Reck studies the door intently, wondering why it got noisy.
"Noishy door, avasht!"
Unable to figure out the root cause, Reck attempts to stand up and investigate.
Staggering over to the door, he swings it open, and...
...trips over Noro, piling on top of her as the deck spins.
"Oh, 'ello Noro."
The brawler is actually kind of comfortable.
...she's going to kill me in the morning...
...trips over Noro, piling on top of her as the deck spins."Oh, 'ello Noro."
The brawler is actually kind of comfortable....she's going to kill me in the morning...
Noro's eyes blink open slowly.
in her blurryed state Not tonight..
as she goes to push him off she realizes that the person she is touching is not who ahe thought it was. she looks more clearly...
GET OFF!! Noro grabs at reck to wrestle him off of her.
But recks is just to big for her.
she continues to struggle under his weight.
Grok snorts and guffaws at their show, slamming her now empty mug down on Fishguts' table.
Isabella climbs into her hammock to contemplate recent events while drifting off to sleep.
So I guess someone found our things, but not sure if Scourge and the captain'll be happy bout letting us have them. No idea if they have any actual raiding planned soon either; they've been mum to the subject it seems. Wonder how long till they decide these new recruits're broken in enough to actually do something piratey? And what's with that rum...funny lookin' frog...whip...sails...and...
And as so often is the case, her thoughts spiral off in all directions as sleep overtakes her.
He watches in wide-eyed amusement while Reck and Noro wind up laying on the ground together. Now he has no idea who's going to sleep with who.
He moves back over to Grok and says, hopefully manipulatively, Wasn't he with you?
why is my bed squirming?
pondering that great mystery, Reck passes out.
The next day, day 3, dawn bright and early for the heavy drinkers, who find themselves wherever they ended up, hung over and feeling like hell.
Repairs. Dex or Profession Sailor.
- Seab the decks - DC 10 strength, and a DC 10 Con not to be fatigued.
Runner- delivering messages. Acrobatics, and a DC 10 Con check.
- Rope work! Noro is feeling it today. Profession Sailor or Strength, and a con check not to be fatigued. Remember, you're down con!
- Line work, lowering and raising sails. Profession Sailor or Dex - and DC 10 not to be fatigued.
Cooking! Ambrose is still insensible from last night. Int or Profession Cooking.
Isabella shrugs at her work assignment. "Scurryin' back and forth repeatin' things to people...whatever happened to teachin' parrots to talk?"
She sighs and goes about it, but is obviously grumpy from the boring work assignment and the continuing effects of the rum ration.
Restless from the apparent lack of important missives and the slow pace of the day, a thought clicks in Isabella's mind. Wonder where they have the rest of our things? Ol' Sarenth found one of me whips, wonder where the other one is? She then starts to wander the ship, looking for any sign of stashed belongings, perhaps in the hold.
Isabella doesn't find much useful ... but she does remember someone saying something about a Quartermaster at some point.
Stealth check not to get caught slacking!
Noro struggles to maintain concentration on her job constantly looking for a place to just sit and sleep some more.
seems her efforts might pay off but for how long?
Sarenth takes his day's duties with a smile. Finding Skipper and getting his spellbook back have made him, as it were, a happy camper. While he's working, he'll seek out the other human who was in the same group as Sandara and the one-eyed Gnome.
Upon finding the man, Sarenth will work his way toward the man, keeping himself busy with work at the same time. "Ahoy, there, Mr. . How are you liking the nautical life?"
Waking - too early - with a pounding headache, Reck keeps his head down and focuses on his work today.
That evening, Reck decides to pass on the rum. Tasty but regrettable. I must be at the height of my abilities in case of action.
After eating, Reck spends more time fishing, letting the soothing crash of waves and blowing wind take his mind off of his hangover.
Laden with more fresh fish, Reck heads to the galley, hoping to find Grok there again and obtain his spell components. Reck won't go drinking again, instead preparing some fish and then heading off to bed.
Durvin wakes up cheerful and refreshed. From the talk, it seems he missed a great deal of hullaballoo. He gets to the galley to find Ambrose completely useless, and realizes he will be responsible for the meal today. He rushes back to his quarters, grabs the book he had been reading, and gets to work. He finds all the ingredients for a nice hearty chowder and sets to work. He is busy chopping, stirring, measuring, and seasoning, and finds that he has actually given himself a nice window of opportunity to kill some time while it stews.
He tries to wake Ambrose, and when he gets him coherent enough, tries to explain to him some simple truths. "Hey, I know you like to drink and all, but I had to make dinner all by myself. Now, I think it's coming along great, but I have one concern. If I do well cooking without you, and you think this ship is toxic, what do you think Mr. Plugg will do with you when he finds you no longer serve him any purpose? It would be in your best interests to stay sober enough to do your job, or else they might be done with you. As your friend, I would hate to see anything untoward happen. So please, for your sake, ease up on the drinking?"
In line with his plea to Ambrose, Durvin once again tries to ditch his rum. He sets it down, and in an act of kindness offers his seat to someone else, 'forgetting' his drink where he was sitting.
Afterward, he tries to coax more of a response from Jape. "So, what did you think about that dinner, heh? Did it all myself. I was thinking, now here's a big guy that could probably put down a nice thick meal. If you wanted, maybe I could take requests, what do you say to that?"
Nobody finds Noro a'nappin'. Her nice little sleep there in a quiet corner does help the hangover a bit. She doesn't get enough sleep to heal Con damage, but she does feel better when she wakes up later.
The stew that Durvin makes is quite good! People eating it for dinner are pleasantly surprised. Perhaps Fishguts being useless isn't such a bad thing ... for the quality of food anyway.
Jape is not as surprised, and eats plenty if his chowder. As to what he has to say to that - well, he says nothing. Apparently tired of the halfling chattering at him cluelessly, he opens his mouth to show Durvin that he has no tongue - its been cut out. Then he shrugs, and eats some more chowder. Its possible the half-orc will never be exctly effusive, he no longer seems to hate the presence of the small would-be cook.
Cogsward grumbles. "No, its that blasted rotgut they spoonfeed us." He seems to appreciate the help, though.
Grok is about, in the Galley. Drunk again! She seems to be happy to see Brillup and Reck, though, and she's snuck Reck his spellbook.
"Dinner'sh good," She tells Brillup, still apparently under the impression that he's the cook's helper. "Thish fish too," Feeding Grok makes her happy!
Grok is at the shop, boredly counting a pile of crossbow bolts and looking a bit hung over. She blinks at the appearance of the frog. "Mornin'."
Grok laughs, "I imagine so. Boy doesn't know how to hold his rum."
He grinds his boot into the deck nervously and looks up at the half-orc, So, I kinda told Rosie I'd help her get her fiddle back. Think you and I can work out some kind of deal?
Grok props her chin on her palm. "That little one with the foul mouth, yeah? Didn't have nothin' to trade me." Grok glances to Brillup with her eyebrows raised.
Grok thinks about that for a little bit, hemming and hawing.
"Well ... because I like you ... and its not like I'm going to sell this old thing to anyone else." Grok nods, "But we get into a fight, you stick by me." She eyes him a moment, then spits on her hand and offers it to him.
He spits and shakes as well. Deal he says readily. You're good people and I'd be sad to see you downed.
Grok grins, showing him her teeth, "Well, don't let that spread that around too much, eh?"
She rummages about to find the battered old violin case to hand over.
Reck accepts his spellbook with gratitude. "For this I call you friend, Grok. If you need my aid I'll fight and bleed for you, and defend your honor like my own."
Surprised at the difference in dinner, Isabella finds the chowder quite a refreshing change of pace from...whatever she was eating before. Somebody find time to actually finish cookin' this time, I suppose.
As she goes to take a swig of her rum ration, she stops with the mug an inch from her lips, considering her situation. I've had rum before. I've had hangovers before. Why's this rum so different? Doesn't taste any worse. Why do I feel like there's somethin' wrong with me each morning?
Lowering the cup, Isabella ponders the possibilities. Wouldn't be much reason to do anything to the food, since it was terrible already 'till now. But why tamper with the rum? What would even be the point?
Taking another spoonful of chowder, she eyes the mug of rum with doubt. Maybe if I just slow down with it. Probably just drinking too fast.
After she finishes her dinner, and a bit later, most of the mug, she goes looking for Sarenth. Seems he's a clever one. Maybe he's got some ideas.
After helping Cogsward and chatting a bit more, Sarenth will return to his own duties for the remainder of the day.
Sarenth reports for dinner, and heads below decks to eat his dinner and spend time with Skipper.
Deep in the night, after the others have gone to sleep in their hammocks, Sarenth will go exploring to see if he can find things that he can use or barter for useful things.
Sarenth is sitting in the bunk area eating his dinner and playing with a small flying dinosaur. He looks up as Isabella comes up to him. "Oops. Guess we were being too noisy. Didn't hear you come up."
Durvin is pleased to see so many people enjoying his meal, though all the same he is still concerned for Ambrose. He decides that, if nothing else, he will offer the man kind words and daily affirmations to encourage him that life can be good even without the booze.
When Jape shows him the reason for his silence, Durvin reminds himself that it's not nice to stare. Sadly all it does is bring up more questions for him, from a guy that can't answer them all the same. He decides to try with some simple yes or no responses.
"Was that punishment?"
"Did it happen while taking a ship?"
"Did it happen on this ship? With this crew?"
"Is the person that did it on board with us? If so, can you point them out?"
"If you have no tongue, can you still taste what I cooked?"
"Do you prefer spicier foods, due to their stronger taste?"
After he learns the information he wants from the man, he decides to look for those he was picked up with, see how their time is going here on board. He decides to find Isabella, she seemed to have a strong work ethic, and equal joy for being onboard ship.
"So, how has your first few days gone? How'd you like tonight's dinner, made it all by myself. I'm learning some new things, and making some friends. The cook says the ship is toxic and the Captain mean, but namely the first mate is someone that delights in treating others maliciously. I also have manged to make a little headway into the good graces of Jape, the half-orc amongst the bunch that came to harry us the other morning. Did you know he is mute? His tongue was cut out. How about you, are you making any new friends?" Durvin speaks kindly to her, as if he already easily considers her amongst one of his friends.
Noro finally awakes from her nap and makes her way to dinner.
she grabs her rum ration, yeah I need that like another hole in the head
She drinks it down anyway.
has her dinner and decides to make her way to her hammock tonight.
Nobody is awake when Sarenth goes padding out of the hall to examine the galley. Skipper comes with him, gliding silently in the dark alongside him. Apparently content to leave her egg for a little bit. The ship is oddly peaceful at night. In the Galley, he finds that Fishguts is asleep in his chair, bottle rolling with the rocking of the ship underneath him. Things are a bit neater as Durvin has been working in here, but still quite messy.
Sarenth finds, in a dusty corner untouched by man in who knows how long, 6 bottles of quite fancy Chelish Brandy. Fishguts doesn't even stir.
Yes, No, Yes, Yes, Yes, No. He does not, however, point anyone out. Too busy eating. It seems he can still taste alright.
Before dinner Brillup stowes the fiddle belowdecks. He is quiet and reserved, but with a nervous energy about him through the meal. Afterwards, he tracks down Rosie.
While searching for her, he'll discreetly dump his rum overboard.
Rosie is on deck, watching the ocean from a perch on some boxes. She looks up at the grippli when she appears.
"Hello, frog. Watcha need?"
"That better not be a f*%*in' euphemism," Rosy notes.
Brillup leads her below decks and to his locker / lockbox. He opens the container with dramatic flourish to reveal Rosie's fiddle. Ta-dah he says with a grin.