Date posted: 30th January 2025
Aaaand we're back!
Chapter 30: Pirate Principle
"Mos Eisley Spaceport. You'll never find a more wretched hive of scum and villainy."
- Star Wars: A New Hope
You've been to one gaol, you've been to them all.
The sheriff's office was large, comparable to the sheriff offices of the cities. Empty too, with but only ten deputies manning it. The kind you'd see in Mankhlar, Qar Hadast, and the First City. It reminded her more of those curious big ghost cities the Japanese government built to bring life to the rural parts of the country; as if building such facilities would somehow reverse the nation's ever decreasing birth rate.
Much like the ever expanding docks and the new barracks and shops, it was one of the many buildings being constructed on the island. It was clear to all that the island lord had big plans.
Stingray's Rest (the island) was made up of a series of small villages run by a chief or a council of some kind. It was like many subsistence based agricultural ways of life based on the clan or the family, with neighbours be they cousins or no, lending each other a helping hand in times of hardship.
Those who broke the customs tended to be shamed, exiled, or punished - in the most severe cases with death. Usually, death by being stabbed by the barb of said stingray. The actual origin of Stingray's Rest name, remembered only by a few.
Stingray's Rest (the town) was relatively new. Three generations ago, it was but another village on the coast, populated by dwarves, the Zaporaki, and the Nadyah. Lord Fedir's father was a successful Zaporaki merchant who had ties with numerous clans, towns, cities along the Dark Sea and made friends amongst the Nadyah and the merchant clans of the desert surfaces.
As the world before the Castle was mostly ruled by sorcerer-kings, all laws were made by their whims, oftentimes contradictory and nonsensical. When they were all driven out, the victors argued about what would take their place. Until Aincradius Ascendant laid down his own laws, hereby called the Aincradian Laws.
The problem was that most scholars agree that what is now the Aincradian Laws were likely not created by Aincradius himself. Most likely, they were written down by his descendants, and retroactively applied ownership to him. But regardless of these many versions of law, one of the few that seemed to transcend cultures was one very important law: a soul accused of a crime assumed innocent until proven guilty.
Which led them back to the current situation:
An islander, who looked most uncomfortable in the tabard he was given, led her to the suspect.
"This place is too nice for a gaol cell."
" It was originally a store room for documents," said the guard. He unlocked the wooden door. "You may enter."
She looked at the would-be assassin like the scum he was. There were no features that would make him stand out: short, brown hair, a thin physique, and a five-o-clock shadow. It was as if someone hit the randomizer button on the character creation screen thrice and hit play.
Perfect for a spook she supposed.
He did not deign to look at her, content at staring at the floor. His wrists were bound by cuffs, the cuffs themselves being chained to the ground.
She took a seat across from him.
"I ain't talking."
"I haven't said anything yet."
He folded his arms. "Don't care, ain't talking."
"Oh?" She cocked her head. "That's fine by me. I'll make you talk"
With that, she placed her bag on the table and unclasped it, revealing her secret weapon.
The assassin paled at what was revealed.
Earlier that morning, Alicia Rue had been briefed by her boss over breakfast. There was nothing to suggest the man's identity, not his clothes, his blade (which was swiped from the eatery's kitchen); they didn't even have his name.
"We got zilch. He probably came here on his own boat. No logs at the harbor master's office. All the village chiefs said nothing if he came to their docks. Probably telling the truth about that," said the Rat, swallowing her third roti canai of the day.
She had to resist wiping the curry from Argo's whiskered cheeks. For SAO's best info broker, she was still a kid at times. "But we know he's sent here by the Syndicate," said Alicia.
"Rrue dhat," Argo said, swallowing her bread with nary a chew. "Sachi-chan mentioned it. But aside from that, we're lost."
"Hmm," Alicia mused, sipping on her tea. "I suppose you need me to loosen his tongue?"
"That we do," said Argo, letting out a most unladylike burp. "It ain't pretty, but it needs to be done."
"I don't see why you don't do it yourself, Argo. You already have the skills to get the info out of him."
"Alicia, please. This body of mine is made for love, not for war."
"I was referring to just getting him to talk, not putting him in a headlock. Also, you dungeon dive."
The Rat swiped her mouth with her hand. "Anyway, the real reason I ain't doing it is I've got other stuff to do. Kii-bou is already talking to Fedir about heading to the secret pirate base. Asuna and the rest of the girls are gearing up for war. Gotta handle that before we continue our usual business."
"And that's why you need me."
"Because you're the best."
"And …"
Argo sighed. "In the event of my unlikely death, you get to be the Rat and inherint all my worldly posessions."
Alicia raised her cup. "Always useful to get a reminder once in a while."
Returning to the present, Alicia noticed the bead of sweat appearing on his forehead.
"No, anything but that."
"Then tell me what I want." She placed her secret weapon on the table where it made a most noticeable thunk.
"I can't. They'll keelhaul me."
Alicia tsk-tsk'd. "That is not what I want to hear."
She put on a thick glove on her left hand, while her other hand reached for the machete in her bag. She noted that the man was not at all afraid of the blade.
"You see, Mister Assassin, the thing about torture is that is an extremely ineffective tool of getting information."
She lined her secret weapon on the desk. The assassin pushed back from the table, but the chain on his wrists allowed little in movement.
"When a man or woman gets subjected to the worst pain imaginable, they would do anything to get the pain to stop. Forsake their spouse, their children, their parents, even their gods."
With a swordmaster's precision, the machete bit deeply into the secret weapon. He let out a horrified gasp.
"It is a most vile thing, forbidden by most civilised nations. Yet nation-states continue to do just so, more out of a sense of vengeance than out of usefulness. See prisoners of wars, or so called terrorists, put into the blackest of cells never to see the light of day."
Careful not to hurt herself, she began prying open the secret weapon, a sickly smell escaping from it.
"No, no, no … don't … " he begged.
"Sure, some players do it. No longer shackled by the laws of civilisation. Yet, you still hear dread tales of what the worst kind of players do to get their fill of food, booze or gold. That's why us players even hunt each other down for that sort of thing. In the event we escape this Death Game, we turn those people to the proper authorities."
"Oh gods … the stench …"
Alicia smelled nothing, of course. She had robbed her own sense of smell long before she entered the gaol. The room was also fortunately rather small and stuffy.
"This is why I myself don't engage in that sort of thing. A bribe is easier and quicker, more ethical. But you are scum that targets innocent alchemists and that can't be forgiven."
The info broker wrenched the weapon from its casing, not unlike wrenching hearts out of rib cages, and thrusted the foul thing in the assassin's face.
His face was as green as the casing. "I'm going to barf …"
"Tell me what I want to know or I'll shove this down your throat."
"I give up! You win, please, get that thing away from me!"
Fifteen minutes and half a bar of soap later, Alicia found herself at Argo's residence.
The Rat was in the process of packing up her things for travel. "So, whatcha find?"
"Quite a bit," said Alicia, handing her a sheath of papers.
Argo quickly scanned through it. "Excellent work as always. I've already forwarded your money to your bank account."
"Most excellent."
"Though, I gotta ask, how did you know the guy hated durian?"
"Ah, that was simple," said Alicia, her hand reaching to the door. "I interviewed the waiters at the restaurant."
"Waste of fruit if you ask me, I love that stuff. I can have some of it sent to you, if you want!"
Alicia accepted the offer and made a note to sell it later.
This was the fourth ship that had stopped them.
On the first day, they encountered a djong like theirs, manned by leathery skinned fishermen. They asked what they were doing and the captain answered they were looking for mermaids.
The fishermen laughed. One of them pulled up the sleeve of their tunic to reveal a tattoo. The captain understood the meaning and handed a purse of gold. The fishermen gave them directions and they were away.
On the second day, they met their second ship, a pinas. This one was crewed by mailed marines with the defaced tiger emblem of the Royal Nadyah Nav. Their captain was the ugliest elf they'd seen and there was nary a patch of skin that wasn't inked on her. She asked them what they were looking for and the captain said they were looking for mermaids. They were paid with a chest of gold and new directions were given.
On the third day, they met a carrack of dwarven merchants straight out of Qar Hadast. None of them flashed tattoos, they were armed as heavily as marines but that was to be expected, and all of them were polite. The captain and his crew dined on the merchants' deck on lemon-basted cod and spiced wine. The dwarves asked what they were looking for and they said they were looking for mermaids. In exchange, they gave their host an exquisite bottle of aged wine.
The merchant gave them the proper directions and they went that a-ways.
The captain's men were patient. They did not question him on the validity of their quest. They were men and women on a mission to save an innocent at the behest of desperate fellows. And what nobler quest was there? Let the Clearers raid dungeons and slay dragons, they were here to save souls.
After days of travel, one of his men spoke up, "There yonder, I spy a boat."
Brynhildr squinted her eyes. "I don't see how you can see anything in this damnable fog."
"Pump points into PER instead of AGI."
"Never." She was sitting on a bench, hugging her spear. "Maybe you should pump points into AGI instead of PER."
"I will allow you, Big George and the boss here to tank the hits. Meanwhile, Azen and I will shoot at our enemies at a safe distance."
"And what if a kobold charges you from behind with a shiv, what then?"
Loue patted the vicious hatchet on his waist. "That's what «Limb-Cutter» is for."
"Shush," said Iudex Istavan, his hand resting on the pommel of his jikdo. "Loue, wake up Azen and George. Brynhildr, with me."
The two of them stood at the bow of the ship, donned in their full armour. Istavan wore mail under his dark blue coat and a wide brimmed hat. Aside from the sword at his waist, and his height of 6'2, he really wouldn't look much different from any traveler or pilgrim.
His companion was a different story: she wore a white breastplate with a gold trim, the sleeves of her mail shirt just stopped shy from reaching her wrist and the hem right on her knees. Gold wings matched her similar white helmet, like valkyries from Valhalla. Put the two side by side, and most would not even notice Istavan was there.
A sampan approached them, a rugged looking woman in a cloak holding rowing it as a lantern hung at the bow. Unlike the orange glow of flame, it was blue - alchemical or magical in nature.
She didn't even bother to stand up to greet them. Merely raised an eyebrow.
"We're looking for mermaids," he said and threw a pouch at her.
Weighing it in her hand, feeling the precious gems within, she replaced it within her cloak and gestured with her head. They would follow.
"A fortune for one woman," Azen hissed under his breath.
"An insignificant price to save a soul," said Istavan.
The rest of the Blue Sentinels were already armed and fully awake. They were on high alert, surrounded by mists and whatever else lurked in the water.
Istavan spotted a great shadow beneath the djong, eyes glowing as it looked upward. He ignored it.
Finally, after what felt like hours of rowing, but what was only ten minutes, they came to a stop.
They were facing a cliff face now, so tall its shadows almost made him think it was night. The mist had become so thick, he could cut it with his sword. Istavan could hear Azen and Loue asking if their guide had gotten lost too.
Their guide stood up from her bench and reached for the blue light lantern, raising it up as high to the cliff face.
And like a faraway mirage in the desert, the stone wall faded away revealing a gaping maw like that of a great dragon.
George grunted. "Magic," he spat the word like a curse. "No good can come of it."
"Keep your mace on you brother, these pirates are more resourceful than I thought," he whispered back.
They followed the guide and were immediately assaulted by the noise and smell of civilisation.
There must have been dozens of great ships all along the tunnel. Powerful and tall galleys, sleek cutters, fat cogs, and many more. Even the docks themselves were hewn from stone as sailors, stevedores and wharfmen worked them. Embedded in the back of the cave was a great city, buildings made of large stone blocks in a curiously symmetrical layout.
Azen whistled. "Feel like we're back in Qar Hadast here."
"No, that's not it," said Loue. "The architecture's too different. Dwarven architecture is straight, geometric, and symmetrical. Perfect grid patterns. See that road that's swirled like a snake in the middle?" He gestured to said path, up high, leading to a large castle overlooking the rest of the Cove. "That's not dwarven at all, though if I had to guess, dwarves probably helped make this place."
"Didn't realise your architecture degree covered video games," said Brynhilde.
"It's not architecture, it's urban planning, though the two sometimes intersect. Also, it's a masters, thank you very much. Well, I was working on it before the whole … you know." He tapped on his unhelmeted head, referring to the one his real self was wearing.
"Heh, don't we all?" said the spearwoman.
They docked their djong amongst many others. There was already a queue of people waiting for the shahbandar - harbormaster - to check their inventory. A sign said weapons were to be put away, which they duly obliged. The guide only nodded at Istavan as she made her way back out to the sea.
And just like before, the glamor reappeared, a mirage cometh to life. Whatever magic the Seawolves had, it was formidable. He made a mental note to get into it a bit further. George tied their boat to the docks and they disembarked, standing in line.
Istavan also tried to memorise as much as he could of the people in the line. A bit difficult to do, what with being in said line, but the lanterns on the docks were brightly lit and the rippled reflections in the water was enough for him to commit some of them to memory.
There was every race and tribe here in Seawolves Cove: sun-kissed Nadyah, tanned Granumites, turbaned desert nomads, topless Free Tribals, pirates, sellswords and merchants all. No PCs as of yet.
As his Sentinels readied themselves to be inspected, the shahbandar pointed at him. "You, what in the world are you doing?!"
Istavan's hand went for his sword that wasn't there but relaxed as he realised the harbormaster wasn't talking to him.
The harbormaster and his guards marched down the jetty, passing Istavan's men and going to the boat next to his.
The cutter held half a dozen people, most women, save for one man. The official pointed at one of the girls with his pen. "No weapons!"
"Huh? Wha?" asked the accused dumbly, a young girl with purple eyes and long red hair. She looked young, as old as Istavan's own daughter.
She was also, despite her odd coloured eyes and hair, clearly a player with her East Asian features.
"No. Weapons." The official's guards leveled their crossbows at her. "You deaf?"
"Whoa now, good sir! My page here is a little slow!" said a man emerging from the ship's cabin, rubbing the top of her head. "Took a little too many mace hits in the head, yes?"
"Y-yes." She put away the blade. "Sorry."
The harbormaster snorted. "All weapons are to be carried and wrapped, not worn. Once you're pass inspection and pay for the permit, you will be allowed to carry them again." At that, he turned away, his guards trailing him as he inspected another ship.
"Ugh, this is worse than airport security," said George. "At least they did not ask us to take off our shoes."
"Airport security wouldn't let us carry weapons," said Istavan.
"Hmm, point."
The line was long but the pirates were fast and efficient and soon enough they were out of the docks proper and at the gates of the harbor, armed once more.
"You know what to do, comrades," Istavan said. They nodded, his orders drilled and committed. "I will see you when I see you."
George clasped his hand. "God be with ye, brother."
As his men left in separate directions, Istavan felt a tap on his shoulder.
Before him was the man from before, the one with the careless page. Now, in the light of the streetlamp, Istavan got a better look at him.
He could not have described a more stereotypical pirate if he tried. The tanned man stood of average height, with a ruffled white shirt that bared his chest. His necklace was at odds with his gaudy pearl earrings. He wore a blue silk sash in the Zaporaki style, the hilt of a knife tucked firmly in. Loose red pants were tipped with curled shoes more fitting in a royal court than on the deck of a ship. His black hair reached the middle of his back, bangs accentuating his golden eyes.
"Excuse me, friend. I'm new here, you wouldn't know the directions to the satrap's manor, do you?"
Try as he might, Istavan could not tell if he was a PC or NPC. His skin colour matched those of the Nadyah, but his almond shaped eyes were not unlike the Blue Sentinel's own.
He shrugged. "Apologies, I'm new here myself."
"Ah well, I thought it might have been best to try." He extended a hand. "Fumio. Fishmonger."
His hands were soft, no fighter this one. "I am Yi. Spice trader."
"Ah, 'spice trader', I get you," he said, clapping him on the shoulder, laughing. "Oh, don't look at me like that, we're all crooks and criminals here."
"Quite." He stopped himself from glancing at the corner of his eye to see the clock in his HUD - a tell-tale sign that anyone was a player. "Perhaps we can discuss fish and spices another time. I think I'll be here for a while."
"Aye, business and pleasure." He gestured vaguely behind him. "Me and my gals will be bunking down somewhere in the business district. See you later, Yi."
As Fumio turned around to join his 'gals', the two of them were hauling a large chest, Istavan could not help but pay attention to them.
They were dressed very similarly, mail hauberk, axes, and a skull cap with aventail covering their faces, effectively genderless under all that iron. He recognised the girl from before, her purple eyes visible in the holes of her helmet.
Try as he might, but Istavan could not help but there was something off about the fishmonger. In another time, he would have investigated him.
But no, he was on a mission. The girl would have to wait. He had another soul to save.
Istavan turned around and entered the dark city.
It shouldn't have come as a surprise to Asuna that the best info broker in SAO had been trying to figure out how to break into a dangerous pirate hideout from the get-go.
Argo had been working out the numerous pirate fleets since they were finished with all their business way back with the Eternal Watch. She had sent her various employees out into the edges of the world as explorers and adventurers. Some even worked as informants in Clearer guilds to the ignorance of their leaders. The fact that not even Kirito knew the extent of her network spoke much of her skill.
"I've sent one of my best guys there a couple months ago," said Argo as they sailed on the Fish Fear Me, a cutter lent to them by the Lord of Stingray who had not even asked any questions about it.
They had no crew but themselves. The smaller the better, Kirito had said. The merchant manned the boom, becoming a more adept sailor by the day; the pros of not investing in any combat related skills and perks.
"Not anyone can just sail into the Cove, after all. You need to at least serve a few years under the Wolf Lord to dock your ship, or more normally pay a hell of a tax," the Rat explained. "You would not believe the amount of money and work we had to do to just land my guy there."
"So that explains why you're always shabby," said Sinon. She was oiling the aventail of her helmet, what with all the fog that had been gathering. Kirito had said it was best that he at least gave the impression of a scummy smuggler.
At that, the Rat smiled and curtsied, tugging at the edges of her cloak. "Thankfully Aa-chan bought me something pretty. She's such a sweet and loving friend."
Argo shot Asuna the quickest of winks. The slightest raising of Sinon's brow also meant that she caught it. Asuna was glad it was dark enough that she was sure no one caught the pink on her cheeks.
Lisbeth, thankfully, did not. And Yuuki was too far manning the wheel to hear what the Rat was saying; the girl had begged Kirito to let her drive it.
"So what, we're just gonna go in there, pretend to be Kirito's bodyguards, sneak into this pirate lord's office and burn Sachi's contract?" Lisbeth asked, already comfortable
"That's the idea," said a stranger as he emerged from the cabin. "Best one we've got."
It was amazing how well the glamour changed him. The necklace that once belonged to Nezha, who in turn had been given by one PoH, now hung around his considerably thicker neck. He looked like he had spent a whole day tanning and a few months working out.
He was like those swaggering bravos on the streets of Qar Hadast or the many docks of Aincrad but his outfit was a little more tasteful. His pearl earrings matched his pretty golden eyes. His purple silk sash accentuated his slim waist. Even his open shirt showed off well-defined pectorals and the upper half of a six pack.
Asuna found her mouth was watering. Her heart beat fast and her face heated up. Yeah, they all needed to don a disguise but did his have to be so -
" - hellooo? Aincrad to Asuna. You okay there?"
She swatted Lisbeht's hand away. "I'm fine."
"You were drooling, thought you were having a stroke."
"I was not!" she said, wiping the spit from the corner of her mouth. "Remind me why you get to wear the glamour and not us?"
It was a fair question. All of them had changed themselves via hair and eye dyes. Sinon gave herself dark green hair and bright green eyes; Yuuki gave herself red hair and purples, Argo's hair and eyes were black; and Asuna had given herself Sinon's blue eyes and bright blonde hair. Lisbeth was the most conservative, she just changed her eye colours to purple and reverted back to her normal brown.
Kirito shrugged. "I'm the face of the company, gotta keep myself safe after all."
"What happened to your fake beard?" asked Lisbeth.
"Used it for kindling. It was getting old and flaky and scratchy."
"I for one think it's a bad disguise," said Argo. "You look like the old you, minus the tan, the long hair and the golden eyes."
Sinon blinked. "Wait … do you mean Kirito used to look like that?"
"Yeah, that's right. Kendo captain, legion of fangirls, remember?"
"A star athlete with broad shoulders and big pecs? Damn." The slayer smacked her lips. "You really should have accepted his marriage proposal."
The info broker, in a rare instance of being dumbstruck, can only sputter. "I-I - listen here you little sneak -"
"You hurt him so bad he went from hunk to twink. Absolutely fumbled it for the rest of us, you dumb bitch."
Argo rolled up her sleeves. "Why I oughta -"
Kirito immediately put himself between the two of them. "Girls, relax. We have a mission. Sinon, if it pleases you, I'll wear the glamour next time we go shooting."
The slayer snorted. "Fine by me."
"Hold on, what do you mean by 'go shooting'?" asked Asuna.
Before the CEO could answer, Yuuki called out to them. "Ho, captain! A boat cometh!"
"We're almost there. Lisbeth, go to the front will you? And bring the gems. Remember, tell them we're looking for mermaids."
"Got it." At that, the smith left for the bow of the ship.
Kirito dusted himself off and adjusted the helm of his ruffled shirt. "Come on, let's give the Seawolves a great first impression."
Some twenty minutes later, and aside from Yuuki almost getting them all arrested, they were out of the docks and onto the street. As smooth as the waves of the Dark Sea.
Argo had made reservations at one of the local inns, Stoney Home, a humble little mom and pop place that really wouldn't be out of place anywhere else in Aincrad, save for the whole pirate base thing. They each bought their own rooms, more or less occupying the entirety of the third floor, with Sinon rigging the usual traps.
"Ladies, we have one mission and that is to find those papers. It'll be a few hours since we can meet the satrap of this place so I need everyone to do as much recon as you can.
"Argo, you'll be gathering intel, as you do. Meet your contact and get the down-low. I want every little secret you can get out of this hellhole."
"You got it, Kii-bou."
"Sinon, you've got a good eye for faces, I'll need you to take notes at the harbour. If Argo's intel is true, then one of the smugglers for the Dust Syndicate is going to be here. Recon, no contact, your arrows and bolts won't do anything against their stone kin."
"Yeah, but I'm a pretty good shot - okay, fine. No engagement."
"Lisbeth, Yuuki, pirates they may be, but with pirates come treasure. Scour the stores and shops, see if you can find anything valuable. We can always buy them and sell them for later."
"Not a fan of paying pirates for magic baubles but fine, we can do that."
"Absolute Sword will always be on the hunt for magic sword goodness."
"Good. You're all dismissed. Except for you, Asuna. You stay. We have a meeting with the pirate lord in the evening and we need to discuss our plan in more detail. Everyone, be sure to be back by then."
Lisbeth and Yuuki made no note of the swordswoman, while Sinon and Argo gave her the slightest of glances. As the door finally clicked closed did she say something.
"Is there something important you want to tell me you can't tell the ot - ah!"
One moment Asuna was standing in the middle of the room and the next she found herself in the air and onto the bed. It wasn't a particularly large bed, but it proved to be comfy enough for their purpose.
The hearty slap on her ass brought her back to her senses. "Kirito, what -"
Before she could say anything more, he pressed his lips into hers. Any and all surprise melted as they embraced, her body pressing into his as she felt the beat of his heart.
They parted, Asuna gasping for air while the merchant was unperturbed. "I've been a poor lover as of late," he said.
"Kirito, I get it. We were busy being on that island -"
He put his fingers to her lips. "Now, now, don't make excuses for me. I'll make it up to you."
Asuna looked up to see that Kirito was on his knees as she dragged her to the end of the bed. He even had a little towel for his knees. Her face heated up, her heart skipped a beat.
"Hold on, we've got a mission to do! Sachi-chan needs our help, and the others -"
"Sachi's in safe hands with Lord Fedir. I've already made it up to Sinon and Argo before we left. Now, it's your turn …"
At this, he tugged his long hair and with a piece of string he pulled out of thin air, tied it up in a ponytail. She couldn't remember the last time she was this immensely turned on.
"Want me to take off the glamour?" he asked, tugging at his necklace.
"And get rid of those pecs? Absolutely not." Sinon was right, Argo fumbled hard.
He smiled, golden eyes twinkling. "I like you being a blonde, you know. It's a good look. Now just lie back and relax."
Her legs felt a cool rush as he stripped off her pants. Asuna laid back, getting comfy, melting into a puddle. His breath was warm.
The others could take care of it, she thought as, as the worries of the mission left her.
The great thing about being a boss was that Argo could let her underlings take care of it.
It was known to Argo, and only Argo, that she alone employed some two dozen employees. Despite being a literal board member of the Kirito Corporation, Kirito cared little for her network. He never pried, never asked about her business, even if it benefited him. She had to offer her network for him to take it up, and even then, he would always pay back for it. Not even being lovers stopped him from being an upstanding merchant.
It was a delicate thing, recruiting agents to snoop, spy, and sleuth. They all had to be players. They should at least speak Japanese, but the more languages you speak, the higher your pay. Hell, most of them have never even met her in person, with many assuming Alicia was the Rat - something that Alicia herself never confirmed but did not dissuade.
Alicia had even asked how she got her skills which Argo explained she got via working at her school paper.
"Really?" asked the other info broker. "No media training?"
"Nope."
"Not pursuing a journalism degree?"
"Well, I was in the process of that before the whole, you know." She knocked her head.
Alicia Rue narrowed her eyes. "My parents are ambassadors, you know. Started teaching me on international law when I was six. I speak five languages."
"Well, well, look who's little Miss Privilege."
"No, it's not that. I'm just wondering." She sipped her tea before finding the words. "How are you able to have such an info network when you were the outcast at your own school?"
"Well, that's the neat part about being unpopular, Rue Rue." She winked at her. "When you're so below others, no one ever notices you're there."
Thinking back to it, Argo probably sounded a bit pathetic. Well, she thought it was cool at the moment …
She walked the streets of the Cove where it was crowded with the lawless of every nation and kingdom: exiles, oathbreakers, kinslayers, conmen, dark wizards, and most worryingly, cannibals. She did spy some odd looking meat on sale on the way here.
It was still a couple hours before dusk but the darkness of the cave had more or less transformed Seawolves Cove into night. You couldn't turn a corner without bumping into someone selling a light, whether that be candles, lanterns or lamps, magical or mundane (never buy the 'magical' ones from a street vendor, the real stuff costs thousands of Col). Yet despite the apparent oxymoron of a pirate settlement, the street lamps were always burning, run by a small army of lamplighters, primarily made up of urchins with long poles and ladders.
In the darkness of the streets, Argo could easily lose herself in the crowd of people. Working people, sailors and peddlers and labourers. Even pirates needed citizens to run a town, she supposed.
The Dingy Tavern, despite the name, was not dingy at all. If anything, the amount of light damn near blinded her when she pushed the door open.
It was a fancy ass establishment, the kind like that hotel Kii-bou once invited her to for dinner. The kind with a fancy looking bar, fancy wood flooring, fancy drapes, fancy tables, really, it was all too much. The only thing missing was a posh waiter in an expensive uniform appearing out of nowhere asking to serve her.
Suddenly, a posh waiter in an expensive uniform appeared out of nowhere to serve her. "Will the madam have a table for herself or with company?"
Damn, she was always caught off foot with this sorta thing. "Uh, I'm looking for someone?"
He looked her up and down. "Ah yes, you must be her. Your husband did mention you would be … under-dressed. Please follow me."
"Lead on." Wait a minute, husband?!
Regardless, she did follow him to the corner of the 'tavern'. There were only a few people here, mostly old folks, which made the hotel restaurant comparison even more apt. A pretty dwarf was even playing the harp in another corner of the tavern.
"Ah, dahling, you're finally here!" said her 'husband'. He flipped a Col towards the waiter. "Appreciate it, my good man."
"Anytime, sir," the waiter said neutrally as he pocketed the coin.
Her contact even pulled out a chair for her. "Sit, beloved. We've much to discuss. I love what you've done with your hair."
"Of course," said Argo. When the waiter was out of earshot, she stared daggers at him. "What the hell is this husband business, Kancil?!"
"Well, Argo-chan. You did tell me to be more creative with my disguises," he shrugged. "That's what I did."
Sang Kancil was dressed not too dissimilar from Kirito's usual wear except he was severely lacking taste. A jade kaftan, yellow baggy pants, pointed red shoes, enough jewelry to blind someone, and most absurd of them all, a turban so big that Suleiman the Magnificent would have told him to tone it down a bit.
"When I said that, I meant stuff like blending into your environment. Not … this!" And the thing was, Kancil wasn't an unattractive looking guy.
He was a Chinese man in his twenties who came to Tokyo to study game design. He had a trimmed mustache and a big smile and he was quite fluent in Japanese as well. Had he gone into the game industry proper, he would have been the kinda guy who had connections within connections; which made him the perfect recruit for her own network.
"You trying to get mugged or something?" she asked.
"That's the thing, Argo. You gotta look so rich and eccentric people don't even bother robbing you."
"So how many times have you been mugged?"
"Twice, but I had fake purses on hand so don't worry about it." He gestured to the menu on the table. "Do you want anything? Their lobster is to die for."
"No thanks, I'm pretty full. Get me something cold."
A pitcher of ice lemonade appeared as if it was spawned in and the two got to business.
Kancil dismissed his acting. "How much do you know about the Dust Syndicate?"
"As much as you've told me in your reports: they likely got their start in the Kingdom of Nadyah; they've buddy-buddied up with numerous pirate lords in the Dark Sea and have allies amongst the Free Tribes and the Kozaki; that they've got a special relationship with the Seawolves." One of the more common misconceptions is that the Dust Syndicate serve the Seawolves instead of just being a partner-in-crime - a notion that the Syndicate were not quick to disabuse.
He nodded. "All true, because I verified them. But what you may not know is that the Syndicate have their fingers in a lot of mooncakes: artefact smuggling, protection rackets, flesh trading, the works. Apparently they even helped someone break into the royal palace of Oakhome, one of the elven kingdoms."
Argo sipped her lemonade and did not inform him. "Fascinating. Go on."
"Actually, that's all I have. There are some other minor deets, probable headquarters, individuals, and so on. I sent the documents to your inn just a few minutes ago."
"I never told you where my inn was."
"Stoney Home, am I right?" He winked, sipping his drink. "A good husband should know where his wife is at all times."
And a good info broker worth their cash should be able to find these kinda things too. "You know I'm taken, right?"
"I do, actually! Alicia-chan told me when I tried to hit on her too. Oh, don't be like that. You Japanese girls are hard to please. So, how's things with Kirito-kun?"
Well, if there was anything Argo was lax in, it was her relationship with the Kirito Corporation. She didn't expect him to suss that out.
"We're a very happy couple, thank you very much."
"Huh, guess I got one thing wrong."
"What's that?"
"I thought you were one of his many harem members."
She suppressed a cringe. "Oh, don't be silly. He's not that kinda guy."
"Look, I'm just saying, that bodyguard of his, Asuna was it? She's a real cutie. And that slayer chick! I've heard of Sinon myself, she was a hell of a hire when she was running solo. And you're just … you."
Argo narrowed her eyes. "Speak your mind, Kancil."
"Well. You know." He gestured at her with a finger. "You've got too much muscle, girl. Gotta lay off that protein."
Argo had been around Kirito and the girls for so long, she legitimately forgot that most dudes didn't like girls who had bigger biceps than them. "I mean, I'm not that big."
"Your arms are thicker than my legs. You look like one of those dwarf wrestlers I see around the islands."
"But dwarves are cool though." If she'd be any fantasy race, she would 100% be a dwarf.
He pointed at his cheeks. "Well, I haven't seen any bearded dwarven ladies as of yet, but those whiskers do come kinda close."
"I have knuckle dusters on me."
"Okay, I surrender!" He poured himself another glass. "So, anyway, how about you get me a date with Alicia-chan."
"How about you give me some info of the illustrious lord of this pirate town?"
"Okay, fine. Let's order some snacks though, it'll be a while."
Kancil wasn't joking, it did take a fair while.
Though SAO had no class system, it was clear that Rangers were very much a thing in the game.
The «Athletics» skill included sub-skills like «Climbing», «Swimming», and even «Armor» - the skill of wearing it, not the skill of making it. «Survival» was more or less mandatory for anyone going out into the wilderness - which was everyone. Lorewise, Granumites had their yeomen patrolling their lord's land, the Nadyah people specialise in jungle fighting and there were Free Tribe warbands who ran for days just to raid their enemies or hunt dangerous beasts. Then there were numerous missile weapons in the game.
Apparently, SAO was originally designed without any missile weapons in mind. The rest of the game devs made such a fuss about it that Kayaba himself had to put them in the game.
Can you imagine if SAO shipped with no bows, crossbows or javelins? That would have been so lame.
In urban areas, however, «Survival» became less of a vital skill, but traversing the city was not too dissimilar from ranging in the wilds of Aincrad.
Seawolves Cove was built at an angle with the pirate lord's manor at the highest point at the back of the cave. It was the kind of environment that could not have existed naturally in real life. The architecture reminded her of Qar Hadast, but whereas that city of trade was built by brick, the buildings here were hewn from stone.
Sinon looked up at the building she was to scale: easily seven storeys tall. Not as tall as the building down the street at ten floors, but tall enough it would have been an excellent place for a stakeout.
There were no edges or crevices for her to grasp, and she didn't bring her grappling hook. She didn't care to steal one from the docks and buying one would no doubt put her on a watch list. Looks like she needed to use her secret tool.
She found herself knocking on a door. The sign on it said Superintendent.
An ancient man greeted her. "Whaddaya want?"
"I need roof access."
"What for?"
She handed him a pouch.
"Here's the key. Be sure to bring it back."
"Will do."
If there's anything Sinon learned from Kirito, it's that doors are just as likely to be opened by doors as they were with lockpicks.
She set up a folding chair at the edge of the roof - a gift from Kirito actually - and got comfy. The great thing about a stakeout in the city versus one in the wilds is you could be more lax about it. No lying in the dirt, bugs crawling over you, face covered in paint. Just her, a spyglass, and a flash that could be only described as enchanted dwarven thermos - another gift from Kirito.
Thinking about it, she should really get him something. She was kinda bad at the whole gift giving thing. Maybe she could ask the other girls about it …
Not half an hour in that a massive war galley rocked up on the docks. Three large masts flying sails of a skull with a red beard on a field of black; the Darhaka's stoney skull their dread symbol. Sailors easily in the hundreds worked like well-oiled gears of a machine. The entire vessel was painted in a stylish blood red and white colour scheme, clearly not a vessel made for stealth but one for intimidation.
The ram of the ship was like that of a great stone dragon, down to the carved eyes and teeth. The fact that it was not at the bottom of the sea confirmed that this was indeed one of the feared stone pirates whose curse they had turned into their greatest weapon.
And upon the prow on the ship was the name of this great predator: Red Reaver.
Like a colony of ants, each man and woman knew exactly what they were doing: stevedores unloaded cargo, shipwrights checked for damages, as armed sailors step onshore in an orderly line in the style of proper marines. The siege engines of the ship, most of which were mangonels and ballistae, were packed neatly in crates to be stowed away at one of the Cove's many, many warehouses. Many a lord would have envied such a harbor.
Sinon quickly jotted down as much detail as she could get: notable pirates, easily spotted as they were the ones shouting orders; the no doubt chests and crates filled with gold and other valuables; the amount of animals they brought; the kind of gear they were using; her eyes even trailed where the pirates were going - no doubt to enjoy the nightlife. She was just glad that this particular ship wasn't trading cargo of the human variety.
She was in no doubt that she wasn't the only pair of eyes watching the docks. Even with what little sunlight that poured through the tall cave ceiling, she noticed the odd spark in the other buildings. Whether they belonged to the Seawolves proper or were third parties like Sinon, she could have only guessed.
So there she stayed for the next couple of hours, barely processing the passing of time. Turns out, it takes forever to unload a big ship.
It wasn't until she found out that she was running out of ink that she noticed the time. Her eyes glanced to the corner of her eyes. "Damn, I need to get back to Kirito."
It would take half an hour to get back to her inn. Just as she was packing up her stuff did she hear commotion.
Her sharp ears picked up shouting from below, an impressive feat considering the general noisiness of the harbour. There was something familiar about it.
Returning to the ledge, she peered through her spyglass once again to see a familiar face.
Oh shit.
On the deck were bound men, six in total. Their clothes were but rags and it was quite clear they had been mistreated considering the cuts and bruises on them. Even if players couldn't feel pain, seeing your own body in bad shape did little for mental health.
The lead man was a mess, an unkempt beard with equally unkempt hair. But for as much as he looked destitute, he stood tall and proud. Standing barefoot on the deck, manacles binding his wrist, all he did was stare daggers at his captors.
She could hear shouting and yelling, but not what was being said exactly.
Fortunately for her, she learned a little lip reading from Argo.
"Get down to the docks!" yelled the captor, a barrel chested pirate.
The prisoner said something about the pirate's mother and a horse.
At that, the pirate showed him the back of his hand. The man's head whipped back as he spat blood but all he did was return to staring.
"We gonna have a problem?" the pirate asked, unsheathing a dagger from his sash.
At that, the prisoner grabbed him by the wrist and headbutted him in the nose.
The other prisoners went attacking the other pirates.
It was all for naught, for even had the pirates not activated their stoneskin ability, the prisoners were vastly outnumbered. Fists, oars and clubs rained down on them and all Sinon could do was watch, helpless and furious.
The pirate who had his nose broken reseted his nose. He walked up to the lead prisoner and raised a brick sized fist, pulled back for a wallop.
It was only then another man stepped behind him and grabbed him by his wrist. The pirate stopped dead in his tracks.
Even from afar, Sinon could see fear in his eyes.
"Captain?" said the pirate.
The captain released his grasp and patted him on the shoulder. He said something to the pirate but his beard made it hard to read his lips. The pirate captor nodded and walked down the plank as the others tightened the shackles on the prisoners.
He was dressed in the loose tunic and pants of the Nadyah people, an embroidered sarong about his waist which did little to cover his powerful frame, easily a head taller than the prisoner. His hair and beard was as red as the colours of his clothes and ship. He looked the prisoner up and down with something akin to respect.
"I am Redbeard of the Red Dread. I was there when we burned Perisno centuries ago. It took the might of all the navies of the civilized world to stop the Darhaka Fleet. But I've been a bad host and did not catch your name when we captured you. What do I call you and your little warband?"
The player could only smile through bloody teeth. "The name's Klein of the FuurinKazan. Me and my boys will cut your head off and use it as a chamber pot."
Redbeard laughed like thunder but his men did not laugh with him, Klein's mates smiled grimly.
"I like you, Klein of the FuurinKazan. We will see how much of your grit is true when we send you to the pirate lord as gifts."
At that, the captain returned to the cabin as the FuurinKazan were forced off the ship at spear point.
"Ah, shit." There was no way in hell Sinon could save them and return to Kirito in time.
See, that's the thing with being solo. You could always just leave. Other people's problems weren't hers. And as much as Sinon barely knew the man, Kirito would not forgive her if they marched to their death and she did nothing about it.
Sinon made her decision as she ran down the stairs. Why, she even made sure to return the key to the superintendent.
Kirito looked at his HUD clock for the umpteenth time that night. "They're late."
"Probably hard at work, you know how they are," said Lisbeth, her voice slightly muffled through her padded aventail.
"Yeah, I guess you're right." He looked to his 'bodyguards'. Asuna and Lisbeth looked decent enough, and aside from Yuuki who looked ever slightly out of place, being the shortest of the three, they looked sufficiently scary. Perhaps not as heavily armed as the rest of the crowd of merchants, exiled lords, smugglers and pirates, but it was best not to attract too much attention.
"Yuuki-chan, if someone gives you shit for being short, pretend you're a dwarf."
"Aye, that's why I be carrying this longaxe, boss-man," said Yuuki in a disconcertingly accurate Scottish accent.
"Dwarves aren't Scottish, at least not in SAO," said Lisbeth. "Also, I think pretending to be another demi-human is problematic."
"But the boss-man has brown face on so I don't see why not," she replied.
"I am not wearing brown face. I literally just have a tan. I looked like this before!" the merchant defended himself.
Yuuki's laugh would have made any highlandman proud. "Whatever you say, Mister Trudeau."
"How the hell do you know who Justin Trudeau is? You're twelve years old and he hasn't been in office for the last ten years."
"This lass be fourteen winters, actually," she corrected.
Kirito turned to Asuna. "Discipline your squire."
"You think I haven't tried?"
Before Kirito could get himself anymore canceled, the gates of the manor swung open. The crowd of the rich and influential began pouring in, their servants carrying gifts for the pirate lord.
"Alright, come on. We have to go," said Asuna, holding one end of the chest they had brought. "This thing's cold and the sooner we can give this away, the better."
Lisbeth grabbed the other. Kirito adjusted his sash and fiddled with hilt of his knife. He hoped he would have no need for it.
Thus the Kirito Corporation entered the wolf's den.
So did y'all see that Astartes II teaser?
I'd post this sooner but I recently released an Elder Scrolls oneshot for the Fourth Annual Morrowind Writing Competion (which I won, btw). If anyone here reads Elder Scrolls, I'd kindly ask you to check it out! Join the Discord and all that.
I wanna say I can do this whole double chapter posting thing in February but unfortunately I may be going under the knife. Well wishes, prayers, and reviews, are appreciated.
Until then!