Startup 22: Diversification

Arodus 9

“Alright, boys.” Captain M’Dair bellowed. “I’ll want to know if you’re staying or not by this evening. Check in at least once a day so we know you’re alright.”

With that, the crew was dismissed and dispersed into the crowd at port. Port Peril was so very full of people that one could not reach out an arm without touching someone, at least on any of the major streets. Naomi grasped her mother’s hand, clinging so that they wouldn’t be driven apart by the crowds. She wondered if this place was awful and no one could escape, or so wonderful that everyone wanted to be here.

“We could start over here.” She needled in Garundi, “We have a little money. I’m sure we could find steady work.”

“Very little.” Lubo answered, shaking her head, “Just a little longer, dear. There is so much more for us here than a few silver pieces.”

“Please mother!” Naomi begged. “I don’t think that the devil woman’s offer is wise. Do you know what the northern spirit wants? What will it cost us?”

“Nothing but that I suffer his company for a year.” Lubo insisted. “It will be fine.”

The two women went into town as part of a herd, shadowing a few men in the crew. Naomi didn’t trust them, but it was better to be escorted by rough men if you expected to see dangerous people regardless. The tall green man wasn’t so bad.

Naomi started to question if she really wanted to stay here when the tide of people washed her past a group of hanging cages. Hardly anyone looked at the men within, and she understood why when one of them met her gaze. His eyes were entirely without hope, the corpses beside him bearing testament to his ultimate fate. These men died slowly, and no one cared.

Perhaps this place is not so very different from Goatshead.

••••••••••

My officers all had tasks to complete before we could leave, the most mundane of which would be resupply. Syl and Cog were headed into the nicer part of town, Sosima would be checking the marketplace, and Sandara would be bar crawling. Aaron, not being one for crowds, would hold down the ship just in case the dock guards could be bribed.

I earnestly hoped that prices would be substantially lower here than in Goatshead, but supply and demand could be a real bitch. Sure, Port Peril was substantially more stable and seemed to cater to the naval crowd, gaining in economy of scale, but that also meant that more than twenty times as many ships were present to take advantage of the situation.

That might work to my advantage as well; a constant churning mass of hopeful recruits was exactly what the doctor ordered. I had no illusions that all of my people were staying with me if they could go home. With that in mind, I disembarked with a small team consisting of Owlbear, Rosie, Conchobar, and Salyar. I wasn’t going to push anyone out onto the dock with a handshake and well-wishes, that wasn’t the kind of captain I wanted to be.

The fact that I might get bonus feats out of it is definitely helping me be the man I want to be, though. I’m not too proud to admit that.

Rowe trudged along next to a guilty looking Conchobar, occasionally shooting him murderous glances. Luckily Dierdre and Rosie had took it in shifts to stand directly in between the two, which diffused the tension somewhat. Of course, Dierdre was short enough that Rowe could still make eye contact with the poor gnome and give him a piece of her mind.

“You crew, Pearlteeth!” She complained. “Maybe good warchanter, if you try! Giving up too easy!”

“I don't think my heart could take another Bonewrack.” Conchobar said, quietly enough that Rowe might not have heard him speak.

“No other Bonewracks! Ghouls not even that scary anymore!” Rowe countered, proving her ears very sharp, “You fought at Bonewrack! Heart not break, even with chieftain body and no combat training. Even help! You save two!”

“Those men both died.” Conchobar said hollowly, “I didn’t save anyone.”

“Those men died later, not men next to them.” Rowe insisted stubbornly, “You save two. Not ones you heal, still save.”

“Knock it off, Rowe.” I said, looking over my shoulder. “I’m glad we had him as long as we did, you’re right, he pulled his weight just fine. This life isn’t for everyone, though, and I don’t want anyone to stay just because they were bullied into it.”

“Thanks.” Salyar said, “Maybe that one?”

We were walking along the docks, checking for Rahadoumi ships. We ran into a lot of false starts. One was a captured Rahadoumi trader like the Man’s Promise, currently owned by a squad of stony yellow faced hobgoblins. They accepted inquiries very professionally, but had no intention of heading north. Another was a renegade like Syl, who maintained a bit of patriotism abroad; he offered Salyar a job on the spot and a sympathetic ear, but no pathway home. As we cast our net ever wider, it kept coming up empty.

“Gods damn it.” I groused, “Isn’t a single godsdamned ship here headed out of the Shackles?”

“Port Peril is Shackles chief fortress.” Rowe answered with a roll of the eyes. “It eats everything. Sailors come because they have to, because old businesses and Bonefist here. If someone wants to buy anything but ships and supplies, they go somewhere else. If they want to sell to anyone but sailors, they go somewhere else.” (Rowe Knowledge History 14+5=19)

I groaned and gave Salyar a rueful shake of the head.

“We will keep looking while we are in town,” I said, “but I don’t think we will have much luck wandering around today. Consider what you’ll do if we can’t find you passage, eh?”

“Thank you.” He nodded, eyes downcast. “I understand you have other demands upon your time.”

“Good man.” I said, clapping him on the shoulder and turning. “Owlbear, any luck with the dock workers?”

“I saw friends at the docks.” He told me with a smile. “Mama will come to your ship.”

“We can go to your home if you’d like.” I offered. “We are going to be moving around town anyway. I doubt it would be too much trouble.”

“Mama said I’m not supposed to bring people home.” Owlbear informed me for the tenth time, “Not ever.”

“We might want to get him back to the ship, then.” Rosie suggested. “I know that if my mom found out where I was, she’d plow through the crowd to get there a few minutes faster.”

“Take Rowe for extra protection.” I ordered Rosie, “Dierdre and I can do the tavern circuit with Conchobar.”

I didn’t need a skill check to make it clear what I really meant; actual danger notwithstanding, my party was definitely more likely to be marked as prey.

Conchobar had been catching enough flak today and I was sick of telling Rowe off. She seemed largely immune to disapproval, and every time I told her to stop without backing it up weakened my authority.

I’m not sure if a firm hand would piss her off, but the way she talks about Dahk makes it pretty clear it wouldn’t reform her.

The two groups parted, taking Salyar and Owlbear back to the ship. Conchobar, Dierdre and I went tavern crawling, looking for the famous bard Conchobar Shortstone Senior.

••••••••••

Cog leaned against the antechamber wall, waiting. He didn’t know anyone at the Siren’s Lash, and he wasn’t here on anything that could be reasonably considered temple business, so he waited like any normal customer. He desperately wanted a drink, and to eat something other than curry over rice.

While Cog sat, he idly noted the shrine to Shelyn in the lobby. Callistria’s church had purchased this building from that of the Goddess of Beauty, and a few priestesses still used some side chambers here. It leant the Siren’s Lash a certain class and elegance; no one would mistake the building for a mere whorehouse. There were even local children playing a few rooms over, overseen by priests of the loosely allied faiths while their parents worked.

Emrys owes a hundred gold to Shelyn, if I remember right. The Silvanshee on Bonewrack wanted it. I should remind him, while we are in the area.

Eventually, his name was called from the front desk, and he was taken to a back room. One of the cheap ones, with just a bed and a few candles. He was met by a haggard looking dwarf girl. One of the dozens of librarians they had working the records around the clock.

“Agent Cogward.” She said without preamble, “What can we do for each other?”

“I’m hoping for a low-danger inquiry.” He said, filling out his request on a bit of stationary. “I doubt you have much of a file on them, but I imagine there’s quite a lot available to the public if you tap your sources. I can pay fifty gold pieces upfront, and can sign off on up to five hundred upon completion, depending on how much you find.”

“Hmm. Might make for good training.” She said thoughtfully, looking over the paper. “Why do you need to know about some family from northern Cheliax?”

“It’s a favor for a friend.” Cog said. “Also, do you have files on the Imperial family? How open are they?”

“Moderately, for those in good standing.” She said, “you’re listed as on probation. Something about a minor leak?”

“I can pay. I won’t share anything marked as sensitive.” Cog sighed, then **** himself to continue. “I also need you to check this proposal. It’s based off of a price check done in Goatshead. The first mate on my new ship wants to know if these adjustments might work.”

Up and down the hall, both customers and workers wondered exactly what provoked such rolling waves of laughter.

••••••••••

We heard him before we saw him. A rapid musical performance on strings, more Latin American than anything I would have expected to hear in this world. The music cut through the milling crowds, drifting out onto the street with perfect, unnatural clarity. It might have been some trick of acoustics, but some manner of bardic magic seemed far more likely. (Spellcraft 6+9=15)

“Yeah, I think that’s him.” Conchobar said, sagging with relief. “He likes to warm up that way; it draws people in. Come on, the least I can do is introduce you over drinks.”

“Indeed it is.” Dierdre answered before I could. “Wise to settle your account before we part ways.”

Conchobar and I both snapped our necks towards the little fey, who smiled devilishly.

“Don’t worry, Captain.” She said, “You’re all paid up, and I’d have forgiven the debt as a parting gift if he hadn’t brought it up.”

“I appreciate it?” Conchobar said, leading us into the large tavern.

It wasn’t hard to see Conchobar Sr. while he performed; I just needed to check where everyone else was looking. He sat in a pool of light on an elevated stage in the corner of the tavern, his fingers flickering across the strings of his lute. He was a lot thinner than his son, and his long, dark blue hair had a greasier shine to it than Conchobar’s, even after a month at sea. If I hadn’t been told, I wouldn’t have assumed the two were father and son.

“Hey Boba, could we get some food and a round of drinks?” Conchobar said with a beleaguered smile, “I’ve had one hell of a month.”

Boba, a dark skinned woman in her thirties, squinted at him for a long moment before recognition lit up her eyes. She studied Deirdre and I briefly, her face growing more puzzled by the second.

“Damn, Junior, I hardly recognized you.” She said, “yeah, of course. I’ll let Conchobar know you’re here when he finishes his set. He might not notice otherwise; there’s a pretty little thing up in his suite, you know?”

Oh yeah, I guess he has dirtied up a little since I met him.

“Yeah, I know.” Conchobar said with a sigh. “I appreciate it.”

Boba stayed for brief introductions, then bustled off to put in our order and take care of a few more customers. In particular, there were a pack of female sailors clustered around the stage; from Boba’s fixed expression, they didn’t seem to be buying much. A few of them gave me appraising looks, which I answered with smiles, winks, or politely distant nods as appropriate.

When I looked back at Conchobar, he was holding a cup of mead with both hands and staring at it steadily. There wasn’t any tension in his body, but he wasn’t smiling. I’d been expecting more joy; this had been his goal since we’d first met.

“You ok, man?” I asked.

“What?” He said. “Yeah. I’m great. I’m just thinking there are parts of the Enterprise I’ll miss. Not the danger, but…”

He trailed off, and I let him. I honestly thought he was thriving with us, not to mention whatever was growing between him and Rowe. I was pretty sure there was more I didn’t know.

“Excuse me, Captain M’Dair?” Boba said, tapping on my shoulder. “There’s a man in the alley out back who is refusing to leave. I figure a captain might be able to get him to bugger off without things getting messy. Meal’s on the house if you do?”

Eh, why not. It might just need a quick skill check.

“Alright.” I agreed with a shrug, "I don't intend to get into fights on your behalf, but I can talk to him.”

Dierdre flickered out of existence, and I clapped Conchobar on the shoulder as I followed the waitress through a side door into a cobblestoned alleyway.

••••••••••

“Come on then!” Sandara crowed, “Anyone? Tell us a tale, and I’ll give you a drink, a coin, or a kiss!”

Sandara, along with her team, made a straight heading to the nearest tavern the very moment she hopped off the ship. Most of the lads were on leave, but having a flock of fine gentlemen around made everything safer.

“You can’t do much worse than the last lad.” She said to the crowd, “Smugglers Shiv isn’t very friendly, but it’s hardly a secret.”

So far, the tales she’d gathered were probably about half lies. Too many of them featured the speaker himself fighting off armies of pygmies, or koru, or ghouls, then barely escaping with a skeleton crew that didn’t happen to be present. Sandara acknowledged the irony of discounting such tales, but she knew exactly how little relation a tavern tale could share with reality. Most of the tellers were here to get a free drink, after all.

On the bar beside her, Ratts scribbled down any relevant details he heard. Name, hazards, and especially location. The captain wanted to clear out a few islands? That meant he needed a few islands to clear out. Oh, and of course Ratts would be the one providing any kisses if they should be requested. Sandara was a lady, after all, and Fishy wasn’t here.

••••••••••

I paused to put my shades on, then scanned the alley, expecting a drunk vagrant. My eyes widened slightly at what I saw instead; a large rectangular grey box shrouded in translucent grey silk. It was flanked by two black elven silhouettes with red eyes. A lounging figure, with long hair and pointed ears, peered at me through the silk.

I turned to look at Boba accusingly, just in time to see the shadow’s illusory features fade away into another inky black silhouette. I tensed, considering my options and waiting for combat to begin.

I’m surrounded but not completely cut off. Probably safe to assume she’s got the ends of the alleyway covered. Invisibility plus levitation, probably. Get on one of the roofs, then figure things out from there. Worst case scenario I can lay low and send Dierdre for backup.

“My dear boy, why so tense?” A deep, resonant, and unmistakably male voice emanated from the litter. “We have been expecting you for a few days now.”

He snapped his fingers, and the colors of the alley faded to black and white. The two shadows pulled aside the silk curtains, allowing the man inside to fix me with a lazy smile. He was a drow, dressed in nothing but a silk robe and an excessive amount of jewelry. Everything about him was transparently crafted, from his long, carefully styled hair to his sculpted six pack abs.

You don’t get definition like that organically. Only the guys who have no other hobbies even came close. He’s probably not even all that strong, practically speaking, if he is keeping his body fat this low on even a normal day.

https://postimg.cc/N9r2LjP8

“I see you’ve grown a sense of style in your time abroad.” He noted appraisingly. “Oh, and a firearm! How daring. Is it ornamental, or did you learn how to use it?”

Autopilot! Who the hell is this guy?

My father in law, of course. Kiyon J’Tar of House D'Lann.

Nendra’s dad? He seems a lot less beaten down than you.

Do not take my situation as universal. Kiyon and Dovnu have an arrangement.

Kiyon shifted his weight onto one elbow, twisting his upper body to face me squarely.

“You will answer me, Emrys.” Kiyon commanded in his rich voice. “I know you’ve always had difficulty with proper manners, but I am only so much more patient than my daughter when it comes to flagrant disrespect.”

The shadows, who had until now been staring blankly into the distance, focused upon me in perfect unison. As they did, long, thin blades formed in their hands.

“Sorry.” I said, snapping out of my reverie. “I didn’t expect to see you here. I didn’t see any signs of the ship when we came into port.”

Are those shadows the same as mine?

Hardly. We are still novices with shadow puppetry.

How reassuring.

“Indeed, the Enterprise is docked quite a distance from the Crooked Smile.” Kiyon agreed casually. “I decided to let you finish your errands for the day before fetching you. I certainly didn’t want to be too overt; who knows what your new employer might think.”

“Might think of what?” I asked, keeping my voice steady.

“Of you vanishing to discuss your future, of course.” Kiyon said. “Nendra is displeased with you, my dear boy, and my own wife only slightly less so. If you return willingly, that will blunt their displeasure. We may even be able to convince them to allow you to continue… this.”

He flipped one hand in my general direction, simultaneously indicating and dismissing everything about me in a single gesture.

“Allow?” I said, my voice sharper than I intended.

“Well you were hardly bringing in much of a profit before.” He said with a shrug. “We will need to review your actions, of course, but if that really is your ship, I am willing to speak to my wife on your behalf.”

“Maybe.” I hedged. “If I maintain my autonomy.”

“Is that what this is about?” Kiyon said with a sigh, “I worry you might never find happiness with my daughter if you insist on being so eternally petulant. For what it is worth, I don’t believe my wife has the time nor the inclination to micromanage you. You’ve already proven to be an abject failure for the purpose you were brought into the family.”

I folded my hands behind my back and met his eyes.

“I need to discuss things with my crew.” I hedged. “They would react poorly if I mysteriously vanished.”

“Not a good sign; you should have prepared them already if you intended to behave appropriately.” Kiyon sighed. “I think I’ll be keeping an eye on you. Meet me here at midnight, or I won’t protect you.”

He snapped his fingers, and his shadows dropped the curtains closed. The darkness vanished, and his shadows became a pair of muscular porters that hefted the huge divan with no apparent effort.

“I trust you will make the correct decision.”