I’d thought that carracks were the worst ship left on the seas when it came to maneuverability and speed. It seems I was wrong: whatever the Final Internment made up for in durability, it had lost in maneuverability. I considered it a credit to her former crew that they had managed to make any headway with her, and if they hadn’t been okay with shutting in ‘less-desirables’ below her decks than I would have regretted the removal of their expertise from the world.

Even capitalizing on the currents that only I and Davy Jones could, it took three weeks longer to make our stops than it should have. That was with my own 19 levels of seamanship plotting courses and manning the helm, and with a summoned crew of constructs with a journeyman aptitude of about level 10. I’d dare say that I could sail any ship on the seas, but the hulk I was managing vexed me. If I’d needed any excuse for disposing of the ship besides the thrice-inconvenient perk ‘Bloodied Meeting Ground’ than I had it now.

If we had encountered a ship capable of carrying so many people, I would have captured it and made the change the same day. Unfortunately, while the Median Ocean was filled with patrolling ships the belly of the Passive Ocean that we’d just crossed had been nearly empty of them. There was a single galleon that could have sufficed, and it was a merchant ship I refused to take.

The first day of travel was done without claiming the Internment, we instead saw everything of value transferred over from the Roc’s Eye and I submerged the faithful little cutter before leaving her behind. That gave me more time to establish relationships within the crew before they soured thanks to the Internment’s inconvenient perk.

My new alchemist Mouse oversaw the dissection of the kraken remains with my blessing. When I’d sailed with whaling boats we’d brought extra containers with us in the holds to be assembled and filled at sea. The Internment had no such supplies, so I terrified the prisoners by repurposing other barrels and containers the hulk did have. Why were they terrified? Because they didn’t know that any ship of mine had unending barrels of fresh water and hardtack included, and pouring fresh water on the decks would be a sin on any other vessel.

Despite my time harvesting whales and other monsters, I had no skill with dissection or knowledge on the value of different parts. I was a sailor and had only served as manual labor at that part of the chore. Mouse, on the other hand, seem to have a vision ability that let him gauge a components usefulness at a glance. Gerald had no such ability, but didn’t miss the opportunity to save as much Kraken meat as he could justify to experiment with.

The orcs were already all about eating mighty foes, and after Gerald’s creative descriptions of what he could do with fillets of Kraken meat there was no need for Mouse to convince anyone else to get smelly.

Drese finally got his promised rest, and slept for over a day and spent the better part of a week recovering. During that time – to my surprise – he found a kindred spirit in Marcus Renshaw. I’d have thought the effusive generalist wouldn’t get along with the reserved life master, but I was dead wrong. They both had a passion for studying magical aspects and debating theory, Marcus had simply studied broadly while Drese had honed a single discipline.

I also had a suspicion that as my magical mentors they had commonality in discussing me, but I never caught either of them even hinting at such talks so my paranoia remained unfounded.

Hali and I finally had the opportunity to catch up, and our dynamic was … surprising. Reflecting on it, I realized that we had become friends – to the point where she trusted me with her life and I credited her with the hopes that had planted the seeds of redemption – without ever truly getting to know each other.

Our time together had been on the Wind Runner. She had first been pressured by Michaels to make awkward inquiries into my loyalties. I had in turn uncovered her as a spy instead of a sailor, and instead of being celebrated had been sternly warned by Michaels to keep my trap shut.

Thus had our unlikely link been forged.

We hadn’t started sharing all about ourselves, though, and now continued to surprise each other with revelations of our true selves. Hali had a habit of being circumspect and coy, but several times stopped herself and repeated “I am not a spy for the king any more” before giving me a straight answer. She was learning to unmask herself with me like I’d learned to do with Marcus – the difference being I’d been wearing my cover identity for a short time while she’d never known anything else.

Even her name was one she chose to keep since it’s what I knew her by. Apparently she’d been born with the name ‘Desdemona’ but had used it so infrequently that she now had the ability to change her name at will – as opposed to me needing a significant event to rename myself.

She shared of her imprisonment reluctantly, and only after I’d shared some of my own harsher memories. She had never intended to use the communications device she’d given me, it had only ever been the gift she’d said. However, when she discovered what was awaiting her, her resolve fled and the communications orb with me was her only chance. She was surrendered by the king, called on to perform the sacrifice of service included in the oath she’d sworn as a girl. It seemed that all nations – even allies – spied on each other, and these spies being discovered ranged from being a faux-pas to a cause for battle. The difficulty with the spy was being caught in the middle, as after all the things Hali had done in service to the crown she’d been forced into a position where the crown’s best option was to do away with her.

Handing her over to a foreign power was a risk, but Hali had an ally in the former princess – now queen of Oorkom – who intervened on her behalf. It was arguable that an execution in Andros was a kinder fate, but the queen’s intervention with her father had allowed Domenic to rescue her.

That in itself was a sticky part for us. They knew Hali had signaled me – painful interrogation combined with her oath had wrung everything from her – but they hadn’t seemed sure of how much stock to place in our relationship. With a superficial analysis of our history, we wouldn’t have gotten along if not for my inexplicable crush on her aboard the Wind Runner followed by her intervention in the Broken Isles. What kind of assets should they put towards the unlikely event I tried to save her?

Especially when I was showing myself highly adept at picking off any military ship outside of a convoy.

Hali didn’t know how they’d tried to trap me until I told her of the vampires, they didn’t discuss the details of the trap with the bait. Apparently the vampire clan on Antarus had a debt to the royal family. So long as the debt was in place, they were limited in their feeding and expansion. Since the king had promised them he’d hold the debt fulfilled if they killed me, the vampires jumped at the chance. The king would have opened his shores to vampiric activity, but the nation saw me as a threat to their much-vaunted naval control at a time when that naval might was the only thing keeping them from being swallowed by Makam.

I was learning all about how the empire of Makam really was the unseen boogeyman in everyone’s closet, dismissed until it had its hands around your throat.

After three weeks, my unwanted human passengers were dropped off on the coast of Andros. Or at least, what was once Andros. Hali educated me on some of the more recent war news while we sailed. The nation of Andros had been regarded as something of a puppet state for months, but had recently become an official vassal of the empire of Makam.

In the world at large, that made the other nations of the human confederacy very nervous, as the empire wasn’t being very subtle about its desires to ‘reintegrate’ the ‘lost colonies’. Oorkom actually had to stop burning Nilfheim’s countryside long enough to bolster its southern borders. Antarus was more worried about Makam taking over their trade monopolies. The jarls of the Broken Isles didn’t care about any nations or empires so long as they reigned supreme over their own islands.

Here, off the coasts of the state of Andros (name changes were still being argued over) we passed three ships belonging to the coast guard and one presumed smuggler ship: the opposite ratio I’d grown to expect. The pirates of Tulisang had always been at least half-revolutionaries, but pirate and revolutionary alike were being smothered as Makam colors reinforced the coast in their bid for expansion.

My deposit of former criminals and slave-fodder would have their chance at life. Some had even waved back at the Final Internment as they slipped into the coastal jungle, though most had soured on me because of the relationship debuff non-allies and I shared. They didn’t have as many humans as they’d set sail with; I’d recruited a handful, but more I’d had executed for their crimes. Really, they should have faced the headsman back on Antarus, and I could only imagine someone’s pockets had been lined to start sending criminals to the slave auctions since the blend of rapists and serial killers I’d found were detested by every society I’d encountered.

Further north we required the cover of darkness to make our second stop. The nation of Carr had been pacified and was under human occupation, the native chortin living as non-citizens. The battlefield had moved further north to the grand forests where the elven strategists had once again stymied further expansion with their mix of guerilla tactics and darkening the skies with arrow storms.

The elves might help the non-human passengers I carried, but then they might not. I let the group vote on location and the majority carried it: Carr would be their destination, occupied or not. There weren’t many places that would be hospitable to them left, and they were exclusively on the other side of the ocean. I was willing to carry and free them, but not to wherever they wanted to go.

The band of non-humans that Gnar escorted to shore was also smaller than they’d started out with, though this time it was because I’d found more to recruit. Gnar had – through days of consecutive battles and creative strategies – incorporated the orcs from other tribes under his banner. He’d also branched out and recruited other races, which had almost caused him problems until he pointed at me and said they already had a human warlord. Now I had a set of Madu archers, a pair of chortin duelist brothers, and the halfling Tarzor Stoutfoot – nicknamed Tarball after a self-inflicted ‘incident’.

Most of the Chortin who’d been imprisoned wanted to leave to their homeland, but most of the Madu had wanted to stay. The trouble had been I wouldn’t take just anyone, and they had to have skills to offer me. I fudged my standards for a few exceptions and called it ‘room for growth’ such as the boy who’d provided for Hali and who she’d begged me to take on, but there were many I sent into Carr to brave their own path despite their requests. I couldn’t manage them all.

With the personnel pared down, I set my eyes on the next goal. By design, they were close.

The Death’s Consort had been out of my hands for too long.

Death's Consort (Cursed)

Ship Class

Carrack

Captain

Burdette/Rhistel

Ship Durability

,205/34,000

Ship level

Cursed Status:

Voice of the Crew

From Nothing

Blood Payment