[Episode] Enter The Badger! Conrad VS The Broken Blade Pirates!

Quest Request:

Bell Island, in the South Blue, is a mostly unremarkable island. It was too big to be a desert island to bury treasure on or to be a sole pirate crew's hideout, yet too small and generic in exports to be considered a hub of activity and interest. The one thing it had going for it - besides being out of the way from any major cities and thus any major world events - was its unique shape. If one were to have mapped it or somehow had an aerial view of the island, the reason for its name would become incredibly obvious.

The main portion of the giant bell silhouette houses towns and villages of various diversity, but for the most part, these towns are all relatively respectable.

Not so for the sole town in the southernmost part of the island, the 'clapper' of the bell as it were. Naru Town was never the most prosperous place to live at its peak, but its turbulent history with pirates had caused it to degrade even further. Somehow, its biggest source of income was also its biggest enemy. Various pirate crews alternated between pillaging, plundering, and ravaging the town and being grand patrons of it. Many buildings were dilapidated, showing signs of damage from fire or cannonfire, or even so destroyed that it is impossible to tell what did them in. Others were heavily yet haphazardly fortified, with barricaded windows and stone fences erected around them. However, the few pubs and restaurants were thriving. The pirates that didn't demand food and booze for free were often generous. The combination of love and fear of pirates made it a haven for outlaws.

The smell of smoke and alcohol filled the air on most days, and in the cold chill of winter, there was a stronger smell of fire than usual. The open streets were filled with stands with hungry, bundled-up vendors peddling anything from fruits and fish to fraudulently-labeled junk, and the alleys had... other, 'extra-legal' transactions taking place. There were always shouts that could be heard, whether the rowdy ruckus of a pirate party, the furious debating of hagglers and merchants, or the screams of a mugging victim. Walls had scribbles and scratches of various pirate insignia etched into them. [dass]All in all, it was a less-than-savory little town[cmt]World-building lore dumps for a story's intro can work, but the lore has to be engaging enough or unique enough to hook the reader. Your description of Bell Island and Naru Town, while mechanically sound, just didn't stand out to me enough for it to warrant being introduced first thing in your story.

A good hook can make or break a story. Strong prose and imagery can also build on top of this to paint a vivid picture.

Here is an example of a thread that has a world-building lore dump in its introduction. Also note that in this example, the lore dump has a meta purpose as well - to provide context for other RPers in the thread. In solo quests, that's not as necessary.[/cmt][/dass].

Conrad Sagal knew this was the place to start if he wanted to find a pirate crew to join, but it was also incredibly dangerous. The 'law' in the town had all but given up dealing day after day with swarms of pirates and also knew the town could not survive without them. There were also some rumors of bribery, but never anything proven. Those meant to uphold the law in Naru Town were too weary and complacent to bother Conrad, but they would also look the other way if anything happened to him. He had to be careful.

With that in mind, he slammed open the door to the Dancing Whale, one of the more upscale restaurant-and-pubs in Naru Town. There were no holes in the roof, the floor was swept at least once a week, and they even washed the glasses regularly. Perhaps there were some decent pirates in here. At the very least, it would provide some shelter from the chill in the air.

When the door crashed open, the sounds of carousing and untuned piano playing... continued. This was not a rare occurrence. However, some of the taller customers did pause, as to them, the door opened all by itself. It was quite a mystery until they looked a bit lower.

Conrad's large grin suddenly flashed into a grimace and instantly into a growling, clenched-tooth snarl when a couple of the pirates laughed at seeing him. A vein pulsed in his head before he returned to his big, dumb smile.

"Anybody recruiting? I'm looking to join up with a crew!" Conrad's loud voice pierced the [ass=I see what you did there.]din of the dingy diner[/ass]. Most ignored him or looked away, though a couple of rough customers did take interest.
"Recruitin' fer whaat," asked a rotund man with a red and white striped shirt and a near-empty mug of booze, the smell on his breath and his slurred words suggesting this wasn't his first. "You gonna be the new bartender? Thish one won't serve me any more!"

"No, to be a pirate!"

Conrad's dream of being a pirate was so close that he could taste it, even over the taste of the stale, smoky, boozy air in the pub. Ever since he was little, he looked up to pirates, even after quite a few disappointments. And now he would be one.

"Good, 'cause yer too short to be a bardenter anywaysh," the drunk man sloshed, "you wouldn't even reach the ba-"

The fat man grunted and dropped his mug after a swift blow to his gut, one of Conrad's 'signature moves.' The mug hit the floor first, while the drunk staggered and wheezed, before finally falling with a loud thud.

"Don't mock me and don't call me short," Conrad growled, 'towering' over his fallen foe. The rage in his grey eyes was evident, though he quickly calmed down and even gave a small smile. "And never, EVER get that drunk around pirates you don't know."

Conrad's victim uttered a tiny apology, which seemed to be enough to remove the rest of his anger. Conrad offered his hand to help him up.

Thanksh, but... I'll shtay down here a bit. [ass=I like this line a lot.]The floor's not movin' like everythin' else[/ass]."

Another pirate eyed Conrad up and down. His dirty, tattered rags he called clothes were of an indeterminate color, with so many interesting stains of varying hues mottling them like unintentional abstract art. Despite this, his black mustache and goatee were immaculately groomed. His hair, however, was impossible to tell, as it seemed to be covered by [dass]a stereotypical pirate hat[cmt]They're called tricornes, thanks very much. There're also bicornes.[/cmt][/dass] emblazoned with a skull and crossed broken swords. "You've got guts, kid," he chuckled. "I am looking for tough sailors for my crew, but I'm not sure a punk like you is a good fit."

"Who are you calling a punk," Conrad - the young man with a leather jacket with bone design decorations, hand and arm tattoos, large earrings, and aggressive stance - interjected. "Do I look like a punk to you?"

"Hey, relax," the pirate captain said smoothly "I'm just saying you seem like you might have trouble following orders. I need a crew who I can rely on to immediately respond to commands in any situation. A free spirit like you might have trouble with that."

The sudden change in tone and personality threw Conrad for a loop. He tilted his head subtly and squinted slightly. "What happened to 'punk' just now?"

"Kwakwakwa," he laughed. "Just testing your reactions. Someone with your fiery spirit might be useful, but blowing up at your boss and knocking down one of your crewmates isn't a good first impression."


"Of course I blew up at you! You called me a punk! You think I would take-" The rest of the Captain's words took a moment to sink in. "Wait... boss? Crewmate? You mean... I got the job?"

"It's yours, my friend, if you want it." He gave a sly smile, his once-rough words now smooth as silk and sweet as sugar. "I would be honored to have-"

The bartender loudly cleared his throat. Once nearly invisible like bartenders are until you need them (and often more invisible when you do), he made his presence very apparent to the two of them. The clean-shaven, [dass]friendly-smiled man's eyes did not match his smile and seemed more like they were looking at the grim reaper[cmt]This wording feels clunky and awkward. Also, "eyes that seem to be looking at the grim reaper" invoke an image of a terrified man, which doesn't seem to be what you were going for here.[/cmt][/dass]. His dignified wrinkleless white shirt, black vest, and black bowtie did not match his less-than-calm, cool, and collected demeanor. "Care for a refill, sir," he asked the captain.

"Ah, I would love one, such great service here," was the reply, and the captain's cup was quickly replenished. He daintily sipped the drink at first, trying to show suave elegance, then started guzzling it as if he had been a week without water.

The bartender used that opportunity to turn towards Conrad. "I have a confidential message for you from a friend," he said nervously.

"A... friend? Don't have many of those." Conrad leaned in closer anyway, curiosity getting the better of him. "What's the message?"

The bartender whispered. "Actually, I just wanted to make sure you know what you are getting into. That's Captain Gorgo of the Broken Blade Pirates."

"So?" Conrad asked, loudly. He was hastily hushed. "So?" He repeated, whispering this time.

"I know you probably don't care about how brutal and merciless he is to his victims," the barkeep explained, "but he's known for the same thing towards his own crew. He sweet-talks naive new wannabe pirates to join and uses them as cannon fodder."

Conrad went blank, turning pale and motionless. He almost threw in his lot with this man and his crew! As he stared into oblivion, numb from his hasty mistake, his emotions started bubbling back in. The eerie stillness was replaced with light shaking, and he went from pale to flushed. He glared at Captain Gorgo, his hands balling up into fists. [dass]How dare he? How freaking dare he[cmt]I think Conrad changing his mind so quickly about something based on pure hearsay makes him less likeable.

If you want to justify an extreme reaction and instill a feeling of betrayal, you need to give the new partnership some time to breathe and then make the betrayal more personal.

If Conrad saw Gorgo's cruelty with his own eyes, or if the hearsay was coming from someone he trusts (as opposed to a bartender he just met), his rage would be a lot more meaningful.

I realize that you may be trying to convey how short-tempered Conrad is, but you gotta pick your moments—especially since you gave him the sense to not immediately throw a punch at Gorgo afterwards.[/cmt][/dass]!?

"Something wrong, my new friend? I would hate to think you were uncomfortable in any way with my presence." Captain Gorgo gave a disarming smile, which seemed to work. In reality, Conrad was still fuming, but realized that it would be obvious that the barkeep tipped him off if he were to fight. He refused to drag someone into his fight.

"...yeah, something is wrong. Very wrong. I just got some disturbing personal news I need to take care of. I... have to go."

"So soon? I hope you consider my offer!" The captain gave a sweet, cheerful smile as if nothing had happened.

"Don't worry... we'll meet again. I promise." Oh yes, Conrad thought, outwardly giving an innocent sad smile but internally smirking devilishly. We definitely will. Broken Blade Pirates, huh? I'll remember that symbol. If I'm right, I'll see you real soon...

The docks were Conrad's next point of business. Well, after a detour to grab a couple of snacks. Originally, he was just going to look for a crew to join there, but now he had a new goal. The bartender was wrong: he did care about how brutal and merciless Captain Gorgo was. That was not his type of pirate.

His type of pirate was fun, adventurous, and friendly - truly friendly, not that fake act Gorgo was putting on. [dass]His kind of pirate made his crew his family, not treated them like pawns and human shields. Breaking the law was one thing, but ruthlessness and heartlessness were completely wrong for him[cmt]You're not writing a bio anymore. This kind of character development should happen through a scene or some well-written dialogue. Dumping Conrad's personality in narration like this is not the way.

And again, this does not feel powerful at all because Conrad is strictly going by something the bartender said rather than something he observed. Conrad's indignation feels contrived and unearned.[/cmt][/dass]. He would hate working for a captain like Gorgo, and he would hate himself if he became one like him.

However, picking a fight with every jerk who pulled into port - while a fun thought - would be a waste of time right now. Just fighting every single pirate in the town was a bad idea.

Teaching a quick lesson to a pirate who treated his own crew like garbage was another story, especially one that planned to do the same to him. He had time to do something about that if he knew what he was doing. Besides, his funds were running a bit low.

The port of Naru Town was very important and was thus the cleanest, most well-built place in the whole town. The fact that it gets damaged so often by pirates also means that it is continuously and quickly repaired, meaning it is almost always brand-new. The boardwalk and docks are made of the sturdiest wood and steel. In the distance is an armored lighthouse surrounded by a wall a little over half as tall as it. Despite this, there was very little security - often none - as the pirates that made up most of the port's users really preferred their privacy.

There were a few different pirate ships docked in the port. Finding the right one would [ass=Awkward simile.]like be finding a piece of straw in a tiny haystack[/ass]. Conrad wanted to be out of the cold as soon as possible, and could not spend too much time searching or risk being caught acting suspiciously, so he had to do this as quickly as possible. Luckily, he had some idea what he was looking for. A few of them looked flawless. Undamaged, polished ships with fine detail were out of the running. These must belong to showboaters, new 'pirates' that obviously haven't gotten into a single battle. The really damaged ones were possible candidates, but he would search them later if he had to. He really hoped that there was something worth stealing and wrecking on the Broken Blade Pirates' ship, so he would assume that their ship would be one in relatively decent condition.

Eventually, he spotted it. The sails were down, so he couldn't see if the sail had a Jolly Roger, but the flag on the ship showed he was definitely in the right place. A grinning skull, with shattered swords instead of the traditional crossbones, marked Conrad's target. It was a small sloop made with dark wood, well-worn and moderately damaged yet repaired with the quality of at least a journeyman shipwright. The front mast had been reinforced, and some planks were not quite the same shade as the rest of the ship. It had the figurehead of an angry stallion, its glaring eyes and flowing mane painted red, and the rest painted black as a moonless night.

Conrad wandered the docks with a sweet bun in hand, 'admiring' the various ships before sitting down with his feet hanging off of the peer. He pretended to watch the water while keeping an ear out for any people coming or going. After a while, a few pirates disembarked from the Broken Blades ship. Good, he thought. They aren't leaving today, or at least yet. I have time.

Once no more men were leaving the ship, he casually strolled up to it and leaped aboard. He approached the nearest door, and slowly cracked it open. He peered through the crack but spotted nothing of note. The Bad News: the ship's treasure was not behind the first door he checked. The Good News: the coast was clear. There was nobody standing guard behind that door. He swung the door open the rest of the way and walked into the belly of the beast. It was a spacious belly, an open hallway with lots more doors inside. He peeked through each one. Armory... supply storage... galley (mental note: raid it before leaving)... crew quarters...

Wait.

There were dozens of pirates sleeping in there! Conrad thought they all left, but it looks like some were denied shore leave! He slowly closed the door and backed away.

"Hey, what was that?"

Crud.

Conrad walked stealthily deeper in, hoping the startled crew would think it was just their imaginations, but it was no use. The door to the crew quarters opened and a bunch of tired-looking pirates poured out. Many looked ill or malnourished, but all of them looked ready to fight and some of them were downright terrifying.  A couple of them were over six feet tall, and a few of them, while gaunt, were wiry and tough-looking. This would not end without some struggle.

Two of the pirates rushed Conrad down, who timed a leg sweep to knock them both down. Upon dropping them, he then kneeled to punch them both in the face. A third crewmate attempted to tackle him, but he thrust his head and body forward then flung back, launching him over his shoulders. Another one attempted to attack but was swiftly knocked in the chin with a rising uppercut. Although it barely clipped the pirate, it rattled him enough for him to wobble and collapse. Two more were simultaneously punched in the gut, bringing them down.
Another one falls. And another. And another. But eventually, Conrad was overwhelmed. Time to use his trump card. "I've had [dass]enough of this[cmt]It seems like Conrad is saying this based on the prose, but the dialogue colour makes it seem like someone else is?[/cmt][/dass]," he shouted. "Out of my way!" He focused, and... was struck from behind with enough force to make the world go black.

[dass]For most people, including Conrad, waking up in the brig tied up in ropes was not a fun experience[cmt]This is a good demonstration of when weak prose can make a mundane observation seem even more so. It's obvious to the reader that it's not a fun experience to wake up tied inside a brig. What may not be obvious is that it's not fun for Conrad also. The punchline is that "Conrad is no different than others in this regard."

To make this more effective, you could have worded it like so instead:

For most people, waking up in the brig tied up in ropes was not a fun experience.

Conrad was no different.

Writing it this way adds emphasis to the fact that Conrad can relate to most people when it comes to this manner of waking. Instead, the way you wrote it makes Conrad's preference a sidenote to the fact that most people don't like being tied up in a brig.

I'm singling this one out not because it's the only occurrence of weak prose, but because it was a good case study of a sentence that could have been notably improved with a small tweak. There are many other cases in your thread where the impact of a scene falls short due to the prose.
[/cmt][/dass]. The pounding headache and light dizziness also did not help. What did help was the fact that there seemed to be no guards, at least inside the brig.

Conrad beamed with joy and satisfaction. "Perfect," he said aloud to nobody in particular. He squirmed and struggled in his bindings. "They really... hnngh.. underestimated me... grrr... and as soon as I get out of these ropes, they... urgh... they won't know I'm robbing them blind-"

With a huff and a laugh, he stopped struggling. "Wow these are tight," he exclaimed. "I can't get any slack in it! At least... not at this size."

At the end of that sentence, he suddenly shrank from 4'11" down to a little over two feet. At the same time, his shape and mass also shifted. Where there once was a human there now was an animal. He had become a black-furred, stocky, weasel-like creature with a white stripe down his head and back. He had transformed from a human into a honey badger, and the ropes didn't know what to do with that and just gave up, falling off of him due to his sudden shrinkage. The bars of the brig were also not made for such a critter, as he was able to squeeze through before turning back into a human.

Conrad tried the handle to the exit door, and lo and behold, it was unlocked. He opened the door, only to be greeted by a large, muscular man with an iron-studded wooden club in his left hand. The man had almost more scars than skin, and a shaved head with black stubble on top. He wore ripped grey pants and large black boots, but his torso was covered only by his scars.

"Out of my way," Conrad shouted at the man blocking his path. "I've got a major headache and don't want to have to deal with you!"

"Ahhh... you are finally awake." The big man very slowly grinned, gently striking his right palm with his club. "Youu... probably have a concussion from this."

"You did this to me?" The throbbing in Conrad's head was now doing double time, as a cross vein on his forehead bulged from anger. He got into a wider combat stance, glaring daggers at his assailant. "You coward, attacking from behind! Who do you think you are?"

"I think... I'm Vice-Captainnn... 'Thunder' Travers of the... Broken Blaaade Pirates. Thank you..."


"Thank you? For what?" Although Conrad was hit in the head, he was sure he was not concussed enough for this to have made sense and gone over his head. He knew this was genuinely confusing.

"For weeding out the weaklings in our crreww... the ones who lost... are gone now. The rest... out looking forrr... new recruuits."

The color drained from Conrad's face as he shuddered. "Gone... you mean..."

"Yesss...."

Conrad rushed at Travers with a righteous fury. "You son of a - "

He was interrupted by simultaneous punches from and against Travers. They both jumped back slightly from each other to get some room.

Conrad shrugged off the hit he took and gritted his teeth, staring up at 'Thunder'. "Tch. Bit tougher than I thought you were." He bent his knee and pulls his right arm back as his large opponent now charged him. "Take this. GUTS..."

As Travers became in range to attack, he raised his club, ready to bring it down on Conrad's head. However, at that moment, the short pirate rapidly rose to his full - yet unimpressive - height, swinging his fist in a rising hook straight into Travers' stomach.

"UPPER!"

Travers winced from the blow but refused to fall. Conrad followed up with a swift twisting side kick to... a very sensitive area that not only really hurt as evidenced by every muscle in Travers' body tensing in recoil, but also made him furious. He instantly reacted by throwing a hook punch to the side of Conrad's head, then a shoving kick to his reeling opponent.

"Gah!"

Conrad landed hard onto the floor, [ass=I like this tactile imagery.]learning why it was called hardwood[/ass]. As he attempted to stand up, he immediately had another attack to deal with. Travers took the opportunity he was down to wind up a downward strike with his club. Conrad barely dodged, getting grazed by the studs in the club. "I'm not done yet," he yelled. Despite being off-balance, he rained a flurry of blows onto the Vice-Captain in an attempt to regain momentum.

Blows were traded back and forth, glancing, grazing, or practically absorbed as they used weaker attacks to recenter themselves before their bigger attacks. Eventually, however, both had to get serious. 'Thunder' Travers leaped back to get a running charge once more, but something was happening with [ass=You forgot your character's name for a moment.]Connor[/ass] that gave him a pause.

Conrad's headband, earrings, and shoes vanishing was the least distracting thing going on with him. His body stretched and warped, finally making him an even five foot tall and bulking him up quite a bit. Black hair sprouted from his entire body, covering him in coarse fur, followed by a white stripe down the middle of his head and back of his neck. His face elongated and his head flattened. His hands and feet grew dangerous claws, and as he growled, vicious, uneven teeth were revealed.

"What.... arrre youuu...." Travers asked hesitantly. His grip on his club tightened.

"I'm a badger man! And you are done!"

In a sudden flurry of fangs and claws, the 'badger man' was all over Travers, trying to tear him apart. Travers blocked many of the blows with his club, but slashes and bites did get through his guard. If he recovered, he would soon have new scars after this battle. In a combination of fury and fear, he retaliated with many wild swings. Despite them connecting and clearly doing damage, the wild animal-man appeared to ignore them. As soon as Travers slowed down and Conrad saw an opening, the badger rammed into him, sending him sprawling. He launched himself into the air with his powerful legs and slammed down into him clawed-feet-first.

The battle was over. Conrad shifted back to his normal human self, smirking. "Told you. Now stay down and... uh... um... uh-oh. I think I overdid it." He stepped off of Travers, kneeled, and took his pulse. "Oh crud oh crud oh crud! No... you're still alive, that's good. Still perfect record of no murder! Just uh... hang in there. I'll get you some attention."

Conrad closed his eyes and thought back to his search of the ship. The first stop was the supply room. He remembered which door that was and ran through the hall to reach it. He entered and looked around for what he needed. "Okay... let's see... matches? Check." He pocketed a box of matches. "Bag? Um... ah, this should do nicely!" He took an empty sack and slung it over his shoulder. "Oh, a medical kit! Perfect!" He grabbed the kit on the way out and dropped it at Travers' side. "When someone finds you, this will save time. Now to the treasure room. Wait... I didn't find that yet. Onto the kitchen!"

Conrad just casually strolled into the galley and rifled through ingredients and food. There wasn't much there he was interested in, however. "Salt pork... hard tack... where's all the good stuff? Aha!" A small stash of hard candies was the only sweets he could find, but they'd do nicely. He popped one in his mouth and continued on.

There were quite a few rooms he hadn't checked, but searching them all would take forever. Conrad needed to hurry! The crew could be back any minute... or not, which would be just as bad due to Travers' condition. "Curse my kindness," he muttered as he thought about that. "He tried to kill me... why can't I just let him... no, I'm better than that."

There was a door at the end of the hall with a large chain lock. Was that lock solid gold? Probably not, but it sure looked like it. This was definitely an important room. If the treasure hold was anywhere, it was here. Or in a completely different part of the ship, which - on his timetable - would mean he'd have to leave without having found it.

He once again morphed into his human-badger hybrid form and slashed at the lock with his claws. It was not enough to break it. He then tried pulling it apart, slashing it again, biting it... nothing seemed to work. He turned around in defeat... and heard the clank of metal hitting wood. It had fallen off when he wasn't looking. He kicked the door open and beheld the splendor of glittering gold and gleaming gems.

It wasn't much gold, and there were few gems, but the treasure was more than he had. Coins, trinkets, and jewels were piled up in a heap at the back of the hold. "Jackpot!" He grinned madly, and flew over to the pile, shoveling it into his sack using his claws. Upon scratching a couple of items, and chipping a brooch, he decided it would be better to use his human form to fill his bag. After filling up, he left and retraced his steps to the armory.

The armory was probably the most well-stocked room of the ship he had seen. Rows and rows of racks of swords and knives lined the walls. There were barrels of gunpowder, crates of cannonballs,  and coils of fuse. This would be perfect for the kind of signal he wanted to make. "If only they kept a cannon in there so I wouldn't have to haul up a bunch of heavy cannonballs and - wait... they wouldn't... would they?" The thing under the tarp was suspiciously cannon-shaped. He pulled off the tarp, and...

"They did!" He pumped his fist in excitement. "Is this a spare cannon or something? Why would - nevermind, don't gift a horse in the mouth or whatever!"

Conrad quickly got to work. He opened a barrel of gunpowder and scooped up a load of it in his empty coin pouch. He then poured it into the cannon, then got a couple more scoops for good measure. He then shoved the tarp into the cannon. He grabbed a cannonball out of the crate and slowly walked over to the cannon to load it. Afterwards, he turned into his hybrid form just long enough to easily adjust the cannon and to slice a very long measure of fuse. One end went in the cannon, and the other he trailed out the door and down the hall a bit.

"This ought to make some noise," he said with a chuckle. With a bag of treasure over his shoulder and a box of matches in his hand, he looked awfully pleased with himself. "Maybe even hit through the ship and take down a mast if I'm super lucky!" He took a match out of the box, struck it, and lit the fuse. With no time to watch it burn, he ran out and tried to get a safe distance away from the ship. At what he felt was a good distance back from it on the dock, he waited and watched. "Ten... nine... eight - "

Kaboom! A series of explosions in rapid succession rocked the ship and set it ablaze! Every part of his cannon plan was flawed. The cannon was in for repairs, he used way too much gunpowder, packed the cannon wrong, and didn't even think about the barrels of gunpowder in the armory. The cannon exploded, setting the gunpowder in the barrels off.

"No! That's not supposed to- " Conrad shouted, before silencing himself. This is really... really really bad! I gotta go in and get that guy out of there!

Luckily, he did not need to go in himself. Whether the Captain and some of his officers were returning naturally from their day of debauchery and deception, or whether they heard the explosion and somehow knew it was their ship, they had already made their way back to the docks. Conrad ran up to the side of another ship, transformed into hybrid form, and clung to it with his claws to hide.

There were shouts of "What the Hell?", "My ship!", "Someone get some water!", and "Damn it, Travers!" The fire had started to spread, but the officers ran in, and soon... somehow... the fire was put out. One of the officers, a large, rotund man in a striped shirt, came out carrying Travers' injured and unconscious body.

Wait, Conrad thought. I know that guy! That's the drunk! He's the one who rescued Tavers?

Another, an anemically-white, nearly skeletal man in a red tank top and shorts, stood at the door and waved. His clothes were covered in soot and slightly singed, but his pale skin was completely untouched. "I got the fire out," he shouted, "and fixed the ship!"

That fast? Impossible, Conrad thought, yet despite the anger and panic of everyone, nobody seemed surprised. "You're good for something after all," Captain Gorgo retorted. "Did you save the treasure?"

"Uh... about that... you should come see." Those words sent a shiver down the Captain's spine, and the two of them darted in. The fat man carrying Travers sighed and shook his head, turning around to head back with them.

Whatever happened next, Conrad did not stick around for. He did his damage, he claimed his reward. There was nothing left for him here. He hoped the next town he found would have a sweets shop he could spend his loot on. And, of course, a pirate crew to join.

[5008 words]