Corsairs & Cataclysms

Chapter 111: Book 2: Chapter 13 (Back to Torin POV)


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Chapter 13

Day 50 (The end of August 2021)

 

I pulled my curved ice blade out of the dead ghast with a wet sloshing sound. The pallid carrion-eating atrocities had long thin limbs with filthy claws and soft distended bellies. A glance around the battlefield revealed the conflict was done and my crew had finished off the few remaining still-breathing monsters.

“Is that enough?” I asked my imp.

<Quest Storm’s Reach 2 complete. 6,800 XP and 10 faction influence awarded> Quixbix intoned with a business-like formality.

That was the news I’d come to South Fox Island to hear. We’d figured out shortly after returning to Stormblade Harbour that even though I owned all the islands in the archipelago that wasn’t enough to complete the quest. The presence of spawned monsters that had been on the islands before the Governor ceded ownership to me had turned out to be the blocker.

This necessitated visiting each island in turn and cleansing them of the current monster populations. South Fox had been the last island on the list.

Thankfully, I didn’t need to establish a permanent foothold on every island. The Framework recognised that monsters would spawn unceasingly, so I had a few months before the fresh spawns would be populous or established enough to contest my claim. The absence of any victims to fuel their growth would hold back their progression further.

<Well, this takes you halfway to level ten. Pretty decent progress considering we haven’t left the archipelago in over a month.>  

I ignored the imp’s implied criticism.

Quixbix knew full well why we had remained close to home. He’d counselled power levelling through raiding but had been overruled and remained a bit grumpy about it. Although that was likely because Quinntexxis had advised building our power base on the islands first and he was sore I had acted on her recommendation and not his. Even though Quixbix knew I’d made the decision for reasons unrelated to Quinn’s justifications.

The pair of them could be so tetchy and their irritability would often feed off one another. They were a great asset to the faction but managing the pair of them could be mentally exhausting.

Initially, Quinntexxis had proved to be quite stubborn. She would whisper advice to Susan but wouldn’t speak to me directly, having her pass it on, despite the invasive link I had to the imp/fairy chat channel. It was rather childish behaviour but siding with her occasionally over Quixbix’s objections had thawed her infantile obstinacy.

The first sign that she had accepted, at least temporarily, her situation here, had been when the fairy hadn’t thrown a hissy fit at Susan’s decision to remain in Stormblade Harbour. Then after a couple of weeks, once I was convinced that Susan intended to remain permanently, I formally appointed her as the castellan of the town.

With Susan’s prior civic experience as the mayor of Grand Rapids, it was an easy decision to make.

Being castellan of a fledgling faction was a lot of hard graft, but Susan seemed to appreciate the workload. Likely a welcome distraction from the recent dark times she’d experienced. The lure of building a faction from the ground up proved too much temptation for the fairy and the last of her icy resistance dissipated. She fully launched herself into aiding Susan with the management of my estate.

Therefore, the past month had been a busy one where we focused our attention on laying the foundations for the growth of Stormblade Harbour and the Shattered Storm in general.

That didn’t mean I had neglected my progress.

Purging every island provided a steady diet of XP and helped uplift the crew. Additionally, I had delved into several of the dungeons within my territory. As part of the purge, we had identified the exact location of all seventeen of them on the islands.

Even the ones I hadn’t officially marked yet.

I had only completed four of them so far, one each when I was at levels six, seven, eight, and nine. I wanted to maximise the upgrade point returns. You received one point for completing a new dungeon and one point for completing a dungeon at each character level. And if it qualified as a conquest, the first clearance of that dungeon at the dungeon’s current level, then those points were doubled.

The first two completed were the two level one dungeons on Beaver Island. I’d had to complete the Alfred Willis dungeon first. At level six I had to go in solo. Well, I had Anastasia with me, which was a definite cheat. She couldn’t bring pre-formed golems in with her but could make some short-lived ones once inside, which gave us some cannon fodder.

The reason I had to go in solo was that the Alfred Willis dungeon was currently level one, and its grade was only in the second tier. As my class was in the fourth tier, each of my levels counted as one plus the difference in tiers, so three for each level for a total of eighteen. My first-tier path and harmonisation also contributed half a level each to push the total to nineteen, so I only just qualified for the maximum of twenty equivalent levels.

I could have brought a single crewman with me who was still at level one, but I didn’t want to split the experience.

I saved the Grace Nguyen dungeon for when I made level seven. Her dungeon was a third-tier grade, so each of my levels only counted as two, for fourteen. The higher tier also meant my path and harmonisation were a quarter point each, making fourteen and a half. That meant I could take Shana whose nine levels of a second-tier class were halved because of the tier difference and only added four and a half more points. This kept us under the twenty maximum equivalent levels.

Had either dungeon been level two the maximum would have been forty equivalent levels. Regardless, the delves were a bit of a breeze. Despite the extra time they’d had to become fully formed they were both weaker than Ana’s.

Although we were somewhat overpowered and over-geared for them which went a fair way to smoothing the runs.

Neither dungeon avatar showed themselves during the runs. That didn’t mean they weren’t former people, I was positive they were, but I suspected they were intimidated at being cleared handily by such small groups.

As I did with Ana’s dungeon, after completing the run we located the core crystal. I couldn’t claim them as I had her, though.

I wouldn’t be able to fully claim a second core until I reached level fifty. But that didn’t mean touching them now wouldn’t be useful. I could extract a sliver from each and attach those slivers to Ana’s core.

The combined levels of attached slivers could not exceed Anastasia’s current dungeon level. Which, after we had finished feeding it with the recently acquired undesirables, had just managed to grow to level five. Once attached, Anastasia’s dungeon would siphon ten percent of the energy accrued by the dungeon’s the slivers came from, accelerating her advancement.

I secured slivers from the two other dungeons I ran as well. These were level two dungeons so I could only add one more of them to Ana’s core for now. Unattached slivers would have other uses once Marena’s Mercy was designated as the flagship of my fleet when I made level twenty.

<The next quest in the chain is available> Quixbix continued.

 

*** Storm’s Reach 3 (K)

Expand the security and reach of your fledgling faction.

Success: Secure ownership of all Lake Michigan islands within the official borders of Michigan State.

Rewards: 3,400 XP, +10 faction influence, and future Storm’s Reach quests.

Failure: If this quest goes incomplete the rest of this quest chain will remain locked and unavailable. ***

 

I mentally dismissed the quest details.

Shana was skipping her way toward me through the long grass and dead ghasts. She threw herself into my arms and gave me a quick kiss on the lips. Her nose crinkled cutely as she stepped back from the brief embrace, and she nudged the ghast I had just killed with her boot.

“Eww…and I thought they smelled bad on the outside,” she remarked and wafted her hand under her nose.

“Nice reference,” I complimented and smiled broadly.

“Huh?” she mumbled and looked at me quizzically.

“The Han Solo quote from Empire Strikes Back.”

“The empire what?”

I stood in horrified silence for a second or two. “Star Wars,” I verbally prodded Shana more in hope than confidence.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve heard of that, never watched them, though.”

I closed my eyes, turned my face up to the sky and sighed loudly.

“What’s the matter? Is something wrong?” Shana asked worriedly.

“No,” I replied and pulled her in for a hug. “I’ve just realised that I have been remiss in your education, Miss Colton,” I joked.

Shana returned the embrace and then looked up at me suddenly.

“What’s this? Quixbix is this quest real? To watch all the Star Wars films in the correct order?”

<Absolutely. There was only a little bit of juice left over from some of your earlier personal quests, so the rewards are a bit limited.>

“What is this about bonus experience for wearing the Leia outfit for Torin? What does that mean?”

<You can thank me for that later> the imp said to me privately.

“Nothing bad I assure you,” I told her. “There has to be a Blu-Ray copy on the island somewhere. Susan is organising some cinema-style venues for entertainment purposes, now that we have the mana converters to supply electricity. I’ll requisition us some private viewing time when it’s up and running.”

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“Seems like there are some definite perks to sleeping with the boss,” Shana laughed heartily with an inviting wink.

Any further flirting was interrupted by Tony Parks who had come running up to us from the shoreline.

“Captain, Marena’s Mercy has been sighted. She should be making landfall in a few minutes.”

“Thank you, Tony. Can you get the crew to finish up looting. I want to be on our way back to Stormblade Harbour as quickly as possible.”

“Yes, sir,” he replied and took off to direct the crew to pick through the dead ghasts.

I’d sent Marena’s Mercy on a secondary mission which is why Anastasia was not here with us. After dropping us off on South Fox, Anastasia had taken the ship to Gull Island. A small islet directly north of South Fox and the most westerly of the islands in the archipelago.

The small remote island was where I had initially sited the podium we had taken from Muir.

As I had anticipated over a month earlier there had been a few settling-in problems with some of the people we had taken in from Ionia once they were back in Stormblade Harbour.

There were soon rumblings of discontent even though the societal setup of my faction had been explained in advance, and they had all professed that they would accept my rules. Living under them proved to be a different story.

And that didn’t include those who said I will abide, when what they meant was, after I’ve got my foot in the door I am going to agitate for change until I get to dictate a ruleset that suits me.

My growing empathy stat while not altering my personality and making me more empathetic did offer assistance in discerning people’s real feelings and intentions. Which helped me identify that we had a growing problem early enough to do something about it.

The only surprise, though perhaps it shouldn’t have been, was the primary cause of the consternation. I’d assumed that as many of those incorporated from Ionia had worked at the prisons, working with the former prisoners would be the biggest sticking point. That didn’t seem to bother them much at all. No, it was my insistence on exacting a price for the removal of collars that had proved to be the cause du jour.

I let them rabble rouse for a week and judiciously used Quixbix’s awareness field, which had expanded to over thirty metres, to surreptitiously identify the ringleaders and eavesdrop on them.

The result of our covert surveillance uncovered that those who railed loudest against my piratical policies, both in private and public, didn’t genuinely care overmuch about the fate of those who had the misfortune of being collared.

Sure, there were a couple whose objections stemmed from a moral repugnance for indenture. But the biggest troublemakers had similar personalities to Vincent and Constance from the BuyMart days. Seizing control and being in charge is what interested them. Not the welfare or freedom of others. If they could drum up support by playing the defender of freedom card they would.

Allowing them to remain was untenable but I was unwilling to dump them back on the mainland. That would only come back to bite me in the ass. And while imprisoning or feeding the fakers to the dungeon would have been satisfying, it would alienate their friends and townsfolk who were left behind and believed their bullshit.

Instead, I adopted an alternate plan that had started out as a suggestion from the dark recesses of Ana’s quasi-sociopathic mind.

I offered them what they wanted while warning them strenuously against accepting. An opportunity to rule the roost on Gull Island. A settlement they could call their own.

After a few days of plotting and deliberation, my warnings went unheeded, and they jumped at the chance for a place they controlled themselves.

Quixbix’s spying activity unearthed their intention to break faith and sever the connection to the Shattered Storm once they had secured as many resources from us as possible.

I threw that little plan into a tailspin straight away by publicly announcing the new settlement need not be part of the Shattered Storm at all. They didn’t have much choice but to declare their independence because of their earlier stance on my policies.

They had wanted one of the large islands, but I remained firm that it would be the remotest. Gull Island only had one dungeon on it and the dungeon had been the third one I’d cleared so they wouldn’t be able to snaffle the conquest bonus from me.

We dropped off almost thirty people there a fortnight ago. No children. Common sense had prevailed, and the youngsters would remain within the safety of Stormblade Harbour until the new settlement had been built up.

At least, that was the reason they gave.

Again, my imp spy uncovered that they intended to use the parents or guardians who stayed behind to steal and funnel resources to them using the podium. That wouldn’t be happening but keeping the children in Stormblade Harbour suited my purpose.

Upon arrival, they claimed the freshly sited podium and they named their new settlement Freeport.

Trying to make a point I suppose.

It didn’t matter what they called it. They should have named it the Isle of Terrible Danger and Almost Certain Death.

Gull Island had to be the closest landmass for a hundred square miles worth of lake on its western side. And probably the only bit of land within a thousand square miles with people on it that didn’t have a handy shield protecting them.

We may have cleared the island of monsters recently, but the lake was just as populated. And many of the beasties were amphibious to some degree like the fomorians whose numbers had likely returned to their previous levels over the intervening month. We’d managed to kill a few of them who had been roaming about on Beaver Island, but nowhere near enough to have de-populated them sufficiently.

The first week and a half passed without any significant incident. I put trusted militia guards in place by the podium and black-market building to prevent any thefts but otherwise did not restrict access to the podium.

The ungrateful citizens of Freeport used the podiums to pass messages back and forth. Which due to my imp’s ability to interface with the podium we could read before they picked them up. It was mostly poorly concealed demands for my resources and suggestions of how to get around the protections I’d put I place. All of which we stymied before they even had a chance to try.

That is until Freeport stopped responding two days ago.

I made those they left behind wait a full day to see if there would be any change and then agreed to send Brant with a detachment of the militia to investigate their fate after we had been transported to the Fox Islands.

We had departed at dawn and cleared out North Fox Island together. Around noon, after dropping us off, they sailed to Gull Island to confirm what had happened to them. Now they had returned, right on schedule.

Shana and I walked down to the water’s edge as the ship crunched into the soft white sand of the short beach. Brant was standing at the rail with a grim look on his face.

“What news of Freeport?” I called as the taffrail smoothly parted and slid out of the way for the gangplank to extend and touch down on the sand.

“They’re gone,” he grunted.

There was regret, maybe even a smidgeon of grief in his tone but no anger, which was good.

Brant had proved to be very useful and was the de facto head of the Militia of Stormblade Harbour, though we hadn’t made any official announcements yet. I still hoped to talk him into joining the crew when a spot opened up. He remained hesitant about the idea.

The possibility of Brant figuring out I only accommodated the future Freeporter’s secessional inclinations, because I fully expected them to either be wiped out or significantly diminished, had been the only potential downside of the plan.

Some of those people were his friends even if they turned out to be problematic assholes.

“Were there any survivors?” I asked, knowing the answer from his demeanour.

Brant shook his head sadly.

“Can’t say I didn’t warn them,” I said with false disappointment.

“That you did,” Brant wearily agreed. “As did I, but they wouldn’t listen.”

“Any clues as to what happened?”

My answer came in the form of a damaged thin fish-bone spear that was chucked point up to me from just behind Brant.

Anastasia stepped into view as I snatched the broken short spear out of the air. She hopped off the ship, rushed over and uncharacteristically hugged me about the waist.

“Plenty of those were left behind. Our old slimy friends were very thorough. There wasn’t a trace of any of the settlers,” Anastasia whispered with a barely contained cackle.

So, that was the reason she had been unexpectedly touchy-feely upon greeting me. She couldn’t wait the five minutes to gloat in private about the success of her idea.

“We’ll erect a memorial on the island to honour them,” I told the big man. “And see what we can do about the fomorian menace.”

“Thank you, Captain Torin.”

I nodded at Brant, and he moved away from the taffrail.

“Tony! Are you all finished up with the looting?”

“Aye, Captain. We are.”

“Good. Get the crew back aboard. It’s time to head home.”

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