Well at Least I’m a Magic Pirate Now

Sareneth 9, Starday, Day 6

I passed the rest of the night studying my summon monster spell; mostly it seemed like I was just summoning moderately small animals from hell. Actually the Abyss, mostly, though you could probably also summon beasts from Elysium if you tried. (Spellcraft 10+6=16) Thank you autopilot for your pedantic correction. It mattered more than you might think; slightly angelic ponies would be far more useful to me if I happened to be fighting verifiably evil people than slightly demonic ones, but slightly demonic ones were ever so slightly easier to summon and would be just a bit harder to kill thanks to my Blasphemous Covenant ability. 

Seriously, what did this guy get up to before I came along and stole his life?

Drug trafficking, mostly. (Intelligence 12+2=14 success!) 

Oh. I hadn’t been expecting an answer to that. It wasn’t quite a voice in my head; more like a whole idea was dropped fully formed into my brain. 

I worked for my aunt, traveling to cities in the Shackles with a sack full of various drugs my family produced. We traded them for supplies we couldn’t make ourselves. Damn it I’m going to need to deal with that whole mess sometime. 

I only felt slightly guilty about leaving a family full of drow without their drug mule. Knowledge checks never came with any emotional weight, so I didn’t know what my host thought about this chain of events, just the facts of the matter. I didn’t come here on purpose, I didn’t choose who I took over, and even if I had I was immediately shanghaied. Maybe I’ll look up his family if I am ever free. Who knows, maybe having people that rely on me could be nice; I don’t exactly have a lot planned outside of missions to level up. If nothing else, drow girls are hot. Evil, but hot.

The rest of my morning was occupied by thoughts of slender girls with charcoal gray skin and autopilot handling the busywork. (Profession: chef 7+1=8 fail) I wasn’t particularly paying attention, so Kroop had to correct me a lot. He wasn’t angry or anything, but we took longer to finish our work than we probably should have. It was some Chelish pasta dish loaded up with peppers and red sauce. Kroop assured me it was a very simple new recipe, so I wasn’t too worried we’d fuck it up. Apparently Plugg had requested something Chelish today. 

When I left to do my rounds as water boy, I stopped to check in with Grok first. She was checking the inventory, doing a once over for each of the lockers in her room to make sure that nothing had been disturbed. Probably best to not try stealing, I guess. Wait. What am I trying to get back? (Intelligence 16+2=18. Success.) I had a hand crossbow and six bolts for self defense, my shade lenses, a steel mirror, 33 gold pieces worth of petty cash, and 135 gp worth of various recreational drugs. There may be more if they also ransacked my room at the inn. 

“Hey,” I called from the door. “I had some stuff on me before they dragged me onboard. Any chance I could get it back?” She likes me, right? I’ll just lean on that to start. 

“Well that’s a refreshingly direct approach,” Grok chuckled, “but I can’t just hand it over. It stopped being yours the moment we took it; if I just give it back, that’s stealing from the captain. Think of it as your entry fee if you like.” 

“Oh come on!” I complained. “There’s got to be something I can do, right?” 

“Sure,” Grok gave me a relaxed smile, “buy it back or earn it back. If you convince the captain to hand it over, that’ll work. Or you can balance the books and I’ll hand it over. He’s not attached to any of it in particular, so if you fork over some coin I can sell it back to you.” She checked a ledger. “The crossbow, those glasses, and a box of powders. Any chance you could identify those for us? Don’t lie, by the way; I’m planning on handing them over to Peppery whenever she has a minute.” (Opposed Sense motive vs. bluff 11+1= 12 vs. unknown) Peppery Longfarthing is the Ship wizard and has been busy enough you’ve only seen her at dinner since you came on board. Identifying your merchandise is unlikely to be a high priority.

So… how badly am I likely to be punished if I lie to get a discount on the drugs?

(Sense Motive 15+1=16) Assuming the attempt on Jakes’s life was an anomaly, the absolute upper limit is a few days in the hot box, and perhaps additional work. 100 gold worth of drugs that they haven’t even identified yet is unlikely to be seen as worthy of lasting reprisal. 

Unpleasant but survivable? Fuck it. Future Emrys can curse me later if this goes poorly. Get the price down as much as you can!

“It’s all just Bachelor’s Snuff. Around 13 doses.” I shrugged with a smile, “what can I say? It sells well.” More than half of the product really was Bachelor’s Snuff, a contraceptive taken by men. It was the cheapest thing I sold by a long shot; measuring by weight I would be able to buy it all back for around 13 gold. The rest could come later. 

Grok smirked. “Oh, got a lot of use for the snuff?” She asked, “fifteen gold for the lot, but only because I like ya.” 

“That’s more than it’s worth, though!” I complained. 

“In port, maybe,” she explained, “Out here I could get three gold for a hit of this, assuming anyone was dumb enough to set off without their tea or snuff. Sorry. I need to make a profit or the Captain’ll have my hide.” 

Well, apparently I’m a drug dealer now. Maybe I could resell the expensive stuff? I also don’t want her selling something more recreational as a contraceptive. That could come back to bite me. 

“Alright. I’ll take it. This hematite the captain gave me is worth around twenty, right?” (Bluff 15+8+5=28) 

“Sure,” she agreed, “I’ll take it, you get the box it all came in?” We made the exchange, and I stored the box in the kitchen quickly before getting back to my actual job. I checked my mission log just in case. 

Retrieve your things

180 gp worth of possessions needed

145/180

5 doses of Bachelor Snuff 1gp each

2 doses of Magesight 15gp each

2 doses of Slavers Drops 20gp each

4 Doses of Vigilance 15gp each

Hand crossbow 100 gp

Steel mirror 10 gp

Smoked Goggles 10 gp

33 gp (does not need to be the same coins)

Doable! If I get the crossbow or the mirror and some cash out of her, that should be enough. This really is an easy one! The fact that I didn’t even technically need all of my stuff to qualify was great. If I needed every specific coin, I’d be screwed. 

The rest of my day passed uneventfully, though the officers weren't big fans of the spicy chelish pasta. Kroop assured me that it wasn’t too big a deal. We wouldn’t be making that recipe again for at least a few months, but it had been perfectly edible. A failed experiment here and there, especially when someone asked for it, wouldn’t bring the hammer down on our heads. Not if we avoided making it a habit. 

••••••••••

Over dinner, I decided that it was time to share a secret with my clique. 

“Basically, I don’t need to sleep.” I revealed in a whisper. “I don’t really feel like sharing my spells with the entire ship, so I haven’t told a lot of people about it. If any of you felt like relaxing for a few hours instead of sleeping, I’d enjoy the company.” It’s lonely spending 8 hours a day solo, especially without the internet. Not everything needs to be tactical, but it would also give me a chance to get a little closer to the shorties. 

Rosie seemed genuinely puzzled why anyone would want to give up sleep. “Wouldn’t everything end up blending together into one long day? How do you clear your mind?” 

“I tend to doze by the end of the night,” I admitted, “but only once I’m out of other things to do. I can get a little extra work done, or read if I can find a book. That kind of thing works best, but I can do anything as long as it’s not too strenuous.” 

“So… what’s the limit?” Conchobar asked thoughtfully, “What counts as strenuous?” That’s honestly a good question, but my only answer so far is “letting autopilot take over” and “getting into a fight.” 

“Eh, it can be a little inconsistent.” I answered, scratching the back of my head, “Anything that could tire someone out pretty quickly would definitely end it, like a fight or a really good workout, but I haven’t exactly done comprehensive tests.” 

“Where’d you learn something like that? It sounds like a pretty useful effect. Why haven’t I seen it around more?” Syl asked thoughtfully. “You could probably make a pretty penny if you started scribing scrolls, assuming it really doesn’t have any side effects?” 

“Really?” I asked, “Did you have any buyers in mind?” I don’t know how to write out a scroll, but if I can make money off of this spell that’s good to know. 

“Students, for one.” She said, scratching at her chin thoughtfully, “Rich ones, at least. Anyone with more money than time, really. You could also sell casts directly, I guess, but it takes a while to really establish a reputation. Set up near a classy university, and you could make a ton of money during exam season. You could also be on retainer with some rich overworked asshole. Practically speaking you won the jackpot, if you use it intelligently.”

“Any university towns you have in mind?” I inquired, warming up to the subject. “It might be a moot point right now, but I’ve got a whole lot of life left.” 

“It’s definitely a trip to get there, but if you wanted to leave the Shackles, Azir would be a great spot.” Syl explained, “It’s pretty cosmopolitan, by Rahadoumi standards. Anyone’s welcome as long as they don’t fuck with other Planes.” (Intelligence 13+2=15 success. Rahadoum is famous for rejecting the influence of all extraplanar beings, including devils, angels, and gods.) 

“There’s also the Mystic’s Redoubt in Port Peril.” Conchobar chimed in, “anyone who’s willing to pay for admission there would probably be willing to pay a little extra to make the most of their time.” The four of us warmed up to the topic, figuring out ways I could set myself up for life with my first spell. It turns out that I could probably live in any city on the planet of Golarion with a bit of marketing and modest expectations. 

The chatter continued until a certain redhead tapped me on the shoulder. “Hey pretty boy,” Sandara hissed in my ear, “I’ll give it a shot; hit me.” She gave me a hard glare while I cast Keep Watch. We made our plans to meet in the galley, and when I turned back to my companions I was inundated with inquiries about the busty redhead’s plans with me.

“When the hell did you even have the opportunity to get in with her, and why is she so pissed?“ spluttered Conchobar. 

“Are you, you know, dating now?” Rosie asked diplomatically. 

“That’s it. I’m in. I’ve got to see what the hell is going on tonight. Do me next.” Syl demanded. Sure, I imagine you can never have too many hot girls involved when hustling. To avoid any second thoughts or arguments from the others, I blessed my sole party member with zero consequence sleep deprivation.  

“It’s nothing exciting.” I assured them, “I just asked if she could help me with something. It’s a good way to make friends, you know?”