GOD GAMES

When Cillian steps aboard the ship, I feel my senses strengthen. I feel stronger, smarter, and a tad bit more flexible.

This must be the [Captains Authority] passive. I didn’t notice it before, but now that I’m level seven, it’s a noticeable boost.

The first thing I notice is that the deck of the ship seems quite a bit smaller on account of the ballistate taking up so much space. The next thing I notice are a bunch of bolts with differing runes on them.

I raise a paw towards the metal rods. “Is that runed ammunition?” I ask Cillian.

“Myers says it is. No idea what they do, though.”

“We’ll need to figure that out before we leave.”

As we approach the entrance to the ship's hold, Myers walks out with a ledger in hand and a smile on his face. Then he notices me and his smile weakens somewhat to neutral, though there is an inkling of a grin still present.

“Quasi, you’ve finally returned.”

“I have. I had to deal with a little war, but now it's done and my gauntlets are complete.”

Cillian raises the equipment in his arms.

The old man raises an eyebrow. “Six runes. That's exceptional quality. Not bad, not bad at all. They should hold you until you become an expert.”

“That's level fifty if I remember. Do experts have better equipment than exceptional?”

Myers clears his throat. “Exceptional has two categories. Low and high. Low is six or seven runes which is the most common. High is nine or ten. Expert classes wear several pieces of exceptional equipment and rarely might have a piece or two of epic equipment. If they do, it is usually in the form of a weapon.”

As Myers says that, his hand rubs against the handle of his cane, which just so happens to have a sword hidden within.

“Right. As interesting as this is, I heard there were a bunch of changes on the ship because of your urging.”

At my words, Myers struggles not to grin. “Required modifications. Installing Buxon-make destroyer cannons on a frigate isn’t possible without heavy modifications. Same with the ballistate. I’d say the Timbergrove is arguably the most dangerous frigate in terms of firepower in this part of the world.”

“This part of the world.” I repeat.

His mirth weakens somewhat. “Yes. There are heavily runed light-frigates owned by [Nobles] that are superior, albeit at several dozen times the price.”

“Like that Leonidas guy.”

Myers rubs his beard. “Yes and no. Leonidas ship is a light-frigate, but it is a ship built for speed and maneuverability. The legendary weapon rip-terror is what gives him the ability to take down far larger targets at ranges that cannons struggle to hit.”

“Fluffy.”

Out from the ship's hold runs Clay with a gleeful grin. The child rushes up to us and quickly halts with arms spread forward.

Seeing what the kid wants, I hop off of Cillian’s shoulder and land in the child's arms.

“You’re so fluffy now.” The child rubs his cheek in my fur.

“Yes, with my new level, I am now far fluffier. My fluffiness is at a level that few mortals will ever have felt. So be proud Clay, for this experience is wholly unique.”

“I missed you. Grandpa doesn’t let me leave the ship anymore. He doesn’t even let me talk to Boriss.”

Myers crosses his arms. “I found out what happened.”

“Not my fault!” I say. “It’s the crazy Russians idea. I’d never needlessly put a child’s life in danger. Speaking of which, where's Boriss?”

“Buying food with Irmgard.” Cillian interrupts. “When that Daveed kid gave me the sack of Tris and told me to pick up the gauntlets, Irmgard figured we’re about to set sail, so she went out to buy fresh food. Speaking of which-” Cillian stares at the gauntlets. “I forgot to ask but why’d you call me to pick these up? Couldn’t you have made Daveed do it?”

“I could, but you’re my [Quartermaster]. The more tris you change hands with, the faster you’ll level. At least that's what Janice explained to me.”

The Scot slowly nods. “That makes sense. I leveled several times in the last two weeks- all of which right after I gained or spent a lot of coin.”

“Early levels in [Quartermaster] are easily gained through excessive transfers of tris. It will become slower and more difficult at advanced levels,” Myers adds.

“We still have a long way to go before leveling becomes difficult.” I look at Myers. “I heard we also did a bit of construction on the inside of the ship?”

That muted giddy smile resurfaces on the old man's face. “Yes. Since we were doing external construction, I recommended internal changes as well. Allow me to show you.” Myers starts walking into the hold and my current mount follows right behind.

Entering the ship, I immediately notice that the wooden walls are clean and repaired. I also notice that the decaying furniture is replaced with new ones.

Myers clears his throat and begins talking when we enter the smaller mess hall. “The number of jobs a [Captain] is able to offer his crew is based on the [Captains] level and the size of the ship. What jobs he can offer is based on the internals of the ship.”

He raises a hand and points at one of the doors. “This room has a desk, bed, and an armory. Having all three unlocks the [Security Chief] job.” He points towards the redesigned kitchen. “The kitchen is smaller but the pantry was expanded to house a desk and bed. That unlocks the [Head Chef] job. One floor below we have a small sickbay and a room connected to it with a bed and desk. That unlocks the [Chief Physician] job.”

“Really? You designate a space, put a room with a desk and bed, and that’s all it takes to unlock the job?” I ask.

“Yes and no. The armory will need to have weapons and armor. The pantry and kitchen needs to be stocked, and the sickbay needs to have medicine and surgical equipment.”

I nod slowly. “What other jobs have you unlocked?”

“[Chief Carpenter], [Artillery Chief], and a space left for a job of your choice.”

“When I next sleep, these jobs will be available to me, right?”

“They should. They’re superior to the base jobs, though require more space on a ship to become available. Since the Timbergrove is a cored ship that requires less crew, then the space for crew can be sacrificed for superior job quality.”

Cillian crosses his arms. “We could have a larger hold for trade instead of all these extra jobs.”

Myers sighs as though he’d had this conversation several times before. “The Timbergrove is in a prime position to transport expensive products instead of cheaper bulk.”

“Cheaper bulk is easier to sell off than expensive shite.” Cillian counters. “Finding buyers for expensive ass weapons and armor takes too long. If not for Quasi finding a buyer, I’d still be struggling to sell it for profit.”

“Profit?” I interrupt. “What do you mean profit? We got the weapons and armor for free.”

Cillian waves his arm. “I meant above market price. I’m not going to sell brand new, unused weapons and armor for the price I could buy on the market. I’m going to sell it for more and profit from that.”

“My god you are greedy,” I tell him.

Cillian walks into the kitchen. He opens a cupboard to reveal bottles and bottles of alcohol. He takes a bottle. “I worked with some of the worst society has to offer. You learn to bleed them dry or they’ll do the same to you.” He pops the cork and takes a large swig. He grimaces. “Cheap shite.” He takes another swig. “Last time I let’er buy the drinks.”

Seeing that Cillian wants to be left alone with his drink, I return my attention back to Myers. “So, you said there’s space for another job, right?”

“Correct. The [Captains] quarters were made smaller. The extra space was allocated into a room for whatever major job you wish to create.”

A sense of dismay falls over me at the thought of a smaller room for myself, but I suppress those feelings with cold hard logic. As a cat, I really don't need that much space.

“There's a good chance I’ll be obtaining a [Runesmith] soon. Is there a job for someone with such a skillset?”

Myers squints. “[Runesmith]?” Then he realizes. “Afinov’s daughter?”

“Yup, I think she wants to join and I don’t mind. I’m expecting her to show up either tonight or sometime tomorrow.”

The old man starts stroking his beard. “That’s a bit more complicated. Gemma ships have entire forges installed within their hold to unlock the [Forgemaster] job.”

“So we need to install a forge. Is that even possible?”

Myers shakes his head. “Not for any ship made completely of wood. I believe the best option available is to have her as [Chief Carpenter]. She’ll level decently if you have her add runes to the ship.”

“I was already planning on having her do that- starting with some pantry cooling runes. Speaking of which.” I look at Cillian and find the Scot reaching for another bottle. He freezes as we make eye contact. “Whaaat. It’s cheap.” He grabs another bottle, pops the cork, and takes a chug.”

I snort. “I can see why she bought cheap drinks. Speaking of her, do you know when she will return?”

“Be’fore naight.” he slurs.

“Damn. I’ll have to have her buy milk tomorrow. I guess I’ll wait. Clay, mind showing me around the ship?”

“Okay!” the child yells before whisking me out of the kitchen.

_________________________________________________________________

Early in the morning, Afinov and his daughter set out from their home with a cart packed with supplies. Using his strength, he pulls the cart down the streets of Breston at a pace that most would struggle to keep up with. But for Gemma, their race is graced with stamina. Pulling the cart all the way to the docks is constant and efficient.

During the walk, both he and his daughter bask in complete silence. They have already planned and talked all of yesterday. More words would only get in the way.

When they arrive at the Timbergrove, two men are waiting near the ship. When they lock eyes on them, they rush to the cart.

“What are you guys doing here?” Emma asks in surprise.

“Us? Quasi is paying us to haul freight,” Carrion explains. He points at the cart. “What are you doing here with all this?”

“I’m joining Quasi’s crew.”

Carrion frowns. “You accepted? Without telling me?”

“It was last minute.” Emma flushes. “I spent all night preparing. I figured I’d have time to tell you once everything is unloaded. What do you mean I accepted?”

Carrion scratches the side of his head. “Quasi asked me and my brother if we want to join his crew. We declined.”

“I declined,” Daveed adds. “You only declined because I did.”

“You’re my little brother. I’m not going to just leave you alone at Breston.”

Emma raises an eyebrow. “You wanted to join Quasi too?”

Carrion grins. “He pays very well and is strong.”

“And crazy.” Daveed says.

“I wouldn’t call that crazy. More bloodthirsty than anything else.”

Daveed practically goes cross-eyed. “He slaughtered an entire building and then made us loot all the corpses.”

“We got a good cut out of it.” Carrian shrugs.

“I don’t care. I’m done with violence. If you want to join his crew, go ahead. I’ll be fine alone.”

The older brother folds his arms. “I’m not leaving you on your own. Not again.”

Afinov parks the cart next to the ship. Then he looks at the three.

“Boys,” he points at the boxes on the cart. “Unload. Emma, follow.” He starts walking up the plank to the ship.

“I’ll talk to you both later.”

She rushes after her father and they move to the deck. Just as they arrive, they find Boriss covered doing pushups with a cat sitting on him.

When they arrive, Boriss stops doing pushups.

“I didn’t say stop,” The cat warns.

Boriss continues.

Both Gemma look at Boriss. The man is covered in sweat with bags under his eyes. Every pushup is a struggle with arms constantly shaking.

“Is he alright?” Emma asks.

“He’s being punished for putting a child's life in danger.”

“So you’re making him work out? Is that even punishment?”

“We started yesterday before night. He’s yet to stop.”

“That is effective punishment.” Afinov exclaims. “He will remember this pain if the situation arrives again.”

“That still seems extreme.” Emma says.

“Your mother cut fingers off as punishment. This is very humane in comparison.”

“Boriss isn’t evil, he’s just an idiot with messed up morals. Anyway, I’m guessing you accepted joining my crew?”

“I have.”

“Perfect. I’m making you [Chief Carpenter] until I can find a way to install a forge on this ship, or get a ship with a forge.”

“This ship cannot withstand a forge,” Afinov says.

“Yea, Myers says the same thing. I kind of want to prove him wrong, but whatever. That’s in the future. Afinov, I believe you have the fatherly spiel you need to give me in front of your daughter. Don’t forget the threats.”

Emma looks at her father.

Her father steps forward.

“I am leaving my daughter in your care. Use her, protect her, help her level. If anything happens to her, I recommend you are also dead, otherwise I will use everything in my power to make sure you are.”

“Short and sweet. That's perfect. Emma, anything to say to your dad?”

“Um,” she looks up to him. Her father stares down at her with pride and sadness. She can also see a hint of regret, but that is overshadowed with determination.

She steps forward, spreads her arms, and gives him a hug. “I’ll level. I’ll live. I’ll find mom. Then we’ll meet again as a family.”

For the first time in her life, her father raises his arms and wraps them comfortably around her. Quasi’s ears twitch at the sound of stone grinding on stone.

“I will diligently wait for that,” He says.

After several more seconds, the two step away. Afinov looks to Quasi again. “I will now take my leave. Have the two boys bring my cart back when they are done.”

He turns and starts walking away. As he does, a tear falls down his cheek. A tear hidden from his daughter as she watches her father disappear down the plank and into the streets of Breston.

Even after he left, silence stretches for a good minute until Quasi breaks it with a yawn.

“Well, the rest of my crew should now be awake. Time for introductions.” Quasi stands up on his hindlegs with front paws spread. “You may carry your fluffy captain into the hold.”

Emma snorts. She picks Quasi up in a cradle position.

“Boriss, your punishment is complete.”

Boriss’s muscles give way and he falls face-first onto the deck. After a few seconds, his breathing slows as the Russian goes to sleep.

“Is he alright?”

“He’ll be fine when he wakes up. Cmon, let's go inside.”

Entering the ship's hold, they are quickly beset by the smell of roasted meat. Both Gemma and cat follow the smell until they arrive at the packed kitchen. Wearing a flowery apron, Irmgard sets the food on the table with the grace of a housewife. Around the table is the rest of the crew, all eagerly awaiting to eat. Except for Cillian. The mans already sipping on a glass of what is probably some kind of alcohol.

“Good morning,” Quasi calls out. He taps a paw on the side of his mount's head. “This is Emma. She’s our new crewmember. Emma, this is our misfit crew.”

Irmgard points a ladle at an empty chair. “Sit and eat” She says.

Emma looks at me.

“You heard her. Go sit.”

“I already ate.”

“Then you can feed me. Go, sit.”

Emma does as told and takes a seat. Quasi hops out of her arms and takes a seat on the table.

“Alright. It’s introduction time. Our current [Cook] in all but job is Irmgard. She’s my [First Mate] and second in command. The short plump guy is our resident alcoholic who just so happens to be my [Quartermaster]. The old fossil guy with the beard is Myers and the grandson next to him is Clay. Neither has a job, but Myers functions as both [Navigator] and [Helmsman].”

“Lastly, you’ve already met Boriss. He’s my [Security Chief].”

“Will he join us for breakfast?” Irgmard asks.

“Probably not. He’s sleeping right now. Though I bet he will be ravenous when he awakens.”

Emma lowers her head. “It is nice to meet you all. I am Emma, and I’m a [Runesmith]. If you have any questions, feel free to ask.”

Irmgard removes her apron and takes a seat at the table. “Emma, can you fight?”

“N-no. But I want to learn.”

“Then I will train you,” Irmgard exclaims.

“Later.” Quasi interrupts. “We need refrigeration first.” The cat glances at Emma. “You can do that, right? Make a room cold?”

She nods. “I can. My dad gave me everything I need for runeing.”

“Perfect. Irmgard, I’m going to need you to buy a lot of milk.”

“The process will take several weeks.” Emma adds.

“Fuck. Cancel that. I can’t stay here any longer. I need to level and get to the towers as soon as possible.”

“Towers?” Emma asks.

“Yea. I have to reach all twenty-one towers as soon as possible while leveling rapidly. I can’t exactly do that here. Myers, you said there is a tower nearby?”

He nods. “Two weeks out.”

“Perfect. Then we set sail tomorrow morning.”

“So soon?” Emma asks.

“Yup. I suggest you say goodbye to the boys tonight. You won’t be seeing them for a long while.” Quasi stands up, pushes away the plates and utensils in front of Emma, and then lays down on his back. “Now, I’m hungry and sleepy and I want to deal with the prior and then the former. So, you may begin the process of feeding. Start with the meat. Meat is good.”