Seaborn

“Take us around her again.” Burdette looked at me askance, but did as I ordered, despite it being our third time circumnavigating the whaling ship. I’d made an excuse about cowing them into submission – a valid one, it seemed, as the frenetic motion on deck had died down into quiet, fearful stares at our ship – but my real goal was time. Time to think.

There was one option I could think of that I thought I could pull off to complete Jones mission and avoid killing my old crewmates. It all depended on Captain Coe’s role in this hunt.

“Take us in on her port side,” I said quietly to Burdette as we turned. “Don’t hit the whaler, but make it as close as you could manage.” Burdette just grunted. With his skill level I expected we’d be inches away and didn’t even bother with the gangplank.

“Zander, Hrothgar, Krantoron and Phillip! You’re with me on the boarding team. Step lively!”

Hrothgar and Phillip responded with the trained professionalism of fighters who knew what they were doing and had spent time in a chain of command. Krantoron was hesitant, the big Minotaur looking around hesitantly since he wasn’t a primary fighter. I didn’t need him for that, though. I just wanted him to look imposing. Zander responded to my order like an eager dog straining at its chain to catch a rat. If the man wasn’t my best fighter, I wouldn’t have picked him for something that I hoped ended peacefully. Any real fighters on the Essential would recognize his threat, though, and that should dissuade anyone from setting the match to the dry old ship that represented this situation.

I straightened my coat, checking my weapons as I did so. My bag of holding was readily accessible and filled with my other weapons.

Why did I keep feeling that this was going to end very badly?

Burdette brought us in as close as I’d expected. As the deck of the Death’s Consort was above that of the Essential, I submerged the ship just enough to make up the difference.

A simple step from one gunwale to the other, then I dropped back to the deck of the old whaler.

It felt like coming home.

The gazes of the crew were anything but welcoming, and I was mildly surprised at how many I didn’t recognize. Coe must have a mostly new crew for this venture – a quick analyze showed that most were indeed new sailing hands.

My analysis of the crew was just to distract me from the man front and center at my arrival. My old Captain.

“Hello Coe,” I said. “Did you miss me?”

Whatever Coe had expected me to say, it wasn’t that. He opened his mouth once, closed it, and then mimed stroking his own beard as he nodded significantly towards me.

“I see you’ve grown it out.”

The absurdity of the comment nearly made me laugh, but I contained myself. There were dark shadows under Coe’s eyes, but that wasn’t strictly new. The older man often burned the candle at both ends, and at a job that was stressful enough without taking on legendary hunts. The crew shifted uneasily, but their glances at the Captain’s non-aggressive posture kept them restrained. More than one glanced into the thick fog surrounding us like they expected monsters to be sneaking up on them. Idly, I wondered if they thought I had caused the fog myself.

After several seconds of silence, Coe felt the need to say something more. “We all heard that the Wind Runner had been lost. Word spread that the princess and a few others had made it to shore, but I never knew if you were one.”

“I wasn’t. The Wind Runner was lost. So was I.”

The friendly light in Coe’s eyes died and he looked over my shoulder at the Death’s Consort. “Aye. I see that. Is …” Coe hesitated. “Is he there?”

“Jones? No. He has business elsewhere.” Coe seemed to give a quiet sigh of relief before I went on. “As I’m sure you noticed from analyzing my ship, I am in command.”

“Yes, though we didn’t scarcely believe it to be true! Of all the unexpected miracles …”

“I’m not your miracle, Coe, and you know it.” I said quietly. I didn’t mean for my tone to be quite that menacing, but I wasn’t going to dial it back now. Everything depended on the full cooperation of the whole crew. “I’m here because I’m Jones’ new lieutenant, and he’s sent me to save Vassaevi.”

The hope that Coe had been stubbornly clinging to left him like a fickle breeze quitting the sails, and he deflated. Not for long, though. The old man was hardy, and toughest whenever he looked the threat straight in the eye.

“It saddens me to hear, Domenic. Your story is one so tragic it ought to fit in a ballad. But,” Coe’s voice lost the familiarity we’d had and hardened into the tone of a Captain. “While I am Captain of this ship, I’ll not let you conscript even one soul of my crew into your own!”

“I’m not here for your crew, Coe.” I said. “I’m here for the mages that are drowning Vassaevi.”

Coe’s face became angry. “Those men are my passengers, Domenic. They’re under my protection! You can’t have them either!”

So he had just been hired to ferry the mages while they did their business. Good, he’d be less invested and more willing to give it up. “Coe, bring the mages on deck and their response will decide your fate.” I knew charisma was my lowest stat, but I leaned on it and my experience with the Captain and hoped he made the right move. “Refuse me, and I’ll drag the Essential to the bottom with all hands.” I made sure he understood that I wasn’t bluffing, either. And the only way to do that with Coe was to truly be willing to follow through on my threat.

Coe glanced at my ship and at the imposing team I’d brought onboard, but the weight of his gaze rested longest on me. “You’d do this to your old crew?”

“Don’t question me again, Captain.” I said. “You know me. Make the smart move.” There, I’d all but told him!

He nodded slowly. “Hawkins, go ask the mages to come up.”

I started as someone I’d missed ducked away and darted below. Hawkins … the last time I’d seen the man he’d been drunk off his rocker, praising me over and over for saving his life. Judging by how he’d avoided my eyes, he wasn’t taking my new role too well.

I glanced around, trying to stop myself from feeling guilty. “Fink,” I said, nodding to the big harpooner that was Coe’s first mate. “Been awhile.”

Fink didn’t respond, just strangled the haft of the harpoon he was holding. I guess he wasn’t taking my new role too well either.

C’mon, guys, what did you expect? Think that I’d welcome you aboard and give you a tour of the deep?

I didn’t try making any more small talk. We waited until Hawkins returned – still avoiding my eyes – followed by three mages.

The first was the clear leader of the trio, dressed in expensive robes that boosted his wisdom and intelligence attributes. I could tell that he was also the one actively maintaining the spell that was keeping the hydra contained below.

The second was dressed similarly, though he had lower natural attributes. He was assisting the third, who was an oddity that drew my attention. He was dressed in plain garb covered with stains, but while most his stats were all places at 20, his intelligence and wisdom attributes were over twice that.

I tensed, conscious of how powerful this mage could be, but he stared vacantly at the horizon.

Marcus had mentioned people like this while warning about attribute imbalance. This man had deliberately imbalanced himself and lost his mind – or perhaps developed the capacity to think so deeply as to mean pretty much the same thing. He was a ‘battery’ or someone with enviable mana capabilities even if he lacked the consciousness to use them without guidance.

The leader glanced at Coe before looking at me defiantly. “Well, boy, what is it you want?”

“You will cease your spell holding Vassaevi and leave, never to pick up your pursuit again.”

“The spell is not something that can just be ended, amateur.”

The mage had to have a reason to be provoking me. He probably had a spell covering that reflected damage, hoping I’d give a powerful strike and cripple myself.

I began summoning water in a pool around me and moving it with water whip. The crew murmured and backed away at my display of 6 arms – costing me almost a fifth of my mana but worth it. The mage sneered at me. He knew exactly what spells I was using.

Flick, flick, flick, flick!

You have received 2 damage from water whip!

You have received 2 damage from water whip!

You have received 2 damage from water whip!

You have dealt 2 damage to Human Mage!

My arms all targeted the mage, only with incredibly light strikes. The fourth whip to hit broke through the mages protection and inflicted damage, causing him to wince. His spell would have reflected a large amount with each strike – probably more than I could manage to deliver – but the weakness of such shields was their vulnerability to swarm attacks. My light strikes made his impressive ability useless.

Light snaps at the other two mages showed that they didn’t have the same protection.

“Now,” I said. “I’ve seen focused magic like yours before. Quite frankly I don’t care about what you say you can’t do. I can tell you’re powering it, and if you say you can do nothing then I’ll kill you and see if that works.”

The mage grimaced, his act gone. “If I release the beast now it’ll surface and kill us all. If it doesn’t the king will when he finds out we failed.”

I pulled out my trident, resting the butt of the weapon on the deck. “And how would you measure your odds with me?”

The mage took in the imposing figure I cut, with my appearance, half dozen water whips awaiting my mental commands, and unusual weapon in hand, all framed by a cursed ship in the thickest fog.

I couldn’t imagine he was opening his mouth to do anything but surrender, but then the ‘battery’ mage woke up.

“So!” he said overly loudly, like a simpleton. “A cursed human but not undead! I have just the thing to take care of you!”

He brought his empty hand back like he was going to hurl a spear. Zander twitched is focus away from the lead mage and raised his own spear, but I’d already pulled one of my hidden blades and flicked it the short distance. Lots of practice and 10 levels in small blades lodged my throwing knife in his throat. He choked on whatever casting he’d intended and collapsed with a gurgle, the younger mage crying “noooo!”

The lead mage also readied his own spell to retaliate, but I stopped him and the readying crew with a barked command. I pointed at the older man, choking with HP’s rapidly falling.

“Save him if you have the means, but if he tries to strike at me again it’ll be the lives of all three of you!”

The mage didn’t hesitate, rushing to the older man and removing my knife. He put his hands over the spurting blood and they started glowing. Powerful healing magic put a strain on the man’s mana resources, and it was with satisfaction that I saw him forced to release Vassaevi in order to manage it.

As the old man stirred, the leader gave a quiet order to the young assistant, who hesitated but conducted his own casting. A moment later the old man was in a deep sleep.

The leader stood. “Well, it’s done. Assuming we don’t die in the next few seconds, it’ll be hours before I can do the casting of the spell again and I doubt Vassaevi will still be close enough for it to work. You’ve gotten what you wanted.”

I nodded. “Give me your word that the hunt won’t resume, and I’ll let you leave with your lives.”

“I can’t speak on behalf of the king or the other mages!”

“Then give me your word that you won’t resume the hunt, and you’ll do everything in your power to dissuade others.”

The man nodded. “Agreed.”

“Swear it.”

The man closed his eyes and shivered. Then he repeated the words. Apparently he spoke for the old man, but the young mage had to repeat the oath for himself. I received the notification of their oaths to me and nodded.

“Men, return to the ship!” Most my boarding party eagerly returned to the ship, happy to be nearly done with their mission. Zander had to tear himself away – obviously disappointed he hadn’t taken the chance to spear someone. I remained alone. Once my crew had stepped over, I had my ship begin to sink.

Coe and I shared an expression, which I voiced. “I have too much respect for you, Captain. It hurts me to say I hope we don’t meet again.”

Coe nodded. “Captain.”

I stepped over the side and dropped to the water and down to the deck of my descending ship. Vassaevi had fled, wanting no part of whatever had contained it. That surely said something for the age and condition of the beast, as the Vassaevi of stories would have avenged itself.

“So, is that it, Captain?” Phillip said. The implication was clear: are we free?

“We descend a bit further,” I said. “Mr. Burdette, I’m going to be in my cabin. I feel that Jones knows what happened and wants to communicate with me.”

“Aye, aye, sir.” Burdette replied. All eyes were on me. I swallowed. The moment of truth was coming soon, where I’d find out whether I really could decide to just release my crewmen.

But first, I needed to address the growing presence in my mind that I recognized as Jones’. That shouldn’t take too long. I’d freed the old hydra and turned the mages back. My charisma had come through for me and Coe had cooperated!

I close my cabin door behind me. Scarcely had my hand left the latch before Jones thundered through my mental barriers.

Davy Jones has engaged your mental capacities!

You cannot resist your master’s mental effects!

“What have you done?” Jones roared inside my skull. My muscles seized and I was hurled to the floor, immobile. “I gave you a task with a clear objective, and you deliberately undercut it!”

“Vassaevi is free!” I grunted through clenched teeth. “The mages have sworn not to resume the hunt!”

“Do you think those magickers don’t have ways around that simple oath?” Jones demanded. “You had them where you wanted, and you let them go! You struck one down, and allowed the other to heal him!”

Pain lanced through my whole body, and I writhed on the floor, howling wordlessly.

“Not just the mages, you parlayed with your old Captain, all with the express purpose of undermining my intent that you kill or conscript them all! And you were proud of your accomplishment? How do you feel about your Charisma now, boy?”

You have been stripped of 1 Charisma.

I screamed in renewed pain as I felt the loss of an attribute. The savage fire dancing across my nerves was joined by a tightening of my skin across my body. I had to do something!

“It was … a plan!” I managed to shove the words through my teeth. “I needed to progress … ungh … my questlines!”

Jones saw through my bald-faced lie in an instant. “You dare try to trick me?’

You have been stripped of 1 Charisma.

“I didn’t order you to advance those questlines!” Jones continued. “I ordered you to kill those hunting the old snake!”

“Orders were … to stop the hunters …” I said. “I stopped them!”

Jones clearly didn’t care about me splitting hairs over my instructions.

You have been stripped of 1 Charisma.

You have been stripped of 1 Charisma.

When the pain receded it left me gasping on the floor, and I realized I didn’t know how long it had been since Jones last spoke. I knew that pain seemed to last much longer than time really passed, but it must have been an hour of torture!

“Do I have your attention now?” Jones growled quietly.

“Yes,” I whimpered.

“I made an investment in you, and it’s yet to pay off. So now I want you to sail to the Broken Isles. I want you to attack, raid, and destroy until you’ve gotten over this squeamishness of yours.” I felt Jones orders sinking into me with the same finality that his last orders had. “You understand – you are not to leave the isles until you’re willing to slay whomever it is necessary to slay. Then I’ll have real use for you.”

“They’ll track me down,” I said, my voice raw and foreign to my ears. Was that blood I felt lining my throat? “I’ve been followed before, and if I have to stay in one area …”

“Deal with whoever challenges you.” Jones said. “If you can’t manage that then I’ll be rid of your weakness that way.”

Ever since I’d been cursed, it had been the world hunting down Jones and me – mostly trying to use me as a way to foil Jones. Now Jones was making it very clear I was on my own.

It was me against the world.

“Don’t disappoint me a third time …” Jones warned as I felt his presence leave.

Suddenly the door to my cabin crashed open. Burdette entered with a cry of success, apparently having spent some time and effort in the attempt. His cry strangled off as he saw me on the floor and he recoiled, swearing.

“What is it?” I rasped, my throat still raw from screaming. “Report!”

Burdette straightened and closed the door again – to the dismayed shouts of others – but his eyes didn’t leave my face. “Sir … it’s been over half an hour since you entered your cabin. We heard … we heard your screams, sir. As soon as you went in it seemed you were screaming, and you hardly stopped! We tried to break the door down, but it was impenetrable! Bosun Willy and Abner said it was like all the wood of your cabin had turned to mithril. We tried, sir, we did!”

Why was Burdette so afraid? He’d been deferential towards me – intimidated, perhaps – but never frightened. Not like this. “What’s going on, Mr. Burdette?”

He seemed to understand my question, and gestured to the small mirror in the cabin. I looked, and froze.

Whereas I’d been proud of my appearance before, now I looked ghastly. My skin looked gray and stretched over my face like it was pulled tight around a skeleton. My beard that I’d been so proud of growing now looked like it clung to my face as though I’d been entombed with it in a watery grave for centuries. Rather than improve my appearance, my fine clothes seemed to be dragged down in quality as they hung on me, fitting me as well as a suit fit a shark.

I pulled off my coat and stripped to my waist. The scars I’d gotten from the lightning had been fading, but now they looked like ugly purple worms crawling under my skin. The mess of scars on my back from lashes looked even worse.

I was hideous to my own eyes. Cadaverous.

*Note: you are suffering from attribute imbalance. Imbalanced attributes are suffering a severe handicap.

I’d thought my modest charisma attribute had helped me dodge the consequences of Jones assignment, so Jones had stripped me of charisma until I was imbalanced to prove me wrong. It was worse than if I’d just had a low charisma with low total attributes. I was magically affected.

I couldn’t level up and place the attributes in charisma. And because of the imbalance effects it would be impossible to naturally regain charisma, especially at its ‘higher than average’ level. No one would ever look at me with sympathy and kindness.

No one would ever want me beside them.

Jones had deliberately isolated me! I didn’t doubt for a moment that he hadn’t had a hand in shaping my new look himself. He wanted me to play the role he’d assigned me.

And I felt his orders embedded in my psyche. I no longer had any choice in the matter. I’d lost my freedom. I was going to be his automaton, and people were going to die because of it.

“Captain,” Burdette said, hesitant to interrupt. “There remains the matter … well, the crew wants to know if you’re going to keep your promise to release them.”

“Them?” I said. “Not ‘us’? You don’t intend to leave?”

Burdette was clearly vacillating. “Not everyone is set on leaving, but they will all want to know if you will keep your word.”

“So much as it depends on me,” I said. Pushing myself away from the mirror, I dressed again. “Have the crew muster. I’ll be out shortly.” Burdette left, and I heard the murmur of voices.

Before I went out to the crew, I looked at my charts. I needed to go to the Broken Isles. I felt that I truly couldn’t sail in the opposite way, but I wasn’t stuck heading for a specific point. The isles were broad. I thought I could make a detour on the way, as long as it was along my path of travel.

As it happened, there was a port I could make it to. One I was very familiar with and which I knew would have the answers to the questions I believed would arise.

When I stepped out, the crew hushed. There was shock among some faces, but apparently Burdette had warned them my appearance was much worse. I made my way to the center of the gathering and raised my tired voice.

“It would seem,” I began. “That Davy Jones was less than thrilled at the nonviolent manner we completed the mission in.” People shifted, but no one dared even mutter under their breath. “I have been punished in more ways than one. But my promise to you holds: if you wish to leave, I will hold your service fulfilled.” I hesitated. “Can I see who that is?”

While I knew to expect it, my heart broke a bit to see so many hands go up.

“Very well. Now … now for the truth of the matter. I will do what I can, but I’ve yet to release someone from a curse. I … what I mean is I’ll try …”

I could see that I’d lost them. They felt betrayed, lied to. If it was possible to lose skill levels I’d be back at leadership 1 right now.

The only way I could redeem myself was for this to work. I pointed at the nearest person – Willy, the bosun – and motioned for him to step forward. Then I went into my crew list and dismissed him. At least, I tried to. There wasn’t a function for what I wanted to do. If there was, I didn’t know it. I stepped forward and put my hand on Willy’s head. “I release you from your curse!” I said. Willy’s eyes widened, but nothing happened. He was still my man. I put my hand over his heart and tried again. Nothing. Frustrated, I tried dismissing everyone, the entire crew.

Nothing.

I cursed loudly. Before the crew had the chance to raise their anger towards me, I shouted orders. “Mr. Burdette! Prepare to sail! I have one last option to try.”

“Where to, Captain?”

“Pristav,” I said. “In Antarus. There’s a man I know there who I believe will have answers.” It was a day for reminiscing. I was going home.

Diverting from our course for the Broken Isles, we pulled into the port of Pristav under the waves. It had been three days since our encounter with the Essential.

Knowing the town, I gave various crewmembers assignments to be completed. The high-leveled ones – who had less chance of having their hidden stats exposed with their curse – I gave the coin from the ship’s coffers and some from my own wallet to pick up a list of whatever they could manage. The ship and crew could be magically self-sufficient for the right XP price, but I couldn’t invest any XP in the ship on Jones’ order. We needed supplies.

Burdette I sent to the bank with a check to try and withdraw my savings that I’d stashed there. I didn’t know how much money I had, but it should be a few gold.

And lastly, one man I sent to the library with a note I’d penned myself. All of those arrangements were done before the sun set. Now I stood on the dock under a moonless night, waiting to see if my appeal would be heard or if I’d face a trap.

My perception picked up movement from the shadows. A man was there – not particularly stealthy, but outside of my reach. I glanced at my land timer, antsy though I had hours to kill.

The man waited several minutes, taking his time with his considerations. He no doubt expected a trap too. Either he satisfied himself there wasn’t one, or his curiosity got the better of him. The man approached with a sure step to where I could recognize him.

“Administrator,” I said, with slight bow to my head.

The library administrator had helped me research professions before I’d joined the Wind Runner. Now I was here with one that neither of us had anticipated.

“Fascinating,” the administrator said. “The fact you are cursed is clearly displayed on your stats, but the details of it are beyond even my ken. It’s been years since I encountered anything I couldn’t decipher.”

I shook my head and couldn’t help a rueful chuckle. “Of course you saw right through my protection. Would you mind telling me how well you’d rate it?”

“Oh, I’d say your protection ability would be good against a perception value of between 25-30, depending on what the person can observe about you.”

“Come again?”

The administrator smiled. “You know that the more you know about someone, the easier they are to analyze?” I nodded. “Well here’s a bit of free advice: the analyze skill is tied to the observation skill. To level them up you need to employ both, and the more you can notice about someone the better your chances of successfully analyzing them.”

And of course this man had the analytical abilities to see my very soul, no doubt. I wonder if he could tell me if I still had one …

“You received my note?” I asked. It was rhetorical, since the man wouldn’t be out on the docks at this hour otherwise.

“Naturally. I must say I was skeptical, though intrigued. You certainly followed through on your end though!” He shook his head and made no effort to hide his frank appraisal of my body. “Captain of the Deep! Was it conjoined with the curse or were the events sequential?”

“The curse came first. After that I was given a choice of professions.”

“A choice?” The administrator said sharply. “What were the others?”

I shook my head. “I’ll willingly tell you what I can, but there are some things that you’ll have to trade for and some that would draw too much ire.”

“Hmm, and you’ve done something to draw ire recently?”

My smile was strained. “Something like that.”

“Very well,” the man said, clasping his hands behind his back. “I came prepared to barter knowledge. What would you request?”

“Your knowledge of curses.” I said. “Specifically, how they can be removed.” As soon as I said the words, my heart started burning and I found it difficult to draw breath. What was … oh no!

“Not my curse!” I said. “Don’t tell me anything about how to remove my own curse from Davy Jones!”

The pain eased, and I caught my breath with a shudder. Part of my curse was that I could not undermine Davy Jones. Apparently learning how to free myself from his control would undermine him, and that wasn’t going to fly.

The administrator simply looked on, stroking his chin, “Interesting.”

“Yes, yes. Very interesting. What I’m interested in is how I can release my own crew.”

“Curses are very individualized. The difficulty of removing them is often linked to the level of commitment, the difficulty of placing the curse, and the willingness of the one who placed the curse to release it. For example,” he said. “If a hypothetical leader used a professional ability to place a curse, the effect would have only a moderate strength though it would be quite thorough because it was done with a skill and not a ritual or verbal curse. However, if that leader did something like take his victim’s heart,” the administrator gave me a significant look. “Then the curse would be very strong and difficult to break.”

I swallowed, waiting to see if the administrator had done me in by obliquely giving me information on myself. However, whether because it was vague or because I hadn’t asked for it, no consequences come on me.

“I have not required my crew to do anything like that.”

The man nodded, satisfied. “Then between that and your willingness to release them, it’s quite possible to do.”

“But how?”

The administrator shook his head. “I’m sorry, but that is not my field of expertise. And … to be frank, anyone I know who might have the answers you seek has been scooped up.”

“What?”

“People started researching ways to deal with Davy Jones when he went on his last crusade against the human empire. It was well known that he utilizes curses with his magic, so when news went out about a new lieutenant,” the administrator gestured at me. “Every specialist was called in to develop new ways of countering them. They wouldn’t help you unless they thought you’d turn against your master, and …” he trailed off. We’d already had an object lesson in the impossibility of that.

“Then … I’m sorry to have wasted your time.” I turned to go.

“Before you depart,” the administrator said hastily. “There are things I believe of interest to you that would be worth sharing secrets with me.”

“Like what?”

“Tell me the name of the other professions you were offered and I’ll give you one.”

I told him the other options and their descriptions. Unfortunately he had never heard of either so he couldn’t tell me how to help Rhistel get Menagerie Master. It was unfortunate for me, anyway. He looked very satisfied to have discovered two new professions to investigate.

“Three days ago you encountered the whaling ship Essential, yes?”

My senses instantly flared to alertness, but the administrator lifted his hands in a placating gesture. “Easy there …”

“How did you know?” The Essential shouldn’t have been able to make port yet!

“One of the wind mages aboard the ship had a spell that let him communicate with the mainland. Information about your activities started circulating minutes after you’d departed the whaling ship. Within a day your name had been passed to every city official, and as I understand it will be shared across the confederation. People are learning who Domenic Seaborn is.”

I reeled. I’d known when I let the Essential go that I was giving away my identity, but to have it happen so fast! And that meant the administrator knew exactly who I was when he received my note …

“I can see your suspicion, and I can put your mind at ease.” The administrator said. “I have dealt with you in good faith. No one else has been informed of our meeting.”

“But you’ll share everything I’ve told you with the monarchy.”

“Naturally. Didn’t you expect that when you offered to trade information?”

I suppose I did. “You said something about a confederation?”

The man looked at me strangely, crossed his arms with one hand stroking his chin while he rocked back and forth on his feet. “May I ask … when was the last time you made port?”

I figured my last ports of call were already known by those hunting me, so I didn’t see any reason not to spill that. “Dagat. Tulisang before that.”

“Oh, my …”

“What?”

“It’s just that I only now realized how uninformed you must be. You see, Andros and Nilfheim were at war and the escort you participated in prior to your capture bound Oorkom and Andros together in that war. Nilfheim responded. They formed the ‘non-human alliance’ with Circe, Zakera, Desolas, Bandarn, and Ellessar. Carr tried to stay out of it but was invaded by Andros and Makam, and are now the zone of heated battle between the Chortin and whatever allies have sent them and the eastern empirical troops. The northern dwarf hold of Hrundar is the only local non-human entity to have remained neutral.”

“I had heard something of that, yes.” At least, I’d heard of the first few countries going at it.

“It didn’t stop there. Andros and Oorkom realized they had no chance against such an alliance and reached out to Drua, Andros, the Broken Isles, and Makam. They formed the human confederation, though it is much more loosely bound than the alliance as it is clear Makam wishes to control everything.”

“They marched on Tulisang.”

“You were there for that?”

“I was nearly caught there.”

“Interesting. As it stands the confederation maintains control over the Passive Ocean, but the Atlas is closed and the Median is hotly contested. The war is strangely reminiscent of the same lines drawn during the last empires campaigns. It is the Northwest against the Southeast, essentially.”

“Navies are trying to bulk up?”

“Of course. Antarus has always had the largest standing fleet and has no intention of allowing even our allies to match us.”

“Well, that’s all very interesting. I haven’t heard much news and appreciate the update.”

“I’m telling you this so you have some background for questions I hope you’ll answer. Have you heard of the Blessing of the Son?”

I did. The strange blessing had appeared when my mother had asked me for my blessing in her new marriage. I’d deliberately avoided sending any of my crew to check on her, what had happened?

“I can see by your reaction you have. With this war getting underway along historical battle lines, the confederacy knew that control of the sea was necessary to bypass old fortresses. Then, it appears that Davy Jones is making himself known to the world once again, and is training an apprentice. Stopping you early became a priority.

“As soon as your identity was exposed by the Essential, investigators found that you had a mother in the employ of the local nobility. A sheriff was sent to arrest her, but the strangest thing happened! The sheriff had a nice cup of tea with the lady and went back to report all was well. His confused supervisors demanded an explanation, threw the poor man in the stocks and sent more people to arrest her. They also returned empty handed.

“A mage was brought in and identified a unique blessing on the woman. I was called to consult, and found that it was indeed a unique form of protection. By inviting the woman to accompany us and answer questions the authorities got what they were looking for – but any intent of harm prompted a type of charm. Only those with magical protection could avoid it. Your mother is fine by the way – a charming if simple woman – and the authorities got everything they thought they needed without any unpleasantries.”

“You want to know if I gave her the blessing.”

“Yes, though we deduced that much, the questions of when you gave it and the circumstances surrounding it are of greater interest to me.”

I told the administrator. It was before my curse, so I had nothing to hide. Besides, if she was being treated fairly what more could I want?

I certainly wasn’t going to look after her myself. I never had. At least she had a husband to do that for her now.

The administrator asked several more follow up questions about the blessing, which I answered as best I could. This was the type of thing that interested him, so I’d give him what he wanted. He’d been generous enough sharing news of the world.

“One more question, on a different note, if you don’t mind.”

“Ask, and we’ll see about an answer.”

“Your stats. I won’t claim to remember every person I’ve ever assisted, but I spent some time recalling our encounter the last few days and frankly it doesn’t add up. Your charisma score is the same. All your other attributes have advanced quite far for your level. Why did you imbalance yourself?”

“I didn’t,” I growled. “That’s a very recent occurrence. Jones hasn’t been a fan of my pacifist attitude.”

“He stripped you of attributes?”

I nodded.

“I’m sorry lad. Can you tell me more about your pacifism and interactions with Jones?”

I didn’t need the warnings in my chest to know that wasn’t a good idea. “No. Deduce what you will.”

“The royal court has been trying to do that. Tales from the Essential encounter have been contradictory as to whether you were a tyrannical menace or unwilling participant.”

I hung my head. “In the coming weeks there won’t be a difference. One last question, if I may.”

“By all means,” the administrator said. I’d initially proposed an exchange of information, but he seems to have been amenable to a less structured conversation rather than a one-for-one secret exchange.

“Tell me about the history of Davy Jones. Not the stories that get told and changed in every port – the real history. I’m sure you know it.”

“A few months ago I wouldn’t have, but it’s a popular topic these days among the academic community. This won’t cause any … adverse reactions with you?”

“I’m looking for a history lesson,” I said. “Not a magical spell to set me free.”

“Very well. I’ll preface it by saying that accurate details have either been lost or called into question, but that this is the prevailing theory regarding his origins.” At my nod he continued. “We don’t know if Davy Jones ever had any other name, but it has been verified to be as it now stands. There are records of a merchant captain by the name of Jones in a coastal nation a long time ago. That merchant fell on hard times and began outsourcing his ship to hunt sea monsters. He gained a measure of notoriety for his success. We believe this man to be the same Davy Jones.

“This was just prior to the rise of Ma’ata Kamris, commonly known as the third human empire. Davy Jones’ nation was assimilated peacefully, as far as we can tell – though Ma’ata Kamris tended to invade if their offers were rejected, so there might have been political turmoil we simply don’t know about.

“Jones received a sponsorship from the emperor and commanded several ships. When Ma’ata Kamris began forcing its way into the naval theater to expand its territories, Jones and his ships were brought into their navy. This,” the administrator said, emphasizing the point. “Is where the origins of Davy Jones become murky. Some say that Jones caught a taste for blood and began to run rampant, killing indiscriminately and consorting with the sea monsters he used to hunt.

“Other stories say that he performed his duties for a limited time, before refusing to continue his command. Ma’ata Kamris leveraged his family and demanded he continue, which he did until they died of illness. Then Jones snapped and went on his now-famous rampage across the seas. The utter destruction he wrecked upon the human fleet and port cities crippled the empires efforts, and as luck would have it pressured the pre-existing fissures among the empire. Naval interests were stopped cold, and landside conquests were stalled as troops were redistributed internally. The empire did not survive long enough to attempt to reclaim the seas, eventually fracturing into the nations we have today – including Makam, which stylizes itself as the fourth human empire reborn.

“Davy Jones fully entered the realm of myth at this point. He became known for making deals with ships and sailors for various things – from their souls to a fine rum. Gradually these tales reflect less human interests and more of something resembling even older myths of the Ferryman – someone who guided the souls of the lost to their resting place. Only in Jones case, the myth was that he claimed the souls for himself, to crew his ship the Perdition.”

I sucked my cheek as I nodded, thinking it through. It wasn’t the origin story that got passed around, and it sounded plain enough to have been true. My own “origin story” was more fantastic. “That doesn’t explain anything about the efforts to fight him or the studies people started on his curses.”

“Those were picked up and dropped throughout time, but are an altogether different topic. Sharing them might be … risky for us both.”

Ah, the man wasn’t just concerned about saying something that would send me into convulsions. He had his own geas against spilling too many state secrets. That made me wonder …

“There’s a quest for my head given by every nation with a port on the inner oceans. Why did you agree to help me?”

“You’d rather I didn’t?”

“You know I value your help. I just don’t know what you get out of it. Surely some information about my history isn’t worth the assistance you’ve given me?”

“To a military mindset, no. But what I’ve learned from our conversation progresses the academic community – and thereby the military one – in no small way. Understanding is key.”

I nodded, willing to accept that as his answer, but he continued.

“There’s also many ways to interpret questlines. For example, there’s a duke who openly suggested using you to stop Jones, and the way he posed the suggestion generated a sub-quest, one to do exactly what he said. Contradictory quests are not a new thing, and monarchs must decide which they want to promote in order to progress their own ends.”

“I don’t suppose that one is gaining any traction in court?”

“Not much, though it hasn’t died. The duke is sponsoring a small group of adventurers to meet that goal. On that note, I should mention that the confederacy has negotiated a reward for your death with the adventurers’ guild on top of the quest rewards. Adventurers are less organized than the navies, but there are many taking up the effort.”

“I’ll keep that in mind. And for the tip, I’ll share that I have several personal quests myself. While not quite contradictory, they pursue different ends.”

I told him about my 3 main questlines related to my future options. It wasn’t just out of gratitude for his helpfulness – I wanted more people to hear about the choices I’d been given. Maybe they’d judge me less harshly when I started sinking ships.

Maybe some of those mercenaries would jump on the ‘don’t kill the lieutenant out of hand’ quest that duke was propagating. Less enemies in the world would be nice …

It seemed that I’d gotten all I could, and thanked the man and turned to go. My foot was about to step off the pier when the administrator stopped me.

“Wait!” I lingered, but didn’t return to chat. “The answers you were looking for – about releasing your curses – there might be a group that can help you.”

“Who? How?”

“There’s a sect that specializes in studying and purifying all types of curses. I don’t know that they’d be able to do anything for you, but they might be able to teach you what you need to do.”

“Where are they?”

“That’s the catch – this sect is made up of the Madu. Their headquarters is in Nilfheim.”

My throat tightened. Nilfheim. I’d told Arnnaith when we spoke of releasing people at their chosen destination that Nilfheim was the only place I considered off limits. The Madu were the reason the Wind Runner was attacked by Jack and the Raven. Because of the Madu’s reaction to Jack’s failure, I’d been sent to the bottom of Lazlo’s Deep where my only option at life was by chaining myself to Davy Jones.

If there was a people on this world I hated, it was the Madu. It didn’t matter that I couldn’t sail to Nilfheim on my way to the Broken Isles, I refused to.

Quest Updated: Reluctant Slaver

New Title gained: Slaver

I swore under my breath and left the confused administrator standing on the pier.