I give ye my word. She looks around and picks a member of the crew at random. Someone she think will follow her orders. Go with 'im
The crew member (one of her Sea Dragons) mutters as she walks past, "This better get me a bonus."
She saunters over and has the gun placed to her head. Slowly the whaleboat is brought up and a rope ladder thrown up. Carefully and with the gun pointed at his hostage, he climbs down into the boat. He does have to let go of the bigger gun, but holds the pistol close.
As soon as the two disappear over the rail Queshem says to Magner As soon as this bastard is trying to move from the damn ladder onto the boat, get Okum to grapple him and pull him under the damn water. If the hostage gets shot then Okum's job is to pull 'er to safey.
And if ye've got that spell that jostles the boat, then jostle it like Draflo did
As the fat man heaves himself over the railing the female sailor jumps for it, diving into the water as quick as a seal. Still,t he Tian man is quick and pulls the trigger on the pistol.
The gun fails to even fire and the sailor easily escapes. In a fit of fury the man throws the pistol at her, cursing his luck. Just as he does so Magner octopus boils out of the sea, grabs him and pulls him under. A stream of bubbles is all that remains as he is dragged under the ocean's surface.
Right. Hazard pay for that one. And extra whatever for Okum Queshem says briskly, nodding at Magner as she turns away from the rail. Now get Xiakon over here and some of ye help him and Draflo set up a healer's spot aboard here and get our crew up and runnin'. Patch up the slaver crews too but they be last in priority list and no wastin' good spells on 'em. Now let's deal with those out of sight of the sun.
She strides down and stops on the stairs of the hold making sure to stay out of arm's reach.
With her torch making a glow about her she says loudly over the din.
Oi, settle down, I'm in charge now. You don't trust me. Right. Fair enough. I don't trust ye either and that's fair enough too. This is what's going to happen. I'm going to be bringing a cleric down here soon and we're going to find the ones among ye are the most injured or sick, they'll be set free and we'll look after 'em. Anyone touching me or the cleric without our permission is going to get their arms cut off and ye'll be left to bleed to death. Do I be making myself clear? Also congratulations ye be a democracy now. Elect one of ye who be hale and of sound mind as yer representative and that one will be set free to speak fer ye. If ye can't come to a decision by the time we get yer sick and wounded out of this hell hole then I'll choose for ye? Right?
Behind her she spots Xaikon coming to the captured slaver. He looks visibly agitated by the death all around but Draflo is next to him, talking him through it.
Below, the slave hold is a barely contained riot. Even chained the slaves can sense freedom just around the corner. Queshem's crew is keeping order but barely.
Queshem's voice still is magically loud however, and she deafens them all into silence. After her words roll through, there is a moment of silence. Then they start chanting. "Rabbis, Rabbis!"
A figure stands up, with broad shoulders and scarred arms. She can tell instantly, it is the slave that grabbed her and threatened to kill her.
Of course it is.
Queshem snorts and looks right at the man. Ye show any violence towards me or mine and yer getting tossed overboard and none o the rest of yer mates get any voice. Understand?
If the man agrees she orders the sailors to break his chains and lead him upstairs under guard.
Hopefully the hold is somewhat quieter now. If so she goes back to the deck and addreses Rabbis Right. What's yer story? And what do yer people want?
Her crew venture over to the huge slave and mess with his chains. "He was already free, Captain. He...ripped the chains in two." The sailor's voice falters, then they lead him up on deck.
Queshem sees Draflo and Xaikon attending to sailors and slavers. A few are clearly dead or dying. The little tengu is praying over a man with a huge head wound.
Behind her she hears the heavy tread of the former oarslave. In the bright light of the deck she can see him better. He is huge, strongly built, but it looks unnatural, as if he wasn't always so. His skin, dirty and pale, hides his race. An sea of tattoos ranger around his chest and shoulders, little ships of all types. Some seem older then others, fading into blotches of ink.
The massive dark eyes feel like wells, deep beyond guess. Polos, one of his guards is holding his hands behind his back.
"My name is Rabbis. I have been a slave for many years. We want the obvious, freedom. Are you willing to grant it?"
Ye've got it, when we drop ye off at Bag Island. Queshem nods. Anythin' else?
The slave eyes her, "You strike the chains, today? Do you work for Raffles then? I see the broken chains flying, but you have the airof Abadar around you."
He looks around, the bright sunlight making his eyes squint. "Been many a day since I have seen the sun. She is still burning, this ease my mind."
The massive slave glances at the wounded slavers, 'What do you do with them?"
Ye be a perceptive one Queshem retorts. I do be Abadaran.
As for the slavers she grins First thing I'll do is chain 'em. Queshem nods at a few sailors to let them know it's an order. Then I plan to leave it to Raffles to decide. Now keep yer mates calm and let 'em know they'll be out of the dark and free soon as we make landfall. I meant what I said about making trouble now Rabbis. I judge ye know sailing asea requires order. Let 'im go for now Polos.
She looks around and starts giving orders. Get some carpenters here to do some field repairs on this stinking tub. Magner, Polos, you two will be on The Second Wind I want the hardiest and strongest of the Sea Dragons on this ship and we'll both make our way to the rendezvous point with The Deadly Bolt. Then on to Bag Island. We'll be sailin' so this one won't move fast that be certain. She gives Rabbis a look Unless it's an emergency I won't ask yer mates to row, fair?
Then she gives orders to sweep the ship, other than the hold, for valuables, she inspects the Captain's hold herself.
She has a chat with Xiakon and Draflo about the state of the wounded. Do they need to be kept on the slaver or can they be moved to the main ship?
Then it's on to the captain of the ship.
Well, Captain, feel up for a chat?
The former slave bows his head, 'Very well, I will talk to my comrades. I believe these terms would suit them." Polos, reluctantly, leaves him free and leads him back down into the hold.
They start making repairs ont he ship. Queshem notes, again, she needs to hire a skilled shipwright of some type soon. The repairs are not as fast or efficient as she would like. A considerable part of her ship's supplies go into repairing the vessel, which was poorly maintained.
Xaikon and Draflo advocate moving their own sailors back aboard the Second Wind but leaving the sailors. Draflo clearly considers the slaver a pox-ridden cesspool. Xaikon doesn't say much but Queshem notes a few words of Common in his speech. Tengu does look sick at the sight of so much blood however.
Queshem inspects the ship carefully. Officially there is very little. Lo Shei Wen's ran a tight ship . The charts are few and out of date, the instruments pathetic and even the ships cabin is tiny.
However, under a loose floorboard in his cabins he finds a sealed bronze box, solid metal. The keyhole is covered with scratches and marks. Otherwise it is a solid surface with no sign or mark.
As for the dwarven captain, he ignores her words and actually tries to spit on her boots, but his beard gets in the way.
Alright fix up the hurt slaves as much as ye can and then move our crew back to the main ship. Keep spells to remove Disease on yer and watch out for any spreading sickness. Draflo sweep the ship for magic afore you go though.
Queshem adds the mysterious box to her Handy Haversack.
The only valuable thing here is the damn ship itself.... that ram'll fetch a good price though I reckon. Good slavage that. Queshem comments.
Once the slaver is in passable shape she gives the order to start heading to the rendezvous point, which isn't far from Bag Island.
She orders the captain gagged and blindfolded. She has the instruments moved as part of their salvage, even poor instruments are worth some coin, and she lets the sick freed slaves rest in the cabin.
Queshem's orders are carried out although Draflo mentions treating the slaves has really depleted her medical supplies. Xaikon's skills, despite being green, have really helped and his magical healing has fixed up many of the usually worse injuries. The tengu, already considered lucky, to adopted by the crew fully.
Polos discuss the salvage agreeing the ram is the only useful thing. Magner, with his usual quiet (some might say sullen) skill, manages to get the slaver in tow, in order to save as much wear on her as possible.
Queshem has two visitors that night. Draflo and Rabbis.
Draflo has a sailor carrying a large wooden box. "I found something in the hold. Slaver branding irons. Magical ones, makes a permanent mark with lots of pain. Even in the Shackles, this is rare. It is imported Chelish stuff, I swear. What shall we do with it? I hate to say it, but it would turn a fair price if we sold it."
Rabbis on the other hand comes with an offer. 'Give us the vessel. The former slaves...give us the ship free and clear. Maybe a bit of supplies and that is all. We can sail her, no problem."
**Draflo**
Queshem puts her head in her hands and groans. I do no like that stuff but we do need the money. It be evil but burn me it's lawful. Keep it here. We'll sell it in some port other than Bag Island.
**Rabbis**
Queshem leans back and gives Rabbis a look.
Ye overreach yerself Rabbis. The ship's valuable and me crew would no understand why I be giving away their pay. Some of 'em died for the prize.
Draflo nods sadly and leaves.
Rabbis eyes Queshem, "Yes, but do you think we will be safe and clear on Bag Island? Even if the rumors aren't true, you'll be dumping 100 men with no skills and lacking....morals on them. You think we will be loved? Brig if we are lucky, back tot he oar if we aren't. A ship would give us true freedom."
Nobody be safe and clear anytime and anywhere Rabbis. Ye know this. Queshem replies If ye truly be their leader then ye'll be able to lead 'em on land as well as asea. Queshem stands up and taps her foot as she regards the strange man Ye threatened to snap my neck and even after I let that go and promised to free ye and treated yer sick ye come to me asking fer a ship on top of it all. The risk we took and the blood we spilled and the lives we gave should be enough fer ye but instead ye want a gift of the kind that kings give each other on top of it all.
She sighs and shakes her head I ain't a djinni that can grant ye three wishes. I have me own crew to look after. All I can offer ye is that after we sell what we can and I get them paid I'll give ye a loan to help ye partway to buyin' a keelboat. You have a hundred men. A hundred men who seem to want to go back out to sea. Get 'em laborer jobs and earn the rest to get them that ship. I'll talk to Raffles. He'll want to see the back of ye as much as I do I'm certain and maybe he'll kick in some to help ye out as well. If ye can't get yer own ship even with all of that help then maybe ye don't deserve to be a Captain.
The big man laughs then, a deep throaty sounds, rising from somewhere in that barrel chest. It sounds rusty and ill-used but good.
"I..I told them you'd say that." as he recovers his composure. 'The men, I mean. They begged me to ask you.They assumed since you had freed them, you were some soft pushover and you'd roll over and beg if I pressed you hard enough. I told them otherwise but....I did try. I can tell them that."
A long pause then, 'Thank you, for what you have done. Also, are you taking any slaves into your crew?"
Despite herself Queshem grins. Once we get to port I'll be having my two best sailors interview any who wish to join. Ye get through them and ye'll be welcome aboard. I don't brook any disobedience though. So keep that in mind
The big man nods, 'Fair enough."
It takes another day of sailing to reach the meeting point with the Deadly Bolt. After having been at sea for nearly a week the freshest fruit and vegetables are gone and the crew is already getting to the less enjoyable longer-term food. The prospect of Bag Island, and fresh supplies, sustains them however.
Soon enough they see the sail of the other vessel. She is riding well but Queshem's trained eyes can see some strained sails and salt-stains. Some rough weather must have hit her.
As they greet the other ship Tound confirms it. He calls it a 'minor squall' but he had to replace some rigging and sails. Behind his repairs and getting the slaver in order, both ships are low on supplies. Queshem still has some cash left over from her ooze run, but her generous portions to the crew have cut into it. Hopefully the ram will sell well.
Parcell and Tound are both impressed with the story of the taking of the slaver. Apparently Queshem did well, and they remark so.
A solemn moment is held for the dozen dead sailors, as friends (and lovers) from the other ship are informed of various deaths.
Alright me crew when we get into port. We're going to free the slaves a few at a time and let 'em disembark. Any slave that wants to join the crew is going to need to impress both Parcell and Tound which no be a small task. After that's all taken care of I'm going to go find the halfing that runs the place, see about selling the ship that we won fair and square. It was trying to sink us but we took it without damage and that's a feat we all should be proud of.
Queshem says.
She will also make sure to drop in on Xiakon and see how he's doing.
Parcell and Tound ask Queshem if she wants to be any part of the interview process.
The tengu seems nervous still, and shaky on the sea but he is visibly improving. He has a small crude shrine to Abadar set up in his room, which doubles as a shrine for the more religious members of the crew. His own needs seem very small, even for those aboard ship. A small hammock, a well thumbed holy book, a change of robes and that is all.
He is slowly picking up Common and the impression of the ship's crew is helping. He does ask, head held low 'Is it always so bloody?'
The two ships soon make it to Slipcove, capital of the Bag Island.The island was founded by Jolis Raffles, an ex-chelish slave. Raffles has since retired from the sea but is still an active member of the Pirate Council.
For many years now Bag Island has stood against the slavery chronic in the Shackles, and funds anti-slavery ships throughout the island chain. A magnet for halflings, Slipcove is the largest city of halflings anywhere in the Shackles, and even from sea Queshem notes the smaller houses and other architectural signs.
The city is not overly large, with over 1,000 souls but big enough for a small dock district for her crew to roister in. Gentle green hills surround the town filled with the island's famous export, honey.
As the ships tie on at one of the wharves, a small delegation of uniformed halflings (some armed) greets Queshem.
'Hello, unknown vessel!" they say politely. 'Name of vessel and captain?" One of them holds a large ledger, obviously checking some list.
Queshem will do a final interview of any slaves that get through both Parcell and Tound. She wants them to give her a final list.
Name be Queshem, Captain of The Deadly Bolt and The Second Wind. We be having quite a lot of recently freed slaves that we are going to be setting ashore in groups. A hundred or so. I be led to believe that ye lot would know how to handle 'em. Would I be wrong in that?
'Aye, but you have to pay the entrance fee. Every new ship, first time they dock has to pay a fee, to help upkeep the cost of the dock and Bag island." he names a sum which would basically wipe out all her savings so far and cut Queshem back down to an empty hold.
'That and follow the Bag Mandate." A parchment is passed up, stating the laws of Bag Island. Written by Raffles, it seems a fairly straightforward bit of law, prohibiting murder, arson, rape and the usual. Punishments seem to run more on exile then death or mutilation (making it liberal as far as the Shackles). Draflo agrees it is standard practice for the island but the docking fee is new to her.
Queshem sucks her breath in. May I come ashore and request audience with Raffles? As ye can see I be towing in a slaver that I and me crew liberated. Surely that count fer something. I was led to believe that Jolis Raffles supported slave breakers, not wiped their holds clean of all their savings!
The halflings become less friendly and the armed ones grab their weapons. 'Everyone pays the free, Captain. No exceptions. Pay it and then appeal if you so wish, but you aren't setting foot here without paying it."
Parcell, near by add, 'I think the toll is an old practice, Captain. Not just penalizing us."
**To Xiakon**
Bloody? Queshem sighs Xiakon that was a clean hit. I seen many ships go down and entire crews drown. We avoided that and only killed until they surrendered.
**Bag Island**
Queshem raises her hands in a placating gesture. Peace, peace. she says. I be Abadaran. It be in my nature to negotiate she has a thought I be paying for now and would respectfully request an audience then. That be making us square yes?
The halfling group visibly relaxes, "Yes, that will do well enough. I make no promises what Lord raffles may do, however." The lead halfling warns.
'Do you agree to the mandate and toll?" he asks formally.
The halfling writes Queshem's name and the ship's names in the ledger, absolving them from future payments.
'All ashore then!" the halflings say good-naturely and go back to patrolling the dockside. One, a younger runner, takes off into the city presumably to tell Raffles of his new appointment.
Queshem grimaces as her holds are emptied out, then she says Well yet another shore leave boys and girls. Let 'em know of how we freed the slaves and that should get ye some free drinks. Same rotation as afore.
She gets her orders on how the slaves are to be free carried out and gets Parcell and Tound to start interviewing those who are interested in joining.
She asks around for where Lord Raffles would be and gets ready to go there. She asks Draflo to come with her. Moving to some distance away from the ship she pulls out the mysterious bronze box from her sack. She casts Detect Magic on it herself.
What do ye make of this? Scratches make it seem like someone afore as tried to get into the thing and failed.
As Queshem casts her spell, the box starts to glow slightly. On the top of the bronze lid two green runes form. A stylized J and R, intertwined. After a few moments the runes fade and vanish. Rubbing her fingers along the lid, Queshem can feel nothing.
Draflo eye's narrow as she ponders the puzzle. 'I...I don't have the slightest idea what it is. I think you are right though. Judging from the marks and the even layer of grime, this box hasn't been opened in a long time. As for the runes, I don't know what they stand for. The initials of the owner maybe or the symbol of some group?"
As for Raffles, Queshem is informed he rarely leaves his sizable estate on the outskirts of Slipcove. if she wishes an audience, she will have to come to him. Going by the rumors the halfling captain has nearly become a recluse, rarely even setting out to sea these days.
Queshem grunts. So no easy riches to pay the crew then. Well, here's some research for ye to do. Ye want to come with to see Raffles?
The half-elf ponders these question a bit ans asks, 'What do you know about him? I heard some of the men talking about rumors that this may not be quite the paradise it sells itself as?"
They watch as the slaves are questioned by Tound and Parcell. The 'rejects' are greetings by halfings at the shore and seem to be treated well and with respect. She also noted Xaikon giving each departing slave an individual blessing.
No place's perfect. On the material in any case Queshem responds Hunger comes before principle for most everyone. And fer leaders the hunger of those who follow 'em weighs heavily on all but the most zealous. In case you didn't notice I just put us in a position where we be starving she shakes her head Need to get us out of this problem.
Draflo pats Queshem's shoulder, 'I doubt we'll be starving." Then she frowns, 'Although Tound and Magner won't be happy if we can't get some new sails and supplies."
Following some directions from locals, Qushem and Draflo head to Raffle's manor. The walk leads them through rolling green hills, dotted with orchards and beehives. The hives of insects buzz brightly around nearly every curve and Draflo looks a bit nervous.
'The stings...they make me swell up. Very painful."
But they encounter no other dangers and soon find the long, low building outside of town. Built of local white brick, it looks quite large and comfortable. Outside a simple gate are a few armed footmen.
'Turn in all weapons, please." the younger one says, then spots Draflo's component pouch. 'Spell casting of all kinds is strictly prohibited of course. Do you have an appointment?"
Naw, requested one by runner though. Queshem says handing over her very fancy crossbow. Would that be a problem?
The halflings take her weapons, and the older one shurgs. 'You'll have better luck seeing anyone that way." After a quick search for hidden daggers or vials, they were led inside to a well kept (but not gradiose) waiting room.
The walls are white-washed brick, and a few simple bits of furniture fill the room. two bookcases line the walls, and a cabinet with nice liquor completes it.
Draflo stands next to the broad picture window, looking out at the sunny grounds. 'This Raffles lives well." her wave takes in the building.
They wait for nearly two hours, growing more and more impatient. Finally, just as Queshem is ready to start making some noise, the door opens and a short, brown-haired halfling comes in.
He is wearing formal clothes, and his long mustache is perfectly tailored.
'Hello, my name is Jagen Greenbarrow, one of the Master Raffle's personal attendants. May help you?"
Queshem nods I be a new captain in these seas. Looking to make the acquaintance of the leader of Bag Island. I be having a proposal for him.
Greenbarrow's face creases into a frown, 'Master Raffles is indisposed at the moment. I can certainly hear any proposals for him." the little halfling quickly crosses the room tot he liquor cabinet.
'Would you like something, while you talk? I know the sea can sometimes be a dry place, pardon the joke." he smiles and nods to Queshem.
Queshem can tell the halfling is an untrustworthy obsequious little toad but he does seem to have some authority, a fact which he relishes. His sly features carefully guard his actual emotions however.
He holds up a bottle of fine Andoran brandy. "Will you take a glass?"
Draflo looks about to say yes.