Today is a day filled with wonderful weather. No storms, calm winds, and nary a cloud in the sky. It’s a very peaceful night. As peaceful of a night anyone can have at the sight of nearly a dozen vessels parked around a tower. Of the eleven ships, nine fly the same black flag with an orange flag underneath while the last two ships fly only an orange flag. All the ships are tied to the tower's base with camps already erected.

“[Pirates]. Why is it always [Pirates]? Why can’t it be [Merchants]? Hell, I’d be fine with the Tower people too.” I whine as I sit on Myers' shoulder. “I really don’t want to have to hide and wait for them to leave. Why are they even here?”

The old man lowers the spyglass after a moment. “They are trading.”

I raise an eyebrow. “How do you know that?”

“They fly the Tiger’s eye.”

“And that is…”

“The orange flag. [Pirate Captains] from the Gambino family fly the flag when they wish to trade. Those who trade with the family are respected and left unmolested for some time.”

I sigh. “Myers, you can’t just spew out names and expect me to understand what the fuck you’re talking about.”

The old man gives me a grin with the full realization he’d done this on purpose.

“[Pirates] are generally disorganized with a few exceptions. One of those exceptions are the Gambino [Pirates]. They are a blood-related group of [Pirate Captains] numbering in the thousands. They are organized, powerful, and the leader of the family sits as one of the Corsairs.”

“Mafia. They’re a [Pirate] mafia.”

Myers bobs his head. “That is a good way to describe them. They, unlike most [Pirates], have a stringent code they follow. One such code is that they do not attack anyone they trade with.”

“So if we approach for trade, they’ll ignore us?”

“So long as we do attempt to trade. I imagine they would not look kindly on us if we don’t offer them something worthwhile.”

If I was part of a Mafia with rules, I’d be kinda upset if said rules were abused too. Wait a second!

“Why do you know so much about them?”

The old man closes his spyglass and places it into his coat pocket. “I was… tasked with hunting and destroying a group of them. This involved a great deal of research on the family.”

“How’d the hunt go?”

The old man scowls. “Poorly. Their information network exceeded my own at the time. The amount of wealth they possess allows them to have an extensive network of spies- including ones in the nobility.”

“I see. Well, I’m up for trade. We can sell the runed weapons from the castle and the glaive I got from the [Bounty Hunter]. Also whatever else Cillian chooses.”

“Then we best prepare something orange as a flag. I doubt they’d attack us if we approach, but risks need not be taken.”

“Agreed. I’ll go tell my crew.”

With a pounce I jump off Myers shoulder and rush inside the ship.

_________________________________________________________________

The party is in full swing and Karson Gambino is partaking in excellent wine. A nice, dark red color that splendidly goes with his tie. Grinning, Karson raises the glass to see any impurities, only to grin wider when he sees none. He takes a sip slowly before returning his attention to the party and the guest of honor- his grandson Emmanuel Gambino. As of today, the kid starts his career as a [Captain] aboard the Destroyer Anadasta - a gift from yours truly. A costly gift, but a worthwhile one as a starting vessel. You can’t find Destroyers with thick hulls outside of those produced for military purposes.

Just as Gambino is about to take another sip, he sees one of his men rush to him. “Boss, there's a ship approaching. A frigate class.”

Karson raises an eyebrow. Though he has the Tigers Eye raised, he also has the Gambino flag hoisted as well. That alone should deter anyone from approaching. Hell, his cored galleon alone should deter even [Bounty Hunters] from approaching. It might be better to just blast the ship out of the sky.

“Does the ship hoist a flag?” He asks.

“It does…” the man says with hesitation.

“Well, spit it out then.”

“The flag looks like an orange blanket, boss,” the man says nervously.

Karson frowns. The fact they have the colors of the Tigers Eye requires that he allow trade. But, besmirching the family by using an orange blanket is a grave insult to the family that must be properly punished. This is the reason the man before him is nervous.

Karson shifts his gaze back to the vibrant party. Meat is being roasted over a fire, music is played by excellent [Musicians], and his wife is happily dancing with his grandson while father, mothers, aunts, and uncles watch. It is a beautiful and momentous day that Karson would prefer to end on a peaceful note.

“Allow the ship to port. Have some men help tie it down. Then direct the [Captain] to me alongside whatever they wish to sell.”

“Yes, boss.”

As the man rushes off, another chuckles from his side.

“Gramps, that’s abnormally nice of you. I’d think you’d set an example for your grandkid about respecting the Tigers Eye.”

Karson smiles towards his adopted nephew. A bright man that married his daughter decades ago with a generally positive outlook on life. An amazing choice for his daughter. “Marco, I should have guessed you’d be listening in on my conversations.”

Marco Gambino shrugs. “Can't help it. You’re a constant font of wisdom. Speaking of wisdom, what's the reason for allowing the ship?”

Karson leans into his chair and takes a sip of wine. “It’s nice today and I’m happy. I’d rather avoid blood if I can.”

His Nephew grins. “If I can is the significance there.”

Karson chuckles. “Yes. I’m going to see what they’re offering to sell. If it pleases me, I’m willing to allow the insult to slide.”

If you discover this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the violation.

“Hah! If you allow the insult to slide, I’ll even gift the [Captain] one of my extra Tigers Eye flags.”

Karson rolls his eyes before refocusing on the party. His family is far more important. Always is and always will be. That is the Gambino Way.

___________________________________________________________

When Myers said mafia, he fucking meant mafia. The Gambino are wearing suits. Full-on black with white striped suits and a tie. The only difference between them is that some of the [Pirates] have differing ties by color and pattern. When we are near, they quickly assist in tying down the Timbergrove. As soon as we plop down the boardwalk, one of the well-dressed [Pirates] rushes to patiently wait at the bottom.

With just a cursory glance, the [Pirate] has a club on one side and a triple barrel blunderbuss on the other. This is mimicked in some way to all the others, though more often with hand crossbows instead of a firearm. Regardless, any fight against them is going to involve a hell of a lot of initial ranged damage.

“Me, Cillian, and Irmgard will depart. Everyone else will stay on the ship.”

Nepenthes clicks her legs in agitation. “You enter a nest of bees, Matriarch. Would it not be better to bring additional wasps in case they find you a threat?”

“Bees don't sting unless threatened. A large group of wasps is a threat in and of itself. Now, Cillian, did you prepare what you’re going to sell?”

Cillian grunts in the affirmative under the weight of a bunch of sheathed weapons on his shoulder.

“Perfect, let's go then.” I hop into Irmgards arms and make our way down the plank.

Just as we reach the bottom of the plank, I take a cursory glance of the man while he does the same to us.

Joseph Luciano: Level 49 [Consigliere]]

The man frowns. “Where is your [Captain]?” He asks in what seems like annoyance. I’d even argue that he looks as though he is insulted.

“Right here.” I wave a paw from my perch in Irmgards arms.

The man's hand twitches towards his sidearm for a moment, but self-control wins. He stares at me for a moment before slowly nodding.

“You wish to trade with the Gambino family, correct?”

“That’s right.” I answer.

“Then follow me. The boss wants to see you.”

We follow the well-dressed man deep into the Mafia den. We pass numerous people, tents, and eventually arrive at what looks like a backyard birthday celebration. There is music, food, dancing, and even games. There are even children running around as well.

We are directed to the corner of the party where a clean shaven man sits behind a table with a glass of wine in hand. His cheeks are slightly red and he has a grin on his face.

Right until he sees my group.

The grin disappears and turns to a glare.

Karson Gambino: Level 61 [Underboss Captain]

The fuck did I do?

Karson extends a hand in front of him.

“Take a seat.” He orders.

Immediately, several chairs are placed in front of Karson, right across the table.

Shit. He seems pissed. Did we come at a bad time or something?

When we take a seat, the man leans back and clasps his hands. “Can I offer you a drink? Food perhaps?”

Alright. Maybe not pissed. Just very Mafia-like.

I hop out of Irmgards lap and onto the table. “Milk.”

My words startle the man. His hand twitches to the revolver on his hip, but only twitches. The goons surrounding don’t have such self control. Numerous ranged weapons aim in my direction. I of course continue grinning and making eye contact with Karson.

A long several second exchange of stares has Karson raise a hand and wave at the goons.

They quickly resheathe their guns and step back.

“Apologies, my men can get a bit jumpy when startled. Now, you said you wished for milk.”

“Room Temperature if you have it.”

He nods and glances at the rest of my crew.

“Would your crew like anything?”

Cillian licks his lips. “That wine you’re drinking looks quite good.”

He then glances at Irmgard, but the woman shakes her head.

Karson looks towards one of his men. “Get some warm milk and a bottle of the wine I’m drinking.”

“Yes Boss.”

As the goon rushes away, Karson returns his attention to us.

“I’ll be honest, I very much wasn’t expecting to meet a [Captain] in such a form.”

I don’t think anyone does.

“Not a bother. I’m used to the reactions. It’s not every day you meet someone of such superior species such as myself.”

“Superior?” Karson raises a brow.

“Of course.” I stand and walk around slowly. “Do you see this fluffy coat and the grace of my movements? This is not something other species can ever hope to reproduce. And just so we’re on the subject, I’d like to also mention that I am one of the more superior specimens of my feline kind- ahh. Introductions!”

I rise to my back legs and do a heavily practiced bow.

“I am Quasi Eludo, [Captain] of the Timbergrove, hero of many worlds, and the most fluffy sovereign to ever exist. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

At my introduction, the man sitting next to him bursts out laughing. “I-I can’t.” the man spurts even while Karson shifts his glare.

“Marco, control yourself.”

The man's laughter subsides to a slight giggle and a fervent grin. “Sorry, sorry, but this is hilarious. Easily the most interesting coming of age party I’ve been to.”

I perk up. “Coming of age party? Who's the guest of honor?”

Karson seems to quickly forget about Marco as he gives a proud smile.

“I have just bought my Grandson a Destroyer. By the time he awakens tomorrow, he will be a full fledged [Captain] and start his career in service of the family.”

Oh! Mafia’s love their families. Let's see if I can get a bit in his good graces.

“The Gambino family, right? I’ve only recently heard about you guys and it seems what I’ve heard is pretty correct. You guys respect and love your family just as much as you love honor and loyalty.”

Karson grins warmly. “Family above all is the Gambino motto. As for honor and loyalty- what man can love family without both traits?”

“Family above all. I like that. Who coined the term?”

“Tony Gambino. The first Gambino and the one who got the family business started. My Great great grandfather.” he explains excitedly.

Next to Karson, Marco grins as he realizes what I’m trying to do, but chooses to just watch for the moment.

“Oh? Now that sounds like an interesting story. Was it difficult for Tony to start the family?”

“Ha. Difficult is an understatement. The amount of suffering the man had to endure for the family- I could go all night. But, I’m sure you don’t have the time. You’re here to trade, right?”

“I am, but I’m fine with waiting. I can sell goods anytime, but listening to how a Mafia Boss came to be is something of a rare occasion.”

For a moment, Karson's smile slips a little. He wants to talk about his great great grandfather and all of the man's amazing deeds, but something feels a bit off.

“Actually, before you begin.” I raise a paw at the party, “Maybe have the children join us. I’m sure they’d love to listen to the deeds of the founder.”

Karson blinks and glances at the running and giggling children. They’ve probably heard some of the stories growing up, but probably not from someone who’d met the guy in all his glory.

“Yea. That’s a great idea.” Karson exclaims while Marco suppresses a snort.

I give Marco a wink while Karson isn’t looking at me and the man starts laughing aloud.

Karson glances at his Nephew, annoyed at the man's inability to not make a scene. “Marco, what's gotten into you?”

“I’ll tell you later.” He says.