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Barbarosa sighs deeply. This Lanvi woman is not paying me near enough for this s%#*. Still, if this sea creature can get us moving again... "Very well, if you four will guarantee the crew's safety, she may come aboard," Barbarosa throws his hands up in the air and storms up the stairs to the aft deck, taking the wheel as though the ship might start moving at any moment.
Barbarosa glares disapprovingly at George, but he has not for one moment forgotten about Arimar and the zombie he has brought on board. Cheeky f!&*er, pretending that it's the most normal thing in the world. If only Mtumbwi were here, he'd know exactly where to put his foot in that skinny, smug bastard son of a whore.
"Yes Ciarán," nods Barbarosa, "An excellent suggestion. The bight. One week. I shall moor the ship out there and await your arrival. If another week passes and we see you not, I shall assume you are all dead - or lost (which probably amounts for the same thing)." Barbarosa hefts himself up, fills his mug from the mammoth's head and makes to leave, "I'll be back tomorrow when you've figured out your cocks from your weasels."
"Well, I guess it's not the worst plan I've ever heard," Barbarosa addresses the companions. The last hour spent on dry land seems not to have improved his attitude at all, "The Audacious will be ready for you off the coast whenever you need her... but you have to do me a favor first. Since the natives love you so damned much, see if you can figure out if there are any dangers along the coast. Their longboats don't go far but they can at least stay within sight of land. I'm hoping they've been out of the bay." Barbarosa takes one last pull from his tankard. "Elon, this grog's great! You should have tried the sweetened piss they tried to feed me last time I was here."
"Gratum! Great to see you're on board. I've never seen a dwarf as quiet as you've been," the captain remarks as his engineer steps forward, "So, it seems Tanaroa is still the direction to go. Shall I set sail for there, or will we try to find another village on an uncharted island? Actually, I think I remember the Tanaroans talking about a few more villages near them on that peninsula there. We could always land south and you could trek upward inland." The bitter expression on Barbarosa's face shows everyone what he thinks of walking when there is a ship available. "Oh, yeah, and sorry about sending Sea Legs out with no warning, too," Barbarosa adds, "It seems poor Wrigley has a case of cabin fever. In an odd manifestation, he refuses to leave his cabin now. He's locked himself inside and won't talk to anyone - except through a song and dance routine. Luckily, there was a bit more to Sea Legs than his lost lunch."
"You know," begins Barbarosa meaningfully, "I do believe the Tanaroan natives had a Zombie Master also. It rings a bell. He didn't come to any gatherings while I was present, though, so maybe I heard wrong. "As for trade goods, I mentioned earlier that they liked steel. We've got plenty in the stores below. You'll just have to negotiate with the Colonel for anything of martial value." The captain considers leaving it at that, but eventually adds, "Don't beat yourselves up too much about Dawa. It's not a proper expedition until you get chased off by at least one group of locals!"
Having fled from the natives' undead brethren, the specialist crew of The Audacious row swiftly back toward the ship. They can see that the crew who remained behind are frantically making preparations to come rescue them but halt when the undead simply stand there at the beach and go no farther. The animate corpses keep a silent vigil over the group's retreat. "Ha! You weren't there for very long before being chased out," Captain Barbarosa doesn't seem terribly concerned or surprised as he greets the companions when they are once more aboard, "Who was it that mucked it up - or was it a group effort?" He smiles slyly as he attempts to figure it out for himself.
"You?! Ha! We'll have to hear that tale over dinner tonight," he winks at the archaeologist before turning to address everyone, "Set sail, then. I guess we're off to Tanaroa - unless you've got other ideas. Perhaps you'd like to practice your skills by talking to another village before attempting diplomatic overtures with the one beneath the great wall. "I'll tell you one thing, though: you'd best figure out your approach before you go at it again. If you lose the favor of the Tanaroans, you lose easy access to the mainland. You'll want to hear their stories, too, if you want to know what you're likely to face beyond that safe, enormous wall of theirs."
"Dawa, ey?" Barbarosa runs his hand through his beard, "No fear of cannibals, you lot! Well, let's get to it then." The Captain barks orders at the regular crew, and soon The Audacious is sailing around the outlying island and into the bay. The village is only barely visible even when they close in on it. The occasional peak of thatch and the unmistakable waft of smoke from within the dense jungle is all that gives it away. Several sea-going long canoes with tightly curved bows and prows can be seen pulled up along the sandy bank. Despite the fact that it is the middle of the day, no people can be seen. "Weigh anchor!" cries Barbarosa when they are about a quarter mile from shore. He turns to the specialists, "The sand bank goes out too far, and there is nowhere for a ship that displaces this much water to pull ashore here. You will need to take the rowboat. It has room for a dozen - so if you want more than the eight of you, you can have four. I need my cook - but you can take his apprentice. I'll need at least one guard with us on the ship, but would prefer more. Up to you. I'm just the sailor!" Captain Barbarosa winks at them. At the mere mention of coming ashore, Sea Legs Billiam rushes next to the specialists - a look of hopeful expectance upon his face.
"There she is!" having ordered the sails to be doused, Barbarosa leaves the wheel for a moment to stand on the fore deck with the rest of the crew, "We are here. The Isle of Dread! Ha!" The ship drifts a while toward the group of islands while everyone takes in the view. "Well," Captain Barbarosa says at last, turning to the eight specialists, "I got you here, next bit is yours. We've got the village of Dawa, which was being attacked by cannibals last I was here, and the village of Tanaroa, which was hospitable enough. We've also got any number of unexplored islands, or alternative spots to pull ashore. Up to you how you wish to proceed. Discuss it amongst yourselves, I'm taking a break!" The captain heads for his quarters, "Weigh anchor!" he yells just before ducking through his door. It is then that the crew wrack their brains for the last time they remember the captain actually going to sleep, "Oh, and George, we really need to know where we are now, so if you haven't found that sextant by the time I wake - you'll be taking the plank."
The only one outside of the canopy is Barbarosa, who grins even wider as a protective air bubble envelopes him. "..." comes a message to Mtumbwi and Gado. "You mean I have to whisper at our moment of... and... ye gods this is difficult. Tell the lads - loudly - well f&*!-ing done! Then immediately tell them to man those winches, we're gonna need some extra oomph to get out of this thing when we reach the bottom." The bottom of the maelstrom was a long time in coming, and The Audacious must have plummeted more than a mile by the time the fall is finally arrested. Scrambling back to to their posts after falling over, the crew wind madly on the winches and The Audacious is propelled forwards and out of the Maelstrom.
As The Audacious plummets deeper into the ocean, Barbarosa holds fast to the wheel. The rushing sea causes his long hair and beard to flail madly about his face, lending him the aspect of some kind of bushy sea anemone. Amazingly, the man's hat is still on and his grin has returned.
For a while, the seas seem to calm somewhat. The wind does not whip the sails so maliciously, and the undulations of the sea while still large by any measure feel almost relaxing compared to only moments ago. Wary of having any more crew members washed overboard, Barbarosa orders everyone who wishes to stay above decks to be tied off with a rope. Those above are surprised (or perhaps not) to find ropes already tied to masts and other sturdy structures with proper buckles on them for strapping oneself in. . After short while of calmer seas, Barbarosa's eyes widen as he inspects the hand signals from Nelenquessir atop the crow's nest. "Well done, men! Now comes the hard part. Hold onto something! It looks like we're going dow...." Before the captain can finish his sentence or the command to enter underwater mode that no doubt would have followed, the Audacious pitches forwards unexpectedly and takes a nose dive. The island-sized maelstrom sucks The Audacious into the depths of the ocean, the suddenness shocks even the seasoned captain, who eventually makes the motion to convert to underwater mode. Too late, however, as decks on all levels fill almost instantly with water. The masts strain to pull inwards and the canopy refuses to raise. Everyone inside The Audacious and above is battered as water rushes in and over them suddenly. Everyone is forced to steal a breath quickly before the last of the air bubbles escape from the forcibly submerged ship.
Captain Barbarosa looks around at the flames, and for the first time since the storm began the crew note that he is no longer as happy as a pig in swill. "Put her out, damn you! Fūck the wounded men, we'll all drown if she goes up in flames!" he barks down at the deck below, "Man the buckets you layabouts! Get those fires under control!"
:
"We've got it, lads!" shouts Barbarosa over the wind and thunder, "Ha! Ha! Nothing can stop us now!" On queue, a powerful bolt of lightning strikes the ship, inches away from Elon's face. "Someone pull that lightning rod of a dwarf back in before he gets himself electrocuted!" Barbarosa orders anyone who'll listen. The Plank obliges and hauls Elon back to the main deck. On board, the drenched ship carries water to crew members both above and below. Several deckhands and other crew are knocked over with burns all over their bodies. The parts of the ship that were not covered in water combust! "Fire on board! Get to it!" screams Barbarosa when he sees the smoke pouring out from below.
"Come on men!" cries Barbarosa, "She's trying to suck us in. I'd like to oblige the bïtch... and now I think we've found a way to avoid her teeth! Let's get ready for the ride of our lives! Ha ha!" The captain appears to be absolutely loving the thrill of the deadly storm, and the minor victories his crew are scoring. Those on board get the distinct feeling that this was not how it went the first time around.
Left and right, the deck hands are pulling on things at the captain's behest. Only the armored mercenaries below don't make an appearance above decks. Through it all, Captain Barbarosa hangs on to the wheel, his beard whipping his face as he laughs like a madman. Amazingly, his hat remains firmly planted upon his head. "Come on Gozreh you stinking bastard! Is that the best you've got?!" he cries out. Lightning lashes a nearby wave to indicate firmly in the negative, "Ha! Better!" The Audacious pitches and groans as the ocean threatens to tear her apart, but Barbarosa remains firmly planted by the wheel. Those with keen eyes notice that Barbarosa seems to have once more strapped himself to the deck.
"Looks odd?!?!" shrieks Barbarosa from where he is, "That's all you've fūcking got for me? What have I hired you for? Descriptions, man!"
"I hope you've had a chance to void your bowels recently!" cries Barbarosa, "Because if not, get ready to shït yourselves! HERE IT COMES!!!!" An unholy blast of wind hits the sails. It smashes into the ship and tosses it about like a vicious ogre playing with a child's toy. Any normal mast would have snapped instantly, but the magical wood and expert craftsmanship keep it upright. This has interesting implications for the ship as it is occasionally skipped sideways on the surface of the sea. Rain and hail pelt down upon the exposed decks.
Captain Barbarosa listens to the explanations regarding these three fellows, and shakes his head, "Well, I haven't approved it. We might need muscle, but they can stay here in... Mtumbwi... why are we moving?" Barbarosa seems to notice for the first time that The Audacious had already left port... on his orders... about five hours ago. "Well, I guess we're keeping 'em then! Next stop, the Eye of Abendego and certain fūcking death! Ha!" the captain cries, suddenly in good spirits. He leaps up the stairs to take the wheel, grins... has a funny expression come over his face, backs off a few steps, leans over the stern, pukes and then returns to the wheel.
"Gratum! Good of you to speak up, man... err, dwarf," the captain winks, "Your building and engineering nouse is exactly why you were hired. Just make sure Mtumbwi doesn't see you if you decide to tinker while he's not there! I'd hate to see you suffer a foot insertion like Harlan did - that'd make you sicker'n the worst sea sickness.... or cure it! Ha!" I wonder if Mtumbwi is going to the cock fight so he can 'see some action' or so he can 'fock'? Probably both. I am so glad I dictated the aesthetics of my ship to that man rather than going with his suggestions. Your instincts served you well, there, Rory. Very well.
"Excellent!" Barbarosa cheers when the specialists have described their abilities . "Helpin' the injured get back on their feet will be most useful, Elon. Thank ye." The captain pats the dwarf on his shoulder. "Not much cause for fishing in a storm as you say, Bazsil, but climbing and scampering and looking out will be most valuable," he gives the man a stern but somehow sympathetic look, "Let us hope we don't need ye to swim! "Ye're a brave man to offer to climb the crow's nest in a storm, Ciarán," the captain nods appreciatively, "The mast will slip down when we submerge, but I could still use some eyes above decks. Looking at the compass and ahead. It'll be a rough ride... but I believe if anyone is stubborn enough t'hold on, it's you! Ha! "And Mtumbwi! I'm sorry to have hurt you, my friend," the captain seems sincere, "Your skills are well known to me and will be valued as ever. We owe The Audacious herself to your fine craftsmanship." Barbarosa smiles as the ever modest Wrigley finishes his 'meager' offerings, "An understanding of the natural world is ever helpful at sea, Wrigley. It will be good to have yer brain on my side. More importantly, though, I would never underestimate the importance of a good sea shanty! Keeps everyone working in time. You'll do fine. "Gado, I wouldn't worry about running around - we've got plenty of deckhands for that. Your encyclopedic knowledge of... 'most everything... is plenty to offer," Barbarosa grins, "But I'm glad you've got some spells that will help out, too! Great t'hear." Barbarosa stands on the table, holding two enormous bottles of rum, "Now, " * * * The following morning, three burly and well-armed men smartly salute the captain on the deck as he rises from his quarters with a severe hangover. "Who the bloody hell are you three?!"
The air is thick inside Barbarosa's cabin. The captain is enjoying an evening pipe before he finally puts his head to rest. The Audacious is underway again and all is well with the world. Then the interruptions begin. The first is Platonious. Barbarosa listens to his complaints. "Take it up with Elon! He's the damned fool who decided you should see our secret operation in person," grumbles the captain, "Now get yourself back below or make yourself useful. If you decide to be of use, you'll earn a fair wage. We can let you off at Azir, if you like. Now, out of my sight!" Gavin is next. "Three Cocks, I don't even know where to begin with your troubles," Barbarosa looks exasperated after the deckhand's moaning, "Suck it up and find some other man to fūck. I don't care if you like his curls and lithe rippling muscles the best of all. If you ever bring something like this to my attention again, I'll get the Plank involved... and for the gods' sakes man, we've got women on board now. I didn't realize after our last journey - though perhaps I should have - that you preferred to shag men!" One-footed Dave has a go, but doesn't get too far before... "I don't fūcking care what he's asking you to prepare for his yak! Just show him the supplies we brought for the thing and cook for the people on board." Barbarosa dismisses him, but calls for him to hold up at the last minute, "And I know the boy needs to learn, but if Jeff prepares another fish stew for me, I'm gonna make you eat it. Teach the boy another recipe for fūck's sake!" Fourth up is Nelenquessir. "You have to take what Mtumbwi says with a healthy pinch of salt," Barbarosa cautions, "I genuinely don't think his foot would fit in there, but I really wouldn't press the matter: while I don't think it would fit - I'm not so sure Mtumbwi wouldn't try... and yes, I would take the man's threats literally." The next interruption comes from Aaron Donal. "Well that's too bad, Donal," Barbarosa shakes his head, too tired to be bothered with the linguist's heartfelt and flustered complaining, " I hired you to teach languages and if you can't manage to say 'no' in any of them, then you'd best prepare some fūcking private lessons on Azlanti and also grade Aeslin's fūcking homework while you're at it." Lastly, once Barbarosa has finally gone to bed, George discovers the captain is a very light sleeper. "Boy," he begins with his eyes still closed and turned away from where George is held frozen in terror, "Get ye out of here and I'll pretend this never happened. You are now responsible for all of my possessions. If I lose anything, you will find it for me. I don't care if it's stolen or I accidentally dropped it into the fūcking ocean. Nothing of mine goes missing for the rest of the journey. Got it?" The closing of Barbarosa's cabin door is the only reply. I love it when the fools try to steal from me. I wonder what I'm going to make go missing first...
A few hours after seeing The Audacious for the first time, all crew members are called to the main deck to make ready for the off. "Thank you everyone for coming on this journey," Captain Barbarosa begins in an authoritative voice as he ascends the stairs to stand behind the wheel, "This journey will change your lives. We are traveling to the center of the Eye of Abendego and to a land forgotten by history. We are going to travel into the heart of the biggest and most persistent storm in all of Golarion, then to the Isle of Dread where we will uncover its secrets. Death is a real possibility. Glory, however, is a certainty! Now, if you have a station, get to it! If you do not, get out of the way! Mtumbwi, cast off!" The anchor is raised and The Audacious starts to move forwards. The specialists look around to see the regular crewmen working what look to be winches at various places around the ship. The boat is propelled forwards by something unseen below the waterline. Slowly, The Audacious winds its way around a few short bends and through some massive steel gates. The gates close ponderously behind the ship with a massive thud, sealing the ship off from the canal and tunnel it came from. For a while, it seems as though nothing is happening. Gradually, though, the water level rises and The Audacious travels upwards through circular opening in the ceiling and continues for some time. Another set of enormous steel gates greets the crew at the top of the shaft, but the water does not stop rising. "Underwater mode!" orders the captain. Suddenly, each of the masts collapse like a spyglass and the railing seems to expand and grow. A protective ironwood shell envelops the upper deck of the ship. Barbarosa is outside of the shell, however, and those above note that metal tentacles grab ahold of his feet and a shimmering bubble appears around him when he stands at the wheel. Moments late, the shell pulls together and surrounds the ship. Just before ceiling of the shaft would crush the newly converted vessel, it sinks into the water in flurry of bubbles. The gates open and the crewmen rotate the winches furiously. The Audacious travels forwards once more. The underwater scene visible outside of the portholes is nothing short of incredible. Mtumbwi speaks a command word, and the winches begin to spin of their own accord. The crewmen return to their regular stations, making sure the integrity of the ship's extended hull is maintained. Faster and faster, The Audacious ploughs through what must be a series of underwater caverns leading out of Magnimar. Soon enough, only open ocean is visible outside. Fish swim past and the whole scene is strange and surreal. Minutes later, Barbarosa's voice can be heard whispering in everyone's ear, "Prepare to surface!" There is a lurching sensation and then suddenly, it is over. The protective canopy pulls back, the masts raise. Men scramble all over the deck and unfurl the sails. In a matter of minutes, The Audacious is skipping along the waves leaving the City of Monuments slowly sinking below the horizon behind it.
"Great, you had to say my name!" scolds Barbarosa as he turns to whisper to the Plank. When Barbarosa finishes his whispers, the Plank moves forwards with purpose. "Kind of the reverse of your usual, I know," the captain says to his departing dogsbody, "But necessary, I assure you..."
Captain Barbarosa comes up on deck at that moment. "Did someone say they were bringing rats onto this ship? Who the f*ck is that halfling?"
Notes for Mtumbwi:
Boat features! [list] "Your 'stuff' is already on board, Gado," Barbarosa answers, "I had Markus set it up as best he could." The captain smiles and shrugs. He knows next to nothing about wizardry beyond what he can purchase. "Bazsil, everyone sleeps belowdecks," Barbarosa answers for Mtumbwi, "But you can set your hammock up there if you like."
Barbarosa eyes Bazsil, hardly put at ease about the situation. "Watch it, there," he warns with narrow eyes, letting Bazsil know that the matter is not yet quite forgiven and far from forgotten, "Once you step on my boat, the captain demands more respect. There is a fine line between innuendo like that and mutiny. It would be a shame to have to see how far a man like you can swim on the open sea." Elon's words seem to mollify him somewhat, but he is distracted and grumpy for a while after. The captain hears what Wrigley has to say about the cultists, but he becomes restive before the halfling has finished. "Well, it sounds like you struck a blow against them in any case - and the only shipwright who matters is coming with us!" he declares at last, "Time to move on." Barbarosa indicates that the nine specialists should follow him. The captain pulls up a trap door in the floor, leading down to a reinforced underground tunnel. "Not sure why the dwarf thinks he can name his yak my first mate, Mtumbwi," Barbarosa pulls the man aside, "But as soon as we're off to sea, it will be you at my side helping with the navigation. Elon can call the yak whatever he likes." The tunnel winds around, avoiding the sewers. From the foul liquid that occasionally drops onto the companions, it is most likely below the sewers. Eventually, the tunnel begins to open up and head upwards. Just over around the corner, everyone sees the rigging of a ship. They are still be below sea level, but there it is - even further below them - in a massive underground cavern. The ship sports triangular sails, which several men are in the process of furling. The small, sleek dual-level hull with modest quarters in the stern. Aside from woodwork that shows absolutely no seams, the ship looks like an ordinary - if well-made - caravel. Barbarosa beams. "Well! Lads! There she is. The Audacious!" he announces proudly, "What do you think?"
"I already died once under your watch!" the captain yells, before looking down at those who had so selflessly rushed to bring his killer to justice. He deflates somewhat but doesn't sheath his cutlass, "And now Jakob has died twice. Begged for it, you say? In pain? Perhaps my anger is misplaced. Perhaps I should be angry at myself for not having the stones to do it myself. Still, I thought they might be able to cure him of... whatever that was." Barbarosa jumps down from his perch and places his blade on the table. "Maybe you have better news on the cultist front. Tell me more about what you found there. Aeslin, since you've charmed the boy, ask him if he's involved with the Cult of Norgorber. If he says no, let's hire him. We'll need all the hands we can get. Turns out it's a smidge harder to recruit a crew to sail to a mythical Island when you're dead than I expected."
"Mercy... for..." Barbarosa stares at Bazsil, uncomprehending for a moment, "You fūcking killed him?!?!" Captain Rory Barbarosa stands to his full six feet of height and menacingly steps up to the top of the table whereupon he draws a massive cutlass. He is fuming and those present think he might attempt to behead Bazsil where he stands. "Explain yourselves," he looks back and forth between Bazsil, Gado, Elon and Barley, with his pointed cutlass leaving no doubt as to which he was looking to at any given time, "Explain why my anthropologist, my lore keeper and my fūcking naturalist are out euthanizing my former fūcking crew!"
"My dear lad, The Audacious has more than one cabin!" laughs Barbarosa, "You can both come."
Barbarosa appears from behind the crates in the rear of the warehouse. The slamming of some kind of wood on a hollow opening, like a trap door closing, marks his approach. Unlike last time, he looks hale and hearty - as vital as the first time you met him. He smiles broadly as he strides into the main cargo bay. "Well, I see you've all met our on-board shipwright Mtumbwi!" Barbarosa smiles as he claps the shipwright on the back, "He's a very useful man to have on board. I don't want to get stuck on the Isle again having to make improvised repairs to the ship for our return journey. This man will see to it that everything on The Audacious is ready for our journey there and back again." Barbarosa sits down on a dining chair, and puts both legs up on the table. He gestures for the companions to join him. "So, tell me, how was Jakob? I see you've seen fit to replace him with an ornery bovine. Also, did you find out anything about those cultists who wanted my body so badly?" Aeslin:
The boy does Aeslin's bidding, and even manages to obtain a 2gp discount on her behalf! Love that Aeslin is trying to cloth Mtumbwi!
Barbarosa gave him one, last appraising look. So innocent. So easy to manipulate. Does he see through the ruse, or did I fool him? Time to roll the bones. “Sure. Five days it is. By the Gloomspires where that half-orc Venture Captain from that Pathfinder Society is always looking for those lost Azlanti treasures. Well, before I go, you left this. Thought that I’d give you back what is yours. This time, it will be your own choice. To choose me, and The Audacious. May Desna watch over you... and Gozreh too.” Barbarosa flips a small, worn leather pouch in the air, before turning and walking out.
”Mtumbwi, now you are being obtuse. Why do you shun my offer of generosity?”
”Stop you? Why would I? I came for you. I had no idea you sheltered a boy here. The diviner said nothing of this. Come. I will take you to the mainland. We can travel to a temple; drop off the kid as you say, then come back with me. Come help me run my ship,” Barbarsoa finished with a smile.
Barbarosa looks up at Mtumbwi, ”This child is a gift from your god. And you jest? You cower on this rock like some puffin? He is god-touched. Destined for greatness.”
Peeking around the corner, on a woven straw mat, was a robust boy - not more than five years of age. Barbarosa noted his closed eyes and the shallow rise and fall of his chest. The kid was blissfully asleep. Clever. The loud chimes outside would have drowned out any noise this kid might make in here. ”Mtumbwi,” Barbarosa began in a gentle voice, ”Tell me.”
As Barbarosa strode forward to enter the hut, his mouth filled with the taste of blood. Spitting, the coppery taste overwhelmed his senses. He tried to ignore it as best he could. ”Mtumbwi. On second thought, water would be good.” Kn Religion: The taste of blood in the mouth is indicative of Gorzeh’s disfavor
”You will do no such thing. Take your head out of your arse. What have you gotten yourself into?”
”Us? What the hell are you talking about?” Straining to understand, Barbarosa looked once again at the chimes. The traditional symbol of Gozreh. He gave that up. I remember. He just said it too. ” Mtumbwi” he began, like addressing him like a child. ”What are you hiding? What have you done? Tell me and I can help you out of this.”
”What boy? I came here for . I need my mate back.”
”Whoa whoa. Hold on.” Barbarosa implored, thrusting his hands in front of and waving the man off. ”What are you talking about?”
”Fine. You are a craftsman. That burned lumber I passed. Week or two and I am sure it will be a dhow fit for a prince of Osirion. Just need …”
”Ahemm, well neither, though thank you for at least being civil. Real progress there. So, to get to it then. I need you back. None can fix a ship like you, none can pilot a ship like you, and hell man, cover your dick!”
”My old friend, just like that? Cut to the meat. No ‘Nice to see you.’ ‘How is The Audacious?’ ‘Can I get you some,’ what the hell do you drink here? ‘Some food?’ Anything?”
Barbarosa looked about him. Rocks, plenty of those. Rotting wood, everywhere. Piles of shells and fish bones, too many to count. What a dump. Is this how you live now my friend? ”Please, let me parlay if you will.” Barbarosa dug into his pocket and produced a stark white handkerchief which he lifted up and waved in the stiff wind.
”Hee hee,” Barbarosa laughed, ”Mtumbwi! Put that fish poker down. Is that anyway to treat your old friend upon his arrival to your kingdom? And can’t you find a loincloth or a pare? Are you going Sky-clad or Sea-clad?”
Captain Rory Barbarosa pulled his shallop to a stop on a small patch of sand surrounded by a tumbled-stone laden rocky shore. He stepped lithely from the prow onto a slippery patch of algae covered rock, his polished leather boots gripping just enough to prevent him from pitching into the salt-sea below. His immaculate naval-livery flapping gently in the stiff breeze made a *ppffffttt* sound before he buttoned up his overcoat. He skipped from rock outcropping to intertwined, half-decomposed log, carefully choosing his path upwards. At one point he needed to traverse a 15-foot log, scorched on top as if by lightning. Next to it rested a stone-faced axe, and other crude instruments designed to carve out a dhow. Good, he still has it in him: the desire to create. After climbing for a few minutes, he finally reached a semi-circular area about 30 feet in diameter, relatively flat, with a palm-woven lean-to resting again the rock face behind it. Whale bone, scrimshaw, and polished coral tubes, tied with some dried seaweed, dangled from the corner of the lean-to, clinking together to form a continuous melody. Barbarosa picked up an egg-sized rock and threw it as hard as he could against verdant wall of the lean-to. *POOOP!*
Before the newly hire specialists leave, Captain Barbarosa produces eight purses bulging with gold and trade gems. "Enjoy!" he cries before putting on a clearly mock serious expression as he waggles his forefinger at the assembled crew, "But don't forget to keep your receipts!"
"Okay, so we've almost got our full complement. I just need a chef and a cartographer, the sailing crew's mostly done... great!" Barbarosa turns to the assembled specialists, "So, let's quickly go over your role assignments. Ciarán, you'll be the group's bodyguard. Not guarding anyone in particular, but... well, you know what to do. Bazsil, you're the anthropologist. Matters pertaining to humanoids - human or non - and society in general, you're our man. Heh. Now, Aeslin, I think you're best suited as our archaeologist... not that we'll necessarily be digging anything up. You've got a fine grasp of history and rituals. "So, Gratum, you're our builder obviously. No need to tell you what you already know on that front! Gado, you're our lore keeper, no doubt about it. Anyone who can show Marcus up on that front is someone I want at my side when delving into matters arcane. Sumaru, you'll be our guide. What am I saying, you are our guide! You've already stepped into the role. Well done. Elon... umm... naturalist? Yes, naturalist. Matters pertaining to the animals we meet, I'm sure you'll know what's what. "And last... that's Wrigley. Yes, you'll be a fine diplomat. Words can be far more important that martial might. I hope you won't mind also taking on the role of the ship's musician while we're at sea? I've got you down for both..."
"We already have some items in the ship's stores that can be used for the benefit of the whole expedition," says Barbarosa with a frown, secretly admiring Ciarán's thrift, "I don't have an exact inventory on me, but there are some curative wands and potions, the aforementioned scrolls to help with language barriers, some items to help with swimming should that be required and of course, restoratives. You may want to pick up some extras for your personal use, or pool some of your allowances if you think it will be useful." Barbarosa eventually finds his list and slides it over for the specialists to peruse.
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