(I will be taking part in an online panel on r/Fantasy on the 23rd of April! Find out more here!)

As was his wont, Niers Astoragon was taking private time for himself, rather than moving from city to city to conduct surprise inspections, or managing his company, teaching his students, or the thousand and one things he liked to do to keep himself occupied.

In fact—free time was something he was notoriously averse to. But of late, he’d been regularly scheduling break-time in which anyone interrupting him was immediately attacked—usually with a thrown pencil or the nearest object at hand.

Of course, those close to him knew the Fraerling’s good mood was because his Go board had arrived. And his opponent and the world’s most famous [Strategist] now regularly played—and communicated.

It was their thing. And the Titan was in a good mood. For a while. But he liked to be too complex for any one singular emotion at a time. And the game with his opponent aside—he was a bit perturbed.

“Peclir. Where’s the files on…Talenqual?”

The Fraerling was exasperatedly sorting through the notes in one of his miniature file cabinets as the [Chamberlain] walked in to serve Niers a cup of tea.

Not, in fact, a Titan-sized cup which was in fact a tiny cup made for Fraerlings, but a regular, Human-sized cup of tea. Niers could eat and drink his body weight as could all Fraerlings due to their unnatural and magical constitutions. However…it was still a lot of caffeine.

“Bottom drawer, third cabinet from the left, sir. If you haven’t changed your filing system.”

“Ah. Thanks.”

The Titan grunted as he yanked open a drawer. He rifled through the files and pulled one out. Then he glanced up.

“Put the cup there, Peclir. Thanks.”

“Trouble, sir?”

“Just your usual annoyances. The Flying Brigade, eh?”

Niers busied himself with his reports until Peclir had put down the tea and left. Only then did the Titan check to make sure the door was closed, sweep the room twice with one of his numerous seeing spells for any observers, magical or otherwise. And after that he still murmured to himself in a low tone of voice.

He trusted Peclir; the man was an essential part of the headquarters of the Forgotten Wing company. However—Niers hadn’t confided this with Foliana yet. It was too close. Too…vast.

And yet—she hadn’t arrived.

Niers Astoragon sighed. Peclir himself had made the arrangements, through Venaz, at Niers’ request. It had been just a whim, born of Daquin and a chance encounter with a City Runner—well, a [Rower] named Luan.

“Send the Last Light of Baleros here. How hard could it be?”

Niers flipped through the reports, organized by date. He frowned.

“Something must have prevented her from making the scheduled meeting.”

He’d kept tabs, as he did with the guest speakers or visitors to his academy. He liked to bring in any number of people, from [Veterans] who could share their experiences on the front lines to active-duty [Commanders] to [Mages], and so on. After all, his students would become the best in the world and Niers Astoragon intended them to learn from a variety of sources, including himself.

Ordinarily, the famed [Doctor] and member of the United Nations company, Geneva Scala, would have arrived to lecture or demonstrate her abilities, as Peclir had arranged. There was even a travel expense and fee for her presentation, obviously. But she’d cancelled at the last minute, refunded the fee. The question was: why?

Niers Astoragon was all too aware of his position. If he demanded it, an entire army could march on Talenqual at a moment’s notice, sack the entire city if he needed to, and take the [Doctor]. All on a hunch. All on a supposition that her company was made of…

But he wouldn’t do that. For one thing, Niers Astoragon believed in things like not killing innocent people if you could help it. Secondly, any move he made was watched by the other three Great Companies of Baleros and any number of his enemies. He had to be stealthy in how he met Geneva. A month’s lead, or a few weeks? It could mean everything.

And yet, and yet. Why wasn’t she here? Niers consulted his reports. There were clues in the meticulous details his [Informants] and [Spymasters] sent to him. And here—

“Ah.”

The Last Light of Baleros is treating victims of Yellow Rivers.

Just a line in one of the latest reports. As well as figures. Treating victims. Niers read it, and then began to cross-reference the data with other reports in other folders.

By the time the door to his study swung open and an invisible Squirrelwoman hopped in, Niers Astoragon was swearing. He didn’t even bother trying to locate the invisible [Rogue].

“Close the door, Foliana. We have a problem.”

“Something wrong?”

“You could say that. We might have a plague on our hands.”

Niers threw down the reports. How had no one noticed? Brothels across every major city. Foliana reappeared as she perched in a chair by the table.

“How do you know?”

“There are cases of this disease. Yellow Rivers, it’s being called. Something incredibly nasty spreading through brothels and armies. I didn’t take much heed and most people haven’t. It’s like any number of regular illnesses. But look. Talenqual, top of the page.”

Foliana read the latest report.

“The Last Light of Baleros—Geneva Scala, United Nations company—treating Yellow Rivers disease in two children. Different symptoms, but similar. Ew.”

“Not what you think. Unless I’m mistaken, they did not get it normally. If they did, you can add some people to your list. But I think this sickness has multiple ways of being contracted. And if so…”

Niers paused. That explained a lot. And he began to worry. The [Strategist] paced back and forth.

“The Yellow Rivers disease? Let’s hope it’s not a magical plague. Like the Sporepits Plague. Millions died.”

There was a difference in plague vs…plague. You could take down a normal illness with some Skills, for instance. [Healers] were good at fighting infection depending on their level. But magical plagues? They could wipe the world clean.

“I need to investigate.”

“This [Doctor]? Why? Give her more money, mm. If you’re worried.”

Foliana glanced at Niers. He hesitated.

“It’s deeper than that, Foliana. Don’t pry. For now. But this means my plans have changed. Damn. I need…an agent. Or two. Happily, the students are on summer classes. Hm.”

He scratched at his beard. Foliana watched him.

Many of his students had left. For their homes, to visit their families, for a vacation from the grind that was class at his academy. And a small group had gone…to sea.

“Huh. Wil would have been my first pick. Or Yerra, or Feshi, honestly. Umina and Marian I know, but—well, Umina’s troublesome for a number of reasons of late. And Marian is surprisingly weak at improvisation in the ways I’d need.”

Niers mused to himself. Foliana tilted her head left and right.

“Do you regret sending them on the treasure hunt?”

The Titan looked up.

“Those six? Never. It will be good for them. It’s just inconvenient for me at this moment.”

He meant Venaz, Wil, Feshi, Yerranola, Merrik, and Peki. Niers hadn’t chosen the group, but he had given Wil the map. And now?

They were at sea. Hunting for sunken wrecks. Having an adventure. The one Wil Kallinad had always dreamed of.

An adventure. Foliana and Niers glanced at each other. And the old leaders remembered their youth as adventurers. Foliana sipped from Niers’ tea cup.

“It will be dangerous. They might die.”

“That’s my tea, you overgrown tree rat!”

Niers swore. But he nodded as Foliana put down the cup. He stomped over to it and looked around for the long straw he used. Or the mini-cup he could scoop his drink out of.

“True. It’s dangerous. But the seas have their own rules. More importantly—it will be good for them. All of them could use the experience. They’re all…incomplete as students. You know?”

“No. You must be a bad teacher. Mhm.”

Niers ignored Foliana. He counted on his fingers.

“Each of them has weaknesses. Venaz is astoundingly competent in every area, as befits a [Strategist] who has seen combat. The Isles of Minos sent their best. But he’s as pig-headed as Marian; arrogance does run in the blood of both species. He needs to learn when to run. Wil’s far better than thinks he is, but he’s hesitant to be bold. And when he does? Pig-headed, again. He’ll burn himself fighting, like he did against Tulm rather than go crafty.”

“Isn’t it bull-headed?”

“Don’t interrupt me, Foliana. I know which animal I mean. Yerranola and Feshi are good at craft, but they suffer from relying on cunning over trusting their ability to win a death match. Come to that—they haven’t had that experience yet. Merrik and Peki? Fine commanders, if you give them orders. But they need to open their heads.”

“I could do it with a knife. So does this adventure make them better? Fix their problems?”

Foliana was being classically unhelpful. Niers sighed.

“That’s not the point. None of these things are problems. Each of them would make a fine [Strategist] in their own way. You don’t need to patch every hole in your style. It’s just—what they lack isn’t one singular flaw. It’s this.”

He walked over and poked at Foliana’s arm. A grey patch of fur. She shooed him away.

“Rude.”

Niers laughed as he stroked his own white and grey beard. Mostly turning to grey, or white. How time caught up with you. He looked at Foliana.

“They don’t need any one thing, Foliana. What they need is…the adventure. They’re young. They have to experience…everything.”

She paused. And her eyes flickered. Now, Foliana understood. And she nodded.

“But they could die.”

“Yes. Or find no treasure at all. But that’s what an adventure is. I hope they all come back safely. And with treasure. But that’s an adventure. And the seas?”

Niers leaned on the lip of the cup. He stared out the window, at the sky. And he smiled.

“Let the young have their adventure, Foliana. We have work to do.”

“You mean you. I’m on holiday.”

And far from where the two were sitting, as Niers threw his tea at Foliana, far from even the continent of Baleros, on the vast seas, a younger [Strategist] named Wil Kallinad looked at those same skies. And he sighed too.

Because adventure wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.

—-

The 6th Location

It turned out that the sea was boring. Crossing it, that was. By and large, it got boring.

That was what Wil Kallinad hadn’t known. Well, he’d known it, having crossed the sea once, but he’d assumed it would be different for…an adventure. And this was what it was, right?

An adventure. The high seas, the wind in your hair, searching for the sunken shipwrecks of old. For treasure, from perhaps thousands of years past. Fighting monsters, evading [Pirates]—

It had been two, two and a half weeks at sea. And Wil Kallinad looked up from the diary he was keeping. He didn’t have much to write.

“Water. Water. Water. Water. Waaaaaater. Water. Water. Water? Water. Water…”

Someone was saying the word over and over again in the background. Just to be fun, she varied how she said the word ‘water’ every few times. That meant you couldn’t quite tune her voice out.

“Dead gods, I swear I will drown you in this drink, Peki. Shut up!”

Another, deeper voice swore from the left. Wil saw a Dwarf, short, stout, with huge arms and a frame that made him stronger than most Human men sit up at the table. The voice stopped for a second and then came back.

“Make me.”

The speaker was a Garuda. Her feathers were predominantly green, but mixed with yellow and red. She was a splash of color in the cabin’s interior. And the small room she and Wil and Merrik were sitting in.

With a sigh, Wil closed his diary. Mainly to stop the fight he knew was about to break out. Merrik reached under his bunk.

“Oh yeah? Oh yeah? Try it, you overgrown parrot. Hold on, where’s my hammer? Hold on, I said!”

The five-foot tall Dwarf tried to fend Peki off as she leapt off the bunk she’d been sitting on. It was Wil’s bunk; he and Venaz were sharing a room. Merrik and Peki had invaded his because they were bored. Now, the Garuda [Martial Artist] and [Commander] danced forwards, and punched Merrik in the head.

“Ow! Stop it! I need my axe! And my armor!”

“Fighting doesn’t wait for clothes. Make me stop. Make me.”

“Peki—please stop punching Merrik.”

The Garuda obligingly put the Dwarf in a headlock. Merrik swore as he grabbed at her arms, but light as Peki was—she was an expert in unarmed combat. He couldn’t break free, or use his own considerable strength.

“Headlocks too, Peki. Please stop fighting.”

The Garuda let go of Merrik with a sigh. The Dwarf gasped for air. Red-faced, he glared at the Garuda.

“If I had my hammer or my armor on—”

“I’d hit you on the head. Easy.”

“You were strangling me. I have [Body of Stone]! Try punching me and see how that goes! I dare you!”

Peki raised a fist. Merrik held up his hands.

“Not without my helmet! I don’t want a concussion again! I’m just saying that if I had my helmet—”

“I’d still win.”

Wil sighed. The two were in his cabin because they had been getting on each other’s nerves and wanted company. But he didn’t exactly want their company. Still—there was a limited amount of space on deck.

It had been nearly three weeks. Three weeks of…inaction. A storm had been the most excitement they’d had. The [Strategists] had been prepared for calamity and shipwreck, monsters and trouble.

They had not been prepared for boredom. And in the confines of this tiny vessel…it was getting to them.

“Why don’t we go upstairs? The fresh air will do us all some good. We’re nearly at the next location, anyways.”

Wil hopefully suggested. Peki and Merrik looked at him. Their faces indicated what they thought of that suggestion, but they grudgingly acquiesced.

“Ah, glorious daylight. How I’ve not missed you.”

Merrik announced as they trooped upstairs. Technically, the term was on deck, but none of the [Strategists] were sailors. And using the lingo felt silly at times.

“Where’s Venaz? Feshi? Yerra?”

Wil looked for the other three [Strategists] who were his companions for the voyage. The ship was far from empty of course; it was a galleon, large, with a vast crew of over three hundred hands. They were on deck, adjusting the sails, calling out to each other, performing different tasks—but the three [Strategists] were passengers. Apart, aloof, separate from the [Sailors].

“Over there.”

Peki fluttered up, towards the front of the ship. The Garuda’s ability to casually fly always struck Wil with envy when he saw it. But today at least, Peki didn’t seem to feel like swooping around. She did fly each day, and practice her exercises, but even the [Martial Artist] seemed to get bored of training.

She was pointing to a group at the front, or prow of the ship. Peki flew ahead of Merrik and Wil as the [Sailors] navigated around them. They were both used to the sway of the ship, but neither could move as nimbly as the [Storm Sailors].

[Storm Sailors], the regulars of the sea. This was a ship led by a [Storm Captain], and crewed by [Storm Sailors]. Such ships were considered better than most trade ships, because while they were common, you had to earn the [Storm Sailor] class and its counterpart as a [Captain].

They weren’t always honorable ships either. Sometimes, they were. But a [Storm Captain] could turn to piracy if need be. The sea was a different place than on land. There were few [Knights] who fought at sea. And the sea…

The sea was boring. Honestly. It was. Wil stared at the relatively flat landscape of green and blue as he walked with Merrik grumbling about arrogant Garuda. It was a matter of perspective, he supposed.

The sea contained [Pirates]. Monsters. Treasure. Adventure, and drama and romance and everything in between, just like land. The problem was that there was a substantially larger amount of sea than land. And the continents were vast.

But the sea was vaster. And when all you experienced of it was the top portion (which was the least notable part of the sea, which extended miles into the dark waters below), you tended to get a lot of uniformity.

And it wasn’t as if Wil or Merrik could walk off the ship and go for a nice stroll on the waves. Neither of them had Waterwalking Boots, and even Peki couldn’t fly far. Besides, what was there to do?

Well—one thing you could do was bring entertainment. And at this moment, three [Strategists] were playing chess at a table set up near the front of the boat.

Venaz was playing Feshi, and Yerranola spectating. It was a game of chess. A tradition among Niers Astoragon’s students. Only—there wasn’t so much rapt attention and competitiveness among the two players so much as…vague disinterest.

“Check.”

The Minotaur, Venaz, spoke curtly as Peki flew over towards them. Feshi moved a piece out of the way. Venaz moved a piece.

“Check. Again.”

Feshi moved her king. Venaz moved his piece a third time.

“Checkmate.”

“You win.”

The female Gnoll pushed over her king with a sigh. Venaz stared at the board. He didn’t gloat, or point out her mistakes as he had the first hundred times they’d played on the ship. This time he just sighed.

“Yes. Another match? Oh look, there’s Wil.”

“Yaaaaay.”

Yerranola slid down in her seat. The Selphid was wearing a female Human’s body for the trip; she’d brought a few bodies and kept switching them out to keep them ‘fresh’. She stared up at the sky. Wil and Merrik slowly walked over to them, the same…look on their faces. They were getting close to the sixth location. But none of them had any excitement left.

“Ship turning! ‘Ware the boom!”

A voice cracked across the deck. The [Strategists] looked up. Now here was someone with some pep in her voice. A [Storm Sailor] glared across the deck as she shouted at them.

The ship was indeed turning. At the prow, the [Captain], Captain Lasc, was turning the ship, moving the thick ship’s wheel. All well and good. Venaz went back to staring at the chessboard. His right eye was twitching.

They were bored. Venaz sighed as he pushed the chess board back.

“I’m not in the mood to play. Feshi, Yerra?”

“Nope.”

The two chorused as one. Venaz nodded. With care, he put the carved stone pieces into his bag of holding, and the board.

“Maybe we should bring out the scrying orb. Hopefully there’ something interesting on.”

Television had come to this world. But watching it all day still made you go insane. The others were nodding. And the voice cried out again.

“Watch the sea-cursed boom, you idiot bird!”

The others looked up. Peki glanced around. Just in time to see the boom of the ship and sail turn with the galleon. Because…that was what happened when a ship turned.

All the [Storm Sailors] were out of the way. But the inattentive Garuda, who did not voyage on the sea, was directly in the path of the ship’s boom. And it swung into her and smacked her out of the air.

“Peki!”

Yerranola sat up quick. Feshi and Venaz saw the Garuda hit the deck, roll, and spring up. Venaz sat forwards.

“Hah! That was entertaining!”

Peki was unharmed. She’d tried to block the boom, and then, realizing that was impossible, transferred the energy into the roll. She was patting her ruffled feathers down as Wil and Merrik strode over.

“Peki! How many times is that? Eighteen? Watch the boom!”

Merrik needled Peki as the Garuda eyed the offending boom of the ship—which was connected to the sails, which a ship would turn to catch the wind. That was also how ships worked, incidentally. And when a ship turned—or the wind blew hard, the boom moved. By accident, it was called a jibe. Either way—you watched the boom. Everyone seemed to get that but Peki.

“Didn’t hurt.”

The Garuda defiantly flicked her wings out. Merrik rolled his eyes.

“And it still swats you each time! I thought you were a [Martial Artist] from Pomle!”

“Am.”

“Well, you seem to get hit by a ship quite often.”

“I can hit you.”

Peki raised a fist. Merrik raised his and Venaz got up, looking excited. But before another brawl could break out—a [Storm Sailor] strode across the deck.

“Oi, you salt-brained sack of scum! Don’t you learn? Watch the boom!”

She bellowed at Peki, pointing angrily at the piece of the ship. Peki and the other students from the Titan’s academy turned and stared.

They saw a [Storm Sailor] glaring at them. One of many on the ship. They had names. Personalities. Some of them were probably people. But they didn’t make a point of getting to know Wil and his friends. Wil was familiar with the [First Mate], Delivan, and Captain Lasc, but all the others were a blur of ‘don’t touch that’, or ‘captain’s orders’, or ‘you’re in the way’ to him.

This was just another one. Only—she—stood out. She was short, as [Sailors] went. Skin dark, tanned from the sun. Dressed in a [Sailor]’s garb, relatively lightweight and not entangling to avoid issues if you had to swim. Sleeves and leggings rolled up, crusted with salt; you didn’t wash often on a ship, and hopefully didn’t need to.

Well, her legging was rolled up on one leg on her left side. Her right…leg…was harder to roll up on so she’d just cut the cloth away. That helped her octopus-leg stand on the deck.

The [Strategists] stared. The [Storm Sailor] glared at them. She pointed at Peki.

“You got stuffing in your ears?”

She had…two normal arms. One normal leg. A normal, Human face. So she wasn’t your classic Drowned Woman, or one of the Drowned People in general. You could normally tell because half of their bodies were some sort of sea creature’s. Just her leg.

Oh—and when she opened her mouth, Wil saw a beak in her mouth. An interior set of jaws. Like a bird’s jaw, but—different.

A cephalopod’s beak, in fact. An octopus’ beak they used to eat. That was an octopus-fact. It was a second mouth in her mouth.

The [Storm Sailor] didn’t seem to care about the stares. She pointed at Peki.

“Stay out of the way of the boom, you got that, landbird?”

Peki stared at the beak. Then she stared at the [Sailor]. She shrugged, face blank.

“Why? Doesn’t hurt.”

The short [Sailor] looked incredulous. Her right tentacle-leg extended a bit, and she stood tilted slightly left, slightly taller.

“You? Who cares about you? If you hit the damn mainsail, there’ll be hell to pay! I’ve seen you punching the boom as well! You crack the wood, Captain Lasc’ll be eating chicken tonight!”

“Why?”

Peki looked blank. Her classmates stared at her. The [Storm Sailor] stared and her jaw worked as she tried to figure out if Peki was being funny.

“He’ll have you tossed in the ocean! Stop flying about like an idiot!”

That was all she came up with. Then she stomped off. Well—one foot stomped. Wil and the others watched her go.

“Amazing. See how her leg’s moving? It’s not a balanced walk by any means. But the tentacle-leg actually works on a moving deck. Imagine her trying to run. On land.”

Venaz whispered a bit too loudly. The others looked at him. Wil slowly sat down, boredom forgotten for a moment.

“I’ve never seen anyone like that. She’s not fully Drowned Person, is she?”

“Nope. And [Storm Sailors] don’t like to crew with them. Rivalry on the sea. We have to ask about it. Hey. Hey, you.”

Merrik instantly waved at the nearest [Sailor] passing by. The man grunted; he was swabbing the deck. People actually had to do that. It was to keep it from allowing moss or mold to grow, and to keep the planks wet and thus swelled with water to prevent leaks.

More ship-facts. The [Sailor] grunted, but he leaned on his mop as he came over.

“What?”

His tone wasn’t exactly polite for guests, but he wasn’t spitting on them either. Merrik waved conspiratorially at the part-octopus [Sailor].

“What’s up with her?”

“Merrik. We shouldn’t gossip.”

“What? Why not?”

The Dwarf looked at Wil. The Terandrian [Lord] hesitated, but the [Sailor] turned out to be only too happy to gossip. He looked around conspiratorially.

“Her? The one that just yelled at you? Oh, that’s Inky. She’s got a tongue on her almost as bad as that fucking beak.”

The [Strategists] were instantly fascinated. This was the highlight of their day.

“Tell us more. Take a seat.”

“I should be working.”

The man hesitated. But Venaz instantly pulled one of the chairs out.

“We’re chartering this ship. Sit down.”

The Minotaur ordered. The [Sailor] weighed this, glanced about, and sat.

“Whaddya want to know?”

“Everything. What’s with the beak, the leg—”

“Does she have any more octopus parts? That is octopus, right? Not squid?”

Yerranola was as fascinated as Merrik and the others. Of course, the Selphid was a body-connoisseur. She looked at people…mainly for their bodies. The man just shrugged.

“You’d have to ask some of her mates.”

“Do you mean mates as in—”

“Merrik. Don’t be disgusting.”

Feshi reached over and poked the Dwarf with her paw, hard. The Dwarf grunted. The [Sailor] however seemed to appreciate the Dwarf’s humor. But Merrik was a friendly sort. Everyone got along with him.

“If we’re all her mates, it’s only a few who’ve seen underneath. And only a few cared to if you get my drift. She’s part-Drowned. Part octopus, aye. You saw the beak and the leg? The rest’s just ink and suckers.”

“Suckers?”

“On her hands. And the soles of her feet, so I hear. She spits ink and makes it everywhere else. That’s the name. She’s not one of ours. Just a crewing member for the trip. But she is a [Storm Sailor], so old Lasc took her on. I’ve seen her twice; she knows the job, but she ain’t ours.”

By ‘ours’, he meant a member of The Emerald Signet. The regulars versus the people they might hire on for the journey. The students nodded.

“You’re not a fan of hers. Why, does she cause trouble?”

The [Sailor] hesitated. Yerranola instantly poured a drink.

“Fancy some rum? Straight from the larder.”

“Don’t mind if I do. Thanks. You lot are alright!”

The [Sailor] downed the shot appreciatively. He wiped his mouth and went on, lowering his voice.

“Nah, she’s good at her job. Wouldn’t be part of the crew otherwise. Helps kick the others into shape. But she’s—you know? Part fish? One of them. Drowned Folk. Only, they wouldn’t take her, so she crews with us air breathers.”

He spat to the side. Wil frowned. It was Feshi who asked the obvious. The Gnoll leaned over. Parts of her fur were dyed with color, but she hadn’t kept it up of late. Feshi Weatherfur cast an eye towards Inky, who was walking over to the mast. She put her hands on the mast and instead of grabbing onto any ladder or handholds, just climbed up the mast.

“Suckers. See? Unnatural. But she’s the daughter of a Drowned Person and a Human. Don’t know the details, don’t care. But she didn’t take the Sea’s Bargain—don’t know if she can, since she’s already part something.”

The [Sailor] explained. His name was Begal. Or his nickname. Sailors were big on nicknames. That was probably his actual name, though. Like Inky, he’d been born to sailor’s families and lived on the sea all his life.

But he was all normal, for all his heritage was mixed through multiple species. He had a bit of Gnoll—even a bit of Drake in his ancestry, way back, which tickled Feshi’s fancy no end. But they didn’t count, as Begal explained.

“On the sea, there’s only Drowned and non-Drowned. And Drathians, if you want to get technical. They’re an odd bunch. But they’re still not Drowned Folk.”

“What’s so wrong with them?”

Begal’s brow darkened.

“They’re at war with us non-seabreathers. You know [Pirates]? Most of ‘em are Drowned Vessels. Sure, lots are [Pirates], but Drowned Vessels’ll sink both [Pirates] and regular ships. They’re a law of their own. A nation without borders under the sea. Well, they claim the entire sea’s theirs. Bastards, most of ‘em. No [Sailor]’ll crew with a Drowned bastard.”

“…And a part-Drowned person?”

Wil was eying Begal’s face and Inky as she kept climbing towards the crow’s nest to relieve whomever was on watch. The man shrugged.

“Well, they were kicked out of the Drowned since they’re not fish enough. Their faces aren’t, you see? Can’t breathe in water. And I suppose the Drowned folk don’t like anyone who’s not taken the Sea’s Bargain of their own will.”

“The what?”

“Sea’s Bargain. It’s when they join with something of the deeps. Become part-fish, part-crab, part-clam—whatever it is. Anyways, Inky can crew since she has the class—dead gods, I’m not a [Storm Sailor] so Lasc’ll use anyone who’s got the class. But she’s not and never will be one of us. You feel me?”

“Yup.”

The other students nodded. Begal nodded. He pushed himself up after a third shot of rum and nodded.

“You students from the Titan are alright, then. Didn’t think you’d be, but you’re not half as bad as the other lot we’ve had onboard. Thanks for the drink.”

He nodded at them and hurried back to his duties before he could catch the eye of any of his superiors. The [Strategists] kept quiet for a few seconds until he was out of earshot, then Yerranola spoke up.

“So how much of that is a [Sailor]’s tales and how much is real, I wonder?”

“What? The man just told us everything there was to know, Yerra.”

Venaz raised his brows. The Selphid glanced back at him. She was frowning, and Wil, sitting to her left, knew Yerranola was vexed. Not quite why, yet, but she explained.

“I hear it’s not like that for Drowned Folk. And they’re hardly the scourge of the seas. Lots are quite peaceful, but it’s [Storm Sailors] and other marauders they fear. And if that’s how they’re treated, no wonder. It’s a wonder Inky crews with this ship if this is how she’s treated, but maybe she doesn’t have a choice. I know the Sea’s Bargain doesn’t work like that.”

She folded her arms. Venaz gave her an incredulous snort. The Minotaur folded his arms and flapped one hand airily. He had…strong opinions which his fellow students were used to. Even so, his superior tone grated at times. Most of the time.

“Yerra, I grew up in the isles of Minos. I know the sea, and that [Sailor] told us nothing I haven’t heard myself from every manner of sea folk. Drowned People are dangerous.”

“Not all of them.”

Yerra’s eyes flashed and she clenched a long-dead hand. Wil eyed her, worriedly.

“Yerra—don’t mind Venaz.”

“I’m just saying—what did Inky do to deserve being talked to like that? The man—Begal—even said she’s a good [Sailor]! What has she done? He didn’t name a thing except that she was part-Drowned! And she was born that way!”

“She yelled at me.”

Peki refused a shot as Merrik poured another round for the students. So did Wil, but Feshi, Venaz, and Yerra all drank up with Merrik. Yerra was glaring at Venaz. Wil was trying to calm her down.

It wasn’t often that Yerranola, as affable as Merrik—perhaps even more so—got angry. It was surprising to Venaz and Feshi, who knew her from class, but Wil, who was close friends with Yerra and recently, Feshi and Venaz, knew his friend. The Selphid was touchy about…outsiders. She herself had experienced enough of what she was seeing or projecting onto Inky.

“Either way, the lesson is to not get hit by the boom. Peki.”

“I’ll dodge it next time. It’s fast. Good training.”

The others rolled their eyes or sighed. But they relaxed, after that brief moment of interest and insight into their monotony. After a few seconds, Venaz produced the scrying orb.

“And now, I believe we have a performance by a high-level [Bard]. Let me get the name. And there’s some to-do about a marriage going off-the-road so to speak, between a…Lord Bein and Lady Hetessana of northern Izril? Am I pronouncing that right? No, wait. Lord Bein and Lady Dealia. Apparently, the [Lord] was allegedly cheating on his fiancé with a Lady Hetessana Wellfar…”

The others groaned as the now-familiar voice of Noass began speaking. Sometimes he would cut to fascinating things like the battle in Jecrass, but the King of Destruction’s armies still had to move and clashes were fast and usually not caught ‘live’ as it were.

And it was a week still before the drama around Lord Bein’s infidelity would come to a head. Wil saw the broadcast cut to a [Bard], who bowed towards the audience and began to declaim.

“Oh tribes. Venaz, turn it off. I cannot handle another Terandrian ballad, no?”

Feshi groaned as she covered her ears. The Minotaur sighed. He slapped the scrying orb into his bag of holding.

“What then? Another game of damn chess? Go? Shogi?”

“No, no, and no. Can’t we get drunk?”

“I’m bored of being drunk.”

Merrik slammed his cup down. The others nodded. Venaz cast about for anything else.

“Swimming then? What about a simulated battle, Wil?”

“We’ll just get left behind the ship again, Venaz. And we always argue about how we run the simulation.”

That was true. The Minotaur flopped back down on deck and stared vacantly into the horizon. His hands moved.

“It’s just—we need—figurines. Like the Professor has. And rules. That would make it easier. Some way of…of deciding arguments, instead of which battalion would win an engagement.”

“Like a board? Sounds like a game.”

“Yes! But…”

The Minotaur trailed off. The others leaned on the table. Bored, bored, bored. None of them looked at Wil, but he sat there. Staring.

After an indeterminate amount of time, someone spoke.

“We’re nearly at the next spot, ladies and gents. Captain Lasc wants to know if any of you’ll be wanting to watch the proceedings?”

Delivan, the First Mate of The Emerald Signet approached the table with the bored students. Wil looked around.

“We’re here?”

The sea…didn’t look too different. Ah—but wait. There was a distant rock. And something like an island in the far distance? It was precisely where Niers had written the shipwreck might be. Wil rose to his feet.

“I’ll go, of course. Captain Lasc has my gratitude.”

“The details were exceedingly precise, Lord Kallinad. Anyone else? If you’ll be wantin’ to dive, we can get some of the suits rigged. Excepting, well…”

The man looked at Merrik, Peki, and Venaz, all three of which wouldn’t fit the diving suits. Wil saw all three wave their hands.

“I don’t think that will be necessary, Delivan. But I will watch. Anyone coming?”

The others looked at each other. Yerranola rose.

“I’ll come, Wil.”

It was mainly friendship that made her speak. The others shook their heads. Slowly, Wil, the [First Mate] and the Selphid walked off.

Alongside one section of the deck there was a bustle. [Sailors] were congregated around a group of [Divers] getting ready to jump into the ocean. Some had suits on—with helmets made of glass and metal. Others? They were practically naked, stripping down, only taking a single glass bottle plus a stone or weight to help them sink. Yet more had an amulet.

[Divers]. Bottles of compressed air. Diving suits. Or just Amulets of Waterbreathing. There were any number of techniques to brave the ocean even if you weren’t a Drowned Person. And The Emerald Signet, which had been hired to help Wil investigate Niers’ list, was specialized in recovering shipwrecks, among other things.

Normally—or rather, at first—the other [Strategists] would have been all over the proceedings, wanting to try to dive or borrow an amulet from the experienced divers. And worrying about monster attacks, speculating over the treasure—asking why most of the [Divers] would have to stop at regular intervals on the way back up to avoid being sick or dying. The bends, a phenomenon unfamiliar to most landlubbers.

And they had been. Especially over the diving bell, the metal container that would be heaved over the edge of the ship and lowered to preserve air and pressure. Not all the [Divers] would use it; but only because nearly forty would be going down through various methods. They had been so excited.

The first five times. But all the excitement, the hype, all of it had turned to disappointment the first few times. But the students had known that treasure wasn’t guaranteed, or even likely after all this time. They had told themselves that the second time. And the third. And the fourth.

This time Wil and Yerra went off to watch as Captain Lasc marched down the deck. Few of the [Sailors] were watching too. Although—and here was a brief spark of interest—Inky was one of the [Divers]. She had an Amulet of Waterbreathing.

“There. If she can breathe underwater and she’s not accepted on a Drowned Crew, it must be prejudice as that Begal said. I was right.”

Venaz pointed that out to the others. Feshi sighed.

“Venaz, you are more stubborn than one of my clan’s dogs with a bone. Drop it.”

The Minotaur harrumphed, but he said nothing more as the others watched the [Divers] go under and the diving bell being lowered. It was Merrik who sighed and looked around.

“Okay, I bet…forty six hypothetical gold pieces that we find something this time. Even if it’s a minor artifact or gold.”

“No bet. That’s too open-ended.”

Feshi instantly replied. The dives had found objects before. Some gold, a few very minor objects like a green vase that turned out to be silver—but all the wrecks had been picked clean. Or the undersea currents or something had moved the contents. Or there hadn’t been anything to begin with.

“Why forty-six hypothetical gold pieces? Hypothetical?”

Venaz stared at Merrik. The Dwarf shrugged.

“If I was going to bet them. Hypothetical, yeah. Peki and I bet them all the time.”

“I am one hundred and eighty two hypothetical gold coins in debt. I bet thirty nothing comes up, Merrik.”

The Garuda nodded as she dipped her beak into a glass of water. Venaz frowned.

“But why did Merrik bet forty six?”

It was really bothering him. Merrik ignored the Minotaur as he turned to Feshi. The Gnoll was idly fiddling with a bone necklace.

She was Feshi Weatherfur, of the Weatherfur tribe. As was her tribe’s custom, she dyed parts of her fur different colors. Beyond that? She, like many had come to the Titan’s Academy to become one of the world’s best [Strategists].

She was very good at ambushes, moving battles—not as good as Marian, but she was in the special class for the best students. If she had any specialty, it was laying traps. But she wasn’t the class’ best. Now, she sighed through her nose as she sprawled out on the table. Merrik eyed her sidelong.

“Feshi, You know what I’d do if we are on Terandria and had forty-six gold pieces? No—if we were home? We should visit, by the way. Once we’re done with…”

He gestured at the people at the railings on the port side, calling out to each other, checking to see if anyone wanted to come up. Wil was there, looking tense. Upset. Yerra was patting him on the shoulder, clearly trying to get him to laugh.

“Can’t. We’re going to Izril. I need to attend the Meeting of Tribes.”

“Oh, yeah. Damn, I forgot.”

Merrik sighed. He went on though, undeterred.

“Terandria’s a great place, though. Safe. Safer than Baleros. Still has its fair share of monsters—well, you can’t eradicate them. But it’s got some good places. Like my home. You should all visit. It’s a wonderful mountain city.”

The others nodded. Merrik looked around and his voice rose slightly, with the confidence of all those far from home had that their home was special.

“It is! Come and visit!”

Venaz stirred. He looked up over his umpteenth cup of the strong swill the [Sailors] favored. It was being provided to the guests free of charge. Well—Wil’s family had paid a small fortune to hire the vessel and crew for his adventure. Venaz had been calculating just how much money would be lost. For…fun.

“You mean, the mountain of the Dwarves? Dwarfhome Mountains?”

Merrik snorted.

“That’s just the colloquial name. Dwarfhome. Technically, we’re the Mountain Kingdom of the Dwarves, Deríthal-vel. But most people can’t pronounce that.”

“Derithal-vel. There. And why are we visiting? For the lovely sights of a…mountain?”

“You pronounced it wrong.”

Merrik smiled smugly at Venaz’s glare. He shook his head.

“It’s the place to buy weaponry! I thought you’d appreciate that. Even you, Feshi. There are some decent [Bowyers] there, but you could buy a bow made of metal!”

“Pass. And I’m not interested in a bunch of Dwarves. Too short for me.”

The Gnoll sighed. Merrik ignored that crack. But Venaz seemed to take that as another point against visiting.

“I’ve always been curious. But what do Dwarven women…? We don’t get many Dwarves in the House of Minos. So do they have…”

He made a gesture for a beard. Peki began laughing. Merrik glared.

“Hey! It’s not all Dwarven women. Most look Human and not all of ‘em have beards. That’s stereotyping, right there. Actually…most don’t have beards. That’s a weird fetish. Don’t understand it myself.”

“Really? How many other species are there?”

The other students listened as they watched one of the divers return. Inky. She was already shaking her head at Captain Lasc, but he was clearly ordering her back down. Merrik had to think about it.

“Humans are a good population in Dwarfhome. And apprentices from every species come to learn our craft. ‘sides, us Dwarves have a lot of Human blood in us. We’re taller than our forefathers were…mostly because of all the interspecies marriages. Tens of thousands of years of it. But Dwarf blood is stubborn. Still.”

He shrugged. Venaz nodded.

“How defensible is Derithal-vel?”

“Still saying it wrong. Very defensible. We’re Dwarves. We have Dwarven steel—the best [Smiths]…but we don’t fight in many wars.”

“Not even the one with Ailendamus and the other nations? Isn’t Wil’s homeland potentially part of that? Aren’t you worried?”

Feshi was searching for some salted fish. She gnawed on it and shared it around; the others ate mainly to have something to do. But it did help make them thirsty for the drink, which made them willing to eat the fish…Merrik grunted. He looked a bit sad.

“Ah, well. We go to war now and then. But we’re attacked seldom. Truth is…Dwarfhome is mostly a giant smithy. We provide arms, sometimes take sides. But Terandria relies on our steel. And there aren’t enough of us to kick around in an army anymore. Well, not that we want to lose. Good numbers, but not compared to all the Humans in the rest of the continent.”

“Declining populations?”

“You try outbreeding Humans.”

The four [Strategists] shared a hearty laugh. Some of the passing [Sailors] looked sideways at them, but the other four species nodded at each other. Merrik sobered. But then he smiled, suddenly.

“True, we don’t invite war because it’s dangerous. But there’s another reason for it. We don’t get attacked because Dwarfhome has never been taken once.”

He folded his arms. The other [Strategists] glanced at him. It was the kind of statement that invited instant ridicule for anyone in the Titan’s classes.

“What, never? You’re pulling gold out of your ass, Merrik. Don’t give me that look, Peki, that’s how the saying goes.”

Venaz snorted incredulously. Merrik’s eyes twinkled.

“I’m not. You can debate it as much as you want, but that’s not a false claim. Not. Ever. We’ve surrendered, but no one’s ever breached Dwarfhome by force of arms.”

“What about surrender via attrition? Starvation?”

“Nope. Surrendered because we didn’t want a bloodbath. But never starved to death. And even when we endured decades-long sieges—they stormed us and never got through. Not. Once. Top that? Not a bad reason to visit, eh?”

The Dwarf leaned back, looking satisfied. It was a challenge. The other [Strategists] glanced at each other.

“Not bad. But Minos is a paradise. Almost no crime—safety—[Warriors] who have reached a martial peak. I know Peki speaks of Pomle, but the reason I left was that Minos was too safe for me. Being a [Strategist] is my ticket to joining our mercenary forces. And that is an honor. Only the best of Minos get to go. Did I mention I beat the [Prince] to earn the honor?”

“Only every other day, Venaz. But if Minos is so perfect, why don’t more people join? Or why don’t the islands expand?”

Yerranola strolled back over. She made a face as the others looked at her.

“Diving isn’t going well. Looks like another wreck.”

“Damn.”

Venaz swore. The others groaned and put their heads down. Venaz covered his eyes and looked up.

“No one tell Wil this, but I think he should have insisted the Professor give him whatever answer he wanted for his family. Why don’t we expand, Yerra? The House of the Minos was one of the last gigantic empires. Our Kings still remember. They decree we will not be so dishonorable again.”

“Ah. Good [Kings]?”

“The best. Our King is wise—a seasoned warrior—we may pass by the House of Minos. If we do, I can arrange shore leave for all of you. Perhaps even an audience. She’s quite generous. And the very font of honor.”

“She?”

Before Venaz could explain about the female King of Minotaurs, Peki spoke up suddenly.

“Pomle is great. We don’t have [Kings]. We fought to get free.”

“Peki! Is that national pride I hear?”

Merrik chortled. The Garuda looked around defiantly.

“Pomle is strong. A hundred Pomle warriors once held off an army of a hundred thousand.”

“Ah, but that was when it was founded. Can they still do that?”

“Yes.”

The Garuda made the others pause. Merrik was pursing his lips and the others were, despite themselves, looking forwards to a good debate. But then it was Feshi’s turn to sigh.

“I miss home. When we get to Izril, I’ll take you to my clan, along with Venaz’s nation. The Weatherfur clan isn’t the biggest clan—well, we’re pretty big. And powerful.”

She didn’t sound very modest because she wasn’t being. The others looked at her, curious.

“I have to admit, I’m not up on Gnoll clans, Feshi. What makes the Weatherfur one unique?”

Merrik stroked his beard. Feshi smiled. She indicated her colored fur.

“We color our fur like the rainbow. Because we know where and when to send our flocks. We have very large ones and we predict the weather. Well—traditionally. Our clan is one of the biggest. Silverfang, Weatherfur, Ironscent—we’re among the bigger ones. Not the biggest in the pack…and we lost Garusa Weatherfur. Our pride. She would have made us important at the Meeting of Tribes. I wanted to become a [Strategist] because she was a [General]. I would have…liked to serve under her command.”

The others stilled. Feshi looked sad. Yerranola interrupted them.

“If we’re talking about home—you should visit a Selphid place sometime. We’re friendly. Just not beloved in Baleros.”

She looked once at Venaz. The Minotaur paused.

“What are Selphid communities like?”

Yerra grinned. The same grin she had among all her bodies.

“Small. But some of our people are as old as Dwarves or half-Elves. We stick together. No one who’s around another Selphid goes hungry. We have to stick together. You know, because of the empire.”

Two species with a recent history of world domination looked at each other. Venaz gave a short nod. He sat up, looking extremely awkward. He took a long moment before he spoke.

“Yerra. I may have been wrong. Why don’t we ask this Inky for her side? Just to ratify…”

The Minotaur’s not-quite-an-apology was interrupted by a sound from the side. The [Strategists] and two [Officers] looked up. Wil Kallinad was striding along the decks. His face was white. Captain Lasc, Inky, and the other [Divers] were returning. Yerra turned.

“Wil?”

It didn’t take them long to find out. There was nothing in the shipwreck. Inky herself had found a tag that [Treasure Seekers] used. The shipwreck had been picked over long ago.

Six down. Three to go. The students looked at each other. Then they went to comfort their friend.

—-

Meetings Above and Below

“Nothing. That’s the sixth one. I’m sorry, everyone. I think I’ve led you all on a pointless chase. That was one of the biggest leads. It was meant to be the Gailenwright’s Eye. And it was nothing.”

Wil sat on the bed as the other five students stood around him. Venaz blinked.

“The Gailenwright? One of the most famous ships in modern history, crewed by one of the [Pirate Lords]—”

“Don’t get excited Venaz. That was it. And it wasn’t the Gailenwright. And nothing was left.”

The young [Lord] was still pale-faced. White, not so much with shock as with despair. The other students sobered. Venaz lowered his hand.

“Oh.”

“It’s not that bad, Wil. There are still three more shots. Even if—I mean—statistically, there’s still some chance of…”

Yerranola looked around for words. But…the problem was this.

It was easy to say ‘it’s just bad luck’, or ‘the probability’ was this. They’d been doing that the entire trip. And if it was just that, it would be easier to keep hope.

But all six shipwrecks hadn’t just been duds. They’d been looted already. By [Divers]. [Treasure Seekers], using treasure-hunting Skills. The Titan’s notes, his secret file of all possible treasures…wasn’t unique.

“I’ve never thought of it, but the Professor doesn’t have any real experience with sea-battles. Some, but he’s not an expert on it. He’s…a land-strategist. And his research might not exceed that of most treasure seekers.”

Venaz muttered to himself as he sat on the lower bunk that was his bed. Feshi patted Wil on the back as Merrik poured himself another drink and offered Wil a glass. The young man refused. Peki began doing squats. No one really knew what to say that they hadn’t said five times before. But reality was sinking in.

“Lord Kallinad! Are you shipshape? I just need a moment, sir.”

A knock at the door. Captain Lasc came in as Will called out. The [Storm Captain], a hardened man from the sea, but not as bulky as you might expect—even lean, and young, for a man of his rank, saluted slightly. Wil might have been young, and he might have been a guest, but Lasc often worked for the Kallinad family.

“Just wanted to have a word after the dive.”

“I’m sure the crew is upset, Captain Lasc—”

The man smiled slightly, a slightly unfamiliar action to him. And he tried to moderate the tone of command that was his by right.

“Don’t worry, sir. The crew looks at this as easy, paid work. You won’t get any trouble from them and it’s a fine attempt.”

Captain Lasc looked cheerful, having already resigned himself to finding little on this voyage. It was a good way to be. Not so for Wil.

“Thank you, Captain. We have only three more spots to go. Then we can proceed to Izril. Perhaps a stop at the House of Minos?”

“As you wish, Lord Kallinad. My crew is willing for all of it. Just wanted to let you know.”

The door clicked shut on Lasc’s heels. Yerra spoke after a moment.

“Well, he’s cheerful.”

“He gets paid either way. But…my family won’t be as pleased.”

Wil buried his head in his hands. It was Feshi who thoughtfully spoke up after a moment. The Gnoll looked from Wil to the others.

“You know, Wil. If nothing is found on this voyage, the Professor’s list was all wrong. Not even a bit of treasure? I think he would be as upset as you. And he might…offer you whatever it is you didn’t get for your family if that turned out to be the case.”

The others looked at her, surprised. Wil’s head rose slowly.

“He wouldn’t. Would he?”

“He’s prideful. He wanted to give you an adventure and if you didn’t get it? You could…negotiate.”

“Negotiate with the professor? For a gesture made with all his knowledge?”

Venaz looked horrified by the thought—and then thoughtful. Wil looked up.

“But that would be—”

“It’s the Titan’s secret. If it’s a trash secret, ask for a refund. Feshi, you’re a genius!”

Yerranola laughed. The Gnoll smiled to herself.

“You know him. He is generous, yes? It’s worth bearing in mind.”

That, more than anything seemed to cheer Wil up. He looked around.

“Well—well—we don’t know the other locations are a dud.”

“But if there are, we have backup. Rhir’s hell, Feshi! That’s genius! And it’s what the Professor would approve of. Let’s—hey, let’s send him a [Message]! Just tell him that and ask what he says.”

“No. That would be—”

“He’d love it, Wil! I bet he’d bring it up in class and ask the others what they’d do!”

“That’s an excellent idea. I wish I’d had it. We can all draft the [Message]. Make him the bet—”

“And if it goes wrong, it was Venaz’s idea.”

Peki put in. Everyone stared at the Garuda’s sly look and burst out laughing. In a great humor, they began drafting the letter. And Wil smiled. But he paused.

“Three more places.”

The downed ship of Archmage Zelkyr. The possible resting place of the Diamond Swords of Serept. A Dragonship.

Each one a treasure to make your skin tingle. But…Wil smiled. Maybe it was the Titan’s lesson after all. But he joined the others in composing a [Message] spell that night. After all—

It never hurt to ask.

And far below the ship where the six students composed a [Message] that did indeed put Niers Astoragon in stitches—and wonder if his information really was that poor—a similar conversation was being had.

An underwater ship, crewed by Drowned People was following The Emerald Signet. But they’d stopped to check something.

“Depth Captain. Our scouts have found nothing in the shipwreck that the landfolk did not find. It was indeed picked clean.”

A [First Mate] whose body was half-starfish saluted a Drowned Captain. He was half-Eel. His name and title was Depth Captain Therrium Sailwinds of the Undersea Crews. And his ship, The Passing Shadow was feared above and under the sea.

…He wasn’t happy. He growled curses that the rest of his crew, moving in the silence of the waters, looked up fearfully to hear. Not only because his wrath was terrible, but because he had violated one of the precepts of those who sailed under the waves.

Make no sound, lest ye attract what draws to it.

But the cursing was short-lived. Captain Therrium, a man who had three sons, a ship to his name, and quite a lot of gold, was used to risky ventures. He just hated it when they fell through.

“Damn the landfolk who plundered the ship!”

His voice was a deep, bubbling growl even as a whisper among the silent vessel. Of course, he sounded like this, as did much of the Drowned Folk, but they all did, so to them it was normal conversation. The First Mate winced.

“Actually, Depth Captain…I think the [Divers] were ours. The marks looks so.”

“Oh. Well then. Scavengers.”

Therrium moderated his tone. He sighed. And only then did he hear the muffled obscenities coming from his left. The half-Eel Drowned Man turned his head.

…A second Drowned Ship was floating next to the first, having drawn alongside. And the other [Depth Captain] was cursing through the magical barrier that kept the waters out.

“Damn you, Therrium! Three weeks it’s been and not a sight of treasure!”

“This is our mark!”

The [Captain] whisper-howled back across the gulf between them. He saw a half-Shrimp Drowned Woman, her antennae moving as she furiously pointed one feeler-hand at him.

“You don’t own the ship until you’ve sunk it, Therrium! We have a right to the sea!”

“Then don’t curse my name for a dry spell!”

Disgruntled, Therrium turned his back and motioned for the [Helmsman] to take the ship away. The other Drowned Ship drifted back as well.

Two ships were following The Emerald Signet. Two that Therrium was aware of, including his own. More than one person had heard Yerranola and Venaz’s careless slip of the tongue about the Titan’s treasure. But it was turning out to be a fruitless endeavor.

Nevertheless…the other [Depth Captain] was pulling back, but she was no doubt making the same calculation Therrium was. Was it worth the risk of following this ship underwater? Spending time and thus, food and coin on a worthless endeavor?

Therrium held the course. But…it was a funny thing. Wil Kallinad didn’t know it, but more than one person was hoping for his success. And waiting for that moment.

—-

Romance, Duels, and Slugs

Again, as was his wont, the Professor refused to say if Wil would get a different reward if he turned up empty-handed after his trip. But the other students opined that it was the Titan’s way of saying ‘yes’. Also, they’d received [Messages], letters, really, from Marian, Cameral, Umina—even Kissilt and the others about how the Professor had shared the [Message] in class and immediately begun a lecture on naval tactics in response to Venaz’ allegations.

That was a good moment. But it didn’t last. Soon—monotony set in. Only—this time the students knew their enemy. And one of them—Merrik—decided he was ill. He had cabin-fever. Sea-fever. Boredom-fever. And the only cure was sex.

“Alright. So, if I get lucky, here’s how we’ll do it. I’ll hang my helmet on the doorknob, like so. That means I’m busy. Don’t come in. Bunk with someone else, got it?”

The Dwarf was showing Peki the symbol they would use. She had the top bunk and he had the bottom in their room.

Yerranola was paired with Feshi. Venaz with Wil. Peki was with Merrik, but the two didn’t mind the gender difference. They were friends from Niers’ officer training classes.

Peki eyed the thick, plate helmet that Merrik wore, forged from his home’s forges. It wasn’t enchanted, but his hammer and mail were lightweight. Strong. Stronger than regular steel and made by experts.

“Do you understand, Peki? I don’t want you barging in and ruining the mood.”

Merrik shook the helmet at the Garuda. The bird-girl tilted her head sideways.

“Fine.”

“Okay. I’m going to see if Feshi’s interested in anything.”

The Dwarf smoothed his beard with some beard oil. He’d already cleaned the salt from it, and his clothing. Peki smiled.

“She said she’s not into Dwarves.”

“Ah, she just said she wasn’t interested in visiting Dwarfhome. There’s a difference. Besides…we’re all cramped up on the boat. What’s the harm in offering, eh? And she’s smart. That thing with the Professor? I respect that. Who’re you after? Venaz? Wil?”

“Eh.”

The Garuda made a face. Merrik chortled.

“A [Lord] and Sir Bull himself. I don’t fancy your options. But here—say you do get lucky. What’s your signal? Worse comes to worst, we’ll pair off in the other’s rooms and sort it out. But I doubt we’ll both do fine. Because I’m charming and you’re a bird-brain.”

Peki ignored the jibe. She plucked Merrik’s helmet from his other hand and smiled at him. When he looked at her, she pointed at the door.

“If I get lucky, I’ll use your helmet to let you know.”

The two stared at each other, and then laughed. In a good humor, they trooped upstairs.

“…So, Pheislant is a coastal nation. We’re known for it. We’re not as big as some of Terandria’s larger kingdoms—which is why we’ll probably do something if Ailendamus pushes at Calanfer and the other nations. They can’t be allowed to continue expanding.”

“But do you have the forces to resist an attack?”

Wil sighed.

“At sea we’ll do well. But Pheislant has a weaker land army. We don’t profit by wars like the Minotaurs, Venaz. We have lighthouses, you know?”

“Famous ship-guides, I know. I have been on a vessel before.”

“So you say, sir. Repeatedly.”

Captain Lasc and his [First Mate], Delivan, chortled. They were having a cordial drink with some of the [Strategists] and Lasc had lent the students his cabin. Actually—they were having a miniature lesson there.

“So this is the sextant? And you’re plotting us by—what was it? Tacking the sails?”

Yerra was looking at the map. Lasc nodded. He had a compass, a sextant, and any number of tools for navigation.

“Aye, Miss Yerranola. We move zig-zag, see? By the wind. If worst comes to it, we’ll use a spell or call upon a [Mage] or Skill to boost our sails. But we use the wind normally.”

“And we plot our course by the stars and the moons. Both of ‘em. It’s a Djinni’s riddle, to do it. But any [Captain] worth his salt learns the trade.”

Delivan put in, grinning as he showed the other students how to calculate their course. Wil and the others were suitably impressed as the officers entered. Peki and Merrik hadn’t joined in the little lesson, reminiscent of their classes. But then—they wouldn’t even need to do this sort of thing.

“Ah, there you all are! How’s it going? Dead gods, but I thought we left the book learning in Baleros!”

In a good mood, Merrik strode over to the table. The others looked at him. Yerranola winked; she had a good intuition for this sort of thing. Feshi sniffed the air and Wil and Venaz turned from a debate over Pheislant’s land forces.

“Hey Merrik, Peki. Come to join in the learning?”

“No.”

Merrik kicked Peki under the table. Peki being Peki, she kicked back. Merrik muffled an oath as his eyes watered.

“Well—I can’t say I’ll ever captain a ship. Leave that to the experts like Lasc here. But I can respect Wil and the rest for learning to send ships across the ocean! Say, Feshi. You wouldn’t mind teaching me some of the logistical side of things, would you? Never hurts to know more. And I’m—”

“No.”

The female Gnoll smiled at Merrik across the table, baring her teeth slightly. Merrik paused.

“What, not even a few lessons? I was hoping—”

“No. I’m not interested, Merrik.”

The Dwarf’s face went flat. The others looked at each other. Venaz raised his eyebrows, looking hugely entertained. Merrik spluttered.

“I wasn’t insinuating—I was just asking—”

The Gnoll [Strategist] gave Merrik a look and he shut up. She held up a few fingers.

“Firstly, you’ve washed and you’ve oiled your beard. Second, I can smell you. And third—”

The Dwarf deflated. Peki was smiling.

“Yes?”

Feshi gave him a grin.

“I’ve heard people trying that before. I’m not an idiot. Sorry, Merrik. But no thank you.”

The others laughed. Merrik turned red, but he laughed along good-naturedly too.

“Damn! Well, there goes my options!”

“What? With this pristine body here? I’m only slightly rotted—oh wait. This is my wrong body.”

Yerra sniffed at her slightly decomposing flesh. She glanced quickly at Peki. The Garuda was staring at Wil and Venaz. They shuffled their feet. Peki was very unsubtle. It was one of her flaws as a [Commander], actually. Then she started staring at Lasc.

The [Captain] grinned. But he turned to Merrik.

“Sorry, sir. Heard you and your lot were going stir-crazy below decks. Happens to all first-timers.”

“Rejected.”

Peki whispered. Merrik’s rueful laughter cut off. He turned and growled.

“That’s it! I’ve had enough of you, you giant chicken! Upstairs! We’ll settle this, once and for all!”

Peki grinned. The two shot out of the cabin. Slightly worried, the other students and the two [Sailors] stared after them.

By the time they got upstairs, the fight was underway. Sailors looked up from their tasks as the Dwarf and Garuda strode to a clear patch of deck. Merrik had grabbed his helmet and armor and he was donning them fast as he could. Peki, being Peki, was helping him. As Wil got above decks she leapt back, and then kicked across the deck.

“You blasted bird!”

Merrik raised a shield. The Garuda struck it and the impact and crash of sound made everyone turn. Merrik barely moved.

The Dwarf had a shield and in his plate armor he was like a rock on the deck. Peki darted right and left, lunging forwards to attack in a flurry of blows, but Merrik let the impacts rain on his armor and blocked with his shield. He lashed out with his hammer, but Peki was far too fast.

“You’ll never break my guard, Peki!”

“And you’re slow.”

The Garuda flew up and dropped in an axe kick. Merrik swore as he blocked. The impact cracked the deck. The Dwarf swore, as he raised his hammer.

“You’ve tried that in training! Take this! [Giant’s Hammer—”

“Lower your weapons and stop fighting on my ship or I’ll throw your guts overboard and the rest of you with it!”

Captain Lasc bellowed as he advanced on the two fighters. Peki hesitated and Merrik turned. Both stared at the broken planks on the deck.

“Uh oh.”

Peki alighted and stood behind Merrik. The Dwarf pushed his helmet up.

“Er, sorry about that, Captain Lasc.”

“Captain, Kallinad will repay you for the damages.”

Wil looked at the furious [Captain] and waved his hands at Peki. She waved her wings back, looking only slightly apologetic. Lasc calmed down, but only slightly.

“No fighting on my deck, sir. Miss. I’ve no objection to training with arms, but not of that sort!”

“But that’s the only way we know how to fight! Mind you, I am sorry. Peki—she doesn’t hold back. Good on you that the deck’s secure—I saw her kick straight through the roof of a house and into the ground floor with that trick, once.”

The [Storm Captain] glared, but then, surprisingly, relented.

“Well, it’s just a bit of damage. But The Emerald Signet’s hull isn’t made from ironwood! Or enchanted, beyond a few basics on the hull! But I’ve seen Miss Peki fight.”

“Really? Where?”

Merrik pushed up his helmet even further. It was First Mate Delivan who replied with a grin.

“Daquin, of course! We saw the entire thing! You’re not the only one with scrying orbs. And it was good to see someone kick the Iron Vanguard in the teeth! Bastards rule Baleros’ waters with a fist like…iron!”

The other [Sailors] laughed. Bemused, the students realized they were known. And—the ice broken, even Captain Lasc acknowledged having seen Peki and Merrik in action.

“It was part of the reason we took this charter. Seeing Lord Kallinad duel with Tulm the Mithril, well, we hoped this would be a similar story. But it’s good enough to see. And if you can split the deck with a single kick—”

“Stay away from the fucking boom!”

A voice among the [Sailors]. Inky. The others laughed. Peki looked actually embarrassed and hid her face behind a wing. The [Martial Artist] could weather near-drowning, boredom, and Merrik better than embarrassment.

“Well, if I avoid striking the deck and Peki avoids hitting me from above, we’d have no problems. And sparring’s not a bad idea. Helps with the rejection.”

Merrik gave Feshi a mock-heartbroken look. The Gnoll laughed.

“He’s still trying. Does he have a chance?”

Wil whispered to Yerra. The Selphid grinned as she slung an arm around his shoulders.

“Wil, my boy, there’s always a chance. Especially with Dwarves. Stubborn, like that.”

Across the deck, some of the other crew of The Emerald Signet were taking advantage of the conversation about Daquin to test Merrik and Peki, minor celebrities. It was Delivan who spoke while casually patting his side. He had a sword and a miniature crossbow at his sides.

“You know, [Storm Sailors] fight as well as any landfolk in their armies. We’re the vanguard of the sea, but we don’t truck with shields or armor. Can’t swim if you get tossed. And a moving ship’s not as easy to fight on as dry ground. Mind if I give your armor a try, Mister Merrik?”

The other [Sailors] laughed and cheered. The Dwarf and Peki looked around at the challenge.

“I never turn down the chance to learn.”

Merrik grinned beneath his helmet. But it was Captain Lasc himself who stepped between Delivan and the Dwarf.

“If it’s a challenge, I’ll be the first to take it on. After all—a [Storm Captain] shouldn’t fall behind a student. Even the Titan of Baleros’s students.”

The gathered crowd fell silent for a moment. Then there was a low murmur. The [Sailors] looked at Lasc. And they were…expectant as they glanced at Merrik and Peki. Appraising.

Wil Kallinad felt his spine tingling. [Storm Captain]. That was, to his knowledge, at least a Level 30 class. But the students were high-level. He saw Merrik pause, and grin.

“Can’t be sure I’d spare your decks if I went up against you, Captain.”

“Well, that happens in a ship battle. Can’t help it if it’s a true engagement. But we try to end it before it comes to that, right, crew?”

Lasc looked around. The [Sailors] laughed and cheered. Merrik’s eyes narrowed. Wil was hesitating. Should he break this up? He didn’t know Lasc’s class or abilities or temperament. He could…probably hold back. But he had a sword in one hand. Shortsword. Was he just some kind of good [Swordsman]?

But then—a snort from the side. And like he was born for the role, Venaz spoke up.

“That’s a lot of bravado. But I’m not sure Merrik’s the best fighter among us. Or Peki, for that matter.”

Every head turned. Wil leaned on Yerranola and covered his eyes for a second. The Minotaur strode forwards. He was, of course, the tallest person on the ship bar none. Huge, hugely muscular, his fur rippling with muscle. He looked at Merrik and Peki. Both [Officers] eyed him.

“Venaz, I love you like…a friend. Whom I’ve gotten to know for a few months at most. Two months, really. But you do like to talk out of your ass, right, Peki?”

The Garuda nodded.

“All ass, no Skill. We are [Warriors]. You’re a [Strategist].”

“ A [War Strategist]. I earned my levels, even if not all of my Skills went to combat. I consolidated my class. I’ve led [Soldiers] into battle. I didn’t join the officer classes because I heard the acumen of the [Strategist] classes was better, and that was what I needed to work on.”

Venaz flexed one arm, casually. Wil recalled—Venaz used plate armor too. He’d brought some for the trip. Also—he was skilled with any number of weapons.

“Oh, really? And you think you could take me?”

Merrik put his hammer down with deceptive good-nature. But even he had his limits. Venaz eyed him.

“You’ve got armor. Give me a moment to put on my armor and I’ll take you on. Bastard sword, shield. Since it’s not to the death, we’ll call each blow a point. Mortal wounds or ten to a victor, fair?”

The Minotaur was smiling confidently. Merrik’s eyes narrowed.

“You’re overconfident, Venaz. Just because you have a few Skills, you think you can take me on? Fine. Let’s do it and bet some real gold on—”

Captain Lasc walked between the two. The [Storm Captain] had a casual stroll. But he put one arm out to block Merrik. And he looked at Venaz.

“Mister Venaz. As much as I’d like the duel, I believe it was I who made the challenge. And the [Captain]’s honor must come before a passenger’s. Even a paying one.”

The Minotaur blinked. He looked at Lasc. Then he grinned.

“Pull out your armor, then, Captain. I don’t have a set large enough for you, but take out whatever you bring for a fight. Same rules—”

“I’ll fight bare blade and as I am. A [Captain]’s dress. And for you, sir, I’ll let you put on plate and whatever armor you feel’s fitting. I’m confident enough not cut you. Say you touch me once—we’ll call it your victory.”

The Minotaur—froze. And Wil heard Feshi laugh with delight. Peki was grinning.

“You think you can take me down without a scratch?”

“It’s my ship, and we’re at sea, sir. I’d dare any man or woman on this ship the same.”

There was a look in Lasc’s eye, like a predator. And Venaz? He looked into that confident face.

And he lost his temper.

—-

Wil Kallinad had seen Venaz lose his temper a few times. When he’d broken the other Minotaur’s jaw in the battle with the Iron Vanguard. In a pub brawl. In class with Marian.

The Minotaur’s eyes would turn red. He would lose all sense of control—but not reason. When a Minotaur raged, it was like a Selphid’s rampage. They were stronger, faster.

And Wil was worried about the outcome. Lasc was getting ready, but he hadn’t done much other than draw his sword and put something on his left hand. On the other hand—

Venaz was in his plate armor, holding a sword and shield. He had a small armory in his bag of holding.

“Venaz, you can’t injure Lasc. Or make him lose too much face in front of his crew. A [Storm Captain] relies on it.”

“I should let him insult me in front of everyone? Don’t worry. I’ll just draw blood.”

But Venaz’s eyes were reddened with blood. Lasc calmly watched him stalk towards the circle of crew. Wil hurried over to Lasc and Delivan.

“Captain, Venaz cannot be injured or wounded in any serious way. And he is angered. If you could call this off—”

“Call off a duel I started, Lord Kallinad? I’d be laughed off the waves for that. Don’t you worry. I don’t need to bleed the Minotaur dry. Although it would be easy enough. This’ll be a quick bout. Don’t you worry.”

Lasc strode forwards. Venaz was gritting his teeth as he raised his sword and shield, taking a defensive guard.

“No playing for points. A proper duel! No one kills the other, but all’s fair before that. We both have healing potions.”

“Is that how land men do it? Fair enough. Until the other falls or surrenders.”

Lasc grinned. Wil whirled to Delivan.

“Can’t you stop him?”

“Don’t worry, Lord Kallinad. You paid for a true [Storm Captain] and his crew, sure enough. We’ve fought more than one invader off. Monsters, [Pirates]—any number of threats at sea landfolk have never dreamed of in their darkest. Captain Lasc—he’s not going to lose, even to those two.”

Delivan nodded to Peki and Merrik, who were betting copious amounts of hypothetical gold on the outcome. Merrik, for all his anger, was backing Venaz. Peki, Lasc.

“Are you sure, Mister Delivan? Because this could be a serious matter if it goes poorly.”

The [First Mate] looked calmly at Wil. So calmly, the young [Lord] calmed.

“Lord Kallinad. There’s no way Lasc’ll lose. You don’t know how he fights. Neither does that Minotaur.”

Venaz was studying Lasc. The [Storm Captain] hadn’t put on armor, but his rather swanky [Captain]’s uniform was pretty good. Also—enchanted, at least against salt and other minor annoyances at sea. However…Venaz had a sword and a Minotaur’s strength.

All Lasc had was a shortsword. And—something on his hand. Metal? Venaz narrowed his eyes. What fighting style was this?

“Last chance, Captain. If you’re not ready?”

“If you’re turning tail, Mister Venaz, no one’ll stop you. Otherwise—start as you please. And I’ll show you why the continental nations don’t rule these seas.”

Lasc grinned. And Venaz, temper already at the breaking point, charged. If he was calmer he might have appraised. But he came in with a slash at Lasc’s arm.

It was fast. Wil, who had taken a noble’s fighting lessons, would have been disarmed literally by the blow. Even the [Sailors] winced. Venaz was a Minotaur who’d seen battle. And his blow was fast, strong—

Lasc moved. The air rang with a sound and Venaz recoiled. He stumbled back. And Wil—stared.

On his hand. The bit of metal on [Storm Captain]’s left hand was neither buckler nor dagger. It was just—or rather, it was a gauntlet. A—glove. Made of metal.

With his right hand, Lasc had parried Venaz’ strike with the shortsword. With his left, he’d belted Venaz across the face. Twice. So fast the Minotaur hadn’t been able to pull his head back.

“Dead gods! That was quick!”

Yerranola exclaimed from the side. Venaz recoiled. He narrowed his eyes.

“That’s an infighter’s trick. You wouldn’t be able to block an axe with that.”

“I’d dodge that. Shall I come, Mister Venaz?”

The Minotaur didn’t reply. But the crimson in his eyes grew deeper. He advanced, his shield raised to cover his face. The one unguarded spot on his body. He had plate armor. And his sword lanced out, quick as a snake.

Quick! But Lasc was faster. Again, Wil saw his shortsword parry Venaz’ thrust. And his left hand moved like a blur.

He had a faster hand-speed than any [Warrior] that Wil Kallinad had ever seen. And he had watched his sister sparring her peers in the Order of Seasons. But the [Storm Captain], unburdened of armor or anything but that metal fist, was faster yet. He hammered Venaz’s shield, smacking the back of it into the Minotaur’s face to disorient him. And then he dodged around as Venaz struck out.

The Minotaur was too tall for Lasc to easily hit his head. So the [Storm Captain] jumped. Venaz whirled. This time, his sword just went straight for Lasc’s legs as the man leapt. The fastest blow yet, just to cut, to slow the man down—

Lasc’s hand blurred. It was definitely a Skill. He struck Venaz twenty times before he landed. According to Peki. Helmet, neck, jaw—and his arm. Venaz’ sword sliced into the wood of the deck as it was deflected. He rocked. But he kept his guard up.

The [Storm Captain] advanced. His left hand hit the Minotaur’s chest, chin, head, arms—it was like hearing an endless ringing sound. The blows weren’t light, either. Venaz stumbled back. He was trying to keep his guard up, trying to keep on his feet. But it was a flurry, a rush. He tried, but his shield was blown back and he stumbled for just a second.

In the [Storm Captain] danced, and his fist laid the Minotaur flat. Wil saw Venaz go backwards onto the deck. He waited, but Venaz’ eyes were rolled back in his head.

Unconscious. The [Sailors] and students burst into a roar of amazement. Lasc raised his one hand. Delivan looked at Wil and grinned.

“[Storm Captains], Lord Kallinad. He can’t march with your [Knights]. But on the sea? Armor just makes you sink faster.”

—-

When Venaz woke up, even he had to admit that Lasc deserved his title. The Minotaur had something to say, though; he always did.

“If I’d known I was up against a [Brawler], I’d have kept my distance. My strategy was sound. But—er—hrm. That’s a difficult summit to beat without Skills and enchanted equipment. Even for me.”

That was as good as saying he’d lost outright. Lasc was gracious about it, though.

“Ah, I had you by surprise, sir. I’ve seen Minotaur crews. Nasty as they come, especially with their ship-mounted weapons. But I’m fair fast with my fists.”

“Beyond fast! Can you do that, Peki?”

“Trying.”

Peki was competing with Lasc, but even her best flurry was slower than the [Storm Captain]’s. He was indeed just incredibly fast with his left hand. And he’d turned that one trait into an overwhelming advantage.

After that, there were no more duels between Lasc, although Merrik did take on a few [Storm Sailors]. They were all quick. And Delivan had a nastily precise aim with the hand-crossbow he carried.

“Wands and crossbows. That’s how [Sailors] fight. We need to be nimble. It’s all movement and clashing and retreat. Can’t lug around heavy gear. And trouble can come quick.”

The [Sailors] were good, although Merrik and Peki were generally better. Although—they kept eying Lasc. And he them.

“I’d have more trouble taking down your armor, Mister Merrik. But I’ll spare my ship’s deck a refit. Myself—I think it’d be an interesting match if we went head-to-head. But if we were at sea, it’d be an easy one. Even against Miss Peki.”

“How so?”

The Dwarf looked wounded by Lasc’s appraisal. The [Storm Captain] grinned.

“Against either of you? I’d dump you in the sea and let the water do the rest! No sense fighting folks who can’t swim, in armor or with feathers.”

The two officers exchanged a look. Then they laughed. They had to respect that.

That night, Venaz was still nursing a sore jaw as they ate. He refused the healing potion, though, and an exasperated Yerra gave him the option of using a bit of potion or shutting up.

“I’m not whining.”

“No, but you wince loud enough to make my jaw hurt. And my body’s nerves are rotten!”

Yerra scowled. But Wil was relieved and looking forwards to tomorrow.

“We’ll be ready to dive again tomorrow. The next wreck isn’t far and Lasc has a ship-speed Skill.”

“Hopefully it’s something. But not a bad day.”

Venaz was far from exuberant, but he seemed relaxed after having been beaten in a spar—and then having smacked down six sailors in bare-knuckles fights. With one arm. The others nodded and they had what was for them, an early night. No late-night drinking and debates. Just rest.

Rest, and…Wil listened to Venaz snorting below him. Snorting, snoring, and smacking his lips.

Venaz did not sleep lightly. The [Lord] hunted around for some sealing wax he’d shaped into earplugs out of desperation, but they were gone. He hoped Merrik hadn’t stolen them; he complained of the exact same problem with Peki. Only, she whistled in her sleep.

“Damn you, Merrik—”

Wil was getting off the top bunk stealthily, to creep into Merrik’s room and see if he had purloined the earplugs. He was just creeping out into the corridor when he heard the sound.

Someone was humming a song. Wil paused, and then went above decks. He found a dark ship, [Sailors] on deck of course; it was never a ship without dozens upon dozens of crew working. But relatively less occupied. And there—close to the passenger’s quarters was her.

Inky.

The [Storm Sailor] was sitting on the rails, one leg over, watching the ocean. Wil stared at her. And then he heard her stop humming. She turned her head.

“Bothering you, am I, Lord Passenger Kallinad?”

Her tone wasn’t exactly rude, but it wasn’t friendly either. Wil winced, although he had no idea how she’d sensed him; the waves were an ever-present backdrop.

“No, sorry. I have a snoring Minotaur and I couldn’t sleep.”

The [Storm Sailor] grinned. And when she spoke, he saw the inner beak moving in her mouth. It was dopplering her voice a bit, but it didn’t seem to bother her much.

“Aye, that one. We can hear him too. Loud as a storm. But the [Captain] probably has some wax you can stuff your ears with.”

“I tried that. I think Merrik—the Dwarf stole mine.”

“Ah, another common issue at sea.”

The part Drowned-Woman nodded. She didn’t move as Wil came over to the railing. She eyed him.

“So. Curious are you about Drowned Folk? Could’ve asked me. I take no offense, but for idiots damaging the ship.”

Wil choked. He glanced at Inky.

“You—heard?”

“Begal told me.”

He did? Wil’s expression must have given him away, because Inky laughed.

“What’d he say to you? That Drowned Folk and [Sailors] don’t mix? True enough. But he didn’t tell you that when it comes to it, we’ll both drink from each other’s cups rather than let landfolk get the drop on us.”

And here they thought they’d been clever. Wil sighed. But Inky didn’t seem displeased. She glanced at him as he leaned on the rails.

“I’m sorry. We didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Ah, well. I admit, you’re not as bad as I thought.”

“Really? How so?”

Inky laughed.

“The first thing I was thinkin’ when I heard you were asking about me was which one of you it’d be. The Selphid? Not likely from how she acted, thought I. She likes you. The Gnoll don’t seem interested and it’s a rare landgirl who admits to liking women. The Garuda? Nope. So it was you, the Minotaur, or the Dwarf. I had odds on him or you being the gallant [Lord] who’d be kind to a half-breed like me. Invite me to your bed, sweep me off my feet. Marry me if I was lucky.”

She winked at Wil. The [Lord] said nothing.

“You might’ve lost your jaw on the decks, there, sir.”

“Why do you think I’d do that?”

Wil turned red. Embarrassed because she’d struck closer to home than he’d liked, even if he hadn’t been thinking of taking her to bed. Inky laughed.

“Why, because that’s how my ma had me. And Drowned Folk are an exotic fling for our passengers. We carry all sorts of noble folk. And they’re all too willing to try things at sea they’d never on land. But it’s a double blue moon before any of them take it further.”

“I’m—”

Wil halted on the sentence. He glanced at Inky and her look. And he didn’t say he was sorry. Because he had nothing to be sorry about. And there wasn’t much judgment in her gaze, anyways.

“Ah, an odd sort. The Titan’s students are different. And here I was, wooing you. All you had to do was say you were sorry and I’d have given it a shot.”

She grinned. She had two gold-capped teeth. Wil jumped. He stared at Inky.

“Now you’re teasing me.”

“Who, me? I was being serious there. Not often you get to snag a [Lord]. And Kallinad’s folk would mean you got to go back to the sea now and then. Mind you—I like that idiot better.”

“Which one of my idiots?”

A laugh.

“The Minotaur. He’s brash as can be. Wouldn’t be if he was one of the Minotaur crews. The seas beat that out of you. But—you landfolk’re alright. Invite me to your table. Captain Lasc doesn’t have enough work to keep me from it. And I’ll happily spin you all the yarns you want if you ply me with enough drink.”

She was—friendly. Wil found himself smiling. His impression of Inky from her shouting at Peki was all wrong. But that was often how to happened. Wasn’t that what the Professor said?

“Try not to let your first impressions shape what you believe to be true. Or rather—understand that they do and compensate.”

“Smart words.”

“The Titan of Baleros said them, once.”

“Well, he’d be the one. You’re not bad, young [Lord]. I had the wrong impression of you. But you’re still landfolk.”

The comment made Wil look up.

“…Am I doing something wrong?”

The part-Octopus girl laughed. She looked at Wil and shook her head in amazement.

“Of course. But all landfolk do it. Look at you. You’ve been at sea, what, three weeks? And you’re still mad. Cooped up. And you don’t see.”

“See what? What is there to see?”

Inky sighed. She dangled one leg over the railing and pointed.

“There.”

And Wil looked. He stared over the edge of the boat. And he saw nothing but the ocean. But of course, that was what Inky was pointing at.

The sea.

It was…dark. Like a black mirror, reflecting the stars and moons when they were out. But at times, they were just empty. And then—the vast, empty isolation struck you. The terror as you looked into the ocean and realized—you couldn’t tell where the bottom was. You couldn’t even guess.

It was not a beautiful sight, except in the frightening aspect of it. Wil shivered. But—the allure of it called to him. He stared into vastness of the ocean. And wondered what would happen if he fell overboard. If Inky pushed him. What lay in the depths? How far would he swim, until he was exhausted? And float?

Forever. You could wander endlessly forever here. Without land in sight. Without any clue but for the stars where you were.

So entranced was Wil that he didn’t realize Inky was grinning at him until he looked up. And she nodded.

“It’s not beauty as landfolk understand it. It’s terror. The deeps. They call. They call to me and any [Sailor]. Look.”

She pointed down the railing. And Wil saw. More than one [Sailor] on duty was just staring. Consumed by the grand, terrible sight.

“And here I thought you liked the sea’s beauty.”

“What beauty? This is it. The sea’s as lovely as a blade. Without the danger—there’d be nothing.”

The Drowned Woman smiled. The [Storm Sailor] looked into the horizon with a kind of longing. Fear and expectation. And Wil followed her gaze.

How deep? How deep? What lay beneath? He remembered being a boy and wondering the same thoughts when he rode with his family on Kallinad ships. And he—understood. A bit of the fascination.

The sea. It stretched before him. But he could see nothing of what lay beneath the waves. Wil remembered. A vast, murky emptiness. Terrifying. And yet—there were other things too. He looked at Inky. And as he did, the water moved.

At first, it looked just like the waters. A shimmering, giant mass of something on the hull. Wil stared at it, perplexed. The dark waters had birthed a cloudy, half-opaque…gelatinous thing. It had latched onto the hull. And it was moving.

Slowly, up the side of the ship. Wil stared at it. He saw two protruding things appearing. And then—light.

Something like organs, lighting up inside the body. Two blob-like antennae. Glowing with interior light. Wil realized he was staring at a slug. It rolled up the side of the ship, surprisingly quickly.

Oh, and it had a mouth. And in the mouth were rows and rows of rotating—teeth? Wil saw the slug rear up as it went over the decks. It lunged at him, coiling and expanding. Half again as large as—

“Get back! Sea Slug!”

Inky yanked him back. Wil fell backwards and felt a huge, slimy, weight, like filled water skin but far more massive crush his legs. He felt the pain, felt it squirming. And then he felt reality come back.

“Sound the alarm! We’re under attack! Sound the alarm! Port-side! Sea Slugs!”

Inky howled. She drew a cutlass and slashed twice. Her blade sank into the slug’s body, scattering some of its fluids. But it was huge and the blows seemed to do nothing. She dragged back Wil with one hand. He felt something—her suction cups—tightening on his skin, adding to her grip.

Then—her right, octopus-leg, tensed. Inky pushed off the deck and jumped back with him. The slug undulated forwards. Wil scrambled back as shouting erupted from the front of the deck. Someone began to ring the bell. The slug opened its mouth and oozed forwards. Wil saw more glistening shapes appearing over the railing.

“Sea Slugs! Where’s the Captain!?”

“All hands! Get up you idiots! GET UP HERE AND FIGHT!”

Inky spat black ink towards the slug. It hit the gel antennae and the slug paused. But it tried to bite again. It was—fast! Not like a regular slug! The body was a lot more compact, and it moved like—

Wil reached for his sword. He drew it, shakily. He was no [Blademaster]. But he knew how to fight. His sword was enchanted and he circled left, slashing at the slug’s side. He saw the tip of his sword open the thing’s side. But like Inky’s blade, it was just superficial. The slug was thick and it’s organs, while visible, weren’t easily reachable. And—

It turned, biting. Wil saw the rotating jaw of teeth, jerked backwards.

“Stay back!”

Inky shouted at him. She was slashing as she advanced, using her octopus leg to change her position quickly—it was far stronger than her Human leg and let her leap from spot to spot. Wil saw more [Sailors] fighting. He backed up and the slug came at him.

Strike, strike—it was able to coil and lunge like a snake! Wil cursed. He reached for one of the expendable scrolls he didn’t have. And he tripped backwards. The slug reared up.

“Slugs? Damn.”

Merrik towed Wil back. A feathered shape exploded past Wil’s head. Peki kicked the slug back and Wil saw the huge body smack across the deck. The [Martial Artist] landed and punched into the slug’s body. Wil saw her fists tear straight through the membrane. Peki yanked out a bundle of organs.

“Ew.”

That was all Wil could think to say. But the slug was still moving. It writhed, snapping at Peki. She shed the glistening innards as she dodged backwards. She kicked and punched it again, tearing out more organs. But it refused to die easy.

And more were coming. Dozens and dozens of slugs were pouring over the sides of the ship. But The Emerald Signet was awake. Merrik grinned at Wil.

“Hey, Wil! Get behind us! Peki! Back up! [Giant’s Hammer]!”

He roared as he charged. Peki jumped back and for a second Merrik’s hammer rose and fell.

The deck shook. The slug exploded . Merrik turned, grimacing; he had the innards all over his body.

“Grandfather’s hammers! It’s in my beard! Peki, did you hit the brain?”

“Thought I did. Kept moving.”

The Garuda complained. Wil staggered forwards. Then he shouted.

“Peki! Merrik! Behind you!”

The two turned. Six slugs were crawling over the railings. Merrik swore.

“Damn. Wil, back up! We’ve got—”

“Starboard! Where’s Captain Lasc?”

Inky pointed. The students turned. Two dozen slugs had taken the railing and were flanking the [Sailors]. Wil stared about. They were being flooded by the slugs! He saw a [Sailor] slashing with a sword, but he was outmatched. The slug fell on him and bit—the man cried out, looking shocked as he tried to get away. Wil raced forwards, stabbing. He hit something in the slug’s body but it refused to get off the man. Merrik and Peki were battling the ones around them.

“Wil! Watch your left!”

The [Lord] rolled just in time. A second slug dove at him. He saw more figures dashing on deck. A familiar bellowing voice roared.

“Clear the way!”

Venaz had his armor on. And this time he carried no sword and shield, but a battleaxe. He charged as the slugs oozed towards Wil. One reared up as the Minotaur, eyes glowing red, raised his axe with a roar of fury.

Venaz swung horizontally towards the slug’s midsection. He cleaved through the organs, the body—the slug’s torso fell to the ground, shaking. The Minotaur turned. He saw another slug, brought his axe down vertically and chopped through the slug, into the deck.

“Green hells! What are these things?”

A voice from behind Wil. He saw Yerranola, armed with a glowing hatchet. Her blade was enchanted with fire and she hacked into the slug attacking the [Sailor], raising steam as she did.

“Get it off him!”

Feshi was behind Yerra. She had a shortbow and loosed an arrow into a slug. But it did nothing.

Venaz on the other hand—he saw the [Sailor], and punched through the slug’s body. He began ripping out the organs. Yerra copied him. Her thin arms bulged and she and Venaz hurled the slug off the [Sailor].

The man was alive. But his shoulder was a mass of blood and slime. Wil looked about.

“Fuck all of this! They’re hard to kill!”

Peki was punching and kicking slugs as Merrik smashed slugs with his hammer. The Garuda whirled.

“[Launch Kick].”

She hit a rearing slug. The entire frame of the monster flew over the railing. Merrik grinned.

“That’s the way! [Ram’s Charge]!”

He smashed into another slug with his shoulder, blasting it into the railing. Peki jump-kicked it off the railing. But more kept coming up.

“He’s hurt. How bad?”

Feshi was leaning over the injured [Sailor]. The man was gasping.

“Can’t feel a thing. I don’t feel—it bit me?”

He was staring at them, in shock. The [Strategists] turned as a voice roared from the prow.

“All hands, repel these monsters! [Ship Spell: Floor of Impalement]!”

Captain Lasc pointed. A section of the deck erupted as huge, six-foot high spikes shot out of the wood. They impaled the slugs fighting the sailors there. The [Captain] whirled. His enchanted shortsword speared a slug through the stomach. His gauntleted fist flashed, tearing into the body.

“[Rallying Position]! [Attack Formation]! Don’t let them surround you! Surround them! Spells first, you idiots! Spells!”

Delivan was standing in front of the cabin. He’d replaced his crossbow for a wand and the [Sailors] were forming up around him. [Storm Sailors], like Inky were dueling the slugs while the lower-level ones pushed back in numbers, hacking the slugs apart.

But there were a lot of them. Wil looked around. Focus. He saw Feshi shouting, trying to pull the man belowdecks. Yes—but she’d lost focus of the battle. They were [Strategists]! Wil tried to find a way towards Delivan and Lasc. They needed his Skills!

“Yerra, help me get towards Lasc!”

Wil pointed. The Selphid turned. She was looking around as Venaz finished off the slugs he’d bisected. Even in pieces, they kept moving until he hacked them up even further. Yerra looked at Wil and shook her head.

“No! Get below!”

“What?”

“Get belowdecks! Help Feshi! We’ll send the wounded your way! Block the doors!”

The Selphid pointed. Wil shouted back.

“What about you!? We’re [Strategists]—”

A hand grabbed Wil’s shoulder. Merrik shouted.

“We’re [Commanders]! She’s a Selphid! Get below before we kick you down there! Use your Skills from afar—Venaz!”

The Minotaur wasn’t listening. As Merrik and Yerra forced Wil and Feshi towards the belowdecks, the Minotaur raised his axe.

“With me! Form up! You, you, you! Now!”

He pointed to Inky, Merrik, and Peki as well as a dozen [Storm Sailors]. They looked at him and fell in. Venaz roared as they charged the largest group of slugs.

“[Unstoppable Advance]! [Enhanced Strength]!”

“[Battalion of Glory]!”

“[Fleetwind Feet].”

Merrik and Peki added their Skills to the mix. Wil saw the group’s weapons glowing, and accelerate—they hit the first slugs and the monsters exploded. Venaz and his team began hacking through the starboard side of the ship as Lasc saw and put his men to the port side.

“Wil! Below!”

“But—fine! [Unit: Ram’s Charge]! [Unit: Lucky Dodge]!”

Exasperated, unable to argue, Wil pointed. Venaz grunted as his group charged and smashed another group of slugs. Another group of [Sailors] leapt back, avoiding the slugs with unnatural ability for a moment.

“[Instantaneous Reload].”

Feshi pointed at a group of [Sailors] with crossbows. Then she and Wil were dragging the sailor below. Yerranola took charge of the stairwell, calling [Sailors] around her and holding the ground.

“We should be above. Helping direct the battle—”

Wil panted. The [Sailor] was asking how bad it was. Trying to move. Both Gnoll and Human told him to stop moving. He stopped.

“Lasc has it. And there are enough [Strategists] above. The slugs stand no chance. Help me with him! He’ll bleed out without help!”

The Gnoll growled at Wil. Chastened, Wil reached for a potion. He stared at the [Sailor]’s wounds at last.

A big chunk of his shoulder was gone. Wil had seen injuries, but this was new on him. Countless micro-serrations from the giant slug’s teeth. And—the healing potion wasn’t working right.

“I tried a potion. It didn’t work. What do you feel?”

Feshi was feeling at the man’s head. He was pale, sweating.

“I—I can’t feel the bite. How bad is it?”

“No pain?”

“It itches.”

The two [Strategists] looked at each other. Wil’s mind raced. Feshi turned to him.

“Toxin of some kind.”

He agreed.

“Numbing. It’s interfering with the healing, clearly. What about our antitoxin lessons?”

The Gnoll knew more about toxins than he did. Feshi thought, as above there was an explosion and shouting.

“Hot water. We’ll try washing it clean.”

Slime was covering the man’s arm. As Wil found a pot and filled it with water, Feshi grabbed it. The Gnoll closed her eyes. The pot began to bubble at once.

“What the—gah!”

Wil burned his hand on the metal handle. It was hot! He stared at Feshi.

“[Shaman] class. Pour it on him!”

The hot water began to move the mucus. As it did, the [Sailor] began to feel the pain.

“Dead gods, Kraken’s teeth! My arm! It hurts, it—”

“Hold still. We’ll try healing you!”

This time the potion did more. The numbing toxin was still getting in the way, but it wasn’t as deadly as pure poison. Still—it made healing harder. Wil and Feshi stayed for a few more seconds. Then they raced abovedecks.

More [Sailors] were coming down, bitten, injured. But the entire ship was up and armed. Three hundred men and women, fighting. And the [Strategists]. And Lasc. He was triggering…spells? From his ship. And they were slaughtering the slugs; they weren’t the highest caliber of monster.

…The only problem was that they kept coming.

“We’ve killed at least a hundred of them! And they keep climbing on!”

“Move the damn ship! Wil! Feshi, I told you to stay back!”

Yerra shouted. A slug had eaten part of her leg, but she didn’t even notice. Feshi aimed her bow left and right.

“[Bursting Arrow].”

She pulled, loosed. Her arrow glowed. It sank into a slug’s midsection and detonated. But two climbed up as the first one rained down. Wil stared at her.

That was a spell. [Shaman]? But the crisis was becoming apparent.

Venaz was literally striding down the deck, hacking slugs in two. Merrik and Peki were smashing slugs with ease. But. They. Kept. Coming.

“We can’t move the ship, Captain! We’re caught in something!”

Delivan was shouting as Wil and Feshi made their way down the center of the deck. The [Storm Captain] was looking around. His clothing was covered in slime and he’d downed a dozen slugs. But now he was frowning.

“The damn things are in the water. There might be thousands. Captain, they’ll sink the vessel!”

The [First Mate] was looking worried. But Lasc was glancing around.

“Get me Inky or that Garuda. Tell them to climb up and spot!”

He pointed up. Delivan whirled.

“Inky! The crow’s nest!”

The [Storm Sailor] heard. She abandoned her fighting and ran as fast as she could with her ungainly gait towards the mast. She was slow on the ground. But she swarmed up using the suction cups on her hands—and feet. Wil saw her disappear upwards. He turned.

“[Rapid Retreat]! Pull back from that spot! Feshi, covering fire—”

He began bellowing orders, taking charge of a group of [Sailors]. Lasc glanced at him, but let the two [Strategists] and Delivan command his men. He was staring over the sides of the ship. Searching. And then—

Inky slid down from the crow’s nest, shouting wildly.

“Captain! The port side! A hundred paces in the water! Pink glow!”

“Ah.”

The [Storm Captain]’s eyes narrowed. He strode over to the wheel and turne