Chapter 43: Book 1: Chapter 18 (Part 1 of 4)

My first impression would best be described as wow! Not the game, just the general expression of amazement.

What stood out immediately were the sleek black lines of the craft. The crystalline substance that formed the cocoon or something very similar appeared to have been used in the formation of my vessel. Unlike the cocoon, my new ship didn’t glint in the sunlight, if anything the vessel seemed to absorb the light and refused to release it. I suppose I’d expected the ship to be made of wood, not whatever this material was.

The ship was maybe twelve metres long, a few metres longer than the river taxi had been, but a touch thinner than the five metres wide the taxi had been. The ship was all sharp lines and edges, not even remotely practical for real seaborne vessels, but then if it was powered by a dungeon core it probably didn’t need to be.

The prow was narrowed and pointed.

Protruding from it at water level was a metre-long barbed spike. The stern of the ship similarly narrowed, though it wasn’t quite as pointed and had several smaller spikes to deter other ships ramming it from behind. There was no sign of a rudder or other means of changing direction or propulsion.

The back third had a two-metre-high cabin with a flat roof and steps that led up on top, the design of which was more reminiscent of mediaeval ship construction that I’d expected. The cabin roof was surrounded by a taffrail that matched the one which lined the lower portions of the deck.

There was no wheel to be seen, and the mast was about four metres back from the prow. The mast only extended three metres into the air and the sail wasn’t made of cloth. It seemed to be a slightly more flexible version of the vaguely crystalline material the rest of the vessel was made of. Like the rest of the ship, the sails didn’t seem to be genuinely made for sailing.

The entire ship was black like the sclera of my eyes apart from ice-blue frosting on the numerous edges on the hull which matched my own markings and irises. There was no flag or any symbols on the odd sails. At least, not yet.

As we watched, the ship started to move and dislodged itself from the sand bar.

The vessel slipped onto the Grand River smoothly and came to a full stop once it was clear of the dry-bed inlet. The hull sat unnaturally high on the river, not displacing as much water as you would expect, which was just as well as there didn’t seem to be much hull before it became the taffrail. The hull was perhaps half a metre deep before the deck began and the taffrail a metre high.

Thankfully, we would only be on rivers and lakes for a while as any choppy seas would send water onto the deck very easily.

A partition in the taffrail appeared, extended a little and then slid out of the way like a sliding glass door, and a gangplank extended from this freshly created gap down to the sandbar.

We were being welcomed aboard.

“Shall we,” I exclaimed giddily.

Not that I waited for a response. I ran along the dried silt, confident of my footing after traversing it twice already and hopped over the standing water to the base of the black gangplank. I landed heavily in my exuberance but there was remarkably little give from the plank which barely flexed from my weighted landing.

I stopped briefly before rushing up and examined the gangplank. The material was crystalline as I’d observed from the embankment, but my excellent eyesight informed me it wasn’t smooth like ice. The texture was more akin to fine sandpaper, so you wouldn’t slip or lose purchase even when it was doused in water.

With a big grin on my face, I raced up and onto the ship.

<Quest ‘The Corsair’s Canon 2’ completed. 4,284 XP and Boots of the Bound awarded> Quixbix intoned formally as I stepped aboard.

I was followed on board swiftly by Jackson, with Shana only a few heartbeats behind him.

“This is frigging awesome,” Jackson giggled.

Our inspection of the new craft was interrupted by a slow clap coming from the direction of the cabin in the aft. The door had swung open silently after we boarded and out stepped the avatar of the dungeon, Anastasia Ruslanovna.

The short and curvy bombshell looked exactly the same as she had in the dungeon, still dressed in her sexy school-girls outfit with her long blonde hair tied in two bunches that rested over her shoulders. A fake smile was plastered on her lips as she came to a stop a few feet from my group.

“I do hope you find everything to your satisfaction, Maaaaster,” she greeted me, her voice so filled with sarcasm I’m surprised we couldn’t hear it drip onto the deck.

Anastasia ensured that her rendition of the master honorific was particularly venomous.

“Anastasia, I told you before I don’t intend it to be that way,” I reassured her, or I attempted to at any rate.

“Oh, really,” Anastasia exclaimed with mock surprise. “Did you say that earlier? I must have forgotten in all the excitement of you gifting me such a wonderful new accessory,” she sneered and hooked her finger under a thick black collar that encircled her neck. “That I can never fucking remove,” she screamed loudly.

Very loudly.

I grimaced.

The fucking Soul Collar. I couldn’t believe that I’d forgotten about it or that it apparently had been fitted to Anastasia’s avatar automatically.

Quixbix and I would have words later.

I analysed the item on her neck before I responded.

Soul Collar

An enhanced version of the Core Control Collar, available only to those who have selected Path of the Binder as their path to power. The Soul Collar retains the functions of its lesser counterpart in that it allows the avatar of the Core to leave the confines of the Dungeon if they are with their master and imposes complete subservience to their will. You are reading story Corsairs & Cataclysms at novel35.com Additionally, the Soul Collar provides the following. The avatar gains inventory slots equivalent to the avatar’s character class. The avatar may leave the proximity of their master if following specific orders given by their master. The avatar is attuned to their master’s needs and wishes, providing insight on how to serve them better. Once applied to a dungeon the collar can’t be destroyed or permanently removed. Should the collar’s owner die intestate then the collar can be claimed by any character strong enough to claim it as a prize for dungeon completion who elects to do so.

 

If I hadn’t already been grimacing, I would be now. No wonder Anastasia was pissed. I’d suggested I wouldn’t treat her as a slave and everything about the collar yelled slavery.

“Anastasia, I’m sorry about the collar. You will have to take my word for it that I didn’t know about its effects, apart from allowing you to leave the ship or that you could never take it off,” I explained patiently.

The small blonde simply scowled at me and tapped her foot on the deck angrily, her disbelief crystal clear.

Shana looked at me quizzically and I shared the item description with her through our bond.

“Oh!” she gasped in recognition.

“Yeah, oh,” I said in response.

Jackson stayed quiet and wandered off to explore the prow, having grown used to half-conversations and details he couldn’t see.

“Quixbix, you’ve been quiet,” I huffed.

<Yes, I’ve been dreading this bit for over a day> Quixbix replied glumly. <Can I say in my defence I never lied to you, but I acknowledge that I did deliberately leave out some information you would probably have preferred that I divulge. And I only did it because back then you were getting all antsy and moralistic about this kind of shit and I didn’t want you to die because you turned down the opportunity of a lifetime>

“Oh, my God,” Anastasia cried. “That has to be the worst fucking apology I’ve ever heard. And…I’m the fucking bitch you should be apologising to imp,” she screeched to the heavens.

“Well, that answers the question of whether Anastasia and Quixbix can communicate,” I quipped to Shana.

“She’s not wrong, though,” Shana answered gravely.

I nodded my agreement. “Quixbix, apologise to Anastasia,” I ordered.

I waited for a moment and was about to speak again when Anastasia said. “That’ll do I suppose, but only barely.”

“For fuck’s sake. Quixbix, did you just exclude me when you apologised?” I snapped.

<Maybe> the imp hedged.

“I give up. Ana, will you show us the rest of the ship,” I asked her.

“Are you giving your pet a name, Master?” Anastasia snarked with an edge of malice.

“No, it was just an informal mode of address, and you don’t have to call me master,” I sighed wearily and tried to ease the tension between us.

“Why, thaaaank you, for your gracious permission, Cuntface,” she sassed cruelly.

Something snapped inside of me, it was a similar sensation I expereinced when Shana had disobeyed me at Constance’s house, and I crossed the deck in less than a second. Anastasia, possibly through the bond, seemed aware that the mood had palpably changed and backed up against the cabin wall, her eyes wide.

I seized her chin firmly and forced her to meet my furious gaze.

“Do not push me, Anastasia. You may be unhappy with the turn of events, but you will show me respect. Your informality privileges are revoked. If master does not please you, sir or captain will suffice. If you manage to fix that sullen attitude, I may let you call me by my name in the future. Am I understood?” I growled down at the short blonde woman.

“Uh…yes…sir,” she stuttered through her shock.

“That’s better,” I said, releasing her chin and stepping back.

Jackson’s mouth was a little agape at my display and Shana, well, Shana looked turned on, but then she loved it when I bossed it.

“Let’s see below then,” I suggested in a normal tone of voice.

You can find story with these keywords: Corsairs & Cataclysms, Read Corsairs & Cataclysms, Corsairs & Cataclysms novel, Corsairs & Cataclysms book, Corsairs & Cataclysms story, Corsairs & Cataclysms full, Corsairs & Cataclysms Latest Chapter