Darkness found our budding pirates when last we left. What will happen now?
------
A subtle odor wafts to the nostrils of those sprawled out below deck. Body odor, salt, and rum. Old, new, fresh, stale, but all three potent and aggressive. Subtle swaying and rocking by the waves in the darkness would leave most comfortable and sleeping soundly, were the situation slightly different.
The rough grained wood of the hold's floor and walls are illuminated by a bright, searing beam of light, which it becomes obviously connected to a gruff sea dog. Wearing dull colors, brown and black and sea-weathered broadcloth, the wielder of the instrument of pain cracks the more infamous cat-o-nine in his right.
"Still abed with the sun over the yardarm? On your feet, ye filthy swabs! Get up on deck and report for duty before Cap’n Harrigan flays your flesh into sausage skins and has Fishguts fry ye up for breakfast!"
Six rough and ready sailors slap padded saps into their palms to illustrate the point.
You find that your favorite leather duster is no longer guarding your inners, nor are the majority of your weapons at your disposal. The only thing that seem to have missed their attention is the dagger you so smartly stuffed in your boot. And gods be damned if your treasure of a hat isn't gone too!
Apparently the alcohol must have hit you quite hard, because the only bits of the money and such you had from last night's vast session of drunken enlightenment are a dagger that somehow found itself awkwardly wedged under your clothing and a single gold coin that seems a bit wet and wedged in the toe of your shoe.
Your holy symbol must have gotten some unexpected attention, because it is laying over top of the sleeveless shirt. Strangely lacking, though, are your arms and armor. The pink pearl earrings that drew so much praise and admiration must not have made you any friends, because they too are gone, and your ears are a bit tender as a result.
You must have survived this experience quite well because your seashell is not damaged, in the least, nor is it removed from where you usually keep it. These individuals must have thought nothing of a strange monkey with a seashell. Whether Besmara is with you or not, you have kept that wonderful item, but sadly your club, armor, and the rest of your carefully gathered gear are not so lucky.
Whether this group either tired your captors out, or someone kept you safe, you manage to survive the experience with your thieves kit not only undamaged but completely within your possession. What the rest of this trip will bring...well, who knows?
Well, we'll figure out what you managed to survive with, when the time comes.
Sunny groans softly and wriggles about to at least get some comfort upon the hard wooden floor she is slowly becoming aware of beneath herself,
"S'okeys....." She mumbles, "I dun't put tha' things with tha' things, like ya said ta' does..."
There should also be the key to the Master-worked chest Sunny was carrying. I can think of imaginative place to hide that as well....XD
Pari groans softly, her head throbbing with a dull ache she's not sure how to deal with immediately. The tanned woman flinches as the crack of the cat o' nine tails makes her swiftly alert, blinking several times to adjust to the bright beam of light.
Reaching over and patting herself down, she's mildly upset about her missing coat, the linen shirt clinging to her upper body from sweat. She's at least sure that nothing untoward happened to her, aside from the obvious. Her hand brushes over the silver spiral, relieved that survived at least. Though it seems that her fortunes otherwise aren't looking well.
"Well, I suppose I should drink from my own flask from now on..." She sighs. Another curve in the spiral of her life has approached her today. She just hoped it would not be her last. Pushing against the wall, the one-legged cleric's peg leg clunks audibly against the floor, as she files out, not wishing for any lashes or beatings with saps.
"...you should all rise up now..." She urges the others, putting the pieces together in her head as she walks up to the main deck, touching her ears and wincing at the slight tears in her piercings. If she found out who took her precious earrings, she'd toss them overboard and let her matron judge them.
lol Well, then I guess the key and those indicated items can be wherever you can ironically think of putting them. So yes, indeed, you can use your imagination on where to find them.
For those successful on the following:
The man giving you a lantern-induced wake up call was at the Formidably Maid last night.
The taste of oily nutmeg is distinct on your tongue, even through the remnants of hangover breath.
You know, with no doubt, that you've been subject to oil of taggit, one nasty bit of knockout poison.
Thorn manages to wake with his hat on his face. A frown accompanying him as he stood, and placed his wondrous attachment back on his head, he checks everything where it should be... and grimaces.
Not what I signed up for... what was in that ale? Where is my-
"It's all gone. Well, damn," Thorn mutters, gathering his wits about him. He pats himself down, looking for familiar hiding places, and upon feeling a thickness in a sock, he just smiles a little - but destroys it upon hearing a rude voice.
He looks to those gathered around him, and looks to the man who so viciously calls them aboard. His eyes narrow as he stares, defiantly, and walks to the middle of the corridor. Boldly, he moves to approach him, purpose set in his eyes.
I'll find this Harrigan, and I'll hang 'im myself. This is slavery, and it's nothin' short of vile.
Sunny slowly climbs to her feet along with every one else. With slow, overly exaggerated motions she opens her mouth and makes 'lip smacking' noises,
"Tha' taste of tha' rum be gone......... Why is even tha' taste of tha' rum gone?"
She blinks blearily at those around herself and at those who seem to be threatening them.
"Here.......I done think we's on'a boat...." She manages to put ate set that much information together as she stumbles along with those awakening from the drug induced sleeping.
"Shanghai'ed! Ow! Daddy warned be about this. That dwarf was not a very nice dwarf."
Best go along with whatever the mean men want. None of them seem to have taken liberties, so thank Desna for that!
"Aye aye sir."
Eloise shuffles forth, blinking her eyes against the light of day.
As Sunny stumbles up onto the deck, she brings both hands to cover/ shield her eyes from the morning sun, turning slowly to survey the ship and crew hands around them. After a short while she actually gives a quiet sigh of relief at what she sees before joining the gathering crew.
Waking up to the rocking of the ship and the rank odor of the people around him or... maybe it was just him his hobby tended to leave a rather interesting odor about him. He would stand up shakily rubbing his head. The older gentle man would have issues finding his sea legs again after so many years." Ughh where the bloody hell am I." His train of thought was interrupted by a man flapping his mouth to get on deck or be flayed alive or some rat vomit of a thing such as that. This old man would just curl his thin lips and let out a cackling laughter as he walks up the steps to the deck. Shielding his eyes from the blinding sun he would look about to see where others have gathered then join the group.
Looking back at his new compatriots, Thorn frowns at their slightly sluggish movements, but recalls their last night was heavy on drinking indeed. Stopping on his way up, he ensures everyone is up and awake for this meeting with the captain.
Nobody should waste time. If this is as bad as I think it may be, we need to be aware and ready for trouble.
"C'mon now. Let's get moving 'fore they get impatient. I'd rather not kill a man today over laziness."
Once your eyes adjust to the bright ball of pain's illumination of the daytime sky, it’s quickly apparent that the group of you are on a sizable ship in the middle of the ocean, far from any land. Port Peril and the mainland of the Shackles, for those of you who look, are just an ochre haze many miles astern. Figures cluster around the ship’s mainmast, looking up at the higher deck on the stern, where two figures stand.
One of them is a broad, muscular Garundi man with a shaven head, a long beard bound with gold rings, and an eye patch — clearly the captain. The other is a younger, balding man with a long black ponytail, wearing a long black leather coat and carrying the well-used cat-o’-nine-tails you had the misfortune to see a few moments earlier.
As you look around, you motley recruits will notice that you are, by far, not the only new recruits—four others are standing along with you on the deck, set apart from the rest by relative cleanliness and their apparent unease with their newfound situation. A dozen or so other pirates, clearly existing members of the crew, stand about on the deck or in the ship’s rigging. Whether new recruit or established sea dog, the crew is clearly watching the lot of you.
There is quiet mumbling that goes along among those already assembled, but it is quickly quieted with a single throat clear from the captain. Once all of the newly acquired "recruits" are above deck, the captain speaks.
“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."
There is a momentary pause in conversation, as the Captain starts to walk off. Looking over his shoulder, he grins darkly, the sadism clearly visible in his eyes, as he adds one last chilling piece of information.
"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! 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.”
And with that, the Captain is off to whatever duties it is he has intended for today.
With the Captain out of sight, the notorious Mr. Plugg smirks and begins to walk down the line of newly assembled "pirates", using the cat o' nine as a tool of cruel gesticulation.
"So, since we're a bit light on crew, we'll be putting you 'lubbers through yer paces. First, I want to see ya scale the rigging! We be in need of a new rigger, since the last ended up fallin' out of the nest. So be quick about it!" And thus, the first test begins.
You may attempt to fake a fall, or fake lack of skill in this area with a Bluff check, which will be opposed by Plugg's Sense Motive. Climbing the rigging requires a DC 10 Climb check to reach the crow’s nest, 60 feet above the deck. Remember that the PCs climb at one-quarter their normal speeds (or half speed with an accelerated climb) so each PC will need to make several Climb checks. The first PC to reach the crow’s nest is the winner. In the event of a tie, the PC with the highest final Climb check is the winner.
Ajani groans as he slowly comes to, blinking his large eyes and looking around, obviously confused and unsure of where he is. The last thing he remembers is all the people he had met at the Formidably Maid the night before...he didn't have that much to drink. He didn't think so anyway.
Looking to the others, he is surprised to recognize all of them from the tavern the night before. Though the others all seem pretty confused about what is going on, Ajani whispers to them, "We've been shanghaied...poisoned...they must have spiked our drinks with oil of taggit...it tastes faintly of nutmeg and oil."
Almost as soon as he had it out, some of their captors came below deck, yelling at the group to get on their feet. Ajani slowly righted himself, wary of any aftereffects from the taggit oil. Deciding for now it would be best not to draw attention to himself, he follows Pari's advice, lining up with the others and going outside with them.
Once on the deck, Ajani listens quietly to the instructions given them by the Captain. While he seemed rough around the edges, and certainly not a kind man, the sense of malevolence that Ajani got from the other, the one the captain called Plugg, sent a shiver down the Vanara's spine. Still...he imagined the best way to start working his way out of this situation was to make himself as useful as possible. And...this was a climbing test. And...he was a monkey. He grinned.
At the "Go" signal, Ajani rushes forward to the rigging, immediately finding a handhold with his hands and feet before beginning his ascent.
From the top of the crow's nest, Ajani looks down at the others as they continue to climb the rigging, shielding his eyes from the sun as he grins broadly and triumphantly before shouting down to them, "I believe the appropriate human expression is 'Well I'll be a monkey's uncle!'"
The woman listens quietly as she's told exactly what she's already figured out for herself. Being not her first run in with pirates, the woman simply holds out her peg leg to Mr. Plugg.
"Begging your pardon, but as you can tell, climbing is not an activity to which I am capable," She states. "I'll do my best, but..." The tanned woman shrugs, hobbling over at a slow pace and grabbing onto the rigging, attempting the climb - 'attempt' being the key word.
At this the man looks at the rigging and sigh's. "well aint my cup of tea but it aint worth di..." He would be cut off by this strange monkey man shooting up to the nest with out breaking a sweat. He would let out a grin."Well that solves that. Kahahahaha."
At being introduced to the captain and first mate Sunny seems to relax even more, though she is quick to bounce to attention when Master Plugg gives his little speech and orders.
Scampering quickly to the railing, Sunny is left blinking as Ajani simply flies up the rigging. With a boisterous cheer, laughs and giggle Sunny waves the Vanaran on.
(^_^)
I guess I'd better start climbing. What would Daddy do?
Ajani scampered past the slower moving tiefling
He would let the monkey win. I really do not want to be in the rigging when these people fight. On the other hand, these people are not nice. Distance from them might be good. I'd best do my best.
Eloise climbs up.
Once at the top, she waves genially at Ajani.
"Hi there!"
Ajani returns the wave, smiling at Eloise after she has vaulted into the crow's nest. "Hello there. Happy to have some company!"
(Just in case.)
With little to do but to let him win for the time being, he recalls what he can about his appearance, and puts it away for a rainy day. Taking to the rigging, he gets a boothold, and attempts to climb.
It's apparent he isn't used to the rigging, and can't find a solid foothold. By the time he actually begins to climb, the vanaran has already reached the peak. It places a frown on his face, but inside he smirks widely.
That's one man who'll be safe... hopefully.
Plugg and the rest of the crew look briefly dumbfounded at the climbing monkey, before Plugg yells at the rest to get back to work, before turning to the newest batch of pirates. "You lot! Down from the rigging. What's your name, Monkey Boy?" He points to Ajani, looking over the rest. "Well, whatever it is, you're now our newest rigger, and 'll report to me for your jobs."
He shakes his head at the rest of the lot. "And as far as the rest of you lot, I'm surprised you even survived the night, considering how poorly you all climb." His eyes seem to be especially harsh on Pari and Doc, although Doc is the target of his hatred at the moment.
"And YOU! Nobody shirks their duties on the ship. I don't care if you're the father of the sea itself. You do as I say."
And as he speaks the last part, he strikes out with the quite nasty end of his whip several times, to emphasize the point.
He steps right up to the strange, aged Mwangi. "You are a waste of space on this ship, old man, but I'll find a use for you yet, even if I have to use you as shark bait."
After addressing the old man, he smirks. "Now that we've found the real talent, can any of the rest of you cook? We've got ol' Kroop below deck, but the officers would rather have food than the s$#~ that drunk puts together."
Ajani starts to descend the rigging, but only takes a few steps down the ropes before he pauses and looks back up toward Eloise. He seems to intend to wait for her to climb down with him rather than go down separately from her.
After they have both reached the deck, Ajani turns to the captain. "I am called Ajani. In the language of my people it means 'He who wins the struggle'". he answers.
Pari shrugs her shoulders, the woman glancing around at the rest of the people there. "I happen to be familiar with a kitchen," She announces to Plugg. "If you need someone to help make the food taste well, I would be happy enough to assist." I know I've purified my fair share of spoiled rations, at least.
Sunny continues to clap in response/appreciation of Ajani's skills even as the group comes to 'attention' again before Plugg. (^_^)
At the question of 'cooking' she looks on a little blankly.
The older gentle man would gaze back at Plugg smiling." I am an old man, Physical tasks are rather Hard for a bag of bones such as my self."
"Aye and captains orders we wouldn't want anyone dead on the ship now as we are short handed. Am i right? I could simply fall over dead by a thump on the head if your not careful. I am an old man ya know Kahahaha."(This would be said in common but with the accent that would be used in infernal) He would add in a gentle knock on his own head as he cackles madly.
Doc would look over the crew and the ship then back to Plugg again."I may not be a physical laborer but i do have other skill's that you and your captain may find of use."
Eloise climbs down right after Ajani.
"I am an excellent cook." Eloise says flatly
Cooks don't stand watches. Cooks get first dibs. And cooks don't have to be near nice Mr. Plugg here.
Sunny glances and squints up at the shadows etc cast by the mast and rigging and tries to get an idea as to what time of day it actually is.
It looks as though Scourge is a bit thrown off, just momentarily by the audacity of the Doctor's lack of even attempting the first test.
"Finally! Someone who is actually useful at this task. You, wench, will be "assisting" ol' Fishguts in the galley."
He then turns to the old man. He draws his cat o' nine back, looking like he's about to strike, when the old man speaks about how easily he would probably die. He shakes his head and grimaces just briefly. "Damn waste of space, ya ol' bag of bones. Maybe the ol' Sea Queen will take you in your sleep and spare me your laziness."
Even with all of his big words, the taskmaster seems to be a bit unsettled by something about the old man.
Snapping the whip against the deck to calm a series of snickers and murmurs from the crew, he grins darkly.
"Alright, you bilge rats. Those of you not assigned to rigging or cookin'...yer now swabs! Congratulations! As your reward...you get to start work before the Cap'n changes his mind and let's me chum the water with you lot!" And with that, the taskmaster walks off.
Eloise: Bull Session
Ajani: Rigging Repair
Sunny: Hauling Rope and Knot Work
Pari: {Wo)Man the Bilges
Doc: Hauling Rope and Knot Work
Thorn: Hauling Rope and Knot Work
Eloise cleans the galley, organizing it as she goes. She is both diligent and thorough. She may not actually know how to cook, but she knows how to clean. She also knows that the food, such as it is, will taste better if prepared in a clean environment. Everything that can be scrubbed is, everything that can be degreased (that isn't cast iron) is.
He talks, I clean. :)
Eloise will chat up her boss while she cleans.
Sorry, that was a diplomacy roll. And she is doing general sucking up to her supervisor, Kroop. Eloise is encouraging him to talk about anything he wants, but she is especially interested in the ship, ship's crew and officers.