Kaul disembarks without returning the warmth, lumbering back onto Freeport's docks seem to have done little to improve the ever present black mood that the thug's been in.
The brute spits as he hits dry land and eyes any dockers or passers by with a belligerent squint.
At Dibb's suggestion he nods;
"Hur... sounds a plan... Gull?
Side of mouth twisting into a smile "Aye... Gull."
the Groom pulls down the brim of his hat in the form of a salute. Thanks for the lift, Captain. Iff'n I find myself on Besmara's deck in the near future, I'll let your friend know you were looking for him." He then sets off down the gangway following the boozehounds. His coins in his pockets clanking with each step, he is not really in the mood to enter a den of thieves. To the others, "Would be good to lighten our load and stow Ding's barrel before a pub crawl."
"Aye, it's bad enough when the docksiders only think we have a sailor's pay."
Stumping a little more awkwardly without old faithful to lean on Dibbs replies "Yeah yeah... but me load is about as light as she'll get until we fill me gut wi' grog" flouncing a little to remind his kin that he's got nary but a kilt to his name.
Before getting off the ship, Dingus opens his barrel to make sure everything is OK. Then to the others, "Hey". "Where should we put our 'supplies' to keep them safe"?
Without breaking stride Kaul answers Dingus's question;
"Gull."
With a lackluster tone, "Looks like three of us take turns sitting on the barrel."
"Could be worse."
Not prepared to waste another moment not drinking, the crew portages their odd jangling barrel through the Docks to the Black Gull. Fortunately, the crew has gained a hardened look and perhaps a glint of madness in their eyes from their recent travails. No one bothers them as they press through the moonlit alleys and into the dim narrow confines of the Black Gull.
As Kaul swaggers along, he sets his shipmates at ease in rumbling tones as they enter the taven;
"Lads... trust me... The Gull is as good as a bank... no-one steals from Big Bad Buster! Hur!"
The thug announces their entrance with an "Oi! Oi!" to the monstrous fellow half orc...
Dibbets finds himself a stool to climb atop and waves down a bottle of hard liquor with a few shots. Once arrived he fills and raises his "To bein home mateys" draining his glass and grimacing with surprise.
Before leaving the ship, into Dingus' barrel, the Groom will drop the small sack he used when he emptied his bulging pockets once on the ship. He leaves enough for tonight's expenses.
In the tavern, he will raise a glass to the safe return.
Jim raises his own glass with a grin. "Aye, I'll drink to that, mates."
Buster gives Kaul a nod of recognition as his small eyes continue to scan the crowd. Mackey at the bar proves more conversant as he fills your glasses. "Been to sea? Couple of howlers passed through recently. How'd you fare?"
With a knowing chuckle Dibbets replies "Oh we floated atop most o' the crap that came our way... that storm from a few days back were one tae remember though... Say, ye got any buttered rum I could take off ye hands?"
Kaul nods in agreement;
"Make that a few Mackey... hur... so is me stash still safe an well? We've a wee bit tae add to it like... for a reasonable keepers fee o'course..."
Dingus walks in and firmly plants his butt on the barrel. He only get's up to be excused once, and leaves Richard to watch from his perch.
Mackey's face twists in distaste, "Butter? Nothin' but booze in here. butter, heh."
The ex-sailor cum bartender eyeballs the riff-raff within earshot. "Aye Kaul, I've still got your knickknacks. This ain't the Vault though."
He casts a questioning glance at the heavy jangling keg the Tianman is perched on. The raven in the cage behind the bar, "Quarks" and ruffles its feathers at the sight of the deadly viper coiled around Dingus' shoulders.
"Hur. Know it ain't the Vault... the Vault ain't got a Buster hur-hur..."
The thug knocks back a shot o' Besmara-knows-what... letting the liquor warm his throat...
"Whats the rustle lately Mackey? - we been afloat a while an only jus back in. Ye heard anythin of the dwarf lassie, used to work tha Mug?"
"Old Dagrit? Too bad about the Mug, it's been good for business here though." He looks over the full bar even at this late hour. "I heard she's some kinda charity type now off Rose Alley on the edge of Scurvytown."
"You'll eat your TEETH!" A shout comes from the back of the crowd and a brawl erupts. Mackie shouts, "You break anything, you bought it!" and efficiently clears glass bottles from the bar. Buster shifts his heavy penny-nail studded club, but makes no move as he keeps his beady eyes on Mackie.
"Shame 'bout Dagrit. Might need to look into some reclamation there."
A fragment of hope at the chance of his favored beverage beverage server being present lends Dibbs a grin "Charity eh? Thanks for the steer"
When the fracas breaks out, Dibbets doesn't even turn from the bar - instead continuing to look quizzically at the glass that held the drink that tasted of the sea to his palate.
Kaul, standing next to the bar looking chipper as mayhem erupts eyes Dibbs quizzically;
"Summit wrong with the grog Dibbs?"
Dibbets frowns and shrugs "Dunno... probly nothin. Anyways, I'm figurin come daybreak one of us has gotta go see Finn. Best we go tae him rather than he come knockin..."
The crew continue drinking unconcerned about the melee at the back of the bar. A tidy auburn waitress ducks behind Jim as a brawny tough grabs for her. A bottle flies overhead to shatter against the old brick wall the Gull shares with a warehouse.
Mackey curses and gives Buster a meaningful look.
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"Fecking hooligans..." Dibbs gives his companions a meaningful glance, along the lines of 'Would you be ever so nice to back my play please chaps?' before he hefts himself up to a standing position on the barstool he's sat on.
Taking a deep breath he singles out the tough who's after the auburn waitress. He then exhales with the captured force of the Skylord in the bugger's face his thumb hoiked towards his longshankian companions... leaving the tough to look between the scarred marauder, soggy crusader for the drowner, sussurant snakelord and clean jawed Taldan to see exactly who he intended.
The words flood forward like a howling storm to play over the man and the crowd behind him... a scent of stagnant saltwater is left in it's wake as Dibbs' kilt ripples in the aftermath of the wind.
Jim casually lets his left arm rest on his rapier hilt, a lazy smile crossing his face as he eyes the target of Dibbets' windy displeasure. The slight shift of position to make it easier for him to jump up quickly may or may not be perceptible.
the Groom pulls his massive crossbow from his back. He pulls the bolt that loads a bolt with a load <CLACK>.
Kaul looks to Jim and the Groom with surprise;
"Easy lads... its a feckin bar brawl not a boardin' action! Nuttin Buster can't handle... sides I've some steam tae let off myself..."
The thug looks toward Mackay and taps his sap with a grin;
"Mind iffen I take the liberty Mackie?"
"Innocent violence it may be, but iff'n anyone get near the barrel, they is getting pressganged to the Seawraith"
The wild wind rips through the narrow bar, swinging the ship's wheel chandelier and knocking over stools. The grabby tough is stopped short by the dangerous ensemble.
Mackey gives Kaul a salute with a tap of his nose, but Buster's baleful gaze falls on the Groom. "Put away the twig tosser, creepy or you'll be smelling the back of your head," he growls.
"Bah. Been away from civilization for too long. Got used to shoot first." the Groom uncocks the crossbow and lays the weapon upon the table, still pointed to the crowd.
Dibbs maintains a dual vigil, wanting to make sure that grabby is suitably chastised... and also that the auburn waitress makes a retreat to wherever she wishes to go.
With baleful glee Kaul wades into the octopus handed patron;
"Hur!"
:
:
Dingus stands atop his barrel when the action starts, and glowers and growls showing his fangs to any who draw near.
Intimidate
Kaul smacks down touchy who totters and then falls keel up. Buster turns away from the Groom to wade back through the brawl which seems to have lost momentum after Dibbets' gale. No one comes anywhere near the freaky creature perched atop the barrel of gold.
Buster returns a few moments later with a man slung over his shoulder. He thunks his big club on the bar a moment to grab the downed patron and hauls them both out the front door. He quickly returns to grab his club and take his usual stool. The waitress gives the crew an appreciative look as everything quiets back down.
Dibbs turns around and plops his arse back down atop the barstool as he continues speaking "Well, as tae what I was sayin before we was interrupted... I'm off tae Finn in the mornin... anyone else comin?"
"I don't know how much I'd add, but might as well. Worst comes to worst, I can spit on the top of his head."
"Would like to stop at the Vault first, if this dive is not to be counted on protecting our barrel. But, then, I think we should show a strong face to Finn."
Kaul looks a little hurt at Groom's slight on the security of the Gull... but nods in agreement;
"Fair 'nuff. Don't want the Gull attractin the wrong sort on account o' our swag!"
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Taking another shot and draining it with a grimace Dibbs nods "Fair enuff... now seein as how it's been a feckin long time since I've been ashore... iffin ye'll excuse me." hopping up onto the bar and clearing his throat "Wake me up come daybreak aye?"
Raising a lusty cry Dibbs begins to bellow as he picks up a bottle of rum...
If you cannae get a woman get a clean old man,
From the lofty heights of Taldor to the shores of old Hermea,
Can you do the double shuffle with your balls in a can."
"Do Your balls hang low, can you swing 'em to and fro?
Can you tie 'em in a knot, can you tie 'em in a bow?
Can you swing'em o'er your shoulder like a Osirian soldier?
When you do a double shuffle do your balls hang low."
"Do your balls hang tight, can you hide 'em in a fight?
Can you tuck 'en neath your arm, can you keep 'em out of sight?
Are they tough enough to buckle up another man's hard knuckles?
When you do a double shuffle do your balls hang tight."
"Do your balls hang loose, as loose as a goose?
Can you slide 'em down the hall, can you bounce 'em off the wall?
Does it really make you stammer when you hit 'em with a hammer?
When you do a double shuffle, do your balls hang loose"
Swigging between the verses and shuffling up and down the bar as his kilt swirls majestically around his midsection... and certain lyrics are punctuated by motions that are less than subtle.
The antics of the crew leave even the hardened salts of the Black Gull rather in awe. As the dim glow of morning lightens the door, a toothless old sailor, weathered and leathery with tufts of white hair sprouting randomly from the chin and around the ears approaches.
He stutters a bit, whether from booze or weariness or intimidation it is hard to tell, but as he gazes over the sideshow, he asks, "S-say mates, which sh-ship do ye s-sail with?"
"Late of the Plumed Lady, but at the moment we're between berths. Why?"
"Plumed Lady, eh? Bet she'd tickle your fancy. Hee-hee. Um, 'night." The old sailor staggers out into the morning light sure to talk about the odd crew he saw at the Gull.
Eyes squinting as the morning light floods in as the old sailor exits Dibbs casts off the cloak of mirth and merriment and turns business. Jumping off the bar to land on the floor with a grunt, stumble and stream of urbane profanity he takes a breath and intones "Right... Vault firsht... then Finn aye?" taking a zig zag route towards the door as he sways. When he reaches the door he catches the side with his bum leg and instinctively throws his weight onto ol' faithful to keep hiimself upright....
Then half a second later, as he spits out dirt from where he face planted in the street, he realises that ol' faithful was stripped out by the tempest. Grumbling words that would make a shearer blush he flops ineffectually as he gets back to standing.
The crew emerge from the Black Gull bleary eyed and weary after a long night of drinking. No one is in any shape to haul the barrel of gold by themselves so with Kaul on one end and Jim on the other, the half mile trek to the Vault is begun.
Out on the docks, the last fishermen are on their way out and the noise reminds the crew of waking up too early in the Broken Mug to the cacophony of the departing fleet. The charred pier where it stood can be seen through the morning mists.
Passing in front of the Longshoreman's Union, the crew receives a fair number of jibes for carrying a barrel instead of rolling it and by the time they reach the Seaside Market, they are thoroughly exhausted and famished and only about halfway to the Vault.
Jim tries to get feeling back into his arms. "Feck this for a lark. Let's get us a wagon, hey?"
"Sounds like a good idea to me". "My head hurts too much to levitate it".