End Online: Volume 5 Read online

  There are several hundred players around as well, tending to the boats, smithing weapons, or haggling over stolen goods. Off to my right, I see the river narrows off to the north and south. I imagine that this river connects to the ocean; there is no other reason for so many pirates to be anchored here.

  “Welcome to ‘Smuggler’s Bay’, where all pirates from this ‘ere area gather,” CaptainGordon lifts his chin and says proudly.

  “Umm, is it good to show us the location of this place?” I ask him while still looking around at everything. “I mean, isn’t a location like this supposed to be a secret?”

  “This close to that ‘ere town? Nay, it not be a secret. Most players from the area know of this place. There be several other pirate bays as well. As long as we don’t tie our ships up next to the merchant’s, they don’t mind much. This be only a game.”

  I nod my head just to drop the subject, even though I still don’t understand. We walk along the shore toward the north, where I assume CaptainGordon’s ship is.

  “Gordon, headin’ out with a new crew? Make sure to catch some big ones this time!” One pirate calls out, following up with booming laughter. The captain only clicks his tongue, ignoring the comment and moving on.

  We eventually reach a ship anchored along the shore of the river which I can only describe with a single word; strange.

  The boat is about thirty meters long and ten meters wide, not the smallest boat in the immediate area, but also far from the largest ones that seem to be almost twice its size. What is really eye catching about this boat and makes it unique is all the tarnished grey-iron plates attached all over the sides of the bow like patches. The hand railings around the deck of the ship and even the two masts are made from some form of black cast iron. I can’t see properly from ground level, but I can vaguely make out more cast iron supports on other sections of the pirate ship.

  There are seven holes in the side of the boat with cannons sticking out, and I assume there are an equal amount on the opposite side.

  The two large triangular sails seem ordinary enough, and the black pirate flag billowing in the wind at the top has the image of a strange cannon with three barrels. The figurehead is a bowed piece of polished wood, with nothing carved into it yet.

  CaptainGordon stares up at the ship with boundless pride, “This ‘ere be my ship, the ‘Bastion’.

  Chapter 30 – Voyage on the High Seas (Part 1)

  -Lost-

  I stare up at CaptainGordon’s ship, the ‘Bastion’, and struggle to find any kind words to describe the vessel. The weight of the metal hanging on the ship causes it to sit incredibly low in the water, so much so that I feel like the ship will sink at any moment. While modern day ships are made out of metal, they are all specially engineered. The metals used to construct them they are made from are special alloys as well, not simply cast iron and the like.

  Despite the iron panels randomly attached to the side of the hull, I have to admit that the black cast iron railing and other architectural décor does have visual appeal. I look over at CaptainGordon, and he is looking back at the rest of us with shining eyes. He appears to be waiting for us to sing praises about his ship. A quick glance at the others reveals they have all pursed their lips in dissatisfaction.

  Unsure what to say, I speak neutrally.

  “It’s definitely… unique.”

  CaptainGordon seems to take my comment as a positive one, and repeatedly nods his head while saying, “That it be!”

  The pirate operates his menu, invisible to the rest of us, and soon enough a plank extends out from a narrow slit just below the deck. As soon as it reaches the full length, it drops on an invisible hinge and creates a bridge from deck to shore.

  The captain steps up on it first, walking toward the ship. We all hastily follow suit and walk up the plank.

  Once on the deck of the ship, I can see the layout and the decorative cast iron clearly. The deck is separated into three different sections: the main deck which takes up most of the ship, a small raised quarterdeck at the bow of the ship which would be used to lookout over the ocean, and the helm at the stern, sitting on a platform raised over the other two levels in order to provide a good vantage of the ship’s course. I can vaguely see the polished mahogany wheel, but another cast iron railing is in the way.

  Below the stern are two symmetrical doors leading to the ship’s internals. Like the metalwork adorning the rest of the ship, the door frames and doors are also made out of cast iron, with intricate patterns and artwork carved into them. I feel an urge to see what is behind those doors, but restrain myself.

  CaptainGordon is busy running around the deck, lifting up the anchor before pulling on various ropes and pulleys to operate the sails. One sail suddenly drops and fully opens and the vessel begins to move through the water. Once the second sail is unfurled, the speed increases. By now, the pirate is at the helm, steering the ship through the water.

  ‘What a slow ship!’ I think, stunned and incredulous.

  All of the comments I’ve heard about this pirate suddenly make sense. His infamy stems from both personal quirkiness and the ineffectiveness of this ship.

  I walk up to the captain and voice my concerns. “CaptainGordon, how long do you think it will take to reach the island?”

  “Aye, I can’t be too sure. Don’t know how far the distance be.”

  “Uh huh. Also, why is it that not a single person from the docks would take us south yet you are more than happy to?” I have a suspicion that there may be more at work than meets the eye. This guy is technically a pirate after all.

  “Ye searched for a capt’n down at the docks? Ye be searchin’ in the wrong location. There be nothin’ but merchants there; cowards who never set sail beyond the coast.”

  “But you’re different?”

  “Ships be meant for battle. That be why I took the life of a pirate. The merchants fear the sea monsters, but not I.”

  “I think I get it now. There are two types of sailors; merchants and pirates?”

  “Aye, that be correct. Merchants be those who make money by carryin’ cargo and tradin’. Pirates be those who raid those merchants, or sometimes act as mercenary guards. It all be involvin’ gold though!”

  “Are there any other types of sailors?”

  “There be a few odd ones. People who like to fish, or dive in the deep ocean. They be rare, though.”

  Looking around the deck of the ship which only contains our party and Mikhail’s, I can’t help but let curiosity get the better of me, “CaptainGordon, why is it that you don’t have any crew?”

  “Hmph, what do you think I be doin’ in that town?” He replies stubbornly.

  I can tell that the lack of crew is a touchy subject for CaptainGordon and stop pestering him, letting him focus on navigating the vessel through the river.

  The waterway is wide enough to fit three decent-sized vessels side by side. The banks of the river are lined with rows of trees, preventing any of us from seeing further than fifty meters to either side.

  On our way out, a ship twice the size of the ‘Bastion’ is swiftly sailing back to the wide section of the river to return to the other pirates. I note several holes on the side of the hull, a broken railing around the deck and a splintered mast. Despite all the damage, the crew on the deck are shouting loudly in celebration and drinking alcohol with abandon.

  We finally reach the ocean by mid afternoon, and all the players are already lying in the shadows of the sails panting from the hot weather. I find myself joining them as my cloak seems to be getting less effective as the day gets hotter.

  Looking through the gaps in the handrails, I see a medium-sized vessel not much larger than this one. From the lack of a black pirate sail, I can assume that it is most likely a merchant ship. They continue on their way without paying us any attention and we do likewise.

  By the time the sun sets, the main continent gradually begins to vanish on the horizon. CaptainGordon enters one of the two d
oors leading to the bow of the ship, returning a few minutes later with a large quantity of mechanical lanterns on large hooks.

  Mason, Matrix, and I help him hang the lanterns around the ship; we hang them off the railings, hanging ropes, masts, and anywhere else needed to provide enough light to see by. As we set each lantern, we light it by turning a copper valve and pressing a button to spark the gas.

  The pirate then moves up to the small deck on the front of the ship and slides open a wooden trapdoor which I never even noticed was there. A cast iron crank swings up on a well oiled hinge, making not the slightest squeak. Furiously turning the crank, which is absolutely not silent, a strange cone-shaped contraption slowly starts to rise up from beneath the floor.

  The entirety of both parties walk up to the captain out of curiosity. We end up crowding the front quarterdeck, causing CaptainGordon to shout at us in irritation. Before leaving, however, we each get a good view of the device.

  The creation is rather simply designed. It consists of a copper pipe running to a gas outlet, fitting at the narrow section of a cone-shaped piece of highly polished steel. On the gas outlet I notice some kind of strange muzzle, vaguely similar to the flash suppressor on a modern-day gun, only more extravagant.

  Lighting it with a similar method to the lanterns, a bright yellow flame soon gives birth inside the cone which acts as a mirror to focus the light from the flame forward and into the ocean. The concept is the same as the old lighthouses, just on a smaller scale.

  He then turns a second crank several times before releasing it. At first it appears to have done nothing, but then the sound of gears grinding can vaguely be heard below the deck. The spot light gradually begins to turn left, before turning back to the right. The light moves across the water, clearly operating on some form of spring loaded system.

  “CaptainGordon, is that…?” Unable to hold back my curiosity, I pry for more information.

  “Aye, my own creation.”

  “Wait, what? You created this?!”

  “That I did.”

  “But how?! And how could…?”

  “Metal craft,” He starts avoiding eye contact, seemingly nervous about something.

  I am too enthralled by the spotlight to notice his disposition. “Surely there must be more than that. And what about the source of the gas?”

  Suddenly the boat rocks violently and all the flames in the lanterns flicker dangerously. We all lose our footing and fall down onto the deck as well.

  “W-what?!” I cry in confusion.

  Everyone else is clamoring and trying to stand back up. I am not the only one looking back and forth, trying to find the cause of the collision.

  “It be a sea monster!” CaptainGordon shouts for everyone to hear.

  I look over the railing at the ocean with Fen next to me. The night is pitch black, but the lanterns we lit allow me to see the water within a few meters of the boat.

  There are small waves lapping against the edge of the ship, but the vessel doesn’t budge an inch. A vague shadow passes under the surface, followed by several smaller shadows enlarging from pinpoint centers.

  The surface of the ocean explodes as a dozen long, slithering tentacles erupt upward. They reach a height of fifteen meters, and are about two meters thick at the water line. The undersides of the tentacles are covered with dark purple suction cups. In the lanterns’ flickering lights, each tentacle appears doubly menacing.

  The captain shouts out. “Everyone! We need to fight the tentacles off until none be left! Each one be an individual enemy with its own health! Lockon, SomaHealer, Fen, we be the weakest in defense, so we go below deck an’ man the cannons.”

  Mikhail the Stalwart nods toward his two party members, Lockon and SomaHealer, to follow the pirate’s orders and operate the ship’s cannons. Fen looks at CaptainGordon disdainfully for a moment before grasping my arm and ignoring him.

  I don’t dislike her grabbing on to me and refusing to leave my side, but I do worry that one day it may lead to her being in danger. At least I don’t feel like this situation is life threatening.

  “CaptainGordon, Fen will be best off staying up here with me. She is not defenseless, and I will protect her.”

  “Okay, you know ‘er best. It be your judgement.” He looks curiously at Fen, but doesn’t pry further.

  “I will, err, answer yer question after,” the captain says before rushing off to one of the doors leading below deck with the two players from Mikhail’s party.

  Fen and I move back to the main deck just as several tentacles begin to attack. Three of them slam down toward the players on the deck. They don’t move fast but they hit with the weight of a mountain.

  Sir Laurence protects Verde, raising his shield up and using a sacred art that creates a box of shield sigils around them. The tentacle hits the shield and multiple fractures spread from the centre of impact, but it holds and they remain safe.

  Everyone else moves to dodge the other two tentacles which hit the ship and break several sections of the deck. Mikhail is the most skillful, dodging with minimal movement and instantly launching a counter attack, a golden aura emanates from his sword as he conducts a five-strike sacred art. A health bar appears next to that tentacle, with about ten percent of its health removed. His party members don’t fight with any synergy, frantically attacking any tentacle within their reach.

  Fen and I aren’t targeted by the first attack, so we are able to immediately launch an attack. Our party has worked together for long enough that no words are needed in times like this. We all make eye contact, then focus on the tentacle which attacked the prince and Verde.

  Sir Laurence’s shield dissipates into fading lights and he slashes the tentacle from a defensive posture. His attack does minimal damage that can barely be measured on the health bar that appears. Verde attacks with a strange sacred art which consists of a single stab, but the damage she does is comparable to a single scratch. Verde’s speciality lies in attacks which hamstring, disable, or otherwise produce negative statuses on her target. These tentacles are a big problem for her.

  “Verde, could you go down below deck and help with the cannons?” I ask after flashing by and slashing the tentacle, my speed allowing me to cut through its defense and doing damage similar to Mikhail’s sacred art.

  “Yes, do you know the way?” She understands my concern and agrees immediately.

  “Only that it is the door on the right. There should be a staircase down or something.”

  She nods her head and retreats from the deck. The tentacle our party is attacking lifts up and away from the deck, retreating out of the range of our melee attacks. Fen and Mason take this opportunity to demonstrate their value by turning the tentacle into a pincushion of arrows and ice spears.

  The tentacle quickly reaches fifty percent health, but two of the previously inactive tentacles join the fray. Suddenly, a massive explosion sounds from below that causes me to jump in fright. Sir Laurence chuckles lightly at me.

  One of the tentacles buckles and nearly falls back into the window as a cannon ball hits it in the center of its flesh. It rises back up, frantically waving back and forth, with only sixty percent health remaining.

  ‘Forty percent of its health taken off by a single cannonball!’ I think, shocked at how formidable this vessel’s cannons are.

  Multiple explosions take place as more cannonballs find their targets, and one of the tentacles is killed and falls back beneath the surface of the water. The new assault seems to cause all the tentacles to enter a berserker state. The eleven remaining tentacles writhe ferociously and lash at us and the ship with a whip-like, frenzied attack.

  We no longer have the option of attacking, so we focus our attention on evading and defending. Fen and I get off the easiest as our speed completely outclasses the speed of the attacks but still are buffeted by the shockwaves and splintered wood flying everywhere. Sir Laurence dodges one and then raises his shield and deploys his sacred art to defend against another t
wo. The shield barrier barely withstands the collision of the first tentacle, and the second shatters it and flattens Prince Charming onto the deck.

  The damage is quite severe, taking off a third of his health and inflicting him with a sinister poison status, but I struggle not to laugh at the pitiful sight of him going face first into the deck. I will always remember the moment when the most prideful person I know fell flat on his face.

  Mikhail the Stalwart’s group is having a harder time of it with one of the members dying. Moonkite is at low health, struggling to consume an antidote to remove the tentacles’ poison before death claims her. I know how the player’s body becomes weary and eventually unable to move the lower that player’s health falls. Seeing Moonkite successfully consume the antidote at five percent health remaining, I can only sigh in admiration at how much willpower it must have taken.

  Pulling Fen close to me with one arm around her waist, I take a defensive position next to Sir Laurence with Mason and Matrix joining. The ship’s deck is in tatters with holes everywhere the eye looks, leaving me a little worried about the floor collapsing. One of the cast iron railings is also warped and bent inwards from the tentacles pushing in on it as it attacks.

  Sir Laurence summons his sacred art to shield us while Fen follows my commands and erects a multi-layer ice barrier to cover and reinforce the prince’s shield. The ice shields block off all light from the outside lanterns, but Sir Laurence’s sacred art emanates a soft light that prevents our surroundings from becoming pitch black. We all take out our healing items and restore as much health as we can in the short time frame we have.

  I bring out a few ‘Orange Medicinal Herbs’, consuming half immediately to begin my health regeneration. According to some off-the-cuff calculations, my class skill will enhance the effects of the herbs enough that I should recover up to about eighty percent health. I try to disentangle from Fen to feed her the rest, but her hand grabs my wrist to stop me.