“My dear, it is a simple yet thrilling tale. I know you may doubt me, but we simply came upon the ship by pure chance. Even more unbelievable, it was the easiest score I’ve ever taken.” He pauses to sip his rum and gesture towards me, “My dear friend Utah here took the ship by himself. He truly is a sight to behold once he sets against his fellow man…”

I hold my hand up for a pause, “Mam, he’s being modest. He did save my life during the fight.”

Zijde bursts out laughing, losing his composure momentarily, “Utah, don’t be so humble. It’s unbecoming of a man that killed dozens of people simply to be apart of a pirate crew. Granted, I’d have tried to do the same if I was working for a swine like that.” He turns back towards Mrs. Brown, “Please excuse my outburst, but if you had witnessed his performance you would surely understand. I simply kept Utah here from being shot in the back is all. He took the prize himself.”

Mrs. Brown looks at us expectantly as if she was waiting for a punchline. After a moment her look turns to shock, “My God, you two are being serious? Well, if you are half that good I may need your services before you set sail Mr. Utah. Anyways, back to the topic at hand. Since these goods are no doubt “hot”, I won’t be able to offer you the usual fifty percent. I think an even thirty percent will be fair?”

It only takes a moment for Zijde’s warmth to disappear into a cold intensity that gives me chills, “Mrs. Brown… I know your husband has made some questionable financial choices of late, but do not insult me. If you do not have twenty-five thousand pieces of eight I will allow you to pay me in a two piece installment, but what you are suggesting is dangerously close to cheating me not once but twice. You and I both know 50,000 is fair... I enjoy your company Mrs. Brown. I’d rather not do without it.”

As the color drains from her face a smile as charismatic as it is menacing creeps across the Captain’s face, “Good, I see that we are in agreement. I want fifteen thousand as the first installment.”

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful after our meeting with Mrs. Brown. The rest of the cargo was offloaded into the Brown’s dockside warehouse. Once that was done a group of shipwrights were busy replacing the crippled foremast. With nothing else to do the entire crew gradually migrated to a dingy tavern/brothel on the outskirts of the city.

As I walk through the door, most of the crew were already well on their way to being drunk. The second thing I noticed, were a few players throughout the crowd. The system has an odd way of designating players. There are no indicators, but you just instinctively know they are players. You just have no idea who they are of course. Unless you know their face.

I walk up to the one closest player and sit down across from him. I haven’t talked to a player since I was chased out of Port Royal. The first impression of this guy is someone that is just barely holding it together. His eyes are lifeless as his cheeks are hollow. Almost as if he had been sustained on nothing but the rum he is draining down his throat now.

“You’re looking pretty rough man. You ok?”

Not even bothering to look up he cusses at me with the enthusiasm of a dead fish, “Look, this game is atrocious. Don’t pretend that you enjoy it. If there was anyway I could get out of my contract with Rio Grande I’d never log in again.”

“Damn, I didn’t think it was that bad. I guess I did have some luck recently though.”

As he looked up his eyes went wide with shock, “No fucking way, Utah is sitting in front of me. Holy shit! I saw the recaps of you taking that ship! I followed you before the game was out as well. You did some amazing things in the military. I’m hate what happened though, you weren’t given a fair shot at all with those charges.”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

I take a moment to process the excited rambling he just spouted off at a hundred miles and hour, “I didn’t know I have fans…”

The realization that the player population knows I have a huge chest of gold on my ship crashes down on my stomach.”

“So what was your favorite part of the recap?”

He starts off again at a hundred miles and hour, “I love when you use the cannon to take out the men along the railing. It was like twenty of them in a blink of an eye! I still can’t believe you got on with a pirate crew so fast. Your like the fourth player to do it. This game just now getting exciting to watch!”

“Oh, so where did the broadcast stop?”

“Uhm, I think right after you finished your conversation with that captain. It pick back up when you were getting chased by that Spanish woman. That was some great acting when that kid died! I actually believed you cared!”

He recoils a little from the hard glare on my face, “I did care. The kid was fifteen. How could I not.”

Notification

  Skill Level Rank   Intimidation 13 --> 14 1

I get a nervous chuckle in return, “He’s just a fucking NPC man. It’s just a game.”

I guess it’s my turn to recoil. It is just a game, but it sure as fuck doesn’t feel like one. I feel more connected to the “NPCs” than I have anyone in the real world in a long time. What the fuck does that say about my mental state?

“Hey man, you ok?”

I blink as the guy in front of me brings me back to reality.

“I was asking how you deal with the pain?” He gestures towards my face.

“This?” gesturing to my nose, “Hell it isn’t much. I deal with worse than this on a daily basis. I mean in the real world. This only hurts if it’s touched really, but all the mouth breathing is getting old though.”

“Damn, that’s right. You were in that motorcycle wreck weren’t you? It's worse than that? Still?”

I think back on all the suffering from the last few years, “Yea… it’s that bad.”

“Damn, your lucky Utah.”

“Come again?” I’m not sure how to take that. It flabbergasts me more than angers me.

“I just mean I wish I had that kind of pain tolerance. I sprained my ankle a couple weeks back and it’s still hard for me to work. Hell, I’m starving in game and in real life. There just isn’t anything I can do. I never should have signed that fucking contract.”

“Yea, that’s hard to swallow. All I can say is opium is cheap in game. You just gotta push through, or you could off yourself.”

“Yea, but I hear the sensation of dying in the game is awful. That and I’ve made some contacts with the NPCs. I don’t wanna have them lose all memory of me not to mention the stat loss. Maybe it’ll be in a worthless skill like rope working, or it could be my fucking shooting skill. You never know what you’ll get a reduction in.”

I think about what I want to say for a moment, “Well, I can give you some advice. Caring about the NPCs makes it a lot easier to push through the not so fun parts of the game. You need something to do? What are your five highest skills I might put a good word in with my captain?”

The player opens up his menu and send me a stat brief.

Liber Frontz

  Skill Level Rank   Mathematics 35 1   Chemistry 29 1   Metallurgy 28 1   Rope working 16 1   Shooting 12 1

I look at his stats… and realize I just came across the person I need to take the next step in my plan.

I try to hide my excitement as I hold his gaze, “What’s your name?”

“Liber Frontz, good to meet you.”

As I shake his outstretched hand, “I think I can get you on my crew. But first,I have a few questions about those skills.”