Anne Ashford, esteemed champion of naps and the sacred art of doing absolutely nothing, was now officially a woman betrayed.
First, her parents had the audacity to kick her out of their cozy island paradise. Second, they had given her a rat. A rat of all things. Not gold, not a legendary map, not even a decent bottle of rum, just a cage of whiskers and attitude.
And now, as she glared at the freshly bleeding bite mark on her finger, her world decided to really lose its mind.
She blinked. And then blinked again. System words appeared in her mind as floating glowing lights which seemed impossible to exist.
"Oh, no. No, no, no. I did not sign up for this."
The rat wiggled its nose.
"Oh, you definitely did." It said.
Anne screamed while losing control and almost capsized the boat. "YOU TALK?!"
The rat stared at her with a dry expression which seemed to indicate that it had accepted its role in the universe as a joke from the start. "And you, apparently, can think. So we're both making discoveries today."
Anne took a deep breath. "Okay. Right. I'm not freaking out. I'm totally calm. No big deal." She paused. "Wait, huge deal! Why are you talking?! And why do I have a system?! Those are for people who actually do things!"
The rat stretched. "Stop crying, it is the ship system and not yours, you are not special. Now row, Captain Slacker."
She squinted at him. "What do you mean, ship system? And row? Certainly, you don't expect me to pull out a magic ghost ship from my butt so we can start our big adventure?"
The rat tilted its head. "Look behind you."
Anne turned, and promptly choked on her own spit.
"Oh, sink me!"
Did a ship really come out from her ass?
Where there had been only endless ocean moments ago, there now floated a ship. Her ship, apparently. It was definitely not the dinky rowboat she had started with. This was something… old. It looked weathered and abandoned. The vessel had survived many years as indicated by its faded wood and cracked surface and its worn dark sails which shone with silver threads that made it look like a ghost ship. The ship's hull seemed strong but displayed ancient symbols that were fading away from the surface and remained unrecognizable to her.
Anne squinted at the sails. "Is that… duct tape?"
The rat coughed. "No, that's enchanted repair bindings. Very advanced. Don't disrespect the process."
Anne sighed, long and slow. "Right. So I'm bound to a talking rat and a half-broken ghost ship. Great. Perfect. Love that for me."
['The Wayfinder's Code is now active! Begin your journey, expand your knowledge, and map the unknown!]
[Warning: Assign crew roles carefully. Once a bond is formed, breaking it has consequences.]
Anne groaned. "This thing won't stop? Everyone is trying to make me work now? My parents, the rat, the boat. Next, the ocean's gonna start crying at me and making me run."
The rat looked alarmingly thoughtful. "Actually…"
Anne threw up a hand. "Nope. Nope. That was a joke. Not dealing with sentient waves today. Let's just get on the ship before I drown in my own sanity."
She let out a heavy breath before taking the oars to row toward her new home which she suspected was cursed while the rat perched on his cage with a smug expression as if he had won a long-running bet against destiny.
She sensed that her days of laziness had permanently ended.
The ship's side groaned as her rowboat touched it before the gangplank extended itself through a creaking motion. Anne took a moment before crossing the threshold onto the ship. The second her foot landed on the deck, the air around her shifted. A strange hum vibrated through the planks, and a pulse of energy crawled up her spine like the ship itself was welcoming her.
[WELCOME ABOARD, CAPTAIN. PLEASE ENJOY YOUR STAY.]
"Oh, wonderful. I've got a haunted house."
The deck stretched before her, wide and surprisingly well-kept despite the whole ancient ship lost to time aesthetic. The sails displayed sturdy patches but appeared to be in good condition. The wheel appeared both aged and trustworthy. And below deck…
Anne paused before descending through the hatch because darkness and mystery surrounded her. Possibly full of ghosts or rogue kitchenware. She lowered herself to the floor to let the rat escape from its confined space. "You first."
The rat snorted. "Coward."
The rat led the way down first and Anne walked behind him. She discovered a captain's quarters which was better than expected. The room contained a durable desk with maps and navigation equipment and a big bed and one coat hanging inside the single wardrobe. The ancient dust on the desk received finger marks from her as she felt a chill run through her body. This was hers now. Her ship. Her home.
Anne walked toward the bed and dropped her satchel onto it, sending a thick cloud of dust into the air. She sneezed so hard her soul nearly left her body. Great. Not only was this ship ancient, but it was also trying to assassinate her with dust.
She turned toward the wardrobe, curiosity taking over her. Was that coat still wearable? She touched it. It felt old but sturdy, probably stolen, definitely not well-kept. It was dark blue and a bit faded from too much sun and too little care. The buttons were mismatched, and it smelled vaguely of salt, rum, and bad decisions. A rat silhouette appeared stitched onto the coat's back using poorly made thread which matched the appearance of the scrappy rat outside. Not exactly a fearsome symbol, but hey, at least rats survive. Not a bad omen.
Letting the coat be for now, she got back to the desk, sitting on the comfy chair. A miracle, really, considering the rest of the ship was one bad gust away from total collapse. She exhaled, pulling a drawer open. Inside, a beautiful well maintained book rested solitary. She grabbed it, immediately feeling a foreign energy run through her body.
"The Wayfinder's Code." She read aloud, letting her fingers play over the golden letters of the title. It felt strange, like it pulsated as if alive. The rat curiously climbed to her right shoulder and perched its red eyes to see it.
The first page of the black book surprised her when she flipped its cover. It showed a blueprint of the entire ship, and as her fingers touched its black ink it floated over, forming a 3D image of the vessel. Quite a beauty.
She didn't linger over it too much, turning to the next page.
"The Wayfinder's Code operates as the internal system of the artifact-bound vessel named Rogue's Embrace. The ship longs for adventure and knowledge. The ship expands together with its crew members while they make discoveries and embark on their adventures."
"A ship is only as strong as the crew that sails her. And this one's powered by sheer stubbornness."
[WAYFINDER'S CODE SYSTEM]
Artifact Name: The Rogue's Embrace
Artifact Owner: Anne Ashford (Bound)
Artifact Grade: ???
Artifact Rank: Sealed
---
Spirit Name: ??
Spirit Abilities: [Keen Whiskers], [Scoundrel's Step], [Stowaway's Luck]
---
[CAPTAIN]
Name: Anne Ashford
Title: ???
Bloodline: ???
Abilities: [Captain's Command], [Storm-Chaser's Pulse], [No Lies on My Ship]
---
[FIRST MATE] ???
[NAVIGATOR] ???
[QUARTERMASTER] ???
[GUNNER] ???
[SHIPWRIGHT] ???
[COOK] ???
After reading the page she paused, her hand caressing the back of her neck. "I can feel a headache. I need to find six crew members?? I already miss my privacy."
The rat twitched its whiskers. "Better get used to it. A ship doesn't sail itself."
Anne turned to the rat. "So you are the spirit of this ship, don't you have a name?"
The rat shrugged. "I was never given one. Not that I remember at least."
"Well, then mate…" She looked at him mischievously. "I dub thee Rat the Rat."
Before Rat could complain, they saw the text on the book shift.
Spirit Name: Rat the Rat.
"Sink me!" He squeaked angrily, he couldn't believe the system had agreed to it.
Anne laughed hard, enjoying the look of dejection on the rat's face. "Come on, Rat. It is fitting for someone like you." It was so hard to try not to laugh more. "By the way, why does this thing exist? Couldn't the system just dump all this into my brain?"
"The System is just able to send some alerts, Slacker." He sighed. "The book holds everything else."
"Got it, Rat." Maybe he thought she would be annoyed at being called slacker, but hell that's who she was proud to be, a pretty little slacker. "Let's see the skills then."
She flipped the pages, eager to learn more.
The abilities were useful and pretty cool, but there was one point that made her lose face…
"Why does this thing want me to move so much? Rotten kelp!" Storm-Chaser's Pulse was a great passive, would help her keep her stamina and balance up in the middle of the ocean and also make her never lose her sense of direction, but, and a big but here, If she lazed too much she would feel really seasick! Why? She was the queen of naps, why?
Achooo!
Anne sneezed, the dust finally winning the battle. "Aye, aye! Let's be off then." Leaving the book by the desk, she got up. "I know the direction of a small port city one day from here. We need supplies and crew mates. I can't slack off if I don't have food or booze." She froze for a second. "I really hope mother packed up some start money for me, or they really just got me an old rat?"
"Oy, can I have a little respect? I'm the spirit of this ship!"
"Aye, aye."
She shook her satchel, praying for the clink of coins, flipping its inside on the bed.
An old bread. A single silver crest. And a note.
Her eyebrow twitched.
She unfolded the note.
"Work for your own damn rum. Love, Mom."
Anne closed her eyes. "I have been cursed."
"Well, at least you can afford a drink. And half a scoundrel if you want company." The rat squeaked smugly.
"Let's set sail before my own ship starts asking me for rent."
The ship creaked ominously.
"...That was a joke." She muttered.
She brought herself up to the deck while the rat rested contentedly on her shoulder. The ocean extended before her with a multitude of opportunities. And, more importantly, full of opportunities to slack off in brand-new ways.
Too bad fate clearly had other plans.