When Micheal was a young lad, he had always loved watching the Colosseums, the fights, the tournaments. He loved seeing the displays of impressive physical skill by the [Gladiators]. But, he’d always been warned that [Gladiators] live difficult lives and that most do not live long. When he’d asked [Gladiators] about him becoming one, each and every one told him to avoid the job and that it wouldn’t be worth it.

  It was only when he’d watched an experts tournament and saw a [Dragoon] rip through a Basilisk's neck with just a leap, that is when his choice had been made. Without his parents permission, he’d signed a contract with Gladius. By the contract, he will serve them until he becomes an [Expert], and in exchange they will house, train, and offer him opportunities to level.

  It was, in hindsight, a mistake. After years of being a [Gladiator], Micheal realized that he cared not for the tournament or even being a [Gladiator]. What he cares truly for is the skill of combat. Something he could have obtained by becoming a [Mercenary], [Soldier], or even a [Guard]. This way, a contract wouldn’t have bound him. Regardless, he’d signed the deal and thus accepts that he will be a [Gladiator] for most, if not his entire life.

  Well, that was the plan until his contract was given away to Boriss.

  With both Agris and Baldric in tow, Micheal enters the Timbergrove. Not as guests this time, but as crew for the ship. Agris looks nervous about the whole ordeal, while Baldric has a slight grin. As for himself, he doesn’t mind so long as he levels.

  On entering the ship, Boriss directs them to the Messhall, where a larger table now sits. This table now seats most of the crew, with the [Captain] himself sitting on the table, right next to a map.

  “Welcome, take a seat. I believe proper introductions are in order.” The cat extends a paw. “Just leave your stuff on the floor. Boriss will take you to where you will be staying later.”

  The three former [Gladiators] comply.

  Once all three are seated, the cat clears its throat.

  “Alright, first and foremost, I am Quasi Eludo, [Captain] of this vessel. I am the highest authority here and my orders supersede all others.” The cat points a paw at a woman who looks like she should be the [Captain]. “Irmgard here is my [First Mate]. She is the second highest authority and is in charge of everything I’m too lazy to deal with.”

  “Which is most things,” the short plump man comments.

  The cat pouts, “And that would be Cillian. He’s the ship's drunkard and [Quartermaster]. Please do not try to have a drinking contest against him. You’d lose.

  The cat shifts its paw. “Boriss is my [Security Chief]. He will be your direct superior. You’ll all be given the [Gunners] job for the time being since my ship is too small to support actual [Ship Guards].

  “You just need to create a Guard Barracks,” the oldest looking man complains.

  Quasi sighs. “Myers, I’m not going to do a bunch of internal construction again. Also, we don’t have the time. We have to leave as soon as possible.” The cat returns its focus to the there. “By the way, that's Myers and the kid next to him is Clay. They aren't part of the crew, though Myers does all the [Navigator] duties. But I digress.”

  A paw raises to a female Gemma. “This is Emma. She is the [Chief Carpenter] and [Rune Smith] of the ship. Every rune you see is made by her.”

  Emma waves nervously while Quasi shifts his paw again.

  “Next we have Nepenthes, the ships [Chief Physician]. So long as you’re not dead, I’m pretty sure she can fix you up.”

  Nepenthes nods. “I have consumed numerous human corpses. My knowledge on human anatomy is adequate for both external and internal surgical procedures.”

  The three men share a nervous glance.

  “Right, um, moving on. Next we have Auranta, the ships [Mage] and current [Boatswain]. She’s- actually, Auranta, mind removing your mask.”

  Auranta does exactly that, causing all three to gasp.

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  “As you can see, she is an Insectoid,” Quasi explains.

  “I hope my presence does not bother you,” Auranta says.

  Micheal shrugs after a moment. “Honestly, not too much. We’ve fought captured rabid Insectoids before, so it’s nice to deal with one that isn’t trying to kill us.”

  “Now, lastly, we have-”

  The door to the Timbergrove screeches open, followed by footsteps, a crash, a groan, and then Gino rushes in, out of breath.

  “And that would be Gino, another new member of the team. He’s going to also be a [Gunner] like you all.“

  “Sorry I’m late.” Gino groans to an empty seat. “I was looking to say goodbye to my sister, but I couldn’t find her. So I had to leave a message.”

  Quasi chuckles. “I imagine you wouldn’t be able to find her.”

  Gino frowns nervously. The kids' thoughts immediately shift to the worst possible option. “What do you mean? What happened to my sister?”

  Quasi continues chuckling. “Julia, come here for a moment!” Quasi yells. Not a second later and Gino’s sister rushes out of the kitchen with a ladle in hand.

  “[Captain], the food is not ready yet,” She pouts.

  “W-what is this?” Gino stutters, eyes widening at his sister who only gives him a slight glance.

  Quasi chuckles. “Julia is the final new member of the crew. She is the [Head Chef.” Quasi explains.

  “May I return to work?” Julia asks.

  “Yes you can.”

  Without showing any acknowledgement, Julia turns and rushes back into the kitchen.

  “What? Why is my sister here?”

  Quasi chuckles. “It’s your fault, actually.”

  “How?” Gino asks, dumbstruck.

  “Well,” Quasi flicks his tail mischievously. “You told her the original price that she was going to be sold off for. I lowered that price significantly, but apparently me doing so has placed a several hundred thousand debt in Julia’s eyes. So now she’s working off that debt for me as the ships [Head Chef].”

  “T-thats- no. I-ughhh. Fuck me.”

  Chuckles emanate from manny at the table as Gino grabs the sides of his head.

  “Is fine,” Boriss grins, “Now you care for sister on ship, yes?”

  Quasi snorts and shakes his head. “Alright, introductions are over. Time to plan our next moves. Myers, what's our next destination?” Quasi asks.

  The old man gets up and shifts the map more towards the middle of the table so everyone can see.

  “The next tower is a decent bit closer to the center, at a large wolven town off the coast of a Major Slipstream.”

  “Wolven?” Quasi asks.

  Myers nods. “Yes. The town is controlled by the empire, so the presence of other species is going to be very rare.”

  “They don’t like others?”

  “No, though they do like trade. We can visit, but opening up a business or owning property there is outlawed unless you’re Wolven.”

  Quasi shrugs. “Well, it’s a good thing we only need to visit. How long will it take to get there?”

  “A couple weeks at most.”

  “Perfect.” Quasi grins. “We depart early tomorrow.” His eyes move to Emma. “Any luck on repairing my gauntlet?” He asks.

  Emma blinks, confused. “What gauntlet?”

  “I put it on your work-table.”

  “I didn’t see it. The only thing on my worktable is a piece of melted metal someone left me.”

  Quasi blushes. “Ughhh, yea, that would be it.”

  Emmas eyes bulge. “How did you-”

  “-Look, it's fine if you can’t repair it.” Quasi interrupts nervously. “I’ll make do with just the left gauntlet.”

  Emma rubs her temples. She’d leveled a lot, gained even a nice skill too. But there are limits to what she can do, and those limits stop far from creating miracles.

  Quasi looks away from the distraught [Runesmith] to stop on Auranta. “So, I’ve got a decent grasp on Ignis. Do you have any other spells you can teach me?”

  _____________________________________________________

  Jonathan rubs his chin while he leans on his chair with legs resting on the table. The man is relaxed and carries a slight curve of the lips. “And you’re sure that Vulturan doesn’t have this armband the Royals are so interested in?”

  “I’ve heard nothing about an armband or anything that would have those uptight shits wanting to possess.” Faelisa says while lounging on the couch earlier than usual.

  “I see. That’s good. Very good.”

  The [Druid] frowns. “How so? It sounds like the Vultures are going to be gutted by the Royals if they find this armband in their possession. Isn’t that better?”

  “No,” Jonathan shakes his head, “Much of the unrest that would surface in the undercrust is suppressed by the combined capability of the minor gangs. If they find the Armband, Vulturan will be executed and another will take his place.” The [Gang Leader] of the Flamingos tilts his head to Faelisa, “If that happens, then I lose a great source of information. It’s much better for us if they find nothing in the long term.”

  “So why’d that Quasi guy tell you about the armband?”

  “Honestly, I have three guesses. The first is that Vulturan unknowingly has this armband- unlikely that that is. The second is that Gino recently joined Quasi and the cat is enacting vengeance for his crewman.”

  “I can see that pretty clearly. Cats can be very vengeful,” Faelisa agrees. As a self taught [Druid] who can change to a cat, she’d had to learn the hard way to suppress both physical and mental urges of her form. Especially the mental ones. Vengeance and violence are things the feline species know far too well.

  “My third and most likely reason is that Quasi is in possession of the Armband.”

  Faelisa perks up. “You think he has it?”

  “I do.” Jonathan nods. “Telling me that Vulturan obtained such an item so that I sell such information to the Royals is clearly to create a distraction long enough for Quasi to escape.”

  The [Druid] shits again on the couch with her feet dangling in the air. “Are you going to tell the Royals about this?”

  Jonathan shrugs. “Maybe in a couple days.”

  Faelisa chuckles, “They’ll escape by then.”

  “True, but they won’t escape the bounty.”

  “Huh. I’d thought you’d choose to let such information die down.”

  Jonathan leans back in his chair. “I just don’t like being manipulated.”