Chapter 13

  Is This Pirated?

  The occupants of the bar were quick to skedaddle after the ominous blind man left. To where, Elijah had no idea. There were no signs of human civilisation other than this pub, at least none that he had seen. Then again, they weren’t real people. For all he knew, they just turned into smoke the second they walked out the door.

  Curious, he poked his head out of the window; his guess had been close to the truth. He saw people leave through the front door, but they never made it to the road outside; they simply disappeared, their purpose fulfilled.

  This left only Elijah, the silent innkeep, and the panicking drunk in the bar. The old, grey-bearded man looked out of sorts as he searched himself for something. He patted the pockets of his sodden, pirate-like garb desperately. The man let out a burp of relief when he pulled out from around his neck a key.

  Wild, bloodshot eyes quested about the establishment, full of fear and need. They landed upon the oddly dressed young man who had been watching from the corner like a cuck.

  “You there, boy, come here,” the strange wino ordered.

  There was an easy authority to the man’s words, even with his rum-fuelled slur, and Elijah found himself coming over before he knew what he was doing.

  Wait, Elijah thought, is this an actual person? He reacted to his surroundings. Elijah daren’t hope. In an attempt to test his suspicions, he asked another random question.

  “How many moons are t—”

  “Good,” the man began, not even letting the kid finish his question before continuing with the script this Trial seemed to have. “Now, follow me,” he instructed, before lunging to his feet and falling over drunk.

  Elijah sighed but helped the man back up. He then proceeded to assist the drunkenly staggering man over to the stairs in the corner. The teen looked to the barkeeper for help, but he had also disappeared when he wasn’t looking.

  The elderly man muttered incoherently and swigged from a bottle of dark rum intermittently as he made his way, with Elijah’s help, up to one of the rooms of the inn. The pair burst into the cramped quarters, illuminated by a small fire.

  The old guy didn’t waste any time; with urgency, he rocked and rolled over to a heavy-looking chest in the corner of the room. With shaking hands, he unlocked it, throwing the lid open. It was filled with worn and tattered clothes that stank of the sea, atop which was a rather battered-looking tricorn hat.

  The grey-head withdrew a large rusty knife from nowhere. Elijah stepped back, but it wasn’t aimed at him. The seaman thrust it into the inside of the lid, cutting open the lining and revealing a square of battered parchment. He looked at it longingly for a moment before thrusting it towards the teen.

  “Here, boy, take this,” he offered.

  When Elijah didn’t move to accept, he took a laboured breath, then chose to elaborate:

  “The, The Mosquito, he’s coming for me. I’ll be lucky to last the night,” he continued, panting and growing sweatier by the second. “He’s after this,” the old man insisted, shaking the parchment at the young man, “I can’t let him have it! I can’t. Take it, take it, and keep it safe.”

  Elijah, curious and confused, took the parchment. The second he did, the drunk man grasped at his heart and keeled over, dead. The teen checked his pulse to be sure. Yep, dead as a doornail.

  As soon as this weird Trial no longer needed something, it seemed to immediately get rid of it; given this was a System thing, was it saving memory?

  Elijah didn’t know nor care. He couldn’t bring himself to be moved by the old-timer’s death either; he hadn’t known him long, and he thought him some kind of hologram or illusion, so there was nothing to mourn over.

  He was moved by that nice-looking leather captain's hat sitting in the chest, so he snagged it, placing it firmly on his head. It fit snugly and gave him, he felt, a more demanding presence. He took a moment to search the container for anything else of use, but there really were only old, ratty clothes, none of which he was interested in taking.

  Now, to address this mysterious note. Moving closer to the fireplace for light, Elijah unfolded the parchment, revealing what was no doubt a treasure map. An island was depicted, titled: Treasure Island. Coordinates, latitude and longitude, were written on the side, as well as a great big red X. Elijah knew immediately this had to be buried treasure!

  This being the objective of the Trial, and because finding pirate treasure was a childhood dream of his, Elijah started off at once. He strode through the inn and out the front door.

  Nothing was as he remembered; a green sun shone overhead in a light, purple sky, and ‘people’ bustled about.

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  Somehow, he had been transported to a Renaissance seaside town. He turned around, but the pub he had just left was not there. It was slightly disconcerting to be moved like that, against his will, but he reminded himself it was, none of it, real. It would be best just to keep moving, to, ‘Focus on what’s in front of him.’

  In this case, that was the giant mast of a square-rigged ship, looming over the town. Elijah had visited the Cutty Sark in London and thought it quite something, but it didn’t compare to this thing.

  That was a clipper, a low-hulled, fast ship, designed for speed. The hull of this ship stood as tall as a house. Covered cannon ports, hundreds of them, pointed towards the town. It was a Man O’War; Elijah recognised the design from the best AC game.

  With no plan in mind, Elijah strode through the town. The NPCs took one look at his hat and moved out of the way. He passed traders peddling wares, fish hanging on sticks, and streets coated in human waste as he walked confidently towards the docks.

  There were two muscled guards, sailors with tattoos of lucky pigs and chickens on their arms, standing at the entrance to the docks proper, stopping pedestrians from entering. They were not fooled by the fancy hat.

  The teen tried to stride past, acting as if he belonged, inspired by videos of people who illegally climbed buildings, but it didn’t work. The old hi-vis jacket and clipboard wasn’t enough for these men. A weighty arm barred his path, and a shrewd eye looked down upon him from underneath a sailor’s cap.

  “What business have ye here?” the gravelly voice of the second man asked, laced with suspicion.

  Elijah looked around for an excuse. On the prow of the ship he was headed for, there was a sculpture of a mosquito. It struck the young man as odd, then he remembered what the drunkard had said before he died.

  “I work for The Mosquito,” Elijah said, in a tone that suggested he was annoyed that anyone dared stop him. The arm in front of him trembled slightly. The teen watched as fear washed over the two men. Perhaps it hadn't been wise to invoke such a name; who knew what problems it may cause later? Still, it had been clever… or at least Elijah thought so.

  Initiative +1

  Clearly, the System agreed.

  New Threshold Met!

  You have reached 10 in Initiative! This would be the cap for Race: Elijah, but the System allows you to push beyond your limits! Having reached the first Threshold, your instincts are improved; you are able to intuit things that would previously have had to be calculated. Initiative can no longer drop below 10.

  Elijah cheered internally as the pair of physically imposing men gave him a trembling salute, inching away from him as he passed. The teen headed into the busy docks, straight for the biggest ship, the Mosquito’s Man O'War.

  As he approached, he got a chance to really examine the ship up close. It was imposing, painted black and red and with great big, blood-red sails. Atop the mainmast flew a pirate flag, a mosquito’s head above a large gold coin, painted with real gold leaf. A suspicion began to form in the young man’s mind.

  Humans scurried about the ship, loading and unloading, all wearing black clothes with the same image as the flag. A boy was scampering about the rigging on the mizzenmast, checking everything was tight and secure; it appeared the ship was preparing to set sail.

  Elijah continued with confidence towards the gangplank; simply bringing up the name of these guys’ boss wouldn’t be enough to get past the next set of guards barring passage to the ship. He needed a plan.

  Before he knew it, two dangerous-looking people, a man and a woman, stood before him. Their hands rested on cutlasses. Elijah kept a straight back as he looked them in the eye, but he had no idea what to say.

  Thankfully, they were the first to speak:

  “You must be Captain's new apprentice. That mean he’ll be back soon?” the woman asked in a surprisingly fair voice.

  “Errr… No, he said he had to do something. We’re supposed to leave right away and not wait up,” Elijah said, relying on his Initiative to come up with something quickly.

  The man let out a malicious chuckle.

  “Captain planning some trouble, is he? Need a quick escape? Doesn’t matter, tell the quartermaster; he’ll get the ball rolling.”

  “I heard, a bald black man said from up on the deck.” He stared at Elijah for a moment too long. Just as the teen thought he had been made, the quartermaster spoke again.

  “Did The Mosquito say to raise the Blue Peter and let the crew who’re off drinking repair to the ship?”

  “No, this is urgent,” Elijah replied, adding some desperation to his voice. It seemed to work and the bigger man snapped to attention. He opened his lungs and bellowed out:

  “Unfurl the topsails, gallants, and royals!”

  Immediately, everyone set to work. Elijah moved, just trying to stay out from underfoot as the crew frantically got underway.

  The quartermaster stayed by his side. Apparently, since he was impersonating the Captain’s new apprentice, no one dared question him. He could tell that this Captain, this Mosquito as he was known, ruled through fear. It was obvious in the way people looked at him and made sure to stay well clear of the teen.

  “Where’d the Captain say we’re to head to?” The quartermaster asked when the ship was almost ready to leave.

  “Ahh, yes, he gave me this,” Elijah replied, handing the man the treasure map. His eyes lit up upon seeing it and he barked directions at the helmsman.

  With a lurch, they set off, moving quicker than Elijah thought possible. The land shrank rapidly behind them. Elijah looked over the stern. They were already a fair distance away, but his Perception allowed him to watch as the people parted, allowing a strange creature to storm through the docks.

  It looked human-shaped, with two arms and two legs, dressed in a red and black captain’s coat, but the thing was definitely not human. Its head was that of a giant mosquito. Its proboscis twitched in anger as the pair locked eyes. It threw its hat to the ground and stamped on it. If it said something, Elijah couldn’t hear; he was already too far gone.

  He used Identify on the monster.

  Identify:

  Level: 26

  Monster: Treasure Sucker

  Description: The Treasure Sucker is an Evolution of the Treasure Seeker that focuses specifically on stealing treasures from others. They resemble a mosquito man in form, though they have learnt to blend in with the five races, primarily humans. There are many versions of this monster; the most common poses as a lawyer and makes up reasons to charge people far too much money. This is a pirate-based evolution and is fairly rare.

  patrons: