Limitless Seas, Chapter 2.

Chapter 2.

They pulled up alongside their assigned docks without any further incident, and after the ships were tied off, the crew went about the business of securing the vessels for their stay in port. A couple of the town guards walked over to investigate the new arrivals, waving once they recognized Larson and his ship. During their last stay, Larson had flipped them a few scales to keep an eye on things when his crew was away. The ship’s cook, Gilroy, also made sure that any guards on duty during mealtimes got a healthy portion of whatever he had been cooking.

“Shada, gather the officers to my cabin if you don’t mind, we have some business to take care of,” Larson said, loud enough for the crew to hear. They were working hard, but almost all of them kept looking to the officers and to the nearby city, anxious to get paid and have a chance to cut loose. It didn’t take long for the officers to gather; they were likely as anxious as the crew to go out on the town.

“Tarley, how are the ship’s ledgers looking?” Larson asked.

“Fine, sir, we’ve got plenty of coin, but we still have to dispose of the cargo and figure out what we’re going to do with the Lost Soul,” Tarley advised.

“I know the crew is getting antsy, so get them their share of the coin, and see to it the officers are paid as well. Let everyone know that all the crew that arrived with us are due a share of the cargo and the prize ship, but those will have to be liquidated before they can collect. Once their purses are full, cut them loose, but keep a few behind to keep an eye on things. The guards are friendly enough, but since we just arrived, there may be one of the gangs willing to risk things for a crack at our strongbox. See to it the crew remaining behind get some extra coin for having to serve the first watch,” Larson ordered.

“Any assignments for us?” Ibn asked. Except for crewman Quix who had been promoted to marine due to his skill with the crossbow, Ibn’s warriors were new to sea life, but they were skilled warriors.

“Yes, we’re all going to be busy, but you can take some time for yourselves as well. We’ll plan on gathering back here tomorrow evening to go over what we need. I’ll get in touch with Lucian and see what he can do to help us move the cargo, and Shada, I’d like you and crewman Gilroy to also meet with Lucian to see about resupplying the larder while we’re in port. Ibn, you can take the prisoners to a bondsman named Ironhound, he’ll find some honest work for them and give us a few more coins to boot,” Larson ordered.

“Hey, we’s going to ug-sper-ah-ment,” Bartholomew blurted out.

“What my brother means to say is experiment, and yes, while we’re in port I would like to peruse the shops and see about some experimentation with various devices we’ve thought up,” Bug added. The two-headed ogre had been a crucial part of their success, and the seemingly simpleminded Bartholomew was an engineering genius. Bug was the more refined voice of the two, and the brains of the operation, but they were still ogres, always hungry and ready for a fight.

“You do that, but make sure you’re spending time working on the ships each day as well,” Larson advised.

“We’s will, I needs a new scorpion for the burnted one,” Bartholomew said, the ogre still a bit upset that the siege engine they had built for the ship was burned beyond repair by an enemy mage during the battle.

“Tarley, make some inquiries about the Lost Soul, see if there are any buyers. Worst case scenario, we keep her as a support ship, carrying more supplies and helping to haul away any loot we liberate from the pirates,” Larson offered.

“Where exactly are we going to find more pirates?” Ibn asked.

“I’m not sure, I’ll check with that nobleman Buxton, he seemed reasonable and happy with our efforts to get his son back. He might at least point us in the right direction. I don’t trust Lord Mox one bit, so we’ll steer clear of him if we’re able. If our noble benefactor isn’t any help, I’m sure we’ll dig up some word from the tavern dregs. A few free drinks can work wonders at times. For now, Ibn, work with Tarley and Shada to arrange for some of our marines to escort the various work parties,” Larson said, turning his attention back to the group. “So, our priorities are getting the crew paid and out on the town, getting resupplied and repaired, building up the crew, figuring out what to do with the Lost Soul, and finally, I’ll try to find us our next target,” Larson advised, ending the meeting.

“Fall in you bilge rat’s, Captain Larson’s going to put some coin in your hand,” Tarley belted out as soon as he left the cabin.

The crew of both ships cheered as they raced to the Sea Venom where Tarley had dragged a table out on the main deck to review the ledger and hand out the pay. Larson left him to it, he had no desire to try and balance the books, happy to let his first mate handle that task. He had handed off most of the bagged coin for Tarley to use, keeping the ducats and half the landsmen gold with him, along with a few handfuls of copper and silver for smaller purchases.

Larson wanted a good meal and a stiff drink, but really didn’t care for luxury items like the minotaur pirate Fabulous Fontaine had filled his cabin with, save for the nice desk he had pilfered. It would have been more beneficial for the pirate if he had improved his gear and seen to it that his crew was better prepared instead of buying trinkets. Larson would rather spend coin on improving the Sea Venom’s chances, instead of on a few fancy knickknacks to display in his cabin.

Once the crew was taken care of, Larson had a few stops to make. He wanted to check in with Lucian to see how his store was doing and plan for liquidating the cargo. He also wanted to visit the smith, the halfling Felicia, and work out a deal for new arms, armor, and fittings for his ships. Lots of metalwork was needed and while she was only one person, the diminutive blacksmith was very good at her job.

Another trip to the alchemist was on the list if he had any coin remaining after taking care of the ship. Larson wanted to begin stockpiling potions for everyone aboard. He didn’t want to take unnecessary losses just because he was trying to save a few coins. By the time Tarley was done handing out the pay, his ship’s coffers had taken a beating.

Funds:

Scales: 6,855

Fins: 1,107.

Landsmen Gold: 1277.

Ducats: 3.

It was mid-morning, and the harbor was already a busy place. Hungry and thirsty crews filled the nearest taverns. The places right off the dock were mostly dives that sold watered-down grog to those foolish enough or impatient enough to not walk a bit further for a better deal with more respectable clientele. His business partner Lucian would be the first stop. Lucian would need to know they were in port and start to plan for liquidating the cargo.

As Larson made his way from the docks deeper into town, he noticed a pair of toughs shadowing him for a while. Not one to shirk from a fight, Larson stepped into a nearby alleyway and waited for the two to make their move. The pair followed him, both drawing knives from their belts as they positioned themselves to block off Larson’s only means of escape. Pulling his spear and shield from void storage seemed to shock the pair of would-be muggers. A result of an almost failed experiment at the alchemist’s shop, Larson could now store and retrieve items with merely a thought.

“Do you really want to die today? Think long and hard before you take one step closer, I don’t give second chances,” Larson threatened. The pair looked toward each other, doubt and fear appearing on their faces in equal measure.

“No sir, my apologies, just thought you were someone else,” one of the men said, sheathing his daggers and backing away.

“Yeah, I get that a lot. So many naga slithering around the city, it’s easy to confuse us all. Be on your way, if I even catch a glimpse of you two again, you’re dead,” Larson told them.

The pair ran off as he moved back out of the alley and headed toward Lucian’s shop. It was strange, Larson had almost wanted the two thugs to attack, something about his new life and his new body craved the thrill of combat. He had fought in his old life, the brief glimpses of sea battles had told him that, but somehow, he didn’t feel like close combat was a part of those battles, and they were instead fought at a great distance. It was an impersonal way of battle, and Larson found he craved going toe to tail against a foe, testing his mettle and risking all for victory.

Once out of the dockyard area, the buildings and the people moving about were less seedy. More frequent guard patrols told him he was in a better part of town, not exactly a rich neighborhood, but a place where folks made enough to see that they and their families had somewhere safe and clean to live. Across from the storefront he owned with Lucian was a small café. Before visiting his business, Larson took time for a meal. It would be a good chance to see how the foot traffic was at the store, and he selected a table that looked over the street and his shop.

The place was just starting their afternoon service and the server recommended the seafood chowder. It turned out to be a good choice and not a dumping ground for dodgy fish leftovers as he feared. A creamy, thick broth held chunks of potato and bits of tender fish, along with a few vegetables to add some color. The chowder was accompanied by a small loaf of fresh, crusty bread and he also enjoyed a dark ale to accompany the meal. His new body was much more resistant to toxins, so Larson ordered a second ale, not feeling anything after two large mugs of the stout brew. Leaving a nice tip for the server was a must since he would likely visit the café often if the food was always this good.

As he approached his shop, Larson could see a new sign had been added to the establishment, Lucian had decided to call it the Privateer’s Provisions, a name he heartily approved of. Glass windows in front of the shop revealed a wide array of goods, most of which appeared to be focused on household and décor items that would likely appeal to the folks living nearby. A bell over the door rang out pleasantly as he entered, and he was encouraged to see several customers inside. Both Lucian and his assistant Kipper were hard at work helping guests, but both noticed him and started to excuse themselves from the customers before Larson waved them off to take care of what they were doing.

“Good to see you back, Larson. Was your voyage successful?” Lucian asked.

“We were able to finish our work,” Larson looked around to make sure there were no customers to overhear before continuing. “The two lordlings were rescued, and we even secured a prize, Furious Fontaine’s vessel, the Lost Soul. It’s got a cargo of steel and sorcerers’ sand we’ll need to sell-off. Do you have a warehouse lined up for our bulk cargo yet?” Larson asked.

“No, we haven’t had much need for it yet. The shop’s doing well enough and turning a profit, but so far, I’ve had more than enough space in the back of the shop for any excess stock we pick up. There are a couple of places nearby that I can check into leasing. Are you going to be in port long? If you are, it will give me more time and probably help us negotiate a better deal,” Lucian advised.

“I suspect it will be at least a week, we’ll need repairs and upgrades on the Sea Venom, as well as figure out what we’re going to do with the Lost Soul. I don’t suppose you have any contacts looking to pick up a former pirate vessel as a cargo ship?” Larson asked.

“No, that’s not the type of merchandise I usually deal in. I can make some inquiries if you like, but don’t expect much to come of it,” Lucian said.

“Don’t bother, we’ll figure something out, I may even keep it as a second vessel if I can spare the coin to find a crew for her. I did have a few trinkets from our voyage that you might be more interested in,” Larson mentioned as he started to pull out the things that he had taken from the pirate vessel. Fontaine had quite a lot of knickknacks, expensive tableware, and décor items for a pirate captain.

“Hmm, this is not bad. The quality is good, and they should fetch a strong price to the right buyer but finding the right buyer may take some time. Now, the dining sets will do quite well, as will the linens after a bit of scrubbing,” Lucian said, recoiling a bit from the musky stench that had been left on Fontaine’s bedding. Damp minotaur wasn’t a good smell.

“Sorry about that, not much to clean with other than sea water out there. Maybe you can see about getting us some kind of soap for that sort of thing. If I can keep the crew and their clothing clean, it should help to cut down on sickness and the like, not to mention it would improve the air quality quite a bit after a week at sea,” Larson added.

“I should have some in the shop, but I’ll place a larger order in case both ships are going to be out to sea for longer. My wife, Nyla, has been arranging for most of our stock. We’ve started to turn a profit, but so far, I’ve been throwing any profits back into the business. If you need coin immediately, I can try to figure something out,” Lucian told him, looking a bit uneasy at the fact he didn’t have a sack of coin to pass to his business partner.

“No, we’re good for now, and I’d rather you keep funding the shop’s growth. Maybe stash a small bit away somewhere safe, as an emergency fund,” Larson replied. Something nudged into his coils and Larson looked down to see Lucian’s young daughter, Millie, looking up at him, her doll clutched tightly.

“Hey there Millie, I see you and your friend are doing well,” Larson said with a smile.

“Did you really fight mean pirates like daddy said? If you need help, Lady Petunia can go with you,” Millie offered, holding her doll up to Larson.

“That’s very brave of Lady Petunia, but I think she had best stay here to help protect you. In fact, I think I have something from the pirate captain that you might like,” Larson told her. He had been saving one of the figurines from Fontaine’s desk for the kid, it was a mermaid made of iron with brightly painted features.

“Ohh, I get to keep this?” Millie asked, holding the figure up with reverence only a small child with a new toy can manage.

“Absolutely, and I expect you’ll come up with a good name for her before I see you again,” Larson told her. Millie scampered off to the back of the shop, ostensibly to introduce her new friend to the other toys and dolls she had surely collected now that her parents’ fortunes had changed for the better.

“Thank you for that, it’ll keep her out of trouble for the rest of the day. Is there anything else we needed to work on? If not, I’ll see about storing the iron and sorcerer’s sand. Might I suggest you see the blacksmith Felicia about that? She’s given us a fair price on any metalwork we’ve needed for the shop, mostly repairs to tableware and the like, but I’m sure you’ll need something more up her alley,” Lucian asked.

“Aye, my crew and officers will keep you busy gathering up provisions, so do what you can to steer them in the right direction, so we don’t get ripped off. Felicia was my next stop, we need more weapons and armor if I’m going to expand the crew,” Larson said. The halfling blacksmith wasn’t accepted by the other smiths, and despite her work being excellent, they spread rumors about the quality. Hopefully, they could work something out to benefit them both.

Making his goodbyes and leaving the shop, Larson made his way to dockyards where Felicia and several other smiths plied their trade. He was surprised when an ornate coach pulled up, something far too extravagant to be found in this part of the city. The coachman halted the team in front of Lucian’s shop and a man dressed in ridiculous finery exited the coach, holding a perfumed kerchief to his nose as if to keep the smell of the lesser inhabitants from offending him.

“Good Captain Larson, I presume?” The man said, nodding toward Larson.

“Yes, who exactly are you and how can I help you?” Larson asked.

“Why, I am Reginald Howe, chief administrator for Lord Mox, and you, my good man, are invited to an event this evening. The event is being held to celebrate the safe return of the two young lords, and your presence was requested due to your personal efforts in their rescue. A coach will be sent for you at sunset, you may bring one guest, and might I suggest, some more appropriate attire,” the man said with an arrogant tone that made Larson seriously think about throat punching him.

The last thing he wanted to do was go to some ball, but in his past life, Larson got the feeling he had often needed to attend such functions as part of his business. With a flourish, the man bowed and stepped back into the coach, the driver wasted no time in leaving, the team of large horses pulling the coach bullied their way past anyone in the street, gaining them more than a few curses, most of which were cut off abruptly when the saw Lord Mox’s livery.

“What did I just get myself into,” Larson whined, looking at the ornate envelope in his hand.