I kept my head down and headed to the inn upstairs. There was only one room left for the three of us. Shorehome didn't get many visitors, but these were the kinds of rooms that rented by the hour. That was okay. After a day on a boat, the bed felt presidential.
At one point in the night Kyle tried to sneak out. Being the largest and loudest of us didn't help his cause, but I didn't say anything. He deserved his fun, and so did I. When he was gone for good, I turned to shake Izzy awake.
Her eyes snapped open. "I was waiting for him to leave."
We had some quality alone time. Even though the environs weren't the most romantic, there was an adventurous slant to it, and a bed of any sort was a hell of a lot more comfortable than a table. All in all, I bet every single one of us had a night worth remembering.
I had to kick Kyle awake in the morning.
"What's the matter, bro? It's gotta be the crack of dawn!"
"We wanna make it back to Stronghold with some daylight left. How late did you get in?"
Kyle opened his menu to check the game clock. "Thirty-seven minutes ago."
"You were gone all night?!? That must've been expensive."
"I wasn't here the whole time. I'm not Superman, you know. I was over at the Bear Pits. They have gladiator matches against grizzlies wearing metal jaws. This place is medieval."
I laughed. "Well, let's get a move on. You can sleep on the boat."
Although it was still dark outside, the Boardwalk was a hive of activity. Harbormen, guards, and Brothers in Black all shared the security load. Ea
rly starters were setting up the fish market and other wares. General townspeople congregated to watch their crime boss leave the city, possibly for the first time ever. Down the main dock, the Cutter looked good as new. Errol and the rest of the crew were on deck making preparations. A new behemoth of a ship was in port as well. I could only figure the stately black ship was Brugo's own.
Speaking of the big man, I didn't see him anywhere. Hadrian and black-clad rogues were stationed at the Boardwalk, presumably waiting for him. I introduced myself.
"You sailing with us?" I asked.
Hadrian wiped down his thinning black hair. "If the Papa wishes it so. He does sometimes change his mind for little reason."
That wasn't a description people liked to hear of their allies. "Hey, now that I got you here, could I ask you a weird question?"
Hadrian arched an eyebrow and stepped away from his men so we could whisper.
"Have you heard of an assassin by the name of Poe?"
The Whisperer nodded. "Of course I know of him. And before you go on, I know what happened in Stronghold." I jerked my head back in surprise. "Loose lips are everywhere, Talon, and I hear all. But have no fears. Poe isn't a Brother in Black, though he has done work for us from time to time."
It made sense that Poe wasn't a true Brother. He hated goblins and they welcomed them. "What kind of work?" I asked.
"He's not only an assassin, you know. Do you need me to find him for you?"
"Can you?"
"If he was in Shorehome I could have him within the hour. Alas, I haven't received word of him in days."
I wiped the damp ocean mist off my chin. "Yeah, well, I know for a fact Saint Loras is handing out contracts and daggers, so no worries. I had to ask."
"Understood. Thanks for waiting until the Papa wasn't in earshot. He can be easily offended."
I chuckled. "Can't always count on him to be reasonable, huh?"
"I wouldn't go that far. Brugo serves a noble purpose. The crime gangs might seem like unchecked corruption from the outside, but Shorehome doesn't have a standing army. We don't have the saints watching over us. Papa Brugo may not be a bleeding heart, but he's the best man for the job."
I nodded, understanding Hadrian a little better. "Is that why you serve him? A player under an NPC?"
He smiled. "Being the boss is overrated, Talon. Take that lesson from Poe, if nothing else."
"I'm gonna take his head when I find him."
"I don't envy your burden, you know. It can't be easy to live up to a legend."
I shrugged because I didn't know what to say.
"But to answer your question about working for an NPC, like you, I don't discriminate. Maybe we are all less human than we think we are. Players have more in common with NPCs and mobs than they do with their loved ones back home."
It was a radical idea, but not when you looked at the nuts and bolts of it. Haven was an evolution, all right. That was why it was so important to make the most of it.
"So, about Poe," I said, steering us back on track, "is there some way to hold him accountable for what he did?"
Hadrian stiffened. "That, I'm afraid, is another matter. Technically, there's nothing illegal about what he did."
"Not illegal? He tried to kill me."
The Whisperer sighed patiently. "Look around you, Talon. Shorehome is a city of mercenaries. You can get anything you want here for the right price: sex, labor, favors, even bounties."
Our eyes ran over the assembled crowd. There really were all types here, and the sketchy trappings of the city didn't extend to every resident's heart. Large forms caught my eye. The band of ogres with Jixa. She watched us intently.
"And it's a free system?" I asked. "No one steps on anyone else's toes by hiring someone?"
"Contracts are contracts," Hadrian explained. "Brugo was not aligned with you. Even now, no formal allegiance exists. But that is why we work together, to learn to trust. As far as contracts go, Brugo doesn't take kindly to needless regulation. As long as the agreements don't oppose his own ends, anything goes."
Pay to play. I nodded and thanked him, already distracted. Anything goes. I stepped away from the group and headed towards the onlookers with an idea. "Jixa, what're you doing here?"
The girl seemed embarrassed I'd caught her. "Jixa watches for friendses to sails away."
"Friendses," I repeated. "You mean that?"
She nodded. "Yes. You make peaces. Agains now, betweens our peopleses."
I scratched the back of my head and appraised her group. "I was thinking about what you said, about the hard times in the city and all. Can your ogres do woodwork and stonework?"
"Anythings."
"And they're not above hauling supplies around?"
"Ogreses can moves anything, builds anything, and destroys anything you want."
I smiled. "What do you and your crew think of taking up some honest work in the core city?"
Jixa's eyes lit up. "Really? Now?"
"Pretty much. We're leaving in fifteen minutes. I know it's not a lot of—"
"Yes!" she snapped. She spun and started into discussion with her team. They hurried away with a promise they'd be back.
"What was that about?" asked Izzy as I returned to the Boardwalk.
"I think I just solved our labor problem."
We headed to the ship and made sure Errol was cool with the new passengers. We were so undermanned there was plenty of space for them. Actually getting the ogres on the boat was another issue entirely. When Jixa mentioned them hating the water, she didn't explain the primal fear they had of it. Apparently ogres were so large and dense that they sank like a boulder chained to an anchor. It took lots of goading and promises of better times ahead, but we got everyone loaded up. Six ogres, Jixa, and three other goblins. Given I had more silver than spare hands, it was a score.
Unfortunately, the extra preparations meant I'd missed my chance to chat with Papa Brugo before he boarded his vessel. I was hoping to lay some ground rules before he entered my city. Then again, I did enter his unannounced. To my credit, I wasn't a notorious criminal.
As the undisputed lord of Shorehome, Papa Brugo sailed in style. Twice the size of the Cutter and even with an edge on the Deep Blue, his destroyer was the largest boat I'd seen yet. Hadrian marched Brothers in Black and soldierly troops below deck, human and goblin alike. The Void unfurled dramatic black sails and sliced through the water ahead.
Izzy: Aren't you worried about inviting a bunch of scoundrels into Stronghold?
Talon: Of course I am, but peace is worth the risk.
Izzy: And if they turn on us?
Talon: They would be vastly outnumbered. Just to be safe, we'll leave the bulk of their force on their ship outside the walls. The city watch will remain vigilant.
I was satisfied to see the Cutter fully repaired. Even the harpoon chain was brand new. Errol had warned the Brothers in Black of the enemies we'd encountered on the way. With our new allies, I was confident we could take on the trouble. Strong winds glided us past the barren Salt Sea and into the open ocean.
The first half of the day was mostly dealing with seasick ogres. Believe me, you haven't imagined disgusting until you've seen chunky ogre puke. Back above deck, Errol and I watched with pride as we sailed past the undine shipwrecks, now scattered and in pieces. The captain kept his telescope handy and checked the horizon in nervous anticipation, but Prince Navoo never showed.
The crew deployed our sailor wax as we approached the Singing Spires. The wind oddly died down again as we drifted between the columns of rock. Back and forth I searched, surprised by what I saw. Nothing. No swaying hips or bouncing breasts. Not even a suggestive seagull.
Talon: Kyle, hold me down if you need to.
Kyle: What are you doing?
I unplugged the sailor wax from my ears. The brewmaster's eyes widened and he hurried to clamp me in a bear hug. He was holding me tight, expecting resistance.
Only there wasn't any.
Wa
ves crashed against rock but, between the endless clashes, the famous Singing Spires were silent. I blinked in wonder at the harsh yet beautiful landscape. It seemed surreal this go around and I couldn't put my finger on it. No undine, no sirens—that was one thing. But I realized I hadn't spotted any playful dolphins either. No fish. No coastal gulls scavenging for food. The sea was desolate.
The Cutter and the Void cleared the Spires unmolested. The crew enjoyed their rest as we met the coast and sailed through the Albula's river mouth. Our voyage ended with the sun still high in the sky. Perfect sailing, zero encounters—it was actually pretty boring.
We anchored the ships north of Stronghold. Both crews unloaded into smaller skiffs. We granted the Brothers in Black enough sightseers that they needed a few trips. Our smaller group was easier, but the ogres refused to get into the pint-size lifeboats. Izzy volunteered to march them around the tended land and through the west gate. Problem solved.
As the river gates opened for us and we paddled our skiff beneath the heavy city walls, a shadow seemed to loom around us. Was it the shaded stonework? The river depths? The feel of moving parts all coming together?
That was the problem with my passive intuition. Short of a direct surprise attack, I wasn't sure if any odd inkling was the skill flaring up or just a gut feeling on my part. One thing was certain. Something about the entire day was bugging me. I just couldn't put my finger on it.
-- Cutscene --
A small team gathered in the corner boardroom of a sleek glass tower in Seattle. Christian Everett sat before Pete and four other members of the community team.
"It's most definitely a big deal," assured Christian. "The core team has given the okay. We're ready."
The audience blinked in anticipation.
The CEO smiled and turned to the projected display on the large screen. The technical details were light in this presentation. It was meant to be reassuring and inspiring, more psychological preparation than anything else. Christian clicked through the feel-good slides as he spoke.