"Heya, friends, if can be callin ya that. Seems we being all in da same situation, ya? Dunna know about ya, but I canna say that dis is da most friendly of crews I being with before. Dis one came with some gear, and I dunna know where ta start lookin. Ya have any ideas, or mebbe we search together?" Salt leans in to talk with the others
Bellam blinks at the dark-skinned man incredulously.
"Friendly? By what measure are these brutes friendly? I've been kidnapped and pressed into service against my will, all while suffering verbal abuse from the crew!"
"Bein still, now ... sorry about me accent. I be meaning that they no friendly. I be saying 'canna'. Ya be saying 'can' ... 'not'," Jesal struggles with the unfamiliar words as he holds his hands up apologetically.
Jessamy yawns widely as she waits around with the other sailors, wondering what's going to happen next.
Realizing she's too close to the strange frog man, she again edges away from him.
Stupid frog man! If I had gotten to be in the rigging, I wouldn't be so -- yawn -- tired!
"I think a lot of them are in the same position we are. I was talking with a gnome who said she's only been here a few weeks and was also press-ganged. I can ask her where she got her gear. I don't mind being on the ship, even if I didn't choose this one, but I really wouldn't mind having my blades back!"
"Ah, a fellow student of the sword! Bellam Anklebane salutes you. Tell me, young lady, what is your name?"
Gah, it's talking to me! Should I answer it?
"Jessamy," she replies, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Um," she says, looking around at the rest of her fellow recent press-gang victims and her voice getting stronger, "does anyone know where we're supposed to sleep. I'm a bit tired after all that work."
"Dunna know ... dis a good question. Ya should look through ya rack for bugs and such before ya sleep, though," Jesal nods sagely.
"Ay yes, before dis one forgets, iffun ya bring ya food ta me prior to eatin it, I bein sure to purify it of rot, badness, and poisons," the Mwangi glances at his fellow countryman. "No saying ya bein a bad cook, just mebbe bad food."
A woman approaches your knot of people, her flame red hair blowing in the wind. A large smile spreads across her face as she approaches. Reaching out, she presses something into Salt's hand. I thought you might need this. She says, then she holds out two more similar items, And I believe these belong to some of you as well. Sorry I wasn't able to get more than that, she shakes her head and shrugs. The spell component pouches dangle from her hands. Bellam and Japheeth easily recognize their own pouches.
Japheeth finishes helping Ambrose with the supper and makes his way tentatively over to his fellow abductees. "The galley is clean enough for a ship like this." he says to Jesal. "I am Japheeth Embenda. I am a mage of sorts, travelling to see what I can of the world and learn and grow in my art."
The woman's arrival, and her susprise, makes Japheeth smile. "Many thanks!" he says. He bows to her, but there is a wariness in his eyes. "Japheeth Embenda is my name, and I owe you for bringing me this."
Bellam snatches his pouch from the woman's hand, and straps it around his waist. "My eternal gratitude to you, madam," he says with a sweeping bow. "I don't suppose you could bring me my rapier as well? In any case, Bellam Anklebane is at your service. What may I call you?"
Hmph. Stupid frog man. 'Oh, look at me, I can climb so high so fast, I'm just so wonderful' Jessamy thinks, slipping into an odd falsetto in her thoughts as she imagines what Bellam's thinking. And now I get all my stuff. 'I'm so wonderful, everyone just loves me.'
"How'd you get those? Oh, and who are you?" Jessamy asks. Her exhaustion is making her crabby, though she tries to cover up for it at the last minute.
I'm Sandara. Sandara Quinn. Nice t' meet ya Bellam. I could not get your rapier. Grok wouldn't let go of any of the weapons, but she didn't see how these could be used, so she let me take them. I've met Salt already, and now Bellam. she nods her head in turn to those two, What about the rest of you?
"I'm Jessamy, Jessamy Pierce," Jessamy replies.
At least no one else got their weapons.
"Who's Grok?"
"Dis being Sandara, ya ... is good to see ya again. Dis one being very thankful for da return of dis," Jesal raises the pouch. "How we be gettin da weapons from Grok?"
Sandara grimaces a bit. Grok's the quartermaster. She has her shop down by the Galley, but she's closed it for the day. How you get your equipment . . . that's up to you and her. She holds her hands out as if pushing the responsibility away.
"Be soundin like da place to hit tomorrow, ya think?', Jesal looks around at everyone else.
"It sounds like we might just be able to find some other way to get our gear. Perhaps we should try just talking to this Grok tomorrow. Hitting her, especially when it's all of us against her, hardly seems fair or the way to make friends on the boat," Jessamy reasons.
"Not her, da store!"
"If we can get our weapons, we may be able to secure our freedom from these ruffians. Count me in."
"I imagine that eventually we will be required to fight on behalf of the Captain as well, I suppose it would be in his best interest if we were armed - perhaps we can put it in those terms. I'm not much of a fighter though. I rely on... other resources if it came to that." Japheeth says, "But I'd feel better if I had a dagger or my walking stick."
"A walking stick?" Jessamy says, suppressing a laugh, though it's clear she's amused. "That's not going to do too much against an enemy. If you want, when we get our blades back, I can show you how to use 'em!"
She clearly has no lack of confidence in her own abilities.
"It is a Rungu, carved from a tree at the heart of my village. It is a hunting weapon as well as a utilitarian object. Japheeth says. "I am no warrior, however. I will appreciate any aid you can give me, but I prefer to let my powers do the fighting for me."
Sandara looks around the group, listening.
If we can get our weapons, we may be able to secure our freedom from these ruffians. Count me in.
Ah, but ye'll need more than weapons. There be a lot of people on this boat who don't care, or side with Plugg and Scourge. It won't be about weapons in the end. It'll be about the people on yer side.
Just then a bell tolls. Though soft, the bell toll seems to permeate everything on the ship, including skin and bone. The crew instantly fall silent.
Sandara looks grimly towards to the clock and whispers under her breath,"Here we go. From below the decks, a pair of pirates drag up the a bearded man. His filthy clothes smell of bilgewater and hang off him loosely.
You bastards! Your mothers are all whores. I swear I'd take every last one of you if you did me in a fair fight! Even you Plugg, you limey son of a pig. As he yells, he struggles against his assailants but it is obvious that he is physically weak and delirious.
Plugg stands, holding tight to a loose length of rope and staring at the man. Jakes Magpie. Ye've been caught, and confessed to stealing from the quartermaster's store. Ye'll now be keelhauled. Any last words?
Jakes cries out wordlessly. Plugg hands the end of the rope to some nearby pirates. They quickly wrap the man in rope, placing Jakes near the side. They then stand and look to Plugg, waiting for something. Plugg nods. Jakes, still screaming, falls through the air to the water with a splash. For nearly a full minute Plugg and his cronies pull at the rope, moving it slowly around to the other side of the boat. Finally Jakes is pulled out of the water, a broken and bloody mess. He flops lifelessly to the deck.
Plugg speaks up then, Well, it appears Besmara was not on his side. Throw what's left of him to the sharks.
The men pick up the bloody body that once was called Jakes, and tossed the man overboard.
Jessamy suppresses her dry heaves, barely, as she shudders at the mess of the man pulled from the sea. "Maybe we better find another way to get our weapons if that's the punishment," she whispers to her new companions, tears in her eyes.
Hardly a fit punishment for stealing; maybe for putting the ship at risk -- barely -- but not theft!
Wondering what else will happen this very long day, she thinks about Sandara's words. We seem to have one ally already, at least. Now we'll have to find more if we're to survive, I guess.
She looks around at the various people on deck, her eyes falling last on Bellam with a start.
Ah! Stupid frog man! Why do you have to look so ... froggy!
Jesal gulps as he watches the macabre spectacle but doesn't speak, not wishing to draw attention.
Sick man ... need to be wary of him. Men that enjoy this can't get enough and will sometimes make up reasons to do it. Must warn the others when able.
Japheeth watches with as much impassivity as he can muster, but it is clear to anyone watching him closely that he is sickened by the punishment meted out.
Bellam growls under his breath, and his hand drifts toward his hip, which is sadly bereft of his rapier.
Variziel scowls, but mounts the ladder quickly, more than willing to leave the dank bilges and the rude man.
The half-elf nods to Salt. "Aye, my own gear's taken, and I would it were back with me. It may be of no great monetary value, but the sentiments there are strong."
Variziel's eyes widen at Bellam's remark of "student of the blade." Surely not other Swordlords-in-training? He waits until Jessamy gives her name, then gives a small grin and extends a hand. "I'm also a practicing swordsman--I hope to be a Swordlord some day. I did, anyway," he adds, looking around. "Variziel Da--" The half-elf remembers Salt's earlier advice and catches himself. "Variziel. That is my name, and I am glad to meet you, Bellam Anklebane."
At the talk of Grok, Variziel also nods. Now to discover a good way to reclaim my journal and pen, at least--and preferably my sword as well.
"That's the man who was in the bilges with me, chained," Variziel murmurs as the prisoner is brought up. "He wasn't a very talkative fellow, and now I see why..."
The half-elf grimaces as the man is tossed overboard...and his expression turns to one of abject horror as he realizes what is happening. When the corpse is recovered, he looks down, fighting an urge to vomit. By Desna's travels... He shakes his head slightly. I never would have guessed it would be like this. So terrible, so fast...
He looks up to the others, noticing they too seem put off by this. "So, not every ship is like this, then?" he asks of the clearly more knowledgeable men and women.
Several other people are brought to the main mast and whipped, or bashed with a rope. Nothing comes close to the brutality presented with Jakes though. While Master Scourge is selecting those for punishment his eyes linger on you, but he shakes his head and continues on.
After all the punishments of the day have been finished, rum rations are handed out to each person. Then the entertainments begin. The crew spread out through out the lower decks and making the most of their time: gambling, drinking contests, shows of strength and tales of piratical escapades abound.
"Dis one being in da quartermaster store dis evening, jus lookin', though."
Variziel nods to Salt. "I'll join you," he says, wondering if he might find his belongings without much trouble.
Once this excursion is done, the half-elf heads back to the quarters where he's sleeping and turns in for the night, hoping the next day of work goes better than this first.
He looks up to the others, noticing they too seem put off by this. "So, not every ship is like this, then?" he asks of the clearly more knowledgeable men and women.
"No, not all ... But dis be too many. Being careful, dis one thinks."
Jessamy yawns widely.
"I'm too tried to do anything else tonight, I think. I'm going to bed. I'll see if I can't find this Grok tomorrow."
Bellam skulks through the ship, searching the quartermaster's shop for any sign of his (or any other) rapier.
Japheeth is overwhelmed by the strangeness of his situation, and of his new crew, and keeps his words to himself during this first evening, but he is not nearly as tired as the others he was press ganged with. As the evening grows later, he works up the courage to approach one of his new crewmates, looking for the most open and affable.