A Hand-y Encounter

It had been a full week since Caspian had found his new vessel, and in that time he had made a full list of supplies needed to restore the Aurora's Crown. In terms of objectives, Caspian had many, first and foremost was to fix his newly acquired ship, which would require a trip to the mainland for supplies. Second was to find a way to try and somehow keep his promise to Nathaniel Blumme. Third was to get stronger and try to unlock the secrets of his system and how he came to possess it.

"If I want to go on land, then I may need to put the ship on the back burner for now and focus on hunting and leveling up." The little merrow boy said, speaking out loud to try and obtain a concrete plan of action.

With that, Caspian began a journey to reach level 5.

.......

Meanwhile, in a small canoe about 170 nautical miles from our brave protagonist, sat a peculiar young man. He was tall, almost too tall to fit his limbs into his small vessel. His hair was a mix of sun bleached blonde and a dark brunette that fell to his shoulders. While tall, the young man was quite chiseled, with every stroke of his ore, his back muscles would contract and tighten, showing off years of muscle memory engraved onto his body.

Also in his canoe sat a sack filled with wild red belly snapper fish. It was a good haul that could feed a family of four for a week, or fetch about 3 gold coins at the market in Holsford village. The young man smiled, knowing that his hours of hard work was about to pay off, but he also knew that it was all in vain if he didn't get out of the area fast.

As if on cue, A giant ship appeared in the distance. It was what looked to be a merchant vessel, although it was extremely run down, the hull looking to be held on by a few extremely driven nails. On the masts of the ship hung multiple flags with a crudely drawn symbol portraying what resembled a face with horns coming from its mouth and down its chin. The young man in the canoe knew all too well the danger that posed him if he were unlucky enough to be caught by the inhabitants of the newly arrived party.

As the ship gained on the lone canoe man, the occupants started to look out over the water and make their intentions clear by yelling over to the man that they were inevitably going to catch up with him. The chase was long and hard for the canoe man, seemingly endless in fact. Nevertheless, eventually, the mainland approached as he paddled his ore with every last ounce of strength he possessed. Only 100 more yards and he would be free, as the inhabitants of the pursuing ship weren't allowed on the encroaching land. 90 yards

80..

70..

60..

"Not long now, just a little father and I can shake this asshole." The canoe man mumbled under his breath between strokes.

'THUNK' 'THUNK' 'THUNK'

The canoe man looked back in horror as three large hooks had just latched on to the back of his tiny vessel. He tried to pull them free of the wood but it was no use as he was already too exhausted from paddling to pull them free. Abandoning the boat was also not an option as he would just drown in he hopped out in his state. Slowly, his boat began to get pulled towards the giant looming ship while the man could only watch it get larger and larger the closer he became.

Once the canoe man and his loot were dragged aboard, he was met with a group of twenty-five or so large humanoid creatures. Each of them were a combination of brown and green skinned, with a scaly, reptilian exterior. Their faces didn't do them much justice either as they resembled pigs with wide noses and beady eyes, although there was the addition of large tusks coming down from their mouths.

"F**king orcs." The man muttered as he slowly climbed to his feet.

"Dirt my boy, you're not out here trying to steal the catchings from my waters are you my boy?" the leader of the orcs asked with a wide disgusting grin on his face.

"The name is Dirk and no I'm not stealing anything, I would've paid you back after selling these at the market after I jacked up the prices. That's how it's always been Mr. Bartman." Dirk explained, trying to talk his way out of the mess he was in.

Mr. Bartman took out a cigar from his oversized jeans and lit it, placing it in his dingy mouth and inhaling deeply. After a few minutes of contemplating, a wicked smile appeared on the orc's face. He put out his cigar on the arm of the orc standing closest to him. The subordinate orc made no movements to indicate that he was in pain, apparently this sort of thing was common enough that the crew were conditioned to Mr. Bartman and his cruel methods. Mr. Bartman lumbered his way towards Dirk as he signaled two of his subordinates to grab Dirk. Mr. Bartman took a small dagger from a sheath on his waist and in one swift movement, Dirk was staring at his left hand laying on the splintered wood at his feet.

"There, that should pay for the harm you've done to my waters today, If I ever catch you within spitting distance of my waters again, it will be your head rolling on the deck." Mr. Bartman scowled as he got close and whispered his threat into Dirk's ear.

Dirk was enraged, his hands were the tools of his trade, without one of them his life would become a sorry existence. He was released from the grip of the other orcs and turned to leave.

"I believe we've come to an understanding then Dirt?" Mr. Bartman called after Dirk before letting loose a deep belly laugh.

"Yeah, I believe we have Mr. Fartman, hehe." Dirk said with a light chuckle.

Unfortunately, that wasn't what Mr. Bartman wanted to hear. The smile disappeared from his face and his eyes filled with anger as he marched after Dirk. Mr. Bartman yanked Dirk up by his shirt collar and with his free hand, punched Dirk right in the stomach taking the wind from his lungs.

"I was going to be generous and let you carry on with your pitiful existence, but you had to push me didn't you? Alright boys listen up, you've all got the day off, because today we welcome our newest deck hand. Don't be afraid to make a mess, I'm sure he will do a good job." Mr. Bartman declared and threw Dirk across the deck into some buckets that housed mops and brooms. With one final look at Dirk, Mr. Bartman turned and began walking away before pausing.

"Oh and find something useful to replace that useless hand of his." Mr. Bartman said to nobody in particular, but all of the other orcs began to grin as they walked over to Dirk, grabbed him, and dragged him down to a lower portion of the ship.