14xx/09/29 Johannes Calendar
159 days since arrival…
Fuck me sideways.
The Captain summoned us all to a meeting within the conference room within our hotel. Aside from the crew I started with, the white-haired witch and the Captain's daughter was there as well, their expressions grim as they studied the reports that littered the mahogany wood table. The Captain informed us that there is a pack of extremely powerful succubuses prowling at the general area of our route. Those harlots were bold enough to not only attack carriages, but was rumoured to even destroyed a small village nearby.
I at first received the news with ridicule. How can a pack of succubi be so threatening? Against small group, they could be dangerous, but against a crack team of veteran warriors whom faced off such harlots before? Should be a piece of cake. Yet, nobody was laughing.
The Captain in my short time with him, has proven to be a brave bastard. He faced off the horrors of Tartarus with steely determination, then the atrocities of Pornof merely startled him. Hell, he was completely unfazed by the massive storm at sea, jumping on deck and laughing at Mother Nature with a bottle of rum in hand. He is a good if not great officer, that's for damn sure.
And this motherfucker looks like he just signed his own death warrants.
Once again, I will be delayed in my travels. I wanted to say to hell with delays, but some part of me held me back. If what I've heard of Luka and his gangs, he's a walking disaster magnet. Chances are, the succubi are chasing after him instead of us. It would be absolutely redundant to die as collateral so close to my prize.
In the end, I struck down my previous intention and opened my mind for new suggestions.
The Captain informed us that his reliable colleague outside his group has tracked the movement of the dangerous group of succubi. They have moved away from the route and into Grangold, last they checked. But winged beasts tend to move fast, so he wanted to seize this window of opportunity before it was shut. We have around 3 days to prepare for departure, any more and the risk of the threats turning around and catching up would increase by the hours.
Thus so, he decided to load up our little caravan with the most important items and Makinas first. The faster the most valuable were secured behind San Ilia's walls, the better. He asked me to help him choose which Makinas he can bring with him, and which one to abandon until he can return for second round.
Unfortunately, we can't carry much, so I have to choose carefully of what to carry. Electronics is top priority for research, especially knowing that even I can't build a PC from scratch, so if they fell on the wrong hand, they're gone for real. Second would be magical stuff, as they were far more interested in foreign magic than actual mechanical engineering. Third would be anything mechanical, like guns, engines and clocks. Anything else is just dead weight.
After an agonizing half an hour, I manage to choose which one to carry; a full set of gaming PC with streaming accessories, a smartphone and powerbank, a small diesel engine, a pack of computer cables and chargers, all the items we personally found in Tartarus Rifts, an old rotary telephone, an M3A1 Grease Gun with a can of ammo, a Vickers Machinegun and its can of ammo, and a pack of three unused flashbangs. It's not terribly heavy by their standard, but adding more on top of our beast of burden is to court disaster. The rest was for provisions for the road and compiled reports and papers the Captain deemed necessary to bring.
And if it wasn't enough, the Captain also hired a few mercs along the way. And these aren't your average pretty boy/gal troupe either; all six of them was in full plate armour decorated with gold trims and aquatic motifs and brandishing a mixture of swords, maces and Sharps rifle. I'm serious, two of them were using a rolling-block rifle with metallic cartridges. They concealed their faces with tough crusader helmets, but any veteran worth their salts can feel the blood they have spilled in their overall demeanour. Battle Brothers is a cheesy name for a company, but I'll be damned if their soldiers weren't of high quality.
Nevertheless, there is not much thing for me to do other than relax, walk around the port more and maybe train Sophie better. Combined with the mercs, we have around 12 fighters guarding our secret caravan. I like my odds here. Hell, even the crossbows they brought with them looks eerily modern, as if made from polymer instead of steel or wood.
If everything goes right for once, I hope we will reach San Ilia safely. If not, I hope you find me surrounded by corpses.