Ciera gasps as the healing energy streams through his limbs, bringing him suddenly back to consciousness. Nervously he looks around at the others,... "How'd I get here?" he asks, "I was doin some explorin' in the officer's cabin. 'Ow'd I end up 'ere?"
As Cieran sits up, Owlbear's confusion turns into glee, and he picks up and hugs him. The big man's squeeze making it hard for Cieran to breathe fully.
"Oy, lad, the officer's quarters? You must have a massive set of balls on you. Do you remember anything else? I figure if one of the officers had found you they would have keelhauled you already. Someone else must have brought you here."
"Owlbear brought him. This 'scary lady' found him first, it seems. Either the gods are smiling, and you've avoided all trouble thanks to our simple friend here, or it's the bloody hour for you tomorrow." Balsooma scowls, his words obviously disturbing him too.
Ciera lets out a gasp as the big man pushes the air from his ribs. He smiles at the giant and, with takes the cheese. "Thank you Owlbear" he says "that was very nice of you!"
At Holgur's words he blushes a little and a small smile lights his face. "I won't be tryin' that again, that's fer sure. The bloody door were trapped magically - I've never been good at spotin' them kinds'a tricks. All I know is that I feel bloody lucky not t' be in front o' the cap'n right now!"
"Well as lovely as this is, I have a sinking suspicion that Mr. Plugg will have me in the bilges again tomorrow, so I am off." With the emergency averted, Kelly's fatigue seems to return with a vengeance, his initial attitude of indignation quickly dissolves and he seems barley able to stumble to his hammock, within seconds of making it into it he is sound asleep.
"Good man, Owlbear" Holgur says as he gives the big man a pat on the shoulder to show that he has not hard feelings about the fight.
"Guess I will get some sleep." He then head off to his hammock.
Ciera stands and stretches, "My thanks," he says, addressing everyone, including Owlbear "I don't know what would've 'appened t' me if ya hadn't come along. I guess we'd all best git t' sleep now though if we don't want Plugg t' notice anythin' out a place. Thank you again 'Bear, yer a good boy."
"Besmara's blessings upon you, friend," Balsooma says to the sitting form of Owlbear, in as thankful a tone as he can muster - the man might not understand his words, so the tone of his voice will have to suffice. Then, this particularly situation seemingly diffused for the time-being, he will head for his hammock.
Other than the excitement over Cieran, the night seems rather calm, the rest seeming to do everyone well. The morning though, is not quite as calm. The floor of the sleeping quarters is wet, and moving up top it's easy to tell why. The hatches over the hold are draining the rainwater from above down into the belly of the ship, and finally getting up on deck the full brunt of a heavy rain falls one each of you.
The drops sting lightly as they strike, great fat raindrops falling with the force of height hit patches of bare skin with large splashes, but at least it is a warm rain. If they were cold, the drops would have much more bite to them. The heavy rains hang like a curtain over the waters, making everything beyond a couple yards from the ship look like a gray nothingness. The waters below have a dark angry color, gone are the bright blues of island waters.
Regardless of the weather, work is handed out as usual.
Holgur is given line work, basically hoisting and lowering sails via the lines. He's is working with, and given the stink-eye from, his fellow rigger. A large, ugly-nosed dwarf known as Tam 'Narwahl' Tate, who is also often seen sharing a cruel laugh with Master Scourge.
Kelly is given a break from the bilges, to do his second most common task. This time he is working with an angry and impatient Mwani woman named Shivikah.
Cieran is handed something he has shown a decent aptitude for once before.
During your duties, passing messages between the officers, one of the notes takes you to the officer's quarters. Therein stands a woman you have seen about ship here and there, mostly speaking with familiarity to the Captain, her name is Pepper something or other. She isn't imposing physically, but there is a darkness about the cold stare she gives you. She has a calm, whispered tone as she recieves the message, adding "I had hoped that you would suffer longer for daring to mess with my things. Let's let this be a lesson to you, to keep your filthy urchin paws to yourself, before you lose them." Her threat is neither angry nor violent, just cold and calmly stated.
Balsooma makes his way to the galley, where Ambrose looks to be in a daze, his hands shaking as he keeps reaching for the bottle, before shaking his head and deciding against it. He is eager for the distraction of Balsooma's entry. "Boy, it seems the Cap'n 'as sumpin else 'appening today, Ah'm goin ta need ya ta gut one o' them thar sows that'r kep out inna hold."
Refresh from his early night, despite the discovery of a nearly dead Ciera, heads down to catch vermin for the day, happy to be down below decks away from the rain.
The fact that the dwarf seems to be in Plugg's clique gives Holgur some pause. He works diligently at his task and speaks only when necessary to his fellow on the lines.
Profession (Sailor)
Since it seems that Holgur did not botch things like he did yesterday he decides to take his rum as normal and look about the deck to see what crew are around. He is especially looking for Samms Toppins.
Balsooma sets to work with a will, and is soon covered in hot, steaming pig blood. "At least the rain will make washing easy, it seems," he mutters to himself as he works.
As the cooking of the gutted beast gets underway, he'll offer some words of encouragement to Ambrose: "It is well that you have your wits about you of late: it seems that to not have them could be dangerous on this boat."
He then idly gossips with the the old cook for information: "Say, last night, one of our number - the young boy, Ciera - was snooping around and got a bit of a jolt from some kind of trap in the officer's quarters. That a common thing aboard? Traps, that is."
That evening, he drinks his rum normally, then - feeling bold - finds himself a group of pirates to perform to, dredging up a tale from Katapesh that his father used to tell him.
Ciera, keen to avoid the notice of the officers who might notice her condidtion, works hard to run messages between the crew, pacing herself so as not to give away her injuries,..
Acrobatics:
Con: (working diligantly)
As the day comes to a close she lines up to take her share of Rum, which she drinks gratefully, before making her way over to Jack Scrimshaw. Smiling as she takes a seat next to him she begins to chat idly about the ship and its crew,...
Influence (befriend)...
She seems, however to make him a little uncomfortable with her proximity to him,.. maybe if he knew she was a girl things would be going better.
Though he despises it, Kelly is over come by the need to participate in the ridiculous ritual of talking about the weather.
The small talk turns out to be just that as it doesn't seem to have an appreciable effect one way or the other, but it does at least seem to pass the time a bit faster.
Once the work for the day is done, and the bloody hour concluded, Kelly decides to take his food and rum casually, and tries to seek out Sandara to thank her for helping his friend, but also to enjoy sharing the company of an attractive woman during the evening meal. He will then try and place some bets on some of the games going on around the ship, bartering with what meager possessions he has, trying to leverage them into more.
Kelly finds that Shivikah is not exactly of the 'pleasant talk of the weather sort' as she berates him for trying to waste her time with worthless chatter, "Ai dhon kher wat djou av to say aboud de wedda. Jus shud yer mout an gid to whark." Both her irritation, and strong Mwangi accent being painfully obvious.
Balsooma finds Ambrose more amenable, "Aye lad, when yer sailin' on a boat full o' plunderers, yer best off guardin watchya 'ave, 'owever ya can. 'Eck, even Grok gots some o' 'er stuff pertected as such. Yer boy's just lucky that 'e didn't snoop about tha Cap'ns quarters, a bit o' jolt'd be tha last o' 'is problems. 'EE'd most like end up dead... an' THEN keelhauled fer trying to sneak a peek at ol' Harrigan's room."
With the rains as heavy as they were during the day, and growing heavier as night falls most of the crew take their entertainments to the sleeping quarters. Even then, the atmospere about them seems about as grey as the weather. Samms sits astride her hammock, found easily enough, weaving what looks to be some of the fishing nets. She works at it more like a hobby than a task, hands moving almost automatically at the task likely from years of experience. Seeing Holgur wandering around, and heading her way, she invites him to sit, "Allo deary, that was a right nice thing ya did up thar fightin Owlbear to get us outta licks. Ye' wallop'd him good too, expectin' ta see hits like that comin' from yer big friend."
Almost as if on cue of being spoken of, Balsooma sets in to telling a tale of his homeland. Of the crew, the normally grim 'Cog' seems to take a particular interest, especially when the tale touches on the more violent aspects.
Cieran uses the time to try and get a few more words in with Jack, the young man bitten by rats only a few days prior. Despite the applause he had recieved the night before during his performance, he doesn't seem to be performing as well on this particular stage. Maybe due to something Cieran said, or about the way he said it, just seemed to put Jack off a little bit, and before long Cieran found the other young man eager to be somewhere else suddenly. He gathers his knife and scrimshaw, moving to the other side of the large bay all while looking back as if worried that Cieran may be following him.
Kelly joins Sandara as she wanders about the quarters, bouncing from game to game, either watching or playing. There's only a little bit of any of it though, again from the pall that the weather has brought, and everyone trying to cram into the sleeping quarters to stay out of it. There are some games of dice, and some arm wrestling, where the loser's hand ends up in a pile of nails and splinters. The foul-mouthed halfling Rosie, oddly enough, seems to be doing particularly well at this latter contest. In trying to work in on the bets, Kelly finds one group willing to front him a gold for the knife he's got.
Kelly, here's what I'm thinking. For playing dice or cards, it will be either a Bluff or Sense Motive DC 10 (for lack of rolling opposed checks), then divide the result by 5 and multiply by your bid. (e.g. you roll a 23, win, /5 = 4, times your bid of 1 gp = 4 gp). The crew won't take bets higher than 5 gp. For watching, you use Sense Motive, or an Int check. This is just a crude idea, it seems the book doesn't have anything on how to gamble, so I may work something more up later.
Kelly watches a particular game, being fronted a doubloon seems a good start, but he is a bit reluctant to proffer loosing the knife. After watching the game though, he is confident that he can keep his knife and make a coin or two.
He finds the game elementary, and very predictable tonight, he quickly wins a large sum of money, noticing some of the look he is getting he decides to spend the rest of the evening slowing losing some of his winnings back, to hedge the chances of him getting attacked in his sleep.
With the rains as heavy as they were during the day, and growing heavier as night falls most of the crew take their entertainments to the sleeping quarters. Even then, the atmospere about them seems about as grey as the weather. Samms sits astride her hammock, found easily enough, weaving what looks to be some of the fishing nets. She works at it more like a hobby than a task, hands moving almost automatically at the task likely from years of experience. Seeing Holgur wandering around, and heading her way, she invites him to sit, "Allo deary, that was a right nice thing ya did up thar fightin Owlbear to get us outta licks. Ye' wallop'd him good too, expectin' ta see hits like that comin' from yer big friend."Almost as if on cue of being spoken of, Balsooma sets in to telling a tale of his homeland. Of the crew, the normally grim 'Cog' seems to take a particular interest, especially when the tale touches on the more violent aspects.
"Aye, no doubt balsooma woulda' handled the task quite well. I just blurted out my response quicker is all. And why risk the man's good looks when there ain't no harm in getting my mug whcked a few times?"
He is about to say more when Balsooma starts telling his tale and captures the attention of everyone in the hold.
Samms replies to Holgur's assessment, "Oh, Deary, meself I don't care much for them exotic types. I like me a man that looks like he's married to the sea. Me late husband, may he tend Gozreh's nets, was a fisher and won me heart by knowing his way around the net." She indicates the type of net she refers to by lifting what she's working on for emphasis. By the way she talks, it's clear she comes from a heavy fishing background.
"I am sorry to hear of your husband's passing. Myself, I was never that great at fishing despite being aboard ships so much. Tell me, what kind of fish do you catch with that kind of net. There is probably a lot I don't know about stuff like that" he says with a smile.
She seems a little disappointed to hear Holgur's admission of a lack of fishing knowledge, but it doesn't seem to be terribly upsetting.
At the woman's words Ciera starts to make a denial but something in the woman's dark demenor stops her. Instead Ciera stares at the woman for a moment before ducking her head, muttering a quick appology and beating a hasty retreat.
"Aye I could stand to learn a lot more about fishing. That assumes I could find a good teacher' Holgur says with a sincere smile. He starts to says something else but stops suddenly as an idea strikes him. For a moment his eyes leave Samms and absently stare out toward nothing. Then he regains his focus and he turns to her again.
"How big of a net could you sew together? And how strong could you make one? I imagine big nets take a long time to fashion, don't they?" His questions come out more rushed than he had intended and Holgur stops himself before asking any more. It would not do to seem as if he had become addled by the fight with Owlbear.
"Deary, tha net depends on tha rope Ah have. Given time, Ah could sew any size net, an it's as strong as tha rope as well." She answers, confused by his line of conversation.
----------------------------
The heavy, wet, day yesterday is nothing compared to today. It is no longer just heavy drops, as the wind has joined in, and it looks like being anywhere on deck today will be a pain. Don't even mention being in the rigging. The sails flap and snap, requiring attention to maintain their durability and functionality. Captain Harrigan must either know what he's doing to try and keep sailing in this, or just may be thrice-damned crazy. Sadly, as the ship trudges onward, so does the work. Everyone seems to find themselves stuck out in the nasty weather in order to assist with keeping the ship in line.
Holgur gets sent up high to handle the upper rigging work, obviously Mr. Plugg seems determined to hold a grudge and has no compunctions about showing what happens to those that upset him. He ends up working with a monkey of a halfling nicknamed 'Ratline' for how nimbly he runs the lines.
Kelly is assigned to tending repairs, maybe there is a little recognition that sewing sails and splicing rope may be better suited to someone along his line of work. The self-proclaimed 'carpenter' gets to work on fixing any disrepair before the foul weather makes it worse. He is paired with Tilly Bracket, who despite taking swigs of rum all day, manages to still have enough wits to poke fun at Kelly all day as good-natured ribbing.
Ciera is tasked with hauling rope and working knots, and it's no easy work. WIth the rope as soaked as it is, the weight and difficulty in working the knots makes for a long day. Working with Sandara makes it more bearable, for her good mood about the foul weather is heartening. She looks as if she is truly alive with the sea raging about her. She gives many prayers and thanks to Besmara as she works, and off-handedly asks about how Ciera is doing after the 'incident'.
Balsooma is greeted by a weary Ambrose, his determination in drinking less weighing on him, but he seems to be doing better. He just may be over the worst of it. "Look son, we 'ave got ta refill the fish barrels. We's runnin' low an' if'n tha weather 'its any 'arder, dere'd be nut'in ta stew fer days. Ah needs ya ta git out in it and bring sumt'in in onna nets, er else tha ship's inna bad way, an' you wit' it." He directs him over to some of the fishing nets near the fish barrel, and rushes him out the door.
Cursing the foul winds that make the rigging so treacherous, Holgur climbs slowly and carefully to the top.
Climb
He stops to rest and get sure footing and idly imagines dropping something onto the heads of Plugg and Scourge.
Profession Sailor
Holgur spends too much time letting his mind wander and his work is unfocused as a result. He hopes in vain that the storm will require all of Plugg's attention and prevent him from paying any mind the sloppy work high on the masts. His years of experience aboard ships tells him that has earned himself some stripes come the Bloody Hour. Might as well not feel it too much he thinks to himself. And with that in mind he drinks his rum heavily to numb the coming pain.
[ooc]I doubt I wil be able to post tomorrow. Please DMPC as needed.
Kelly is thankful for the simple manual labor today, though he wishes he had the opportunity to actually use some of his wood working skill, he thinks it might be better to work other projects since the driving rain will have most wooden object swollen and difficult to repair.
While waiting for some resin to set, Kelly decides he's going to make a trip to the head, he motions to Tilly between her swigs of rum. On his way back he decides to stop by and visit Grok, taking her up on her offer to reclaim the majority of his stolen gear. The armor is heavy, but its familiar weight feels good. As he returns to his duties, Kelly examines his work now that its set. Its not a terriffic job, the dampness is making it hard to get things to behave, but he thinks it will do for the day.
As evening approches, he once again seek the company of Sandara to take his evening meal and rum. Eating and drinking lesurly. When he is finished, feeling bolsted by his returned gear, and riding high on the victories of last night, he decides to try his hand at a game of chance once again, wagering 5 of his earned pieces of gold.
Looks like his luck wasn't as stong tonight, but just as well, he still manages a meager profit. With the games done for the night, and storm raging above decks, Kelly decides it best to lock up his gear and gains for the night and turn in.
Cieara groans at the announcement of her job for the day, but, wanting to avoid any further punishments, she decides to work as hard as she can. (working diligently)
Strength:
Constitution:
As night draws in she lines up for the rum and food rations and drinks normally, deciding to ingratiate herself with as many of the crew as possible she begins to stretch and launches straight into a performance, complementing Holgur's .
Entertain crew: (Perform)
Balsooma groans at the news he'll be working outside: he can hear the storm lashing at the ship through the thick boards above him.
Lodging himself on the rail on the starboard side of the ship, he gets to fishing.
Although inexperienced at the task, Balsooma soon finds it fairly straight-forward - nets in the water, nets out of the water, fish - and it would be a pleasant activity were it not the sleeting rain and blustering wind.
Chilled to the bone, he nevertheless moderates his rum drinking, knowing the effect it had on him earlier.
Waiting until Holgur finishes his performance, he'll approach the man: "I'd like to try my luck at the arm wrestling, but it seems my pockets are too light to spot me entrance. Would you assist?"
"Aye, of course, my friend. Since you helped me with plug I figure a share of this goes to you with need to borrow." And he hands 25 gold to Balsooma.
"I see the little hobbit lass is a winner at this game. She must have some trick to it, but the others probably don't."
"Besmara's blessing on you," Balsooma accepts the gold with a slight bow of his head. Then, pocketing the most of it - only holding out enough to buy a stake - he heads for where the gamblers are lurking.
For the most part, despite the foul weather, everyone manages to perform their duties fairly well. Well, except for Holgur that is. He misses a knot at one point, and the sail briefly came loose and began flapping, but he was able to recover quickly enough to only earn two rope bashes from an irate Mr. Plugg.
As the large brass clock on the mast strikes the end of the work day, the crew looks almost as glum as the weather, hopefully they aren't growing as violent. They all huddle in their meager living quarters for a second day, trying to entertain themselves. After winning more of their coin, there are a few unhappy looks, and snide remarks at Kelly's 'luck', but no one yet tries to make a big to do out of it.
Both Holgur and Ciera try to lift the crew's spirits, but few join in on Holgur's song, and Ciera is still a little too stiff from the day before's 'incident' to fully be able to get into her routine. There are no outward signs of aggression, but they get very little in the way of attention, and Holgur even recieves a friendly "Oy, Mate, good thing you fight better than you sing." from one of the crew. This is followed by a few laughs. It seems that this night, the crew just isn't in the mood to be entertained.
As Balsooma nears the arm-wrestling, he is called out, by the little halfling woman of all people. "Well, I'll be f&%$ed and stuffed in a barrel if this wench born f+~& of a bilge-drinking, fat, barnacle-crusted whale thinks he can plop his pirate-stuffed ass down and put up a worthy match!" Despite her language, she doesn't appear to be upset, more taunting him good-naturedly. "Why don't you close your slack-jawed, cock gobbler, and put some money down? Or are you just here to stare at the other men, you thick-headed meat holster?" Her words are not forced, and come across as her normal pattern of speech, doubtless how this little halfling Rosie got the name Cusswell.
Both Holgur and Ciera try to lift the crew's spirits, but few join in on Holgur's song, and Ciera is still a little too stiff from the day before's 'incident' to fully be able to get into her routine. There are no outward signs of aggression, but they get very little in the way of attention, and Holgur even recieves a friendly "Oy, Mate, good thing you fight better than you sing."
"Singing? I thought I was dancing." Since this fails to elicit any laughs Holgur looks over to Balsooma and Kelly to note their positions. If Balsooma arm-wrestles the halfling Holgur will watch intently to try to divine her secret for success. He will cast glances over to Kelly also in case the other players take issue with his success at the game. He whispers his intention to Ciera since the lad gives him the impression of knowing a bit about sneaky tricks and reading surly crowds for possible trouble.
Balsooma nods slowly at the halfling woman's swear-filled banter, and grins: "I worked in a smithy. I've bent bars of iron bigger than you." He shoulders through the pirates surrounding the makeshift table and clinks the requisite five pieces of gold down.
He whispers across the table at Rosie: "With a skull that dense, I could swing you as a hammer and near dent the anvil."
Rosie maintains her facade, but you can tell by the way she looks at you, over the barrel top of sharp debris, that she worries that she may have bitten off more than she can chew. She still gives back with gusto as best she can, "Keep talking, s#&$ skin, and I'll play your sorry ass like my stolen fiddle."
She braces in, the grips tighten, and for a halfling woman Rosie has a grip that would make just about any blacksmith proud. With only minor give and take, Balsooma is able to ease her surprisingly strong arm down onto the barrel. With how easily he beat her, he manages to keep from slamming her hand into the clutter, so it drew a little blood, but nothing more.
As she's beaten one of the others starts to say something, "Wha's ta matter Rosie? I gue... OW!" He stops short as she punches him right in the thigh, dropping him with a vicious charlie horse.
Balsooma slips the coins into a pocket with a slight bow of his head to Rosie. "You have a stronger grip than any man I've ever met. Whoever stole your fiddle must be quaking in their boots like a palm tree in a storm."
The nights rest is anything but relaxing, with the growing wind and swells the ship rocks and thrashes, making sleep worrisome. The ring of the mast's clock is barely audible come morning, as the waves lap at the sides, and heavy rains wash the deck. The yell of the bosun, Scourge, and the restless sleep are all that help to alert the crew as to the dawn's arrival. As the crew collects on deck for their daily duties, they find there is a slight change of plans. Master Scourge, looking even more disturbing being soaked to the bone, keeps it short "Ye surely see the fury comin' down on us, so ye'll all be workin' tha riggin' this day. Tha' includes ye, Cook's boy." He points at Balsooma, who normally just makes his way down to the galley at this time. After his announcement, Mr. Plugg makes his way around, assigning duties as he goes.
Kelly
Ciera
Balsooma
As he walks by giving assignments, he stops at the group, speaking to Holgur, Kelly, and Ciera. "You three, ever so eager to be by another's side, how about you go work the mainsail. Oh, and Dr. Hangman, try to avoid ridding us of yourself or any others while you handle the rigging."
"As for you," He addresses Balsooma, "Let's see how well you follow orders, an avoid costing the captain any of his crew. I'm going to need someone with your strength up high in the upper rigging."
Balsooma hauls himself skywards, trying to ignore the rain lashing into his face, and the rolling of the ship. Remembering Holgur's advice from his first day aboard, he lets his feet do some of the work, guiding his way up to the top of the ship's rigging.
From this blustery perch, the deck looks far too distant. Balsooma tries to ignore this, instead focusing his mind to the task at hand.
After Plugg continues down the line Holgur advises Kelly and Ciera. "It's not all that bad up there. Just remember to take your time and if you have to drop something to keep your balance do it. Make sure to yell a warning to those down below, though. Remember, your skin is worth more than the damned sails or ropes no matter what the others tell you."
Profession (Sailor)
CON Check
Last night's rum is making itself felt again as Holgur climbs methodically to the top. Every few steps he pauses to see how the other three are progressing but he is mindful that Plugg will be watching him as well. He knows that the bastard bosun will be looking to give him stripes for being slow to the top so he does not delay any longer than he has to.
Ciera smiles up at Holgur, "Thanks fer that,.. I'm not sure how i'm gonna go up there, the height's fine but it loos like 'eavy work."
With that she starts to follow Holgur aloft, nimbly working her way to the rigging. As the hard work begins she feels the strain on her muscles and, gritting her teeth she settles in to the work. (working diligently).
Str:
Con:
The work is difficult, but everyone manages to do well enough to keep their wits about them enough to forge on through the day. The water comes in turbulent swells, tossing the ship about, but everyone seems able to keep themselves from flying from the rigging.
That is, until a particularly violent wave crashes into the side of the ship, sending it rocking far to the leeward side, and shakes someone loose from the yardarm. It's tough to tell at first who went overboard, but Holgur spots a familiar pair of bare feet splash into the waves.
Soon, Samms head pops out of the water's surface, and she tries to regain her bearings and swim toward the ship, but there's a good chance it will simply outpace her.
Holgur starts climbing down as quickly as possible.
Climb
But a sudden surge violently tosses the ship and he desperately holds on to avoid an abreviated journey to the deck.
Samms splashes around in the roiling seas, attempting to swim toward the ship but making no forward progress in the thrashing waves.
Balsooma sees the shape disappear off the yardarm into the roaring swells, and hears the cry from Holgur. Quickly knotting off his current work, he makes his way steadily down the rigging.