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Corliss catches a glimpse of the incoming grenade and holds his breath and, for once, his tongue.
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As the noxious bomb engulfs the scarred brute, he begins to hack before allowing it to descend into a harsh chuckle;
"Hur-hur-hur..."
The brute wafts at the fumes with his fell metal arm, still smiling menacingly toward the pale bomber;
"Smells nice... Like death... Ratty death...Hur-hur!"
Jim, too, is unaffected by the foul fumes.
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In a stunning turn of events neither predicted nor expected... Dibbets is the first and only to succumb to the foetid fumes and stain his 'stache with regurgitated bile. A half stuttered "Fecks sake..." is audible before stumpy is poleaxed and bent half at the waist to address the decking. What motion he can muster is spent lurching t'wards his predicted edge of the cloud...
In a meerkat-like display of self-sacrifice, Dibbets' call is heeded by the others, who prepare for the gas attack, but the wee warner himself is caught opened mouth to gag on the fumes. Dibbets stumbles out of the cloud only to have another hastily thrown bomb whistle past him and into the cloud exploding near enough that the burning burst reaches him.
I smells me a rat--no one willingly ensconces himself on a stack o' barrels! Corliss thinks to himself with his slightly dented brain. Works fer me...cuz I ain't goin' near that trapped stack!
The priest instead calls upon his Besmara-granted magic, casting sound burst centered on the pale gnome, hopeful he'll catch any hidden li'l rat allies lurking amidst the pile of barrels as well.
Kaul rushes forward with a leering promise of violence, rather than run-into the creature's nest he merely lashes out with his keen edged axe, smashing at the barrels with aplomb;
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Jim strolls forward, watching to see if Kaul's chopping brings the gnome to earth, and tosses his silver dagger at the foe.
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Brief interlude of relief at exiting the cloud is brought vigorously to a close as one of the gnome's missives explodes besides and sends Dibbs careening into nearby stowage. Nose bleeding and beard stained with puke the filthy halfling shakes his head to clear it... before a muttered "Sh1te..." before doubling up and further emptying his gullet.
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The crew emerge from the foul cloud none the worse for it, except Dibbets who at least feels better after blowing chunks. A booming crack! like sails snapped taut in a gale rocks the white furred manrat atop the barrels. He catches himself however, and goes on preparing another bomb pausing only to briefly to give Jim a cold stare after the silver dagger nicks his ear.
Kaul rushes up to split a barrel sending rum spraying over him and pooling in the hold. The barrels shift slightly, again rocking the wererat spy. He manages to stay aloft, but he drops his bomb more than throws it and it explodes at Kaul's feet. The strange green flames spread out across the spilled alcohol, but the only thing that burns is the half-orc's flesh.
Corliss scoots through the hold, taking up a position behind the stack of crates to the mad bomber's southwest, hoping that'll give him cover from the mad bomber. He feels a pang of guilt that his tactic leaves Kaul and Jim as obvious targets for the next round of attacks, but looking at the bloody, burnt, scarred thing that is Kaul, he figures the half-orc can manage.
Tough bugger, him--that last firebomb actually looks like it healed the lunk some....
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As the strange flames lick at his feet and legs, Kaul steps lightly avoiding the worst of the burn.
The scarred thug leers as he revels in the destruction and mayhem, he shifts again toward the pale ratman lashing out again with Lopper at the barrel stack;
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Corliss spots no other skulking foe than the white wererat tottering on the barrels before him.
Dibbets tries a few more experimental regurgitative motions, but nothing emits more than a faint taste of soured gin. Dry spitting he grimaces and chuckles "Bugger me, 'ad worse self inflicted... C'mon lads, paint 'im red"
Jim takes a running start and launches himself into the air, pulling off of one of the barrels with his free hand and stabbing at Whitecoat as he sails by.
Jim decides to take the battle to the rat. With a leap and a lunge, the swashbuckler catches Whitecoat his crackling blade. Though the blade is unsilvered, it's a deep cut that mars the wererat's white hide with crimson blood and black ash. A splash of blood speckles Jim for his troubles. Kaul lays into the barrels again cutting his way through the stacked barrels.
Hard pressed, the white wererat leaps down on the far side of the barrels and opens another vial. Another cloud of smoke pours out: odorless this time, but still obscuring the rats location.
Corliss joins the scrum, swinging his silver light mace at the ratty gnome.
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Recovering Dibbets scoffs "Nei today laddie" bringing his arms wide before forcefully doubleslapping himself in his gut. As he does so, a burst of foetid wind issues forth, roiling through the confines of the ship... and hopefully making plain what is obscured...
Though a veteran of countless combats, the Taldan recoils as the blood splashes him. "Feck me, you b@stard! What have you been eating?"
Corliss disappears into the black cloud along with the light of his silver mace momentarily anyway before Dibbets belches a blast of rank air to blow the clouds apart. Corliss appears again along with the small white gnome-rat crouched beneath his bright waving mace.
Jim staggers forward, blade raised. "Time's up for you!"
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Kaul tracks the sneaky rodent-bomber, shifting as he continues his own destructive path
As he moves the brute tries to time a lashing lop at the gnome-rodent;
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The revealed rat is quickly cornered by Jim and Kaul, but Jim's rapier only grooves the lycanthropic agent's thick white leather coat and Lopper is deflected by a fainlty shimmering magical force that wards the saboteur. The furry form steps back holding its empty pink paws forward. "I surrender."
"In that case...I be acceptin' yer surrender," Corliss says. He leaves unsaid the part about him being the junior member of the crew and having no real say in such matters....
Kaul belays his next chop as the ratter surrenders.
Fell hatchet raised and readied, the brute casts beady eyes back and forth betwixt shipmates and rat basterd.
"E' yankin' our chain or sin-cerely wavin' the white flag?"
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Jim steps back, still as alert as his rebellious guts allow. "Cap'n decides what happens to you. Drop your gear and get above." He murmurs an aside to the half-orc while escorting the captive to the captain. "Nose around and make sure he's the only one hiding down here, hey?"
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Limping to a wall to steady Dibbs affixes an iron eye to the were rat "Alla it... e'vry thread an doon tae yer fur..." expecting that the rat bastard would need to remove all thread and hope of trickery in order to live "...iffin were up tae me ye'd be eatin Kauly's axe 'ere.."
The wererat holds his paws high and with a look of concentration, straightens and twitches as he transforms back into a bleachling gnome. With a gesture to show his intent, he unbuckles his bandolier and belt of little bottles of reagents and alchemical substances which fall to the floor. There is a faint moaning sound of disappointment though it is hard to tell if it emanates from Kaul or his deadly ax.
Whitecoat drops his eponymous reinforced white leather overcoat and work apron next and strips down to a simple white smock, before nodding that he is ready to proceed.
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Dibbs sighs and shakes his head "Ye didnae listen... all o' it... doon tae b$~!*&&s and yer wee worm wavin inna wind" fixing Whitecoat with the sort of look that means he really really wants the gnome to object... cos then he could drop the leash...
The strangely serene gnome drops his smock without comment revealing a form that is startlingly white in entirety. "Shall we see the captain now?"
Kaul pokes around at Jim's request while the others escort the captive to captain.
Kaul balefully stares at the pale gnome, then turns his beadies toward the wreckage behind him;
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He also pokes around the barrels where the rat was lurking and finds a couple other opened vials now empty, but with some foul smelling residue within.
Kaul pockets the coin then waves toward the pile of wreckage he cleared where Whitecoat's paraphenialia lies ;
"Bunch o' his instruments and such amongst that lot; vials aplenty, 3 gray wee stones, a dagger with a hollow handle and some book with scribblings an' weird symbols innit. I ain't fer touchin' them... Anyone wants to purloin 'em feel free..."
"All right, march." Quicker the Cap'n makes his call, quicker little Whitesnake can cover back up.
Satisfied that he'd been listened to... Dibbets mentally toyed with the idea of forcing Whitecoat to be hogtied and carried above like the product of a particularly poor hunt... but manages to quell the thoughts enough to give Kaul a nod "Aye Kauly, wrap it inna bundle an' we'll sort it oot topside eh?" before making to follow after Jimmer and the white minnow.
The small pale form offers no resistance and doesn't appear particularly bashful as he simply moves forward ignoring the strange looks from the few crew that aren't at the lines or up in the sails setting the Black Dragon off on the homeward journey. Captain Drake looks pained at the sight of the naked gnome, but turns command over to a mate and leads the way into the Captain's Quarters. He tosses a sheet at the gnome. "Cover up. I really don't need to see that. So WHAT am I seeing here?"
Kaul nods and collects the dirty rat's belongings - gingerly popping them into a waterproof sack he carries.
The thug then lumbers in his shipmate's wake, grumbling about Lopper not being fed proper before Drake booms his question to the crew.
The scarred brute snickers at the Captain's words
"Hur-hur-hur-hur... Tis a tiddler an' no mistake that we caught Skipper. More a worm for the 'ook I reckons! Pale freak its attached to is a thorn in our collective sides fer some time. Blood and retribution both o'erdue ..."
"I'm thinking this is our saboteur, Cap'n. Alchemist, wererat, and Aspis agent. Likely responsible for the brainboil epidemic a bit past. Though I'd be happier to see him dance a jig aloft, there's much in his head that the Council would want."
Corliss seems genuinely surprised that his new mates don't have Kaul's good chum Lopper behead their old nemesis. He gathers any wounded crew around and channels positive energy again to heal up any lingering wounds . Then he cautiously approaches Kaul.
"Ye be the eyes o' this crew?" he asks. "I'm thinkin' ol' Whitey gave up a bit too easy-like. Care to search the ship for any bombs or booby-traps he mighta hidden belowdecks?"
Jim nods in agreement with Corliss. "My thought as well, hey? Something's not right here."
His mateys having well covered the gist of proceedings, Dibbets waits to see what the Captain's first words of wisdom are.
Drake frowns. "And the terrorist that murdered Captain Roberts as well. I'd be for hanging him from a yard arm as well, Jim. That might be premature though. I expect the powers will want to question him. I doubt he's the only snake the consortium has turned loose in Freeport. What's his rank? Did you find a ring or token on him?"
Kaul nods at Corliss' assessment, then flashes a mako grin;
"Hur. Savvy lad Blackboots. Eyes an brains o' this here operation... Jimmer has the looks, Dibbs is the anchor an' feck knows what Ol' Snakehips is..."
The scarred thug chuckles to himself, then accepts the magicks with a beady leer;
"Hur... Bombs an' booby traps. Got it. Find any an' try not to set 'em off..."
As he mutters the last words he taps his own noggin with a metal claw.
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"Corliss, can you tell if there's aught of magic remaining on this gnome? Cap'n, I don't recall seeing a ring on him. Kaul searched him and we have his gear."
Kaul meanders down below to look for traps unhindered by the darkness of the hold. He pokes around and even taps his heels together to try to activate his trap detecting shoes, but finds nothing.
Up top, Corliss looks over Whitecoat's gear and finds that his coat is magical , there's a faint aura on one of the gray stones and a wand.
Whitecoat himself seems to take no interest in all the activity about him and merely asks for his smock back to cover up.
"Corliss, any spells on him?"
Corliss nods to Jim and mutters a prayer to Besmara. "Might be wise iff'n I keep this detectin' spell up when Kaul an' me check out the ship fer traps, eh?" Then he gives the bleached gnome the once-over.
The gray rock is perfectly spherical and has a faint universal dweomer. The wand detects faint transmutation. Corliss detects no other magic on Whitecoat or his gear.
Captain Drake just shakes his head at the bleachling's lack of interest in his peril. "Well, he better be more forthcoming back in Freeport or he can work on his tan in the Tombs. How do we keep him secured though? If we stick him in a barrel he'll just chew his way out."
Kaul returns to the fold just in time to catch the Captain's thoughts on imprisoning Whitecoat;
"Hur... We could take a limb or two... Lopp 'em off - means he can't go nowhere..."
The thug winks at Corliss with a sage nod;
"Like I said... Brains o' the crew..."
"We'll have to put a couple of guards on him and arm them with silver. Someone find him another smock, too." Jim turns back to the gnome. "Hoy, Whitecoat! Where's your ring?"