Chapter 72: Book1: Chapter 26 (Part 1 of 3)

Blink.

We were back on the streets of the newly christened Stormblade Harbour standing outside the entrance to the Shield Generator. Jackson’s eyes were on us expectantly.

“You’re back,” he breathed with relief.

“Why? What’s wrong,” I said urgently.

Jackson held his hands up. “Nothing’s wrong. You were just standing there for like, almost half an hour.”

“Oh,” I exclaimed lightly in surprise. “I figured it would be done in an eyeblink.”

<Nah> Quixbix echoed in my head. <It’s only when they must process the whole population that they compress time. Otherwise, it’s done in real-time, or close as. Less strain on people that way.>

Jackson rubbed the back of his head. “So did I,” he confessed.

<Ha! So, he doesn’t know everything after all> Quixbix exulted.

I ignored the imp’s unnecessary and repeated rudeness about Jackson.

“Well, if that’s the case maybe you want to find somewhere to sit down before you level up yourself. The advice we had from upstairs was that there is enforced levelling once you go past ten, so if you have enough XP to go beyond that, you might want to wait for a bit.”

Jackson nodded and headed into a café on the Main Street which had survived the emergence of my new oversized Capital buildings.

“We’ll check out the other buildings in a minute and then head back to the Palace and pick out some rooms,” I announced to Shana and Anastasia.

That drew two beaming smiles.

“Have you got anything else for me Quixbix?” I asked the imp.

<I thought you should know your personal currency account has been linked to the Black Market and Slave Market> Quixbix said.

“Dean gave me a bit of a lowdown on that,” I told him. “Including that any slave sold to a podium is purchased by me automatically. Can you interface with the market functions of these buildings as you can with the podium?”

<Yes, Torin. Provided I’m in Stormblade Harbour. I can inform you if there is any activity> he answered.

“Good. How are we on the quest front? Anything new?” I asked.

<Indeed. I wanted to give you a chance to level up before dropping these on you> he said.

Two quests flicked into my vision.

 

The Corsair’s Canon 5 (K)

Ship, Cove, and the start of your crew have been secured. Time to earn your stripes as a true Corsair of the seas.

Success: Raise your Notoriety to two hundred. Complete three lesser acts of piracy or a single moderate one.

Rewards: 3,400 XP, and future The Corsair’s Canon quests.

Pauldrons of the Bound.

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

 

That quest was followed by.

 

Storm’s Reach 1 (F)

Expand the security and reach of your fledgling faction.

Success: Secure ownership for the entirety of Beaver Island.

Rewards: 5,500 XP, and future Storm’s Reach quests.

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

 

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“I thought completing the Corsair’s Canon 4 would give me three subsidiary quest chains?” I asked Quixbix.

<It did. I’m not hiding them from you, but they have been suppressed even from me. That means they have some hidden requirements. Experience tells me there is likely something on or near the island you haven’t discovered yet and as soon as you do, the quest suppression will be lifted, and the two remaining quests will be revealed> the imp explained.

Jackson returned a few minutes later having finished his levelling. Much quicker than we had, and we headed off down the road to check out the dockyards and markets.

We inspected the large but mostly empty structures.

The Dockyard now ringed the whole of the bay. There were more than a dozen jetties that ships could be moored up on either side. However, the ships weren’t meant to remain there. Each jetty had apparatus that resembled a crane with a wide almost translucent mesh or net submerged in the water.

When a ship docked at the jetty you could activate the crane which would pull up the mesh and surround the vessel, sealing it magically. The vessel could then be submerged and moved to one of the many underwater quays that had been carved into the excavated lakebed.

The Dockyard had a million mana as my other Capital buildings did. But powering the magic which kept the Quays dry and moved the enmeshed ships would drain it quite quickly. As we didn’t need them right now, I let the underwater quays flood. I could use mana to flush the water out later when we had the volume of traffic to justify their use.

The two-market buildings were quite similar to one another. Made from dark grey brick that could have been granite or something similar. The buildings were five storeys in size, with the ground floor being mostly a wide-open space where market stalls could be erected. There were offices and some living quarters on the uppermost floors and a plethora of undetermined rooms which could be rented to interested parties in the middle.

Additionally, they both had three sub levels. The Black Markets were quite obviously storage areas, with the bottommost level having the highest level of security.

The Slave Market’s three subfloors were dedicated to housing the living stock that had the misfortune of finding its way there. Again, the bottommost level was the most secure and intended for housing dangerous captured monsters rather than people. It had a separate, magically powered, and generously spacious, lift for bringing up even the largest of creatures.

I quickly realised that the basement floors of both markets were much larger than the floor space in the above ground part of the building. The could probably hold three or four times as much as the exterior of the building suggested and they were large places to begin with.

Thankfully, there were no active mana draining elements in either market.

The buildings were so large that we quickly found ourselves splitting up as we wandered about them. It was during our perusal of the Slave Market that I came upon Anastasia staring at something in one of the rentable auction blocks on the first floor. Ana didn’t hear me coming, she was deep in thought, and then I saw her visibly shiver. And that hadn’t been from the cold.

“Penny for your thoughts,” I said quietly as a way of announcing my presence.

Despite my best efforts she was still surprised and jumped a little with a squeak. She recovered herself swiftly and gave me a reproachful glare.

I stepped into the room and got a better look at the counter just to the side of the door that Anastasia had been contemplating. Behind the counter on a half dozen rows of metal hooks were an array of different coloured or decorated collars for slaves that came as part of the market. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had got under her skin.

She tried to stomp past me and away.

“Ana, stay,” I commanded.

Instilling a modicum of my will into the order ensured that she had to follow it. That may or may not be a mistake, given our current surroundings, situation, and her glum mood, but this was something that needed to be addressed and I didn’t want to let it fester.

I knew my biggest weakness before the apocalypse had been my tendency to procrastinate and avoid conflict where possible. That rarely worked out for the best back then and was less likely to now. Those who hesitate will likely die in this new world.

She stopped and glared at me defiantly, fiddling with her Soul Collar meaningfully, but she did stop.

“What do you want, Captain?” she seethed. “Are you here to punish me again? I’m sure there are some whips behind that counter,” she spat the word as she finished.

“No, Ana,” I said reasonably. “That will not be necessary, at least, not today.”

I was determined not to let her words and general attitude rile me up and then say something that would make this worse. If that was possible.

“First, I wanted to say thank you. For what you did earlier today. We would not have won, had it not been for you,” I told her.

Anastasia tried to fight the urge but couldn’t resist preening a little at the praise. “Well, it’s not like I had a choice,” she sassed.

“Really? I don’t remember ordering you to save me when the Fomorian speared me in the leg,” I reminded her and winked.

“Ungh, get over yourself, will you. If I could move the bloody ship without you, I’d have left you to be the fishman’s dinner,” she said, trying to explain away my impeccable logic.

I didn’t buy it for a second. Regardless of the circumstances of our union, she liked me and neither wanted to admit it to herself nor let on to me that she did. She had failed at the latter and I’m fairly sure the former too.

Quixbix had explained that if I died Anastasia would remain as a Dungeon Ship docked in the harbour. With our bond broken, her avatar would return to the dungeon inside until someone discovered the ship, ran the dungeon successfully and claimed a Control Collar as a prize. They wouldn’t get a Soul Collar unless they were a Soulbinder like me.

This could only happen if the run would qualify as a conquest. Even then, whoever completed the dungeon would have to both know they could ask for the collar instead of their regular conquest loot and be strong enough to possess it. That pretty much meant having a K-grade class and being equal in level to the dungeon.

Otherwise, Anastasia would continue to exist as a dungeon as she had before I came along. So, although it was technically true that she needed me, at the same time, she didn’t.

Letting me die ran the risk of ending up with an even less salubrious owner, but also the chance for her independence. Anastasia struck me as the type willing to roll the dice to get what she wants if her current circumstances were not entirely to her liking.

Ergo, she liked me more than she cared to admit. Or at the very least, considered me a much safer bet than taking her chances on the unknown.

The longer we were bonded, the deeper the bond would become. At which point, there would be a couple of other options on what could happen to Anastasia when I died, but we were some years away from being able to utilise them.

Apparently, most long-lived Dungeon Corsairs didn’t leave their Dungeon Ship accessible to others on their passing. They were selfish that way, go figure.

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