Not flinching as the man swings out an arm at him and gives him his orders for the day, Trevor replies, "Yes sir!"
He immediately sets to tending to the various ropes of the ship. He focuses on his work entirely, and, despite his exhaustion, goes about it very well. He coils the various lengths of rope as neatly as he can, and keeps them well organized.
Thank goodness they needed the new crew. I couldn't have lasted another couple days out on that ocean.
Once his work is finished for the day, he waits to make sure the ship's officers approve of his work before heading down to an early nights rest in the belly of the Wormwood.
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The bilges. It was not a job that Osir wanted. He understood that his muscles made him stand out as a good candidate for the job, but thus far the Wormwood had put few of his true talents to use. He should be an officer, not a swab.
The cramped, wet, and hot conditions of the miserable place below decks and beneath the water line did not improve his mood. He didn't much care for confined spaces. He liked to feel the sun on his head and the wind in his face. Grumbling he dipped the bucket into the waist deep water and began hauling it out of the ship, climbing the steps to the disposal area before submerging half way in the water again.
He saw that one of the driftwood survivors was working with him and decided to offer a little conversation. "This ship is lousy with treachery, mate. I think the Sahaugin had help in ending ol' Runolf's life. Zenu, isn't it? Tell you what, keep a watch on my back and i'll watch yours, sound like a deal?" Osir said as he continued the miserable work.
After a few hours of the strenous work, work that was easy for him even if unpleasant, he decided to test the loyalty of the new arrival. "You seem to like the water, stay here and keep at it, I will be back in a bit." Osir didn't wait for Zenu to object, handing the elf his bucket and quickly leaving the bilge himself.
That night Osir decided that he would return to the arm wrestling games. He was eager to grow his reputation and after his defeat of the half-orc he was fairly certain he was on course to do so. He encouraged some of those who had cheered for him the previous night to engage in matches themselves, before he would himself push his way to the front and offer a bold challenge to all comers.
"We've seen that Orc blood is no match for the strength that runs in the Korzar bloodline. Unless you want a repeat lesson Jape? What about you Fipps, you man enough to stand up to me or have you learned your place?" White teeth flashed within the darkness of his black beard. He displayed his grinning smile in open challenge, finding amusement in turning Fipp's words back on him. The scum had said the same thing to him when they tried to ambush them in the morning.
Mabelode nods to his job, happy it keeps him on deck in the sun and freshest air. He busies himself hauling rope and repairing the rigging that was damaged during the fighting. He attempts to chit chat with any indifferent sailor who he shares the daily task. He tries to get the story of the fight and become friends. The day goes by better with wearing his favorite wooden armor.
He works himself to exhaustion, so he goes to bed early to recover.
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Saranaja frowns at finding herself stuck with dealing with the ship's vermin. It's a relatively easy job for her, but anything to do with such filthy creatures makes her skin crawl. When she spots a bipedal rat clambering around in the rigging she is almost tempted to send a dagger his way. It wouldn't be quite so bad as having a ghoul on board the ship, but it would be close...
She heads below decks, lazily skewering a few bugs and rodents that she spots, but otherwise avoids them as much as possible. Instead she chats up her rescuer , and directs him to the collection of the corpses rather than risk touching them herself. She plies Robinton for as much information as she can about the crew, shipboard politics, available diversions, and anything else about the current situation she can extract from him, while sizing up her fellow crewmembers.
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Saranaja is pleased when the ship turns to more pleasant pursuits at night time, but even with the ale watered down, after the previous day and night she finds herself struggling to remain awake. She reluctantly gives into the call of her hammock, and collapses into it early during the night, exhaustion claiming her.
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Caerlei finds herself treating Fishguts a fair deal nicer than she has previously. No longer teasing him with empty flirtations or menacing threats of pain firmly in the realm of perverse, she has realized that having Grok on her side as a firm ally is far preferable to the alternative; if keeping the half-orc happy meant treating Kroops fairly, it was a small price to pay. That Caerlei had witnessed thus far, it simply meant watching the man drink and listening to his stories while offering the occasional praise to his prize chicken. Kroops' state of general drunkenness also afforded the kyton-spawn no shortage of easy opportunities to disperse her rum ration without fear of reprisal.
Part of Caerlei would have liked to admit a pang of remorse over the loss of Sareivat and Runolf. Truth be told, she truly didn't give a s*$+, however. They were foolish to be caught unawares; whether they died to treachery or their own ineptitude in the fighting, it was probably for the better that it happen so soon rather than later. New alliances could still be forged. Caerlei's eggs were not all in the same basket yet, and she would be damned if she'd let the seas claim her after all she had survived up until this point. Too many necks deserved a blade on the Wormwood, and she aimed to deliver—all in good time. For now, she busies herself preparing a meal actually fit for consumption.
The hammerhead she had managed to lance from atop the jolly boat's prow proves a boon beyond compare to Caerlei's admittedly lacking culinary acumen. She has heard of shark fin soup before, but has never found occasion to attempt the dish. While what she creates bears absolutely no resemblance to the dish at all, it does manage to prove appetizing regardless. Unfortunately, the general crew will never taste it; she reserves 'Caerlei's Shark Fin Soup' for the officers, but hacks the rest of the shark into fillets that she marinades and cooks in her share of the rum—plus some other random assortments of spices. The end result is a meal that many on the boat would no doubt remember for weeks to come: shark steaks and shark broth, all expertly prepared against all odds.
After dinner, Caerlei retires early. Given the ordeal out at sea and the frenzy in the kitchen, she finds herself too exhausted to ply her wiles on any of the other crew.
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When given his assignment by Plumm, Zenu smiles and nods vaguely, too distracted by the swaying of the ship to be too objectionable. A faintly familiar queasiness builds in his gut, and the half-elf frowns, pushing it away as one of the men who'd helped to rescue him speaks up to state his suspicions of aid from within the Wormwood. Presumably, Runolf was one of the bodies tossed overboard. Zenu gathers himself, then smiles at Osir. "You think?" He asks, nodding. "Yes, I am Zenu... And I'll keep an eye on your back, sure." The sorcerer nods easily, accepting the offer with an easy grin. Well, he'd do it - not like it hurt him much, after all - but if it turned out not to be in his best interests to do so, he might give up. After all, being bound by anything, even his own word, was simply intolerable!
He takes the bucket from Osir with an arched brow. " 'Watch my back, eh? Well, when you ask that, then promptly leave me to accomplish it on my own, I tend to be..." Zenu trails off, a frown on his face even as he continues to do the work that he sees the others doing.
When he finally gets off of work at night, Zenu walks quietly towards the elven woman he had noticed during the day. Peering at her for a few moments, he greets her politely, smiling cheerfully. "ಗ್ರೀಟಿಂಗ್, ನಾನು ಸಿಲ್ವರ್ ನೀರಿನ ಮನುಷ್ಯ. ನಾನು ನಿಮ್ಮ ಹೆಸರು ಕೇಳಬಹುದು?" He pauses, smiling brightly. "ಈ ಹಡಗು ನನ್ನನ್ನು ಮಾರ್ಗದರ್ಶನ ಸಿದ್ಧರಿದ್ದರೆ ಇರಬಹುದು ನಾನು ಆಶ್ಚರ್ಯ ಪಡುವ ಮಾಡಲಾಯಿತು."
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"Hello, my name is Zenu. Might I know your name?"
"I thought that, as I am new, you might be willing to guide me whilst I'm on this ship?"
As Osir slips away from his duties to explore the rest of the ship, he finds the way into the Officer's quarters locked from the main deck, and visciously guarded by the dimwitted 'pet' of Mister Plugg from the from the cargo hold below; The tar'd-and-feathered sailor, known as 'Owlbear' by the crew, lets no one except the officers into the quarters - his massive physique is enough to hold even Osir at bay, should he attempt to force his way through.
However, taking the time to chat up Ratline while he shirks his duties, Osir is able to turn the small humanoid ratfolk to his side somewhat and learn more about what is in the Officer's quarters; The room he seeks to explore is the ship's Armory, where the ship's cranky and foul-mouthed Master Gunner, Riaris Krine, keeps a large amount of weapons stored. Ratline is quick to warn Osir that Krine is meticulous - nothing goes by her watch, and if Osir is insane enough to attempt theft from the Armory, he will be found out.
---
After the night's meal, Osir's attempt at counter-bullying Fipps works - the man, getting angry about the reminder of what happened the day before, agrees to Osir's challenge.
Sitting down together over a barrel covered in caltrops and other sharp objects, the two look like they're about to have an epic arm wrestling match - numerous other crewmembers watch, placing bets and predicting who will win.
The odds favor Osir - though about the same height and Fipps being the rounder of the two, Osir's muscles nearly put the other to shame. Unsurprisingly enough, just as the 'referee' Ortov yells for them to start, Osir completely smashes Fipps' arm down into a caltrop so hard and so fast that the barrel creaks from the strain, and a loud crack can be heard from Fipps' arm - Osir likely broke the man's arm, not to mention causing severe damage through the caltrop and other sharp bits now portruding from it.
Fipps, yelling in equal parts pain and surprise at the sudden onslaught and strength, is in shock for a moment until Sandara, acting quickly to prevent Plugg or Scourge from investigating, rips the pieces of metal out of the man's arm and heals it completely with a word of magic.
His ego unhealed from Sandara's actions, Fipps knocks over the barrel in anger and looks at Osir in the eyes, his malice showing plainly, before turning and heading to his corner of the ship behind the stairs, where his hammock hangs.
Osir, winning numerous people gold from their bets, was given five gold pieces as part of his actions - the other crew were impressed by his brutal onslaught, and in all likelyhood, none would dare challenge him at arm wrestling again, for fear of their arms' future well being.
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Working alongside Mabelode repairing the rigging is a Garundi man known as 'Shirtless' Shag - his name is quickly apparent by his shirtless chest and long, shaggy hair that is quite uncommon amongst his kind, as many Garundi keep their hair short or bald. This man, however, grows his long, with the stiff hair standing up despite its' length, appearing to be some sort of untamed afro - random odds and ends, ranging from twigs to bird droppings, stick out or stick to the hair, and the man seems to care not, instead focusing primarily on his work.
Mabelode, attempting to find out what happened on the ship while they were out rescuing survivors, finds the man relatively friendly, if odd and foul-smelling even for a sailor. Apparently, after the jollyboat had left sight of the Wormwood, over a dozen Sahuagin boarded the ship stealthily, using the fog as cover - they struck all at once. They seemed to have been lead by a massive, four-armed Sahuagin that wielded two tridents simultaneously - this is the creature that pierced one of Mabelode's friends in the chest, while another sahuagin bit into the other man's neck, ripping a chunk out. They stuck so fast that even the Captain didn't notice the boarding in time.
That quickly changed, however, when Captain Harrigan whipped out his favorite dagger and began butchering the sahuagin - only the four-armed one escaped, as the crew struck back mercilessly. One Sahuagin had his heart ripped out by Harrigan using his dagger, who then ate the heart, likely as an intimidation tactic. It worked.
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While 'working' on catching bugs and rats alongside Robinton, who doesn't really want to help dispose of the corpses but does so anyways, Saranaja catches the eye of someone she didn't expect - the catfolk, whom she finds out to be named J'Zarrgo. He explains how he watched her eye the Ratfolk warily, and immediately felt an odd kinship with her - a kinship of predators, for he, too, thinks the Ratfolk is little more than a nuisance - and potential prey.
The catfolk all but replaces Robinton with helping her with her job, to the relief of the bard, who goes back to doing his own job - one that he had been neglecting. J'Zarrgo explains to Saranaja the shipboard politics of having friends, watching ones' back, and generally not trusting the shorter prey, as he calls them.
Despite their obvious differences in species, the catfolk seems almost attracted to the Vishkanya, one that may or may not be returned. Robinton, as he leaves, certainly finds the catfolk's attraction comical, and is nearly clawed by J'Zarrgo as he attempts to point it out.
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At night, when Zenu attempts to talk to the Elven woman known as Aretta 'Half-elf' Bansion, likely named as such due to the fact she's missing an ear, he is first met with an angry woman who almost seems as if she is ready to put a knife in his gut. However, speaking in her native tongue is enough to get her to talk with something other than a weapon. Though she quickly proves rude, mean, and generally unpleasant, she also proves willing to speak to Zenu - even if, by her words, he is a 'filthy halfbreed'.
Speaking entirely in Elven, she warns him of some of the crew - namely, of the 'demon-witch' known as Caerlei, the dimwitted-brute known as Osir, and the pale-skinned creep known as Mabelode. Not to mention the cowardly bard who follows them around, and the slut-priestess known as Sandara Quinn. Her use of foul language and insults seems to be common about everyone she speaks about - she speaks about no one worse than Ortov however,, the ship's resident Hobgoblin, who Zenu finds out is the one who took her ear - the bastard still wears it, along with other ears, as a sick sort of trophy.
She also has nothing but praise for Plugg and Scourge - who, though they may be hard-asses, are men just trying to keep the ship's crew in line and serve Captain Harrigan. When speaking of the Captain's old friend, and the ship's Sailing Master, Peppery Longfarthing, who is also a sorceress. Aretta goes into great detail about the woman - speaking of her sensual beauty, busty figure, and going into almost pornographic detail - Zenu quickly realizes that Aretta is completely obsessed with the woman - and, possibly to his disappointment, is not even attracted to men at all.
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<< | | | | >>
With all of the excitement from yesterday's ambush, the crew wake up almost hoping to have the normal routine back on track - even if it means being yelled at by the Wormwoods' less-than-friendly officers. With the morning bell sounding and Plugg issuing everyone their daily tasks, along with a generous helping of cursing for the ruckus last night with arm wrestling, the day starts off as normal as anyone could hope for.
The day is nice and clear, the fog from yesterday's burning ship having long since been left by the sailing ship. The weather is warm, though not too much so, and it is an idealic, relaxing day - as much as press-gangees upon a notorious pirate vessel officer'd by cut-throat pirates can be, at least.
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Trevor was grateful that Plugg, the apparent First Mate, had given him a rigging job. He loved being up in the breeze, especially on a pleasant day. His experience at sea and natural agility made the work a good fit for him, and also, from the vantage, a lot could be learned about the ship. He quickly pieced together who was and wasn't new aboard the Wormwood.
He also quickly learned who did and did not like the new crew, and decided it was best to gather what allies he could quickly. He felt certain of Zenu and Sarnaja, and those aboard the longboat appeared to have banded together. However, Trevor wasn't sure exactly what the true political standpoint of the ship was, so he decided, during a meal break, to learn what he could. He made his way over to Shag, who had seemed an able enough rigger himself.
"Greetings. My name is Trevor, mind if I join you for a bit?" If the man offers no objections, he has a seat and then asks, "What can you tell me about the ship and her captain? Don't want to step on anyone's toes and get a one way pass back onto some flotsam! know what I mean?"
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Day 4
Mabelode receives his job as runner with enthusiasm. While he doesn't linger, he gets to see almost the whole of the ship. He attempts to chit chat with any indifferent sailor who he shares the daily task and discover their story.
He works himself to exhaustion, so he goes to bed early to recover.
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Jack Scrimshaw.
Osir hated Rat-catching almost as much as he hated working in the cramped quarters of the bilge. He wanted to be a sailor to feel the wind on his head and breathe the salty air of the sea, not scurry through cramped quarters killing rats and roaches. If he had signed up, this wouldn't have been what he'd signed up for!
He went about the miserable work, but tried to keep to the upper decks as much as possible, utilizing his Osprey to hunt for the larger rats. Even when the bugger's scurried where Pelinor could not go, the raptor let Osir know where the rats were hiding and he proceeded to spear them with his trident. He let his friend eat one or two, but then sent Pelinor away to hunt fish as was the creature's proper diet.
Sometime during mid-day, Osir managed to slip away long enough to head over to the rigging and strike up a conversation with the ratfolk pirate. He'd never encountered one of the ratfolk before and found it rather strange to be killing rats one moment and then conversing with a creature that shared such similar physical characteristics the next, but he tried to go with the tide.
"Blood and Piss! Osir cursed as he came over to the Ratfolk. "I tell you, this is no fitting task for a man like me. Mark my words I am going to repay the Captain and his goons for all this. They don't even let us know where we are going... So how did you end up on the Wormwood? Did they enlist your service in a similar manner?"
Saranaja awakes refreshed and relaxed from her night's sleep, most of the aches and pains from the shipwreck thankfully faded. She is disappointed to find herself alone in her hammock, but rolls out of it after only a brief sigh to track down some food and ready herself for the day.
Her task is marginally better than the previous day's, giving her a chance at some sunshine and distancing her somewhat from the vermin below-decks. After a few hours of manhandling ropes however she finds her limited willingness to perform menial tasks waning and heads off in search of her companion from yesterday. When she manages to track him down she 'invites' him to help her reenact the tattoo on her shoulder depicting a tiger being bitten by a snake, unnecessarily lowering her blouse to show it off. Eager to complete her conquest however, her efforts at finding a discrete spot are somewhat lacking perhaps...
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When Zenu hears his assigned task, his face falls slightly, and he shakes his head sadly. A job working in the depths of the ship? How... unsatisfying. He sighs softly, then shrugging. Well, no use whining about it, after all, best to get moving.
As he goes about his work, he takes the time to chat with the halfling, who is assigned to the same job. Mostly he chats with her about the ocean and his own quest from the woodlands of Kyonin to find a ship called the Sting of Sovyrian, though he does indicate an interest in her own background and story as well, should she be inclined to share it. Noticing Osir focusing his charms on the ratfolk, he shrugs, and avoids speaking too much with him. If the Lady Benison was anything to go by, at least, he was not to be trusted. If she wasn't, well, then it would be best not to show allegiances too swiftly. Never know who might report rebellion, after all.
Though he does not slack off, the half-elf is not quite as productive as he had been the day before. However, fortunately for him, he manages to catch a fair few nasty little critters, which he disposes of with a quiet sort of regret. It is hard work, and it stinks awfully, but nevertheless, Zenu perseveres, encouraging those assigned with him as well.
After finishing his work, he takes a moment to speak to Osir. "Not leaving the work to the rest of us this time, are we? Good work!" He winks cheerfully, then moves on.
Later that night, he wanders over to speak with the, how had the lady elf spoken of her, "slut-priestess?" Adopting his most charming grin, he bows his head in polite greeting to her. "I would bow deeper, but after spending the day belowdecks, I'm afraid I might never straighten back up! I'm Zenu, by the way, and I hear you're a priestess?" He pauses, grinning at the woman. "It never hurts to get to know one's healer, so I figured I might drop by and chat." And chat he does, asking her about how she was brought on board the Wormwood, talking a great deal about his past and asking her whether she knows anything about his mother's ship. Finally, he bids her a goodnight, kissing her hand in with a deliberately absurd flourish, and goes to bed.
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"Worry not, my debris clinging friend, in all instances I will provide the work needed to complete the task set before me. Are you still bitter about the bucket duty? Don't be." Osir offered a fair laugh, his Polyglot accent coming through in his use of the tongue common to the men of Cheliax.
He dropped his voice to a whisper and added. "I may have slipped off, but I did my work, no two shakes about it. When strength is called for, I can do the work of a lesser man in half the time. My victories at the nightly arm-wrestling isn't due to my charms."
Caerlei affords little attention to Kroop. By now, she's heard the majority of his slurred stories, and the annoying buzz of the man's yammering in the background is a headache she has no interest in attending today. Fortunately, a group of sea turtles seem to be in the midst of a mating season, which calls Caerlei to work outside of the cook's quarters. About as enthralled with the idea of hunting turtles as scraping her gums with splinters from the ship's railing, it is still an opportunity to escape Fishgut's unceasing ranting. To help pass the time, Caerlei decides to cut her rum ration with water instead of sneaking it into the cook's cup again, bearing the unfortunate consequence of a drunk Caerlei who has utterly no clue as to how to catch a turtle.
As night rolls around, the kyton-spawn elects to ply her wiles on an unlikely target: 'Ears' Ortov. Noticing the macabre decorations the hobgoblin seems to favor, she thinks to impress him with her vast knowledge of tortures learned under the tutelage of Zon-Kuthite priests as a child. Methods intended to prolong the pleasure for heightened effect to both flayer and flayed alike.
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'Shirtless' Shag, as he introduces himself in response to Trevor, the horrid smell of his breath accosting the swashbuckler. Though wary, he seems friendly enough, and Trevor had spotted Mabelode speaking with the very same man the day before. Trevor learns much the same as the others: Watch your back, don't piss off Plugg, and be wary of Scourge and his cronies. Simple stuff. The less you appear as a 'threat', the less notice you'll acquire. Such a thing is good on a ship like this.
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Kept busy throughout the day, Mabelode is hard pressed to find time to speak with anyone; However, during a short-lasting lull in being yelled at by Plugg to go deliver messages, Mabelode is able to speak with one of the riggers: A younger lad who is known as Jack 'Scrimshaw'. The kid, barely an adult, is quick on his feet and agile, and speaks with Mabelode as he does his day's line work. He is known by that name thanks to his fondness of carving scrimshaw into bones when he can get access to them; He wears a necklace full of scrimshawed carvings, in fact.
Speaking to him, however, proves less than fruitless - Jack is wary of the pale skinned man, and doesn't choose to go into detail about his 'story'. The conversation seems mostly fruitless except for Mabelode finding out about different kinds of scrimshaw techniques - something of little value to cleric.
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Not particularly paying much attention to those slaying his distantly-related kin, Ratline is less than happy when Pelinor shows up with one in it's claws. Still, he enjoys Osir's company, if not the company of his pet, and goes on about how he came aboard the Wormwood.
The tale is a simple one; back in Port Peril, a few weeks before Osir and his group were 'hired', he was desperate for work. Sadly, the Wormwood was the only ship at the time willing to take on a Ratfolk - something that he appreciates, even though the officers are less than friendly. Ratline much preferred the cramped conditions of his nest's old warrens to the wide-open of the sea, but has found his skills to be equally useful onboard the cramped conditions of a pirate ship. He's often appointed the ship's lookout due to his keen eyesight - something he finds humorous, considering the tengu aboard the ship. The bird is down on decks, hunting rats and bugs, while the rat is up top, climbing the rigging and keeping watch.
He doesn't much get along with either J'Zarrgo or Chak-Chak, for various obvious reasons.
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J'Zarrgo proves to be a very friendly 'kitty' when rubbed the right way, as Saranaja quickly finds out. However, before they can get to the job, they are nearly caught by Scourge, who came below decks to try and have his own way with none other than Sandara Quinn.
As Saranaja and J'Zarrgo quickly slip out unnoticed, Sandara spots them, though doesn't call for help; Despite Scourge trying to have his way with her, she is able to send him flying into the wall of the ship by conjuring a surge of water. Soaked and humiliated, Scourge looks like he is about to strike at Sandara, though when he spots Kroop walking into the room, drunk, he is forced to act as if nothing happened between the two. Instead, he lets out his anger on Kroop, who suffers a single lashing on the shoulder for his drunkeness - he barely seems to notice. Sandara is able to quickly slip out of the room behind Saranaja and J'Zarrgo, before heading back to her job along with the others.
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Speaking to the Hobgoblin known as 'Ears' Ortov, Osir finds him to be a surly bastard barely willing to speak to him - at least, until Osir mentions how he and his group stood up against Aretta and her ilk. The hobgoblin, though not 'warmed up' to him, does at least begin to talk - he is not well liked by any of the crew, likely in part to his boastful attitude about his pistol skills. Skills that, he says, he has proven on numerous occasions.
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Saranaja--well practiced by now at making a quick getaway--lingers as she realizes Scourge's intent, ready to step in if necessary. Sandra proves that she can handle herself however, and once the disagreeable officer leaves Saranaja gives her an approving nod. It seems that the moment for their 'fun' has passed however, leaving Saranaja somewhat frustrated at having been interrupted.
Saranaja ferrets out a quite spot after their grog ration and dinner is done, carrying with her a small pail of water, and a few items from her own bag. When she emerges a half hour later she is freshly bathed and groomed, her hair arranged simply but artfully atop her head, and wearing clothes more suited to a 'performer' in a low-class tavern than a pirate.
Once she has drawn a sutiable amount of attention she takes an open space enough to move around in and begins to dance, hips swaying slowly. A few moments later she starts to sing, her voice sultry and soft, inviting her listeners to lean closer to hear better. The song is not one many would have heard in the shackles before, telling the tail of the prince of the rabbits. Interest starts to wane, but she recaptures it quickly enough as the tale turns to evocative descriptions of the princes debauchery--the accompanying dance leaving little to the imagination... The song is over all to soon--it's underlying 'message' inevitably lost on her audience--and to the disappointment of many--if not all--she retires from her impromptu stage to obtain refreshment and hold court to her potential suitors. Some time later she slips away with a lucky crew mate, after having suitably impressed upon other interested parties her requirements in her partners.
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Rosie, to Zenu's surprise, is not the joyful, rogueish halfling that is so stereotypical of her kind; She is loud, vulgar, and nearly as musclar as Osir, who is a big man himself. Her vulgarity, however, isn't used as a form of insult; She just happens to have a very colorful vocabulary, one that she is not afraid to use. She, however, does not seem to wish to stop for talk, going as far as slapping Zenu on the backside - hard - to get him back to work and let her focus on her own work. That being said, she seemed amiable to him, though it is difficult to tell with the various insulting names she named him by, not to mention the stinging sensation on one of his buttcheeks.
------
Sandara, noticing that Zenu came aboard with the rest of the jollyboat crew, already seemed amiable to him, much to his surprise; She warned him at speaking too much with Aretta, as the 'b%*#@', Sandara calls her, would likely slit his throat as much as speak to him. She is a friendly enough sort, and gets him oriented around the ship, listening to his story, but unable to offer him any assistance with his request.
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Night: Looking to get to know some of the more recent additions to the crew, Trevor sits introduces himself to the group of sailors who fished him out of the water. "Greetings. It's been a couple days since you rescued me, and I still haven't had the chance to thank you all in particular. My name is Trevor Quartermane, mind if I join you?"
Night: Continuing to work his way into the good graces of his coworkers in the rigging, Trevor starts chatting up Krigger the Rigger.
Night: Influence Krigger
Unable to catch even a single Turtle, Caerlei, desperate to find some food for the crew lest she be 'taught a lesson' by Scourge, instead is able to swipe numerous big, juicy rats, cockroaches, and spiders from those hunting them; Combining that with the usual crap Kroop tends to put in his soup, she makes what is very likely the most horrendous soup ever created aboard the Wormwood.
Though the crew hungrily eat it, they are soon horrified upon finding bug-legs, rat-tails, and other unmentionables in the food they're eating. In an outburst of yelling, cursing, and throwing food at Caerlei, the crew find themselves completely unable to eat the slop that was given to them. Considering that they'd gotten used to the disgusting food Kroop was oft found serving them, this is a new level of disgust displayed by the crew.
Though unable to do anything to Caerlei besides giving her the new nickname of "Roachslop", thanks to her now-infamous dish, the crew seem far less amiable to her than before - not that they were particularly fond of her even then.
Plugg, however, is another matter entirely. When screams and curses are heard coming from the officer's cabin, the crew are joined shortly by a flustering, angry Plugg and Scourge; Hauled up to the top-deck, Caerlei and Kroop are both given a half-dozen rope-bashes; Kroop, so insensibly drunk that he is, barely notices the pain, while Caerlei likely enjoys it. Afterwards, Caerlei is given the punishment of working in the bilges the next day. She isn't to go anywhere near the food for the day, so that the crew can actually eat something edible - even Kroop's Fishgut Soup is deemed more wholesome than their meal that night.
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Though in poor spirits due to their dinner that night, the crew hungrily watch Saranaja's performance; The men amongst them, and Aretta as well, are glad to have a sufficient distraction from their rumbling stomachs, and thoroughly enjoy the debauched entertainment.
That night, Saranaja is able to wisk away poor Jack Scrimshaw; The young lad, nervous and unexperienced at the whole thing, is unable to resist Saranaja's advances thanks to being too enamored from the earlier performance.
In all likelyhood, its a night he won't soon forget.
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The day begins with rumbling stomachs and grumpy sailors; Without being able to eat the previous night – and those few who did eat having long since vomited up what little they did eat – the crew is in sour moods. Luckily, the morning biscuit, as stale, dry, and loathsome as it is, is given on time by Cut-Throat Grok; The entire crew, Scourge and Plugg included, hungrily consume the 'meal', savoring every dry, crumbly bite.
Thankfully, Kroop is sober today – as sober as he can possibly be, of course, considering the man is perpetually inebriated. However, his current level of drunkenness is such that he can get by without Caerlei's help for the day, though the crew cringe at the thought of 'Roachslop' returning to her usual job the day after.
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As night descends and dinner is served, the crew are pleasantly surprised to find the usual fish stew as their main course for the night. A change of pace, the crew do not groan or complain at the stew, instead remembering what the alternative is. After dinner, however, as the crew begin their usual nightly entertainment, they are surprised by the appearance of Plugg down in the crew births; Looking smug, he strides up to Osir.
”So, Osir, I hear that no one 'round here is willing to challenge you to arm wrestling as of late. They say you're tough s%$% and can't be beat.” Grinning, his yellowish-grey teeth showing with his wide-smile, he holds up a small leather purse. ”How about we prove that wrong, eh?” Gesturing behind him, Scourge brings a massive beast of a man downstairs with him, lead by a chain collar:
'Owlbear' Hartshorn.
”One hundred gold. I'll throw down that much betting that you can't win a fist-fight with my man Owlbear here. You up for it, or are you afraid, baited-breath?” Plugg continues grinning; The crew, meanwhile, all turn their heads towards Osir to see his response.
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The crew awaken from the night's entertainment to find heavy rainfall hitting the Wormwood. The wind, however, is not much worse than usual thankfully, but the crew must endure soaking conditions for the day, souring everyone's moods.
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The rain continuing unabated from the previous day, it has been joined by a building storm; The weather kicks up, hard, and the wind proves to be more dangerous than before for those working along the rigging. For once, being a swab has its benefits. The crew is warned that a storm will likely hit in full swing tomorrow; They are told to be prepared.
To bolster morale in preparation for the storm, Captain Harrigan has ordered one of the ship's pigs be slaughtered and cooked. The crew, hearing this news, cheer for the captain and look forward for the night's 'feast' of pork, a massively better alternative to fish stew.
They fail to realize, however, that 'Roachslop' will be cooking the meal alone, as Kroop quickly drinks himself into a stupor and falls asleep, aided along by the rocking of the boat.
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Mabelode recovers from his exhaustion wakes up for an easy day of repairs. Working with the gnome, Niffer Tobbs, he asks him about how he arrived on the Wormwood and how he enjoys it.
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Night 5
Mabelode enjoys the fight between Osir and Owlbear.
Mabelode awakes from the night's entertainment to find heavy rainfall hitting the Wormwood. Now, he must run errands in it all day. Working with the halfling, Rosie Cusswell, he asks him about how she arrived on the Wormwood and how she enjoys it.
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Night 6
He tries to salvage his relationship with Rosie.
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Mabelode continues to run errands all day in the heavy downpour. Working with his friend, Shirtless Shag, he tries to turn him helpful.
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Night 7
He tries to salvage his relationship with Niffer.
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I’m feeling extraordinarily blah, sorry for the uninteresting posts. Cheers.
Saranaja awakes hungry, but otherwise satisfied for the day ahead. She scoffs down the biscuits, and awaits her assignment, finding it more or less acceptable. She could do it easily enough, and usually managed to keep up a good pace, but she finds that as the day wears on it becomes hard and harder to maneuver the heavy ropes.
Attempting to distract herself she turns to conversation. She finds herself working with the tengu, Blackjack. He wasn't really her type, his appearance a little too unusual--she really couldn't imagine kissing that beak--but even so she was stuck up here on rope duty with him, so she may as well talk to him. Despite her best efforts he proves distant and distinctly unfriendly, not even responding to some of her best stories. When she is finally done she leaves the bird frustrated and sore, and not in the good way.
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Though she heads down with the others she sits listlessly against the walls, refusing the attention she normally craves. Curse that stupid bird-man. Even when Plugg came down, leading a mountain of a man she couldn't seem to perk up at the prospect of the fight to come. As the two are squaring off she retreats into the quietest spot she can find and passes out from exhaustion.
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Despite a miserable day previously Saranaja awakens once more feeling relatively optimistic. That optimism is severely squashed when Plugg assigns them their duties. The bilges! Her face clouds over with anger, and she is forced to bite her tongue hard enough to taste a coppery tang in order to stop herself from informing the mate of her thoughts on his choice of duties for her. She wasn’t quite so foolish as to lose control however, not just from that anyway...
As soon as she opens the hatch to the bilges she wants to be sick. The scent of stagnant water, and all the horrible things that thrive in such environments sends her looking for aid, calling upon the strong young Jack to do her work for her, while she runs into the muscled Halfling woman scrubbing the decks.
She couldn’t focus all her attention on the menfolk she supposed... she hadn’t quite been in an environment like this before—her Uncle’s ship had been quite different after all—but she knew how women tended to react to her. If she hoped to... reorganize things on board the ship she couldn’t ignore the women... So she spends some time chatting with Rosie, finding out who won the fight the previous night, gossiping about Plugg’s ‘pet’, and occasionally venturing down into the bilges to take a turn, thankfully by that time Jack has gotten rid of the worst of it, and the rain up above means what is pooling now is relatively fresh. She sends Jack back to his own work; she didn’t want him to get in trouble for not doing his work after all...
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Despite having enough energy for it tonight, Saranaja forgoes putting on the costume again; it didn’t pay to over excite your audience, always keep them wanting more... Instead she mingles through the various diversions on offer until she finds a likely target for the night. The hobgoblin, ‘Ears’ Ortov... the necklace was gruesome, but he looked strong...
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Saranaja's eyes narrow as she received her assignment again. Plugg would feel the sting of her blade, Calistria must surely see to that... It is a long time before she can move from the spot, and longer still before she relinquishes her grip on her dagger.
J'Zarrgo is the lucky sap selected to help her today, she was slightly more reluctant to enlist his aid. She felt closer to J’Zarrgo, his outlook nearer to her own, but she couldn't run poor Jack into the ground, and Ortov wasn't ready just yet...
Looking at her options, which is to say swabs working below decks who aren’t outright hostile to her, she singles out the enigmatic Shiv, the only human amongst the bunch...
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Frustrated by her attempts with Shiv Saranaja snags Ortov and drags him away to a secluded spot.
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On his third day aboard the Wormwood, Zenu grins when he is told his job is that of a runner. It wouldn't be too difficult for the moderately dextrous sorcerer to get messages back and forth between crew members, or so he hopes. As he goes about his work, dodging between crew members and ropes aplenty, he takes the time to stop and flirt briefly with the Sandara once again, and though he doesn't stay for long, he does come back whenever he can afford to with the time he is given. That aside, though, he focuses mainly on delivering messages, keeping in mind what the foul-mouthed halfling had mentioned to him yesterday about the frowning upon of socialization during the day.
That night, he frowns quietly when Plugg comes down to challenge Osir to a duel. This was... unexpected, to say the least. He steps forwards, scratching his chin as he watches Osir and the beast-thing stand off. This would prove... educational. His eyes narrow, however, when he notices that "Owlbear" is a human. Or something like that, at least... He frowns, eyes hardening as he looks at Plugg. This one... Zenu blinks, shaking himself. He could not afford to reveal his... feelings to those with the power to punish him... Not yet, at any rate.
The next day, and Zenu brightens noticeably when he is ordered to run about delivering messages. Today, he pays more attention to the places he goes onboard the ship, who is doing what, and so on. He does do his work, but he keeps his ears open and his mind keen, attempting to figure out a way to leverage more influence amongst the crew members as he does so.
Later that night, despite his exhaustion, Zenu returns to Arietta, speaking quietly and just making himself more likable in general. The elf woman, if he recalled correctly, had been worshipful of Plugg and the officers, but Zenu had been unimpressed by them to the highest degree. He says none of this, however, preferring to wait until later to start spreading discontent amongst the crew, especially Arietta - she seemed particularly devoted to the officers, so it seemed a good idea to make sure she liked him at least as much as she did them before he started converting her.
[ooc]Daytime: Sneak, investigating A7, I guess - Zenu's curious to see if he can find anything interesting here.
Take 10 Acrobatics 10+2=12
- Fatigued. Oh, so fatigued.
Nightime: Influence Arietta Benison
Again working the decks as a swab, Zenu takes the time to really charm Sandara as she works alongside him, flirting and helping her whenever he can. Nothing untoward, of course - that would ruin the fun - but he does occasionally allow himself to gently touch her in the process of working. Despite his bone-deep weariness, he manages to finish the job to the satisfaction of the officers, and manages to impress the lady priestess. Should she make advances, however, Zenu regretfully (and somewhat theatrically) explains that he must get some rest, lest he be less than pleasing at other potential diversions.
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[ooc]Phew, not exhausted