Startup 79: Recovery

Rova 29, late afternoon

Cog’s veins, still visible through skin thinner than most paper, pulsed with a dull reddish glow. He shuddered and spasmed, gritting his teeth against the pain. I pulled my fingers, tipped with a faint residue of his blood, away. I didn’t want to risk jabbing them into his side with him thrashing like this. I didn’t know what Infernal Healing would look like when cast on someone in this state, but I’d never seen a reaction like this. It sure as hell wasn’t a pleasant spell, but Cog was more animated than I’d seen him since his original injuries.

Linu turned towards me, her eyes blazing, and looked like she was ready to rip my throat out with her teeth. I stepped away from her chair, but before she could say anything Cog stopped thrashing. He took a deep breath and turned his head to me.

“Again.” He said, “It just surprised me, that’s all.”

“Surprise?” Linu demanded, “Cog, you looked like your veins were on fire! We are at minimum bringing Damien in to check to see if it did anything first.”

“She’s probably right, Cog.” I said, “Just calm down and breathe. My magic isn’t going anywhere.”

When Cog woke up, he’d been restless almost immediately. In my old world he’d probably never walk again, and even in a world full of magic he still needed to take the healing in stages lest he lose the ability to heal naturally. He wasn’t paralyzed, but he was functionally close to it. Any movement risked exacerbating his injuries, he was in too much pain to sleep it off, and he refused to be sedated. Apparently accepting pain was big in his branch of Pharasma worship. It didn’t help that the only two people he had to talk to were Linu, who was actively enforcing his stasis for his own good, and a newly un-concussed but still under observation Syl. Syl, being just as bored as he was and a trained medical professional herself, was more than happy to workshop ways to accelerate his body’s healing.

“Your Infernal Healing spell works on the same underlying principle as Filli’s regeneration, injecting planar quintessence into the bloodstream in a controlled manner.” She’d explained, “We know for a fact that is capable of healing massive damage to the epidermis. It also won’t strain the same parts of the body as overwhelming amounts of positive energy.” (Syl Heal Check)

Linu had been less than enthused by the comparison to Filli. She hadn’t exactly given her blessing, but she wasn’t willing to fight the rest of the room on the subject. Cog was in obvious pain, and we had used Infernal Healing plenty of times since I’d gotten it. A few quick tests seemed unlikely to cause harm.

“You’re going to give the man a mild allergy to holy water at this rate, and if he has kids within the next few years they’re more likely to be tieflings.” Damien, the House’s on staff healer, explained after using a spell to analyze Cog’s injuries, “I wouldn’t suggest it, but it’s nothing too **** if he’s that **** to get back on his feet. If he worshiped a good aligned god I’d suggest stopping, but Pharasma has a decent working relationship with Hell if I remember correctly.”

“I’m right here, and that sounds fine.” Cog said aloud, then glanced at Linu. “We can stop once I can walk around and feed myself, eh? As long as I’m mobile before the Enterprise can sail, that should be fine, right?”

“Fine.” Linu said, gently, “For now, though, let’s get you some broth. You don’t have enough body fat for all of this healing.”

Whenever I came to check on Cog, Linu was there. She fed him, adjusted his limbs when he was uncomfortable, changed out the chamber pot nestled under a hole in his bed, and changed his bandages. I’m pretty sure Linu was losing thousands of gold pieces to play nursemaid based on the numbers she’d quoted me, but the one time I asked her about it she tossed her hair and told me to mind my own business.

Dindreanne, on the other hand, never came. Not until the second day, when Cog convinced her that she needed to get back to work. Syl and I promised not to do anything experimental, and Linu slipped away for an appointment she’d almost canceled. Besides, he was up to the point where he could hobble across the room unassisted she didn’t really need to be there full time.

Less than an hour later, Dindreanne arrived.

“You two, leave.” She said, “I wish to speak with my son alone.”

“No, stay.” Cog said, stopping me before I could figure out my response, “I don’t particularly want to be alone with you, mother. We might say things we will regret.”

Dindreanne glanced at me, and I sat back down. I kept my expression bland instead of smiling; there were people I wanted a rise out of, and Dindreanne wasn’t one of them. Officially she hadn’t ever restored my permission to leave my rooms unattended, and Linu wasn’t escorting me at the moment. She had the authority to have me dragged away. Instead she sniffed.

“Crimson.” She said, “I gather that this confrontation with reality has not convinced you of the folly of your chosen path?”

“No, mother.” He said, “I was actually aware that I was courting **** when I chose to leave home. Were you?”

She pursed her lips.

“To greater ends than these.” She said, “Such as maintaining eyes upon a man who, according to your gnomish friend, proceeded to get involved with a conspiracy that caused multiple riots in Quent. Sebastien Plugg seems to have gone quite rogue.”

“What’s your point?” Cog asked, “Do you want me safe or do you want me in arm’s reach of a dangerous madman?”

“Neither seem likely at the moment.” Dindreanne said. “However, since you are so **** for the sea, I have arrived at a compromise. One that should be able to put us all at ease.”

“Oh?” Cog asked, “I’m thrilled to hear what you didn’t want Linu to be here for.”

“Jolis Raffles has proposed a naval blockade around the Rampore Isles, blocking off their major ports. Tessa is going to contribute to the blockade.” Dindreanne said, “I can get you a commission on one of the ships as first mate. Good pay, and I know you have no love of slavers. You can do some good.”

Wait, no, I think I could make that work. A nice stable blockade could work. It’s at least possible. I’ll need a price check, anyway.

Unfortunately, I didn’t have telepathy so I couldn’t share this line of logic with Cog. Instead, before I’d even finished thinking through the implications he said no.

“I’m not abandoning Emrys just so you can know exactly where I am at all times, Mother.” He snarled. “No deal. If you’re just here to try to put a fence around me, you can leave now.”

“He’s in pain and he’s stressed, Lady Dindreanne. You probably should wait until he’s up and about before you ask him to make any big decisions.” I cut in, “For what it’s worth, I think it’s an idea worth considering. We definitely need to hammer out a few details before we get back to you with a counterproposal, though.”

Mother and son both turned their heads towards me with nigh-identical incredulous icy blue eyed gazes. Not exactly angry, but shocked that I’d have the fucking audacity to interrupt them. They looked more like squabbling siblings than mother and son, but damn did they look related. Dindreanne recovered more quickly.

“I suppose you’re right. He’s digging his heels in; no point talking to him when he’s like this.” She said, “Perhaps you can talk some sense into him.” (Diplomacy 20+14=34 Critical Success. Dindreanne’s disposition towards Emrys has temporarily shifted to Friendly)

She left, just like that, stopping only long enough to flash me a smile that made her look legitimately lovely. Cog watched her go, then leveled his gaze at me again.

“What in nine hells?” He said, “That was not your place.”

“She’s a wealthy and influential woman talking business with one of my officers.” I said, “Of course it’s my business. More importantly, I got her to leave.”

He grunted at that, then laid back as if the conversation was over.

“Excuse me?” I said, “I hope you didn’t misunderstand me. I wasn’t lying to get her to leave. I’m serious that we should consider her offer.”

“Why?” He said, eyes closed, “It’s just one big attempt to put me in a box.

“I’m not going to **** you to do anything.” I said, “If you don’t want to do it because you don’t want to do it that’s fine, but I’d prefer you not use me as justification if that’s the real reason. We might be able to leverage an offer like that into a much safer pay day than Redclaw’s treasure.”

“Don’t you need to get that for the sake of your power growing?” Syl asked, “I doubt you’ll get many missions done sitting in a line of ships for six months.”

“Sure, but I’m already stronger than average.” I said, “My last breakpoint was with Aashaq and we aren’t likely to see another jump in power any time soon.”

“Alright, what’s your amazing plan?” Cog asked, “How is me ending up as an officer on some other ship going to benefit you?”

“I’d like to think I’m qualified to serve as a ship mage,” I said, “and from what I’ve seen it’s not exactly easy to fill out a crew with competent people. You might be able to get us all a stint on your new ship. If there’s a big demand for ships right now, we might be able to sell the Enterprise and Gobron’s Ship to Fairwind and Raffles at close to market rate. That would get me pretty damn close to being able to pay off my debt.”

“You want to sell the Enterprise?” Syl asked, scandalized.

“Not particularly, but it's just a ship.” I said, “There will be others.”

“I’m hearing a lot of mights in that plan.” Cog said, “I also don’t see how becoming an officer is better than you doing all that and making a workshop here in town.”

“Opportunity to raid the coast and get ourselves another ship.” I said, completely deadpan. “Rampore is a big nexus of **** trading in the Shackles, right? I really don’t feel bad stealing a ride from them. That and I’m pretty sure setting up shop like Melku is the fastest way to get Sandara to leave. Probably amicably, but she wouldn’t stick around if she were bored.”

“Fine. If you can manage to find buyers, we can do it.” Cog said, “I wouldn’t get excited, though. The point of a blockade like this is to make him sail through more dangerous waters to get to trading partners, not to stage raids. If you piss off Hanji then our ship will stop being part of a blockade and start to be a specific thorn in his side. I don’t think you’re quite ready to fight a Rakshasa pirate lord yet, breakthrough or not.”

“Yeah, yeah, don’t worry. Market research comes first.” I said, then looked over at a portrait that had faint magic behind it. “Incidentally, anyone who is listening in on this conversation should definitely let Dindreanne know I’m serious. I need 30,000 gold by the middle of Neth, so if she can convince Tessa to offer that much then I’m perfectly happy to take a few months off blocking a sea lane.”

Taking off some time from globe trotting adventures to enchant gear for House Ankari, make some more junk golems, and balance the books sounds positively therapeutic.

Of course, there’s a pretty good chance that Varossa would come after me to get the horn. Probably best to figure out how to explain the whole Druvalia situation to Tessa. I sure as hell don’t owe Varossa anything at this point, but I’m really not sure how to spin this without making myself seem like an idiot asshole for not mentioning this earlier.

••••••••••

Tessa was less than enthusiastic about my proposal. I got the impression that she actually read it, so there’s that, but apparently I was “too controversial” to be placed in a blockade next to Bag Islanders. She even sent me a newspaper clipping in her response. Apparently most papers included a whole section full of gossip about any noteworthy captains, and I made the cut.

“Captain Emrys M’Dair, head of the little-known elven clan M’Dair, is now standing trial for a series of alleged crimes linked to his long-standing ties with notorious slaver Bedu Hanji of Rampore.

As first reported in this publication’s Toilday edition, M’Dair is accused of deliberately traveling to Dragonsthrall following a violent clash with Captain Gobron LaGoon. Sources close to the investigation claim the sole purpose of the journey was to purchase an entire litter of young goblin pups.

According to prosecutors, the pups—known for their innate mechanical aptitude—were then **** into constructing sophisticated mechanized weapons. Authorities warn that these devices are almost certainly intended to equip future raids and depredations by the M’Dair clan against **** communities.

The case has drawn sharp criticism from advocates for smallfolk rights, who describe the alleged treatment of the goblin young as a particularly egregious form of exploitation. Clan M’Dair has so far declined to comment publicly on the charges.

M’Dair remains in custody pending further proceedings. Legal experts say the outcome could set important precedents regarding interspecies trafficking and the militarization of juvenile labor in fringe territories.

This newspaper will continue to follow developments as more details emerge.”

Ok, for one I think I’ve heard the name Bedu Hanji like 2-3 times before today. For another, I'm not the head of clan M’Dair. Wait, is Autopilot’s family really affiliated with Rampore?

Broadly, yes. Where did you think grandmother found a Rakshasa to sire Mother? Dovnu was the first to develop a route in and out of Heslandaena that ships could use. Before that. Grandmother handled surface trade in a manner not dissimilar to the couriers we use.

Point taken, and good to know I’m apparently copying someone else even there. Honestly it feels like everything we can do is just ripped off from someone you knew before.

With that idea shot down, I was quick to reassure Cog that we wouldn't have to cave to his mother’s demands just yet.

Rosie was substantially less sanguine about the slander when I passed the clipping to her, to the point that her tightening grip on the paper ripped it at the edges.

“My parents read this paper.” She said, “What are they going to think?”

“The article doesn’t mention you.” I pointed out, “Besides, anyone who knows you probably knows you wouldn’t put up with this shit. Liam realized something was up immediately.”

“But what about the neighbors!” Rosie said, “My job isn’t a secret! One gossip makes the connection, and the Cusswell ranch could lose a ton of business. Any connection to someone like Hanji, even tangential, is too much.”

She started breathing heavily at the thought, and I didn’t really have anything to offer. If her parents were going to get ye olde cancelled, what could I do? There were things I’d done since coming to the Shackles that I regretted, but I’d handled the Gobron situation and the goblin kids pretty much as well as I could imagine. I wouldn’t make any changes.

If they are taking a serious financial hit, maybe I could hook them up with House Ankari? Yael’s people go nuts over Prime Material Plane food. Ah, shit, no, I can’t really do that. I don’t think I want to set up shop on an island full of people who mostly hate me for stupid reasons, and interplanar markets need a middleman like me if they are going to work. Not to mention the additional blowback they might get if they just lean into their connection to me.

“If there’s anything I can do, tell me.” I said, sighing, “nothing springs to mind so far that wouldn’t probably make things worse.”

Rosie looked up at me, and her face softened into a smile.

“That’s half of why I’m so gods damn pissed, you know?” She said, “If any of it were true, that would be different.”

I shrugged.

“It’s not all completely lies. Just speculation way past the point of sanity.” I said, “I didn’t have any official reason to go to Dragonsthrall, so they filled in the worst thing they could think of as an explanation. It was actually to cover up desecrating a grave. Not to mention that my family actually does trade with Rampore.”

“Yeah, but you’re one of the good ones!” Rosie insisted, “They don’t know you!”

I couldn’t help but let out a bark of laughter. “One of the good ones” was a line I’d never expected to hear in earnest, let alone agree with. If I had heard it in my old life, I’d have expected it to be from some demented Vietnam vet who hadn’t updated his vocabulary since the fifties.

Truly I am a credit to my race.

“Why would they?” I said, “I’m a piece of gossip to them and a source they trust said I’m bad. Why would they go through the effort of asking more questions? I promise you, even if they could get more information with a few minutes of effort most of them wouldn’t.”

“That’s not fair!” Rosie said.

“Neither is Filli’s situation, or even Sosima’s. Neither is the fact that people are born into slavery.” I said, “It’s not a healthy thing to dwell on, though.”

Rosie seemed to deflate; it was easy for me to say don’t worry, be happy when my family’s farm wasn’t at risk.

“If we don’t get upset, who will fix it?” Rosie asked, “This is the Shackles; if something bothers you, you do something about it.”

“If you figure out a way to change human- er, Halfling nature, tell me.” I said. “In the meantime I have a debt to pay and if it’s all the same to you I’d rather help your family directly if I’m gonna get involved at all. If you want to go back to your family and disavow me, I won’t hold it against you. It might even help.”

It was an honest offer, and it didn’t offend me that Rosie seriously considered it. At least, it didn’t offend me much. It was legitimately the best I could do for her at the moment and I wasn’t going to ask her to throw her family under the bus. Eventually she looked at her green hand and shook her head.

“No,” she said, “I’d have to tell whatever story I came up with again and again for the rest of my life. I’m not going to lie about you, Emrys. You’re good people. Besides, Liam is better with words than I am. His wife is probably already getting into arguments about it back home; he always tells her about his cases.”

••••••••••

Evening

Syl and I went over my assets, as we so often did, and found out that my menu was a lying snake. At the very least, it was apparently willing to keep secrets from me to preserve drama.

The Unseen Menace: More powerful perks will be offered with each successful task

Discover the face and name of the enemy (Druvalia Thrune. Reward: To Zanarkand)

Counter one of the enemy’s schemes intended to weaken the Shackles.

Destroy the infrastructure the enemy has built to facilitate work in the Shackles

Unmask and destroy one of the enemy’s most powerful allies in the Shackles

End the threat the enemy poses to the Shackles permanently.

“Bullshit!” I said, “I knew her first name days ago! I knew she was a Thrune before we got to Port Peril!”

“Would it have changed our response?” Syl asked, “She probably attacked because she noticed we were about to turn on her. That would have probably just moved up the timeline. Naomi wouldn’t have had that spirit; it could have gone much worse.”

“I mean… maybe?” I said, “There’s a small difference between realizing she’s a backstabbing bitch and finding out that a cosmic **** has declared her to be my nemesis.”

Syl frowned.

“It’s also possible she wasn’t your nemesis until today.” She said, “It’s the Shackles; there’s probably three or four groups of people trying to take over at any given moment. Maybe it was just waiting for you to run into one?”

“What, you mean it just slotted her in because I’m pissed off at her now and she qualifies?” I said, looking at the fire and thinking. “So if I’d found out… I don’t know, if the Hurricane King was secretly a lizard person controlling everything, then I’d be locked in on handling that?”

“I’m not entirely sure why him being a lizardfolk would matter,” Syl said, “but yes. That is what I’m suggesting. It’s probably for the best. We could have been put up against someone like Aashaq, or the Blood Queen, or Ragsmauda. Compared to beings like that, a Chelish admiral is a bit tame, no?”

“Sure, but there’s a whole empire behind her.” I said. “Taking on a dragon demigod like Aashaq is above my pay grade right now, but she’s still pretty much operating on a couple islands and nobody likes her much. It would have been just a matter of getting my numbers big enough.”

“Speaking of which, what boon came with this task?” Syl asked, eyes lighting up, “It’s the first for this type of mission, no?”

To Zanarkand. I’ve played that song a thousand times, and it’s practically a meme. Stock sad music, even if it’s really pretty. What exactly does that mean as a perk?

To Zanarkand: Gain access to initiative tracker and identified stats/data while in combat.

Being able to see the turn order would almost certainly be useful, along with whatever “identified stats/data” meant. In the game where the song came from, knowing the turn order could allow for all sorts of cheesy strategies and coordination. I was certain to get use out of it, but I had no idea how to even begin to explain the effects.

“I’m not sure how to describe it exactly, and I don’t think I will be able to until I actually use it in the field.” I said, “I think it lets me see a few moments into the future… sort of. It lets me know the order that things will happen but not what exactly will happen, if that makes sense?”

Syl frowned, then shook her head.

“I don’t get it.” She said, “How is that helpful?”

“A lot of the time it really won’t be.” I said, “It is free information, though. I’m pretty sure it’ll happen on its own without any effort on my part, and it’ll be enough to help me plan a little bit better. If I see some guy with a knife isn’t going to get to act until after Rowe and they are two feet from her, I know that knife guy is about to be full of lead before he can do anything, so I can probably ignore him. That kind of thing.”

She nodded, but I could tell she was still skeptical.

“It’s the first perk in the series.” I said, “They are supposed to get stronger over time. Speaking of which, I also got something for getting my hands on the second part of the Three Reasons to Live. Infinite growth potential, but it’s kinda weird. A “divine boon” from some entity I’ve never heard of.”

“Go on?” Syl said.

Blessing of Jyotah- You who are born of the blood of the Rakshasa, rejoice! You have been deemed worthy of note by He Who Walks Among the Gods, Mighty Joytah, and blessed with a fragment of his insight. The essence of a deity’s power lies within its domain, its teachings, the truth which it embodies, for every god speaks truth even if some hear only lies. If you, a mere mortal, can touch that divinity through understanding then you shall be elevated one step closer to it. You must understand a deity’s teachings and perform the central ritual of those who follow it, sometimes known as an Obedience, with a full understanding of why one might follow. You need not believe, only understand. When Jyotah performed one thousand such acts and held each and every truth within his mind at once, he became a god. You, as a petty mortal, will receive lesser blessings such as feats, talents, spells, and tokens of favor when you submit yourself to divine authority in this way.

I made my knowledge check out loud, letting Autopilot fill both me and Syl in at the same time.

“Jyotah is a rakshasa immortal, one who teaches utmost determination and self focus.” I said, “He has studied at the feet of Angels, Devils, Psychopomps, Daemons, and Proteans, and taken from each only that which benefits him. My mother always considered him the least odious of the Rakshasa immortals. He takes all that he can, but he cares more for his own power and connections than for the fleeting joys of cruelty.”

So not someone I want to meet in a back alley, but I can respect the hustle. Then again, there’s something kinda gross about a guy who can hang out with literal angels and then come out still just as much a prick as he started.

“In any event,” I said, “apparently I can learn more magic or whatever by learning about gods. I don’t know how deep I need to go, but it probably wouldn’t hurt to be a bit more well rounded. I can probably get an explanation of at least Besmara, Pharasma, and Callistria. Three extra spell feels like it would be worth it on its own.”

“What about Cave Mother?” Syl asked, “Didn’t she qualify as a deity under Chelish Law?”

“Well I’ve got a whole book about binder spirits,” I said, “So I’ll be eating good for a while if Chelish legal precedent holds cosmic weight.”

Salem, one of my guards, poked her head into the room. The door never fully closed after Filli bent the doorframe that first day, so it was pretty quiet when she did.

“Captain, message for you.” She said. “High Priestess Dindreanne wishes to speak with you again.”

Syl and I stood up together, but Salem held up a hand.

“Alone.”

I huffed out a breath, and Syl leaned in to whisper in my ear.

“Do whatever you need to.” She said, “Be careful, though.”

I nodded and followed a very familiar giant wasp. Apparently her name was Enkrateia, according to Sandara. It was a mouthful, but when someone helps to defend my ship I try to remember their name. It’s only polite. She scuttled across the walls mostly, occasionally hopping from one piece of furniture to another.

I considered making small talk, but from what I knew these things didn’t actually speak out loud. It would be like rambling at Filli when she had those cuffs on to immobilize her hands, so I kept to polite formalities. Opening the door for her, thanking her for showing me the way; that kind of thing.

I did one thing that was, perhaps, intrusive. I cast Detect Sexuality. A person’s kinks didn’t necessarily line up with how they’d act in their day to day, but in this case it would let me confirm a suspicion.

Is she attracted to me? No.

What demographics do attract her? Pansexual, even quadrupeds.

What kinds of kinks does she have? Gentle dominance, giving and receiving. Caregiver role play. Voyeurism

Turn offs? Monsters… including drow.

Ok so the wasp is a switch that is into playing nurse and apparently racist against drow. More importantly, this almost definitely confirms that she wasn’t always a wasp. It would be really fucking weird for Callistria to make a giant wasp with that specific kink, and from what I’ve seen most intelligent outsiders used to be mortals.

It wasn’t anything important. Just something to calm my nerves on my way to talk to Dindreanne. I’d made a successful diplomacy check earlier in the day that apparently got her all the way up to friendly. I was pretty sure she was about to call me in and make me some offers. That seemed to be her way.

It’ll probably sound good, but there’ll be a hook buried in it. If she’s still feeling friendly, she might even make an offer that I’m actually willing to take. Stay cool, Curtis. No matter how she presents it, you’re going into a tense negotiation.

I opened the door, and paused to see what I could see from that vantage point while Enkrateia slipped in. The whole room was in the sepia tone of dim light, and I froze at the sight. I had not been brought to her office this time. Or at least not the business one.

Dindreanne was lounging upon a sofa, smiling at me faintly. She was wearing nothing but a silk robe that barely reached her knees.

“Come in Emrys.” She said, “Calm down. I was hoping for this conversation to be a bit more casual.”