Chapter 11

More than Monsters to Worry About

“This is it?” I said.

“The sign says it all,” Jack said.

The sign read ‘Swabbie’s Shanty’. The building itself revealed more than the sign read though. The very picture of a dilapidated building, it was a three story, broken lighthouse that leaned against descending cliff paths. A narrow and loose boardwalk desperately clung to the newer planks that stretched from the docks below. The boardwalk coming up to the water house hadn't been maintained in years. It seemed as though people turned a blind eye to the water house. Water house was a nice way to say liquor shack around these parts.

Tarps covered the top of the lighthouse where it had been broken. The rest of it lay far below, scattered among coastal boulders that low tides revealed. Among those boulders, seagulls picked at a fresh corpse. Lapping waves fought off the seagulls, claiming the body for the sea.

“Don’t lean too far over the boardwalk,” Jack said. “Curiosity kills. Oh, and don’t steal anything.”

There was a line to enter the water house, giving me a few moments to take it all in. I had bigger and better images in my mind of Vicen’s island than what it was turning out to be. Being by the docks was perhaps my first real look into island life here.

People were wide eyed. Adventurers too. An unseen and common paranoia turned heads and shook the eyes of almost everyone. Not a single person did not have a weapon in their hands at the ready. Many shivs glinted against the waning dusk light.

Before we entered, Jack whispered, “Let’s not talk too loud of Vicen while we’re here.”

This wasn’t the first time Vicen’s name had been cast in a negative light. Baffled, but willing to keep silent, I followed Jack through the creaky front door.

Conversations were as quiet as they could be without sounding like the wind. Dusk light was fading fast, and glowing eyes peered at us from darkening corners of the water house.

Jack led me near a window where burlap sacks were piled on a crate. A grid of softly glowing yellow rope protected the cargo.

Jack hopped onto the pile and I followed. Boule was nowhere to be seen. If he was hidden in Jack’s cloak, he was practically invisible.

A burly man dressed in wet rags wiped down a short bar opposite the large space. He nodded our way. He whispered at a distance. White wisps absconded his mouth. A moment later, I heard his voice as though he were right beside us.

“Bottle minimum. Per person,” the proprietor said. “What’ll it be?”

“Island liquor,” Jack said in as quiet a voice.

“What about you, boy?” the man said.

“Spiced corn liquor,” Jack said.

“It’s pricey. Our best,” the man said. “We’ll gut you if you ain't good for it. Toss you right off the boardwalk like the other one this morning.”

Jack gave a single nod.

“Kork’ll be right over,” the man drawled. “Don’t cross her. She’s the one that guts them. Then gives em a one-two-heave.”

A muscular woman came through swinging doors from behind the bar. The last of dusk fell off the edge of the world. The woman lit a few oil lamps. Other servers came out of the back, as though from a quick break and began lighting oil lamps and returning to work.

Whispers became louder and shivs became sharper. Almost everyone honed their weapons surreptitiously. Eyes widened even more in the change of lighting. Every bottle between men and women emptied by a few shots. I wrung my hands.

Jack chuckled beside me.

“What?” I said.

“You’re a seasoned adventurer,” he said.

“Not as much as I’d like to be,” I said.

“I was joking,” Jack said.

The muscular woman grabbed two bottles from behind the bar and delivered them to us. She was an orc. Her tusks came out from a massive bottom jaw and framed her nose.

“I’m Kork. Yer mout’s open, healer. A look like that’ll get ya keeled.”

She handed each of us a large 750ml bottle of liquor and a small glass cup. Jack’s had a crack in it from the rim to the thick of the ball.

“Four coppa,” Kork said, holding a hand out. “Half a coppa for yers, and three and a half for Mista Spicy Corn.”

Without hesitation, Jack handed her the coins between the tips of two fingers. From his palm, he dropped a silver piece just before dropping the copper.

Kork’s eyes betrayed her suspicion. Jack nodded at me.

“Just a thanks from him,” he said. “He likes the window seat.”

Kork’s features returned to hide her suspicion. Her visage returned to its steely threat.

“Next time yer in fer water, I’ll be sure you get yer window.”

“No, I-I’m fine,” I said.

Jack put a finger to his lips to shush me. I half shrugged and watched Kork head off to tend to other patrons in the bar.

I took a moment to look around, careful not to meet too many eyes. Jack drew my attention when the cork he’d been wrestling popped out of the bottle after a tough squeak. Jack poured each of us some of his island liquor. My glass was filled to the rim.

“I doubt you’ll down your bottle in one sitting,” Jack said. “You don’t seem the sort. Tuck it away and we'll enjoy mine. Cheers.”

Our glasses clinked and we shared our second drink together.

“Vicen-” I said.

“Shh,” Jack said, rushing to swallow and interrupt me.

“‘Vee’ doesn’t seem to be all that popular here,” I said.

“I thought it was about time we talked about that,” Jack said, wiping his lips on his sleeve. “What do you know about this guy?”

“He’s a deity specializing in light healing,” I said, tucking my legs beneath me.

“Well ‘Vee’—as we’ll call him—is a very persuasive deity. I’m here because I have business with him. Very important business.”

“What’s that?” I said.

“I won’t tell you,” Jack said, pouring another drink.

“Fair,” I said.

“Cheers,” we said.

“I will tell you to be careful though,” Jack said. “I haven’t heard the best things about him. There seems to be things that you don’t know, or are under the impression of knowing, which might be incorrect.”

“Why don’t you tell me?” I said. “Why are we talking if we’re not really talking?”

“Like I said. I have business. I’ll tell you all I know after my business with him is done.”

“I have to say, Jack. The longer I’ve been on this island, the more reservations I’m collecting. I’ve been uneasy since we arrived, actually. This isn’t helping,” I said.

“Tosin. With my class, I don’t have the choice to take on allegiances with whomever I want. This deity is one of the very few who are open to someone with my class. I don’t want to anger him by sharing information I shouldn’t. This is his island after all. If he finds out I’m sharing stories that I shouldn’t—true or not—I cant afford for it to come back and bite me.”

“I can understand that,” I said. “I don’t want to get in the way of your class advancement.”

“No. You don’t,” Jack said. He smiled. His wide shadowed eyes seemed to equal the others around the bar. Others that peered outside of their own conversations. “I’ll tell you what, though. If you need help with anything, let me know. I’ll see what I can do for you. And if I can’t, I’ll let you know that you’re on your own.”

“Same with you,” I said. “If there’s anything I can do, I’ll give you the same deal.”

“Very well then,” Jack said. “What’s next for you?”

“Going straight to Vic… ‘Vee’.”

“Let’s get out of here,” Jack said. “Let’s find some lodging in the village. How about we leave at first light?”

“Are you coming with me?”

“I figure why not? Like I keep saying, I have business with the guy. If he’s our destination, we’ll be more properly armed and able to get there with the two of us. It’ll be a dangerous road to the temple. More than dangerous.”

“More than dangerous?”

“There’s more than monsters to worry about.”