Sins of the Forefathers: A LitRPG Fantasy Isekai

“Alphonse, Ruben,” Grey nodded at the man and then the dwarf, before pausing for a moment. “Cassandra.”

“Ugh,” The dwarf, apparently ‘Ruben’, grunted in disgust. He reached for a nearby goblet and chugged its contents, before slamming it back on the table. “I’m not drunk enough for this shit.”

“Come now,” ‘Alphonse’ said, smiling insincerely. “The Headmaster is always a welcome guest in our port.”

Grey smiled calmly at the three apparent rulers of the town, ignoring the not-so-subtle digs. “Thank you for seeing me so promptly. I promise not to take too much of your valuable time.”

The woman in the center, ‘Cassandra’, leaned forward languidly, resting her chin in her hand. “Let me guess,” She drawled. “You’d like our help intervening in your little war.”

Grey shook his head and smiled at her disarmingly. “Not at all. I wouldn’t dream of asking Marrowmist to intervene in matters of state.”

For some reason, that caused all four of them to let out a short laugh.

Chuckling, Grey continued. “No, I have no desire to insert Marrowmist into the conflict with the Loyalists. Instead, I’d like to charter the services of a Captain willing to provide a specific service.”

“Oh?” Cassandra asked. “And what service would that be?”

Grey met her eyes. “I need an experienced Captain willing to ferry myself and my companions to Caer Drarrow. There are…certain people that need to be freed from those walls.”

I unwittingly tensed in surprise, before forcing myself to relax. I couldn’t believe Grey had just outright told them the brunt of our plans. Focusing back on the conversation, I was unnerved when I saw that my slight movements hadn’t escaped the notice of Cassandra.

Meanwhile, the dwarf had burst into laughter at Grey’s words. “That’s some cosmic fucking irony right there!” He hooted. “Breakin’ people out of the prison ya built with your own gods-be-damned hands!”

“I assure you, I’m not blind to the coincidence,” Grey said with a strained smile. “Nevertheless, with the blockade in place, I’m cut off from my own ship and cannot Captain this rescue myself. Therefore, I find myself in need of Marrowmist’s assistance. I assure you, I’ve brought enough to pay for the service.”

Alphonse and Cassandra exchanged glances while Ruben continued chortling to himself. Alphonse turned back to Grey with an overdone apologetic look on his painted features. He shook his head. “I’m afraid…that won’t be possible, Headmaster.”

Grey’s smile faded, his eyes flicking back and forth between the leaders of Marrowmist. “And why is that?”

Rubens laughter died down. “Because we were paid a fuck ton of gold not to intervene, that’s why.”

“Specifically,” Cassandra interjected. “There was a requirement to not assist you.”

“These Loyalists, it appears that they’re aware of your,” Alphonse paused for a moment, visibly searching for the words. “Historical ties to this town. Why, you’re practically a living relic of Marrowmist! A valuable antique, one might say.”

Grey hummed to himself. “Is that so? My my, is that all they wanted from you, in my regard?” He said calmly.

His unspoken implication hung in the air. Several of the large Marrowmistian guards that had been lingering nearby tensed up, causing our group to react as well. Venix stepped forward to stand at Grey’s side, his huge frame an intimidation in and of itself. I tried to step a little bit more behind Grey, so my slow reach towards my dagger was obscured.

Turns out, I needn’t have bothered.

“Nah,” Ruben said, unphased. “They wanted us to try and take ya too, if ya showed up here. Bugger that, though.”

“As strong as we are, we’re aware we would need to get quite lucky indeed in order to overcome your brutish might, Headmaster,” Alphonse simpered, hiding his mouth behind his hand.

“We took the gold, of course,” Cassandra said bluntly. “But it’s just not worth the risk, so you and your little flunkies can relax. Still, that doesn’t mean you’re going to be getting a ship out of us.”

The tension that had filled the air slowly dissipated. Through his robes, I was able to see as Grey’s back untensed as well.

“Hmm,” My mentor crossed his arms in though, drumming his fingers on them. “Quite a conundrum. I quite emphatically need to reach that prison. You’re willing to forsake the Loyalist's desire to capture me, but not their want for you to deny me service?”

“Turning ya away when ya come for business is one thing,” Ruben started.

“But actively turning on one of our own is another,” Cassandra finished with a smirk.

Alphonse let out a delicate-sounding snort at the others words, but didn’t contradict them.

Grey bowed his head slightly. “…out of us.” I heard him mutter to himself. Raising his head, he smirked at the Triumvirate. “Out of pure intellectual curiosity, what would happen if I were to say, convince one of the Captains in this fine establishment to accept my commission? Hypothetically speaking, of course.”

Alphonse rolled his eyes and flopped back in his gilded throne with a huff. Meanwhile, it was Cassandra and Ruben who exchanged smirks this time. Cassandra turned back to face Grey. “Hypothetically, that Captain would be directly defying one of our decrees, and would be in violation of the Marrowmist charter. They would be immediately sentenced to a term of exile for no less than five years, and would owe significant recompense after that term if they want entrance again.”

Grey sighed, reaching up to massage his brow. “I see,” He said tiredly.

Cassandra dropped all pretense. “It’s going to be a hard sell, Grey,” She said, not un-sympathetically. “We frankly needed that gold, and can’t afford to offend customers like them when their pockets are so deep. There’s a lot of uncertainty going around right now, and not just because of the war. The seas have been rough lately.”

Ruben impatiently waved a nearby server over and snatched another goblet of booze off their tray. “It’s like someone pissed it off or something,” He grumbled over his liquor.

“You have free reign of the town, I won’t deny that to you as a signatory,” Cassandra said to Grey. “But that’s it.”

“Very well,” Grey said, meeting her eyes. They exchanged nods. “I’ll leave you to your evening, then. Is my reserved room still open to my use?”

“Of course it is,” Alphonse said irately. He shooed us away with one limp hand. “You may go.”

“Come along, my friends. Follow me,” Grey said to us, turning his back on the Triumvirate. With one last glance at the rulers of this town, I did the same and followed Grey back the way we came.

I couldn’t help but feel a pair of eyes on my back though. Risking a glance over my shoulder, I met the intense gaze of Cassandra. She smiled slightly at me, before I hastily turned back around and caught up with the group.

……………………………………..

We all followed Grey through the tavern to another set of stairs in a corner. Climbing up it, I found that the third floor was much smaller than the first and second. It seemed to just be a short hallway with a number of private rooms with embossed plates set into them.

Grey led us to one door, covered in dust, that had a faint image of a bird in flight engraved on it. He wiped a hand through the dust, revealing the bird more clearly to be a gull. Afterward, he set his palm on the gull fully, making it glow briefly in a blue light. The lock on the door clicked open a moment later, letting Grey open it easily. Inside, the room reminded me of an old-timey smoking room, in surprisingly good condition considering how neglected the door had looked.

Grey strode across the room while we were milling about to a small bar on the far wall. Taking down a bottle of a dark liquor, he uncorked it and took a swig. Azarus walked over to the bar as well and accepted the bottle of booze from Grey. He grabbed a glass down from the wall and poured himself a finger of the liquor, before shotgunning it in one go. He made an impressed noise at the taste, and poured himself another. “Well,” Grey sighed, turning around to us. “I won’t quite say we’re screwed, but things have become substantially more difficult.”

Meanwhile, I flopped down onto one of the incredibly comfortable looking couches in the room with a sigh. God that was nice, after over a week of either hard bench or hard ground. I looked up at Grey. “Yeah, things sound a bit more complicated than you thought they’d be. If I understood that conversation right, then you’re going to have to bribe a Captain around here to potentially risk their entire livelihood for our sake?”

Grey grimaced. “That is…” He sighed. “Essentially correct.”

Sylvia sat down on one of the stools at the bar, while Venix stood by the door and crossed his arms. “What do we do now, Father?” She asked Grey.

“I, am going to need to ‘schmooze’” He said, making air quotes. “With the other Captains down on the second floor. I need to try and convince one of them to risk the trip and certain exile afterward. Perhaps if I offered a commission with a shipping company I can pull some strings at? Maybe a position as a…naval…instructor…at the Academy after the war?” Grey sighed again, massaging his brow. He looked over at his daughter. “Sylvia, something else worried me. Ruben said that the sea has been angry for some time. Could you perhaps scout the town, try and figure out what he’s speaking of?”

Sylvia nodded, standing up. She paused before she left, and then turned to kiss Grey on the cheek. “Good luck, Father.” She said with a smile, pulling away.

Grey touched his cheek with a returning smile. “You as well, my dear.” At that, Sylvia left the room, nodding at me on the way out. Once she was gone, he turned to me. “Meanwhile, I think it would be good if you and Azarus,” My dwarven friend looked up from his glass of liquor at the sound of his name. “Attempted to mingle with the crew on the first floor. Perhaps you’ll have some luck, and hear about a Captain fallen on hard enough times to accept our commission.”

I stood up with a disappointed groan from having to leave my new best friend, the couch. Popping my back, I addressed Grey with a smirk. “Am I going to have to punch a guard to get up on the second floor if we find anything?”

Grey rolled his eyes. “No, that was just Skinflint being Skinflint. Simply inform the guards that you have an urgent message for Captain Whitegull and they’ll let you through.” Azarus set his drink down with a disappointed groan of his own, causing Grey to roll his eyes. “There will be plenty of alcohol for you to drown yourself in downstairs.”

“Probably not as good though,” Azarus grumbled.

……………………………………..

“YEAH!” Azarus roared, already sloshed after his fifth mug of what the locals only called ‘grog’. He waved his sixth mug around wildly from his place in the crowd ringside of the bare-knuckle brawling pit, spilling booze everywhere. I don’t think he even knew which of the two heavily muscled human men fighting he was rooting for.

After Grey’s explanation, we’d split up in the direction that he’d suggested. He had wandered down to the second floor, with Venix trailing after him like a bodyguard. Meanwhile, Azarus and I had gone down to the first floor, and ordered some drinks.

Things had degenerated from that point.

I took a sip of my drink, something I was pleasantly surprised tasted like a hard root beer from back home. I was trying to keep an eye on both the tavern floor and my friend at the same time. I wasn’t too concerned about Azarus, though. I knew he could burn the booze off in seconds if he was actually in trouble.

Meanwhile, I couldn’t say I was having an easy time snooping on the booze hounds of the first floor. The few people I’d tried talking to had either told me to piss off, or outright threatened me. I’d resorted to eavesdropping in order to try and gather information for Grey.

I couldn’t exactly say that a bunch of blackout drunk pirates were the most riveting conversationalists, however. In other words, I’d learned jack and shit.

I sighed into my mug. At least this stuff was good. I took another drink, allowing myself to enjoy the slight buzz I had going.

My attention was stolen, however, when one of the doors on the far wall banged open. From what I’d seen, those were the game rooms, where people went to gamble away all their ill-gotten goods. Two human pirates marched out of the game room, dragging a third, Sculpted pirate behind them by his arms.

I felt my blood run cold at what I saw around his neck.

A slave collar.

The world slowed down around me as I found my vision narrowing down at the unexpected sight. It had been over a month now since I’d seen one at all, ever since we’d escaped Addersfield. In a distant corner of my mind, I could feel a quiet voice telling me that I shouldn’t be surprised. Even though outright slavery was outlawed in Herztal, these were pirates. Of course they’d be involved in illegal activities.

The rest of my mind was hardening. I could feel something deep down inside of myself growing colder. It was as if a spark of purpose that I’d discovered since I’d freed myself was frosting over with a familiar hatred that I thought had died with Magnus.

Sparing Azarus a single disinterested glance, I saw that he was just fine. He was a big boy, he could take care of himself.

That Sculpted couldn’t.

I waited until the two pirates dragging the slave passed my table, and then stood up and dropped a few coppers on it. Discreetly, I followed behind the group, making sure to utilize every trick Sylvia had taught me to avoid detection.

Out into the streets of Marrowmist.