There was a time for grief, and it was good to get it out. But Threadbare was wise, and knew that holding onto grief would only make it grow. So after a time, when he'd collected himself, he went and worked with the engines some more until his tinkering skill had grown to level four, and a daring bit of adjustment gave him what he was looking for.

You are now a level 2 Tinker!

DEX+1

INT+1

With a rush, he felt his energy return to him. His mind got out of the dark place it had gone to, and he was back to his full focus again, though his situation had not otherwise improved.

This was the advantage of leveling up; Sanity, Fate, Moxie, and Stamina would all refill the instant a person gained a level.

Which was why he had refrained from taking his last crafting job for so long. He hadn't really needed to use it, given his new position and responsibilities, and in the event that he got into a tight spot where he couldn't risk waiting ro replenish his resources, he could fill that last slot and be ready for whatever may come.

It was a small victory, but it helped Threadbare feel a bit more in control. And with his mind somewhat settled he felt confident enough to go exploring.

He was a guest, after all. If he strayed into someplace forbidden then the worst he would get was a request to relocate.

Threadbare decided to start on the top deck. The ship was long, perhaps fifty meters from one end to the other. Stern? Bow? He was a little fuzzy on proper nautical terms.

The front of the ship was flat, but the back had a... cabin, yes that was the term. There were two stairways on either side of a door, and the stairways led up to the roof of the cabin, and the wheel of the ship. The door was locked when he tried it, and a crewbunny came hurrying down from the rigging when she saw him climbing up the door and jiggling the handle.

“Best to be leaving the Captain alone,” she said, eyeing their captive. “Be there something ye need, princess?”

“I'm just looking around,” Threadbare told her. “It looks like I'm going to be here a while, so I thought it would be good to learn about... well, here.”

“Aye, well, that be the captain's quarters. Ye just came out of the main hatch belowdecks. Over there—” she gestured to the front of the ship, “is the hatch to the forecastle. Which on most ships is the section of upper deck that's closest to the bow, but fer this one we call the for'ard cabin the forecastle. Because Cap'n Anne said so, and what she says goes.”

Threadbare nodded and looked upward. There was a single large mast in the middle of the ship, and two smaller masts, one fore and one aft. Yes, those terms sounded right, he reflected. Sails and rigging criss-crossed between the masts, and each one was topped with what looked like a large, inverted wooden bucket. Crew sat up there and watched out for trouble, he recalled. It had probably been where this crewbunny was sitting, before she spotted him poking at the door.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

“Thank you for telling me these things,” Threadbare said. “I really don't know much about boats.”

The crewbunny winced, and tugged on one of her earrings. She had to reach up a bit to do so, because of her overly-large ears. “Ah, don't ever let the captain hear ye call this a boat. Boats are vessels that are carried on ships. If a vessel can't be carried on a larger vessel, then she be a ship.”

“You're very helpful. I appreciate it,” Threadbare said. “Would you like to come with me and show me around?”

“Nay, I be on watch. Captain's orders. Got to sound off the second the scouts come back.”

With that she scurried back up the mast, and Threadbare decided to make his way through the forecastle hatch.

It led down to a narrow hallway, with a door on one end and a ladder going down on the other. The door was a bit ajar, and he just made out the sound of shifting wood on wood, and the rustling of cloth.

“Hello?” he called out.

The rustling stopped, and a veiled face poked out, eyes flicking over him. “Hello,” said Stormanorm III. “Did you need something?”

“I'm looking around,” Threadbare said. “What's in here?”

“Well, up until yesterday, an assortment of... uh, guests that we were going to drop off during our escape. But you saw what happened with that. They were the halvens, that beastkin, and the two humans.”

And Renny, Threadbare thought, but he stayed silent. It looks like they hadn't noticed the little fox golem, had written him off as a toy.

They weren't used to Cylvania's golems, that was clear enough. He filed it away under something to think over later.

“We were actually thinking of giving this room to you while you're... staying with us,” Stormanorm continued. “But now we're shipwrecked, so I'm searching it for useful stuff those ass... uh, honored guests might have left behind.”

Threadbare considered the door, then nodded. “I'll help you look.”

“Sure, come on in.”

The room was curved on one end, walls coming to a point on the opposite side from the door. It was wide but not particularly long, and he rather thought that it was a bit small for five people. But then two of them were halvens, so that was something perhaps?

The signs of the prior occupants were everywhere. Fine sheets had been hung to curtain off sections of the room, and a chamberpot nearby had spilled a bit during the crash. It probably smelled quite bad to anyone who was breathing. A table, bolted to the floor, was a centerpiece to the room, and the remnants of a meal were strewn about it. Beyond, curtains that were tilted open due to the angle of the ship on the ledge showed bunks set into the walls, and bedding that was hanging off of the wood and leather strapwork that stood in for mattresses.

“I'm not seeing a lot from here,” Threadbare said, and made his way back behind the curtain.

“I picked things over pretty well already. That and I don't think they left too much. Ah... I'll go ahead and clean up the chamber pot so you don't run into the mess by accident. These things are supposed to seal if they tilt, but they've never worked properly. So hopefully we'll find a better batch to steal at some point.”

“I'll let you know if I find anything,” Threadbare replied, poking back around the little living area that had probably accommodated the halvens.

There wasn't much to it. Two bunks. A few shelves, that were quite empty. A clothes mannequin that Threadbare thought could serve as an animi if it came down to it, and a stain on the floor from some prior meal that trailed underneath the lower bunk.

Since Stormanorm was being nice about cleaning the chamberpot, Threadbare rather thought the least he could do was clean this one, so he went back, got a spare sponge and bucket from the distracted beastkin, and set to work.

It was quite a long stain. Spilled wine or something of the sort, and it stretched all the way to the back wall. It was very tight under the bunk, barely tall enough for him to stand upright. He had to leave the bucket outside as he worked, returning for water whenever the sponge got dry.

Then his hat caught on the wood above him, and he glanced up, trying to work it free without ripping.

It had caught on a splintery line, carved into the frame of the bunk, he saw. A line that met several other lines, to form the shape of a bear's face.

And next to them were tiny, carved words.

READ + REMEMBER, they said.

Further down was a series of symbols. But they didn't make much sense at first glance.

RDBOSS + BY 4 CL

2WIZ REV

9ROG

KNIROG

KINGROG

It was a secret message, and there was no doubt that it had been left for him. But what did it mean?