“AO From an NPC’s Perspective” is essentially a mirrored perspective of “AO Essentially” stories that have yet to write.
This’ll likely be a two-part story.
I looked out the barred entrance of the Silverhold prison doors, the pale light from the hallway illuminating my cell. Marines patrolled around outside, checking on all the prisoners currently locked up. Other than the sound of them walking by, it was eerily silent. I had seen this sight before, and I knew this time would be my last. I had been sentenced to death by the Grand Navy. After being caught at Wind-Row Island by a small group of bounty hunters, I had been taken to prison and given the news. And now, as I tapped my foot against the hard stone floor, I knew it was only a few hours before I’d die.
Sometimes I wished I had never become a criminal, but after the first arrest, there wasn’t really an option to go back. I was once a merchant, sailing around on a tiny sailboat with an inexperienced captain who had agreed to help me. We made cargo deliveries from island to island, and I even managed to sell random items I had found in the wilderness, including weapons and amulets. My wares were lacking, but the cargo had our funding covered.
Over time, as our sailing experience and money piled up, we managed to buy a caravel, and then a ketch. We reinforced the armor of that, and soon we were sailing around the bronze sea without a worry. That was, until, that fateful day when we encountered some pirates.
I remember that hellish scene all too well. This wasn’t the first time we had encountered pirate ships, however. In fact, we had dealt with quite a few, but none were as dangerous as this one. It was a fortified ketch from the look of it, armed with arcanium cannons. We knew cannons like that were highly dangerous against ships, so we attempted to maneuver to the nearest shore, disembark, and hope that all we’d lose is our cargo and the ship would just be damaged.
The reality was much worse. Palo Town, the closest place with inhabitants, was still hundreds, if not thousands, of meters away. And the pirates, outspeeding us just by a bit, had begun to fire, hitting the ship several times. Some of the sailors tried to fire back, but as a merchant ship, our cannons were poor and barely even hit them. A cannonball flew over the deck, splashing into the ocean only a couple of meters away. The situation was dire, and we all knew it.
It wasn’t long before the another cannonball smashed into the side of the ship, followed by several more. The ship slowed to a halt, starting to submerge into the ocean. In our panic, the captain told me to hide somewhere; I was unarmed, unlike the rest of the crew, and if I hid, I’d at least have a chance to survive. And so I did, running below the deck and hiding in a crate. From the cracks in both the crate and the ship, I caught a slight glimpse of what happened.
From the small bits I could see and what I heard, the pirates stopped their ship beside ours. The sound of footsteps over wood rang out from above, and I could catch a brief sound of some talking, perhaps a negotiation. I heard the sounds of crates being moved, the pirates taking whatever we had. And just as I thought it was over, I heard the sounds of magic.
The unseen battle rang out overhead, but even as it did, I already knew that the pirates would win. We were poorly equipped, and even though the captain was a good fighter himself, he could not possibly withstand the attacks of a crew of experienced pirates. I breathed slowly, listing to the sounds of battles they faded. I heard a laugh, then the sounds of sails being lowered. It was over.
I cautiously stepped out of the crate I was in. Pretty much everything was stolen, leaving nothing but a few overturned, empty boxes. I stepped back out onto the deck to see what was left, and the carnage was worse than I would have ever expected. Sailors lay dead across the ship, wounds of stabs or magic covering their body. A third of the ship was covered in spots of blood. And worst of all, the captain too lay dead, leaving just myself. As the ship continued to sink, I grabbed some of the remaining boxes and crates lying around, and tied them with some loose rope. I was sure this makeshift raft wouldn’t last long… But it was all I had.
As the last of my ship sank into the ocean, I stood on the somewhat stable barrels, crates, and wooden planks I had salvaged, waving my hands at passing ships. I barely had any supplies, only a few of the random wares I still had and a couple days’ worth of food and water. Every time I saw a merchant or Navy ship passed by, my hopes were uplifted, and I screamed at the top of my lungs, but nobody heard me. After the fifth day, I felt like I was doomed to die on this tiny raft, be it by pirates, sharks, a tsunami, or simply running out of resources.
The hazy sight of Palo Town in the far distance was all that was left. Harvest Island was a lot closer, and I had a slim chance that I could swim there, but I wasn’t about to risk that unless I was truly out of options. Criminals liked to hide there, and the seas nearby were rough. I wasn’t even sure if I could make it. As the seventh day passed, I had run out of any food and clean water I had. I was about to lose hope. As I woke up on the morning of the eighth day stranded at sea, I saw a person standing on my raft.
Their caravel was stationed right beside me, and as they approached, I saw the opportunity to finally get out of this place.
“Please, let me onto your ship. I’ll die out here…” I begged, hoping this would work. There was a chance this was a pirate, here to plunder what little I had left… Or it could be a savior.
To my surprise, the person nodded, and I walked up the wooden plank they had placed on my raft to board their ship. It was a nice place, and they even had two hired deckhands working on it. I noticed an unusually large amount of treasure, chests sealed by a tight bronze lock, but I wasn’t about to question that. Even if they were a pirate, they had shown me mercy. They dropped me off at Palo Town, and I gave them what little money I had left, along with a random fish I had managed to grab on the raft. I couldn’t cook it, and I didn’t want to eat it raw unless I had to, so I figured I would keep it until I had found some use for it, or until it began to rot.
I waved goodbye to the person, and they sailed away on their caravel, headed somewhere south. Their appearance became engrained in my memory: A neutral wind magic user with green hair and a matching green coat. I believed they also had some knowledge of melee combat based on the large gloves I saw in their pocket. As they sailed off, I sighed, wondering what I should do with my life now that I was safe.
I had nothing left.