Skallyport was a pirate town. There was no other way to describe it. When Mar had read about outlaw sailors with wooden peg-legs and hooks for hands he’d thought that ocean-weary sailors must have exaggerated tales of these bandits of the sea, but apparently there was more than a kernel of truth to the tales.

They a unique crowd, many of them dressed in fine coats and tunics heavily laden with jewelry. Yet one glance at their hunched posture and aggressive swagger would tell any onlooker that these individuals were more accustomed to taproom fights than ballroom dances. They had the dress and finery of noblemen, but not the mannerisms.

Mar wanted to avoid looking like some gawking foreigner, so he made sure to get as good a view of the city as he could while still on the ship, mentally constructing a map in his head from the lookout post aboard The Hidden Gem.

Nearly all of the buildings were completely made of wood. The ground the town was built on was so rocky that digging would have been impossible, and putting together a stone foundation would have been a waste of time. Much of the town was sloppily built as well, though it didn’t lack for luxuries like fine glass windows and locks on doors. Any goods that could be reasonably stolen on the seas were in abundance, but apparently all the skilled carpenters were too busy repairing ships to care about building houses. As a result, most of the buildings were hodgepodge shacks thrown together with scrap wood, with the odd professionally constructed building interspersed between.

Mar reached into his pocket and pulled out the Warlock’s Totem.

“Jinn. Wake up. I have some questions.”

A dull red glow alit inside the stone as the consciousness that resided within slowly became more aware.

They’d been sailing for over a week, though Mar had been unconscious for much of it. Since he’d woken up he hadn’t worked up the nerve to speak to the stone again. He thought back to the events in Crabhaven. He’d become so cold and callous. He’d killed people without a second thought. Maybe the mages were right. Perhaps spirit magic was intrinsically evil after all.

“I’ll ask the questions, Jinn. What happened with the beetle? And that villager, Goodman Varns.”

“Yes, but exploding and turning into a grotesque monster are two very different things.”

Mar frowned in confusion. “But how can that work? It seems to violate every law of magic I know. You can’t just create power from nothing, and I only put spirit mana in there.”

“What do you mean, sacrifice?”

Mar narrowed his eyes. “So that’s why you didn’t stop me. You’ve been pushing me towards necromancy, and this chimeromancy you’ve been mentioning. You wanted that to happen.”

“Morals are what hold a society together. If everyone thought like a demon no two people could work together without being cheated or murdered.”

If Jinn had eyes, Mar was certain he’d be rolling them.

“I just want to learn magic. I don’t want to start sacrificing virgins and summoning archdevils. And I’m certainly not every going to summon you from what every corner of the abyss your true body calls home, if that was part of your plan..”

Mar continued glaring at the stone, but he did acknowledge that that had been a question he’d wanted to ask.

“I don’t like it.” Mar said. “Is there any way to reduce the effect?”

Jinn sighed.

Mar was going to insist that Jinn talk about them further when a call came up from down below.

“Mar! Time to earn your keep! Come on down here and get to writin’! It’s time to pay the crew!”

That must have been First Mate Jimson. He had told Mar earlier that he’d need the young scholars help calculating the pay for each member of the crew. Sadly it would be lower than normal, since they had only managed to bring in half a cargo hold of fermented crab. There would be some grumbling at that, but every sailor had seen the cold looks the villagers of Crabhaven had given them before they left. And more than one of them had seen the insect monster that had appeared from the forest. Though they might complain, they knew their captain had made the right call.

“Do you have any paper?” Mar asked.

“Paper’s expensive lad. I think the captain’s got a logbook, but I don’t think he’ll be wantin’ you touchin’ that.” Jimson replied. “Just spit the numbers out for me.”

“Grob has paper!” the goblin leapt from foot to foot, holding out a several loose pages. Despite being made by the goblin himself, they of relatively high quality. Grob took papermaking seriously.

Mar gratefully accepted the stack of pages, and the proffered quill and ink. The seagull feather was primitive compared to the dwarven pens he was used to writing with, but it would do.

Looking for a table but not seeing one, Mar found a bucket and flipped it upside down, preparing it as a workstation as he sat down cross-legged in front of it. He then had Jimson recite each crew member's name and allotted share, the ships expenses for food and supplies, and finally the final profit from the sale of the cargo.

Mar sank himself into the familiar task of paper and pen. Soon he’d filled the entire scrap of paper with a table of payout with each sailor's name listed. Once they were finished with that Jimson took one glance at the paper and had Mar write down the profits and inventory as well.

In his concentration, Mar didn’t notice Captain Rollie walk over. His footsteps were always eerily quiet, so Mar was startled when he glanced up and noticed him there. The captain leaned down and picked up the piece of paper underneath Mar’s hands.

“This is good work.” The captain commented. “Meticioulus record keeping is essential to a mercantile enterprise.” The captain glanced at Jimson, who looked at the ground sheepishly. “Perhaps I’ll have you take over keeping my logbook.

“Ah, thank you captain." Mar said uneasily. He remembered how Thamos had told him how the captain had been the one to rescue him after his fight with Goodman Varns.

Before Mar could respond, the captain tossed a small leather pouch at Mar. It hit his makeshift desk with a thud and the light ring of coins. Captain Rollie rolled the paper into a tube which he then stuck in his belt.

“There’s a tavern in town. The Red Anchor. You can’t miss it. It’s got a giant rusty anchor in front. You’ll find most of the crew is already there. Buy what you need from the shops, then come find me at the tavern. We should talk.”

Talk? What was that about? From the tone in Captain Rollie’s voice Mar didn’t think this was just a friendly chat. Before he could respond either way the captain was gone. The captains approach and departure were so silent Mar felt almost like he wasn’t there at all. What a strange man.

“Lad! Mar!” Thamos approached, taking a sip from his flask. "Got your pay? Then come ashore with me. I’ll show you how a proper sailor wastes his coin in port!”

Mar glanced back at First Mate Jimson, who nodded at him. “Be back by high noon tomorrow. You can find a place to sleep in town or come back to the ship.”

Mar and Thamos started heading down the gangplank and Mar took his first steps into Skallyport. It was his first time on land in a while and he nearly lost his balance when he felt the land swaying under him, like the deck of a ship.

Thamos merely laughed at Mar’s surprise. “So ye finally got your sea legs, eh? Well now you need to get your land legs back! Don’t worry about the swayin’ feeling. It’ll pass. I hardly even notice it anymore.”

As they walked into Skallyport Mar stops and notices a familiar sight. A sleek, black ship with black sails is in port. The name The Winking Maiden is clearly visible on the side. That was the same ship he’d seen in Yvast. He wondered if that orc he’d spoken to before was in town.

“So what’d you like to see first, lad?” Thamos asked Mar. “I’ve been to this town so many times I know it’s streets like a local.”

“I’d like to visit some shops. Buy some jewelry or something.” Mar had only been able to rescue a single crystal from his fight with Goodman Varns and if he wanted to practice more magic he’d need to obtain more.

“Got a sweetheart back in Yvast, do ya?” Thamos raised his eyebrow but Mar shook his head.

“I imagine prices will be lower here, as I doubt the jewelry here was all obtained from completely legitimate sources. The prices will be lower, which means I can sell them at the next port we come across for a profit.”

Thamos whistled. “Now I can see why the captain likes you so much. You’ve got a smugglers mindset! Keep it up and in a couple decades you’ll have your own ship and crew.”

Thamos lead the way down the muddy packed-dirt roads until eventually they came to a line of storefronts. Some were simple tables laid out on the edge of the street, whereas others were shops with signs and items on display. All had merchants of varying race and appearance beckoning potential customers forward to make a purchase.

Mar only spotted a single open air stall that was selling jewelry. The merchant kept the wares closest to him on his table, peering at them occasionally, making sure they hadn’t been stolen. He approached the stall and the merchant, whose eyes lit up when he saw a potential customer. “How much for these?” Mar gestured to the merchant, who was a tall thin man with long hair and a cloth wrapped around his forehead.

“How much for those.” Mar asked, gesturing at several loose gemstones of varying quality.

The merchant’s eyes scanned Mar up and down, lingering for a moment on his full purse and young face. Mar saw where he was looking and moved his hand over his coin pouch.

After his brief inspection, the merchant spoke with a wide smile. “Ah, an excellent eye for wares you have young man. These lovely beauties are twenty dwarven golden krowns. Or seventeen gold denarii.

“Seventeen?” Mar asked in a huff. “They aren’t even cut or polished.”

The merchant frowned, realizing that his prospective customer wasn’t as young and naive as he’d hoped. “Ah, I’m sorry young sir. I thought you meant for all my jewelry. For just these lovely little stones it’ll cost you five gold denarii.”

Mar untied the knot that held the coin pouch around his waist. He hefted the bag in his hand. “I’ve got a pouch full of coppers here, merchant.”

The stall keeper looked like he wanted to haggle more, but just then Thamos walked up and the merchants eyes went wide.

“Thamos!” The merchant said in a surprised voice. “I didn’t think you’d be back here anytime soon…”

Thamos glared at the merchant. “Borthis. Tryin’ to scam the young lad out of his hard earned coin?”

“Ah, my apologies Thamos. I didn’t realize that this young man was with you. We were just about to finish our transaction anyhow. Now, as I was saying, five gold denarii—”

Thamos snorted. “I know you Borthis, and I know nothing on this table is worth five gold denarii. You still owe me from the game table last winter. Give the lad the gems for the price you paid and I won’t tell the rest of the boys on my ship that I saw you.”

Boris let out a slow sigh, but eventually nodded his head. In the end Mar was able to take about half the gems for only ten silver denarii.

“Thanks, Thamos.” Mar said appreciatively as the pair started walking away.

“Eh, couldn’t let Borthis rob ya blind. He’ll take every coin you’ve got if you give him the chance.”

“I was told the crew was meeting tonight at some inn called the Red Anchor. Do you know where that is?” Mar asked.

Thamos nodded affirmatively. “I’ve you’re all done shoppin’ we can head on back there. I bet Boris and Hans are already three drinks in by now.”

Thamos lead them down several narrow passageways. Several local ruffians gave them dirty looks, eying Mar with predatory gazes. Thamos gave them each a glare though and they withered under his scrutiny. Soon enough they were in front of a two floor building with a rusty old anchor painted on a sign in front of it.

“Here we are, the Red Anchor. Don’t sit down anywhere until I do. A lot of these seats are reserved.”

As they opened the doors, Mar took note of the wooden structure. Much of the wood that made up the building seemed to have spent quite a bit of time in the water. The beam that ran through the center of the building above their heads looked suspiciously like a mast. It fit very well with the overtly nautical theme of Skallyport. Mar had no doubt that much of the wood used in the buildings construction had been scrap wood left over from the building or decommissioning of various ships.

The seating arrangement was also very peculiar. The inn also served as a large tavern, and there were many tables distributed throughout the room with plenty of walking space between them. Most of the tables were positioned towards the sides of the building, with the center of the room relatively open. Perhaps a place for a musician to perform.

Mar also noticed that customers were dispersed sporadically around the room. There were small groups of tables that were completely overflowing patrons, and other tables that were untouched.

Thamos noticed Mar’s gaze and gestured to one of the empty tables. “That one's for the Black Rat’s crew. Nasty bunch. Their captain keeps a barrel full of starving rats around, and he’s been know to lock the occasional mutinous crew member or raid victim inside for a night. By morning there’s naught left but bones.

Mar shivered slightly at the thought. The Black Rats sounded like a nasty bunch.

“We’re not in this port long enough to claim a table, but the ones on the second floor are mostly unclaimed. At least they’re not claimed by anyone important. We’ll find the rest of the crew waiting for us up there.”

Mar followed Thamos up the stairs, where he was greeted by familiar faces.

“There’s the lad!” Said Boris with a grin. “Now I believe we talked about a rematch?”

Mar had already admitted to his little plot back in Crabhaven, and so Boris was eager to reclaim his pride as an alcoholic.

“I’m afraid it won't be much of a competition.” Mar said. “I’m not much of a drinker, and I’ve already spent most of my coin.”

Hans shook his head. “What are you teaching the lad, Thamos? First lesson on being a sailor is to spend all your money at the brothel and tavern. Anythin’ else is just a waste.”

They all shared a good laugh as Mar and Thamos sat down. Mar smiled, as this was the first time he was really starting to feel like one of the crew.