Well at Least I’m a Magic Pirate Now

Erastus 2

The light of dawn crept into the treehouse some hours later, it’s warmth crawling up the gnarled wooden walls of the cramped room. I snuggled close to Sosima, my face pressed against her soft, warm skin. I had no immediately pressing business forcing me awake just yet. I still had half an hour before my spells returned, and my body ached from the prior day’s exertions. Unfortunately, my mind was awake even if Autopilot was still dozing, and the treehouse didn’t even have the most comfortable floor I’ve slept on.

I checked my mission log, but there were no new quests. “Kill Barnabus Harrigan to achieve mythic ascension” was definitely not on the day’s agenda. Temporarily resurrecting Sosima and fucking her brains out didn’t qualify for any kind of prize, since she was only the third of five women I needed for Layer of a Thousand Women’s next tier. She wasn’t safely off the island, either, so no quest reward. I hadn’t even met Aaron Ivey yet, so obviously that quest was still sitting pretty.

I’d turned in the mission to save Owlbear and the rest the night before, since their quest had a less stringent definition of the word “save.” The rewards were a book I had not yet examined and +1 to my constitution. The constitution boost was to an odd number, so it had very little mechanical effect. I could hold my breath for slightly longer and would have one more negative hit point before death; both benefits could save my life, but only in situations I really wanted to avoid anyway.

In the final minutes before autopilot woke up, I flipped through my bestiary for anything strong against ghouls. Another Dretch could certainly do the job, but I didn’t think more demons would be a good idea. Owlbear had managed to pin the one summoned right on top of him, but if he hadn’t been there I would have probably found nothing but mangled corpses. I needed to summon something less rebellious.

Once I was notified that my spells were back, I grudgingly escaped Sosima’s embrace and rummaged through my bag of magic loot. We couldn’t leave until Dierdre returned, or she’d be flying around looking for us all day. It was time for identification.

There hadn’t been all that many magic items, so I’d volunteered to carry most of them. One, a huge, rune carved whale skull, had been heavy enough that only Owlbear could haul it around. I sifted through the rest, letting Autopilot study the magical auras.

The Queen’s spear and wand were, unsurprisingly, some of the most powerful treasures. The spear was a style popular among minor aquatic shaman, created from a single large bone taken from a powerful aquatic beast. It was known as a Vindictive Spear in the common tongue, though the proper name was a trio of gurgling syllables in Aquan. It would fly true when thrown, even under water or through heavy currents, and return to the thrower’s hands. In addition, it would change size to fit any wielder and was as strong as tempered steel despite being bone. 

Summary: +1 returning harpoon, negates penalties for fighting underwater (Spellcraft 20+8= Critical Success)

That would go straight to Rosie, but she’s on the bench for the foreseeable future. I’ll probably give it to Sosima; she needs a weapon and armor now that she isn’t a ghoul. She can use better weapons, but this might be her best ranged option for a while. 

The Queen’s wand was a bit of driftwood carved with an augmented holy symbol of the goddess Lamashtu, depicting her as a stylized octopus. It was mostly depleted, but contained a limited form of the Druidic spell Summon Nature’s Ally II. Used properly, it could summon an octopus 9 times. 

An… octopus. A normal octopus. You mean like the one that I managed to take on with an undersized spear? That’s not all that threatening, but I guess it’s better than nothing. Then again, apparently Autopilot can’t reliably use it because it is a divine magic wand. 

We had found another wand which was more intact, and had been used as a hinge for an ornamental model shark’s jaw. The heavily enchanted wood had been supernaturally sturdy, and it seemed as if that was the only property the grindylows had identified. The spell contained within was Mirror Image, a more powerful version of Sandara’s doppelgänger that created multiple illusory duplicates instead of just one. Even better, it had twenty one charges left and was an arcane spell. That meant that autopilot could intuitively use it without rolling, unlike the octopus wand.

Then again, maybe I could learn how to use wands? It’s a DC 20 check, so it’s hard but not impossible. I’d be a lot less likely to get my dumb ass killed summoning octopi or applying buffs than I would running around with a spear. 

The pair of thick iron bracelets were known as Lesser Bracers of Archery. They guided the wearer’s hand and steadied their grip when firing a bow. 

Do they help with my rays? 

No. 

How about Rowe’s gun?

No. Archery only. 

Crossbows? Rowe can make those too, I think. 

Bows. Shortbows, longbows, composite bows, but no crossbows and certainly not other ranged weapons. 

Well that’s not very useful to my party, now is it? I don’t think any of us even have proficiency in bows. 

An interested and wealthy buyer might pay as much as 5000gp for them, as they provide a reliable boon to a very common fighting style. 

5000? I take it all back, this is great loot. That’s ship money. 

The book was probably the most valuable treasure of all, but had no resale value. Autopilot couldn’t even tell that it had a magical aura, but when I held it I felt it’s purpose and name hum through my body. It was known as a Manual of Retraining, and it was a special one-use magic book that would allow me to rebuild a character sheet, replacing all feats and class levels without changing race or base stats. As I focused on each member of my party, I could sense the likely results.

I’d be given the ninja class if I used it on myself, which would turn me into a pretty solid burst damage dealer with a few handy magic tricks. Unfortunately, it was a clean slate, so I wouldn’t keep any of my bonus feats or talents. I wasn’t sure if I’d get anything in return, but I didn’t want to lose Call Planar Creature. It was just too damn versatile, even if it did guzzle spell slots.

Sosima would become a ranged magic focused binder, and Sandara would become a Shaman of Besmara instead of a cleric. Both were fairly lateral moves; Sosima would get the ability to bind multiple spirits and Sandara would get more sustainable magic at the cost of healing power.

Syl, Cog, and Rowe would be impacted the most or the least, depending on how you measure things. While the three of us who were already PCs would change to emphasize a completely different fighting style, the three cohorts would retain essentially the same build. The only difference would be that they would be the Player Character version of themselves. Cog would become a Darkness Defender, making him get stronger any time he takes damage, along with some self healing. Rowe would become a Mad Scientist, and I’m pretty sure you can guess what that would look like. They were tempting, but I only checked them for the sake of completion.

I mean. It feels pretty obvious who to pick. Cog is already hard as nails, and Rowe practically carried us in that last fight. There is room for improvement, but they are fine as they are. Syl is perfectly competent, but she’s not really shining in combat and heal checks are going to become less vital the higher level Sandara gets. On top of that, I trust her 100%. Cog blatantly has ulterior motives and I don’t actually know how loyal Rowe would be if offered something she wanted. I’m pretty sure Syl is in for the long haul. 

I placed my hand on the book, and willed Syl to be empowered. “Mutagenic Soldier” would pump up her stimulants at the cost of making them too toxic for anyone else to drink safely. She’d become a better melee combatant, as well as a better healer and poisoner. Her surgical skills would also manifest in the ability to apply a damage over time bleed debuff. She lost very little in the process; the buffs she passed out were nice, but only lasted a minute at a time.

My chanting woke up Sosima, who stretched languidly on the floor with a yawn. She watched me with an appreciative eye, which I returned. After all, she was still quite naked other than her earrings and the tiefling illusion they conjured. Personally, I thought she was hot as a human or a tiefling, so I was fine whatever face she wore. I know better than to criticize a woman’s makeup.

“So, Captain,” she asked with a clear British accent, “what’s the plan? I assume we are headed to your ship?”

Not British. Chelish. Apparently whatever translates things to me wants me to know that Chelish nobles sound like elitist movie villains. It’s not like she sounds cockney. 

“It’s not my ship yet,” I admitted, “but the captain has tried to have me killed several times in the last month, so I intend to change that.”

“A mutiny already?” She asked sardonically, “I really was saved by a Shackles crew. I suppose you will want my assistance in some form?”

She dressed herself as we spoke, brushing off dirt and dried semen before pulling her shift and slightly wrinkled dress over her head. She did her best to smooth her clothes and hair out with her hands, but was clearly displeased with her disheveled appearance.

“Alright,” she mused, “Gaston again today. Or Marat, I suppose. Armor is probably worth more than tidiness….”

“You’ll actually need to bind a specific spirit.” I said. “Vishgurv. I’m afraid that the potion I gave you last night is temporary; I just needed you to be clear headed.”

“Clear headed?” Sosima said archly. “I don’t recall much time for consideration last night.”

I reached out with my mind, peering into her thoughts. I’d just revealed a fairly noteworthy lie by omission, and I needed to know how she felt about it. 

That and I think she might actually fail the damn save, unlike Sandara. 

_I will not become that thing again! Her thoughts bombarded me, with a desperation teetering on the line between laughter and tears.Anything but that. Give me the seal! Teach me the ritual! I’ll cut my own throat if I must. Everything is lost regardless, why not abandon my humanity to preserve it? I’ve already fucked an elven urban legend and promised to become an outlaw. What’s one more thing?_

Ok. Sosima needs a blanket and some hot cocoa. She is not as ok as she looks. Also, urban legend?

Drow largely avoided being seen on the surface until a few years ago, and dealt primarily with nations like the Shackles which do not ask questions. Certain radical elven factions considered us a shameful secret, and denied our existence. (Knowledge: History 5+2+10(first hand knowledge)=17. Success!)

Ok, that’s kinda weird. Anything else you’ve neglected to mention? 

Probably. Ask better questions.

“I hope you are not laboring under the assumption that I know how to summon the Aberrant of Time Eternal already.” She said, pulling a pair of foot shaped wooden objects out of her boots. “Vishgurv and his ilk are quite illegal to study, and if I could bind him I’d have swam away from this island decades ago.”

“But you have heard of him?” I asked, “I instructed Dierdre to retrieve the materials from my ship.”

“The one you are not captain of?” She asked, lacing up her boots. “Yes, I’ve heard of him. Making a pact with him is punishable by death, but he’s so damn useful and easy to make a pact with that even rank amateurs can do it.”

“Are you willing to do it?” I asked, nervous. “Why is it illegal, anyway?”

“His influence includes an urge to spread knowledge of Vishgurv’s ritual.” She answered. “If you let him get the upper hand, which includes taking his offer of a second chance at life, you will feel a strong urge to encourage or force other binders to make pacts with him as well. I’ve heard of particularly weak willed individuals taking hostages or even torturing known binders to force them to bind Vishgurv. There are entire subaquatic villages of gillmen who kidnap people from coastal societies, sacrifice them, and indoctrinate the reincarnated victims. Still, it is less contagious and less destructive than ghoul fever on an individual level.”

“That sounds like trouble,” I admitted, “but I think we can manage it. We’ll be spending most of our time at sea, and we don’t have any other binders on the crew. Care for some biscuit?”

“I haven’t actually tasted anything I’ve eaten in the last few decades.” She said, “For that reason alone, I’m actually looking forward to ship biscuit. Hand it over.”

We had a simple breakfast, and when we finished Dierdre was still missing. I left behind a simple carved message for her on the wall.

Went to Aaron Ivey.

With that done, I opened the trap door and dropped the rope ladder to make good on that promise. Sosima waited for me, just in case our combined weight collapsed the worn old ladder. I donned my shade lenses and looked around as my new party member descended.

“Oh, fuck!” I gasped, “Dierdre!”

Dierdre was laying in a heap at the foot of the tree, clinging to a ceramic disk. The right half of her body was blackened, with her wing almost completely missing. The amulet of thoughts glittered at her throat, untouched. I leaned in close to check if she was breathing. She moaned in pain as I accidentally brushed her charred skin. (Heal 6+1=7)

“It hurts, milord.” She croaked out. “Why does it still hurt? Why isn’t it healing?”

Hardly anything has any lasting consequences in the First World, not even death. It’s entirely possible this is the first time Dierdre has recieved an injury that didn’t fade within a few hours. (Knowledge: Planes 9+2=11)

“You got hurt for real.” I told her. “We’ll get you to Sandara. You’ll be ok. Did this happen because of the forest fire?”

“Plugg.” Dierdre rasped, “he saw me.”

So I don’t need to metaphorically throttle Rowe. I just need to literally throttle Plugg. 

Sosima reached the ground, and immediately leaned down to pluck the disk from Dame Dierdre’s arms. The atomie murmured an incoherent protest, but couldn’t stop her.

“You did well, fey.” Sosima said absently, checking the disk, “You may wish to dismiss her, Emrys. She probably won’t be of much use in this state, and we can move faster without her.”

I opened my mouth to protest, anger flaring in my chest. Sosima glanced at me and sighed.

“She will probably recover better in her native realm, that’s all.” She said, placating me, “I don’t imagine your priestess can regrow limbs?”

“Would that work?” I asked Dierdre, “if I just send you home?”

She nodded weakly, and I banished her to the First World with a dismissive gesture. She was in no state to be interrogated. In all likelihood she’d been seen carrying the seal, and singed on her way off the ship. After that, she presumably came here on foot. 

“Excellent.” Sosima said, “this will be most satisfactory. I can forge the pact anywhere I can see the ocean. Shall I do it now?“

“We should probably wait until we meet up with the rest.” I said, handing Sosima the Vindictive Spear. “I don’t want to waste any more time here, and you’ve got until midnight.”

She pursed her lips, but I started walking before she could object. I had a fairly good sense of direction, thankfully. If she’d been able to hold our destination hostage behind the ritual, she might have done so. This way, she could perform the ritual while I met with the elusive Officer Ivey.

••••••••••

Aaron Ivey lived in a cabin hanging off the side of a mountain, quite visible if you knew where to look. The only approach that we could hope to use, save levitation, was a narrow switchback overseen by multiple hidden sniper posts. We were passing in front of one such post when a streak of silvery light descended from on high to lodge itself into my companion’s shoulder.

Sosima has been struck by an Undead Bane crossbow bolt for 2 damage. 

“Blast!” Sosima shouted, “This is my last good dress! I’m not undead, you arsehole!”

The bolt, wreathed in blue-white fire, had come from behind a chest high stone wall we were forced to walk past if we wanted to proceed.

“Get away from her, mate!” A ragged man covered in scrub brush called from behind cover, “Lady Aulamaxa died to ghoul fever more’n a decade ago, that ain’t something you just walk off.”

Ah. There’s the Cockney. He must be lower class. 

“She didn’t just walk it off, sir.” I explained “I resurrected her.” (Diplomacy 11+7=18)

“You don’t say…” Aaron called down. “Alright, mate. If that’s true, I bet you’re eager for the redhead to heal her? Move along, then. I’ll be watching.”

“At least it didn’t pierce the brocade.” Sosima grumbled. “I barely have a bruise.”

As we finished the climb, I glimpsed Officer Ivey several more times from afar. He was a tall, skeletally thin man with graying brown hair. He observed us warily, but didn’t shoot Sosima again.

Maybe he noticed that his bane crossbow bolt didn’t do much? I don’t think a normal ghoul would just shrug off 3d6+2 damage, and I don’t think Sosima was drastically tougher than a normal ghoul. Those things have to be expensive to make. 

••••••••••

The trail ended with a chest high stone wall, beyond which was a large stone landing. The cabin sat above us, a stark silhouette against the light orange sky. The cliff face parted into a deep cave, but most of my party were lazing about in the light rain. Sandara, Owlbear, Rowe, Cog, Rattsberger, Sivikah, and Narwhal were huddled together, recovering from the prior day’s exertions.

Owlbear’s face split into a huge grin when he saw us walking up the path. The big man reached over the short wall and hoisted me right over. He asked before grabbing Sosima and providing the same service; even setting aside the ghoul thing she was not a woman one touched without permission.

“Good news, everyone.” I announced. “Sosima is alive now and we have a plan to keep her that way.”

“Hells yeah!” Sandara cried, standing up, “that’s worth a drink. Can’t imagine you’ve had much in a long time.”

Sandara filled an earthenware cup from a jug, and shoved it into Sosima’s hands before repeating the process with me. Sosima took it thankfully and drank the entire shot, sighing with pleasure as she did. I sipped my own cup of grog; after the last day it hit the spot like nothing else.

Kinda mediocre grog though, and I think it might be watered down. Tastes familiar, actually. 

“Could you heal Sosima?” I asked, “We met Ivey on the way up. He wants proof she’s not undead.”

Sandara nodded and started pouring another round of shots. The pleasant tingle of positive energy washed over the whole party, wiping away Sosima’s mild injury like a smudge on a window. It was overkill to waste a charge of Positive Energy on such a small wound, but casting an actual healing spell would require she put down the pitcher.

“Hey, don’t be wasteful.” I chided her, then looked down at my cup, “Sandara, did you make this with magic?”

“Yeah,” she answered. “Would you believe Ivey doesn’t have anything to drink except water? If we are going to hole up for a while, I’m not going dry for the whole time.”

“How many spells did you cast?” I asked, alarmed, “we aren’t staying here all day. We’ve got to get back to the ship; they’re probably under attack.”

That spell makes three pints of grog; even watered down that’s not a lot for eleven people. They were already drinking when we got here! Did she really just blow her whole allotment of first level spells on making drinks?

Everyone went silent, shuffling their feet nervously.

“We can’t.” Syl said, stepping out of the cave. “Rosie is in no condition to travel and Aaron isn’t willing to take care of her directly. She needs constant monitoring for at least a few more days.”

“Shit, we’ll have to split our forces, then.” I said, “Sosima, how many ghouls would you say are on this island?”

“More than one hundred, less than two hundred.” Sosima supplied, “there are about eight gangs that most of them run with, ranging from thirty to seven members. They are certainly going to attack your ship soon if they haven’t already, but the gangs usually squabble over who gets to strike first. Give me thirty minutes and I will answer any questions you like; I have work to do.”

As she spoke, Sosima pulled a piece of chalk from her dress and began consulting the disk. She made quick, precise strokes with the wet chalk on black stone. I let her work.

She wants to start her forbidden spirit calling career as quickly as possible. I can respect that, especially given how freaked out her inner voice was. 

“Ok, so we need to make a plan.” I said. “Unless you all think Plugg can handle a hundred ghouls, and that he wouldn’t abandon us the moment the ship can sail.”

“The real question is how you intend to run the blockade.” The raspy voice of Aaron Ivey floated down from above.

The emaciated sailor was peeking down over a ledge. I nervously realized that Ivey was watching us from yet another sniper post. I could at least look at him a bit closer here, and he was almost as unsettling as the ghouls. His paper thin skin stretched taught over his bones, barely hidden by his baggy black naval uniform.

The two “survivors” were a ghoul and a starving paranoiac. Great. 

“That forest is crawling with ghouls.” Aaron warned, “You’re not the first people to have this conversation in front of me, and most of the others ended up running their own packs.”