"Captain, I need time to consider your offer," Marcellus said, the words weighing heavy on his tongue. It wasn't often that someone deliberated over a chance to gain superpowers, but Marcellus believed caution was necessary.
...well he had other reasons too.
Captain Crowe looked him over with eyes that resembled uncharted waters—deep and full of secrets.
"Very well. But you have only a week. I trust you to understand the rarity of what I'm offering. Such opportunities don't remain on the table for long."
Marcellus nodded, relieved yet encumbered by the time constraint. "A week it is, then. But I have one condition."
Crowe raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Go on."
"If your employer reaches out with their offer within the week, I promise to inform you before making any decisions, but you have to protect me if I choose your offer."
A momentary smile passed over Crowe's lips.
"A fair request, Blackeyed. Very well, you have yourself a deal. But while we're making promises and setting deadlines, there's another matter I'd like to discuss."
Marcellus leaned back, already suspecting that another intricate puzzle was about to unfold. "I'm listening."
"The Wereshark you slayed last week during our skirmish," Crowe began, his voice tinged with a measure of admiration. "I've heard talk among the crew, tales of how you slew men on The Hulk too. I must say, it's an impressive feat."
"Aye, it was a perilous battle," Marcellus admitted, recalling the slashing jaws, the reek of brine and blood, and the sheer terror that gripped him even as he drove his blade into the creature's heart. "But we both know such creatures are best left dead."
"True," Crowe nodded. "However, the carcass could still prove useful. I'd like to buy it from you. Name your price."
The request caught Marcellus off guard. "You wish to buy the dead Wereshark? May I ask why?"
Crowe leaned with an enigmatic gleam in his eyes. "Have you heard of charms, Blackeye?"
Marcellus frowned, trying to recall. "Vaguely. They're said to be talismans made from rare creatures, imbued with mystical properties."
here with the superstitions again, bloody pirates!
"Exactly," Crowe affirmed. "They can protect a ship from storms, ward off enemy, and bring good fortune. A wereshark's body parts—its teeth, scales, and even its blood—are powerful components for such charms. If harvested and crafted properly, they can fetch a high price, or serve us well should we choose to use them."
Marcellus considered the offer, his mind churning like a whirlpool. The potential benefits of such charms were enticing, but it was also yet another web of complexity, another layer in the enigma that was Captain Crowe. He wondered just how many layers there were to uncover.
He did not need charms, he even did not know how to make them.
"Alright, Captain. You've got yourself a deal. I'll sell you the Wereshark's carcass,"
Marcellus finally said, breaking the silence. "But I hope you'll understand if I wish to observe the crafting of these charms. My curiosity has been piqued."
Crowe grinned, his eyes twinkling like stars on a moonless night. "Ah, the quest for knowledge—a trait I've always admired. You may certainly observe, and who knows? Perhaps you'll learn a thing or two about the arcane yourself."
Both men sat up, shaking hands to seal their multiple agreements.
"Now, let's discuss payment," Crowe said, snapping Marcellus back to reality. "As I said, these parts are valuable. I would usually pay five silver for a Wereshark's corpse, but I'm willing to offer you more, given our agreement."
Marcellus weighed his options. This was his chance to tip the scales in his favour, even if only slightly. An idea began to form in his mind.
"Captain, I need more than five silver," Marcellus said cautiously, trying to read Crowe's expression. "I ask for thirty silver. The experience was jarring, and I did slay the beast after all."
Captain Crowe burst into laughter. "thirty silver? Even if it's your first Wereshark, you should know its corpse is usually worth about five silver. You're pricing it as if it were a sea lion!"
The atmosphere became charged; the tension was palpable. Marcellus felt like he was walking a fine line, but he had to maintain his stance.
"I understand your reasoning, Captain," Marcellus replied, choosing his words carefully. "But consider this: it's not just about the creature's parts but the skill required to obtain them. You saw the battle; you know the risks I took. That should be worth something."
Crowe pondered, his eyes narrowing as if calculating an unspoken equation. Finally, he spoke. "You drive a hard bargain, Blackeye. I'll give you thirty silver, and not a coin more."
Marcellus considered the offer. Fifty silver was a substantial amount, and it seemed that he'd nudged Captain Crowe out of his initial valuation. It was a compromise, but a beneficial one nonetheless.
"Very well, Captain. thirty silver it is."
Both men shook hands once more, sealing their agreement. As Marcellus left the cabin, his pockets heavier and his knowledge slightly expanded, he realized how much he had yet to learn. The world was vast and full of mysteries, and he was merely scratching the surface.
He felt like he was walking on a tightrope strung between two cliffs. Below lay the churning waters of uncertainty and risk, but ahead was the promise of untold power and secrets, just within reach.
Actual powers!
He had a week—one week to make choices that would shape his destiny. And with every tick of the ship's old brass clock, the future rushed toward him like an incoming tide, unstoppable and full of mysterious depths.
...
Quartermaster Dobbs was the first to step into the cabin, wiping his brow with a cloth as he closed the door behind him. His eyes quickly scanned the room before settling on Captain Crowe, who was pouring himself another glass of rum.
"Ah, there you are," Crowe greeted, gesturing to the empty seats. "Sit, sit. We have much to discuss."
Dobbs took a seat, followed by Tommy Bones and Hawkins. The atmosphere was thick with tension.
"So, I see you've been entertaining our young Blackeye," Dobbs began, setting the tone with his rich voice.
"He seemed quite lost in thought when he left your cabin. Anything we should be concerned about?"
Captain Crowe took a sip of his rum and sighed. "Blackeye is at a crossroads lads, I hope we don't have to kill him, at least for now. I've extended an offer to him—an offer of great significance."