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I'm A Boat
Chapter 8: What Do You Do With A Drunken Sailor

Chapter 8: What Do You Do With A Drunken Sailor

Last time I had been in town all I had managed to hear was the sound of boats coming and going and the few sailors coming and going to their boats. This time I was close enough to the main wharf that I could hear all sorts of interesting conversations.

“Have you tried out that new bakery yet, John?”

“Can't say I have, Pete. Just, the missus is working on her own baking Skill right now. Not sure what she'd do if she caught me eating someone else's bread at the moment. Probably cut me up and use me as seasoning for her next batch of loaves.”

“The key word there is catch you, innit? You look free enough to go do what you want.”

“I used up all my luck getting her to marry me. I’m not about to risk it just for some bread. I can put up with some poor tastes now if it means fine meals forever.”

As the pair wandered off I picked up another conversation, this one between two women.

“So, I hear that the Maria managed to catch a whale last week. It just floated right up into the nets, presumably chasing some fish of its own and got stuck. I'm amazed they didn't capsize the boat trying to pull it in. Especially with the captain still so young and unskilled.”

“He lacks skill, not Skill, my dear.” I took a moment to appreciate that this society with its integrated Skills had developed rigid pronunciation for those words that made it easy to tell which version of the word they were talking about. “He’s been serving on his uncle’s crew since he was seven. His passives are as high as anyone’s even if he might not have the practical knowhow to back them up just yet.”

A third voice joined into the conversation, dropping into a sultry range as its bearer shared her own interesting tidbits of information. “I overheard that he managed to change his class recently, and that he hasn’t told anyone what it is now, not even that girl he’s smitten with. Wouldn’t surprise me if he had something useful if it's good enough for him to not go flashing it around like a man with…”

A dozen more conversations went past in a similar matter. By themselves, each one was little more than gossip, information about the daily lives of the Shellpinites that was shared to keep everyone feeling connected. As I heard more and more of it, I was able to begin to connect some of the hints and clues buried within their language, using a dozen coincidences to make one reasonable assumption.

It was fascinating and started to really give me a picture of just what sort of town this was. Even if I couldn't see it I could start to put it together in my mind, a cozy community where everyone knew and cared about each other, even if they were more than happy to gossip about the latest happenings. Skills were commonplace; everyone had some and were incorporated in just about every aspect of life. Skills for baking, skills for fishing, skills for selling products, skills for making projects. It was a dazzling array of them and did a lot to expand my knowledge of just what skills were capable of. It was gratifying to hear confirmation that both passive and active skills existed, but nothing I eavesdropped on mentioned the drain of using active skills as something to be managed. I’d have to do some thinking about my circumstances before trying too hard to get a passive Skill, since they were always active. If they truly didn’t draw anything from the person using them, then that was one thing, but it could just be that they didn’t notice that draw, given it was below the amount of energy they naturally provided. I didn't hear much information about classes at all, my guess was that it was considered more personal information than most, something only shared with close friends and in private.

However common Skills might be, magic seemed to be much rarer. Or at least, things the townsfolk recognized as magic were rare. From my perspective Skills were clearly unnatural but everyone had such easy access to them that they were just another part of life. Spells, enchantments, rituals, and everything else that I considered actual magic were different from what most of the regular people were talking about. Not once did I hear someone mention anything about repairing enchanted goods or purchasing a potion or having a spell cast for them and it really made me begin to understand just how valuable Lirillin’s service to the town was. His job was important enough that rush jobs were a necessity, but rare enough that someone living an hour away by boat was the best option available.

I did wonder why he decided to live all the way out at the lighthouse instead of living in town. It wasn't like the townspeople were complaining about their home being overly full of people, and it sounded like there was even plenty of space to expand and build new buildings on the outskirts. For some reason my enchanter decided to live an hour away from here by himself. It was a small mystery, one that I would hopefully find some more clues for as I continued to spy on people.

The color of the conversation slowly changed as the evening went on, moving from socialites catching up for an afternoon stroll, to workers heading home after finishing up their jobs, to a few scattered people greeting each other as they efficiently made their way to their destinations. The tide was noticeably higher than it had been when I arrived, and the passersby were greeting each other with ‘good night’, but there was still no sign of Lirillin.

I wasn’t actually all that worried for him. He was clearly both well-known and well regarded by everyone he had encountered coming in to town, and the general tone of conversations hadn’t given me the impression that Shellpin had a particularly dangerous nightlife. The odds were extremely low that Lirillin was lying bleeding out somewhere, about to leave me alone in an alien world. Instead, he had probably just made the smart decision and decided to rent a place to sleep after getting drunk. Even if he had managed to make it home safely last time we had visited, that didn’t tell me much about the actual amount of risk he was taking travelling in such a condition. Surviving doing something stupid doesn’t mean it wasn’t a stupid thing to do, it just means you got lucky. And unless Lirillin had a secret luck Skill, it wasn't something that he could count on to keep him safe every time he was out at sea while sloshed.

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I had just about decided to call an end to my eavesdropping session and relax for the night myself when I picked up the sound of a larger group heading my way. Even at a distance it was obvious that they were a bit more boisterous than was proper for this time of night, and my observations as they drew closer only confirmed that suspicion. They were chatting plenty loudly, but the words weren’t coming out smoothly and they had a habit of repeating the same words as if it would help the information somehow be processed better by their audience. It was the festive air of a group of drunks out for a bit of fun having run out of coin or alcoholic tolerance for the evening. Between the slurring and the lack of context I didn't really follow what they were saying, but it didn't really matter. Their purpose in being out and about became clear as they came to a stop on the pier above me, their conversation naturally coming to a lull as they waited for one drunken mind or another to remember the next step of their plan. Eventually one gruff voice spoke up, sounding slightly more put together than his friends, meaningless as that qualifier might be.

“We been able to ignore your lack of seamanship for a while now “Rill, but now that you've gone and gotten yourself a boat with a name it's time we fix that up for you. Now I already know you know how to swim but you need to learn what to do if your boat goes under especially if you're in something this tiny and flimsy.”

The audience seemed split on his judgement of the boat, half joining in with jeers of their own while the other half argued on the redeeming qualities of enchantment. At least I thought that was what they were saying. I was more focused on the personal implications of this drunken plan.

Before I could panic and break my cover, Lirillin, the speaker, and one other man all clambered down and took their separate seats. I couldn’t see just how close to full I was on my character sheet, but I knew that the amount of weight on me had to be close to my limits. I sat noticeably lower in the water, and every little wave threatened to overcome that delicate balance of forces that kept me afloat. Unfortunately, they never got the chance.

“Now the first lesson is to not panic. Sure, it's going to be scary out there on the ocean with the waves crashing in on you but the worst thing you can do is lose your head. So, once you get yourself calmed down and thinking clearly, you should try and take in the situation and figure out what you have to work with.”

Upon hearing these words, I suddenly felt my worldview go through a 180 as I was suddenly rolled over upside down, tossing my three passengers out into the water with a splash. It soon became clear from the noises next to me that two of them were able to easily tread water even wearing their clothes. Lirillin’s situation was a bit more precarious. Being drunk definitely didn't help him but even without that hindrance the sputtering noises he made gave me the impression that he wasn't the best swimmer even when fully in control of his faculties. I heard the thumping on my hull as Lirillin made contact with me and began to scrabble his way up my side, letting my buoyancy take some of his weight.

“Not a bad job there, Rill. While it's possible to survive by yourself if you get washed out to sea, it's a hell of a lot easier if you’ve got something else with you. A plank, an overturned boat, a four foot tall melon, anything you can use to help keep above the water makes your job that much easier. It’s easy to tread water for a few minutes, but only someone with a lot of stats or powerful skills can do so indefinitely, and they probably would have just started swimming for home. You aren’t in that category, so your main job is to stay alive and floating until your situation changes.”

With Lirillin having survived his sudden dip in the ocean without needing a helping hand it seemed like the other two men took the time to climb up on top of my floating structure and pull the enchanter up to sit between them. My sense of my hull gave me a pretty good idea of where they were sitting, and the bubble of air trapped underneath me meant their resting place was stable for the moment. The leader began to speak again, this time his voice was a bit more commiserating.

“No one likes to think about it, but the sea aint the safest place to work or live on. I’ve lost my ship twice. Once was simply a bad storm that sent me one way and the deck the other, but the other time was a sea dragon that decided it needed some wood and humans in its diet. Fortunately, it wasn’t one of the monsters that can just swallow a ship up whole, but our ship wasn’t floating for long after it started tearing chunks out. It took three days before another ship managed to follow our distress spell close enough to grab us survivors. I wish no one else would ever have to experience what I did, but that just ain’t gonna happen. The most I can do is make sure all of my mates are prepared for if it does happen, to make sure they can get home if at all possible.”

Once again he picked up a commanding tinge to his voice as he prepared to impart his next lesson. Being lost at sea is mostly a waiting game. You’re waiting for someone to come find you. You're waiting for a current to bring you to shore. You’re waiting for the experience of being shipwrecked to gather to the point where you can get the Skills needed to make it home by yourself. You’re waiting for the next disaster to happen, knowing you don’t have a lot of options to deal with it. It’s waiting, but it’s not wrong to say that every moment is a fighting moment, fighting to stay sane and alert in case something else happens.

The man had dropped his voice slightly for those last few words, possibly remembering some accident or another. You could feel Lirillin lean closer to the speaker. His sudden dunk in the water having knocked off most of his drunken state of mind.

“Like what, Carter?” Lirillin asked, lacking the social ability to stay away from what might be a sensitive subject.

I revised your assessment of the situation a moment later when Carter spoke, a smirk somehow audible in his response. “Like this!”

He snapped his fingers and the world responded to his cue for action.