by Shawn Wyatt
I nodded. “Just imagine if you could tame one of those.” Boris whined and butted his head against my outstretched hand. “Or not. I don’t think Boris would like that much,” I said with a laugh.
“Just wait until you see the other side,” Quinn said. “We have to circle the city to reach the docks. Sit tight and enjoy the view.”
He steered Betsy around the front of the city, and a head the size of the Rock of Gibraltar rose from the waves.
The Great Turtle Tarawi blinked, the movement slow and studious. Intelligence blazed in those ageless eyes. Tarawi could have made a single snap of her jaw and swallowed the entire vessel.
I met her eyes and held them, unable to believe the sight in front of me. The experience reminded me of speaking with Duneyrr, the forest spirit of Toris. Both entities controlled great power, but somehow, Tarawi seemed infinitely more powerful.
Evey seemed lost to the sight. Her eyes had glazed over as if she accessed her character screen, but the Beast Tamer kept her focus on the turtle. She remained that way until Tarawi looked away and her head vanished beneath the waves.
With the spell broken, Evey looked at me. “I’m not sure what to say." Her voice was soft and breathless.
“Neither am I." I shook my head.
Quinn grinned. “The same thing happened to me the first time I laid eyes on her. But you should see the three bigger ones. The largest of them all, Kiribati, has a head as big as...well, one of her children. Something about her gaze seems to pierce straight through you.”
He slowed the ship and brought it to a stop alongside the docks. No one else stood on the pier except a group four players—each with their weapons drawn. Quinn sighed. “Great. Time for collections.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Let me do the talking,” Quinn said. “These guys are part of the pirate crew. Tarawi—the city, not the turtle—has been under the control of the pirates ever since the new leader took over. These players walk through the city and collect tariffs so the Pirate King can sit on his laurels and get rich.”
I made a sound of disgust. "It's hard enough to live in this world without forced taxation. Why doesn’t someone just dethrone him?"
Quinn shook his head. “As far as I know, no one has ever seen the Pirate King. People call him Scar, but only in back-room conversation. Now quiet.” He whispered the last word, and I raised an eyebrow.
Betsy bumped against the dock, and one of the four players caught the mooring rope. “Well, if it isn’t Quinn,” the leader said. He wore heavy armor and wielded an axe that looked ready to cleave the ship in two. “And you’ve brought friends. You know the drill. Pay up, each of you.”
“Hold on, fellas,” Quinn said. “Taxing newcomers isn’t the way we do things here. You tax the ship owner, and any visitors pay increased prices in the city. Don’t try and pull anything over on me.”
The leader chewed the inside of his cheek for a moment. “Fine. You want to pay for all of them?”
Quinn sighed, reached into his pocket, and dropped a handful of gold coins into the player’s hand. The axe-wielder grinned. “Thank you for your contribution to the Great Pirate King. Enjoy your day.”
The four thugs strolled down the dock and moved over to the next area, where another ship had just pulled in. Quinn turned to face us. “Alright, now you four really owe me. Let’s go.”
Bastion glared at the players. “We could take them,” he said. "They don't look that strong.”
“Yeah? Could you take the rest of the city, too?” Quinn spit off the dock. “Better to pay than to die.”
“I don’t like bullies,” Bastion said. His gaze followed the thugs, but he moved his hand away from his sword. The flames had flared, but shrank in size at the absence of his touch. Quinn gave the blade a curious look.
“You might want to keep that hidden,” he said. “Since the pirates took over this city, theft has become rampant. An enchanted weapon like that needs a sheath."
“Don’t have one,” Bastion said, his tone hard.
I grinned. This had become one of my favorite topics of conversation. “Yeah? And why don’t you have one?” I asked.
“Ren, shut up. I didn’t know leather would burn like that.”
Wish sighed. “I told you to learn to control your temper.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Bastion grumbled. “Whatever.”
I laughed and turned to Quinn. “I can pay you back for the pirates' fee.”
“No need, mate. I’ve got it covered.” He gave me a thumbs up. “I may lack any redeeming qualities, but I’ve got gold to spare. Now let’s go before they come back and ask for another fee out of spite.”
The city of Tarawi looked like a medieval town. Almost every building had been constructed from brick and given a thatched roof. Every few hundred yards, taller structures served as guard towers. Banners with the Jolly Roger hung from each of these towers. The townspeople shot us suspicious glances as we strolled through the streets, and I heard more than one door lock as we passed.
Quinn caught my gaze and sighed. “Folks in this part of the town are scared. The more deplorable pirates like to hang out here and prey on the townsfolk. It’s worse the closer you are to the docks. In other parts of the city, things aren’t quite this bad.”
“You said before they would kill you. Even players?”
“Yeah. The players that signed on with the pirates don’t believe death in game is permanent. Well, some of them, anyway. Some of the pirates aren’t such bad guys.”
“What do you mean by that?”
“Some of them joined up for safety. Shella is dangerous. Not much sold ground, and travel between islands is dangerous. Numbers help keep you alive. Everyone here is fighting for survival, and they’ll do whatever it takes to stay alive. I imagine it was like that on Toris, too.”
I nodded. “You aren’t wrong. Most people stayed within the city gates. They never ventured out unless absolutely necessary.”
“But you aren’t most people, I take it?”
“You might say that.” I grinned.
"Figured," Quinn said. “Remember this. The way the pirates work is pretty simple. Most are NPCs. The leader and several of the highest ranked members are human players. And there are human players scattered among the rank and file, but they’re a mixed lot. Some are there for safety. Some are there because they’re useless pricks and enjoy controlling others.”
“So what happens if you don’t pay up when the thugs come by?” I asked. Someone must have refused before.
“Simple again. They’ll beat you until you cough up the dough. If you don’t have it, they’ll throw you in the brig.”
“So freedom has an actual price here.”
“Yeah," Quinn said. "About ten gold per week.”
For myself and my party, that wasn’t much. But for average folk, that could be a lot. I didn’t know how much money NPC characters had on them, but ten gold per week might tax them by quite a bit, especially if the pirates charged ten gold per head.
The sound of shouts and laughter interrupted my thoughts. Stalls lined both sides of the street ahead. Vendors stood and hawked wares—everything from basic weapons to specialized ingredients. The sight looked like any other bazaar might, until I saw the prices. Every item here had a 500% markup.
The oppressive prices marked a stark contrast to the lively atmosphere in this part of the city. Players and NPCs alike milled around and haggled over wares. Others argued outright. The vendors knew their trade, though, and few players managed to knock off more than a few gold from the price.
One street up stood a row of mostly-empty vendor booths. A single player sat in a booth and dozed, his booth emblazoned with an image of a sail made of coins. Alongside the image someone had carved "Merchant Marines."
That looked interesting, I thought. The player jerked awake as I approached. “Hey," he said, stifling a yawn. "What can I do for you?”
I pointed at the sigh. “What ar
e the Merchant Marines?”
He gave me a funny look. “Jeez, man. You didn't just start this game, did you? We’re a guild. We’ve set up an auction house system, since it was the one thing this game lacked.”
“How?” I had noticed the lack of an action house back on Toris, but I had no idea how to implement it.
The player laughed. “It’s easy. We have a lot of Beast Tamers in our guild. They use their pets to deliver the items to various islands and to bring back the gold. We also have permanent marketplaces set up in every island and city. Of course, there aren’t a lot of people here.” He looked around the empty marketplace. “The pirates’ presence here makes it less than inviting for a lot of people to come.”
“You aren’t worried they’ll target you?” The guild seemed like an easy way for the pirates to make a lot of free gold.
The player shook his head. “We’re the richest guild in the realm. We could buy an army four times the size of the pirate’s fleet. Not even they are that stupid.”
“So could my party and I sell items through you here?”
“Sure. But the moment I delivered your earnings to you, a group of pirates would show up and demand their share.” He leaned forward and whispered. “Wait until you get to Fenua. It’s the next island over along Tarawi’s movement path. Sell your items then.”
“Thanks,” I said. I turned back to Evey. “I don’t get it. All that gold, and the efforts to make it, could be better spent trying to beat this game. Trying to get out and go home."
She shook her head. “Beats me. Maybe they don’t have anything outside the game to go back to.” Evey looked up at me. “I never asked you. What is it that keeps you going? What's driving you to get out of here?
I sighed. “I’ve got a kid sister that’s in the hospital. She’s been sick for a long time, and the only thing that makes her smile is when I visit.” I closed my eyes and counted off the time we’d been stuck in the game. “So I haven’t visited her for seven weeks. Two months. I have to get out of this game so I can be there for her.”
Evey stared at me in surprise, and then threw her arms around me. “I’m sorry,” she said. “I never knew.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “I didn’t tell you. I haven’t actually told anyone, come to think of it.”
Evey kept her arms around me a moment longer, then stepped back with a blush. “Well, if you ever need to talk to someone, you know where to find me.”
“Thanks,” I said. I looked up and caught Bastion's stare, a sly grin on his face. I glared back. He looked away, but I saw him hold out a hand and accept a coin from Wish.
I’d get them for that.
“Hey, Quinn,” I said, with a sudden need to control the next topic of conversation. “Where would the airship landing be?”
The pirate shrugged. “No idea,” he said. “I’ve never seen one. But if I had to guess, it would be on Kiribati. It’s the largest city.”
“Then that’s where we need to go.”
Chapter Three: Tarawi
“It’s how much for one night?” My voice sounded strangled, like someone had wrapped their hand around my windpipe. Or my wallet.
“30 gold pieces,” the innkeeper said. The man yawned, bored and unmoved by the sound of my voice.
“30 gold pieces could buy this entire inn in some places.”
“Yeah? Well, not here, kid. 30 gold for the night. Per person. Or go somewhere else.”
I forced my fingers to release the coins and dropped them into his outstretched palm. “Fine,” I said. “I need a decent nights’ sleep. But for that price, could you at least throw in a map?”
The innkeeper laughed, a gruff sound that came from deep in his trunk-sized neck. “Sure. Here you go.” He tossed a rolled parchment across the counter. “Keep it. Maybe it’ll be more use to you than me. Not like I’m going to leave Tarawi anytime soon.”
“Thanks,” I said. The innkeeper grinned. He didn't need to say how much he enjoyed the profits in this city. “And if anyone comes into my room, that cost better cover damages. I’m not cleaning blood from the floor.”
Bastion patted me on the back. “There, there. We can make more gold.”
I glared at him. “Not all of us can earn a living curing hangovers, you know.”
He grinned. “All about that hustle, man.”
“You should have plenty of business here,” I pointed out. The candles on the walls marked the time as just past five in the evening, yet patrons sprawled around the inn. Not one could be considered sober. “Once you all get settled in, come to my room."
I went upstairs and counted the numbers on the doors until I found the room the innkeeper had assigned me. It offered little in the way of luxury. A full bed dominated one side of the room, with sheets pulled tight against the mattress and a comforter tucked under the pillows. A towel lay folded on the foot of the bed.
At least my gold had bought a clean room.
The room had a single table and two chairs, both nicked and marred from years of use. I threw my pack on the bed and unrolled the map on the table. At first glance, the map showed nothing but ocean. Four turtle symbols circled a larger symbol at the center of the map. Between each turtle lay small islands, each with a word scrawled beside the name.
Tarawi claimed the bottom-left section of the map. I traced the turtle's path—denoted by the almost invisible arrow pointing to the right—and found the next island. The word "Fenua" had been scribbled underneath it. That would be the next stop along the journey. The Merchant Marine had told us the truth.
Quinn opened the door and stepped inside. “How do you like the room?”
“It’s clean,” I said. “Don’t care much for the price.”
He shrugged. “I guess I don't even think about it anymore. That’s just how things are here in Tarawi. Or how they’ve been since the pirates showed up, anyway. The economy adapts.”
“But this is an MMO,” I said. “The economy is based on player need. Drive prices too high and players will leave. Where does the money come from then?”
“About that.” He took a deep breath before he spoke again, and I felt a tickle at the base of my neck. I had a snagging suspicion I would not like what he said next. “They tend not to let players leave. Force them to stay on the island and generate revenue for them.”
I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. It took several attempts before I found my voice again. “What?”
“It’s not the best situation.”
"Let me get this straight," I said. I pinched the bridge of my nose between my thumb and forefinger. “You brought us to an island knowing escape would be difficult, and knowing the entire economy is built around exploitation?”
“I had a plan!” Quinn shrugged.
“Had?”
“Had. As in, the plan no longer exists. Your best bet now is to wait until we dock at Fenua in a few weeks and sneak away then. The marketplaces are often crowded enough that no one will see you slip away.” Another shrug. “Sorry mate. That’s how it goes sometimes.”
"What exactly happened to this plan?" I demanded.
"You didn't notice all the pirate ships at the docks? Those mean the Pirate King is here. And that means we can't possibly sneak away."
I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. My patience had begun to wear thin. “Whatever. I’ll figure out another way off this island. What can I expect to find in Fenua?”
“The Merchant Marines are set up there. It’s the largest island on Shella. A lot of fishermen—a good place to learn the craft, if you haven’t picked it up yet—and a great place for information. You may just need to grease a few palms, if you know what I mean.”
Before I could say anything in response, Evey, Bastion, and Wish walked through the door. “Uh oh,” Evey said. “Ren’s got that look again.”
“What look?” I asked.
“That look you get when you’re about to test the PvP capabilities of this game.”
Quinn raised
an eyebrow and took a step back.
Bastion nodded. “Yeah, she’s right. You need to calm down, man.”
“I was calm,” I said. “Was.”
Evey grinned. “You’re so easy to get riled up.”
"I'm easy to get riled up?" I asked "Quinn, why don’t you fill them in on what you’ve told me?”
“I don’t know, mate.” He eyed my pistols. “I’m not sure I want to.”
I glared at him again and addressed the party. “Quinn, in all his wisdom, has brought us to a city that doesn’t allow anyone to leave. Well, the pirates don’t. If we leave, so does their income.”
“But that doesn’t make any sense,” Evey said. “If players spend all of their money here, how are they supposed to get more?”
“That’s part of the scheme,” Quinn said. “They’ll get recruited into a pirate crew to earn more and then given special dispensation from the Pirate King to leave the city.”
“Why didn’t you just say that?” I asked. “We can go straight to the Pirate King and....request to be let go."
Quinn shook his head. “Do you have a death wish or something? Besides, it’s not that easy. The Pirate King, or the NPC that used to be the pirate king, is dead. A player has taken over.”
“What do you mean?” Bastion asked. “A player killed an NPC and claimed rule over the pirates?”
“Exactly," Quinn said. "And Ren, don't think you can take on the Pirate King. A few of the more headstrong players have tried. None ever came back"
At the bottom of my vision, a quest prompt appeared.
<<<>>>
New Quest! "Island Hopping"
Find a way off Tarawi or to travel freely between the islands of Shella.
<<<>>>
I dismissed the prompt and looked around the room. “Did anyone else just get that quest?”
Evey, Bastion, and Wish nodded. Quinn’s eyebrows had tried to crawl somewhere into his hairline. “Well, that’s new," he said.
“Did you issue that quest to us?” I asked. Players couldn't issue quests, I thought.