After the long day's work, Sarenth opts to turn in early tonight. He barely has enough in him to eat his dinner and pass some of it to Skipper in her hidden nest. No energy to drink the rum or to hide it, he'll head down below and "forget" it on deck.
Reck spits on the deck.
"Clumsy! Yer callin' me clumsy, yer a sun-addled excuse fer a mangy bilge-rat!" Reck flexes his claws deliberately in the pirate's face. "An' you've seen what I do t' bilge-rats. I'll 'ave yeh in pieces afore you kin blink, you 'ammock 'ogging layabout! Step lively out o' my way or there'll be trouble!"
Reck spits on the deck.
"Clumsy! Yer callin' me clumsy, yer a sun-addled excuse fer a mangy bilge-rat!" Reck flexes his claws deliberately in the pirate's face. "An' you've seen what I do t' bilge-rats. I'll 'ave yeh in pieces afore you kin blink, you 'ammock 'ogging layabout! Step lively out o' my way or there'll be trouble!"
Whatever. you keep that, a gift
Noro turns and heads out to go back on deck. after the smelly biges some fresh air seemed in order
As Noro arrives on deck it would seem entertainment has already started.
watching Reck duke it out would be rather lively entertainment
Noro will try and put herself in a position behind Reck but where the other person can see her. "just to watch" but if things look like they are about to go south all Noro does is aid reck in the staredown by indicating she is backing up reck
Durvin once again finds a way to walk away from his rum unnoticed, placing it on a nearby table while others are eating.
Seeing that there's about to be conflict, he sticks around to see what ends up going down. He stays nearby to see if Reck may need a motivational backdrop to help him in a tussle.
Reck spits on the deck.
"Clumsy! Yer callin' me clumsy, yer a sun-addled excuse fer a mangy bilge-rat!" Reck flexes his claws deliberately in the pirate's face. "An' you've seen what I do t' bilge-rats. I'll 'ave yeh in pieces afore you kin blink, you 'ammock 'ogging layabout! Step lively out o' my way or there'll be trouble!"
Narwhal explodes and starts spewing spittle as he screams, I ain't no Bilge rat, Swabbie! Now apologize or I'm gonna tie those claws to the main mast and fly you like the $&?€¥ Jolly Roger!
Noro standing behind Reck a few paces back just stares at Narwhal and with a wicked smile cracks her knuckles and starts to limber up.
Isabella chuckles to herself as she puts the tantrum-tossing bosun behind her, and her eyes light up as she spies a confrontational half-orc instigating trouble with another crewman. Unconcerned with the dinner and rum rations, she finds a spot among the onlookers to catch the show, and keeps an eye out for Scourge.
Good show'll hold me better'n the swill and spiked rum, I wager...
Joining any cheers from the crowd, she leans in to the nearest crewmate, musing as much to herself as them: "Ought to 'ave one o' these on the week. Ought to keep things lively till we actually do anythin' piratey, aye?"
The crewmate you lean into is "Barefoot" Samms Toppin, a rigger who never wears shoes. Ever. You have heard that she's a former fisherwoman.
She grunts, unimpressed so far. I guess. Boys and their fights.
Without further ado, Reck gets down to the business of cracking skulls.
Narwhal is so worked up that he misses the initial jump. As the fight starts in earnest several excited cheers go up as well as wagers. It can't be long before this ruckus gets noticed.
Getting the jump on Narwhale, Reck kicks him in the knee to knock him to the ground, then claws and bites at the foul pirate - careful not to hurt him TOO badly.
Frustrated by his failure to pound the prone dwarf, Reck snarls and touches the pirate's forehead.
NL: 5 L: 1
Narwhal clearly has no idea he is now branded across the forehead. He growls and hops to his feet, taking a vicious blow in the process, and returns the favor, but the swing is just short.
The crowd roars with approval at the humiliating tactic, attracting the attantion of everyone who wasn't already crowded around to see the fight.
Reck leans back to let Narwhale's fist sail past his face, and snaps at the offending arm. As the pirate is recovering from his swing, Reck hits him with a left jab and a right cross.
With a one-two series Reck puts Narwal on the deck to a mixture of cheers and groans. Just after he hits the deck, an ominous whip crack sounds and the crew makes way for Scourge who is storming up from below decks.
What the Hells is going on here! He bellows. The crew falls silent for fear of being implicated in a lash-worthy offense.
"Seems t'me I missed one o' yer bilge-rats from th' other day! Beggin yer pardon, guv! Yeh want me t' skin this one up fer dinner too?"
Reck leers at Scourge and rolls Narwhal on his back with a foot, so Scourge can see the brand, and stands casually, completely unconcerned about the inevitable lashing.
Smiling at the good-natured brawl as it unfolds, Isabella can't help but chuckle at the Dwarf's new forehead tattoo, temporary or not. At the snap of leather, she scans the deck for the irate bosun, giving a derisive huff at the dreary downer of Scourge's approach.
Does that snobby excuse for a sailor not have anything better to do than break up the only amusement we've had on this ship for a week?
Noro just stands aside to let reck fight.
She smiles at Reck upon his victory, her arms folded across her chest.
she looks to about to clap but the whip crack sounds he she stays put.
waiting to see what Scourge will do.
That is a crew mate, you blind B*&%(d. What's more, he's earned his place on this ship a hundred times over, where as you have yet earn anything more than your &%$* grub. I'm doubtful you've earned even that much. He looks around for a moment, making eye contact with a few in the crowd.
Take him, and tie him to the Post. It's Bloody Hour.
Two large crew mates, Shivikah (a very tall Mwangi ex-slaver), and Maheem (a big Rahadoumi with a permanent scowl), take hold of Reck by the arms and begin to haul him forward.
"'e must 'ave earned it emptying yer chamber pots - 'e certainly didn't earn it fightin'! I'm starting t' see why we 'aven't taken a prize yet - yer a bunch of milk-drinking lovers of boys!"
Reck shrugs off the grasping arms and slips his shirt off. He stands proudly before Scourge.
"Next one o' yeh berry-pickers that lays an 'and on me is gonna get back a stump! I'll take my lumps right 'ere. Make 'em good, Scourge - yer lover boy 'ere didn't give me so much as a love tap!"
Samms mutters, That fool of a Half Orc better cut it out or Plugg is gonna have him in the Box all day tomorrow...
You hear several murmurs around you and evil chuckles. You get the impression that if Reck doesn't stop antagonizing Scourge soon he'll be getting a lot more than a few lashes.
Scourge's eyes are burning with fury. Insubordination, then? he hisses, Tie yourself to that post, Swabbie. Go, or I'll peel the skin off your back. At this point Mr. Plugg appears from the bow cabins. He doesn't say anything at first. He just surveys the situation with a cool confidence.
Reck takes a single claw and rakes it across his own brow, opening up a gash that bleeds freely. As the blood drips down his face, Reck licks at it and bares his teeth at Scourge - and then punches himself in the face.
Reck roars in laughter at the pain, shaking his head side to side to spray blood and spittle. He bellows at Scourge: "Get t' 'itting me afore I lose patience an' do th' job myself! Are yeh man enough? Do I 'ave t' BEG for a whippin?"
Lets see what kind of stuff this dandy rat is made of.
Noro steps forward.
I'll tie him up shir.
Noro goes to Reck and starts to tie hime up for his lashings trying to keep recks attention on Noro.
Pleashe, shtop thish, he ish only getting angrier. You may find yourshelf in a lot worse s*!!uation. jusht take your lashes and be done with it
Isabella cocks an eyebrow at at Samms.
"Don't think he's concerned overmuch bout the box, luv. Odds are even he's just the first. Me first coin o' plunder says he won't be the last at this rate."
Won't be long now. Drugged rum, no piratin', a lily livered bosun, and not a captain to be seen for a week. Mutiny's comin'.
the scarlet maned sailor shakes her head in disappointment as Noro moves to help tie the rowdy orc up. Now this should be a show worth the trouble...
On the off chance that she catches Scourge's gaze, Isabella shrugs with a knowing smirk, as if to say 'I told you so' without a word.
As Noro approaches him, Reck raises a clawed fist as if to strike her - but his stance is all wrong. He's standing flat footed, not the fighter's stance that lets one put his whole weight into a swing. Noro's experienced eyes can easily pick out that Reck isn't really intending on swinging: His threat is just a bluff.
As it happens, Scourge's eyes do meet yours. You see that he'd very much like to have a reason to put you on the post right after Reck. As it also happens, Mr. Plugg also looks at you. His gaze is calmer, like the grey waters that threaten a storm.
Noro stands her ground, the look ing her eye saying, "go on, I dare you"
this to, is a bluff to appease scourge.
Noro continues as before the nods to Scourge to continue.
"'Eartens me t'see there's at least ONE person aboard with a swingin' pair!" Reck snarls, as Noro binds his hands.
As the whip is drawn back for the first strike, Reck bends his neck and gnashes his teeth on the rope binding him.
Reck extends his arms as the blows fall to show that he's no longer restrained, yet makes no attempt to dodge the blows or escape. As the whipping happens, he makes eye contact with the various pirates still hostile to his little group, and lets them know with his glare exactly who they're aligning themselves against.
Scourge lays into Reck, even as his arms raise. At first the crew counts as every lash lands with enthusiasm, even gusto. But as the count passes six and then ten, the crew grows silent. The brutal lashing totals twelve in all, nearly rendering you unconscious.
Finally, Scourge stops and you hear heavier boots approach from behind. Mr. Plugg speaks softly, then retires to his place at the wheel.
Think hard about what her doin', half-blood.
The excitement of the night gives way to the usual gambling and drinking, but it seems to be subdued compared to a good lashing. Everyone gives Reck room. If nothing else, he has proven that he never says die. The crew gives him lots of space and plenty of open stares.
The next day dawns brilliantly red and threatening. Every pirate performs his lucky taps, whistles and knocks, but just after breakfast the rain starts. It's a depressing, steady, heavy rain that soaks the soul and only gets heavier as the day progresses.
The officers seem a little nervous today. Everyone, even Reck who is not on good terms, is assigned to duties like rope hauling, repair, checking cargo security, and the like. Scourge and Mr. Pugg are both very visible and double check every knot and loop on the ship.
Durvin! Good. We need something fresh. I have a feeling in my bones that this is just the beginning. The crew's gonna need something special today. Grab some harpoons from the hold and catch one o' them Leatherneck turtles or two. I'm gonna try to keep this galley hot. We loose this fire and things will get bitter, mark my words.
Reck calmly responds to Plugg: "get a stream of prizes comin' an' you won't 'ave a bit o' trouble with me."
As he works, Reck makes it a point to pass by Narwhal and make little squeaking noises like a rat.
Sarenth takes to the task of hauling rope unaware of what transpired the night before. He also checks on Skipper and decides to do some hunting for her. As he's sneaking around gathering rats, he hears some of the other crew members muttering about the whipping that happened after he had passed out. He goes to find Isabella to ask what happened.
Durvin, like always, is eager to have something to do to help out. If Ambrose needs his help, then he will do his best to be a good cook's assistant. "Sure thing Ambrose.. that reminds me of a funny rumor that had gone around my hometown of Korvosa for a bit. There was talk of a wereret follower of Gozreh that was awakening a group of turtles to take over the city in late night strikes. It was wild, but when they investigated, it was just a ratfolk who had trained a few of them to recover valuables from the sewer and river bottoms. It's funny how crazy stories can grow."
He takes the tools out, and as the crews work, he works on catching some turtle for supper.
Noro decides today is a good day to get some work done. she has shirked her responsibilities the past two days. now she will be watched. best do some good.
After a couple nights without spiked rum, the sea breeze takes on a whole new taste. The sun, slightly irritating the last few mornings, actually invigorates Isabella's limbs, and she collects her duties and tools with zeal; Spotting Scourge and Plugg both eyeing the crew like hungry hawks only elicits jovial laughter.
Taking a moment to remove and readjust her headband gives her a much needed chance to stretch not only her neck, but her face and jaw; she'd been a bit dour lately, and her frowning muscles needed a break. She works to suppress her grin as she thinks of Scourge's attitude and his predicament.
uppity sod's got a mutiny brewing, and he knows it. Should be fun to see how long he can stave it off. That Plugg though...can't quite read him yet."
Isabella handles her hammer and nails comfortably now; the task of maintaining a ship seems far less drudging to her than some sailors might grumble. There's no excitement in it, but it takes little concentration, allowing her to keep her eyes peeled for other happenings of import, and to regale Sarenth with Reck's bold behavior.
"Shoulda seen 'im, Sarenth. Taunted that Dwarf to blows and laid 'im flat as a plank before Scourge even heard the deck thump, then bit through his ropes and took a dozen lashes like a brothel back rub. Remind me not to cross him without immense plunder on the line, aye?"
As she grips a rotten board, she takes a glance around to make sure Scourge is focusing elsewhere before motioning Sarenth closer. "This one's in tight. Lend a hand, would ya?"
As the two stand together and pull the board free, she lowers her voice without moving her head. Ship's bout to mutiny soon; if Reck won't start it, someone will. Any sign o' of the cap'n?"
Leaning in to help with the tight board, Sarenth returns, Haven't seen him in some time. I'll stand with you in a mutiny, but now may not be the time. Let's see how many of the crew we can get on our side before any moves are made. We have Sandara, and I think we have Cog. Any more that you know of? If we can get a few more on our side, though, it will help. Right now, it's odds against."
You all spend a wet, miserable day hard at work. Sarenth and Isabella are able to confirm that they have a total of 6 people on their side if they include Ambrose and Grok, about 1/3 of the crew. Unfortunately, the people that they determine are on the fence will likely side with Mr. Pugg or Scourge should it come to blows.
Dinner time arrives with a fresh surprise. Ambrose has managed to cook something above and beyond simply edible for once in his life. Fresh turtle meat in a thick stew with some fruit and salted pork greet you as you come near the galley for your helpings. Too bad it's accompanied with the same hard biscuits and rum. The crew, however, is thrilled, tucking in and devouring their portions without much talking.
The evening activities are all still had, except that they are all set up on the cramped cargo deck. Men stand around the various activities instead of sitting as water drips on them from the persistent rain outside.
Reck eschews the 'comfort' of belowdecks. Stripping to his underclothes, he climbs the ratlines that head to the crow's nest on the mainmast.
As the storm rages around him, Reck exults in the power of the gale and thrills at the torrential rain that drenches him.
Durvin once again quite handily rids himself of the awful drink before making his way around to the rest of the crew. He offers some of his serving of turtle to Jape, and then heads over to Syl, coyly hinting at his part in catching the turtle for the night's meal. The general dreariness of the weather, though, has everyone so morose that he feels tonight would be a good one for a cheery tune.
So I just did me some talkin' to the sun
And I said I didn't like the way he got things done
Sleepin' on the job
Those raindrops are fallin' on my head, they keep fallin'"
Grabbing a plate of the refreshingly tasty cuisine, Isabella is so engrossed in sampling the new fare that she forgets her mug of rum somewhere on the way to finding a spot. By the time she goes to reach for it, she absentmindedly grabs another sailor's empty mug, and sighs. Realization dawns on her, however, and her eyes shift from side to side to check for suspicious eyes as she sets the mug back down.
We end up with a changing of the guard and that poison's the first thing I dump; good riddance till we get some clean rum.
A bite of salt pork revitalizes Isabella's forlorn taste buds as she ponders her situation and the status of the ship. Her eyes pass from crewman to crewman, in a vain attempt to feel out how a potential mutiny would go, but she'd never been involved in one before; most of her intuition was blind at this point.
Not that I've a silver tongue or anything; If I was any good at swoonin' men I might not be on this ship. Then again, maybe it's luck I'm not...That Sarenth fellow seems to know his way round a befriendin' and that halfling's got a mouth likely faster than his feet. Reck'll take on all comers I wager, and that lisping lass's got a better head than she sounds.
As the last spoonfuls of stew disappear, Isabella walks in silence to turn in her dishes, and bids the room a goodnight nod to head to her bunk.
Lying back in her hammock, Isabella crosses her arms while her thoughts continue to wander, but soon finds sleep overtaking her. A worthwhile day of work would bring a good rest, she imagined.
Best to just let it play out, I suppose. Somebody else starts it, somebody else gets the blame if it fails; if it succeeds, it'll be easy to step into it and turn that whip back on it's wielder for once. Show that sorry sight of a boatswain how it's done. She yawns wide as her eyes droop.
Now if I can just find me other whip...ZzZzZzZz
After collecting his serving of turtle stew from Kroop and Durvin, Sarenth will wander over to where Grok is dishing out the rum and make sure he's last in line. Once it's his turn and the last few crewmembers have wandered away, he'll pipe up, "You know, as much as rum fits a good sea shanty, I find what really warms one up in a storm is a nice Chelish brandy. Might you have any interest in joining me for a cup? I happen to have a bottle I would be willing to share, if you care to join me."