Limitless Seas 2, Chapter 24.

Chapter 24.

Larson looked over the new ballista mounted on the bow with his gunner, Dredge. Bug Bartholomew had completed it earlier and while Larson hoped it would soon be replaced with a cannon of some sort, for the time being, it was their only siege weapon. The last of the supplies were being transferred over and they would be ready to sail as soon as that was complete. He would bring twenty of their most capable crew, and every officer except for Tarley.

Back at the docks, a dark cloaked figure waved and tried to push his way past the guardsmen who were good at blocking anyone other than the crew from trying to come aboard. Larson realized it was that Narbos guy he had rescued from the imps, so he motioned for the guards to let him through.

“Captain Larson, might I have a quick word with you?” Narbos asked.

“I don’t see why not, but make it quick, we’re about to cast off,” Larson replied.

“Very well, here’s the quick version,” Narbos said pulling Larson aside so the other crew wouldn’t hear. “The spells protecting my true nature are normally difficult to pierce, but it seems at least one of the temples in this backwater has a cleric powerful enough to see through my ruse. Of course, it had to be one whose faith deems all undead as a scourge and she has riled up a good portion of her followers enough that they’re combing the town for me. Perhaps you wouldn’t mind giving me a ride out of this place?” Narbos said, looking over his shoulder for pursuit.

“I’m not going that far, we’re just taking a trip around the island to test out some repairs we made,” Larson said, not willing to tell Narbos the true reason for their trip.

“That’s fine, the cleric is using a tracking spell of some sort and I’m willing to bet that if I’m far enough away from this place, it’ll lose the scent. She may be a very devout member of her faith, but I doubt she commands that much power. While I’m sure I could deal with the problem directly, I’m just as sure that the town wouldn’t be too keen on me slaughtering a sizeable portion of a temple’s clergy,” Narbos told him. The undead necromancer was in a bind, but it wasn’t exactly Larson’s problem.

“I saved you from torture and brought you here, but I didn’t sign up to protect you for the rest of your life. I’m not rising myself or my crew because you’ve had a dustup with the locals. What’s in this for me and my crew if we help you? I’m not running a charity organization,” Larson asked, not very excited to risk himself more than he had to for someone that was essentially a stranger.

“You know I arrived with nothing; I have no coin to pay you. Perhaps something else could be worked out, I am a powerful mage, and I don’t see that you currently employ any mages on either of your vessels,” Narbos said.

“I have some magic of my own, but I do admit another mage would be handy to have. A necromancer isn’t exactly the first choice for a ship’s mage, however. I need someone that can use their magic to control the wind and sea or hurl fireballs and the like at an enemy vessel. I’m sure your magic is good enough, but I don’t think it’s the best fit for a privateer,” Larson told the necromancer, curious how he would respond to the rejection.

“What could be better than a necromancer? I can hurl death itself at an enemy vessel, and not only that, once part of their crew is slain, I can raise them to fight on our side. Imagine that in the middle of a battle, the enemy crew has to fight not only our ship but also their reanimated crewmates. Oh, and another little-known fact about necromancy, we’re masters of dead flesh, but it goes deeper than that. We’re masters of dead remains of all kinds and what is a ship made of? It’s made of dead trees is it not? I can patch a hole in the ship faster than your crew can, and if can get my hands directly on an enemy vessel, I can rot away its hull,” Narbos offered.

Larson hadn’t thought of that, the man would have powerful offensive spells, but helping with emergency repairs would be just as valuable. He would be useful, but the real question would be whether or not he could trust him, and while Larson didn’t know as much about this world as he would like, an undead necromancer didn’t strike him as the poster child for an upright citizen. Then again, he was a naga with a career that skittered just on the legal side of piracy. The other negative would be that whoever this cleric was, she might make trouble for him down the line.

“Why don’t we do this, we’ll sign you on for a temporary basis. You work for me and do as I say, and in return, we keep you out of trouble. The Sea Venom might be gone for a few days, and during that time, we can both see if this will work out. If either decides to part ways, I’ll pay you a fair wage for the time you were aboard, and at least that should be enough to buy you passage to somewhere that isn’t as hostile toward you,” Larson offered. It gave them both an out, and he would get a chance to work with another mage. Shada had magic, but her shamanistic spells operated differently than his own, maybe Narbos could help him hone his craft. Keeping him aboard and paying him a bit of coin was a fair trade for that.

“Well, Captain Larson, I think we have an agreement to the terms of my employment,” Narbos said, shaking his hand. Whatever enchantment hid his true nature also masked the feel of his touch, the hand felt exactly like that of a living human would, not at all like the cold dead flesh that was the man’s true form. Larson was a bit curious what Narbos looked like under the spell of concealment, but not enough to press the issue.

“Good, we’re about to cast off, and hopefully, you can’t be tracked once we put some distance from this temple,” Larson said.

“Yes, I would be surprised if whatever cult of the light this woman serves is willing to expend the effort to track down a single undead necromancer that isn’t causing any trouble,” Narbos said.

“We both better hope that’s the case,” Larson replied as the lines were cast off and the ship rowed itself back from the dock. They made their way slowly out of the harbor, and while Narbos made a tour of the ship, Larson checked in with Cassia.

She was now level three and while Larson hadn’t unlocked any new abilities from that, she had expanded her reach to cover just about three-quarters of the vessel. Her scales protected the exterior of the ship and inside the interior spaces she had already permeated, the wood looked clean and new, without any of the old stains and decay that a vessel this age would normally have. Cassia now only required 60% of his mana pool, and the mana recharge rate had also increased in line with the amount of available mana. Regen was still slow, but not quite the snail's pace it had been when she had first bonded to the vessel.

The abandoned Buxton estate was on the northwestern side of the island and Larson charted a course that followed the western shore of Stratwall Harbor. While the island was named after the town and the harbor it contained, it was a sizeable landmass, large enough to make the place self-sustaining with farmland as well as hold a modestly sized forest for the lumber necessary to run a port town. The majority of the shoreline was rugged and rocky, many portions of it blocked by steep cliffs. Just outside the harbor, Larson could see work teams digging into the side of one cliff, cutting stone blocks to be used in one of the many construction projects for the growing town.

There were few places to approach the shoreline safely in anything other than a small ship’s boat. A few farms and tiny villages dotted the shoreline, but in general, it was sparsely populated. The further north they went, the fewer signs of civilization they saw. Near the northern end of the island, a fishing village consisting of a few dozen buildings was seen, with several small craft plying the nearby seas. From the looks of their heavily laden nets, the fishing was good in this area. Larson was tempted to dive and explore, but there were likely dangers in the water he didn’t know about, not to mention the makon were still out there somewhere.

“There it is, captain, there’s the estate my father is loaning us,” Theo said, pointing out a cove that Larson figured was just deep enough for the Sea Venom to navigate. It would be tight quarters, but there was a small pier jutting out into the cove that they could tie up to. The estate itself seemed to consist of a collection of three stone buildings about two stories tall with a low wall connecting them. They furled the sails and began to row their way in.

“Careful, the pier looks like it’s seen better days,” Larson called out as they pulled in close. The pilings were starting to lean and the wooden planks that made up the walkway looked like they were nearly rotted away. The pair of the crew jumped onto the pier to tie off the Sea Venom, both nearly fell through as some of the planks gave way. He would need to have Bug Bartholomew take a look at it if they ended up staying for a while. For now, he had some of the crew examine the planking, marking those that were too far gone to walk on. It was going to take time before they could unload the supplies safely, and while they got to work, Larson jumped off the ship and swam to shore, wanting to get a look at his temporary home.

“Can I help you, sir?” A groundskeeper asked, obviously taken aback by the imposing ship pulling up to the dock and a naga jumping off and swimming to shore.

“Aye, I’m Captain Larson of the Sea Venom and Lord Buxton is having us use his estate for a short while,” Larson said. The man didn’t look convinced they should be there, but he was also too timid to put up much of a fuss.

“Lonnie, it’s good to see you again, how are things at the estate?” Theo asked as he picked his way across the damaged pier to join Larson and the groundskeeper.

“Milord, I’m sorry, I didn’t recognize you. I’m afraid the estate isn’t in any kind of condition to host you, but we’ll do what we can,” the groundskeeper, who Theo had called Lonnie, said.

“Don’t worry about that Lonnie, I know father has let this place go a bit and there’s not been enough staff to keep it up. We’ll likely only be here a few weeks at most while I work on a project with Captain Larson. Can you show him around?” Theo asked.

“That I can milord, Captain Larson, I’d be glad to show you the estate,” Lonnie replied. Larson could see the man wasn’t comfortable giving a tour, he had the tanned and rugged look of a man who worked outside, not one that would be giving estate tours to the lords and their visitors. It wasn’t much of an estate, really only the three buildings, with the largest one nearest the pier being the lord’s residence.

“I’m not insulting your work, Lonnie, but this place is kind of rundown, why would Lord Buxton let it become so dilapidated?” Larson asked as he noted the general state of neglect.

The manor house that the lord would have stayed in was dusty and only had a few pieces of furniture inside. It was worse with the other two buildings one of which was the servant’s quarters and the other being a kind of workshop and storage barn combination. Other than a small section of the servant’s quarters that Lonnie and his son Jacob occupied, the place looked like it would fall if a strong wind blew by. The wall connecting the three buildings was originally designed for defense, maybe from when Stratwall Harbor was a much wilder place than it was now. Several sections of the wall had collapsed and other than pile the rubble neatly, there had been no attempt at repair.

“I can answer that for you, captain,” Theo said, jumping into the conversation, much to the relief of Lonnie. “My father loves and loathes this place. He loves it as it represents how far my family has come, and he loathes it since it’s a reminder of the struggles and hardships he faced to become what he is today. The original home was burned to the ground by brigands, and after father rebuilt, pirates looted and burned it down a second time. The third time’s the charm, and we haven’t been burned out since. I think he would sell it, but some nostalgia keeps it in the family holdings even if he’s unwilling to spring for proper upkeep,” Theo offered.

“My apologies that I haven’t kept it up the way it should be kept, but it’s only my boy and myself here looking after things,” Lonnie said.

“With my crew on hand, we’ll be glad to help you fix things up. We’ve got just over twenty people to house and while we’ve brought supplies, I didn’t plan on any major construction projects,” Larson said. They had the manpower to make the place livable, and he didn’t mind having his crew pitch in and help the beleaguered Lonnie.  Getting the cannon project rolling was his main concern, but he also wanted his crew comfortable when they were ashore.

“We’ve got plenty of building supplies on hand, tools too, what I lacked was hands to use them,” Lonnie said, showing Larson the storage barn and workshop area. There were neat stacks of lumber, hand tools, rope, and more importantly, a decent-sized forge.

“This is good, Theo, get a detail working on the main house, I want it cleaned and patched up for everyone to have a place to sleep inside. Another crew can work on shoring up the pier. Bug Bartholomew will need to look at it, but we can at least replace the rotted boards and secure the pilings, so they don’t fall over. I suspect the wagons will be here around sundown, so let’s do what we can before they get here,” Larson ordered.

“I should mention, Lonnie, that father had me join Captain Larson’s as part of his crew for the time being,” Theo said as the poor groundskeeper look aghast at a naga sailor ordering around his lord.

“Not my place to say one way or the other, but it’s good to see you take to the sea, milord. It does the family proud, it does,” Lonnie offered.

They all got to work, and Larson took some time to scout out the area around the estate. The fishing village was a few miles away, and according to Lonnie, it was their closest neighbor. Cannon fire would likely be heard from that far away, but whether the distant sounds would be enough to draw nosy neighbors remained to be seen. Once the wagons arrived, he would have some of the gnolls patrol outside the walls to keep any curious onlookers at bay.

The foliage around the estate had been cut back by Lonnie, but about a hundred yards past the wall the land was overgrown tall grass and a few stunted trees, plenty of cover for anyone wishing them ill to approach under. If they had time, he’d have things cut back another fifty yards, just to be safe. A road was cut through the foliage and the groundskeeper had made at least some effort in keeping it clear. Larson did spot a small draw a bit past the estate where the sloping ground would provide a safe firing range should they need it. The terrain would also help to muffle the sounds of cannon fire.

By dusk, the main home had been made clean and livable again. A detail would remain aboard the ship, but several of the crew opted to sleep on dry land. As Gilroy started preparing the evening meal, the wagons finally arrived. They had picked up an extra wagon somewhere and it was stuffed with more supplies and what appeared to be stacks of the steel ingots that he had traded to the smith at the end of their last voyage.

“Hey, Larson, an interesting place you’ve found here. The big guy said you’d pay well for my work, so you better make this trip worth my while,” Felica said, nudging Bug Bartholomew. Larson was pleasantly surprised to see that Felicia Burrowton had joined them, he had hoped she would help, but didn’t really know if she would be willing to set aside her shop for the chance to work on something that may never come to fruition.

“We’ve got plenty of work for you and if things go as planned, you’ll be the first smith to create a new weapon that just might dominate the seas. I’d like to see any of the other smiths in Stratwall Harbor claim to have done anything close to that,” Larson replied. He knew she was angry over the dismissive nature of her peers, most of them spreading rumors that her work was subpar.

“Yeah, we’ll see about that, I was talking with Bug Bartholomew on the way over and we’ve got a few things we want to try out first thing in the morning,” Felicia replied.

“Good, I want a prototype read as soon as possible. Be careful, though, what you’re working with could destroy us all if handled incorrectly,” Larson warned. The sand they were using was more stable than he remembered gunpowder being, but a single careless move could still result in disaster. Larson had no intention of blowing himself up this early in his new life.