Perfectly Safe Demons -Ch 111- Wavering Waterline

This week a ship is filled with at least two kinds of things, and both are important to the guards.

A wholesome* story about a mostly sane demonologist trying his best to usher in a post-scarcity utopia using imps. It's a great read if you like optimism, progress, character growth, hard magic, and advancements that have a real impact on the world. I spend a ton of time getting the details right, focusing on grounding the story so that the more fantastic bits shine. A new chapter every Thursday.

*Some conditions apply, viewer cynicism is advised.

Map of Pine Bluff

Map of Hyruxia

Map of the Factory and grounds

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Chapter One

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“But do you have to go?” she asked. “It’s so far!”

Ros nodded while he chewed. “Yep! Orders straight from the Chief! It’s not forever, I’ll be back in the fall. Unless we gotta stay the winter.”

“Maybe! The seas are dangerous! Ships sink every year, and that tub you’re going on is one of the least impressive that have come! Why can’t you take one of the municipal navy ships?” Taritha asked.

“I dunno, that’s way above my head, but if that was the decision, I bet people that know the reasons thought it best.” He shrugged, chasing the sweet syrup around his saucer with his finger, then licking it. “It’s a secret, but there’s also treasures aboard. We’ll be safe. We gotta!”

“I know, and I know you have to follow orders. I just wish they’d send someone else,” she said with a sigh.

“They are! There’s eight of us; mostly we're from Jagged Cove, so it’s going to be a good time. I’ll stay in a fancy inn, I’ll eat at all the places I couldn’t. Maybe I could help out some of the people that helped me! I’ve got lots of coin now.”

They sat a spell in silence. Some imps came and cleared their empty table.

Ros smiled gently. “I gotta go, Thanks for seeing me off.” 

She nodded.

He got up, “I’m not worried, it’s a pretty simple mission, and I probably won’t even get in one fight. But weird things happen around Rikad, so I don’t really know. The only thing I’ll miss is the Midsummer Tourney, that was a great party last year and this year I bet it’ll be ten times bigger!”

“The only thing you’ll miss?” she asked with an arched eyebrow.

“We should be back in time for the Harvest Festi–Oh. The only event I’ll miss. I’ll miss you, and the Mage. And Professor Toe-Pounce. Maybe the food, I don’t know if they eat better or worse on the mainland. Well if RICH people have better food.”

She hugged him. 

He was startled then hugged her back. He rubbed her shoulders, “I’ll be back in no time.”

“I know. I’ll make double sure our teams at the design bureau make faster ships, so this doesn’t take as long ever again.” She ended the hug and looked him in the eyes. “And to secure a long term naval advantage for the town too, I guess.”

“Both can be true!” he pointed out. He grabbed his rucksack and walked to the port. 

She watched him leave, and softly said, “Be safe.”

Ros nodded and waved. 

Of course I’ll be safe, I’m the one that would be hurt, if I got hurt!

She’s so nice to me, coming all the way down to see me off! 

He was more excited than scared though. He liked traveling for work, it felt like just the sort of thing a serious Man with a real Job would do. That’s really what he’d always wanted to be and do. That he could see his old haunts with fresh eyes, help the Mage’s long term plans and spend time with his favorite people was all just honey on the bun.

He was in his normal clothes, long voyages like this were strange places to be a guard. The good news was basically every threat you could see coming hours away, so there wasn’t much point in wearing armour all the time. Plus steel plate was risky protection on heaving seas.

The port was, as always, a hive of activity. Golems loading and unloading, heavy wagons creaking on the docks, and so many people going every direction.

Ros slipped through them like a breeze. Not getting in people’s way was second nature to him, and he kind of liked how no one paid attention to him when he wasn’t in armour. It was a different flavour of invisibility from being a faceless steel statue, more personal and alive.

The dock in front of the Wily Wailing Whale was as busy as any. Chests of arms and armour were being craned into the hold. They might not wear it on the journey, but their best and newest gear was going to be available to them in Jagged Cove.

A cluster of other plainclothes Mageguard milled around, joking and chatting. Jourgun, Eowin and Theros were the ones he knew best, but some of the new guys too.

He tossed his rucksack on the pile, just a few days change of clothes and a spare blanket. “Hey fellas! Did I miss anything?” 

“Nah, well the gripping blow by blow of Eowin’s wife finding out about his new girlfriend!” Jourgun said with a grin.

“Dammit, she’s NOT my girlfriend! She just shaves my head! She works as a barber!”

“No one argued that money wasn’t changing hands!” Jourgun retorted.

Ros laughed, he didn’t really get it, but he could tell that it made Eowin blush.

“Why do you shave so often now? You used to have really nice hair!” Ros commented.

“Umm, because, ah. Because it makes me a faster fighter! Smoother; with no deadweight! I’m leaner’n any of you slackers!”

That made sense, he was one of the best on the whole squad. Since he’d gotten his arm bones etched with the strength totems, so had everyone else by now. Other than a small window when he was nearly unbeatable, everyone being about twice as strong meant that the old hierarchy of who could beat who was mostly preserved. Ros had crept up a few rankings. Being the lightest guy in the Mageguard, he was the fastest, and sometimes that speed was enough.

“Hah, I heard you got a love potion from the brothel, and it made your hair and your pecker fall off!” his brother Theros speculated.

Jourgun shook his head, “Well, if his pecker fell off, why would he have a half dozen girlfriends all over town for his wife to find? Not to hear him talk about trees!”

“Hey! Ladies love hearing about trees, we live IN a forest if you didn’t notice,” Eowin retorted. “And I’m the most faithful man this town has ever seen! Any town has! What are we even waiting for? I thought sailors loved being on time?”

They shrugged and looked around. There wasn’t much they could do, but being guardsmen they were all well accustomed to not setting the schedule. 

The obvious part was obvious though, there were still a few wagons of wares to be loaded. Thankfully that was someone else’s problem, and the sailors and golems seemed to have it well in hand. Ros watched them work for a while.

“Do you think the city will be different? We’ve been gone a long time!” Ros asked.

“Pah, I don’t reckon it changed a bit since my grandda’s time, I think we’re okay,” Jourgun said confidently.

“Oh, maybe though! Pine Bluff changed a lot!” Ros countered.

“You reckon there’s a difference between the two places?” Eowin teased, struggling to keep a straight face.

Ros tried to explain his thoughts, but Eowin turned and pointed. “There’s your reason right there! Fall in, Mage on deck!”

The Mage’s procession was uncommonly grand. He normally was a bit of a minimalist as far as entourages, but this time he had a dozen fully armoured Mageguard, led by the chief himself. Over the winter some trapper gifted him a magnificent wolfhide cloak, and it made him look like a warrior king, draped off his broad armoured shoulders. No one could mistake the Chief any more. 

The Mage and his men led a procession of steel framed carts, each pulled by a golem. Pine Bluff was a town thick with strange things, but this was enough to make most people stop and gawk.

“What the salty tide is this now?” muttered the famous Sea Captain Geon as he ran down the gangplank to meet the Mage. 

“Milord! You honour me with your presence! I hadn’t expected to see you today.”

“It’s mostly my fault! I have too many things on the go at once, and seem to blunder a dozen times a day! I’m afraid I’ve come to ask a whole new set of favours of you!”

“Oh? I live to serve, milord,” Geon said slowly, his tone and words not quite aligning. 

“I truly will make it up to you someday! I swear! So remember I told you I was sending about a few tons of silver with you? For my taxes?”

Geon nodded slowly. It was an incomprehensible sum. Even Ros remembered the exact figure.

“Well that was not at all right, I was just remembering my figures from textiles and garments, and forgetting about the steel mill and everything else! Thankfully Aethlina is in charge of accounts! Anyways it’s not two million glindi I owe in taxes, it's forty-five million! Off by nearly a cargo hold of coin!”

Geon blinked. “Uh, yeah. I’ll have to store the stuff I was going to sell, but that’s uh, yeah. Totally fine,” he said slowly.

“Good man! I see why you are so respected! I have one more tiny favor to ask. It’s a last minute change, but my Director of Operations, Aethlina, has a lot of business in the capital. Would you have room for another passenger? And a few dozen crates of her, uh, business?”

He gestured at nothing in particular. “Ah. Yeah, sure. Still ain’t luxury, she’s the same old cog as ever.”

“Grand!” the Mage said with a grin. “I know this affects your ability to do business and I very much appreciate the sacrifice! Send me an invoice for whatever you feel is fair. Without boring you with details, there's a lot riding on this voyage!”

“I live to serve,” Geon muttered. He looked a little overwhelmed. Ros assumed it was from so many honours at once.

Ros watched all the interesting things get loaded. He’d never seen so many steel chests, all filled with gold or silver. 

Eowin pointed to the water line. “Enough money to push her down a hand’s breadth! And we’re just handing it over?”

Stanisk scoffed, “The whole damn Legion exists to make sure money gets to the treasury. This is the cheap option.”

Next were small crates with the inky hulls logo, and a few dozen cask-sized cans with a picture of a chicken on them. Soon they were squared away, loaded up and aboard. From the deck they waved at the Mage and entourage. The guards would want to stay until they were under sail, but that the Mage and the chief oversaw it all really drove home how important their mission was. 

Unlike their journey to Pine Bluff more than a year ago, this was far more spartan. They shared the crew quarters with the sailors, a cramped space of hammocks made all the more cramped with all the heavy chests of armour. Ros hung his hammock, dropped his rucksack under it and went above deck. They were still in sight of the town.

It was very different. For no good reason he’d expected it to look the same, with low thatched cottages and mildewy warehouses, but of course it was all different. Smooth perfect stone rose, unblemished by age or the elements. Towers abounded, both defensive and otherwise. The Stone Spire Sanctuary was by far the biggest, but further inland he could even see parts of the Academy. The tallest bits were unfinished, but looked grand. 

“Shame about the Tourney, we shoulda stayed another two days,” Jourgun said glumly. 

“Oh right, you’re a half lord too. Like Rikad! There won’t be anyone but the chief and the Count for the Field of Champions this year!” Ros said agreeably.

“Hah, I forgot about that. Aye, maybe they'll make me a baron of something soon. Not sure I'd want it though, seems like a heap of bullshit, and I like my job.”

They watched Rikad and Aethlina argue about something at the bow, the furthest away part of the ship, and what passed for privacy.

“Do you reckon she’s demanding the good cabin?” Jourgun asked.

“Nah, she one time said she doesn’t need sleep. I bet they’re arguing about who’s in charge? She seems more senior, but the Mage said this was his mission. Maybe they are just planning our dinner? I saw canned chicken get loaded,” Ros countered. 

The Whale was a sturdy ship, but a slow one. They sailed at a walking pace and were unlikely to get much faster. Captain Geon stood at the back deck, shouting boat words at the sailors. Ros had no idea what they were related to, but it sounded very authentic.

“Mageguard! Gather up! All of you!” Rikad said. He was dressed in the finery as befit a lord, which he was now. 

The few that had been scattered formed up in neat double rows in front of their temporary commander. 

“At ease!” the baron ordered. “The company has seen fit to put you under my command for the duration of this mission, and I expect you to listen to me as if I were the Mage himself. However,” he paused and looked pained, “the Director of Operations has decided to accompany us personally. I want you to listen to her as well, ONLY if it in no way interferes with my orders. Is that clear?”

Strange, but clear. 

“Aye!” they shouted in unison.

“Good! The deck is too small to safely do drills, so find a way to fill your days. Captain Geon! How many days of idleness will they need to endure?”

“Winds are brisk, and the magic rope loop lets me pick my heading, so a week? Maybe a tenday. If’n the seas allow.”

“Thank you, if you’d like, we’ll set up a rotation and cover watches. Let our magical helms buy us time on whatever comes over the horizon.”

“I’d appreciate it, a load off my plate. I don’t reckon I ever had shipboard marines before. Thank ye.”

“Good! I’ll see about getting us all a spot in town to stay with a bit of space and comfort, not like we lack money!” he shouted. “Jourgun, get your helm and go to the bow, the first watch is yours. Dismissed.”

“Aye!

Everyone else left, and Ros went to the railing alone.

They were still in sight of the town, and the winds were gentle. He frowned.

This might be a very long trip. 

It’s more fun if I’m being helpful. And that’s the best way to learn new things. That’s how I learned Dorfish. And so much about them!

A cloud of sadness flitted over him that being the Dorf liaison didn’t really matter much anymore. They had their routines and he had his, and it had been weeks since anything had required his attention. Still he should go and eat a few meals a week with them, they were all so nice. 

But now I can make new sailor friends!

He approached the men on the deck. Two sailors held the bottom part of the mast, and two more held the enchanted rope loop at what looked to be a pretty specific angle. It must be tiring to hold anything up high that long, even with the sticks. 

“Hey fellas, need help? Anything I can do?”

“Nah, this is pretty complicated work, ain’t for land folk. Go sharpen yer swords or sommmit,” one replied without even looking at him.

“No, I’m pretty strong! I could–”

“Go pump bilgewater, new kid,” a brawnier one said with contempt.

“Oh. Okay! Thanks!” Ros left them to their work. 

Where is the bilge? How does one pump it?

His confusion was short lived, the Captain would know!

“Excuse me, Captain Geon? Do you have a moment?” Ros asked. He wasn’t sure how to address a captain on his own ship, it seemed like he was the most important person.

“Sure, what’s on yer mind? Problems?”

“I was talking to one of your guys, and he told me to pump bilge water, and–”

Geon held out his hands, “No, don’t take it personally, they’re all denser than the mast, and don’t know how to address elite–”

“It’s alright, I just don’t know where the bilge is. Like the bottom maybe?” Ros clarified.

“Oh. No, he wasn’t giving an order, not that the lout can. He was being a bit, uh sailorly. He just meant find meanin' elsewhere,” Geon said placatingly.

“I get it, there isn’t even such a thing as a bilge!”

“There is. But–”

“It can’t be pumped?” Ros offered helpfully.

“No, it’s a job that needs done, near everyday. It’s just the shittiest job on the ship. The sea herself slithers between every plank and seam. We caulk and seal, but every ship leaks. A man needs to pump it out, or we sit lower and lower in the water and go slower. Or sink eventually. It ain’t for you. Forget he said anything. Can I offer you a chilled drink from my own–”

“I’d be super good at pumping I bet!” Ros said.

“The pumpin’s hard, it’s working a beam that weighs as much as a goat but that ain’t why it sucks. It's an afternoon waist deep in a stew of slime, fishguts and rat shit. It’s a punishment detail, or drawn by lots the rare day I ain’t got anyone that needs punishing.” He glared at the men on the deck.

“Can I try? I bet I’d be good at it!”

“Truly? I’ll not say no to a hand, but that ain’t called for.”

“Can I wear my armour? Are there rules about wearing steel at sea?” Ros asked.

“Not at all! Wear what you please. It’s not even any more dangerous!” Geon said. He locked the wheel in place and led the young man below decks.

“Really? I thought swimming would be–”

“A stone’s throw from shore, there ain’t anything to swim to. If anyone fell off right now, we couldn’t turn upwind to get 'em and they’d drown before they swum to shore. Proper sailors don’t even waste time learning to swim, no point!”

“Oh.” 

Ros put on his entire suit of MK II Mageplate, and was led into the cargo hold. Geon opened up a small hatch, and slick wet stairs led deeper yet.

“There you are, lad. You don’t gotta, but there’s a big lever and you just lift it up and down until the waters are gone.” He frowned apologetically. 

“Easy!” Ros exclaimed, and charged down. He couldn’t see well in the dim hold, but the light amplification mode helped. A bloated dead rat bumped against his ribs as he waded in. The armour kept him dry and the rebreather pack made every breath smell like mint and lavender. 

He found the worn beam, wrapped in rotting cloth and pushed it down.

It was hard to move, and he had poor footing; the bottom of the ship was curved and very slimy. Even in steel boots it took a few tries to get it to cycle once. He was rewarded with a gurgle of flowing water.

“Hey! I got one!” he exclaimed. He found a better stance and the next one was even easier. 

“Good work, I’ll leave the hatch open, don’t worry about leaving when you want. Thank you for helping, and even the best of my crew can’t handle more than a few minutes before they are either throwing up or exhausted. Or both.”

“Okay! I’ll be fine, this is easy now!” Ros shouted to the captain's fading footsteps.

He was getting the hang of it.

Creak-Clunk-Creak-Gurgle

Over and over, he had to limit his enthusiasm as the beam started to bend a bit, but he was making real progress. Plus he was saving someone from an unpopular chore. 

His boot slipped on something soft and he staggered, the beam jolting out of its socket hard enough to clang loudly off his shoulder. For a moment he imagined falling face-first into the black water and not being able to get up again in full plate. His shoulder ached like he’d been hit by a mace.

Mind the slimy bits! Maybe we can have a rope or a handle put in? He adjusted his footing as the ship swayed.

Creak-Clunk-Creak-Gurgle

The other guys are gonna be so jealous when they see how busy I am! What a great start to the trip, so useful!

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