Bog Standard Isekai

Book 6 - Fowler Interlude Part 1 of 2

To live the life of the [Pirate] is to have a thousand stories, and never get to tell any of them. Fowler Brownrig could fill a thick book with each year of his life, and each of them would make even Sir Elatore's adventures seem humble by comparison.

It was a shame that so great a life would be lost to history, but he had no intention of ever writing any of it down. Though, once in a while he gave himself a good chuckle at the thought. “Hi, I'm Fowler Brownrig and here is a list of my crimes.” No, successful pirates were never famous pirates.

It didn't bother him much. His stories were good and fine as they were, even if they belonged to him alone. His very favorite stories were the ones that ended right as a new one started.

For example, when he'd taken that smuggler vessel, killing all hands, he'd thought that his story was done. He'd finally made it rich and now it was time to quit. Then the Westward Daughters had come and slaughtered his crew and engaged him in a tense three-hour stand-off that exhausted every Skill and trick Fowler had and a few he’d never even known he had. They hadn't been interested in the loot at all--they'd come for the killing. After giving them the fight of his life, they'd seemed impressed by his ferocity and decided to leave him alive. Not that it was much of a mercy; the battle had left holes the size of rowboats in the hull and it was taking on water fast.

He'd done the only thing he could think of doing. He'd got down on his knees and begged them to bring him along with them. So strange. So foreign. Did they even know what he was asking? It turns out they did. Apparently, that was the established method by which a fellow could join the Glorious and Victorious Daughters of the Great Green Mother They Who Seek Always the Setting Sun. And that was the end of that story, and the start of the next one.

Today looked like it was one of those fateful days, because Swinton was quitting the Karth. It was almost enough to make Fowler regret sparing him when he and the gals swung up on his caravan all those months ago.

It was two days since their last raid, so they were approaching another one in a matter of hours. It was like clockwork. Every two days. Swinton was going to quit right before he could get pulled into their next assignment.

Swinton approached Greenstone barefoot with his hat in his hands. The hat in his hands was out of respect, and being barefoot was because of the water underfoot. The ground here in the Liminate was always flowing back and forth with a gentle tide, as if you were standing right on the shore of the sea on a calm summer day. Only, the water didn't follow the rules of gravity or reason; there were no dry spots or deep patches. It was always a gentle lapping wave, two inches deep no matter where you went. Fowler, on the other hand, always kept his boots on. Better wet boots than no boots.

Greenstone knew what Swinton was about just as much as Fowler did, but she raised a proboscis in curiosity all the same.

"Begging your pardon, ma'am, but I mean to leave the Karth," said Swinton.

"Leaving a Karth is forbidden by law," Greenstone said gently. Swinton still winced at the harsh-sounding speech. Nothing a Westward Daughter said sounded gentle to human ears. He'd describe it like a barking dog but with more clicks and whistles, if he had anyone to describe it to. If you lived in the Liminate, then you knew what it sounded like.

Swinton gulped. "I mean to leave all the same."

"Then you will face the penalty of law," said Greenstone. She paused for a long moment, letting Swinton sweat. Finally, she spoke again. "You will surrender your falx. You will be fined ten days pay. You will live in the city. If we see you again, our eyes will not recognize you."

She was speaking clearly, enunciating every word so that Swinton would be sure to understand. His eyes went wide and he bowed in thanks, trembling in relief. "Thank you mistress. Thank you."

He handed over the scythe-like weapon that was standard issue on a Karth and turned to go, but he hesitated when he glanced at Fowler.

"She's just letting me go! You can quit, too! The city they got here, it's nice. It's clean and it's safe. They even got that human neighborhood. Strange folk, but human as you or me," said Swinton. It was a small neighborhood, which meant they'd be running into each other whenever Fowler came by. That was bound to be awkward.

"I think I'm good. Thanks for the offer," said Fowler.

"We don't--" Swinton licked his lips, glancing nervously back at Greenstone. "We don't have to kill people any more."

Fowler gripped Swinton by the shoulder and then pulled him into a hug. "I wish you all the best. I really do."

Swinton was stiff when he pulled away, realization dawning. "You knew they'd let us go. You knew and you didn't tell me."

And Fowler would've waited a lot longer still if he could've. The trouble was their trip across the sea to a continent no Frenarian had ever seen before. It had leveled up Swinton's [Traveler] enough to give him languages, enough to let the poor man’s ears hear all the different tones the Daughters could make. Fowler had three different [Achievements] that helped with languages at this point, so he'd picked it up a lot quicker.

"I don't know anything," said Fowler.

"Why didn't you tell me?" asked Swinton.

Fowler shrugged. "Because you're the only other human in the Karth."

Swinton clenched his fists, and then looked at Greenstone again and thought better of it. "You're a real piece of work, Fowler."

"I don't even know you. Didn't you hear the lady? My eyes don't recognize you anymore," said Fowler.

Swinton clenched his fists again, and again he let them loose. "You're not worth it." Then without another word, he splashed away across the field and towards the Safe and Comfortable City Beneath the Wave.

Of course this whole thing just had to happen in full view of the entire Karth and now all the ladies were inching away to gossip about it with all their friends in the Karths nearby.

“Does he think we will miss him? Who does he think he is?”

“He cannot even sing. The human who stayed is far superior.”

Meanwhile, the Clicks rumbled and stomped nervously at all the excitement. Fowler felt sorry for the big insectoid beasts; they were brave in battle but they got anxious when everyone started talking all at once.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Greenstone said, "He Who Was Born Under The Fourth Planet That Is Associated With Reckless Bravery Who Fights Like A Thousand Cutting Sabers And Who Sings Sweetly In The Darkness With A Gentle And Sublime Melody, please stay." That was her word for Fowler. Westward Daughter language wasn't like human speech. They stacked all their words right up on top of each other and got them all out in one go, so all of that took as much time to say as a single word of Frenarian.

"He Who Was Born Under The Fifth Star That Is Often Associated With The Peaceful Stillness One Feels Under Falling Rain And Who Thinks Deeply And Enjoys Puzzles And Sees The Cutting Of Enemies As A Puzzle Which He Takes Great Delight In Solving, please stay." Puzzle Cutter for short.

The three of them stayed put while the rest of the gals darted off a bit, though of course they didn’t go so far that they wouldn’t be able to hear what happened next.

Greenstone was in no rush to explain why she'd asked him to stay behind, and that was fine by him. You had to let the Westward Daughters work at their own pace. She sat bundled up in her shell, looking out over the Liminate's endless sky.

The Crystal Tower of the Mother Who Watches the World and Grows the Great Green Bounty for Her Children Who She Delights to Feed was as stunning as ever. It occasionally sent a blast of ethereal lightning into one of the Karths assembled at the Shores of Readiness, and that team would disappear in a cloud of prismatic ash, off to their next raid. He’d gotten used to it–you really could get used to anything after enough time.

The sky still surprised him, though. Today, the sky above was an empty white. It didn't always look like that. Sometimes it was a great big mirror, reflecting this strange half-world back down at them. Sometimes it was dark and shadowed, and sometimes terrible and enormous creatures crossed the sky, ignoring them the way Fowler would ignore a flea on a rat.

His weather-sensing Skills sometimes reacted to the sky above. Today, he felt death. He felt like he would when the wind had stopped blowing and it didn't intend to ever blow again and all you could do was sit and wait to starve on the open sea. It didn't mean anything; his Skills weren't built to understand this place.

Still waiting, he rolled his sleeve back and then dipped his hand into the bucket of Click feed, letting the long, lamprey-like creatures stick onto his arm. He was tough enough by now that they couldn't break the skin to drink his blood, so it wasn't anything unpleasant. He pulled the arm out and reached up to the giant beetle-like creature's face. It reached out with its tube-like mouth thing and started sucking the lampreys off his arm. The Click's agitated stomping ceased as it enjoyed its little treat, and he heard a few cooing little yips from his Karthmates, telling him they thought hand-feeding a Click was sort of cute.

Then of course the other Click saw it and started in on him. He dodged the big golden tusks and quickly dunked his other hand in the bucket, then stretched as far as he could the other way to let her have some as well. Level 50 [Pirate] or not, you didn't want to get between two Clicks and supper.

The Clicks finished off the lampreys and settled down some. Greenstone must've felt like enough time had passed, because she said to Puzzle Cutter. "You are strong and quick. You see the dangers that the future holds and guide your actions in wisdom and circumspection. You will be promoted to Karthwatcher. You will be given your own Karth. I bid you enthusiastic congratulations."

All around them, his Karthmates let out a whistling cheer, and then noisily barked in conversation. Westward Daughters weren’t exactly quiet, even respectful whispering sounded a lot like the excited yipping of a small dog.

Fowler whistled and gave his best approving grin. He slapped the back of Puzzle Cutter's shell by way of congratulation. It was a bit like smacking a wet rock, but he knew the Westward Daughters appreciated the gesture. "Whoo! That's great, buddy! You've earned it!"

Had he actually earned it? That was debatable. By Fowler's reckoning, there were three Westward Daughters in the Karth more qualified than Puzzle Cutter, but they were all females. Greenstone would be under a lot of pressure to prove that she didn't discriminate against one of the rare males. That was their way. It didn't make a lot of sense to Fowler, but it didn't need to.

Puzzle Cutter left, and that meant he was alone with Greenstone. There was an awkward moment where he wasn't sure if she still needed him or if she'd only wanted him to witness Puzzly Cutter's promotion.

Then she spoke again. "How would you have handled it? The issue with your fellow human who my eyes no longer recognize."

"Just the same as you, ma'am." he answered.

"People like it when you use their names," said Greenstone.

"My language is clumsy for such things. I can't make the sounds you do," said Fowler.

"Your language contains a beauty and musicality that I had never heard before and find quite delightful."

"Fine then, She Who Was Born Under The First Planet Which Is Often Associated With Leadership and Foresight As Well As Fertility Whose Shell Has Never Cracked Under The Stones And Clubs Of Her Primitive And Unworthy Enemies And Who Reflects The Beauty Of Emerald, Jade, And Malachite.” All of that, and her carapace was clearly blue. “When a new man came to me before a fight with cold feet, I would make him nice and comfortable down below decks with a spot of tea in his hand and a pillow for his head, and then do the fight without him. Then the first chance I got I'd drop him off safe and sound at the next port with a half-share in his pocket. I’d wish him all the best and I'd tell him the same thing as you, that if we ever met again I'd pretend not to know him."

"Very nobly and unexpectedly generous for a murderous pirate such as yourself," observed Greenstone.

"Generous isn't the word. I never wanted a single man on my crew to ever look at me and imagine that I'm standing in between him and survival," said Fowler.

“Practical. Would such practicality extend also to us, your fellow Westward Daughters. Can you trust us when we are Lothkind and Harrowkind and you are human?” asked Greenstone.

Lots of people just thought of Easterlings as all one group, but they were actually made up of many different races collected from across the world, or maybe several worlds. Even though they were both insectoid, Lothkind and Harrowkind were completely different species and couldn’t interbreed. This Karth was all Lothkind, which you could tell from the way they stayed tight up in their shells all the time. They only unwrapped for love and war, and only when they had a particularly impressive opponent, in both cases.

He thought about her question. “I’ll never let you give me a reason not to trust you.”

She let out a low whistle, amusement, or maybe something like laughter. “This is why you also will lead a Karth.”

“Oh.” Fowler didn’t often get caught flat footed, but this time he really was stunned. His whole plan was to save up enough of what they used as money here to trade it for something actually valuable, and then beg to stay behind on a raid somewhere nice. He already knew the penalty for that: a full month of docked pay.

But now... this was an intriguing thought. A Karth all to his own. He never expected them to let a mammal like him lead a Karth, but then again, they’d never given him a reason to believe he couldn’t. One thing he’d learned in his life at sea was that the type of people who were willing to kill for no reason at all were usually remarkably open-minded.

It wasn’t like there were no advantages to staying with the Westward Daughters. The treasure here wasn’t in gold, rum, or women, but if you wanted Class advancement, this was the place to be. Fowler had bought some of the ointment they used for their softshells, and it had made his skin four times as sturdy without losing any of its softness. When combined with [Skin of the Leatherback], he simply couldn’t be cut by normal blades. That wasn't even to mention the movement Skills they gave him access to.

“That’s the bait. So where’s the hook?” asked Fowler.

“My Karth will disband today,” said Greenstone in a simple, clear bark that was meant to be heard by all the Karthmates who were pretending not to be listening. It elicited a series of yips that ranged from surprise to dismay. But Greenstone wasn’t done. “The Clicks and their riders will remain behind. Puzzle Cutter will join his new Karth. The rest of us will join an assault, no mere raid, but a march to war. Our spies have found the location of one of the missing twelve eyes of the Mother Who Watches the World and Grows the Great Green Bounty for Her Children Who She Delights to Feed. We shall recover it.”

Void Treader, the Westward Daughter that Fowler would’ve chosen for the Karth leader promotion, all other things being equal, said, “Does this have anything to do with our war in the land northward from where our Karthmate hails?”

Fowler pointed at her. "That's a great question, sister."

“It does not. That is a simple matter of bargains and debt. This is an urgent matter of the most holy obligation. We will return what was lost. Come now.”