A Really Nice Sword

Skinny dipping in the sea was harder than they thought. Bastian, being a naturally good swimmer, didn't have much troubles with his own performance, even though the water was deep near the harbor area, but he got plenty of opportunities to save a damsel in distress as Sharona was not as adept and needed help when climbing back onto the planks that had been set up for an entirely different purpose.

At least Bastian felt like a true macho gentleman. Which he was, of course, if one did not consider the fact that he had multiple women. That alone would have made him a beast in the normal world. In this one, though, he was just considered luckier. Better. Stronger and more masculine. And all of these women loved him for his wits and resilience, and for his handsomeness and size as well. Life was as good as it could possibly be.

Now he had to find Mahogany while he was still feeling the afterglow. It would be easier to talk about such matters in this state of mind.

The man was smoking his pipe in his shack and finishing up some paperwork. A quick peek revealed that he had written the name of Bastian's ship as the Great Melon. It felt like there was a perverted joke hidden somewhere in that fake name, or it could have been Bastian's dirty mind. In any case, Mahogany seemed amused, and the pirate captain figured that his drunken escapade was obviously written all over his face.

"You have a bit of lipstick on your collar," Mahogany said. "You can borrow my old clothes. Don't worry about returning them, I am not in a hurry."

"I didn't realize she was wearing lipstick," Bastian said, matter-of-factly. He didn't care if women wore makeup or not, unless they looked like clowns.

"So, you are a part of some secret organization that opposes the tyranny of Roy Gorgo," Bastian continued. "Is it an official secret organization?"

"To call it organized would be an insult to all organizations," Mahogany replied and filled Bastian's corn cob pipe with tobacco that seemed to be from a high quality batch. The stuff they were addicted to in this world was so raw, so much better than anything back…home. If Bastian had a home that wasn't the ship he currently captained, that was. He was not entirely convinced that he was from the normal place, the place without fun, magic and harems.

"I see," Captain Bastian Black replied and used a dangerous, old-school match to light his pipe. "We might need to do something about that."

"You need at least two occult books for that," Mahogany sighed. "And I was hoping you'd agree to take on some kind of a suicide mission to kill Captain Gorgo. It's a madman's game, trying to find and possess those books. They are so heavily guarded."

"I take that as a challenge," Bastian said. "If I am going to die, I am taking Gorgo with me in any case, but I think I shall live and prove everyone wrong." Bastian gave the man a nasty glare. "But if you can help me, you are free to do so. On my terms. If you try anything funny…anything at all…you will find out if you are truly as unafraid of death as you think you are."

Mahogany swallowed loudly and looked at him.

"Well, all right then, follow me," the man said. "I have funds and legal protection I can give to you, but if you are actually crazy enough to go on that book quest of yours, you are going to need more than that. Much, much more."

He walked up to a closet that seemed just like any old regular closet, but on closer inspection it opened up to a secret tunnel that led downwards, into a corridor made out of stone and a metal that did not quite seem like regular iron.

He took a lantern, because it was dark down there, and motioned Bastian to come with him.

Bastian only hesitated for a short moment. He climbed down the stairs of stone and kept his sword and his gun ready at all times. They reached the end of the descent and came to a T-shaped junction that emitted a faint, green glow.

Bastian did not know why, but eery as it was, the green color seemed benevolent. He had bad experiences with light blue colors when it came to eerily glowing things, and that was probably the reason why he felt way more comfortable down here than the regular person would have felt.

They walked for a while. The sound of water dripping down from the ceiling was the only thing they could hear.

They arrived at a heavy door that had the most ancient lock on it that Bastian had ever seen. With some trouble, Mahogany opened it with an equally ancient key.

"Here is my secret armory," Mahogany said. "As a friend of smugglers and all sorts of corrupted souls, I have managed to gather a few things that might turn out to be useful. There is only one catch."

They stepped into a room that would have been underwhelming, if not for the bright green sword on a red velvet pillow, seated in the middle of the room.

The sword was saber-styled, like many pirate swords seemed to be, but it was longer and had a sort of a jagged edge. In the handle, though, there was a container of some sort, almost empty, but with a few drops of some green stuff in it.

Bastian frowned.

"Is that transparent container very fragile?" he asked. "It might pose a problem if it is."

"No, not terribly fragile, no," Mahogany replied. "It is the poison vial that fills the edge of the blade with the most horrible stuff imaginable. The sword is compatible with most liquid poisons, but the real good stuff you want to use for it is either basilisk venom or the lightning decay, either in its green form or the purple one. The problem is, you are going to have to go seek out Anasta for the green stuff and it's the only thing available anywhere."

"Who's Anasta?"