Darren was with Captain Montague in the great cabin at the stern of HMS Sea Dagger. Through the windows at the back of the cabin, Isla Cascadura receded, slowly dropping below the horizon. The ship rode the waves, rising and falling with each one as the ship cut its way south.

  “You want me to kill the Countess?” Darren asked, arching an eyebrow.

  Captain Montague snorted a laugh. “Hardly. Death isn’t enough; she will just come back. While she doesn’t have a Ruler class, she’s an Interloper like you, so death holds no sway over her. You’ll need to depose her or conquer Isla Cascadura.”

  Darren rubbed his now lightly bearded chin. Opportunities and challenges. The obvious answer was to gain the last step of his quest by conquering Isla Cascadura. However, doing that at level 5? He’d need a really good exploit to pull that off, and not get smited by Themis again in the process. If she even could given that he was an NPC now? All the questions he should have asked Poseidon when he had the chance…

  The smarter route would be to complete his quest and then take out Rod. Which was what Montague seemed to be expecting, but the man didn’t know all the requirements Darren had to fulfil… He briefly considered adding the man to his party and extending the quest to him, but he didn’t trust him. This could just be a trap to make him easier to work with.

  He had no way to verify that Montague actually had a quest to help him. Sure, he could have Montague add him to a party and share his quest, but that would mean disbanding his own party. There was no way he was going to give up his one way to keep tabs on Wilson.

  “I’ll be frank with you,” Darren said. “I don’t trust you. And you probably don’t trust me. But it seems we need each other, so let’s do it. You help me fulfil my quest, and I’ll help you depose the Countess as you requested.

  “Here’s what I need for my quest: I need to found, claim, or conquer a settlement, lead a party of at least five for a minimum of three days, and finally, foster a deal between two opposing groups, of which I can be one of.” Darren checked his quest. “I have just over six and a half days to complete those and gain a class.

  “In six and a half days, people from my world will arrive en masse. I reckon we depose the Countess before then, too. I don’t know what will happen to her once the Interlopers arrive. I have a hunch that she’ll have her power revoked, and she’ll be returned to a starting location, but I don’t think you want to gamble on that. If I’m wrong, her position will instead be solidified as she gathers players… Interlopers to her cause. Then we’ll be up against an unkillable army.”

  Montague nodded slowly, brow creased in thought. “While, like you, I have a suspicion her power will be stripped, I agree it wouldn’t be wise to gamble the future of my home on that chance. Even if she has her position revoked by the gods at that time, a power vacuum always results in more death as the leeches in politics seek to wriggle their way into that void.”

  Darren wandered up to the table and held his glass out to Montague, who splashed some more whiskey in it. Darren took a sip and studied the map while he thought.

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  “A question comes to mind,” Captain Montague said.

  “Oh yeah?”

  “You’re an Interloper. If your suspicion is correct, and any Interlopers already here will lose their levels and power when your quest time runs out, why are you being offered a class only to lose it? That would say to me that your hunch is wrong.”

  Darren winced. He wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to get into that, but hiding things had created a mess with Samantha, and he wasn’t keen on a repeat. “It’s complicated. But put simply… I’m not an Interloper anymore. I’m an honest-to-goodness Local.”

  “Interesting. That explains several things. At the end of the day, however, it doesn’t change anything—except that we will need to be more careful and not let you get killed.”

  “I’d appreciate not dying again,” Darren said.

  Captain Montague nodded and took another sip of whiskey. “Indeed. Now, do you have plans for completing your tasks yet?”

  “Well, what I’ve discovered so far with my tasks is that there’s a lot of lateral thinking allowed. One task was to overcome an adversary at least 10 levels higher than me. I completed it by convincing a merchant who hated me to let me buy from her. I’m wondering what can be counted as a settlement—could it be an ant nest? A settlement of ants? Or… maybe the cocotribesmen we’re going to raid would be counted? That would actually work quite nicely.”

  “I’m sceptical about the ants, as calling them a settlement would be a stretch. However, the cocotribesmen option sounds viable. You mentioned three tasks.” Captain Montague lifted a hand, raising a finger for each quest. “Leading a party, negotiating a deal, and claiming or conquering a settlement—or founding one.”

  “Yeah,” Darren said. “That actually reminds me. I was going to do some research into what it takes to found a settlement, but I, well, got arrested before I could. Maybe you know?”

  Captain Montague pushed off the table and went to the cabinet containing the drinks. He put the whiskey away, then went to another, crouching, his knees cricking, and opened the doors. Two rows of books sat inside the cabinet. He rifled through the titles before removing one and standing as he thumbed through it.

  “‘Founding a settlement’,” the captain read. “‘To found a settlement, a founder must be the owner of a party of at least 100 people, including at least 10 classed Locals.

  “‘A settlement must be founded on land of at least 5,000 acres (above sea level), or a floating mass with a perimeter covering an area of at least 50 acres.

  “‘When the process to found a settlement begins, the owner of the party must remain in control of it for 24 hours for the founding to be successful. If at any point ownership of the settlement is lost (see section Conquering A Settlement for more details), the timer restarts until the founder is either successful or gives up their claim.’”

  A slow smile lit Darren’s face as a plan began to form. He set his drink on the table just so he could rub his hands. A floating mass? He could make a floating fort? But no, that’d take too long. Darren sighed. “Where’s the nearest uninhabited island over 5,000 acres?

  Montague stuck out his hand near the table and made a few quick gestures. It zoomed out, and kept zooming out, until the ship was a barely visible dot, then several islands highlighted.

  “Um,” Darren said, “just how far away are they?”

  Captain Montague drummed his fingers on the edge of the table as he studied the map. “Closest would be that one”—he pointed—“and that’s about two and a half to three days sailing in good weather.”

  “That doesn’t work then,” Darren said. “Say it takes three days to get there, then a day to found the settlement, and three days to return to Cascadura—that’s seven days. That’s cutting it incredibly fine.”

  “Indeed.”

  “So our choice is sail for days, or try and build a floating fortress/city.”

  “Neither are great options,” Captain Montague said.

  Something flashed on Darren’s HUD, and he focused on it.

  It was Wilson’s health bar in the top left of his vision.

  It had just dropped.