You awake on a hard wooden floor. Memories of the night before return to you, but you don't remember this floor. The taste of nutmeg hangs on your tongue.
As you try to sit up, a massive headache rock you. Looking around the room seems to spin. But you are able to see five fellow kobolds. After a moment, the room stops spinning. But does not stop feeling like it is moving.
Looking around again you find crates and barrels make it quite clear this is some type of storage room. While the dim lite room is no trouble for your eyes, the shadows make the room that much less inviting. Checking your self over you find that most of your stuff is missing.
Before you can speak up to the others, you hear footsteps. Turning you see a kobold, with a red bandanna and a fake beard, walking down a flight of steps into the room followed by six non-kobolds. He shines a lantern in your eyes before cracking his whip on the ground.
He talks in a twisted, cruel voice.
Draconic:"Still abed with the sun over the yardarm? On your feet, ye fithy swabs! Get up and on deck reporting for duty before Cap'n Harrigan turns you into a new pair of boots and has Fishguts fry ye up for breakfast."
He cracks his whip again before moving aside allowing you access to the stairs.
"Each of you will have an escort to help you to the deck."
Each of the non-kobolds looks to one of you. Eyeing you up.
You seen this kobold shortly before you were knocked out.
Syrrex growled as he stood up, squinting at the room around him. Was he... on a ship? And that blasted whispering again... he was really getting irritable with that. "Oh shut up already! I know where I am!" he hissed, climbing groggily to his feet and steadying himself. "Yes, probably. Tastes like... nutmeg. ...oil of taggit? Sounds delicious... yeah, I think we got drugged or something. Owie..."
Looking up to see another kobold with a fake beard and bandanna barking orders, he stumbled ahead, grabbing hold of a non-kobold to steady himself. "Just... hold your slurks, I'm sleepy... I'm assuming thanks to you all..." Clambering to the steps, he giggled a bit as he glanced back at the bearded 'bold. "...hee hee, he does. Like a shriveled up dwarf."
Meerko clutches his head with both clawed hands as consciousness returns to him. Blearily he takes in his companions, kobolds the lot of them, not good. He licks his scaled lips, poison for sure, that's worse. As the bearded kobold descends the stairs, Meerko's dread solidifies, They've found me!
Crawling to his knees, he begins to plead with his captor in draconic, "You can't send me back! No no no, I won't go. Not back to the Reedborn and their stinking warren. You'll send a corpse before I kneel before that toad again! Not Meer...", it's at this point Meerko begins to actually listen to the kobold's words, Yardarm, deck? A ship?
The former chieftain looks harder at the kobold's fake beard and the men behind him, looking much like those Meerko used to sail with, Pirates. Thank the drakes!, a grin spreads across Meerko's face and he draws himself up to his considerable, for a kobold, height, his tone decidedly upbeat, "You're a lucky egg my friend. Nabbed yourselves a proper sailor, not some dock rat. Sailed on Waveripper, Meerko's crew not flotsam like most."
The kobold smiles cruelly at Meerko. His gold plated teeth shine along with his bright red scales.
"If I need my lower claws licked clean, Than I will ask for it. But I will remember your experience on ships when I am disciplining you for your failings."
His smile fades.
"Get above deck before I tie you to the mainmast and find out how many lashings you can take."
At the sound of the voice, she tensed, but held herself from reacting. They were outnumbered and likely didn't know of the power within her. It was not the time to try something. She kept her mouth shut and her gaze downward as she hustles up the ladder as she was ordered to.
Sezzlik groans as he sits up, cradling his head in his long-fingered hands. That's the last time I try and sneak ale from upstairs... Hm? I'm on the sea? The muddy-scaled kobold looks around, taking in the sight of the other kobolds and the pirates. ...Oh, brilliant, he thinks to himself bitterly. I pray for deliverance, and now I'm property yet again. Might as well keep quiet and see how things go.
At the bearded kobold's words, he bows briefly and silently scurries up the ladder.
Meerko's broad shoulders fall at bearded ones reply, Bloody pirates..., Meerko simply nods slowly and heads towards one of the "escorts".
Sarag shakes his head as he wakes up not sure what had happened, he had been enjoying himself as he sang of his cousins. He yawned a bit as if he had just had a lovely nap.
Sarag pays attention to the note and smiles happy that someone had enjoyed his singing so much. He squeals and immediately runs away when someone starts yelling at him, hiding behind some equipment. He pears out and sees a Kobold, on that has the air of authority. He blinks and nods at him and scurries up to the deck.
"Sarag no need help, no no. Sarag will do as he is told, no lashes for Sarag...makes the scales cracked and itchy." he yelps out as he made his way up to the deck quickly. He looks around with intrigue once he gets there.
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"Urgh... this is new ship..?"
Mopsank staggers to his feet, feeling around for his knives. Nothing. He sighs, and follows after the others.
"Last ship had better poison. No yucky aftertaste."
Coming up on deck, you see others crawled around the mainmast. Some of you find that the sun glaring off the waters blocks some of your site. The others can see that there is open sea as far as your eyes can see.
While most stand on the main deck, there are two standing on a higher deck. To the left and a little ahead is a shaven head Garundi man with a patch on his left eye. He has a beard bound by gold rings and hangs low.
A little behind him, and to the right is a young man almost bald but for a long ponytail. He is carrying a cat-o-nine-tails.
As your eyes start to adjust to the light, you spot four other kobolds on deck.
The four look much cleaner than others and look uneasy.
With the crew on deck and up in the rigging, there can't be more than 30 crew on the ship.
The shaven man on the upper deck looks over the main deck.
"Ah! Glad you could join us! Welcome to the Wormwood! My thanks for 'volunteering' to join my crew. See Scourge there been a good for my crew. So I felt the need to see if more of the little dirt eater work as hard as he."
"I'm Barnabas Harrigan. That's Captain Barnabas Harrigan to you, not that you'll ever need to address me. I have only one rule--don't speak to me. I like talk, but not your talk. Follow that rule and we be all getting along fine."
"Oh, and one more thing. Even with you new recruits, we're still short, and I aim to kep what I have. There'll be a keelhaulin' for anyone caught killin' anyone."
He raises has hand to the man next to him.
"Mr. Plugg! if ou'd be so kind as to make pirates out of these rats. It'll save me having to put them in the sweatbox for a year before I make boots out of them. They don't look any good for boots anyway."
He turns and walks away. The man that was behind him. This man, Mr. Plugg, looks down at you.
Plugg walks around and down to the deck. By the time he gets to you the rest of the crew has left, each working on some task; even the other four kobolds.
"The captain wants me to turn you all into something useful. So best start here." he points to the main mast. "Up there is the crow's nest. Grab the rigging and climb up there or I will tire out my wiping arm!"
Mopsank just stays quiet and nods his head while the new captain makes his speech. It's always the same, really.
She bites back her comments and begins climbing. He family's ship had rigging designed for kobold claws. This was human-style rigging. Not good.
"...hee hee... yeah, he's gonna kill anyone who kills, because he has the crew to do that." Syrrex muttered under his breath. He watched as the female fell, no doubt incurring some nasty bruising. He had to admire her grit in getting back up at going at it again.
"...uhm... I can't climb very well. So, if you wouldn't mind, I'd like to do something else. Perhaps something I'm good at?" Looking up, he squinted as he thought he saw one of his crew make it to the top. Pretty quick little fellow. Waiting for the female to clamber back down, Syrrex holds up his claw and charges it with cool white energy, before moving over to tap her shoulder, her fall wound hopefully feeling a bit better.
"I can do that. I can also ask my ancestors which way we should be heading - preferably not into a storm - if that would help. I just... don't climb."
Plugg looks down at Syrrex.
"When I tell you to do something, you do it! Get your butt up there your tar brain!"
Meerko sneers at the captain's speech, This one's worse than the damned Waveripper...
At Mr.Plugg's challenge, he curses his lack of supplies, If I had my toys this'd be nothing., he looks around at the competition, Still, not much to worry about here.
Rubbing his claws together, Meerko cracks his neck before taking to the rigging hot on Mopsank's heels.
Unfortunately without the alchemical assistance he's become increasingly more dependent on, Meerko proves less agile than he's used to. While able to avoid a fall, he is unable to outpace at least one of his fellow captives.
Sezzlik stares at the towering mast in mild horror. He takes a deep breath and digs his claws into the wood.
Sezzlik pants heavily, his gangly arms not as strong as they need to be. He looks to the bearded kobold, and bows his head down. "I'm sorry, sir. I can't do it." he says simply.
"...I agree. No need to be rude." Syrrex replies to seemingly no one, before attempting to clamber up the netting...
...before falling right back on his rump. After a few more honest tries, he fell back to the deck and apparently gave up. Picking himself and dusting himself off, he turned to look back up at Mr. Plugg. "Sir, me up the net isn't happening. I've tried. Besides, we've already got someone in the big bucket up there. I'd be happy to try something else... but I can't climb. What else is there I can do? Fishing? You eat the fishies, right? How about telling bedtime stories? My great great great great scale father told me a good one about a goblin and a giant I think you'd like."
Mopsank looks down from the top of the mast and calls out to the others. "First time?"
Sarag squeaked at the command and began climbing immediately. He felt like he was still with his old tribe, poor poor weird little Sarag.
Sarag raced up as best he could but the heights was getting to him and he swooned before suddenly falling almost forty feet. He hit with a sickening thud and laid there unconscious with blood dripping from his maw.
Syrrex looked up wide-eyed as one of his brethren fell from the height, crashing into the deck and bleeding profusely. Moving to his side, he charged his claw with white energy once more, placing it on his shoulders and waiting to see if he came back to reality.
Not sure if he could still hear breathing, he charged his claw again and cast his magic once more. "I know how high it was, SHUT UP!" he yapped, turning to glare at empty space before turning back to his patient.
Sarag coughed and sat up holding his ribs.
Plugg shakes his head at the display.
"This is what I have to work with?! Landlubbers all of you."
He points to Mopsank up in the crows nest, and Meerko most of the way up.
"you're two are riggers now and work under me. You'll get your 1st duties when I am done with the rest."
Looking back to the others he sneers.
"Stop resting and get up. Now each of you: can you cook?
Meerko hangs from the rim of the crowsnest, looking down with mild concern as Syrrex tends to the broken form of Sarag. A reptilian smirk spreads across his face at his appointment, he looks up at Mopsank in the crow's nest, "Could be worse, eh? Sitting up here a little closer to the drakes. You've been on the seas before. Pirate or victim, er...sailor?"
Sarag gets up quickly trying to ignore his wounds. "Yes yes, Sarag is Lanlubber...but built his own raft with his own claws. Could cook yes, try not to burn. Burning is bad, hurts the scales. No no...must not burn." he said as he starts to mumble to himself not used to having others around so much.
"Yes, I was on lots of ships. Always pirates. Climb ropes, scrub floors, chop off nasty infected limbs, always the same."
"...probably? I've never really tried. I bet I- you sure? Well find him, would you? I could really use some help. Yes! I think I can cook!" Syrrex said, before nodding after his little outburst.
Sassara quietly nods thanks at Syrrex.
At the question of cooking, she stays silent. While it's probably softer work, imagining how this crew would punish bad food keeps her from speaking up. Working as a deckhand would be fine.
Meerko nods, "Cutter? Good. Looks like the little one down there will be competition, no?"
He hauls himself the last few feet into the too large crow's nest beside Mopsank. Peering over the edge, he watches the captain with a sneer, "Pirate life is good but always the same, no respect for dragonkin. This one has enough of us we might just learn him better..."
Mopsank grimaced, remembering something unpleasant. "No, bad idea, never ends well. Keep your head down, stay useful."
Meerko grins, rolling his broad, blue scaled shoulders, "Meerko's always useful, even if they don't see it. Just need to get my toys back..."
Plugg points to Sarag.
"Burning would be better then what we got now. You are the cook's mate now. You're working under Fishguts, the ship's cook, down in the galley." He looks back to Sassarra, Syrrex, and Sezzlik. "you three are swabs and work under Scourge."
holding his cat-o-nine-tails high he raises his voice. "This is a pirate ship; not a job for the weak. We don't shutdown for the night. Each day you will wake up and eat before your daily job. You will have some time to recover before Bloody Hour. At Bloody Hour any punishments for the day will be done before dinner. You will get your ration of rum and continue your job. You will work two, 4-hour shifts each. One with the sun, one without. Every bone in your body will bag when you head to bed and when you get up."
He points to Mopsank. "What's your name: there are some mizzenmast riggings that are in need of repairs." He points to Meerko. "And you will be working the foremast lines."
"Cook's mate is lucky today. Fishgut forgot where he put his rum. So he is sober. The last three of you Scourge gave me your work for the day." He throws the paper on the deck and walks away.
After he walks away, one of the kobolds that you seen before on deck walks up to the party. Her red/White mix-Scale stands out among Kobolds.
She pulls out a formula book and hands it to Meerko. He can tell it is his old formula book.
"On a pirate ship, it is not what one knows but who one knows." She looks the way Plugg walked. "One may have enemies, but needs friends so less trouble from enemies." She points to her self. "One has been on ship for weeks now."
When addressed, Mopsank quickly responds. "Mopsank, sir! I, also know carpentries, and I chop off nasty infected bits for you." He nods, eager to quickly establish his usefulness.
Sarag nodded and began to rubs his clawed hands together as he is told his duty. He picks up the piece of paper out of curiosity as he tries to find his way to the one called fishgut. He had never been on such a big boat so he was intrigued and looked over everything as he made his way there trying to commit it to memory.
The paper list three Swabs jobs for the day:
Sewing up some sails
Passing message to crew and officers for the day
Rope Hauler
the red-white kobold is standing there looking over each of the party.
Sassarra will nod ans whisper in passing to the red-and-white one, "Everybody needs friends." Going to Sarag, she'll take the note. "I think those are our orders."
Syrrex will quietly scurry off to find the kitchen and help, if he can. He was not much of a cook, but... his ancestors swore they knew some who could. Might at well give it a try.
After a few minutes, Syrrex comes wailing for mercy out of the kitchen through a billowing fog of black smoke.
I will post the rules for jobs in a bit.
Meerko quickly tucks the book under his armor, Even easier than I though!, he clasps the odd scaled one on the shoulder with a sly smile, "Drakes bless you. Meerko best friend you could want! ...I had a bag too, makes small "clinks" when you touch it?"
"Then I'll take the sails."
Sarah eventually makes his way to Fishgut's area. "Is you Fishgut? I am Sarag, I am to make myself useful for the cook as a mate. I can try not to burn things, but I am not a learned cook. Please do not beat Sarag for his lack of skill, Sarag is quick learner and eager to be helpful." he says as he nervously fiddles with his claws before the cook.
Sezzlik squints at the list. "I suppose I'll haul rope. I'm used to carrying things." Not very good at it, but used to it.
The Female thinks for a moment before pulling out a little bag; an component pouch. "They don't value words and magic stuff like other weapons. So was not hard for me to talk quartermaster into getting them back. Me name is Quinn."
You can not take additional actions while fatigued, and any fatigue checks from job comes before checks for additional ship actions.
When Kroop (the cook) is sober, he automatically makes the skill check for the day’s
cooking, with the PC’s assistance. When the cook is drunk, the cook’s mate must make the day’s meal for the pirates by herself, in addition to her normal duties for the day. If the PC has to hunt or slaughter the food as well as cook, all checks for both tasks are made with a –4 penalty. In such cases, if the cook’s mate takes any ship action during the day other than working, all work checks automatically fail (the cook’s mate does not receive the +4 bonus for working diligently in this case).
Daytime:
Work Diligently: +2 on any one check for a job's daily task. Stacks.
Influence: attempt to influence a single NPC
Sneak: Exploring one area of the ship.
Shop: Take a –2 penalty on all checks for a job’s daily task and visit the quartermaster’s store. Stacks.
Shirk: Take a -2 penalty on all checks for a job’s daily task. Take time exploring one area of the ship. May take 10 on a perception or other skill check. Stacks.
Nighttime ship actions:
Sleep: Go to bed early and sleep through the night (automatically recover from fatigue).
Work Diligently: +2 on any one check for a job's daily task. Stacks.
Influence: attempt to influence a single NPC
Sneak: Exploring one area of the ship. May need to make check to avoid discovery based on location.
Entertain: Make one Perform check to entertain the crew.
Shirk: Take a -2 penalty on all checks for a job’s daily task. Take time exploring one area of the ship. May take 10 on a perception or other skill check. Stacks.
Steal: Attempt to open a locked door or locker. The PC must make a check to avoid being discovered.
DC 10 Climb for 30 feet to reach the rigging.
DC 10 Profession (sailor) or Dexterity check for repairs.
DC 10 Profession (sailor) or Dexterity check.
DC 10 Constitution check to avoid getting fatigued for the next day.
Cook is sober and has no work for you today.
DC 10 Profession (sailor) or Strength check.
DC 10 Constitution check to avoid getting fatigued for the next day.
DC 10 Profession (sailor) or Dexterity check.
DC 10 Acrobatics check.
DC 10 Constitution check to avoid getting fatigued for the next day.
A PC with the Run feat automatically succeeds at this task.
As you work, the day passes. As the falling suns turns the sky red, you hear a voice call out "bloody Hour" and see everyone gathering on deck.
A man is dragged out from under deck tied up. You see him being taking up on the ForeDeck as Mr. Plugg steps out to address the crew.
"Jakes Magpie was found stealing from the quartermaster's store last night. This is one of the worse crimes aboard a ship. There is only one punishment that fits the crime: kellhauling." With those words he turns, with a smile, and pushes Jakes overboard.
Just over a minute later his body is dragged up from the other side of the ship and dumped on the deck. He is dead and is cut to shreds. After a few more minutes the body is thrown back over board.
"I don't want to see any more stealing from anyone." He says before walking away.
Mopsank finishes his work quickly, to make sure he has enough time to scout out belowdecks and find out where the humans were keeping his knives.
Meerko snatches the bag quickly, rooting through the various vials until he spots a small wrapped package at the bottom, My scales! Of course, ancestors would never abandon me like that!, Looking much relieved, the large kobold quickly attaches the bag to his belt. Finished, he turns back to Quinn, "Very good! Meerko owes you.", he grins slyly, tapping the pouch, "There's a dragon in this bag. "Captain" should be ware he does not wake it."
Looking to gather a few more supplies, Meerko slips below deck several hours into his shift, a few snippets of overheard conversation his guide to the quartermaster's location. Hunching as best he can and playing up the broken common of most kobolds, he approaches the man, "Quartermaster, yes? They got me running foremast lines but no give me anything to cut frayed ones! Need dagger yes? No want a whipping!"
Sezzlik, despite his weakness, is able to drag rope around like nobody's business. Unfortunately, the work exhausts him so much that he barely gets any satisfaction from watching the man be die horribly.