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Limitless Seas 2, Chapter 5.
🕑 Added 2021-12-17 15:52:01 +0000 UTCChapter 5.
“May I help you, sir, are you perhaps lost? The docks about a quarter-mile in that direction, just follow the stench,” A man said as soon as Larson entered Francine’s Finery, the shop Lucian had directed him to once he heard that Larson needed proper clothes to visit the Lord’s estate.
“Are we going to have a problem? I came here to look for some clothes suitable for an event on Lord Mox’s estate, but if you don’t have time to tend to his guests, I’ll let Thurston know,” Larson shot back, shamelessly dropping Lord Mox’s name.
“My apologies, but,” the man said, gesturing toward Larson’s armor and tattered clothing. The skinny man was dressed in a navy-blue suit with matching suede shoes and a kerchief around his neck, an ensemble that must have been deemed fashionable by the elite of Stratwall Harbor. He looked to be in his twenties and would probably last about three minutes if he was forced to do any real work. With a sigh, Larson pulled the invitation from his inventory, handing it to the man whose eyes went wide when he saw the invitation was real.
“Again, I apologize, can I get you anything to drink? I can have my assistant work up some cocktails if you prefer,” the man said, his demeanor completely changing once he realized that Larson was truly a paying customer with what looked like connections to high society. A dwarf woman also dressed to the nines came in from the back of the shop, followed by a clerk holding a tray of various drinks and finger foods that she sat down on a nearby table.
The shop was of modest size and several wooden mannequins displayed what must have been the latest fashions, clothes Larson wouldn’t be caught dead in. The dwarven woman pulled a measuring tape from her vest and began to assault Larson with it, reciting measurements to the man who made no effort to write them down.
“I’m fine, I don’t need any refreshments, I just need an appropriate outfit for the party,” Larson said, a bit taken aback as the dwarven woman pushed him this way and that to get every measurement she could.
“Very well, allow me to introduce myself, I am Hamilton Purdue, and this lovely young lady is the one and only Francine!” Hamilton said with a flourish, frowning when Larson didn’t seem suitably impressed.
“I’m Captain Larson of the Sea Venom, pleased to meet you? Hold on there for a minute,” Larson said, pushing away the surprisingly strong Francine.
“Sir, I must get proper measurements if you wish your clothing to fit correctly, now, you will need to answer a few questions for me,” Francine said, all business as she got back to measuring.
“Sure, fire away, I guess,” Larson replied with discomfort, he really didn’t like shopping for clothing.
“Do you have any special requirements? I’ve not clothed a naga before, do you want something to cover your lower body? I can maybe fashion a stocking with some flair to cover you up,” Francine asked, starting to take measurements of his snake-like lower half.
“No, that will stay as is, I just need a shirt and jacket or whatever you think is appropriate,” Larson replied.
“A captain you say, what type of vessel to you sail on, we can go with the whole nautical theme in the design,” Hamilton told him.
“I’m a privateer,” Larson replied.
“No idea what that is, do you do private excursions in the harbor for wealthy clients and the like?” Hamilton asked.
“Not even close, I hunt down and kill pirates,” Larson grumbled, losing his patience with the questions. Hamilton stood there aghast while Francine ceased her measurements and gave Larson a more appraising look.
“Hamilton, you have the orders for Lady Welling to work on, I’ll take care of Captain Larson,” Francine ordered.
“You are correct, let me know if you need any assistance, good day Captain,” Hamilton said, the man was obviously glad to retreat to the back of the store.
“He’s good with our normal clientele, but with special cases, like yourself, he’s a little outside his comfort zone. Now, Captain Larson, do you expect to have any, shall we say, disputes while at this party?” Francine asked.
“I have no idea, but let’s just assume I want to be prepared for every eventuality. High society might pretend they’re above such things, but danger can come from the most unexpected of places,” Larson replied. Francine grinned and nodded in understanding, there was more to this woman than being a simple tailor to the upper echelons of society.
“Let me see, I think I can design a suit that will be appropriate for a dashing privateer, while still concealing your armor. Any weapons we need to try and hide?” Francine asked.
“No, I can handle that without any issues,” Larson responded, choosing not to explain his void storage ability.
“Very good, It’s a tight schedule, but without worrying about pants, I can have it done rather quickly. Can you give me an hour?” Francine asked.
“Wow, I had no idea you could work that fast,” Larson replied.
“You have your skills and abilities, I have mine. Before I get started, did you just need the party outfit, or can I help you with anything else?” Francine asked.
“I doubt I can afford it, but I could use something less fancy and more durable for shipboard duties,” Larson said.
“Oh, you can be sure the outfit for the party won’t be cheap, it’ll cost you two ducats and fifty silver. I can also whip up something more suited to shipboard life for another ten silver per outfit. Those don’t need to be fashionable, only functional, I assume,” Felicia told him. Larson almost choked at the cost of the outfit, but he had no other options if he wanted to have it ready for the party.
Paying with landsmen gold and fins, Larson’s purse took a hit, but Felicia was true to her word and had quite the outfit ready for the party. She let him watch her work, her hands a blur as she stitched together the outfit, pestering him with questions about his adventures while she worked. The outfit was her personal take on an officer’s coat, complete with some medals and awards based on the questions she had asked. Despite its fancy appearance, it was comfortable and hid his armor perfectly. Concentrating on the jacket, he found it was more than fashionable, it was also functional.
Coat of the Privateer. This coat has been created by a master tailor and confers the following bonuses to the wearer. The item is bound to its owner and any others who wear it will not benefit from these bonuses.
1. This coat gives off an aura of command, making those around you slightly more inclined to agree with you.
2. A minor enchantment on this garment will prevent stains and odors from adhering to it, and over time, will repair any damage to the garment.
3. A concealment aura helps to hide any light or medium armor worn under this garment.
“This is amazing, thank you, I admit that I was taken aback by the price, but this is worth every scale it cost,” Larson said, genuinely praising Francine’s work. Before he left, he purchased another five common outfits to wear around town. They weren’t enchanted like the coat, but the materials Francine used were very durable, stain-resistant, and comfortable. It was well worth the expense to not have to worry about clothing for a while.
It had taken a surprisingly short time to get his clothing made, but the sun was starting to sink into the horizon, telling him that time was limited before his ride to the party arrived. Larson made his way back to the ships, surprised to see the level of activity going on around the vessels. A swarm of potential new sailors was being run through various ship drills while Shada and Ibn tested out their combat skills. Tarley spotted him approaching and made his way over.
“Glad to see you back, Captain, it looks like we have a pretty good response to our recruitment efforts this time. Word of our previous voyage is making its way through the town and sailors realize that sailing with us will be dangerous but rewarding given the fat purses most of the crew are walking around with,” Tarley advised.
“Anything I should know about this lot before we have them sign up?” Larson asked.
“Not really, a couple of them might be likely candidates for Ibn’s marines, but most have some sailing knowledge and want a chance to make some coin. I’ve sent a few of them home already, ones I thought would be dead weight while aboard, and Ibn has nixed a few for being unsuitable for combat,” Tarley said.
“Good call, I don’t have time to weed through each recruit, so I’m trusting the rest of you to vet them as well as can be done,” Larson confirmed.
“Captain Larson, sir, I beg a moment of your time, I do,” A scruffy man said, appearing from behind the supplies stacked up on the pier. He was missing his left leg from the shin down and walked awkwardly on a makeshift crutch.
“Hey you, I told you we can’t use you, no point in bothering the good captain,” Tarley said, shooing the man away. Larson held up his hand motioned the man closer.
“All right, you got my attention. Why should I hire an old used up sea dog, when I have more than enough young and healthy recruits?” Larson said, pointing over to the new prospects being tested.
“I’m a good sailor, I am, everyone here knows old Dredge, they do. I’ll work harder than any other man, and I’m not some kid that’s never set sail before,” the man, apparently named Dredge, told him. Now that he was closer, Larson got a good look at him, the man was wiry and more scuffed up than he had initially thought, missing part of an ear that his long, greasy grey hair covered.
“I could use a good sailor, even if he has a bit of age on him, but I can’t use half a man, this is a ship of war, we’re privateers, not a charity home for aged sailors,” Larson advised. He wasn’t necessarily a cruel man, at least in his mind, but it was better to chase the man off now and not give him some false hope.
“Call me old, point out me missing limbs, but don’t call me half a man. I lost these fighting, I did, back in the war between the Isles and Imix fleet. I earned every scar and stripe doing something more difficult than chasing down a few raggedy pirates,” Dredge said, staring Larson in the eye. Here was a man that despite all that had happened to him, still had his pride. There was fight in this man, but would that be enough to warrant a berth aboard the Venom?
“You’ve got salt in your blood, I’ll give you that. Tell me, Dredge, what exactly do you think you’ll bring to my crew? I can see you’ll give the effort, but these men are better suited to a sailor's life,” Larson said, gesturing toward his existing and prospective crew.
“Ye be a privateer ship, I hear tell. Do you intend to chase down pirates with swords and harsh language, or do you plan to use that to reach out and hurt them?” Dredge asked, pointing toward the newly built scorpion on the bow of the Venom, it looked like Bug Bartholomew had been hard at work, though the ogre was nowhere to be seen at the moment.
“We’ll put it to good use, it did just fine against the two ships we fought in our last voyage,” Larson said.
“Put me behind that weapon and I’ll best any man aboard. That’s what I did for the navy, was a heavy weapons operator, I was, and the best in the fleet,” Drudge boasted.
“Okay, I’ll tell you what, Tarley will have the ship's boat tow a target in the harbor, you hit the bullseye and I’ll sign you up, you miss, and you leave without any fuss,” Larson offered.
“Deal, get the target out there and let me get to work,” Drudge said confidently as he crutched his way toward the Venom. One of the marines made to stop him, but Larson waved the man through. Tarley had some of the new prospects tow a barrel behind one of the ship’s boats, giving him a chance to evaluate how the men handled the small craft at the same time he tested this Drudge’s claim.
“Look at this beauty, never seen a dual-armed scorpion before. Hmm, the crank is a bit stiff, but nothing I can’t handle, get me an assistant gunner and I’ll have this baby throwing bolts faster than anyone,” Drudge said, working the crank to pull back the arms of the siege weapon. To his credit, the weak-looking skinny arms he had were more than up to the task of preparing the weapon to fire. If the unusual setup of the weapon gave him any trouble, Larson couldn’t tell.
Tarley had the men on the ship's boat row out into the harbor at what should be long-range for the scorpion. The angle was odd as well, Drudge having to shoot over the top of the deck to hit the target that was off the port stern. Drudge hobbled over to the ready ammunition, selecting two bolts that he loaded up.
“Oy, you lot, clear out if ye don’t want one of these up your backside!” Drudge shouted to the prospective crew swarming the deck. Seeing the armed siege engine in the hands of what looked like a crazy homeless person, they gave him plenty of open deck to fire over. Drudge adjusted the scorpion’s aim, at one point stopping to feel the breeze on his face as he judged the windage. With a loud clack, the first pair of arms snapped forward, hurling the bolt across the ship and out into the harbor. A dull thud was heard as the bolt slammed into the target barrel, barely hitting the outside edge, but it was a hit.
“She’s a bit finicky, this one, but I think I’ve got her dialed in now,” Drudge said as he sighted in his second shot. His second shot was dead center on the barrel, and not missing a beat, the old sailor then went about securing the weapon, earning more points in Larson’s book. He appreciated a man that took proper care of his weapons.
“Well, you can shoot, I’ll give you that. I’ll sign you on for our next voyage, but you’ll have to help train the other sailors assigned to the siege engines. If things don’t work out for either of us, we part company with no complaints, deal?” Larson offered.
“Aye, captain, I’m your man, I’ll work hard, just you see, and the boys will be shooting the wings off fly’s when I’m done working with them!” Dredge said excitedly.
The man was talented with the siege engine, and if nothing else, he would make a good training resource as Larson planned to have several siege engines on each ship. He was already thinking as if the Lost Soul was going to be the second ship in his flotilla. Of course, that brought up more problems, and while it looked like he was going to be able to attract enough crew, finding officers he could trust would be a bigger challenge.
“Sir, some carriage is pulled over at the end of the dock, they’re asking for you,” one of the crew advised. It looked like Lord Mox’s ride had arrived early.
“Ibn, let Shada take over and put the recruits through their paces, our ride’s here early, and we’ve got a party to attend,” Larson said. He really wasn’t looking forward to this.
Comments
It's shaping up to be quite a bit longer than the first.
Rahul
I hope this is a long book. Already so interesting.
