When I came to, I saw not a sliver of light. Or perhaps I saw just that, given how massive I imagined Mani to be. The sliver- The Moonsliver, was a Pearlsteel-hulled behemoth of a ship that stretched a jaw-dropping 392 meters out into the frigid waters and towered 78 meters above the waterline.
The crew of almost three hundred scrambled for it immediately. As if it were under the threat of disappearing, they darted across the pale-stone of the docks and raced up the towering stairs to be the first on deck and remembered at the last second that such a right was reserved for the commander first, and then the officers. And so, we tentatively stepped- the Commander included, up the stairs to stand on the largest deck I ever placed my feet on.
41.7 meters was the full beam of the deck and besides the sail-less mast, it was dominated by three, triple-barreled cannons tucked - somehow - neatly inside mounts as large as a merchant's home. Or perhaps a noble's, I thought after seeing the many chairs and couches and tables and other bits of furniture spread elegantly across the space. No lines or sails cluttered the place either. Nor was anything attached to the towering fin-like mast, only terraces and balconies jutted out the aft-end, akin to a shark's fin, capped with strange domes or spinning bits that somehow scanned the surrounding area better than our eyes and ears ever could.
Six floors, it housed, and it was vast. Holding enough space for our quarters, workstations, offices, and much more. Most of us, at least, for Captains Stronghull, Sinoshk, and Seadog’s quarters were below the main deck, close to their workstations but in quarters I assumed to be no less elegant than ours.
Besides the glass doors sliding open on our approach, the first thing I noticed upon entering was the pleasant warmth of the air. It hit me like a wall as I entered, making me stop and turn my eyes about the posh couches, potted plants, and illusory mirrors arranged atop polished marble floors set below hanging chandeliers. There was more to the floor besides an officer’s mess and galley, I presumed, but my clone of darkness- Rip- shoved me onto a broom closet before I could begin exploring.
It sealed shut on its own like the glass door, leaving me in a box of wood grains, potted plants, and sourceless music while my clone calmly pressed a switch in the wall.
“It’s a lift,” he said once a noticeable force pushed against my feet. “This one’s yours. Leads straight to your workstation and quarters.”
“Ah.” I nodded. Then almost stumbled once a wave of vertigo came over me, but the doors pulled apart to reveal something miraculous.
It was just what I envisioned I’d have after a long life of piracy. A room- a home that felt like a part of nature. Like my quarters on the island stronghold that once was. Open to the air and rain. Flowering plants and reaching vines covered the illuminated walls, sending a dozen shadows across the live moss and porous stones making up the floor of the circular landing. And one of those glowing mirrors encompassed the entire ceiling, giving me clear views of the night sky despite there being tons of metal above my head.
In an alcove off to the side of the circular landing was a bed wide enough for me and three others to lay on either side of me, filled with a material softer than clouds. And I had a head with a bath and a shower that poured a rainfall of the purest, steaming water. Back inside the landing, I had a cooling box, a hot plate, an oven to store and cook my food or brew my coffee, and a dumb waiter to bring food to my crystalline table from below the main deck. And for my beloved wine, I had an entire closet that could make chill to the touch in mere hours.
But still, there was more.
I had not quarters or a home, even, but a wing. A study sat in an alcove next to my room. And across from them both was access to my terrace. My private balcony, complete with chairs, tables, and even a small pool to relax and soak in the views afforded by this magnificent ship.
Even on the mast’s third deck, the crew appeared as ants as they scurried about the aft, belting things down, or going over the many air and watercraft stored inside the hull. The hangar, that area was. A deck of interconnected platforms capable of lowering into the hull and raising those flying machinations- planes, onto the deck so they could take flight. Judging from Amun’s foresight in building the devices to fit halflings and the zeal shown in Captain Woodgrain ordering his crew around, it seemed a role the manic captain was destined for.
The same could have been said for each of us.
According to my visions and the illusory mirrors, Captain Stronghull’s domain was on the lowest deck, just below Woodgrain’s and entirely below the waterline. Yet, Stronghull’s territory encompassed the length of the ship, for he had the most demanding job out of all of us, maintaining constructs around the terrifyingly powerful crystals that provided us with heat and light and these information-granting devices. On top of that, he was to use what we salvaged or looted in the sprawling workshops found below to replace, repair, or remake anything on the ship that needed maintenance. But like all true dwarves, he and his crew took on the burden proudly.
Deck three was almost entirely Seadog’s realm. Her quarters sat at the heart, with easy access to the skiffs and other boats clamped down tightly in the warehouse-like spaces on the port and starboard sides. Her crew was not far away either, shortening the time it’d take for them to scramble to the boats, unfurl the massive ramp designed into the hull, and race off toward enemy ships or shores.
Although the aft end was occupied by the indoor farms and fish hatcheries, the forward end contained similar structures for the goblin-helmed swimming boats- squid or shell-shaped constructs of Pearlsteel, capable of swimming below the surface as easily as a fish. For the crew, there were the mid and forward portions of deck two and the majority of deck one. The former was their space of leisure while the latter boasted their elegant quarters, save the munitions store and Captain Sinoshk’s quarters.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
Through some link I had yet to comprehend, I could watch his crew toil about from the comfort of my room. From my bed, I could stare up and watch them ferry hulking munitions that appeared more like crimped pipes than cannonballs. They were mostly formed of brass or perhaps even gold. Saved the crimped portion, which had the undeniable sheen of adamantine. And they were large. As large as the hulking Sinoshk’s torso and perhaps more.
The look on his face told me he was just as eager as I was to see what they could do to an enemy encampment. But the wistfulness of my heart tugged me off of my bed and into my lift. Down I went, to the second level of the mast to gaze in wonder on the many games and bars and other features and amenities of the officer’s lounge before I turned tail, stopping at the fourth level to catch glimpses of the brig and the quartermaster’s vast level before Vexx hounded me back into the lift to see a singular room of blinking lights and screens on the fifth level. My workplace.
Rather than leaving through the door I entered from, I took the door next to it and stepped into a corridor following the length of the ship. A similar set of doors sat before me, Lu-Lu's quarters, no less extensive and far more exuberant than mine. Picking a random direction, I went aft and was met with a windowed lounge that opened up to a bare-bones terrace. Forward, however, was a plush room of silvery furniture bathed in red light. A large glass table sat on top of a thick pedestal straddled by plush thrones that dominated the room. One throne sat to port and the other sat on the starboard side. Both were surrounded by a comfortable array of those obsession-inducing illusory mirrors that- as my clone tried to tell me- contained all the knowledge in the realms and then some.
With a mere touch of them, I could read everything there was to know about the surrounding waters. The depth of the water below the ship: 3.12 kilometers. Wind direction and speed, northeast at 2.3 meters per second. Our current heading and speed, due south and zero meters per second. As I could in my room, I could observe the goings on in any important part of the ship. The hangar, the munitions bay, the tender garage, the torpedo bay. Even my room, after I made a password for myself.
Swordfish.
The glass table between my seat and Lu-Lu’s could do more, however. A touch of it enabled us to see the cigar shape of the peninsula from Mani’s perspective. With another gesture, I could focus on any point in the region, bringing the streets of a city two kingdoms away into fine view and more, bringing little windows into view to read about the goings on of that place. There was even a voice to read it to us in case we were otherwise preoccupied.
As the navigator- as a pirate, it was an invaluable tool I quickly became lost in. Throughout the night I performed my job as a navigator diligently and made marks of the many challenges and interests open to us along the course of our journey. I wrote down and did my best to memorize the meaning behind the various blips and motes of light that seemed to float above or below the glass. The latter wound up being a simpler task. A hollow box was any unidentified and moving thing. A solid circle represented large creatures, be they of the sea or air. Triangles marked other vessels. If any of the three were red they were an enemy marked for judicious extermination. Blue was friendly, silver was unknown, and gold was non-hostile. Aside from that, their positions above or below the glass represented their position above or below the water's surface.
As for the latter, I learned many interesting things that only God’s perspective could offer. I saw evidence of conspiracies against the Vrurian Empire along the Mazian border and another against the Chaulort Kingdom near the Kingdom of Rhar’s borders. I saw mana-fueled fault lines ripping the hearts of Vruria and Ligin apart. I saw epidemics in the likes of Knighilia, Rhar, Chaulort, and the Kasian Empire taking root. I saw intense areas plagued with regular earthquakes, tsunamis, cyclones, and blizzards. I saw hints of ancient ruins. I saw signs of pirate rookies. I read tales of dangerous lake beasts and sea monsters and used these amazing devices to make suggestions for our course and send them up to the Captain without having to disturb him with a visit. And when the sun rose, I did as everyone else did and began training and learning how to make the most of the Moonsliver.
This magnificent ship was faster and more maneuverable than any ship in existence. Just as fast as the ship the Commander defeated us with, despite its absurdly larger size. It had no sails or propellers to push it forward, instead using the tremendous power of the arcane crystal to shoot jets of water from the aft end to push the ship forward, backward, or even sideways. Though we had yet to fire the cannons, the sheer size and count of them made me certain of it being deadly enough to stand against a Kraken, not to mention a nation. Each housing boasted a three-pronged cannon similar to the one we saw in action. Only these were much larger and were straddled by two slightly smaller cannons with spiraling grooves down the interiors of the barrels.
It was so elegant that I’ve rarely seen anything that could compare to it. And it was more luxurious than anything I assumed I’d ever live in. Even the lowest-ranking crewmen had private and spacious rooms. Even though they were destined to work with massive cannons or fight inside sinkable ships or scrap within flying boxes, they’d been given pools and spas and elegant dining halls for them to have their fun in during their off time.
The Moonsliver was… invincible. Capable of traveling on the open seas indefinitely. Water- pure and fresh, could be extracted from the seas on which we sat. Fruits and vegetables of all kinds could be grown year-round in the blindingly bright halls below deck and fish from both the salty sea and from fresh lakes could be bred in vast tanks by the hundreds. It was, by all rights, a mobile fortress. One that, we learned during the voyage, would make the famous city of Chor look like the slums of Brybs in comparison. Thus, when the City of Bards finally appeared on the horizon, few were seen hanging from the rails to witness the sight. Instead, they were in their rooms or the common areas, their eyes glued to the many data slates, terminals, and looking glasses.
Perhaps they were weary from their long hours of training and learning the intricacies of their new jobs, and so chose to spend their time of leisure- the current time- watching the humans and Felipians and goliaths and striflings- the Captains of the Legio Noctis, using different types of technology to make their way to Chor.
Regardless of the reason why, only a few of us saw the Commander and Quartermaster step from his balcony and use flames and mana to launch themselves out of the illusory camouflage and over the open waters toward the City of Bards, silently kicking off our period of leave.
“I can’t wait until I can do that.”