A rhythmic pulsing behind your temples drags you from sleep. In the dark twilight between wake and sleep, flashes of the previous evening flitter before you. You hear echoes of the laughter of a wild night, feel the heady joy of excess. The scents of rich stewed meats and perfume lingers in your nostrils.
Too quickly however, reality invades. The ground presses hard beneath you, and the slightest movement reveals aches and bruises you were unaware of. Your are bombarded by a damp, rank smell that could wake the dead (and just as likely kill them again). If this weren't enough to bring bile to the mouth, your tongue is saturated in the sickly sweet after-taste of cheap wine. The pulsing in your head has settled to a dull throb.
As you regain your senses, you realize that your wrists are very loosely bound behind you. As you attempt to wriggle free you notice you are not alone in the room. Around you are four other people in a similar shabby state.
escape artist
perception
He lost his concentration as he attempted to slip free of his bonds, but he could quite clearly see (and feel) that he was on a ship.
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Nico jerks awake with a small snort. As he tries to reach up to his forehead for a quick massage to alleviate the ache, he finds his arms are bound behind him. A patient man to a degree, he immediately begins to slowly wriggle his way free of the binds.
Nico is fine taking more time to get out of the binds. It just gives him more time to think of what he's gonna do to whoever put him here.
As he wriggles in his bonds, Nico takes stock of where he is. Small, cramped room, four similarly bound people. Familiar press of his spare boot-dagger and no one had bothered to take the shotglass tied around his neck. Gently rocking floor. Splooshing sounds from outside.
I'm at sea! This won't be as simple as simply killing the slaver that put us here, then, will it?
"Hey fellas. Did I drink too much or is the room really rocking?" Nico favors his fellow captives with a grin.
The drunken nature of his copatriot was blatant, and a drunken man was not going to free him from his bonds. Fortuntely there was a spell that could be used to remedy the effect. Murmering in rapid Abyssal and Aquan, Lorin Val asked for water...preferably from the river styx in the lower planes.
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"Hey now, thanks a lot! Dryness is worth its weight in gold aboard a ship, so thanks for that. I'll have you know that I am sober as a flute that happens to have drunk alcohol the night before."
Tightass doesn't know a joke when he hears one...
Gottagetouttaheregottagetouttahere. Never again. Never again, I said, and here I am again, wrists in chains.
"So, got any bright ideas about a daring escape plan?" Despite being drenched by the man a few moments before, Nico still manages to affect a wink and a grin.
Free me and the others then lets get to the business of escaping or commandeering this ship. And keep your voice down my own patron could hear you, and he lurks within the depths of the Abyss.
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The Abyss, eh? It really does take all sorts, doesn't it?
"Well, that was first on my agenda, but I don't want to be all untied and unarmed when the captain breaks in here, cutlass in hand, ready to gut us all. We haven't even seen the rest of the ship. As distasteful as bondage is, I think I'd like to at least take stock of the situation before we really take any chances..."
Grunt wakes up and groans, head lolling a bit to one side. He attempts to stand up, not making it very far, feet slipping out from under him. The ropes start cutting into his wrists as he pulls on them. He looks around and spots the others tied up, talking to each other. "ArgheRAH!" with a loud roar Grunt tries to break the ropes tying him up.
The ropes don't even budge making Grunt angrier. And he tries again with and even louder roar.
If this is a pirate ship, which I think it is a way out does open itself for our examination. If the captain in order to get crew is having to knock them out and drag em board ship, that means he ain't popular or successful. Kill him and the crew will mutiny, in the chaos we can either take over or we can escape.
"Hunhg-hmmmm," grumbles Grunt glaring at Nice but he quiets down a bit still struggling against his bonds.
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"Thank you, orc.
Now, you've got a point there, but we have no idea how many people are onboard this ship. As you say, it's probably not a full complement or they wouldn't need to press-gang folks, but it's probably more than five. Hang on a moment."
Nico slips out of his bonds fairly easily, having spent the better part of the past minute slowly wriggling. Then he gets into a crouch and scampers across the floor to the other prisoners, drawing the dagger out of his boot as he moves. He moves first to Grunt, and then to Lorin, and then the others, cutting their bonds with his dagger as quickly as he can. When he's done, if he finishes without interruption, he hands the dagger hilt-first to Grunt.
"You look pretty dangerous already, and I have a feeling you'd put our only weapon to better use than I.
Now, is this going to be a daring escape or isn't it?"
My patron gifted me with more then the mere ability to make ice cold water, he has given me quite a impressive set of powers. One will summon a mist which should make our escape fairly simple if we keep together, or if you would prefer to commandeer the ship allow us to find our weapons and armor. As I would wager with a decent weapon the orc could kill anything on this ship.
Nico struggles to inspect the room given the near total darkness. He can see that they're in a room that's roughly 70 feet long and 30 feet across. Hanging above them appears to be a slew of hammocks; it's hard to tell how many. Ahead, there appears to be a set up stairs leading up.
Having removed his own bonds, Nico moves around to cut through the ropes of his other companions. Starting with Grunt, he realizes that his diplomacy was doubly effective: the Orc had already torn his ropes apart, but appears not to have noticed. Nico quickly cuts the cleric's bindings, and goes to aid the two still sleeping bodies nearby.
Just as he goes to hand the dagger to Grunt, the sound of heavy footsteps heralds the arrival of several people. Suddenly, strong lantern-light pierces the darkness, temporarily blinding you all. A piercing pain goes through Nico's hand as the sound of a whipcrack echoes through the confined quarters. The sudden strike causes him to drop the dagger.
"Here I am, thinking ye're still abed with the sun over the yardarm, and the lot of ye are here running your mouths off? On this ship, words are for people who earn them. Now, on your feet ye filthy swabs! Get up on the deck and report for duty before Cap'n Harrigan flays your flesh into sausage skins and has Fishguts fry ye up for breakfast!"
When your eyes have adjusted to the light, you see a tall, thin man addressing you. Dressed in a long dark cloak and heavy boots clearly designed to impress, he still fails to leave an impression of strength or bulk. What is immediate clear however, is his malice. His thickly bearded face is twisted up in a sadistic smile, as if urging those below him to challenge him. The multi-tailed whip in his right hand is poised to strike again. Behind him stand seven rough-looking pirates, each equipped with saps and looking just as eager for a tussle.
The sudden change in altitude causes the whole world to spin, once again bringing bile to your mouth. It is clear that there is something wrong with you
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Knowing he'll be struck if he says another word, he stands up (slowly, so as not to incite suspicion) and nods to the man before kneeling to help his fellows up..kneeling perhaps a bit too low, however.
Bending low to give a hand to Lorin, he also attempts to drop a hand to the ground and pick up his dagger to place it back in its boot sheath.
Dagger placed, he pulls Lorin to his feet and swiftly moves to follow the pirate onto the deck.
There were many things that a fisherman knew, one of them was the pirates code and traditions. If that whip wielding idiot was caught cheating in a game of dice...the cheated party would have the right to duel and kill him on the spot. But how could he teach the orc to reckonize the signs of cheating and more to the point make it look like the idiot was cheating?
Grunt just stares, brow furrowed in anger, into the light waiting for his vision to come back to him. With a war cry he gets up and charges at the man with the whip, only to stumble to the right and trip over one of his new acquaintances barely catching himself against a nearby post.
Annoyed by the orc's clumsy charge and near collapse over his body, Lorin Val took the chance to whisper to grunt.
Scourge cackles in glee at the Orc's attempt to charge forward, failing to perceive the stolen knife or whispered words.
"Ah, I love the ones that fight... it'll be a pleasure breaking ye in. Now stop lolligaggin, the lot of ye!" At this, the gang of pirates move and man-handle their captives (both sleeping and awake) up the stairs.
The floor above appears to be a general storage area. Around the room are various crates and barrels stacked hap-hazardously. Against one wall are a series of caged pigs - panting against the gentle humidity of the hold - whilst 2 dismantled ballistae are tucked into one corner behind them. As you inspect your surroundings, you begin to piece together how you arrived here.
Having crossed to the aft of the ship, you are again dragged upstairs and two things become quickly apparent. Firstly, you are in the middle of the ocean. Squinting astern, Port Peril is no more than an ochre haze in the far distance. Secondly, you are not the only 'new recruits'. In addition to a larger group of pirates, there are four other fresh-faced and relatively clean people standing on the deck. All of them are crowded around the ship's mainmast and are staring up at two figures on the upper stern deck.
With a brisk shove, the bearded pirate pushes you all towards the group. "Be payin' attention to the cap'n now, or I'll happily beat the tar outta ya".
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Rolling his tongue around his mouth as he walks up the stairs, Nico tastes...nutmeg. Curious. He tries to think about what could have been in his mouth that tasted of nutmeg, but a particularly sharp spike in headache pain hits him.
Arriving on the deck of the ship, Nico casts his gaze around, taking in the wide ocean and the craft that bears him across it. He strains his eyes to look for the captain and to scan him for the type of man he is.
One of the men steps forward, nods to your warden and begins to address those on the deck below.
“ Thank you Master Scourge. And to the rest of you, I'm glad you could join us at last! Welcome to the Wormwood! My thanks for ‘volunteering’ to join my crew. 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 I don’t like your talk. Follow that rule and we’ll all get along fine."
Harrigan is a broad, muscular Garundi man with a shaven head, a long beard bound with gold rings and a patch over his left eye. There is a cold, hard intelligence behind his gaze. You are sure he is evaluating all those standing before him.
“Oh, and one more thing. Even with you new recruits, we’re still short-handed, and I aim to keep what crew I have. There’ll be a keelhaulin’ for anyone caught killin’ anyone. Mr. Plugg!" At this, he turns to the man behind him. "If you’d be so kind as to make pirates out of these landlubbers, it’ll save me having to put them in the sweatbox for a year and a day before I make pies out of ’em.”
Reckonizing a chance to talk to his copatriots, Lorin tapped them each on the shoulder and motioned them to a barrel where the rest of the crew was not around.
Harrigan notices Lorin gesturing to his two companions.
"You there! I've just instructed you to pay attention to Mr Plugg and already you're disobeying. That's no way to begin a career on my ship... can someone please teach him attentiveness?" One of the pirates behind Lorin jumps at the opportunity, striking him sharply in the back of the knee with his sap. The sudden force knocks Lorin to the ground, and will surely leave bruising.
"Good. Now mayhaps you'll lend Mr Plugg your ears? If that's too much trouble for you, we can always remove them at the bloody hour." Harrigan says this as a matter-of-fact, not with sadistic humour but as an honest threat. Mr Plugg on the other hand seems to relish the idea, a savage grin on his face.
The pain was annoying but it awoke something in him, an ancient demonic longing to inflict suffering upon all that was mortal.
Casting Doom spell on the pirate who just hit me with a sap.
Retrieving his holy symbol and holding it out before the pirate,Lorin watched as his spell began its work, a large holy symbol of Dagon appeared above the pirate and a single word spoken in Abyssal rang out across the ship.
Now in the name of Dagon, Shadow In the Sea I demand that you bow to me and accept a imporant reality: I have the power to heal flesh and bone and I can just as easily break flesh and bone. Do you hear me!?!
Intimidate check
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Pulling himself closer to Lorin as he begins his speech, but not taking his eyes off of "Mr. Plugg", Nico whispers:
Knowing that he has little time, he keeps the message brief and quickly leans away.
Got to remain patient. Wait for the perfect opportunity. Will only present itself once. Wait for it. Wait for it or die. Wait for it and kill.
Seeking to ameliorate any potential hostilities, Nico raises his hands in a conciliatory gesture towards Harrigan, flashes a winning smile, and says "You'll have to excuse my friend. He's more than a bit loopy and doesn't know exactly what he's saying. Whatever you slipped him probably has still got him in its talons."
Grunt stands seething as Harrigan, Plugg, and Scourge do what they do, not really reacting to anything going on besides a little scoff as the events with Lorin unfold. As Harrigan is talking Grunt looks around the ship for anyone who appears threatening
Bratix is not used to feeling hangovers. So she had wobbled up onto deck in a daze, fishing in her pockets in an at first lazy motion that becomes more frantic as she realizes none of her ingredients are on her. She scowls, coming up with a bottle of ink and a piece of twine and nothing else - the twine doesn't help right now and drinking the ink will just make her teeth black ... The light stabs at her eyes on deck, and the small, odd looking blue creature stretches her lopsided wings out with a sleepy, impassive blink at Scourge and Plugg and the Captain.
At the foreboding words, the once aggressive pirate falls to his knees and starts whimpering. "P-puh-please no! I hear you, I hear you! Forgive me!" he cries out amongst tears, his head pressed firmly to the deck. On or two other crewmen look slightly queasy at the mention of the Shadow In The Sea.
On the other hand, Mr Plugg is thoroughly unimpressed.
"Some fancy words and a shiny piece of jewellery and you think you have power? No. If your Dagon had given you any real power, you wouldn't be on Captain Harrigan's ship. If he gave you any real power we wouldn't even be having this discussion. No, I'll show you power. Master Scourge? Cut off his ears."
The bearded man behind Lorin strikes out with his whip, hitting him squarely in the back. The force again knocks the cleric to the ground (although the quivering pirate certainly doesn't notice). Two of the other crewman drag Lorin to the centre mast and tie him there with the thick, salt-ladened rope that surrounds the pillar. Mr Scourge reaches for a small handaxe that hangs at his belt, keen to follow orders.
Suddenly, Harrigan's voice rings out.
"Stop. That other one is right, no one could be that stupid. I think you must have dosed him too heavily with the taggit, Scourge, you do tend to be a bit heavy handed. Besides, he's no use to us if we can't tell him what to do" Harrigan looks down at Nico, somewhat amused at his liberal use of the word 'friend'. "Two lashes to knock some sense into him, and then put him to work if he is still standing. Of course, any more misadventure and you're entirely free to keelhaul him... or feed him to the sharks." At this, the captain turns and walks back inside his cabin.
Lorin's clothes are torn from his back to expose his flesh. An angry red welt from the first whip strike is already rising between his shoulder blades. With no formality, Scourge strikes. The first lash smackes against lorin's head, knocking him out. The second strike draws blood. The pirates around him whoop and cheer at the entertainment. Mr Plugg pays no attention to the punishment. He is seething, and glaring straight at Nico.
Non-lethal
[Ooc]You non-lethal has exceeded your HP, you're unconscious.
Take some lethal damage.
Scanning the deck for the most threatening people, Grunt is immediately impressed by Captain Harrigan. Despite being a captain, his bare chest reveals chiselled, defined muscles from years of labour. His every movement simmers with coiled power.
Two other individuals stand-out. A large Bonuwat man stares at the commotion with a scowl drawn across his face. His dark, curly hair is cropped short, as is his facial hair. His dressed in a simple sailor's clothes: a form fitting grey shirt and slacks. Despite this, his stance and garb emanate discipline. In particular, he seems aggravated at both Lorin and Plugg's mention of Dagon.
Surprisingly, the other possible threat is one of the other 'new arrivals'. The lean man stood attentively listening to the words of Harrigan, turning his right side towards them. His head is covered in a blue Varisian scarf that almost manages to hide the damage scar tissue where his left ear should be. A fresh bruise runs along his jaw, partially hidden by the facial hair cresting his chin. As soon as the conflict start, the scarfed man's fists clench as if prepared to join the fray. He only unclenches them when the lashings is complete.
Apart from this, most of the crew seem lean and hardened from continual labour at sea. They do not seem threatening as individuals, but in a group would certainly provide an insurmountable threat.
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As the captain began his speech there was a slight commotion behind you...
As a wirey Varasian is dumped out onto the deck by two pirates, you see a parrot settle into the riggings above, oddly paying close attention to what is going on. The crew-mates who dumped him there kick him in the ribs several times until he wakes up, at which time they pull him roughly to his feet. He sways there, with a confused look in his eyes.
This isn't my ship... where am I. Why do I feel so hung-over after just one glass of wine. Wait, where is Harrow??
The Varasian looks quickly up and around, but seems to relax as he spies the parrot perched in the riggin. As he relaxes you notice that his hand drifts to touch a small oiled leather pouch which seems to contain a rectangular object about the size of a deck of cards. With that, he turns and looks to the speaker.
Must be the Captain or Mate. Well, one ship is as good as another I suppose, and the last was begining to feel too much like home. This angry bunch seems to have been pressed into service much like me...
Seeing the unruly apparent-newcomer quickly beaten down, the Varasian drifts over towards the angry apparent-newcomers and whispers. "Now isn't the time to act if you're not happy to be here... we've plenty of time to see what is what on this ship and act accordingly when the Captain isn't looking to make examples. Follow my lead..."
His legs begin to adjust to the sway of the boat naturally. When the one that seems to be the captain takes a break the Varasian calls out, "Astein the Luckblade, here captain. I've worked as a ships cook and general sailor on several boats such as this. One boat is as good as another if your crew follows the Code. No the first time I've woken up on an unfamiliar ship... Just let me know if you want me in the kitchen or on deck."
Bratix seems genuinely non-plussed by most of the commotion. She fiddles with her little bottle of ink between her fingertips, and fluffs the feathers on her wings which seems to be a gesture indicating thought or interest. She yawns again, mostly ignoring the lashes, and just waiting for someone to address her. Being on a ship doesn't concern her much, though she is a bit upset about her stuff.
The pain reverberated through his dreams, but no pain could compare to having one's thoughts crushed by the presence of Dagon himself. He may not be loyal to Dagon but the pact's demonic influences were wearing off on him. His dreams starting to echo across his subconscious...he knew exactly what needed to be done upon his awakening...
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Nico flinches as the Lorin falls to the ground, unconscious.
"Shoulda kept his damn mouth shut.", he says through his teeth.
Still, he keeps his eyes firmly fixed on Mr. Plugg, awaiting instructions, only flicking his gaze aside for a moment with the arrival of the tall Varisian man.
Patience, Nico. Slavery is patience. Slavery is rage. Slavery is patience. Calm and clear will see you out of here.
Nico stands straight, awaiting instructions and flexing his fingers in anticipation.
Now that the captain is gone and the violent punishment resolved, you are able to pay attention to Mr Plugg. You notice that he is surprisingly young for a first-mate - no more than twenty one - and yet he already suffers from a vastly receding hairline. What hair does remain is pulled back into a greasy jet black ponytail. He is dressed in a royal purple long coat, bright gold epaulets donning each shoulder. At his waist hang a variety of instruments of torture, as well as a few sets of manacles. Grasped firmly in his right hand is a nine-headed whip, each head topped with a small barb. He seemed quick to anger: at Lorin for his interruption and especially at Nico for his boldness to address the captain.
He appears to calm down when Astein addresses him as 'captain'. Indeed, he sets his shoulders back and puffs up with pride, a wistful look spreading across his face. Just as quickly, it is wiped away and the a scowl returns to his face as he listens to the rest of the varisian's words.
"The Code? Barnacles to that. I'll tell you the only code we follow on The Wormwood." Plugg's words drip with sarcasm and scorn. "Rule number one: you're all dogs. When I say jump, you bark and I'll assume that it means 'Yes Mr Plugg'. If you don't jump high enough, or fast enough, you'll wind up like your friend here..." at the mention of 'friend' Mr Plugg spits on the floor "... getting a good beating from Master Scourge or myself."
"Rule number two: Justice is swift. If you're caught stealing from the officers or the crew, we'll drag you under the ship. If you kill a fellow crewman, we'll drag you under the ship. And if you keep talking to me without my asking, talking rubbish about some Code.... we'll drag you under the ship."
The thin man spreads his arms wide in a conciliatory manner, though the scornful grin is still plastered on his face.
"But we're not villains here. You work a hard days work, and we'll give you a decent meal, a place to sleep and as much rum as could drown a man in. Slave hard enough, and you might even become real crew one day." Both Master Scourge and his henchmen begin to laugh and guffaw at this. One woman in particular begins to giggle almost maniacally.
"Now, Fishguts did say he needs a chef's hand, but that fat slob can wait. I need a new rigger more. Let's see the five of you climb the mast to the crow's nest. Someone wake up the mouth fishmonger, and the first one to make it gets beaten the least." A nearby pirate grabs a bucket, lowers it via rope into the ocean and then pours the salty water over Lorin to resuscitate him.
The crowsnest you are told to reach is found at the top of the mainmast, some 60 feet in the air. A variety of ropes and metal pegs run along the mast, some attached to the sails themselves whilst others appear to dangle for no reason at all.
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Swiftly and silently obeying Mr. Plugg's orders, and only thinking a little bit about what a slaver like him deserves, Nico moves to the mast.
Suddenly surging into supernatural speed, he begins to climb the mast. He makes it up 50 feet of the mast fairly easily, but loses a handhold shortly afterward. Flailing about for a moment, he catches a new one but fails to make further progress because he was unnerved due to his near fall.
Still, he clears the last 10 feet in a burst of speed and makes it up the mast in just over 40 seconds.
initative check
even in his state of delerium Lorin Val was surprisenly quick, demons and by extension their clerics are resilient. In his haste he occasionally slipped but still he knew the ropes of a ship. As anyone who said fishermen just waited around for fish was delusional.
Edit the rolls for 5 foot increments
= 10ft
= 20ft
= 30ft
= 40ft
= 50ft
= 60ft
After sizing up the crew Grunt knows who his rivals are going to be. And none of them are competing with him on this climb. Grunt snorts as he takes off up the rope, easily pulling himself up the ropes with his immense strength. After he get to the top he looks down at his other ship mates and lets out a deep rumbling "laugh," throwing his fists nto the air finally letring out a victory cry. [b]RAAAAAAHH![b]
Bratix is slow getting started, fiddling with her twine a bit, and only scuttling to start climbing when it looks like she might get smacked for not moving.
She scrambles a few feet up the ropes and then...
She looks like she's trapped in the rigging, fluttering her unequal wings haplessly and making pitiful squirming noises.
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= 10 ft
= 10 ft
= 10 ft
= 0 ft
= 10 ft
= 10 ft
As Astein approaches the ropes, his hair suddenly begins to flail about him like living rope, reaching and grasping the ropes and handholds, propelling him more quickly up towards his goal than his body could alone. Though the hair slipped once, the overall affect is quite impressive and somewhat disturbing.
It would seem our err..."compatriot" is stuck, or at least making a good imitation of being stuck. While the pirates are busy tormenting her we need to plan our next move. Astein what magic do you possess? Same goes for you Nico that flagon is as obvious as the scar that will be on my backside for years.
Sense motive check
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This one will get us all killed if we follow his lead. If he can be persuaded to patience, though he could be a formidble ally as well... Let us see if he can be convinced to live.
Nodding to Lorin and listening before responding, Astein eventually says, "If these do not follow the Code, then we cannot survive long in their control, and I agree that something must be done. Luck only aids those who aid themselves. But we are working with days or weeks, not minutes or hours. They are ready and hoping for conflict now, and we don't have a chance if we fight them now, as they have already shown."
"We should learn the ways of this ship and the crew before we try to make a move. If you fight now you are a stranger and enemy of the ship and they will celebrate your death. However, a mate or captain of these sort will be hated, but feared by their crew... If we wait until we are at the advantage, much of the crew might aid us or at least stand aside when we assert our rights. Since they do not follow the Code, it will not be a mutiny but proper justice, but only once we adopt the code ourselves."
"But to answer your question, I am blessed and cursed by Fate to be the luckiest man alive as long as I am never home. Good fortune or bad are mine to command, along with some arcane might that can both aid myself or harm others. And if we are patient and abide by Besmara's Code, then my skils and arcane might are with you to remove this blight of a captain and mate."
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"What, this?" Nico holds up the little wooden shotglass tied around his neck.
Grinning, he continues. "This is just any old shotglass. I've found it's useful to have one, even when you don't got your flagon on you (which I usually do)."
Still, he thinks about Lorin's words. Shifting himself a bit on the mast to be a bit more comfortable. "I think...I think that we should bide our time. You know, where are we gonna go if we try to escape?"
Nico shouts down below to Mr. Plugg. "And when's the competition to climb down?"
Grunt doesn't like it at the top of the mast, there isn't much room for him up here with everyone else. He looks down upon the rest of the ship looking at what everyone else is doing.
rolls sense motive and knowledge religion While his own senses said that the man was not lying, his knowledge of the divine causes him to become alert. This Nico may not have the spells of a cleric, but gods and the other beings man worshiped had other ways of blessing mortals.
The captain is out of our reach tis I will admit, however the symbol of his authority Scourge is not. If I be guessing correctly Scourge is the type who will walk round the ship, looking for someone to whip...it would be so "tragic" if he were to take a swim don't you think?
Tis also one other thing that can be done to cause a ruckus among the crew, I am genuinenly sorry but the rum must burn. For that is probably the only substance on this ship that is actully drinkable. Without it the crew will become...desperate anyone or anything that can create water such as I will become an instant "savior". For when you hold the power of life and death over men they will obey any order, even one to fight against captain Harrigan.
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"....Are you seriously suggesting setting an alcoholic substance aflame aboard a wooden ship while we are at sea?"
Nico shakes his head at the cleric and begins to descend the mast. He had made it up after Grunt, so he clearly wasn't the winner, and was more eager to get to whatever work was assigned to him than he was to listen to more of the ramblings of this demon-worshipper.
Or at the very least dump it overboard...although if the captain's cabin went up in flames that would be an acceptable loss for the gain earned.
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Nico pauses on the mast for just a moment to say one last thing before continuing his descent.
"Well, you're free to try and find all of the barrels of rum, bring them to the deck of the ship, and throw them overboard if you please. I happen to like both rum and my life, so I won't be joining you."
Upon reaching the bottom, he addresses Mr. Plugg. "So, what's the next test to see what I get to do here?"
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Astein shakes his head at the odd priest. "If you want blood so quickly then spill it on your own. If you want to wait a bit before we take ANY action, then perhaps we can be allies and gain our freedom. For now, we should wait and learn... First offense he made an example with lashes. Rebellion again so soon will likely be fatal.