"Actually I held both the purse and the buckler because I happened to be the one who picked them up out of the water, for no other reason. And I DID say I thought it would be best to use them to acquire gear for those who had none... but you must have missed either my words or the intent of them in the heat of the moment."
He remains squatting on his haunches, not rising to Flynn's threats of animosity and rage. He shrugs slightly. "I seek no enemies among the shanghaied aboard this vessel. Be calm please. I would be friends if you would." Seijiro squints up at Flynn, his red-amber eyes flicker with unreadable emotion as he watches the larger man impassively, awaiting a response, maybe?
"As for my word, it is of great value to me. I have never broken it, though I have frequently withheld it. I am not doing so now, but I must admit it is more out of necessity of the situation than any great liking for you personally. Perhaps you'll grow on me in time." With that he gives an embarrassed little smile and a shrug, then ducks his head down again with a sigh...
You've said too much again, you dolt... Now he'll hate you for sure. So what if he's got a hot temper and talks too much. He's sure to have good qualities too, if you give yourself time to learn of them. Don't be an ass. Your brother would have charmed him for sure by now. But no, you've got to go antagonizing him further. Dolt! Idiot!!
Very quietly he speaks again. "My apologies, so very sorry. I did not mean to speak so rashly to you. I'm sure we can be friends."
How tall is Horatio Flynn? and what sort of build does he have? based on stats, he's lean and lythe, but lacking in any real heft (marked strength, high dex, but unremarkable con) so he sits comfortably with a less than imposing build but not scrawney and sinewy like Dhaavan, no str, but quick and tough for his size)
WHile Sejiro speaks to Flynn as the three of us are standing aobut before Bloody hour and such, Dhaavan stands behind Flynn, and places his hands on the man's shoulders and eases him back away from the redhead. He is more quiet than Flynn, not whispering, but not easily heard.
Now moving on, Dhaavan says with a cool confidence that defies a youth of his small size, "Now you claim to want to make ammends, or at least be willing to. No be plain and contrite and i'll be inclined to believe you. I get not trusting people right off, but you seem to be looking for conflict. I don't know if it's that fire you been talking about, but learn to check that temper."
I turn a sudden cold eye to Dhaavan’s hand on my shoulder – then hearing his words, the fire in my eyes recedes somewhat, and the dark light seems to lose some of its hot animation.
”Aye – it was as I said; I am overwrought by conditions beyond my ability to disassemble with any ease.”
I look at Jiro, my eyes flat, considering his words.
”I tell you now that I am not myself – it is truth, and I shall not seek to deny it. When first you met me, you saw a man who was contrite and modest in speech – courtesy laced my words and actions, and never forth did anger or hot passion seep.”
I pause, considering something.
”Yet perhaps it is false to say I behave in a manner inconsistent with my heart; perhaps it is now that my true heart is unveiled? In this I cannot say – for I am, at best – a healer of flesh and blood, and know little of the ways to heal mind or spirit.”
”I do not know the cause of this change in my demeanor – yet I shall say plainly to you I do not care for that knowledge. I am the man you see before you, and I shall not apologize for it. Yet – it is just for you to suggest that some courtesy be extended if I have misconstrued your actions so.”
”And by your words, it seems as if that were the case. For though you held the gear, it seemed better to my thinking that it would be first divided – then terms agreed on, so he that would not acquiesce may thus turn without care of losing that which he earned. Yet you say that this was mere happenstance – that you did not hold the gear as a cudgel to use over our heads, should we choose to disagree with you. If that is so – then I have erred in my judgment – and though I cannot in good conscience apologies for the man I am, I will make amends for standing well aligned to an unsound judgment.”
”And,” I add with a curl of my lip, and sudden new light in my eyes, different then the dark fire – more fresh and spritely it seems ”if you then say you are as a friend to me; I do accept your friendship well and truly. Come then – let us clasp hands in brotherhood, for when Fate conspires against us so that we should endure more trials by the wretches we are currently surrounded by, I would be more pleased to know you stand by me, then against me,” I say, gripping the arm of Jiro to shake it warmly; even as my eyes suddenly flick quickly to his wrist – and back.
Even without a Perception/Sense Motive – you can see that at the moment I shook Jiro’s hand, I took a quick glance for Iron Marks – scars made by manacles when you may have been prisoner. Whether or not you have them doesn’t change my attitude, and you sense that reaction on my part was involuntary – rather then suspicious. You also would sense I am sincere in my appreciation for the offer of friendship, and am happy to be someones ally rather then their enemy; looking for the marks was a thing I was taught somewhere - it was not meant as personal, it was just the reason I did it.
To Dhaavan regarding looks: Well – good questions. Clearly I have a picture of what my character looks like already – but as for his general form? It’s pretty hard to really get a sense out of it – his rugged good looks, coupled with his natural charm and winning charisma make it almost impossible for you to pay attention to such nuances as his build :)
Even so – he is 6’2” and – for the most part – has the body of a fencer. Lean, muscular enough that if he punched someone it would hurt – but his body isn’t a hulking tank of a man (Str of 18 and Con of 14) – he’s a scholar, an academic type. If you had to give him a look; consider the build of “Indiana Jones” – a man who is actually a professor; but also is tough enough to get into a few fights, dish out some damage even if he gets the crap knocked out of him, but will spend more of his time dodging a blow, and doesn’t mind using his pistol to beat the bad guys.
Seijiro has no marks on his wrists - from manacles or anything else, just fyi...
Seijiro stands and very hesitantly looks at Rain a moment before taking Flynn's hand... he almost shivers and the grip on his own part is hesitant when it starts out... After Flynn releases his hand, he bows to Flynn deeply.
"Friends then, and so sorry for any misunderstandings. A new leaf, then, has been turned."
I don't think I'll ever truly get used to the custom here. Why don't they bow like civilized people? Still I must make the effort as they seem to require this foolish touching of hands.
He bows again and smiles at Flynn. "I am glad to put this morning behind us then and move on."
Seijiro has no marks on his wrists - from manacles or anything else, just fyi...
He bows again and smiles at Flynn. "I am glad to put this morning behind us then and move on."
”Very good, then – I am well pleased to have put these issues aside. But, on the mater you so recently raised – there is fair question in how such things should best be answered. Namely, how shall we look to the division of things that may benefit us, would we be given such chance as to have such opportunities,” I add, somewhat circumspect regarding dividing gear, not sure who may be listening – but relatively confident that unless the pirates that surround me are more educated then I take them for, they will have enough difficulties navigating the nuances of my verbose speech.
Nevertheless, for now I speak with some semblance of caution; even though I am less concerned with reaction.
Even so, I decide then to check my querry.
”Nay – perhaps those are words for another time, eh?” I add with shrug.
”Very well – I am learning much of the nuances of those who would be friends to me; but little do I know of their true nature and history. You are not of our culture – but an easterner – and I know little of your ways. As we are afforded some time – come; tell me – share with me your full tale, and, if you would prefer – I shall enlighten you with mine own. But do not let the flow of words be abated – you are a mystery to my folk, I deem – and I would know more of your people, not merely your family – but your customs and habits – and that which you cherish in the ways of lore. History, religion, philosophy, poetry – for it is written – ”Train first the mind in the arts of Peace, and it shall be ever stronger in the arts of War” – Ha! Very good then; tell me your ways of peace, teach me what you know; share with me your culture, and I shall do the same for you,” I say, leaning against the rigging, eager for the distraction as bastion against the trials in my mind.
Hey everyone! Sorry about being MIA. The sunburn took a turn for the horrible when it started itching so bad I near clawed my skin off. I'm doing better now though. Awesome job on all of the posting in my absence. As a result of all the great work, you all pass your work checks and are able to automatically succeed at hiding dumping your rum should you wish to.
I am slowly going back through all the postings to pick out any influences or other actions. Once I get through all of that I will post an update.
"You are asking me to put my entire culture into a few short words... that is hard to do. And my clan is not even among the main where I come from... we are a small and insular clan among many greater than we are. And even our ways are somewhat different from the rest, though we do follow the ways of the Minkaian people in most ways."
He pauses and shrugs.. thinking hard of where and how to begin... "In Minkai honor and respect are as important, maybe more important than life itself. I ... am not so learned in things like history. I know the Jade Regent rules Minkai because the Emperor is missing... and that when I left things were... well.. tense... very tense. Talk of civil war was whispered in the taverns. I don't know what has happened in the five years since I left home."
"What would you know about religion? I know little, but I do know of Daikitsu, lady of foxes and goddess of crops and rice. She is the patron of my clan and we honor her above all others. Hei Feng, God of Thunder, rules the seas, storms and wind. It is to him I pray for fair weather when asea. I think you would like Qi Zhong the best, for he is god of healing and medicine and you say you are a doctor. There are others, some lesser some greater... and we worship some of the same gods as you do here in the west. Abadar and Irori for example. And our ancestors are all spirits to be honored as well, and we do so with great reverence."
He pauses to catch his breath and think a bit.
"Philosophy? I'm not exactly sure what that is or what you would want to know about it, and our poetry is simple and direct, what little I know of it. I am not what you would call a learned man. I went to sea very young. But I do like haiku... a very short poem with special rhythm to it." He pauses to think a moment and then speaks softly in Minkaian..."urayamashi, utsukushuu natte chiru, momiji" He shrugs again and smiles at Flynn with an almost apologetic look. It means "How enviable, Turning beautiful then falling, Maple leaves."
Happy memories of home that poem brings back. I miss Minkai in the autumn.
He grows silent after that and looks out over the railing at the horizon for a bit before turning back to Flynn. "I have shared some of what I can with with you... what would you tell me of yourself and where you are from?"
Immortal, sorry about the bad sunburn.
Flynn's words regarding her eyes intrigue her for the underlying double meaning ... She simply watches him with her turquoise gaze squarely meeting his own fixed stare.
Rain listens at Jiro and Flynn's exchange of words without interfering or interrupting. She was not sure how much sway she had with the doctor so she could not intervene on behalf of Seijiro, unless it looked like they would come to blows. She would step in then most assuredly.
Yet it seemed they had come to some strange understanding and Flynn suggested they speak of their cultures to lessen the divide and estrangement between them. I suppose that bodes well, she reflects inwardly.
She nods her head toward both males as if to say well done.
Rain knows little of religion apart from her people's beliefs. So she listens, paying attention and expanding her knowledge.
When Jiro mentions poetry and the hai-ku, and speaks of falling autumn leaves, Rain sighs softly at the simple beauty of the words.
"Jiro, the poem was lovely. Thank you for sharing it. Your native language is strange on the ear but not imposing."
Seijiro rises and bows to Rain. "Your words give me honor, Rain-San. You are most welcome."
He squats down again, which seems to be a comfortable position for him, and looks to Flynn for his response.
Rain looks up at the night sky filled with stars and ghostly clouds like galleons upon an endless sea. With upturned face and closed eyes she drinks in the salt on the air and the fresh wind stroking her skin. The night and wind are a wondrous pairing, her thoughts are quiet for it seems Jiro's poetry has had a strange but inspiring effect on her. Like a sip of cool water against a parched throat.
Hearing Jiro's request of Flynn, she turns her attention back to her companions, and adds with a gentle smile, "Aye, Flynn. Please share your story with us."
She notices Jiro rise and bow and graciously bows her head in acknowledgement and acceptance. "Rain", in relation to his reference to Rain-san. "Jiro, what does the san mean when you add it to my name?"
When rum rations are given out during the evening meal, Rain will once more try to tip the rum out without being noticed by Plugg or his crew. She does not care for the effects having seen what it has done to some of her companions.
Stealth to dispose of rum: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22
Returning to the ship's railing, she lifts the rum as if to drink and with casual but vigilant ease pours it over the side.
haha. I didn't see the part in Immortal's post where he said we automatically succeed at hiding/dumping the rum. Oops. ;)
Seijiro stands and joins Rain at the railing and looks out over the horizon while he waits for Flynn to gather his thoughts and begin speaking. He intentionally does not look down at what her hands are doing so as not to draw any attention to them... instead his gaze is out to sea...
Rain feels Jiro's presence by her side at the railing and in her mind is glad for the extra cover his body provides as she rids herself of the mind-turning rum.
When the deed is done, and with her eyes staring out into the open arms of the sea, she whispers, "Thank you", hoping Jiro will understand her meaning.
While waiting for Flynn to open up about his life, Rain turns to Seijiro and repeats her earlier question (for he must not have heard her the first time), "Jiro, why do you add san to the end of my name? What does it mean?" She is genuinely curious.
"It is a term of respect for one who is your equal. One would add -sama to address one who is greater than oneself. For example, I would show respect to the officers by addressing them using -sama with their names. However on this ship, I have no respect for them, so should I ever need to address them, I would use the Common 'sir' as it shows little to no respect. One uses -kun to address one's lesser, or -chan to address a dear one or a child." He blushes as he realizes he's said far too much, far more than she asked for.
He lowers his voice so only Rain can hear.
He blushes even deeper and looks down into the wake at the side of the ship before glancing back up at Rain.
"I mean no offense nor to be forward, Rain-san."
The day progresses quickly and is over before he rally notices. The few breaks he took were just enough to keep himself from exerting himself bend his limits. When bloody hour approaches it is with a is of relief that he nor any of his companions are brought forward for failing to do their tasks. It is with a sense of relief then that he goes to speak with the man named Valeros. Without his help, Variel would have been unable to perform his duties at all today and would have received a beating that could have killed him.
I did not speak earlier, as everyone was riled up about the bilge, but you have my deepest thanks for your actions earlier. My name is Variel by the way, Variel Nightstorm. Do not take my silence earlier as being presumptive in your actions. Rather I was more concerned about further damage from our own shipmates. Please if there is something I can do for you in return please ask.
If you would be willing to extend your services again when able I would again be most indebted to you as I am still feeling out of sorts. during such a time I would also like to get to know the man who performs such deeds as yours. Surely you are blessed with a gift and have a history that goes along with it.
"Your culture is intriguing in its intricacies."
Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27
Rain notices the flush spread across the young man's cheeks and wonders at Jiro's embarrassment.
"I will try and remember the different titles you have spoken of, I have a fair memory but I may forget some of the lesser used ones. You are kind to explain it to me in the manner that you have", smiling, hoping to put Jiro at ease with her words.
And in equal mindful manner, replies carefully for Jiro's ears only,
"No offense was taken, Jiro."
Perception1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12
Even though his attention is upon the man Valeros before him, it doesn't take much to notice the outbursts coming from Flynn. Unable to fully hear the conversation from this distance it is still apparent that something is going on over there. Periodically Variel glances over to the four people conversing wondering what is going on over there.
Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20
During her conversation she senses someone watching and looks up, scans the deck and finds Variel looking her way. She would have lifted her hand in acknowledgement as she is still concerned about his health since the rat attack. Yet, he had remained uncommonly silent throughout the day's work and she did not want to disturb him now as he seemed to be standing near Valeros. He looks displeased and she wonders at it. Have I done something to earn his displeasure?, she contemplates silently. A frown crosses her brow.
Good luck on the kid. That is tough them being that young. I am glad I am through that stage.
Even from across the ship, Variel notices when Rain glances his way. As he meets her eyes, a soft smile graces his face and eyes. Hopefully there is strength portrayed in the smile even if Variel doesn't feel all that hale right now. He doesn't want to show weakness in anyone's eyes, let alone Rains. The slight frown worries him though especially with Horatio's outbursts.
She can just make out a smile on Variel's face and it gives hope to her heart that Variel is not angry with her. A smile lights her face in swift response and she takes a moment longer to look upon the Elven male.
I will speak with you soon, Variel, she pledges silently, hoping he knows she is not ignoring him.
The socially astute, and well traveled boy listens the the sharp-eyed bird at his shoulder, scritching it's head, and whispering to it, Something in infernal, if one listens closely enough and they share a chuckle, and a glance at Variel who is likely too interested in watching Rain to pay much heed to Dhaavan.
The bird flies over to the elven man, and alights on his head, peaking him lightly, almost affectionately in a consoling manner. If he looks at it, the strange intelligence in its eyes betray a sort of sympathy, or at lease pity, although there is curiosity rather than actual understanding. It shares a few words with the elf "ارے یار، عورت کے بارے میں سخت قسمت ہے.لیکن یہ وہاں ملے، آپ کے لئے بہت دیر نہیں ہوئی ہے.اور میرے مورھ کے بارے میں فکر نہ کرو.وہ کوئی نقصان نہیں پہنچاتی ہے، میں اس بات کا یقین کر دونگا" and almost seems to smile.
Dhaavan on the other hand seems to be drinking his rum and having a jolly time of things. With the splitting headache he's had the past day, he decides to spill it. but the liquid tastes of the foul substance thanks to his practiced Prestidigitation.
Dhaavan will use this evening's action to influence this new person. He did pass his check, but barely. then he dumped his rum, re-filled the glass and flavored it with magic to taste and smell like rum. He's also going to finish Sandara's Tattoo
Dhaavan intends t spend the evening hanging with the mates! He tracks down Jak Scrimshaw to meet some of Jack's companions on the ship assuming that the 29 bead the unfriendly DC 20+cha mod by 5 to bring him to friendly (if he was indifferent i got another helpful boo-ya)
After the evening meal, Dhaavan will once again sit down to work. "Sandara! hey, would you like to sit yourself down here so I can finish up?" The tattoo is passable as a common piece of work, but there is dertianly more detail that could easily be added. "Sure yer serpent is halfway decent, but i'm feelin good about this one, and had a chance to figure out how to finish the finer details. And of course a little more time inking your leg ain't something any man'd complain about," he adds giving her a playful grin and a wink.
Craft to finish Sandara's Tattoo
1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23
The final tattoo is still a serpent coiling down her lower leg to her ankle, but now the beast looks as if it's scales are made of storm clouds, its teeth are lightning bolts, and eyes, are the eyes of swirling tempests. It rises from waves that form around her ankle, the sea raging and frothing rising and forming from her skin.
Every mark Dhaavan wade was well inked, and the detail emerged with an almost ruthless efficiency tempered by delicate artistry. When he finishes, he stands to admire his work, grinning, finally satisfied at the piece of art worthy of the leg its on. "Ah, there you are. A beautiful piece, worthy if the skin it's printed on, if I say so myself. Hope ya like it" he says to her, lightly touching the somewhat tender skin, and admiring how the lines and shape of the image happened to mesh with and accentuate the line of Sandara's strong and lean leg.
He also talks to Scrimshaw's friend, or maybe Cog, especially if Jak introduces Dhaavan to Cog.
1d20 + 11 ⇒ (10) + 11 = 21 maybe getting a situational bonus due to giving him a free tatt, and getting the introduction?
and gives them a simple tattoo.
1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13
Likely something tough looking that doesn't require as much detail as sandara's, but still a passable piece of ink that a pirate would appreciate. maybe on some sensitive and visible place, so it's less a piece of art, and more a sign of manliness. MANLEY!
Scratching my beard somewhat, I ease myself a bit more comfortably in the rigging, considering the question on my own story – then I begin.
”You know already my name; Horatio Flynn, and I am the son of my mother Jenna Flynn. I never knew my father…”
”My mother was a priestess to the goddess Milani. So that you know,” I say turning to Jiro, as he is new to our land and may not know our gods very well ”Milani is the goddess aligned the cause of Liberation. Her followers will fight hardest against oppression – specifically a dominion which is placed over another in the form of slavery. Those same clerics have often fought the hardest against the mendicants of the Chelaxian Empire.”
”Typically,” I say with a scowl ”the followers – being so enamored with their goddess’s desire to fight the “good fight” against tyranny and slavers; will persist in their protests and direct action until death takes them in the form of martyrdom. So it was with my own mother.”
For a moment the dark fire that I have mentioned before seems to kindle again in my eyes, than dies down a bit.
”Always it was with me that I was taught to adhere to her methods and duties – though I was shrouded from them mostly. My mother did not wish me to be embroiled with her fight directly; being that I was only a child at the time – and so kept from me her true purposes. I knew she was a priestess – I knew also she worked hard to petition the local magistrate for better treatment for the slaves taken from the Mwangi provinces – and I knew also she very strict in her speech with me regarding any action that was unbecoming of a gentleman.”
”That education especially was important to her – ”For” – she would say ”your actions and manner of conduct are first noticed when you enter a room and announce them with your speech; your courtesy; your clothing. What does it matter if you bear a good – nay – a great heart, but none will look upon you to see it, for they have already judged you lowly? How can you move men to worthy action if they deem you to be a vagrant or ruffian? It is a regrettable situation, my son, but in the world of men we must always recall that we are seen first with mortal eyes, and those eyes being mortal, not Divine – cannot see our hearts. Therefore, what can be seen – must be demonstrated to be good an pure directly, so when we speak, we do not give them cause to doubt our true purpose.” – aye, and such were her words, ever and again.”
”Be courteous, be virtuous, be chaste and so forth – always that drive to mold me as such was there, for to her – how could I inspire anything in someone who prejudged before they even heard my heart’s intentions?”
My voice has dulled somewhat, and my eyes seem to stare off listlessly.
”So I struggled to do what she wished – even now I struggle, perhaps her ghost haunts my performances still, eh?” I say, suddenly trying to enliven the speech with a bit of brevity.
”But – it was not easy – for my mother died when I was a lad; and I did not know how, nor why – for the reason of the death was not made clear to me as a child. One day she left me to go to a “church function” – and she did not come back. I was taken by the authorities shortly after – then turned over to my uncle Donavan – for he was deemed my only surviving relative. It was under his teaching that I learned a different path, though I did not forget the first; even as you see me now.”
I spit to the leeward into the scuppers, thinking a moment.
”My uncle was my mother’s brother – her elder by six years. He adopted as a son to him when I was but seven years in age. He taught me much of the world of men, in a way that my mother did not, nor could not, I suspect. For to her the world of men was one fabulous construct of high ideals and noble concepts – a world where men and values were special, sacred – honorable – so much so that the motivations for these men are often overlooked, and the men themselves were given qualities that were not befitting to them, I believe.”
”No – she was aligned to the noble quality of all – ”Oh my son; do not let ever hatred seep into your thought or being; for it is surely a maligning of the truer purposes of the great gods. Nothing goes on without their knowledge, and to us it may seem unjust or unfair – even so; we must have Faith that there is something more important in those plans that we ourselves may not see with ease. Consider even the man who took me? I was filled with grief and sorrow, and pain besides – but know this: if that had never happened, then I would never had you. And you are, to me – a blessing worth a thousand such assaults. I see now the purpose of the gods in making me endure that, for though it may have given me cause to be bitter and grief filled - for me it was a chance to rejoice instead, for it brought to me your birth, and that is a blessing I thank the gods for every day.””
I glance up at Jiro and the elven lady; my face twisted into a foul look, my eyes dark.
”Aye – such a lovely story for a son to hear; hate not, loathe not – despise not even the tragedy which has come to your own mother, for she does not – indeed, she praises such dark deeds she suffered, and says that enduring them has resulted in your own birthing, and that was good she suffered, so that she may have you. Oh yes – a fine thing for a son to swallow such a painful medicine, I should think – and as I aged, it was no easier to digest, that I promise you.”
Scowling – I continue.
”Yet my uncle was another sort. He would keep me safe from true danger, but not so much that I did not learn to meet danger, for it was part of life. Under his teaching I grew to ready manhood better. I learned many great things under his hand; I learned to fence, to fight, to swim and the ways of the Sea, for he took me on the waves when I was young to teach me as many trades as possible,” I say, my mood lightening some.
”He tried to teach me as many jobs as he could; from being a carpenter to a fisherman – aye; even to logger – any task he knew, he would teach me. For he said to me – ”These tasks – they may not become you, aye – but when you learn well the skills I teach you, then you at least have the choice in vocation – to follow one path, or another, or whatever becomes you best.” – and so I learned many things from him.”
”I learned too that men were not so noble or simplistic as the education of them my mother had given me. Instead they were far more complex – some men doing good things for the community, as our magistrate had – but being wicked in heart; the good deeds a mere sop for the population so that they would not grow angered by his corruption and his ability to sell his honor so cheaply to other dishonest men for a few pieces of gold.”
”Also I had time to turn my eye to other men; men who were filthy, and stank, and swore besides – even so; I saw that some of these men who were as scoundrels showed true love for their fellows and honored their companions. I saw a certain rugged incorruptibility in the more “barbaric” men of the surroundings lands that were not seen much in the “civilized” land that I lived in.”
”Men who had did not have the protection of law, men who could be killed with no protection from authority – such men had a unique stance in their own form of manners and honor. For if you stand askew another who would cut your throat if you malign him, you learn very quickly not malign another man – and if the community is your only means of survival in the wild; and to behave with a corrupt or dishonest nature harms the community and brings expulsion from the tribe; then your expulsion brings your death, and you learn quickly to never break faith with your community with dishonest ways.”
”These ways of life; simple and unbreakable – these codes – to me they were strange. For I had been taught that true honor wears the face of finery and civilization; only when I traveled with my uncle did I realize that honor may be found even in unlikely places, such roving band of trappers who hunted the woody ends near the coasts and traded game for supplies when the season was ripe. All of these new things I learned from my uncle - and he taught me well.”
My eyes suddenly dim again –
”Aye – he taught me many things – indeed, he told me, when he felt I was aged enough – the truth about my mother’s death. He had told me that the night my mother perished she had gone with other priests from her temple, and some local converts – to engage in a task of liberating captive slaves. This thing my mother did was illegal; for slaves are tolerated to work the estates of the wealthy – and in case, the efforts of the priests failed. But not because they could not liberate the slaves – nay; they failed because, having achieved their ends, in the fracas – the slaves believed they were to suffer the exchange of one master for another – and so, when their bonds were loosed, the slaves killed all they could before they fled – including the very folk who had come to liberate them,” I add with a dark grunt.
”So, I have little use for slavers – but less use for men who live in bondage – for the chains we endure in mortal flesh soon twist our own spirit into dark shapes and make our very spirit foul, if we endure such mastery…”
I pause and glance to the sky a moment, then continue.
”As I aged though, my uncle – seeing that I was more wise then he – and determined that I should not live a life when an opportunity could do much for me – did what he could to save his money and insisted that I go into an academy. My uncle was a hard worker and very frugal with his money; even so, this was not an easy task for him. Such places of learning were for wealthy men who could afford to send a son to learn a trade with ease, and so return to their family and help that same rich father better in their appointed task.”
”I am not wealthy though – and so I and my uncle worked hard to do what we could to push me through such education, for it was costly. My uncle had served as a ship’s carpenter in his youth; and knew a minor nobleman – who he asked to be my sponsor. The nobleman agreed, if my uncle had the coin for the cost; and when my uncle was short, the noble, Sir Reginald Windsor – C.N.* retired – did what he could to aid me – though in truth most of his aid was petitioning the academy to accept a lad who was not of noble blood or a wealthy family.”
”So – I joined the academy and bent my mind to the task of learning all that I could – and I studied all that was available to me – for I felt I owed that at least to my uncle, and discovered besides that I had a desire to learn about lore for its own sake, for it fascinated me to study it.”
”I chose the field of medicine, for a surgeon makes a decent wage; and I had a desire to help people. Yet not like my mother’s aid – but open, direct – and in a manner that any could see, and none doubt. Also, I was eager to sign on to a ship, for a surgeon may become an officer, and officers gain a greater part of the prize money for enemy vessels taken. I hoped to earn ready coin and so send it home to my uncle to repay his kindness.”
I glance at the two with a small shrug.
”Aye – my uncle is alive and well – for he returned home to see me accept my certificate upon graduation from the academy – and later both my uncle and Sir Windsor congratulated me on my graduation, and left me with many fine words of praise – and entreated me to find my success forthwith.”
”Well,” I say, glancing again at the heavens and reckoning the time –
”I see the hour is later than I thought, and that my story waxed longer than I expected. I hope it has given you some clue to my history – but ask if you would know more – and I shall tell you happily.”
”For myself, I would know more of your people’s philosophy – and, as you have suggested by example – their poetry. I am not unused to verse – and I would think that upon hearing your words I may respond – “
Fallen leaf withers –
Yet while branch is bleak and bare
Be ready! Spring comes…
”A mere nothing perhaps – yet I thought it apt; considering circumstances…” I say with a flat smile at our captors, my voice betraying a hint of sardonic pleasure at the impromptu poem even as a flicker of light suddenly kindles behind my eyes.
* C.N. - Colonial Navy. The designation or abbreviation for the naval forces of the Colonial Fleet.
GM – I hope you feel better; sunburn is no picnic. My prayers to you and to your sons; and their swift recovery.
Seijiro pauses a moment and thinks... then speaks in Minkaian, "Ochita ha wa kare - Buranchi wa, kōryō to s%&%a hadakadesu mada shibaraku Junbi ga dekite iru! Harugakuru... Well, it is beautiful in both languages, and apt, though I doubt our captors would understand it."
"I'm sorry for the loss of your mother... You were lucky to have an uncle to raise you to see beyond the outer trappings of a man to judge instead his heart. He sounds like a good man."
"Poetry is not my strength, neither is learning. I never went to an academy or learned anything from books. I do know more of stories than of verse. Perhaps one night I will tell a tale from Minkai when there is more time, though my brother is by far a better storyteller than I am.
He looks wistful and purses his lips when he speaks of his brother, glances out over to the horizon and mutters something else in Minkaian softly. After a moment he looks back to Flynn and shrugs slightly.
"Thank you for sharing your tale."
To Jiro and Rain, though Dhaavan, i.e. "Max Manly" is free to participate in the conversation if he isn't too busy with is tattoo-work, as is anyone who wishes to listen
I stretch a bit, and settle again against the rigging; watching the sky a moment.
Sensing the sudden rising of my dark mood, I determine then to speak of something lighter and hope to discourage such unhappy thoughts that my actions may have raised.
The time of dark words should pass; purge it from you – these folk would be as allies to you. Do not speak overmuch of darkness then – instead, speak of lighter things – of happier tales, and therefore distract from them such fears that your words may have inspired…
"I thank you for your words - but, let us not worry overmuch about the past, eh? Instead, let us turn our minds to other things that are far more pleasant."
”For though I prattle on I still know little of either of your people, except only some of elven folk – and that by happy form of study alone.”
”I have heard some of elves – but the books I read were written on the elven folk of Kyonin – and they deal with the elves who live in deep forests and ancient civilizations that stretch far before man – I know little of the elves of the Sea, and their ways and customs.”
”Nor do I know much of the ways of easterners – though you have given me good lessons so far,” I say with a polite nod to Jiro.
”Yet with all my questions, I offer you both little in return for your answers. Very well, to amend this, I shall share with you a piece of lore you may find interesting. And this lore came from no book I studied, but rather, it came from what my uncle taught me. He told me once that the act of piracy did more for cooking then any other device known to man,” I say with a small grin.
”No - this is no jest, but sincerity. But let me share the truth behind it," I say, getting a bit more comfortable.
"My uncle told me what all learned folk knew - that cultures tend to stay close knit, not mingling beyond race – beyond the boundaries of nation or of nationality. As such – customs stayed within borders; clothing, weapons, arms, and of course – cooking. However, he pointed out a strange fact to consider also. He told me that a Royal Naval fleet would employ men from their kingdom – but all of those men shared food from their own nation, and were only used to such food; such spices, such styles of cooking. However – as pirates were villains and rogues who hid from the laws of men, and were outlaws who would hide from their own countrymen – a vessel filled with pirates would more often then not have men filled with folk from multiple nations, multiple races, and therefore - multiple palates…”
”Thus the folk aboard would be forced to mix with each other – and they would all – by necessity – have to share each others customs. For they were on a small vessel – and it was not easy to create such boundaries as a nation could create. A scoundrel on a ship must learn to accept the customs of his mates - and this would often include their cuisine.”
”Now, I have been told that many centuries ago the Elder Elves ate no meat – only vegetables and perhaps some fish – nothing more. Yet when they mingled with men, through piracy – the men would aboard would demonstrate a hunger for meat! The elves, not enjoying this custom overmuch – but through necessity, soon learned to eat meat as men did – and men learned lighter eating habits from the elves."
"Beyond this mixing of foods a further new style of cooking was made. For aboard ship men ate dried and salted meats; for they had no ovens to cook the meats with, and likely longed for broiled beef. But the elves had divined a way to prepare hot food with light skillets. This method they used when they would quick-fry their vegetables over a small brazier of hot coals – or simply use a little magic to heat the skillet when the vegetables were fried in it.”
”Well,” I say, warming to the tale and sharing of information ”the men – seeing this strategy to quick-fry vegetables in a light skillet with a little fish oil – having a penchant for meat – soon began to use the skillets to quick-fry pieces of meat in the pans; fresh meat – and then fresh vegetables – served hot together with various spices; some from men, some from elves. Now you have today an entire cooking style to make quick-fried meat which men have learned from a race of people that eat only fish and vegetables,” I say with a grin.
”Ah yes – the life of a outlaw on the seas is one that forces adaptation – but also can lead to great discoveries – especially in the way of food – and those same discoveries are so popular that the men who employ those cooking styles have actually become known by the styles themselves.”
”Aye – ‘tis true! Why – in the neighboring nation of Mwangi, the tribesman cook their meat on large skewers which are placed over open flames – slowly rotated and cooked throughout the entire day and seasoned with spices. This style of cooking is well thought of and enjoyed by many – and many Mwangi men who were once slaves have escaped and sailed to the islands of The Shackles. There they make little villages – and allow some men to come and trade with them; both the Mwangi and tradesmen are likely to be pirates or outlaws – which is no doubt why they do business with each other.”
”In any case, these outlaws or pirates who come to trade and do business with the Mwangi enjoy the company of their hosts – especially the chance to get hot food well made on these wooden skewers – and it is the same wooden skewers – which the Mwangi call a ”buccan” which give these outlaws their name “Buccaneer”.”
”Ah – listen to me go on again – I could do so for many a day; for – as I said, I love lore. And it distracts the mind from such difficulties that we had in the morning. But tell me Jiro-san – if that is the honorific you prefer – they say in my academy that elven food has much in common with eastern dishes, for long ago elves used magic gates to travel the world, and learned much from your culture – is it true, then? Do you – like the elves, use little metal skillets to quick-fry vegetables, and eat them alone? But wait – you have said that you venerate the Fox – if that is true, it seems likely you would eat meat, as the Fox does. Is meat the preference then for you, or do you eat only vegetables - or is neither the case?"
I turn to Rain –
”And to you lady – tell me; your people live in the deep waters of the sea as you say – what manner of food do you like? Much fish I would think – but how do you prepare it? I cannot think that there are many stoves or ovens beneath the waves; but near the coast you may have such devices to employ. Do you use such ovens, or nay? "
Caught up in my curiosity, and happy to have something pleasant to talk about - I continue my questions.
"Ah - and they say also that elves are fond of wine – but wine is only made from fermented grape juice; so you could not get that with ease, and I should guess that the deep Seas have very few things to ferment. But without such things to ferment, how then do you get strong drink, except through trade?"
"Of course - there are many coastal fruits which can be brewed into strong drink, but if not wine – what is your preference? I have seen some folk make food of kelp and fish – as fresh greens are not readily found on ships – do you do as that, or eschew kelp for the food of fish? No disrespect – I am sincerely curious. One day perhaps soon, we shall all be free of this nonsense – and I would know what meal to feast better on when that goal has been achieved.”
I glance at Jiro and Rain – and Dhaavan, if he is around, or anyone else.
The rum – it seems – has not effected me overmuch now; my tasks are done – and I am better able to discuss with some relaxed manner happier things with allies, rather then the stresses of the life we are forced into.
Yet despite it all - you sense that this conversation, though it holds my interest - is clearly my effort to distract my mind from that which troubles me.
While this action continues – please remember that my “Formal” night action has not been declared yet – mainly because before I do so, I want to see the results of my “day action”. When I know more – I will post more on that count.
Seijiro smiles slightly at the use of his name with the honorific -san added to it, and he bows his head slightly to Flynn to acknowledge the honor.
"I am no chef, but I frequently watched my mother cook when I was young. Yes, my people do use round metal pans to quick fry foods. Among my clan the eating of meat and fish are both common, though we do eat vegetables and rice as well. Perhaps it is as you say and the elves learned to cook this way from their travels in Minkai. It is an ancient art in Minkai. But we also eat fish raw sometimes... it is a great delicacy eaten with rice and dried seaweed."
"I miss the food of my homeland, and as you say, there are so many different tastes and cultures mixed on a such a ship. However there is no attempt to cater to those different tastes. When I served aboard Minkaian ships, the food was Minkaian, so it's not surprising that aboard a western vessel, the food would be prepared and served in some type of western fashion. I have served aboard several western ships, and the food style seems to depend more on the cook's origin than anything else."
He shrugs and scowls slightly. "I have heard the term 'buccaneer' before, Flynn-san. I was told it referred only to some pirates... those whose ships were run by group decisions and divided all plunder equally. I have never myself served on such a ship, but I have heard tales of them. I thought they were just stories."
"Perhaps it is true, as I have heard, that all stories have some basis in fact."
He shifts uncomfortably as he says this last, his red-amber eyes growing dark with dark thoughts.
Ok...wading through the posts. Please let me know if I missed anyone. Thanks for the well wishes everyone. Exhausted and took the day off from work to help with the kids. Doing a bit better though. Remember today is basically a freebie as in autosucceed job and rum ration hiding checks. Let me know if you have any questions.
I posted after the rats were dead, and you didn't respond to this:
Thursday, 09:29 PM
climb: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18
climb: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18
climb: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17
prof sailor: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13
Seijiro goes back to his task as assigned and works until he has a chance to slip down to the lower deck mid-day sometime. He's got little to say, to say to anyone and just goes about his work with no more or less intensity than before.
DM: (In spoiler)
He's got his tools, so when he goes below decks, he'll take a few minutes to rifle through another locker, making sure it isn't one that belongs to one of his mates.
stealth: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23
depending on what he finds he may or may not stash some or all of the loot in Maheem's locker.
Not sure where you got the action that I was influencing or trying to influence Tibbs, that was probably my night action from the night before. The above is my day action for the day of the rats, and I have yet to take my night action for this day because it depends on the outcome of this action.
diplomacy: 1d20 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 1 + 2 = 10
sense motive: 1d20 ⇒ 8
7 and 8 really? the dice roller can bite me! lol
As for the locker, I did miss that sorry. 1d3 ⇒ 3, 1d100 ⇒ 60, 1d100 ⇒ 21, 1d100 ⇒ 94. You find a Flask of crystal clear water, a set of normal thieves tools, and a battered tankard along with 1d20 ⇒ 19 gp.
As to my "tale", it isn't much different than half the sorry souls that call the Shackles home. I'm a sailor and sometimes pirate that lives his life day by day across the waves. I was looking for a ship and work in Port Peril. Just my bad luck I ended up on this ship. It's easy to tell that there might be more to this story but it's nothing he seems willing to tell right now.
CLW on Variel: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7
After dinner and dumping his rum, Valeros heads below decks to relax and gather himself together. After his now nightly ritual in the bilges, he watches the rest of the crew to get a feel for the people he's sharing space with.
Night Action will be to Sleep. He'll be up and about for any RP opportunities he might jump into but not gonna do any official ship actions.
Ship action: talk to Grok
During the conversation with Valersoppos, it is easy to see that not all of his personal effects have been returned to him. As such, after their conversation, Variel will seek out Grok and talk to her. Grok, I need your help. Do you see that man over there against the mast staring at the water. I am deeply indebted to him. Just his morning he saved my life while I was down in the bilges. I wouldn't be here talking to you now if it wasn't for his actions. I wish to return his effects to him. I know how much my mother's pendant means to me and I am sure that his belongings he views in the same way. Would you help me in this so that I may repay a trifle of the debt that I owe?
Diplomacy 1d20 + 5 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 5 + 2 = 12
** spoiler omitted **
I grin wolfishly at Jiro.
”Aye – those called buccaneers are so rumored to run their vessels as equals may – but there is scant truth to the rumor you hear; instead, a pirate lives a life that becomes him best, and if it is with fair division of wealth – so much the better, but – as you can see – on this vessel such lofty ideas have fallen on deaf ears.”
”Even so, Jiro-san – though such men are called “Buccaneers” – the root of that word comes from the naming of the style of cooking I had mentioned earlier. It is merely slang that sat well on the ears of common folk, and is now an accepted definition.”
I ponder for a moment –
”Still, it is my experience that such rumors of equal distribution of loot are generally the exaggerations of bards and poets to enlarge on the nobility of the exploits of certain corsairs and such. No ship I have ever seen or heard of is so divided that way – for example; in the Colonial Fleet – the captain takes 10% of all prize money – but the pilot takes 15% - this is because – of course; though the captain may have the ability to govern the men legally, it is ultimately the pilot who brings them home safely. And the skills needed to be a pilot are guarded jealously.”
”Navigation – to chart a course; to read a chronometer and discover your point of longitude – these are priceless secrets that are wisely kept from the general crew. For if the entire crew were like us; pressed men - and we should rebel against our masters and slay them – what then? How would we get home? Where are we – where is the next port of call, and how can we chart a course to it?”
”Without that knowledge we may find ourselves sailing far from safety – into enemy waters, or worse – so wise officers keep their knowledge private; lest there be mutiny after mutiny.”
I shrug a bit.
”Of course – there have been great strides in knowledge; even now we observe that a ship's magi earns more then many a bosun might – and a priest on board a ship – who can call on their god to summon fresh water for a parched crew; or pray up a strong wind to give speed when an enemy is near – such things are worth much, and they who have such skills are paid more for their use. A fighting man is helpful – sailors having their place – but sailors and corsairs can be replaced with ease; just ask a press gang,” I say with a sardonic grin.
I turn then to Rain.
”You speak of food which stirs me mightily, lady, aye… You have indeed, by your wordplay, awakened a ravenous hunger in me which I would slake with much enthusiasm and intense vigor. For I fear this hunger stirs me deeply, and I would taste only of that which could satisfy it. Oh yes, lady – if you would one day prepare such a banquet for me to sup upon, I would feast long and well upon it,” I say watching her with a gleam in my eye.
Ok...wading through the posts. Please let me know if I missed anyone. Thanks for the well wishes everyone. Exhausted and took the day off from work to help with the kids. Doing a bit better though. Remember today is basically a freebie as in autosucceed job and rum ration hiding checks. Let me know if you have any questions.
** spoiler omitted **
Knowing what I now know about this Maggie Grace – her foul face does little to hide a Hostile attitude, which seems common with those who are officers that serve on this piss-pot of a ship, I consider my next action…
GM: What, specifically, is the position of Maggie Grace. She is an officer – but what duties are under her jurisdiction? Is she the Master Carpenter, Chief Surgeon, Sergeant-at-Arms? Basically – what is her position in the cadre of officers? It seems likely that I would have discovered it, if that is okay to know. If not, well – that is okay, too.
For my night action i want to influence whomever Scrimshaw introduces me to. If it's cog, then cool, but i just want to meet someone new that's a "friend" of Jak's
You have done much in the way of helping us. I thank you for the assistance you have already provided. Perchance I will have something of value for exchange tomorrow. If so I will see if Valeros can stop by and visit with you tomorrow. In the meantime Grok, have a good night and see you tomorrow.
Variel will search out Valeros in the bilges and in addition to helping him clean with prestidigitation providing no one else is present, Variel will hand him the axe. I tried talking to Grok to get your stuff back. She said that she helped as much as she can for now. Here is a fine axe for you to trade with. Try to get your stuff and whomever else still needs their gear. Good luck tomorrow.
Picking my teeth absently, I consider the tasks I may perform in the night.
I consider that my absolute best efforts could not move even one person to a somewhat genteel attitude. Therefore, I consider a new tactic.
The officers are filth upon filth – and will not aid me even if I even have the chance to speak with them. Further – the majority of the crew is already made clear they are more friendly to us then they may otherwise be… What then shall I do?
Hmm... As my uncle would say - "If your sword breaks - then draw your dagger!" - very well. The officers are not worth consideration - and the crew is not fully examined. In that case I shall find at least one person among them that seems somewhat Friendly and attempt to win them over better!
When I have a free moment, I shall approach the sailor called "Jack Scrimshaw" and attempt to influence him. He seems Friendly enough - but I would rather have someone I can trust who would be Helpful - when the time is ripe...
Diplomacy with "Jack Scrimshaw"
1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15
Flynn, Rain influenced Barefoot Samms during the night activities and got her attitude to Helpful, just so you know. :)
Ah - thank you! I certainly did not know - instead looking at the list of NPC's. Therefore, I edited my post from Samms to Jack Scrimshaw. If the NPC list is accurate - his current standing is "friendly" and should now move to "Helpful". At least - I think that is the case...
Seijiro contemplates possible nighttime activities as well... he sucks at diplomacy so will probably go back to what he seems to do best... rifling lockers, making sure he doesn't touch lockers belonging to his fellow conscriptees... unless someone has a better idea for his time
Alright. You know - I looked at the listing of NPC's - I understood it was updated. It seems it was not updated. So first I picked Samms, because the sheet said she was "Friendly". Then I found out she is already "Helpful". Then I figured "okay, I'll pick Jack Scrimshaw" - who was also "friendly" - but was actually moved by Dhaavan to "Helpful"; but I didn't know that because it was in a "Spoiler" to another player, and I do my best not to read other player's Spoilers and I only just now read that.
I don't know what is going on with the board; but it is very hard to post these sorts of actions if the page is not updated. At this time - I am going to simply Hold Action via nightly duties. When I know more about what is going on - I will post the action.