The side of the ship where I had jumped off didn’t have any ladders or ropes, but further forward, between the mainmast and the foremast, a rope had been strung from the ends of two booms that jutted out over the sea. A rope ladder had been flung over the side of the ship, and several other players were using it to get back out of the sea before attempting to cross the tightrope again. So I oriented myself on them and swam in that direction.
There were a few in the water waiting for their turn on the ladder, as it seemed only one could go up at a time, so I joined the queue and tread water, while watching people attempt the rope crossing. The first guy didn’t even get to the end of the boom before he slipped and fell with a splash. The second was a bit more careful on the boom, but three steps on the rope, and it went left when his body went right. The next was a different kettle of fish entirely. He looked like he was just taking a stroll as he confidently walked across the rope with his hands behind his back. He was about halfway across when one of the players tapped me on the shoulder.
“Your turn.”
“Oh,” I responded, looking around at the four faces, two of which, in addition to the speaker, I’m sure were here before me. “You sure?” I asked. Nods from all of them. I shrugged, moved over to the ladder, grabbed it and started pulling myself up.
About halfway up, I looked down to confirm my footing, and realised the five below suddenly seemed like they were looking anywhere but up the ladder…where I’m pretty sure their eyes had been a moment before. I rolled my eyes and made sure to get up as quickly as possible.
I got to the top and found another queue of five people waiting to attempt the rope crossing. They were cheering for the guy who had crossed with his hands behind his back.
“Congratulations, Mr Storm.” Said one of the sailors. “Two tokens, one for crossing the line, and another for doing so without needing your hands. First time as well. My respects”
“Good job, dude! Any advice?” the person ahead of me in the line called out.
“Thank you,” said the player whose name tag read Samuel Storm, as he shook the sailor’s hands and stored the two tokens he had been passed. “Keep your centre of gravity low and your weight balanced on the line. It’s a lot like slacklining, if you have ever done that?” He nodded towards the person attempting now, as the rope swung back and forth, before he went over and into the drink. “And try to avoid overcompensating your mistakes…though that is easier said than done… I have an extra point in dex from the rigging climb, which might have also helped…”
“Yeah, me too, didn’t help my first attempt, but hopefully practice makes perfect? Right?”
“You can only hope,” he confirmed before moving off to another part of the ship.
I watched two more people attempt the line; most of the waiting time was more from waiting for them to clear out of the way before one of the sailors would let the next person climb onto the boom, and thought about the riddle again.
“I have one half in the night sky and the other in a lake. If my arms had hands, there would be many for you to shake. I can regrow a part of me if it is cut off. What am I?”
I must have muttered it out loud, as the person behind me said, “Oh, the plank riddle? That’s Starfish.”
“What?” I asked, turning around to look at him. The player had had some fun with his sliders as he had a face only a mother could love, the shortest legs, a huge barrel chest and the longest arms possible.
“Ahh, you shouldn’t have told her that. That NPC doesn’t reward anyone if they get told the answer or look it up online. Accuses them of cheating and tells them the world spirits will punish them for such dishonesty.” The guy behind him put in.
“Really? Oh shit, Sorry love, I was just trying to be helpful.” The short one said, though his shit-eating grin made me think he wasn’t, and it was intentional.
When my turn came about, I climbed the box that had been set up to help people get up the height of the main mast’s boom; the sailor up there made sure I stayed balanced until I was out over the water. I held my hands out for balance and carefully walked along the long spar used as part of the sail’s rigging. I got to the end, turned and put one foot on the rope. I was still barefooted, so I tried to grip the rope with my foot. Carefully stepped out and put the second down. Then I took a third step. The rope shook. ‘Don’t overcompensate. Don’t overcompensate.’ I told myself repeatedly. Fourth step… I’d like to claim I then ran across that rope like a pro…but no. The rope went left…I didn’t. Well shit! I could feel myself starting to fall.
Then I swung. My left hand had touched the rope, and it had closed around it instinctively. I could feel the strain on my arm as I quickly lifted my right hand to also grab the rope. I took a moment to regather myself. I could feel the strain growing, though. I wasn’t strong enough to cross the line on just my arm strength alone. I kicked forward with both legs, making me start to swing backwards. I used the momentum to kick backwards. This then allowed me to swing forward with more force, and I got my left leg up on the rope. It was easy to then bring my right leg up and take the strain off my arms.
One token for crossing the line, one for doing so without using my hands. I started to move myself along the rope towards the boom attached to the foremast.
“Hey! That’s cheating!” One of the wet people in the queue called out.”
“Nope.” One of the sailors denied. “You only need to get from one boom to the other. Though by using her arms, she’ll only earn one token.”
“Wait? Really?” His flabbergasted tone was echoed by several other wet players.
The journey across the rope was relatively benign; the only difficult part was at the far end, trying to transition from the rope to the considerably thicker boom. I considered carrying on the underside of it, but wasn’t sure if I would find it easy to grip. Using the corner where the rope was secured to the boom, I managed to get up on top of the boom and then kind of wormed my way back onto the ship, to a light applause from some of the other players, but nowhere near the same extent as what the last one managed.
I watched the short-arse not even bother to try and cross on his feet, he scooted along the boom on his butt, and then just went straight into hanging from the rope.
“Congratulations, Ms Ravenscroft.” Said the sailor near the start as he offered me a single token, which I stored into [Inventory]. “You are welcome to try again for the second if you would like, though you won't be able to get another one for just crossing the rope.”
“Thank you. I might come back, but I don’t think I have quite got the balance needed for running across a rope like that.”
“It’s a beneficial skill, but not one for everyone,” he acknowledged.
“Fuck!” I heard, looking over at the player, his legs swung ineffectually below him. One hand half over the foremast’s boom, the other on the rope, both clearly slipping. A moment later, there was a splash. “Bullshit!” he exclaimed. There was another splash as he slapped at the water. The sailor just rolled his eyes and shook his head.
Heading back to the riddle giver, I considered what that player had told me about how the game seemed to think that being given the answer or looking it up would be cheating. It’s possible that I might have gotten it. In hindsight, the half in the night sky was clearly Star, and the other in the river, fish. Starfish. But that was looking at it, knowing the answer.
The gruff man was still leaning against the rail. Staring at his hands in thought.
“Sorry.” I began once I had reached him. “I know the answer is ‘Starfish,’ but someone told me. I’m not sure I would have gotten it; my mind had gone in a completely different direction. Hugely over-complicating it, if I’m being honest.”
He looked at me, surprised. “I like riddles,” he said, “and challenging others with them.” he pulled out a token from his pocket. “You pass. Sure, it’s best if you figure them out yourself, but honesty about your sources is a close second. We all grow from sharing knowledge, as long as we give credit where it’s due,” he grinned. “The world just hates a cheater!”
I stored the token into [Inventory] and shook his hand in thanks.
For your positive social interactions with the crew, Charisma point gained.’
One of the other players had mentioned getting a stat point from the rigging climb, and I saw where that must have been. Opposite the tightrope, there was a crowd of players watching four others racing up the cargo net like rope ladders which ran from the rails up the booms to a platform near the top of the main mast. I headed over to get a closer look.
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“Wanna join the Ratrace?” A broad-shouldered sailor asked as I approached. “Get to the Top before the sands run out. “He nods at the sandglass that had been turned over when the 4 people started, “you get a token. Be the first of your race. Win another.”
“Sounds like it could be fun.”
“That’s the spirit! Now, seeing as you are all landlubbers, we will rope you up. No exceptions! We ain't dealing with the side effects of one of you falling and braining yourself on the deck. See Damian over there.” He pointed over at one of the sailors who was creating a rope harness around one of the players. I realised everyone queueing up for the races was wearing one. It was tied to create a hoop between the shoulders. Each of the climbers had a rope tied off to a loop at their shoulders, the slack kept taut by sailors on deck. The wisdom of this became apparent when one of the racers slipped and dropped four metres before the sailor locked off the line, leaving the player hanging in the air. He was then able to swing himself back to the ladder and rejoin the race to the top.
I stepped up to the rope-tying sailor when it was my turn, who looked me up and down before turning and pulling a length of rope from one of the piles behind him.
“You ever climb t’ rats?’ he asked, as he tied a couple of knots in the rope, creating two loops, and indicated I should step into them.
“Afraid knot,” I said, unable to resist the dad joke and did as requested.
“The thick cables up are called the Shroud. They help to keep the mast stable,” he quickly brought the rope up my back and pulled it around my torso in a few places. “The horizontal ropes are called ratlines. I suggest putting a shroud line between your legs and stepping on the lines on either side.” He grabbed something between my shoulder blades and lifted. My feet came off the ground as the rope harness lifted me up. He had done a good job of spreading the load as it seemed spread over the whole harness and not just on my legs. It also didn’t feel too tight either. “Try moving, no pinches?” I tried flexing in different directions with no issue.
“None I can feel.”
“Good. Go and join one of the queues,” he indicated, where people were lining up 4 abreast. There would be 3 races before it was my turn. So I joined the back and took a moment to check out my competition.
The guy on my right was looking nervous. He was eyeing the ropes suspiciously and winced every time one of the climbers slipped. The two to my left were clearly friends as they bantered with each other.
“Totally going to beat you up this time, Micky.”
“Nah, John. Not in this or any other universe. I’m king of the lines!”
“I almost had you on the last one.”
“Doesn’t matter if it is an inch or a mile. Losing is losing.”
“You came third.”
“Yeah, and you came fourth!”
“I would have won if I hadn't slipped!”
I looked up as a new race started, 3 looked much like the others I had seen. OK, but not great. The fourth, though, seemed to be sprinting up the line. He hit the top before the others even got to the halfway point.
“Damn!” I muttered, impressed.
“That’s the 4th race he has won…” the nervous guy muttered. “He’s just showing off; it’s not like he can win any more tokens for it.”
“He’s grinding Dex. Some people have got stat points for the climb, he thinks if he keeps winning, he will get another,” a voice behind us muttered.
The next race went pretty much as the others. Two of the runners slipping, and having to swing back. Two of them with practised ease, though nowhere near as fast as the one before him. From what I could tell, you could afford one, maybe two slips if you otherwise set a good pace, but too many falls or too many times getting your limbs tangled in the lines meant you weren’t quick enough for a token.
When it was our turn, I stepped up, put a foot on the box below the lines, reached up to grab the highest rail I could reach and realised it was two lower than any of my competitors…I was starting with a handicap.
“On your marks. Get set. Go!” one of the sailors shouted. We were off.
The first couple of rungs took me a moment to get, but once I had a feel for the difference between them, I got into the rhythm. My focus was solely on moving my limbs and keeping my upwards movement steady. No rushing. I wasn’t here to beat the others, just to get to the top as fast as I could. It was just me and the next rung…no, me and the next rail. The whole shroud shook when one of the two slipped. I had just secured my footing and grip and was about to lift the other side when it happened, which helped me to stay on. I was about to move when it shook again when his companion fell off as well.
I felt someone grip the back of my harness, and I was pulled onto a smaller platform below where the shrouds had been secured.
“Good going, Missy. You won!” I looked up at the grinning sailor. I then leant forward to look down at my competition. The two friends were squabbling about halfway down, yanking each other off the shroud. The third had locked up. White-knuckled, eyes fixed looking down, his eyes most likely locked on the ground. He was clearly petrified. I brought up the hud and looked at his name. Arthur Pendragon. I resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
“Arthur!” I called out. He didn’t respond. “Arthur, look at me!” still nothing. I brought up my HUD and sent him a DM [‘Arthur Pendragon. Look up!’] The message received ‘ding’ made him jump. I think only his fear-induced death grip kept him from falling off. His head slowly looked up until his eyes met mine.
“Do you know circle breathing?” I called out. A shaky head nod. “Do it with me then. Arthur. 4 seconds. Breath in. Hold for four…out for four…” on the third cycle, he was starting to calm down. By the 5th, he was ready to start moving again.
“Keep your eyes on the ropes in front of you. Just one at a time. You’ve got this!” I encouraged.
“Good going.” The sailor next to me acknowledged as he pulled in the clearly relieved acrophobic. “You just made it in time, Kiddo,” he lied as he passed the guy a token. “And yours,” he said, passing me three of them. “Good acts deserve rewards,” he whispered in response to my raised eyebrow. “So, you have a choice: we can get you back down on the deck, or I can switch your line and let you climb up to the crow’s nest. The view is worth it.”
“I’ll go up,” I confirmed.
“Down for me, please,” whimpered Arthur.
He wasn’t wrong; the view was breathtaking. After switching out my rope tether, I swung out onto the outer shrouds on the far side of the ship... At the top of those, a sailor directed me onto another set of ratrails which led up to the crow’s nest. I was expecting something small, barely room for one, from what I had seen in movies, but there was enough space for 4. One of the crew was up here with a telescope staring out at a ship in the far distance, occasionally jotting down something. I could feel a slight sway on the ship. Something I hadn’t noticed before.
I took a moment to enjoy the view. The practically cloudless sky was a beautiful blue from horizon to horizon. From this height, I could barely see the ripples in the becalmed sea. It seemed almost like a flat plane linking our ship to the ones a few hundred metres on either side. From this height, I was also able to make out the ship in the far distance that the crewman was staring at, as well as a few more spread out further to the north. The only thing marring the view was a small grey smudge in the distance to the north, too distant to tell if it was a cloud, smoke or something else.
The sailor collapsed the telescope, stored it away, and then quickly finished writing in his notepad. He ripped off a page, disappeared the pad and pulled out a small capsule attached to a pulley block. He attached the block to a line which ran down from the nest to near the front of the ship's wheel and let it go. It sped up as it fell down the line, but not as quickly as if he just dropped it. A passing sailor grabbed it before it hits the wheel housing and took it down to the Captain’s office.
“Lovely view.” I small-talked, now he didn’t seem occupied. I had my 6 tokens now, but the Bosun had said at least 6…
“Aye. The fleet is a little spread out; most are just over the horizon.” He nodded east. “We’re at the tail end of it thanks to this lack of wind. We just got word that the ships in the lead have spotted the outer isles, so if we can rustle up some wind, it shouldn’t be long before we arrive.”
“What’s it like?”
“The New World?”
“Truth be told, we weren't there long. We dropped off the first wave restocked what we could. Spent a bit more time in the isles fishing for supplies and sailed back to pick up you lot.” he stretched out his back. “Landing…is like nothing I have ever seen. You ever been to the port of Hastings?” I shook my head. “Sheltered Port city, built into a cliff face. Landing reminded me a lot like it. But where Hastings they carved into the cliff over generations, in Landing, while there is a cliff on one side, it’s like they built their own cliff as well. Buildings reaching up to scrape the sky. Colossal statues standing guard against the sea. The arcane majesty of the School of Magic. The huge roads with their unnaturally smooth flat surfaces… People have been apparently living there for years. Surprised their highnesses, it did. Welcomed with open arms by people who have been there for years, exploring. They had been expecting them. They gave us the sea charts which got us back in time to rescue you.” he pulled his telescope out of his [inventory]. “Would you mind keeping an eye on that ship while I get myself something to smoke?”
I took the offered telescope and carefully opened it up, lifted it to my eye and looked out towards the indicated ship. It made it look three times larger, instead of being on the edge of my perception. The image was blurry, though.
“Twist to adjust the focus,” the sailor said as he pulled out a small tin. I twisted the brass tube until the distant ship sharpened into view, the green and red flags snapping like tiny brushstrokes of colour against the blue. “Can you see any flags near the stern?”
I found them. “From the top, green, green, red and blue, green, green, and the bottom one is black and white.”
“That's it. Let me know if they change,” he snapped his fingers, a small flame appeared, which he used to light his pipe. “Where was I? Oh yeah. Landing. It must have been something amazing when it was built. Nature has started taking it back, and even though people have been living there for years, large parts of it are like a jungle. Trees growing out of the middle of roads. Buildings covered in vines. Strange beasts out of nursery stories stalking the night. We still have some of their meat in storage. Cookie has been saving it until all of you were integrated. We were warned it can have undesirable consequences to those without the system. Might even have some at dinner tonight, seeing as everyone awake has completed integration.” He blew a ring and then a second through the first.
“We were able to visit the School of Magic before we left. To see if we got anything truly rare. Spells need to be earned from ancient spirits. They have strict requirements on how they can share new ones, but everyone can earn at least one from completing some simple quests for them. Most of us picked up some basic cantrips, like how I lit my pipe…safer than matches, that’s for sure.”
“They’re changing the flags,” I say, as I see them going down.
“About time, I swear the watch on the Intrepid must be half asleep if it took them that long to confirm receipt.”
“Just two green flags.”
“Ahh. Semaphore message,” he grunted, reaching for the telescope. “Here,” he passed me a token. “Can you go and tell the Bosun that Fleet’s is sending a semaphore, and we might need to relay it?”
I stowed the token, took one last glance across the silent blue expanse, and started the careful climb back down.