So, this fucking minigame. We pick up with Champo inside the mostly empty storage building, his already odd posture crouched into Mouser Mode. My job is to sneak him up behind the mice, catch them, and toss them in the convenient nearby cage. He has 99 seconds to catch three mice, but if Champo accidentally dashes into a wall–and he will, repeatedly–he gives himself brain damage and can’t move for a couple seconds. And time is of the essence, as Champo explains, “The other mice will come rescue the mice we’ve already caught, so be careful. The other mice will break the cage! Also, when we get lots of mice in the cage, they’ll try to break it from the inside, so keep your eye on it.” Could we maybe try buying a cage that isn’t a pointless piece of garbage? Just brainstorming. Also, while I’m being a bitch about this anyway, why does Champo need to catch a certain number of mice? Shouldn’t he simply target the one mouse struggling with the weight of a giant fucking hunk of precious metal? And if the mice don’t have the fucking thing, why not just find it and leave? I am giving myself a headache.
There is something not right about that tail.
I am sure it will surprise no one that this simple game winds up being an incredible pain in the ass purely by virtue of its clunkiness and poor execution. Half the time Champo is right on the ass of a mouse, only for nothing to happen when I press the button to capture it. And at least one mouse breaks out of the dollar store cage in the time it takes Champo to recover from smacking his head into a wine barrel. Regardless, with a scant 12 seconds left on the clock, Champo grabs the third mouse and does a sad victory dance. After he’s calmed down, he looks inside the cage, and with the mice he spies the Golden Seal, just sitting there like one of those mice pulled it out of its TARDIS-like asshole. Like, seriously, if one of them was carrying that on its back and Champo didn’t see it until now, I don’t even know what to say. And if these mice are so fucking clever and good at escaping, how is he going to get it out of the cage without them stealing it again? Since they are obviously Wizard Mice.
OH COME ON
Back outside, Nalkul and Champo say they’ll go on ahead to the ship, making me think I’ve avoided any further ado with these two. Nope! I’m not that lucky today. Once Marvy and Chiepoo have blinked back to the ship, we cut back to these feline dopes, staring at the ship from the harbor. “Say, Nalkul…” Champo asks. “Was it okay that we didn’t invite anyone else along?” Is he suggesting that they should have brought the entire village of fucking cat people on board without asking Marvy? Is he trying to make me turn the game off? Nalkul replies, “They’ve all got their own lives. We’re about the only ones here who won’t be missed.” I would think that’s sad, but it’s probably accurate. Even by Nay-kobold standards, these two are the fucking worst. I swear they’re only Stars of Destiny to make Chiepoo look better by comparison. To my point, Nalkul thinks they’ll “beat up the Kooluk” (haha, no) and be super-famous when they return in triumph. “We gotta become like Mr. Chiepoo!” he adds. Again, an incredibly sad life goal, and yet probably the only one in his reach. Champo comments that Chiepoo doesn’t exactly seem like a heroic world traveler, only for Nalkul to just stan the fuck out for his new god. “You really are such an idiot,” he says. “Truly great men don’t give off an aura of being great!” Champo is way impressed by this. I…I don’t know, guys. I don’t think I can live on a planet where this scene is a real thing that happened. Better go walk into the ocean with my iron helmet on.
Unfortunately, unlike Marvy, I would have to board a plane to get near enough to water that could drown me, so I guess I’m riding this out. Marvy really needs to unwind a little after that disastrous string of recruits, and he’d rather bathe in a warm tropical locale than in the dank sub-sub-sub-deck of his ship, so he teleports to Mordo Island for a little hot tub R&R. But wouldn’t you know it–he can’t even take a fucking bath without stumbling over people who want to live off his largesse. In this case, quite literally: a woman with a messy updo named Lo Fong, invisible onscreen but somehow still present, says to Marvy, “Greetings! Welcome to the Seaward Hot Springs!” Ohoho, really. Another bath attendant, a hot, dark-skinned blond named Lo Hak, tells Marvy to make himself comfortable. A black screen later, Marvy and his ladies have been coaxed out of their clothes and ushered into their separate baths, Marvy after repeated insistence he just couldn’t get this zipper unstuck without another pair of strong hands, wink. Lo Fong offers to wash someone’s back–I assume Jeanne’s, as anyone with eyeballs would–and everybody has a nice, relaxing time.
‘Home of the gusher.’
Once they’re toweled off and dressed, Lo Hak asks, “Sirs, how is the temperature of the water? Can’t you just feel your strength welling up from inside you?” Marvy can feel something welling up, all right. Perhaps sensing that this is the exact right time to catch her prey flat-footed with all his blood in the wrong head, Lo Fong demands 10,000 potch for their services. Tch! I don’t think so, lady. Marvy could have gotten two hummers from Lo Hak and he wouldn’t be paying that. But speaking of hummers he wishes he’d gotten, when he balks at the fee, a third sibling, named Lo Seng, shows up. As the oldest and definitely hottest of the three, he probably thinks he can get this young man to part with his potch. “After all,” he purrs, “it is a blessed hot spring that even the leader of the great Seaward patronizes…” Lo Fong even adds, “Considering all the services it included, you could even say it’s a real bargain.” Whoa. Did Marvy get three blowjobs? Nice. But he still ain’t paying, because paying lets these three go on their way, and doesn’t end with Lo Hak and Lo Seng rubbing him with baby oil on the rear deck.
Marvy’s refusal to pay for services rendered (sploosh) leads to the battle screen, with Marvy and his cadre of ladies against all three siblings. This isn’t a hard fight, especially since their, ahem, rejuvenating soak in the hot springs healed everybody to full. Marvy directs his troops to focus the siblings down one at a time, just to make things easier, but also to get Lo Fong out of the way immediately and allow him to waggle his hips suggestively at his foes without her being around to get the wrong idea. They’re toast after five or so turns of taking Kika and Mitsuba’s swords in their faces, which has to be confusing. Marvy even loots 15,000 potch from their spent bodies, which they no doubt extorted from the last mark to stroll through here wanting a hot bath and a handy. (Slowe, obviously.)
This ignominious defeat is the last straw for Lo Fong. “Oh, I’m sick of this exhausting work!” she yells. “Even my clothes are all worn out…I quit! I want to work for him instead!” I am probably underestimating how hard it is to run a bathhouse, so I will not mock her for this attitude. Lo Hak, though, is clearly perceptive and notes, “There’s no way this guy’s gonna let you!” Yeah, not without her hot brothers, anyway. Girl’s gotta pay the toll. Marvy can ask them to join, or tell them, “We’ll work you to death in the Seaward!” Heeeeee. He chooses the first option, though he does intend to work the boys very hard. Of course, all three of them are shocked that the real leader of the Seaward is here, actually justifying their spring’s fraudulent claim to fame, and Marvy’s Q rating is enough to get them to enthusiastically sign their papers. Nice. It does make me wonder if I’m in for another Tenkai Star doppelganger, who’s using his terrible haircut, ropy calf muscles, and a candy bar shaped like the Golden Seal to get free shit all over the Island Nations, including here. As the siblings leave, Lo Fong wonders if they’ve “forgotten about someone,” but whoever that may be, it doesn’t bother her enough to think about it for more than two seconds. As long as it’s not a third sexy brother!
As it happens, Lo Fong will not have to wait long to figure out who they left behind. Marvy blinks back to the ship and immediately returns to Mordo, where there is now a man pacing around outside the baths. He doesn’t seem to be related to the other three, since he is named Igor, and not Lo Igor or something, and he’s also a fug. Igor has a pinched, unhappy expression, probably stemming from his terrible haircut, weak chin, and Milhouse van Houten tiny eyeballs/huge glasses combo. He looks like Kyle’s cousin Kyle. Anyway, Igor asks without preamble if Marvy is here to spirit him away on his ship, and less than a second later Igor is on the crew. “Actually, I’m the owner of this hot spring,” he adds, “but it’s okay. Business is slow anyway.” Proooooobably because all his attendants cut bait? But this leads me to wonder what Igor and his former employees are going to do on the Rudderless. Marvy already has a bath guy. And as much as he would love to fire poor unattractive Taisuke and put the Lo siblings in charge, then he has to figure out what to do with him. Not that everybody on this ship has a job (oh my lord, no), and Marvy will figure out something for Lo Hak and Lo Seng to do (sploosh again), but he just recruited four more people whose specialty is something he already had covered. Good going, dipshit!
On that note, we are temporarily done recruiting! Yeah, Marvy got three hot dudes out of it, but at what cost? AT WHAT COST. He heads from Viki’s station directly to the war room, to see if Elenor has a plan of attack for today that doesn’t involve recruiting her old friends Johnnie Walker, Jack Daniels, and Jim Beam. As it happens, she does. “As I mentioned earlier,” she says, “we must form alliances with the other islands before waging war against Kooluk. Besides Obel, there are two other large islands in the area: Razril, which was forsaken by Gaien, and Middleport.” There’s also Nay and Na-Nal, but I forgive Elenor for ignoring those two shitholes. As Keneth goes “Razril…” like a sad doofus, Elenor goes on that Kooluk-occupied Razril will have to wait until they bolster their numbers a bit, leaving Middleport as the obvious target. “If they become our allies, it’ll be easier to get help from the other islands,” she says. Ramada takes that to mean they will be able to bully smaller islands into going along with them. “Yeah, that’s right,” she says. “You catch on quick.” One part of that statement is true! Elenor asks Marvy if he’s fine with all this, and he can either say yes or moan, like Keneth, “Razril… To be a Knight again…” Why the fuck would he want to be a knight again? Cat people and creepy pee pirates and Katarina aside, returning to his old life on Razril would still be a major downgrade unless he gets to run the place. But for some stupid-ass reason, I select that option. Well done, me! Elenor, bless her, doesn’t care: “We can’t be worrying about the Knights at a time like this. First, we have to settle things with Kooluk.” With that–and Ramada casually mentioning a “sea monster” in the Middleport area, nudge–the meeting is adjourned.
The sea monster bit is, of course, important, mainly because it requires something of a specific party and, thus, a bit of leveling. After taking his handpicked party of Sigurd, Jeanne, and Viki on a sailing tour of Iluya to grind out some levels, Marvy teleports to his old haunt the deserted island, the easiest place from which to sail to Middleport. Incredibly, the entire journey, endless random battles included, only takes about six minutes. Slowly but surely, I’m learning to steer this ungainly motherfucker. Marvy returns to his room to save before coasting the final few yards into the Middleport harbor.
On the deck, Chiepoo is stretching, groaning, and yawning–having just woken up from one of his 18 daily naps–when he spots something in the water. A large, scaly something, with four long hentai tentacles. I would be lying if I said my first impression was anything other than a smaller Sin. As the monster emerges from the water to stare with unblinking eyes at this tiny cat morsel, Chiepoo shrieks, “Th-Th-The island’s moving!” and runs for it. I would chide Chiepoo for being a giant baby, but I don’t need Nalkul telling me that all great men hide under beds until they’re swatted out with a broom.
‘Excuse me, sir, do you have a moment to talk about our lord and savior Jesus Christ?’
Since Chiepoo didn’t do shit except scream and flee, and Sin Lite is ripping up the deck with his tentacles, Marvy and his party have to take care of business. So, the reason for this particular party is that, like Sin, there’s no way to hit Sin Lite at this distance, making melee attackers about as useful here as nipples on a batsuit. Hell, if I could dump Marvy for this battle I would, since his Making a Murderer Rune is not the most helpful thing to have at the moment. (Or ever.) I see now that I very foolishly equipped Water Runes to everyone in this party except for Jeanne, who has both a Fire Rune and a Lightning Rune for no fucking reason. Nice! Really well-balanced party organization by yours truly. Better still, the monster puts a random person to sleep each turn, so if it’s Jeanne, I can say goodbye to doing any damage until she’s awake again. Awesome. As a result, the short version of this boss fight is that everybody stays nice and alive, but it takes roughly five months for the son of a bitch and all his tentacles to die. When he finally goes down, Marvy and crew obtain some levels, an Ocean Rune Piece (a normal drop that buffs the ship), and…silk. What was a sea monster doing with this? We’ll see.
Back in the war room, Elenor has Marvy pick a land party, into which Ramada immediately invites himself. “In the past, I have made deals with the high-ranking officials here.” So specific! And didn’t he make those deals as part of Cray Trading Company? Wouldn’t bringing him along send exactly the wrong message? Whatever. At least he’s in the convoy and not fugging up my battle team. Sigurd, meanwhile, tries to get out that he would rather not go on this excursion, with Dario interrupting him to ask if he’s got an ex on Middleport and Nalleo asking what an “ex” is, like she’s four and not 17. “Dario, you are such a…” Hervey says. “Anyway, that kind of talk isn’t appropriate for your [daughter].” Okay, everyone is being such a pearl-clutcher about this that I have to assume I am missing out on some additional body language thanks to game designer laziness. Like, Dario is pantomiming motorboating a prostitute, or “playfully” tugging at Sig’s crotch. Once his friends shut the hell up for a second, Sigurd explains, “I have long forsaken Middleport. My presence may not help the situation, but my absence will be harmful.” Wait, what? Is that what he really means to say? I am so confused. Either way, his toned ass is staying in the party. Hervey and Kika round things out. If he does have an ex in Middleport, I just want it to be as awkward as possible when he runs into them.
As Marvy and Ramada step foot on the dock, a slight young man runs up to them in a panic. Well, he looks less like a person and more like someone’s boardwalk caricature of what their Yorkshire terrier would look like as a person. He has morose, beady eyes and his black hair is tied back in a red ribbon. Also, he’s yapping at Marvy. “Y-You!” he cries. “You killed Little Daisy, didn’t you?! Ooohh!!” Ramada and I say at the same time, “Little Daisy?” The yorkie yaps, “She’s the lord’s precious pet! Oooohh… This is terrible… This is terrible… I-If the Master hears of this…” So I’m assuming that the silk Marvy pulled from Little Daisy’s corpse was also a red ribbon in her, uh, tentacles. Maybe she was just out there for her weekly grooming!
Unfortunately for the yorkie, his master, or one of them, chooses this moment to appear. “I heard, Micky,” he says. Yup, that is a dog name. The game has anticipated my needs. But forget Micky, because his master is way more interesting. In a series full of insanely dressed dandies, the long name-dropped Schtolteheim Reinbach III somehow outshines them all: his imperious face is surrounded by blond curls (which may or may not be a wig), topped with an absolutely ridiculous fur-lined purple-and-teal musketeer hat festooned with gold ribbon and golden feathers. The color scheme continues down-body, with a gold-and-purple striped blouse, puffy teal sleeves, and even puffier silky teal bloomers over gold leggings. Is there lace detailing throughout? There is! Are there flowing butt ribbons? Sure are! To top it all off, in his portrait he is, of course, holding a red rose up to his face, about to bite at its stem sensually. He’s like the bishounen version of Prince George in Blackadder the Third. Micky begs his “Young Master” to keep Little Daisy’s grisly murder secret from his father. Schtolty is not nearly as upset about her demise, though, and says to Marvy, bowing extravagantly, “Allow me to thank you for ridding us of that foul monstrosity. It belonged to my father, but it was just so hideous…” Of course. That is really the concern here.
‘Thanks, Gayer Captain Planet.’
Schtolty takes it from their massive fucking ship and their ability to murder equally massive sea monsters that they’re not “tourists” and have business here with his father, who it turns out is the Lord of Middleport. “Well,” Schtolty says when Marvy requests an audience, “you went to the trouble of defeating that creature just to come here, so it must be important…” Yeah, about that. Middleport is, like, a port, right? That depends on maritime trade? And the Lord of Middleport is not only allowing, but encouraging his unholy kraken-manatee hybrid pet to destroy any ships that come close? Why do we want this dude in our alliance, exactly? Schtolty ignores me and promises to speak to his father on their behalf, and also to “smooth things over” for Micky re: Little Daisy. I’m not sure why Micky would be in trouble–what was he going to do, swim out there and be Little Daisy’s human shield? But he is grateful to Young Master nonetheless, if he really means it. “Have you forgotten?” Schtolty asks archly. “I do not lie.” Unlike his servants, who tell him every morning he doesn’t even need face powder as they spackle it on.
Nope, I’m not that lucky.
But Schtolty and Micky, who join the entourage, will have to be patient, because Marvy’s got some business to take care of in town. His first stop is a secluded corner next to the trading post, and not because he needs Sigurd and Hervey to attend to his needs. Hanging out here is an old man with sunken features whose male-pattern baldness has somehow left him with a billowy tuft of hair in the middle of his forehead. And he’s chosen to comb it forward rather than over, which is a bold choice. Sigurd pulls out of Marvy’s butt for this meeting, so we know why he decided to make a big hairy deal out of whether he, of dozens of assholes on the ship, should or should not come on this mission. Grandpa Combforward, named Keen, says to Sig, “You’d better not have forgotten this face.” Sig indeed has not forgotten him, leading Keen to ask if he’s “prepared.” This feels like code to me, and Sig does not help by replying, “Sorry. I can’t just say, ‘Here you go,’ and give you my head.” Oh my. I mean, I’m sure they’re not talking about Sig being Keen’s former bottom bitch, and I’m just reading too much into it, as usual. “You betrayed your former employer and your brethren,” Keen goes on. “Accept your punishment without a struggle.” Son of a bitch.
This game is fucking trolling me. Sig tells Keen he’s just going to have to wait to take his pound(ing) of flesh, since he’s got super important Seaward shit to do. “Err… Very well, then,” Keen agrees. “But keep in mind… Your head is mine.” He knows! Marvy can attest that he certainly isn’t giving it up to HIM. Though Keen may not be too happy about Hervey sampling the product.
Oddly, the scene just ends here. Very logically, Marvy returns to the ship, dumps Sigurd with Desmond, and returns to the harbor. Sadly, since Middleport is not yet on Viki’s destinations menu, this means Marvy has to depart with the Rudderless, whip it around 180 degrees, and steer it two inches back into port again. I shouldn’t have to explain by now that this is more painful than it sounds. Anyway, Keen is standing where Marvy left him, and he barely acknowledges that they talked two minutes ago. “Looking for help?” he asks. “I can join you…for a mere 10000 Potch.” I guess since Sigurd left his service, he’s had to expand his own role a bit. Marvy itches to pass on this not-at-all enticing offer, especially when he promises he won’t kill anybody while he’s on Marvy’s cock clock, and that he only wants to keep an eye on “him.” Okay, first of all, if Marvy needs someone killed, it’s getting done, with no backtalk. It’s in Leknaat’s terms of service contract. Second, if he wants to keep tabs on Sigurd, he can go ahead and do that without Marvy’s fucking money. But as usual Marvy and I are all talk, because he forks over the 10,000 potch like the slave to the good ending he is.
Worse, it turns out Keen fancies himself some kind of priest. (I think I’ve made my opinion clear on which kind.) Marvy discovers him on deck four, in the newly dubbed “Confession Room.” Oh, some shit is going to go down in here, I fear. Marvy can’t actually interact with him on the other side of the “confession booth,” which is really just a fucking white sheet pinned up as a makeshift wall, and on the other side of it, Keen tells him, “With so many people here, I will not be able to judge to my heart’s content… When you come next time, you should come alone…” Oh, Marvy does. At least four times a day.