[Merchant Lord Admiral] Testudo takes a deep breath on the balcony of his flagship, gracing his nose with the smell of dark coffee and salty sea air. The smell calms him, stilling his nerves in the face of an anxiety-inducing enemy armada. Two hundred ships of the line lie ahead, led by three of the ten strongest captains on the seas. All of them are undoubtedly led by Aegir, the ultimate enemy of the bean and Testudo’s greatest rival.

Yes, a rival he didn’t know he had until it was pointed out to him, a formidable foe that has cost him and will cost him now. On Testudo’s side are over a hundred and twenty [Mercenary Captains] commanded by five [Mercenary Admirals]. None of them were cheap. The money he’s poured into this plan is enough to beggar an average kingdom three times over. Several decades of his wealth, all gone to create a fleet that could match in number and experience against Aegir’s.

Unfortunately, the cowardly [Grand Admiral] hides behind others, unwilling to engage in this Duel of Drinks directly. Truly, he’s a despicable man who must consume tea on a daily basis, while making sure to suppress the bean every moment he gets. The mere thought of the man gets Testudo’s blood boiling, simmering down only when he takes another sip from his enchanted mug.

“[Lord] Testudo, the [Mercenary Admirals] are requesting permission to retreat,” his [Butler] informs him, standing respectfully behind. “How do you wish to reply?”

Testudo doesn't say anything, merely raising his mug to his lips. He takes a sip again and feels his mind sharpen, heart quicken, and bowels move.

With the divine drink flowing through him, empowering him with its strength, he activates one of his strongest skills.

“[A Moment’s Consideration].”

Time slows to a standstill as his thoughts speed up and splinter into a fractal of parallel thoughts, each idea imagined and tested, each thought completed faster than any tea drinking mind could imagine. A single second is all he uses, a mere moment to make a plan with crystalline clarity, an instantaneous decision made with a luxury of consideration any [General] would dream of having.

A second that, for him, lasts an hour.

With time on his side, he decides to throw caution to the wind. It is time to be daring.

_______

Teuta grinds her teeth as she stands at the wheel of the Queen's Gambit. “I will castrate him and his dead ancestors if he touches even a hair on my son's head,” she growls at Aegir’s flag ship, the Iron Rain. A stupid name for a stupid ship with a thousand stupid broadside cannons. Oh, how she would love to pit the Queen’s Gambit against his oversized scow. It would be so easy, so very easy. She can just taste the easy victory. All she would need to do is aim the prow of her ship and then ram him into smithereens.

Then, after his ship is in pieces, she’s going to capture the stupid fuck, tie him over her bed, and have her [Pirates] do what she did to his stupid ship. Except slower. Much, much slower. She’s already got the plan made, including the names of her largest men and enough potions of stamina to keep them going for days. By the time they are done, Aegir will be–

“My [Queen],” her daydreaming is interrupted by a woman’s voice, “Aegir is ordering us to engage Testudo with Molucca. What are your orders?”

Teuta looks away from the Iron Rain to glare at her [First Mate], Bhumi, for her interruption. The [First Mate], to her credit, merely adjusts her glasses.

“Fine,” Tueta growls. “We’ll engage with the guy. Where the fuck is he?”

Bhumi raises a hand and points.

Her gaze follows Bhumi’s finger beholds the shiniest ship she’d ever seen. The ship, like the Queen's Gambit and the Iron Rain, is a dreadnought sized warship, but unlike the two ships, it’s constructed entirely of metal.

“How the fuck does it even float?” she asks aloud. She knows of dwarven warships covered in metal plating, even sunk a couple hundred, but they were always made primarily of wood. However, the ship she’s staring at is almost exclusively made of metal. The only non-shiny surface on the ship are the sails.

“[Royal Smith-Admiral] Molucca has a unique bloodline skill that allows him to make most metal he touches float above water. His capital ship is called the Dwarven Anvil and is considered the sturdiest ship in the sea.” Bhumi explains.“

Teuta snorts. “Dwarves and their metal infatuation. So what's his rank?”

Bhumi adjusts her glasses again. “Moluccas’ current rank is ten, but rumor says that he’s probably higher than that and the only reason he isn’t is because his ship is too slow to catch anyone who retreats. He is, however, undefeated.”

“Ahh, so he wants Testudo’s rank.”

The [First Mate] shakes her head. “Unlikely. Molucca is a loyal servant of [Mountain Archking] Hreidmar and is likely ordered to protect Aegir as part of a tax deal between Svartalfheim and the Aesir.”

The [Pirate ArchQueen], captain of the Queen's Gambit, mistress of the sea, and loving mother, sighs sadly. “Bhumi, add him and all of Svartalfheim to my kill list. Anyone who supports Aegir is going to die.”

Bhumi reaches behind her back and retrieves a small booklet. She opens it and starts writing. “Do you want to add any specific methods?”

“Later,” Teuta replies, “it looks like Molucca is moving to engage.”

Indeed, the Dwarven Anvil releases its hundreds of sails and blankets the wind. Slowly, ever so slowly, the ship trudges forward, followed right behind by twenty support frigates carrying Svartalfheim’s flag.

The [Pirate ArchQueen] shakes her head at the steel ship and then looks forward. Her aura billows out like a tidal wave that washes over the Queen’s Gambit and her fleet of sixty ships, ten of which are captained by her [Pirate Admirals].

With a silent command, in perfect sync, sails unfurl and her navy surges forward, pulling ahead of Molucca. Her own ship leads the charge, the waves parting for the Queen's Gambit as it makes way toward the enemy flagship.

_______

Abernick sneers. “I’m never getting on a ship ever again.”

Quasi rolls his eyes. “You’re overreacting. It’s just a bit of motion sickness.”

“I am not!” the [Prince] denies. “And I’m not leaving. I’ve decided to stay here and join the Necromancer Guild.”

The [Hero] raises an eyebrow. “All because you don't want to get on a boat?”

Abernick huffs up at Quasi as the [Hero] leans on the rail of Davy Jones' ship. They’re almost ready to depart and only need a few more preparations.

“It's not just motion sickness,” he starts again, but calmer. “I’ve been meaning to find where I belong, to do something with my life. Aimlessly following you around on your damn adventure is interesting and all, but it's not fulfilling.”

Abernick extends his hand to the peanut gallery of living guild members watching the exchange. “I’m a [Grand Necromancer] with enough levels and experience to help others become better. I… I think this is the best for me.”

“Can you not?” Quasi pouts.

“Not what?”

“Not make this a heartwarming goodbye. I really hate those. It makes it annoyingly difficult to try to convince people to follow me around,” Quasi explains with a grin on his face.

Abernick shakes his head and returns the grin. “I’ll still be here if or when you come and visit.”

“I’ll try, but no promises.” Quasi reaches up, grabs the brim of his hat, and nods down at Abernick. “So long, for now.”

Abernick’s grin diminishes, but does not vanish. “Very well. Goodbye, Quasi! Next time I see you, don’t plan to draw me into whatever mess you bring with you.”

Quasi steps away from the rail, laughing, and nods to one of the undead. The undead grabs a rope and raises the gangway from the pier. Not a second later and he feels the ropes holding the ship in place loosen, another moment and the ship’s cast off. The Flying Dutchman floats away from the pier where Abernick quietly waves. Quasi waves back.

“Preparation complete. Activating Mana-heart.” Davy Jones' voice booms over the ship's inhabitants.

From the depths of the ship, Quasi feels a heartbeat, a reverberation so deep that it thrums through his bones. More pulses follow, growing faster and faster until the staccato beat merges into a constant, subsonic hum.

“General ship enchantments, activating.”

A burst of mana explodes from the ship, starting up hundreds of enchantments, one of which suppresses the vibrations and another creates a waterproof, glowing dome above the deck.

“Descending now.”

It’s almost eerie how silent the ship itself is as it dives, submerging within seconds. Wood should creak underfoot, the mast should groan with the breeze, rigging should creak and snap. Davy Jones does not care what should be, and has lined the ship with enough bone to breathe unlife into its aged hull. It sees no point in swaying.

Down it goes, further, deeper, into the dark. The only light now comes from the ship itself, only to be swallowed by the gloom all around. That is, until at last, it reaches an acceptable depth. With the barest of tremors, it accelerates through the water, up and out through a chasm, and into the black forest of treants. Faster it goes, with a wake to wake the dead that rocks the ocean floor, the ship sails through all obstacles.

From the depths of the ship, Davy Jones walks up onto the deck with both Jessica and Fiona in tow. The girls gape in surprise at the glowing dome that protects the deck from the water.

While the girls watch outside in wonder, Davy Jones strolls up to Quasi. “You fine, lad?” he asks, sensing the man's mood.

Quasi nods slowly while continuing to stare out of the dome. “I will be. I’m just a bit surprised how much I actually cared to have Abernick around.”

“Ahh, the [Grand Necromancer]. Yes, the man came to me and asked if he could join. Considering his experience, I couldn’t exactly say no.”

“It's probably for the best. I shouldn’t expect him to follow me around everywhere.”

Davy Jones nods. “Goodbyes are always hard, and they never really get easier.”

Quasi chuckles. “No,” he replies, “but maybe one day?”

The two stare outside the dome, watching the various fish splatter against the shield for several silent minutes. Eventually, their silence is broken when a massive whale gets smeared across the barrier.

“So, Davy, I’ve been meaning to ask. Why is your ship called the Flying Dutchman? Are you actually Dutch?”

The undead captain tilts his skull. “I’m not sure what a Dutch is, but my ship was created using the corpse of a water dragon named Dutchman.”

“So where does the flying part come from?”

The skull on the [Archlich] seems to bend into a smile. “I’ll show you when we near our destination.”

Quasi rolls his eyes. The pirate’s not being as clever as he thinks. “Fine, be cryptic… Speaking of our destination, can you tell me more about what I’ll be dealing with?”

“Nothing specific.” Davy raises a hand forward. Mana swirls above his palm as though he is carrying fog. Slowly, the foggy mana rises into the air and forms nine blurry images of ships. “I don't know the size of the fleets, though I suspect they each number in the hundreds. But I do know their flagships.”

With a wave of Davy’s hand, the blurry ships unblur.

“Though I could probably take on the enemy fleet on my own, I still run the risk of something going horribly wrong and my ship getting destroyed. The reason is these flagships,” he explains. He waves his hand again, and the array of unique ships sharpen into life-like detail.

“A long time ago, I spread the ranking system of captains and ships to help me keep track of whom I had to watch out for and who were just guppies. Any one of these ships has a small chance of ending me if I’m not careful.”

Four of the life-like ships float forward. “You will be near four of them.”

Quasi stares at the ships. He only recognizes one of them, Testudo’s castle ship, the Navis.

“Since you want to help Testudo, you’ll most likely face these three.”

The Navis is pushed back and the other three are shrunken and positioned right in front of Quasi. Of the three ships, one of them is moved forward and opened up as though he is looking at a translucent, labeled 3D model. The ship is large, like the others, but also sleek with a monstrous ram's head at the bow.

“Now,” Davy begins like a geek in his element, “these ships all Dreadnought class, the largest ships currently sailing the seas. The first, and arguably strongest other than my own, is the Queen's Gambit, captained by [Pirate Archqueen] Teuta. Her ship can ram with enough power to crush almost any ship, even the Flying Dutchman if I allowed it. Its weakness though, is armament. Any ship that avoids her charge has a chance of defeating her.”

The next ship comes forward, a ship only slightly larger than the Queen's Gambit. The exterior turns translucent, revealing the hundreds of broadside cannons which glow in highlight. Each of the guns has a rotating barrel for rapidfire..

“The Iron Rain, Aegir’s ship, is a mess of cannons which it uses to swiftly overwhelm enemies. Two ways to defeat this one. One: tank a few hits and when it’s out of ammo, the ship is defenseless. Should happen in just a couple minutes. Two: those guns are only medium caliber. Sit back and shell with bigger guns, and the day is yours.”

Finally, the last ship is moved forward. The shiny ship made entirely of steel looks like it should sink to the bottom of the ocean, but it floats anyway.

“The last ship and arguably the most resilient ship of the ten, is the Dwarven Anvil, a poorly made, smaller replica of the infamous Haven before it was lost. Captained by Molucca, the Dwarven Anvil, made nearly entirely of metal, is able to float across the water and has armor thick enough to withstand nearly any attack. Its weakness, though, is in its extremely slow speed and the fact that Molucca must always be touching his ship or it will immediately sink like a rock.”

With a flick of his bony wrist, the models disappear and Davy nods at Quasi. “So, I hope you have a plan to deal with those three.”

Quasi smirks. “No worries, I’ve already got a plan. Just drop me off somewhere near the fighting and watch.