End Online: Volume 5 (7 page)

“I’m fine!” I call out in a panicked voice. “There is no need to
come in!”

I don’t know whether they are unable to hear me or are
pretending not to, but the noise of the lock rattling doesn’t stop. I get up
off the bed in a rush, opening the menu to equip my armor and cloak as I do so,
and rush over to the door.

“Sorry, I don’t think I can. It is a private room in an inn
after all. It must be unpickable. Strange, for some reason I thought it was
possible to break into a room in an inn,” I hear Verde say behind the door as I
reach for the handle.

I pause momentarily, before calmly opening the door to greet the
others outside. I find that it isn’t just Verde,  Mason, and Matrix there,
but Sir Laurence and even CaptainGordon are also gathered around the door.

They don’t look directly at me, but poke their heads in and look
around the room. Mason and Sir Laurence adopt short, semi-concealed smirks on
their faces. Verde and Matrix blush slightly and avert their eyes.
CaptainGordon is busy craning his head around the others, trying to get a
better view of the room.

I follow their line of sight behind me, and see Fen blushing
extravagantly while seated on the bed, her dress still twisted around her waist
and revealing her long, slender legs. I’m not completely thick headed, of
course I can tell what they are thinking while looking at this scene.

“I-it’s not what it looks like!” I stammer as my eyes
frantically dart around in search of an escape.

“Ahem,” Mason clears his throat, his grin deepening, “it’s not
like what?”

“Y-y-you…” I begin, but cannot find the right words to say.

Sir Laurence’s eyes flash as he stares directly at me, “Forgive
us, we heard a cry and thought there was some danger. We immediately rushed
over in a panic, but it appears we interrupted you.”

“N-no, like I said, there was nothing going on!”

Mason places his hand on his chin, staring at me as his smirk
becomes utterly wicked, “But you 
did
 tell us not to come in.
You also sounded quite flustered.”

‘So you did hear!’ 
I
inwardly curse and staring daggers at them.

***************************************************

Mikhail the Stalwart, Moonkite and their party have been waiting
for us in front of the inn since sunrise as we had arranged. Due to the morning
commotion, however, the rest of us are slightly late in meeting them. Despite
this, they don’t seem to be displeased in the slightest and greet us as if they
didn’t even realize.

“Good morning. Hmm, something seems strange,” Mikhail the
Stalwart says from beneath his visor while looking across our party.

I can’t exactly blame him for thinking the scene is strange. My
chagrined expression. Fen standing extremely close to, but not touching, me.
Mason and Sir Laurence sporting mischievous expressions. Even a complete
stranger could tell something had happened.

CaptainGordon clears his throat, and holds an upturned palm
toward each of our parties. “Now, per the agreement, tha’ be 600 gold each.”

Moonkite hands over all the gold from her side, while we each
pitch in from our side to cover the cost. I pay for Fen as she is my companion
as has no gold, and Sir Laurence pays for Verde for some reason.

“Aye, it be a pleasure doing business with ya. Now, if ye follow
me, I will lead ye to me ship.” The pirate waves his hand and motions for us to
follow as he begins to walk toward the eastern exit of the town.

Most of the players here don’t know me, but a few call out to
CaptainGordon with mockery and laughter. Apparently, he is quite infamous in
this town. I wonder what his story is.

We leave town and start walking through a thin forest with the
trees spaced so far apart that I am unsure whether it even deserves to be
called a forest at all. My cloak has the ability to regulate the temperature
around my body, but even that can only do so much. I still have light
perspiration covering my face from the stifling humidity.

We slowly veer south and I think I spot a few markings on some
of the trees that CaptainGordon is using as a guide. After two straight hours
of walking, we reach a rather wide section of a river where a large number of
ships are anchored along the shore, each and every one of them bearing a
different pirate flag.

There are several hundred players around as well, tending to the
boats, smithing weapons, or haggling over stolen goods. Off to my right, I see
the river narrows off to the north and south. I imagine that this river
connects to the ocean; there is no other reason for so many pirates to be
anchored here.

“Welcome to ‘Smuggler’s Bay’, where all pirates from this ‘ere
area gather,” CaptainGordon lifts his chin and says proudly.

“Umm, is it good to show us the location of this place?” I ask
him while still looking around at everything. “I mean, isn’t a location like
this supposed to be a secret?”

“This close to that ‘ere town? Nay, it not be a secret. Most
players from the area know of this place. There be several other pirate bays as
well. As long as we don’t tie our ships up next to the merchant’s, they don’t
mind much. This be only a game.”

I nod my head just to drop the subject, even though I still
don’t understand. We walk along the shore toward the north, where I assume
CaptainGordon’s ship is.

“Gordon, headin’ out with a new crew? Make sure to catch some
big ones this time!” One pirate calls out, following up with booming laughter.
The captain only clicks his tongue, ignoring the comment and moving on.

We eventually reach a ship anchored along the shore of the river
which I can only describe with a single word; strange.

The boat is about thirty meters long and ten meters wide, not
the smallest boat in the immediate area, but also far from the largest ones
that seem to be almost twice its size. What is really eye catching about this
boat and makes it unique is all the tarnished grey-iron plates attached all
over the sides of the bow like patches. The hand railings around the deck of
the ship and even the two masts are made from some form of black cast iron. I
can’t see properly from ground level, but I can vaguely make out more cast iron
supports on other sections of the pirate ship.

There are seven holes in the side of the boat with cannons
sticking out, and I assume there are an equal amount on the opposite side.

The two large triangular sails seem ordinary enough, and the
black pirate flag billowing in the wind at the top has the image of a strange
cannon with three barrels. The figurehead is a bowed piece of polished wood,
with nothing carved into it yet.

CaptainGordon stares up at the ship with boundless pride, “This
‘ere be my ship, the ‘Bastion’.

-Lost-

I stare up at CaptainGordon’s ship, the ‘Bastion’, and struggle
to find any kind words to describe the vessel. The weight of the metal hanging
on the ship causes it to sit incredibly low in the water, so much so that I
feel like the ship will sink at any moment. While modern day ships are made out
of metal, they are all specially engineered. The metals used to construct them
they are made from are special alloys as well, not simply cast iron and the
like.

Despite the iron panels randomly attached to the side of the
hull, I have to admit that the black cast iron railing and other architectural
décor does have visual appeal. I look over at CaptainGordon, and he is looking
back at the rest of us with shining eyes. He appears to be waiting for us to
sing praises about his ship. A quick glance at the others reveals they have all
pursed their lips in dissatisfaction.

Unsure what to say, I speak neutrally.

“It’s definitely… unique.”

CaptainGordon seems to take my comment as a positive one, and
repeatedly nods his head while saying, “That it be!”

The pirate operates his menu, invisible to the rest of us, and
soon enough a plank extends out from a narrow slit just below the deck. As soon
as it reaches the full length, it drops on an invisible hinge and creates a
bridge from deck to shore.

The captain steps up on it first, walking toward the ship. We
all hastily follow suit and walk up the plank.

Once on the deck of the ship, I can see the layout and the
decorative cast iron clearly. The deck is separated into three different
sections: the main deck which takes up most of the ship, a small raised
quarterdeck at the bow of the ship which would be used to lookout over the
ocean, and the helm at the stern, sitting on a platform raised over the other
two levels in order to provide a good vantage of the ship’s course. I can vaguely
see the polished mahogany wheel, but another cast iron railing is in the way.

Below the stern are two symmetrical doors leading to the ship’s
internals. Like the metalwork adorning the rest of the ship, the door frames
and doors are also made out of cast iron, with intricate patterns and artwork
carved into them. I feel an urge to see what is behind those doors, but
restrain myself.

CaptainGordon is busy running around the deck, lifting up the
anchor before pulling on various ropes and pulleys to operate the sails. One
sail suddenly drops and fully opens and the vessel begins to move through the
water. Once the second sail is unfurled, the speed increases. By now, the
pirate is at the helm, steering the ship through the water.

‘What a slow ship!’
 I
think, stunned and incredulous.

All of the comments I’ve heard about this pirate suddenly make
sense. His infamy stems from both personal quirkiness and the ineffectiveness
of this ship.

I walk up to the captain and voice my concerns. “CaptainGordon,
how long do you think it will take to reach the island?”

“Aye, I can’t be too sure. Don’t know how far the distance be.”

“Uh huh. Also, why is it that not a single person from the docks
would take us south yet you are more than happy to?” I have a suspicion that there
may be more at work than meets the eye. This guy is technically a pirate after
all.

“Ye searched for a capt’n down at the docks? Ye be searchin’ in
the wrong location. There be nothin’ but merchants there; cowards who never set
sail beyond the coast.”

“But you’re different?”

“Ships be meant for battle. That be why I took the life of a
pirate. The merchants fear the sea monsters, but not I.”

“I think I get it now. There are two types of sailors; merchants
and pirates?”

“Aye, that be correct. Merchants be those who make money by
carryin’ cargo and tradin’. Pirates be those who raid those merchants, or
sometimes act as mercenary guards. It all be involvin’ gold though!”

“Are there any other types of sailors?”

“There be a few odd ones. People who like to fish, or dive in
the deep ocean. They be rare, though.”

Looking around the deck of the ship which only contains our
party and Mikhail’s, I can’t help but let curiosity get the better of me,
“CaptainGordon, why is it that you don’t have any crew?”

“Hmph, what do you think I be doin’ in that town?” He replies
stubbornly.

I can tell that the lack of crew is a touchy subject for
CaptainGordon and stop pestering him, letting him focus on navigating the
vessel through the river.

The waterway is wide enough to fit three decent-sized vessels
side by side. The banks of the river are lined with rows of trees, preventing
any of us from seeing further than fifty meters to either side.

On our way out, a ship twice the size of the ‘Bastion’ is
swiftly sailing back to the wide section of the river to return to the other
pirates. I note several holes on the side of the hull, a broken railing around
the deck and a splintered mast. Despite all the damage, the crew on the deck
are shouting loudly in celebration and drinking alcohol with abandon.

We finally reach the ocean by mid afternoon, and all the players
are already lying in the shadows of the sails panting from the hot weather. I
find myself joining them as my cloak seems to be getting less effective as the
day gets hotter.

Looking through the gaps in the handrails, I see a medium-sized
vessel not much larger than this one. From the lack of a black pirate sail, I
can assume that it is most likely a merchant ship. They continue on their way
without paying us any attention and we do likewise.

By the time the sun sets, the main continent gradually begins to
vanish on the horizon. CaptainGordon enters one of the two doors leading to the
bow of the ship, returning a few minutes later with a large quantity of
mechanical lanterns on large hooks.

Mason, Matrix, and I help him hang the lanterns around the ship;
we hang them off the railings, hanging ropes, masts, and anywhere else needed
to provide enough light to see by. As we set each lantern, we light it by
turning a copper valve and pressing a button to spark the gas.

The pirate then moves up to the small deck on the front of the
ship and slides open a wooden trapdoor which I never even noticed was there. A
cast iron crank swings up on a well oiled hinge, making not the slightest squeak.
Furiously turning the crank, which is absolutely not silent, a strange
cone-shaped contraption slowly starts to rise up from beneath the floor.

The entirety of both parties walk up to the captain out of
curiosity. We end up crowding the front quarterdeck, causing CaptainGordon to
shout at us in irritation. Before leaving, however, we each get a good view of
the device.

The creation is rather simply designed. It consists of a copper
pipe running to a gas outlet, fitting at the narrow section of a cone-shaped
piece of highly polished steel. On the gas outlet I notice some kind of strange
muzzle, vaguely similar to the flash suppressor on a modern-day gun, only more
extravagant.

Lighting it with a similar method to the lanterns, a bright
yellow flame soon gives birth inside the cone which acts as a mirror to focus
the light from the flame forward and into the ocean. The concept is the same as
the old lighthouses, just on a smaller scale.

He then turns a second crank several times before releasing it.
At first it appears to have done nothing, but then the sound of gears grinding
can vaguely be heard below the deck. The spot light gradually begins to turn
left, before turning back to the right. The light moves across the water,
clearly operating on some form of spring loaded system.

“CaptainGordon, is that…?” Unable to hold back my curiosity, I
pry for more information.

“Aye, my own creation.”

“Wait, what? You created this?!”

“That I did.”

“But how?! And how could…?”

“Metal craft,” He starts avoiding eye contact, seemingly nervous
about something.

I am too enthralled by the spotlight to notice his disposition.
“Surely there must be more than that. And what about the source of the gas?”

Suddenly the boat rocks violently and all the flames in the
lanterns flicker dangerously. We all lose our footing and fall down onto the
deck as well.

“W-what?!” I cry in confusion.

Everyone else is clamoring and trying to stand back up. I am not
the only one looking back and forth, trying to find the cause of the collision.

“It be a sea monster!” CaptainGordon shouts for everyone to
hear.

I look over the railing at the ocean with Fen next to me. The
night is pitch black, but the lanterns we lit allow me to see the water within
a few meters of the boat.

There are small waves lapping against the edge of the ship, but
the vessel doesn’t budge an inch. A vague shadow passes under the surface,
followed by several smaller shadows enlarging from pinpoint centers.

The surface of the ocean explodes as a dozen long, slithering
tentacles erupt upward. They reach a height of fifteen meters, and are about
two meters thick at the water line. The undersides of the tentacles are covered
with dark purple suction cups. In the lanterns’ flickering lights, each
tentacle appears doubly menacing.

The captain shouts out. “Everyone! We need to fight the
tentacles off until none be left! Each one be an individual enemy with its own
health! Lockon, SomaHealer, Fen, we be the weakest in defense, so we go below
deck an’ man the cannons.”

Mikhail the Stalwart nods toward his two party members, Lockon
and SomaHealer, to follow the pirate’s orders and operate the ship’s cannons.
Fen looks at CaptainGordon disdainfully for a moment before grasping my arm and
ignoring him.

I don’t dislike her grabbing on to me and refusing to leave my
side, but I do worry that one day it may lead to her being in danger. At least
I don’t feel like this situation is life threatening.

“CaptainGordon, Fen will be best off staying up here with me.
She is not defenseless, and I will protect her.”

“Okay, you know ‘er best. It be your judgement.” He looks
curiously at Fen, but doesn’t pry further.

“I will, err, answer yer question after,” the captain says
before rushing off to one of the doors leading below deck with the two players
from Mikhail’s party.

Fen and I move back to the main deck just as several tentacles
begin to attack. Three of them slam down toward the players on the deck. They
don’t move fast but they hit with the weight of a mountain.

Sir Laurence protects Verde, raising his shield up and using a
sacred art that creates a box of shield sigils around them. The tentacle hits
the shield and multiple fractures spread from the centre of impact, but it
holds and they remain safe.

Everyone else moves to dodge the other two tentacles which hit
the ship and break several sections of the deck. Mikhail is the most skillful,
dodging with minimal movement and instantly launching a counter attack, a
golden aura emanates from his sword as he conducts a five-strike sacred art. A
health bar appears next to that tentacle, with about ten percent of its health
removed. His party members don’t fight with any synergy, frantically attacking
any tentacle within their reach.

Fen and I aren’t targeted by the first attack, so we are able to
immediately launch an attack. Our party has worked together for long enough
that no words are needed in times like this. We all make eye contact, then
focus on the tentacle which attacked the prince and Verde.

Sir Laurence’s shield dissipates into fading lights and he slashes
the tentacle from a defensive posture. His attack does minimal damage that can
barely be measured on the health bar that appears. Verde attacks with a strange
sacred art which consists of a single stab, but the damage she does is
comparable to a single scratch. Verde’s speciality lies in attacks which
hamstring, disable, or otherwise produce negative statuses on her target. These
tentacles are a big problem for her.

“Verde, could you go down below deck and help with the cannons?”
I ask after flashing by and slashing the tentacle, my speed allowing me to cut
through its defense and doing damage similar to Mikhail’s sacred art.

“Yes, do you know the way?” She understands my concern and
agrees immediately.

“Only that it is the door on the right. There should be a
staircase down or something.”

She nods her head and retreats from the deck. The tentacle our
party is attacking lifts up and away from the deck, retreating out of the range
of our melee attacks. Fen and Mason take this opportunity to demonstrate their
value by turning the tentacle into a pincushion of arrows and ice spears.

The tentacle quickly reaches fifty percent health, but two of
the previously inactive tentacles join the fray. Suddenly, a massive explosion
sounds from below that causes me to jump in fright. Sir Laurence chuckles
lightly at me.

One of the tentacles buckles and nearly falls back into the
window as a cannon ball hits it in the center of its flesh. It rises back up,
frantically waving back and forth, with only sixty percent health remaining.