Well at Least I’m a Magic Pirate Now

Chapter 21: Well at Least I did my Due Diligence



Sareneth 19, Fireday

Caulky’s words hung in the air as she leaned in. I could feel her warm breath, her face a pale gray in the low light. She pressed my box of bottles against my chest with her own. Her eyes were fixed on mine, and her grip on my shoulder was firm.

In this light she looks almost like one of the matriarchs. 

Maybe, but she’s taking this entirely too seriously. Just ask like a normal person, girl! You were on my list anyway. 

I concealed my shock with minimal effort. (Bluff 13+19=32. Success) She was probably trying to seduce me based on the close proximity and forcefulness. She had shifted to a higher step while she pinned me to the wall, probably so she’d seem less childish. She was pretty, but she was also a head shorter than me and didn’t have much in the way of curves. (Secret Sense Motive 3+1=4. Failure) 

“Oh yes, mistress, I am at your mercy.” I teased, “you’re coming on a bit strong, though.”

“Huh?” She squeaked.

She was probably expecting more of a reaction. 

“I mean you are very pretty,” I explained, “but I don’t think I want to sleep with someone who is just trying to get a job. Especially not a job I’d be willing to give them anyway. It makes you seem like you lack confidence.”

Caulky blinked a few times and looked down. Her cheeks reddened as she backpedaled up two stairs. “What? No. I didn’t mean…”

“Oh? Well that’s a shame.” I said lightly, shifting my grip on my water bottles.

Ok. Not a seduction attempt. She’s cute when she’s flustered, though. 

“So, why do you want to be on my team so much?” I changed topics mercifully, “You’ve been here much longer than I have.”

“It- it’s not about you!” She stammered. “I just want to prove I can fight. The captain still sees me as a kid!”

“Eh, sure.” I said, “I’m sure you’ll do fine. If the captain allows it, you’re on my team. You know him better than I do; any ideas about how to make sure it works?”

Anything works, really. If she’s working with me on something I can add her to my party. If she’s in the party, then she scales to my level. That’s probably enough for her to pull her weight even if she’s not actually ready. 

“I can talk to him, maybe?” She answered hopefully, “I need to start sometime, right?”

“Deal. I’ll talk to him this evening,” I confirmed, before casually adding, “Anyway, since you aren’t trying to seduce me for the job, we can seduce one another later.”

I winked and rushed past her to the deck before she could process my words. I had filled one slot, but really needed to confirm the other two. I paid for my haste with stabbing eye pain; I’d been so focused on sweeping away from her that I’d forgotten my sunglasses.

I screwed my eyes shut and fished out the lenses, popping them on and allowing myself to adjust. While I did, I checked my party menu and filled my last empty slot with Caulky. I didn’t want to stand around looking into space for long, so I couldn’t study her character sheet. Not yet. 

••••••••••

I touched base with Syl first. It was no secret that we were friends, so nobody found it odd for me to track down my ivory eyed paramour the moment my eyes stopped watering. I found her on her hands and knees, lightly scraping the thin layer of grime off the deck with a rough tan block of sandstone.

I sidled up to Syl and spoke quietly while she poured water across her face and down her gullet in equal measure. My promotion wasn’t a secret, but I was recruiting from a short list. I didn’t want to be harassed by opportunists; Caulky had the advantage of being a cute girl on my short list, but anyone else trying to pull the same thing would just be an inconvenience.

“What would you say if I asked you to join a strike team?” I asked. “The captain decided to promote me, and he asked me to choose a few people I trust from the crew.”

“I’d ask what I get out of it.” She answered, looking at her bottle. “I like you just fine, but that sounds like a dangerous job. I’d like to live long enough to retire.” I don’t think I want to buy in that much. Remember how he fucking kidnapped us? I want out once we can arrange it. (Successful use of Bluff to convey a secret message) 

I had to look twice to make sure she had stopped speaking. To my ears, it was like she’d just kept running her mouth. Subtext became text to me, plain as day.

Well that was trippy. Good point, though. Also… bluff? Can I do that?

“Fair. It’s a bit of a pay boost and there’s some prestige to it.” I said, before letting autopilot continue, “I’d like to have my own ship someday, and I think this might help me get closer to that. You’d be welcome on that ship either way, of course.” I don’t intend to stay in this fleet either, but being an assistant chef won’t get me anywhere useful. (Bluff 15+9=24 success)

“I’ll take you up on that, I think.” Syl answered, nodding slowly, “if you really need me I guess I’ll come, but it still seems like a long shot.”

“I’ll put you down as a maybe, then.” I said. “If I get more positive responses from the rest, I’ll give you a pass.”

I started to gather my bottles from her work crew.

“Sounds like a plan.” She gave me a mock salute before returning to the scraping.

••••••••••

Sandara was still implicitly under guard in the sweat box, so I wasn’t allowed to stroll up and discuss her career prospects. Most likely because they assumed I’d try to slip her some food. To be fair, I absolutely would. She could conjure all the water she wanted, but this was her third day without food.

Instead, I had a chat with Jack Scrimshaw. I hadn’t said two words to the guy, but on the other hand he hadn’t done anything to upset me. He was a lanky human man with ebony skin and hair divided into dozens of small black braids. He jumped when ordered to do something, but wasn’t a suck up like Fipps. That was almost literally all I knew about him.

https://www.patreon.com/posts/jack-scrimshaw-92729339

Still feels weird to specify that he’s human. So… uh… how do I justify asking him of all people about joining the team? What does he bring to the table other than credit for my mission? Autopilot, you got anything for me? 

His work crew lets him get water first most days, without any signs of hostility or intimidation. As such, it’s probably a mild mark of respect or deference. Alternatively it’s possible he’s just more aware of his environment than his team, so he reacts first when we approach. (Secret Sense Motive 18+1=19)

Seriously? That’s all you can give me? You’re not even sure how or why it’s significant! Well, I guess that is what I get for only having a +1 bonus on something I use this often. 

I decided I didn’t have enough information to spin this into something inconspicuous, so instead I went hard in the other direction.

“Oi. Jack, right?” I asked as he took his bottle. “You any good in a fight?”

“I can take care of myself.” He answered in a clear tenor voice, “why?”

Captain told me to choose some people to be on a strike team.” I explained. “I used a spell to point me at promising people on the crew and it pointed me towards you. Are you interested?” (Secret bluff check 5+19=24)

Oh come on! That’s your fucking explanation? A wizard did it and the wizard is me? 

“Oh. Right. I heard you did magic.” Jack said, “well if your magic thinks I’d be a good fit I’m willing to try. Could you maybe hook me up with some better gear, though?”

How did you know I did magic? Shit. Cog was right. I didn’t actually do much to keep that secret. 

“Sure, sure.” I assured him, “that was probably the plan anyway. There are other people I’m considering, but if I decide on you I’ll at minimum get you a tunic and… what weapons do you know how to use? Anything is fine as long as it’s not too expensive.”

“I’m alright with a spear. If you can get me a boarding pike that’d be great.”

We shook on it. When I left, his work crew was clapping him on the back and congratulating him on the promotion he didn’t technically have yet.

••••••••••

I didn’t have anything better to do while the riggers were getting their morning refreshments, so I took the opportunity to try out my newest spell on Rosie. Being a wingman for Conchobar would be a lot easier if I knew what she liked in a mate, and if it was worth anything Detect Sexuality would provide at least that much information.

Even if my eyes start glowing pink or something, I can probably explain it away. Hell, even if someone can tell what I’m doing it’ll just be a little embarrassing. 

I focused my energy into my eyes, as I did when detecting magic. Faint distortions appeared around the members of the crew, tinting the air around them with shimmering colors. I could have spent years learning how to interpret these auras, made all the harder by the focus demanded by the spell, but thankfully I was provided a summary as I focused upon Ms. Cusswell. I positioned myself to appear lost in thought, trusting my translucent lenses to hide the fact that I was staring. 

After a few moments, I was given the firm impression that she was open to the idea of a sexual encounter with me. The degree of interest wasn’t obvious, only that she found me attractive. Indeed, with a few more seconds of focus it became clear that she had a clear preference for men, with little aesthetic or romantic interest in the fairer sex. 

While basically useful to avoid awkward questions or wasted time, this revelation that she stood proudly among the ranks of the heterosexual was of minimal value. Thankfully, continued focus teased out a few final threads of information. First, that she valued courage, respect, kindness, and strength. Second, that she had little to no interest in any man even an inch shorter than her. Given her prodigious height of 3’6”, that rendered dating within her own species nearly impossible. Even most gnomes, like Conchobar, had minimal chance of catching her eye. 

Oof. Bad luck, dude. Well, I still don’t know if that means it’s a total deal breaker. She has like 4 turn ons and one turn off. He might still have a shot! 

She had modest sexual experience, and the only kinks she had developed included a minor preference for sex under the open sky. She was from a farming community; perhaps it had been sexually conservative enough to necessitate such adventurous conditions. She also had an interest in men with animal ears for some reason. 

“Thanks, Emrys.” I was pulled from my reverie as the team finished drinking and started returning their bottles. I refocused on my job and placed the old wine bottles back into the box, seeing the riggers off with a quick salute.

“Of course.” I said as I picked up my charge, “Keep the ship moving, eh?”

I’d had about a minute to stare at my party member, and gotten a decent amount of information out of the exchange. She seems like a pretty vanilla country girl. Well, other than the surprise revelation that she apparently likes fucking dudes with animal ears outside. What the hell is up with that? My on-demand intrusive thoughts had nothing to say on the matter. (Secret Knowledge: Local 3+2=5 failure)

The bottles were mostly empty, so I needed to refill them. That gave me an opportunity, especially with the captain on deck.

“Captain,” I asked deferentially, “can I ask the prisoner to refill these?”

Harrigan shrugged and shooed me towards the hot box, where Scourge sat on guard. He was ostensibly monitoring Syl’s team, but he’d manned this post the moment that I arrived on deck.

“Don’t mind me,” I told Scourge, “the captain told me that I could ask her for help topping off our water.”

Scourge watched me carefully, but wisely chose to accept the captain’s decision. I turned to the badly sunburnt Sandara.

“Hey, you seem bored.” I said, “any chance you could help me out with these bottles? We’ll need to crack open one of the barrels in the hold if you don’t.”

“I dunno,” Sandara croaked sarcastically, “It’s not my shift and I’ve really been enjoying the time off.”

“Oh, don’t be like that.” I chided her. “Help me out and I’ll make it worth your while later. Besides, this is the only way we can have a chat before you’re released.” I have something for you and I need to be close to give it to you. (Bluff to convey secret message 3+9=12. Sandara sense motive 10+8=18 success)

“No funny business,” Scourge snapped at me. “You stay right there. I’ll hold anything she needs to see.”

I grumbled and slipped the chunk of ship’s biscuit I had palmed back into my bag. It seemed like I blew it. (Slight of Hand 19+8=27)

Bullshit. I thought I had a bluff of like… +14. Wait, no, was it +19? Shit, I need to pay more attention. Is the necklace boosting my rolls? Anyway, my bluff is way higher than +9. 

“Fine, fine.” I said, hiding my frustration as best I could. “So, Sandara, you up for it?”

“Fine,” she sighed, “I’ve got nothing better to do.”

“Great.” I handed Scourge his first set of bottles to present. “So, Sandara, I got a promotion. Do you want to work for me?”

“Oh?” She snorted before chanting for a few seconds. “I assume you don’t mean in the kitchen.”

“Nah. Assault team.” I confirmed, “I figured bringing someone with healing magic was just about the smartest thing I could possibly do, and Conchobar doesn’t have the stomach for fighting.”

“Fine,” she agreed, “but if we find anything exciting I want dibs.”

“I dunno.” I said while she filled a few more bottles, “If you want special treatment you might need to do a bit more to persuade me.”

“Oh?” She answered, her mouth twisting into a crooked smile, “You want me to call you sir?”

“I didn’t really have it in mind,” I admitted, “but it has a certain appeal, if you’re offering.”

“Shut the hell up.” Scourge growled. “The captain said you could get her to work, and I let ye talk business, but I don’t need to listen to you two flirting.”

“Sorry sir,” Sandara said, her voice oozing with false contrition, “I didn’t mean to get you in trouble.”

“Quite alright, dear.” I played along, pivoting back to professional before Scourge hit his limit. “I’ll tell the Captain I want you on my team. Hopefully he didn’t have other plans for you.”

If he doesn’t, it’s got to be one of those fated bullshit things from Never Split The Party. There is no way he just couldn’t think of any use for a healer, not unless he’s an idiot. 

••••••••••

I asked around below deck and found that Crimson Cogward had been assigned to hunt rats. In fact, when I found him he was handing over three of them to Kroop. Apparently they were going to be cleaned and tossed into the soup.

Meat is meat, I guess. 

“Crimson,” I flagged him down just outside the galley, "can we talk for a minute?”

“Sure, shoot.” He agreed, leaning against a wall and fixing his eyes on me.

“I’m a strike team captain now.” I explained, “I want to know if you’d be interested in being on my team.”

“Hmm,” he grunted. “Depends on a lot of things. Mostly, why exactly do you want me on your squad?”

You seem like you can take care of yourself.” I explained, “there aren’t many people on the crew in as good a shape as you,” (Bluff check: 19+19=38)

“Right,” he looked down at his well muscled arms, furrowing his brow. “So that’s what did it. Sorry, I’m not interested. I’m not really looking to rise to the top.”

I recalled that he also attempted to bow out of the race to become a rigger. For some reason this man didn’t want to rise above the rank of swab. I doubted anything I could have said would have successfully recruited him; it seemed more like he was fishing for information. He wanted to know why I’d caught his eye, and I’d cited his muscles.

“I won’t ask why you want to stay anonymous,” I shrugged, “but I’ll respect it as long as you can tell me it won’t fuck me over.”

“It won’t.” He assured me, “especially if you get off the ship like you were planning.”

“Well that isn’t ominous at all.” I snarked. “You seem to keep to yourself, so I’m just going to hope it isn’t a mutiny. I’ll be watching.”

“Of course you will.” He sighed. “Trust me. You won’t see me doing anything destructive.”

“Fine, fine.” I waved him off. In all likelihood this was not my problem.

I headed into the galley to help with prep. The rest of my day was blessedly uneventful, at least through dinner. I had a meeting to attend with the captain later, where I secured the services of Sandara, Caulky, Jack, and Owlbear for my team.

“Of course you can take the idiot,” Harrigan guffawed, “If you can manage him I’ll be happy to get some use out of the lad.”

“I think he might surprise you.” I said, a little testy at Harrigan’s casual rudeness. “Owlbear is very eager to help.”

“Hopefully that’s enough.” He answered before letting his face split into a cruel smile, “Now scram, and be back on deck at first light. Ye wanted training. Well, yer gonna get it.”

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