"Groom, pass the word that the rats been at their boxes, chewed a hole or three. Why isn't that hatch open?"
Just to be on the safe side, Dingus lets go with a snoopy snake.
"Hold up lads, afore we head up... I've got words tae say tae little green idjits" stumping up from the newly revived Kaul to where the maniacal midgets lie fallow. He notices one turned to paste by the telltale left behind by vigorous application of vaprous vipers.. but puts a hand to the neck of the other two - searching fer a pulse...
Take 10 on Heal for 11
...and remembering a pain in his ankle "Oh, n watch yer feet like... the wee buggers have potaters an ropes set tae kill ye iffin ye step wrong" he casts a weather eye to the place where murderous starch resides...
Dingus' finds no magical auras beyond your own gear. The two remaining green-haired gremlins are battered and unconscious, but still alive.
Remembering the resistance of the gremlin's flesh to his mortal blades Dibbets calls "Kauly... take the head off that'n." calling on his half-orcen friend to end the life of one of the buggers. The other he sees secured with rope and bound as tightly as he can muster... though he makes no attempt to wake it yet. Pausing a moment, he tastes the air... trying to see if the feeling of drunken-ness is still present or has passed on.
Regardless, he leaves greeny alone and starts cautiously stumping his way back to his glowstick... then onwards to where the sack of potatoes was almost his end. Once there he takes a wary peek into the rummy midgets domain... trying to see if there really was rum down here below... or if it was a trick of his deprived mind.
Kaul lops the head off one of the mites while Dibbets hogties the other. Dibbs and Jim still feel a bit buzzed, but reckon it will pass given time. Dibbets carefully investigates the floor ahead, but despite a thorough search, the sharp-eyed scamp sees no evidence of the magical snare until he's once again hoisted toward the overhead.
Emitting further curses in dialects yet unplumbed despite your extended time travelling with the foul mouthed bugger Dibbs reaches up with the red-man's dagger and cuts himself free... landing on deck with a thump. Picking himself up and spitting blood to one side he mutters "Two down..." before cautiously stalking on.
Dibbets manages to evade any further hang time and reaches the storage room again finding three butts of grog, 15 bottles of mediocre wine and six bottles of premium run. As well as three bushels of apples.
Kaul ties the grog-noggin to his belt and scours the rest of the bilge for anything else remotely stealable;
:
"Hur... so lads want me tae turn that hatch tae kindling? Hur-hur..."
The thug enthusiastically brandishes his chopper in anticipation
"Richard and I are more than ready to leave this vile hold", Dingus answers his robes hiked up almost too high to stay out of the stinking water. "Let them bail out their own boat".
"Kauly - give Tum-Bobble a swim in ere" pointing to one of the grog butts. Taking three of the bottles of rum, Dibbs refills his flasks to swimming, swigs the remainder of that bottle and sticks the other two into his trousers as trophy. Moving from drink to food he calls "Apples?" before filling his own pockets and emerging crunching down on one hungrily such that the juices flood down his whiskers and drip onto the floor.
With the looting of supplies complete, the Groom calls out again, "We're hale and whole, but waist deep in bilge. Now open up so we can get these Deaders over the side. And the pumps down here need manning, iff'n you want to put on more speed. SO OPEN UP! Or else I'll set Kaul to chopping that hatch and he won't be in a mood to stop once he breaks through."
Kaul's continued search of the ship below decks finds dry stores full of weevily biscuits, dried peas, and the like. The crew quarters reveals rows of hammocks and private chests. Digging through a couple trunks finds a hidden pouch with 5 red jasper stones.
the Groom hears a grunt in reply, but Rekello gives the word and the boards are pried off the hatch allowing daylight past the heads of the curious crewmen and into the hold once again.
Jim murmurs, "Here, took them long enough. They must've been terrified of the deaders. Now I'm wondering, though, if we got all the rats that got into the crates."
Dibbets dispels the glow from ol' faithful and stumps painfully back above... non-chalantly chewing on a piece of apple and still trailing twin snare ropes as he does. "Be a good lad an grab the midget Kauly... could be fun laters" asking his half-orcen and scarred companion to help him getting the green haired gidget above decks.
Kaul grunts an agreement and makes for the inert rum gremlin...
He pauses allowing Tum to soak up some grog, giving the idol plenty opportunity to savour the strong drink.
As he lumbers back up-on-deck Kaul hefts the rum gremlin in his free paw and his axe in the other...
Dibbets leads the way above with Kaul a step behind bearing a limp pink creature in one hand and axe in the other. The smell of rum is nearly overpowering as a voice is heard from the nut in his sack, "Put the lime in the coconut, drink them both together, Put the lime in the coconut, then you feel better..."
Captain Miro scowls at you beneath slack sails and a still gray sky. "You're lucky to have survived down there. I don't need any more dead men aboard since they haven't been staying very dead lately. As long as you're on my ship, you will obey my orders. Next time you disobey orders, you're done."
She sighs,"Well, at least we can sleep on board again. Boys, dump the corpses overboard and get those crates up here as well. They've been nothing but trouble."
Jim snaps Miro a perfect Taldan naval salute, but the effect is ruined by his slouch and smile. "Aye, ma'am. We won't forget. One thing--best you seal those boxes up good. See the holes? And the rats we killed below? I'm thinking whatever's in that dirt turned the rats bad, though Dingus or the Groom might know more of such matters."
With a cavalier smile as he munches on retrieved stores Dibbets re-interprets the captain's words and simply replies "Yer welcome... an no-one touch me midget" stumping past the assembled gawkers with Kauly to the foredeck.
Miro purses her lips at Jim's report. "I had my suspicions that the dirt was cursed. That just confirms it. Don't worry, those crates are going over the side. They might as well have been filled with gold for what that's gonna cost me, but it'll teach me not to deal with mages."
"These dirt-crates in any way related to that storm that that seems to be chas'n us?"
Pausing mid stump, Dibbets cocks a squinted and incredulous eye to the Cap'n. Stumping in a little nearer so as not to overly castigate her in front of crew he whispers "Are ye new tae this lass? Iffin yer breakin the job like, ye may as well take a peepsie in the crates afore ye dump em..."
Miro shakes her head at Dibbets, "I already know what's in the crates- trouble. I filled them myself." She sighs, "I need a drink. We all do. Boys, bring up a keg of grog."
You hear a couple of shouts from below which you imagine is a sailor suddenly hauled vertically by a hidden snare, but after the stinking corpses are dumped over, a keg appears and cup passes around. The captain fills a skin and beckons you back to her cabin to hear her tale.
Never one to give up the chance at grog despite the bounty that was purloined, Dibbs takes a cup. Draining it in one blow before washing down the acrid aftertaste with chunks of another apple. When beckoned he follows the captain within.
Kaul sullenly follows suit, when the keg comes to him he scoops it underarm and glares at the crew-members who belayed him earlier.
"A drop fer me an the rest fer Tum... hur-hur-hur"
The thug keeps a tight grip on the captive, and his eyes glint opportunistically when the dirt filled boxes are mentioned...
"Might be they're worth summit? Evil dirt is a rare commodity right enough..."
Jim takes a swig as the cup goes by, then follows the captain. He murmurs an aside to Dibbets. "A bit less flavor than yours, mate, and a great deal less texture."
"This should be a right good story." the Groom takes a big swig from the cup trying to swallow it past the smell of bilge that pervades the group.
Leaving the management of the crew to Rekello, Captain Miro leads you into the Master’s Cabin. The cabin is a study of shadows and elegance. The expansive bay windows at the aft are covered in heavy burgundy curtains and illumination is provided solely by a lantern on a massive writing desk cluttered with maps and navigation gear.
A birdcage on a tall steel pole hangs over the desk, though the tiny door is open and there is no bird to be seen. Though the bed is cloaked in the gloom, by its silhouette, you can see that it is a large canopied affair, piled high with quilts and pillows. The floor is covered in discarded clothing and empty rum bottles.The air holds the lingering scent of perfume.
Captain Miro looks around rubbing her tanned hand through her spiky sun bleached hair. She moves over to open the curtains some and clear off a chair and a raised divan. ”Sit where you like, “ she gestures across the room to the few scattered seats and takes another swig from the skin. Sighing, she sits on the edge of the desk.
Jim perches on the chair, shifts his rapier out of the way and leans back, his attention focused on the captain.
Kaul remains standing just to be ornery.
He sets the well drained keg down and props Tum atop...
Taking the lass purely at her word, Dibbets stumps over to the bed and flops lengthways upon it. Striking a provocative pose atop the quilts he beckons "Keep runnin at yer story lass"
Dingus hikes his robes, and sits lotus style on the floor...Richard climbing forth, and settling in his lap.
Miro rubs her head again. ”Well boys, my tale starts in Plumetown a couple weeks back. I was approached by what I assumed to be a pilgrim, boney fellow in threadbare black robes. He needed someone brave enough or crazy enough to retrieve something for him off Raugsmauda’s Reach. Believe me, I thought twice about a journey to the dead wizard’s dock, but the price he was offering was just too tempting so I asked what he needed. His answer was a couple crates of crumbling black stone found in the Stierwood.”
”I thought that strange, but dismissed it as one of Cenebal the Cyclops Crone’s oddball requests. At least I couldn’t imagine Raugsmauda missing a bit of dirt so I took the job. A week later we’d slipped into a cove off the Reach and were making our way through the Stierwood. No natural forest that, twisted pale trees with barbed roots that grab for you and the little forest creatures… well, those rats were just a taste. Anyway, we managed to load the crates that the man supplied and were rolling them back to the coast when we were attacked by a mob of nasties like the deadmen in the hold. We beat ‘em though it cost us our sea priest and two other officers. Two other crew were badly wounded. We managed to quickly load the ship and shove off, but trouble followed that black dirt.”
Dibbs can't help but think Iffin the dirt were twisted enough to cause this in lockboxes... he's not sure they should be a dumpin it straight inna blue... but he keeps his trap shut and listens.
Miro continues, "I should have known our patron was up to more than paying for prophecies when he set our delivery for Sentinel Island. As you know, there's nothing around there except the Brotherhood... and now nothing but ghosts. I didn't give it much thought at the time so we set a course around the south of the Shackles."
"The first day out there were already problems, more mishaps in the hold, the rats were getting more agressive. Without our priest, we couldn't do much to help the wounded and they weren't getting better. About the time we passed the Cannibal Isles, the first one disappeared. We found him in the lower hold with what was left of another mate. The other," she chokes up and takes a moment to recover. "The other we locked in the officers' cabin, but he escaped. We went after him in the lower hold, but the rats weren't right and whatever the wounded got from the Stierwood, it was spreading. That's when I ordered everyone topside and barred the hatches hoping to hold them off until we got to Sentinel Island. I just hoped that once we unloaded those cursed crates the Brotherhood might be able to help us. Then we found out the monks were all killed. You know the rest."
Ears picking up on details Dibbs prods "Who were the delivery meant tae be to an when?"
Jim listens quietly to the captain's story. I should really sit down one day and master the charts of this place; I don't recognize any of those places except the Smoker.
Kaul eyes Tum warily as the tale unfolds...
Ears picking up on details Dibbs prods "Who were the delivery meant tae be to an when?"
"I don't know who the man in black robes is, but I have my suspicions. We were to meet at Sentinel Island to complete the transaction. I don't think it was coincidence that the Brotherhood were cleared out just before our meetup. That small boat we heard paddling toward us from the east and shrouded in mist brought to mind the legend of a twisted hermit said to haunt the Glangarnies, harvesting bits and pieces off of sailors unfortunate enough to be shipwrecked there..."
"So that hermit's working with Red Aesha? It was her called forth the sea's dead to slaughter the Brotherhood, and I hope you'll forgive us for not speaking her name before this. We've learned a hard lesson in trust from Obreck Dallian, the man who marooned us. He was allied to Red Aesha in secret, which led us to wonder who else might be flying her colors hidden."
Captain Miro's eyes grow wide and she whistles, "Red Aesha? Glad I didn't happen upon that black-hearted b1tch. You sure it was her that called up the dead? I hadn't pinned her as a necromancer, but I wouldn't put it past her to work with one. Still, I don't see either of them looking for companionship. At least beyond harvesting a few bits or warming her bed for a night."
Eyebrows settling further down his forehead like heavy haired caterpillars Dibbets is deep in thought... a swig of rum brings some degree of clarity, but there are many shadows in his thoughts. "What's yer plan now then like? I doubt yer patrons 'd like ye dumpin yer cargo..."
Stroking his filthy chin a few times before adding "An we gots words tae say tae Aesha an Dallian both... we could cut ye in on any booty iffin ye help us hunt the b1tch down like."
"As the tale came to us, she had a, a magic rock. She butchered some poor captured sailors and drained their blood onto it, a great storm came up, and the next night the slain sailors came up from the sea and attacked the monastery."
Miro looks weary again, "My plan? This job has already cost me too dearly." She twists one of the rings on her hand. "I say dump the blasted crates and put as much sea between us and the Glengarnies as possible."
Dibbets spits on the Captain's floor in disgust "Feck me, lass - nows not the time tae be givin up like."
Miro looks annoyed at the scruffy halfling. "The title is Captain and please don't spit on my floor. So what would you suggest?"
Jim chuckles at the halfling. "This isn't Liberty Hall, mate. To the point, Captain, I'm thinking that putting the Glengarnies in our wake is a fine thing indeed. I'm not so sure about dumping the dirt right away, though it's easy for me to make light of it--I've not lost crew in its acquisition. There may be some in Freeport (or elsewhere) who would pay well for it. But I understand not wanting to have the cursed stuff aboard any longer than you must. How long until we make Plumetown?"
the Groom nods at Jim's words. "Aye. The price has been paid, best be seeing to the profit now. If Plumetown be the closest, the better."
He then turns to Dibbets, giving him the look not to splash a more foul liquid on the Captain's floor neither, "Dibs, you have a ways with repairs. Think you could patch up them crates to keep the dirt on the inside? At least till we make port."
Smiling a toothy grin despite the remonstrations Dibbs replies to the Groom "Aye, I ken give the boxes a look like... an see iffin we ken rig a safer way tae keep em." before a lightbulb darkens and re-lights in his head "Hang about, Cap'n how'd the drunken green midgets figger intae that tale?"