Captain Arnold Runner steps into his quarters, still rattled from the blockade breaking and the hard run through the Bay of Bones. Salt, smoke, and singed oak hang in the air.
The Quartermaster follows him in quietly, closes the door, and lays a handful of marked coins on the desk. They catch the lamplight like tiny warning eyes.
The Quartermaster leans over the coins, grave and certain. These are not ordinary plunder, he says, they are tokens stamped with the seal of the Masked Observer's true masters.
The Quartermaster
I know that mark. These coins are not cargo payment. They are counting pieces, meant to track where the hold goes next.
He taps one coin with a claw, and the stamped seal seems suddenly less decorative and more deliberate. The implication lands hard, like a cannon shot heard after the fact.
The Quartermaster
The Masked Observer was not just buying cargo, Captain. They were watching it for someone else.
A thin draft stirs the charts on the desk. The coins lie between them, quiet as a ledger, waiting for Arnold's next order.
✓ Quest Accepted
Deal with the coins' true masters
“"Is it just me or does this sound like exactly the sort of trap Funbain would set? Last I checked, The Fun Police and The Grizzly Bones weren't at war... yet. Odd that he would initiate a blockade right when we were in port, where he had the least reason to expect us or any other threat, but hasn't caught up to us at all before the marked coins. Then again I hate that guy so much your head might be the clearer one regarding him."”
SUCCESS (Good Reasoning, rolled -1)
Captain Arnold Runner
Is it just me, or does this sound like a trap Funbain would set? The timing is too neat.
The Quartermaster
It has his smell, Captain. Not proof, but enough to make a man keep his cutlass close.
Captain Arnold Runner
Last I checked, The Fun Police and The Grizzly Bones were not at war... yet. He would have little reason to block us in port unless he expected something specific.
The Quartermaster
Or unless he knew someone else would come sniffing after these coins. That is the part I do not like.
Captain Arnold Runner
If Funbain is tied to this, then the coins are bait, or a marker.
The Quartermaster
You dislike the man enough to see his shadow everywhere, Captain, but this time your temper is doing you a favor. Look at the stamp, then at the port list. Somebody wants a trail.
The Quartermaster
And if you want my honest head for it, I think the marked coins point to a buyer, not a payment.
“"If I ever get my hands on that Seeing Eye, dog of a captain, that 'masked observer,' I'm going to have him flogged, and quartered, and- wait, the Seeing Eyes are weird, they're probably into that." A twisted grin crosses his face "I know, I'll ruin the magic by removing his mask in front of his crew!"”
SUCCESS (Great Willpower, rolled -2)
Captain Arnold Runner
Then let us spoil his little mystery. In front of his own crew.
Captain Arnold Runner takes the marked coin from the Quartermaster and turns it under the lamp. The stamp catches the light, and the tiny seal on its face matches the port list in the ledger.
The Quartermaster
That is the trick of it, Captain. It is not payment, it is a tag. Whoever minted these wants every hand that touches them to be counted.
The Quartermaster
If the Masked Observer wears a mask to hide from his own people, stripping it away would shame him harder than a blade.
Captain Arnold Runner reaches across the desk, snatches the contract case shut, and smiles thinly at the reflected brass of the lamp. The smoke haze thins as the coin is set back beside the others, now looking less like loot and more like a trail.
The Quartermaster
A buyer leaves marks. A master leaves instructions. This one leaves both.
The Quartermaster slides the ledger closer and taps a fresh line beside the coin tally. The room stays quiet, but the meaning of the cargo has changed, and the next choice hangs over the desk like a drawn cutlass.
“Arnold settles, sits down, and rests his chin on his paws, deep in thought. "That's a thought. I can think of three factions off the top of my head that would want to trace trade routes: The War Pigs to better match their prices to the market, The Seeing Eyes to study who's dealing with who, and the Hurters would do it simply for fun."”
SUCCESS (Good Reasoning, rolled +0)
Captain Arnold Runner
That's a thought. I can think of three factions off the top of my head that would want to trace trade routes: The War Pigs to better match their prices to the market, The Seeing Eyes to study who's dealing with who, and the Hurters would do it simply for fun.
Captain Arnold Runner eases down into the chair, the desk creaking under his weight. He props his chin on both paws, eyes on the ledger line as if the ink might answer back.
The Quartermaster
A fair spread of suspects. The War Pigs love a ledger when it fattens their ledgers, and the Seeing Eyes never miss a pattern if they can help it.
The Quartermaster
But the Hurters... yes, they would track a route just to see who gets nervous.
The Quartermaster taps the fresh line once, then lets the quill rest. The lamp throws a dull shine across the marked coins, and their little stamps sit there like patient witnesses.
The Quartermaster
That means the true master is not just a buyer, Captain. It is someone building a map of hands, ports, and habits.
He shifts the ledger a finger's width closer, leaving the question plain in the quiet room. The profit still lies on the desk, but now it looks like it has a shadow of its own.
“"I actually don't think the Hurters would care who gets nervous, those brainiacs count and organize simply to keep themselves occupied. Speaking of the Hurters... maybe that's how we solve this. We change course to The Hurting Heartland. We pick up crew there, and pay them entirely in marked coins. If their faces light up like a Christmas tree, we let them have their fun and don't worry about it. If they ignore the marked coins, or they get suspicious of us, we switch out all the coins and setup an ambush for Funbain. He likes to setup his press gangs early in the morning to maximize daylight, but he sails alone. We hire the Hurters to help, and we take him and the whole crew alive. If that doesn't happen, it's likely the Seeing Eyes or War Pigs."”
SUCCESS (Superb Agility, rolled -3)
Captain Arnold Runner
The Hurters count and organize for the pleasure of it, yes. So we use that habit. We sail for Hurting Heartland, pay in marked coins, and see who reaches for them first.
Captain Arnold Runner straightens in the chair and drags the ledger closer. The Quartermaster goes still, listening as the plan turns from theory into a route.
The Quartermaster
A clean test. If they study the coins, we learn who among them reads a trail. If they pass them by, then the marks point elsewhere.
The Quartermaster
And if Funbain is waiting in the wings, Hurter hands can help net him before he gets his morning wind.
He taps the fresh line beside the tally, not as a warning now, but as a reminder that the paper has become a weapon.
The Quartermaster
I like a scheme that lets the coin talk before the cannon does. It saves wear on the crew, and it tells us who truly owns the purse.
The room settles into a thoughtful quiet, lamp smoke thinning above the desk while the marked coins glint like bait.
“Arnold steps outside his quarters "Navigator! Pilot! Change course to the Hurting Heartland."”
SUCCESS (Superb Agility, rolled -1)