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It turns out that the Might sub-statistics Health and Healing aren’t as closely linked as I had thought. I may have the larger health meter, but I was still healing at normal person rates. And THAT seemed entirely separate from whatever my Omnivore method was doing that allowed me so many miracle recoveries.

Speaking of which, my System didn’t make nutrition on its own. Glad for the safety railing, I made my way down the stairs. It wasn’t exhausting or particularly difficult, and breakfast was ground maize grits with tiny chunks of hashed meat and leftover boiled greens. The whole mix was on the verge of turning.

It turned my stomach. WAIT. My stomach, not my System’s food storage slots? Nope, my food storage slots were empty, all four of them. I took a long drink of the horrid black tea, willing it to go into food storage. Great, that worked. I’d just have to be mindful of that until I found the command to switch my System back to what I expected.

Not being feverish or otherwise sick, I still found my muscles atrophied. Just walking back upstairs to Gamilla’s room was exhausting.

She bade me enter when I knocked, so I did. “I see new faces downstairs.”

“The crew as a whole isn’t getting much larger,” She told me, “and it feels as though we’re getting the dregs of what the islands have to offer. But we’ve a navigator now, at least.”

“And a captain or captaine? Bosun? Quartermaster? Don’t tell me I’m going to have to be the sea-witch.”

“We have a sea-witch, at least.” She said. “Quartermaster quit when I wouldn’t increase his purse for buying supplies, so he took off for Yvettesport with what he could get his hands on.”

.....

“Wait. He stole from us?”

“Yes. Turns out we couldn’t do much about that, he’s part of the crew of the Salty Osprey now. We have a warrant for his arrest, but it’s only valid here in Neo Esteban.”

“Show me.” I said.

She produced a crumpled piece of paper from one of three trunks she had brimming with the things. “Here we are, one warrant for arrest and trial of Matthew Jemson, citizen of Manoria, no known residence.”

“If that is even his real name.”

She sighed. “There’s only six civilized ports; we’ll catch wind of him eventually.”

I slid the paper back to her. “Speaking of thieves, I’m guessing the dragon has our shipment of silks?”

“It’s a financial blow, yes. The trading company has already tightened our belts. We’re letting normal boarders into the inn next door – Kismet’s idea, but it won’t be enough. The storms are building again, it’s only a matter of time before the sea lanes close again.”

“So, it’s going to be a harsh winter.”

“It will, but we’ll survive it. You want to see the financial records?”

I shifted in my chair to take weight off my left leg. “Those can wait until after I’ve bathed. It feels like I’m wearing more grime than clothing right now.”

She nodded. “All right, what can’t wait until after you’ve bathed?”

“An ultimatum.”

“Oh?” she took a sip of coffee.

“If you haven’t filled the crew positions by the end of Thawing week, I’ll start searching for our new crew myself. At higher wages than normal.”

“How much higher?” she asked.

“As little higher as I can manage.” I said. “I’m not going insane, I just don’t want an entire ship ready to sail without a crew to sail it. And as the person with the lowest Charisma in the party, I should NOT be permitted to do this. But if I have to, I will.”

“You won’t have to. She set aside what she had been reading. But I need people. Specifically, I need Kismet and Blacksoul.”

“We don’t send either of them anywhere without guards we can trust.”

“Agreed. We don’t send guards without putting either of them in charge.”

I rubbed a spot behind my left eye that had become irritated for no good reason. “We can’t trust our crew?”

“Not unsupervised. I don’t need to tell you, we have the laziest and most ... salted... of the lot.”

“Ugh. I need a bath, and I’m taking one.”

“And the girls?”

“So long as they are here in Neo Leonen for the winter storms.”

“You mean no, then.”

I blinked. “We have an entire month before winter.”

“Smaller vessels are already docking until after spring.” She said.

“Did I miss any good news?”

“Not much. There’s a new ambassador from Sholwyr hanging out at Vernice. He’s about as successful as you’ve been, for different reasons.”

“After. Bath.” I said.

“Thank you, ambassador.”

#

My bath was interrupted. Not by some brute with a knife, but by a small child. I’d been told her name, but couldn’t recall it. She arrived with soap, fresh clothes (powder room blue in color), and a request.

“Mother wants to know what she should be shopping for dinner.”

“What do we have in storage?”

“Well, nothing, sir. That’s why we’ve been shopping.”

“What comes daily?”

“Maize, flour, eggs, butter, fish, sometimes vegetables.”

I blinked. “So, the crew have been living on bread and fish stew?”

“For two weeks now, sir. We’ve gotten complaints about it, but mother says there’s not enough coin for more.”

Dang it! I didn’t need to deal with gunk between my toes AND this at the same time. “Tell her I’ll help prepare the stew tonight, but I need to speak with Gamilla before we change the menu.”

“As you would, sir.”

The scar kept me from using my right hand on my back, so I did what I could with my left. I didn’t feel much cleaner, but while I was drying myself I noticed the condition of my bath water. Bucket by bucket, that went into the courtyard behind the inn.

Issue by issue, I surveyed my problems. The local governors didn’t want us here. Sholwyr, either my boss or not, depending on whom you asked, had sent a replacement. Half my time was gone, and I still didn’t have a firm claim to an island for us to colonize. Even if we had that right, there might not be enough citizens at home to send. There was currently no dock for them to depart from, and our fledgling nation owned no ship capable of transporting them. Our finances, I hoped, were not as bad as Gamilla was telling me, because the loan currently funding us had the Sea Sprite’s Outrage, our only vessel, as collateral. Said vessel was going nowhere without repairs or a full crew. We were down to about a third of the crew we needed, and entirely lacked officers.

Oh, and one of our former officers had stolen from us.

With the loss of our cargo, we could consider ourselves at war with the dragon, one of the powers of the Isles. The kraken-spawn, or rather the Cult of the Octopus, was attacking us at every opportunity. We couldn’t visit the Manorans because my wife was literally a devil working against one of their religious icons. We were exiled by both the Malosians of Yvettesport and the Norvik of Lavin Buscala. Our diplomatic hosts, the nation of Furdia, was hosting my rival. The Neonen of Neo Esteban were, at best, neutral. And the Daurians were isolated on their prison island.

At least the natives found us less onerous than the nations they considered invaders. I may have only briefly held the title of Unapongo... Actually, I needed to visit Pongo in the spirit realm, and soon.

Physically, mentally, spiritually, I was a mess. I needed to get back to performing my regimens. If I had the hours to do them in. I had commitments to country, to company, to a mix of deities...

At least I wasn’t currently on quest. Thank the gods for that.

[Anshur ibn Efrit, Seventeenth Clerk in charge of Athal Clergy for the great lord Sobek, has assigned you a quest!]

[Quest summary...]

Okay, and NOW I was on a quest, too. No, to be fair, I should have been on a quest already. That didn’t really count as a surprise.

By the time I’d toweled out the murky depths of my bath, the sun was a third or so toward its peak. Best to get myself caught up on finances, then. Love may keep the heavens turning, but it doesn’t pay the taxes.

Ugh. What WERE we paying in taxes? Whom were we paying taxes to? If we owed taxes to the Neonen, then I needed to set up an appointment with...

I had no clue who to set up the appointment with. I sure hoped Gamilla had more of a clue than I did.

I crushed my feet into boots that were a size too small to hold them comfortably. Actually, all of this clothing was just a tad tight.

One more thing to deal with. Focus. Focus. I needed to talk finances to Gamilla.