"We be headin dis way ta Groks. Be gettin us some weapons first den bein meetin with Kroop."
Jesal leads the way, a skip in his step
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Iggy just smirks, leaning over to his oracle cohort and speaks low.
"I have to admit, that was quite amusing with Plugg."
If I remember right, Iggy has all his gear already?
Variziel crouched as Plugg lunged, ready to dart to the side, but he holds as Plugg is distracted and falls. He remains ready to fight until Plugg has walked away, then grins and looks to the others. "So. Reefclaws? What are those?" He begins walking with them, pausing as he hears a voice. He looks up to Temerith for a moment, then nods and resumes his pace with the group.
Janus smiles and shakes his head at the whole affair. He then heads off to find his task.
You follow Jesal into the Quartermaster's Room. A few feet from the door, you hear something that sounds like a mix of shanty singing and possibly a sick dog howling, Ooooooooh, a pirate's life for me, hey! Flank and shank, snick and snack, put a knife in a landlubber's back! Raise the sails and fight the gales, a pirate's life for me! Strip the flesh and salt the wound, sail to Garund! If around Cheliax you be d!ckin', from the gallows you be kickin, hey! The monstrous attempt at a medley continues until you open the door. Grok stops singing and looks at you all, Oh, so you're the poor saps picked for reefclaw duty, eh? I must say I hoped it would've been less... interesting people, ya know? Grok looks to you all for confirmation on the first bit. Something about the way she second the second part doesn't particularly give you a lot of confidence.
Rosie stares at Variziel walking below as he nods his head, You think he'll go for it though, boyo? The Captainship, I mean? Before you can answer, you spot Maheem talking to a tall Mwangi woman. His body language, as always shows nothing. He looks in your direction and nods, as if noting you to the woman, then returns to talking to her.
You walk into the bilge and see Syl shackled to the wall, a provocative faux-pirate outfit on her form. She strains against her shackles trying to get free. Realizing she struggles in vain, she speaks to you in her best attempt to remain calm, Mr... Ult, is it? Look, I didn't mean what I did to the witch, ok? I told her I was sorry. You seek like a reasonable man, yes? Plugg said so anyway. What do you say we... have a bit of fun and forget about this unpleasantness?Trust me sir, it would be well worth your whole. So typical of a 'lay sadist', always eager to fish out pain but never willing to receive it.
We may just have another recruit, were going to need her and everyone we can get... Although an idea does cross my mind on getting rid of those loyal to our dear captain. Tell me what do we know of the cook and the quartermaster?
The Kuthite returns to his blades, the lancet finds its way easily into his hand. From this point Janus says nothing, moving always with silence and care. Over the next half hour he painstakingly, almost lovingly cuts every strip of clothing from her body. Thought he tickles the blade along her flesh, he never once nicks her. All the while her questions and comments are only met with silence. Then the wait, Janus sits and stares at every inch of her body, the wait is always the worst part. The mind races over the next ten minutes, what is he doing, why is he just waiting. The headache from the pressure of the bandage and the pain of sitting chained to the bilge begin to set in in earnest. And then the first cut, unnoticed at first it comes so quickly, a single slash right along the arm. Another quick nick follows against the belly, a mere nick, almost a papercut. Then the waiting an hour in and a pattern finally emerges, the mind hangs on to that pattern as the cuts get more painful. It is all one has to stay sane. Never the breast, never the crotch, never the face, always the wait.
And then the pattern breaks, the next cut does not come. A moment later and the second is late as well. Then there is the smell, the wet in the face and the mouth. He is peeing on you, and you realize you almost swallowed you are so thirsty, the screaming has made your mouth dry. But you resist this urge and spit it out, and there is a stinging in your eye as the slap rocks your head back... and you hear the sudden turn of the drill, and then the wait. It is a wonder how much shins are like wood, the bite of the burr, the struggle, the slap that rattles teeth every time you struggle. Always brought back the same way when you pass out, you actually swallow it now, it is better then drowning in it. How much of the water stores must he have broken into? Your legs feel like they are gone, your head a mess of bruises bound together by that horrid bandage. And always the waiting. You here the sound of something wet being cut, something sloppy and then the sound of hard bite almost as if... the saw, the legs you can no longer feel, and the pain hits, your mind can not help itself as you pass out again.... he is removing your legs, the dull hint of pressure at your ankle is the last thing you feel before you pass out again.
Janus does not cut deeply at any point, all the cuts should heal without scarring in a few days. The burr marks will scar but will fade in a month or two. He did not saw off her leg but sawed in to a soaked piece of timber wrapped in soaked bandage. The pressure would be the back of the saw he placed against he leg. She will awake without the bandage on her head and with Janus smiling down at her. "You sung so beautifully for me song bird. Now for that fun you promised." Janus will smile as he unchains her. "Next time I will not be given any constraints child, the captain will give you to me fully. Now you are not to put on clothes tonight, and you must give yourself in full view of everyone to any one who wants you, if you break this command child you will be returned to me and I will take an eye before binding you. A second offense and you will be chained blind, just waiting for food, waiting for water, and waiting for the next f@$$. Am I understood?"
"Don't underestimate this one. The reefclaws will never know what hit 'em," Charlotte chuckles. "Think I could get that boarding pike of mine? You'll know it by the weird burn marks on the haft. Don't ask."
Iggy just smiles, looking at Grok. "Well, the Banshee Queen smiles on odd situations, Quartermaster. I'm sure that we will survive a great deal worse than what we've been dealt."
Slipping his backpack off his back, he begins to inventory his gear and put it on. His first part is putting on the multi-hued chain shirt, showing the sea on his chest before strapping on what looks like the kilt from one of the Kellids of the north. Next, he straps a worn, battered rapier to his waist, slipping his heavy gauntlets over his hands, making sure the spikes are appropriately oriented. He chuckles as he frees his own boarding pike from the straps.
"Glad to see another practitioner of the pike among this odd group."
Variziel smiles to Grok and pats his dueling sword. "Thanks again for allowing me my blade and my book, Lady Quartermaster. If I could now ask for my bow and daggers in their sheathes..."
Not f&ckin' much, I'll say. Kroop was a drunken sot, but since he's been around that Salt fellow he seems awful f&ckin' chipper. As for the Quartermaster, I got no f&ckin' clue, I don't talk the the pile o' whale sh!t. B!tch tried to keep my fiddle from me and NO ONE touches the fiddle!
Upon gearing everyone's requests, Grok fetches all of the equipment everyone needs. Ok, here ya go. Now you all try to make it back, ya hear? Ya seem like decent enough folk. The best reefclaws, and the easiest ones to kill, are black with a red belly. If ya see a big one with with huge claws and a purple carapace, you'd best swim back, 'cause if they clack those claws they can cause your flesh to tear itself open! Pepper says some crap about 'destructive harmonics', whatever the Hells that is. Just swim back fast if you see a purple one, ok?
When her bandage is removed, she immediately looks to see what horrible state her leg is in. She looks stunned, as if she cannot believe her eyes, and takes a moment to wiggle her toes to make sure she wasn't tricked. Tears stream down her face in streams. Then you speak, delivering you ultimatum. Syl simply nods, unable to look you in the eyes, Y... yes, I understand s... sir. May... may I go now?
Janus smiles and nods, a look of approval on his face. "Yes my child, learn your lesson well lest I be forced to administer harder judgement. And when you see the little witch again I wantyou to give her a message for me. Tell her you are sorry and you will never harm another member of this crew. That you are learning how to be a better person. Now go, and be glad this day for you can still walk and touch and see, why there is much for you to be happy about isn't there."
Hmm...
"Ah. Interesting." Variziel blinks at the commentary on the different kinds of reefclaws. "I'll keep that in mind."
"Be goin ta meet Kroop, now. Thankya, Grok for da words on reefclaws. Being careful going forward wit dis knowing."
Salt will wait for the others and then lead the group to the galley, anxious to get off the ship.
Variziel rolls up his sleeves and straps on his wrist sheathes, buckles them tight, and then rolls his sleeves back down and puts his leather bracers on. He also slips on his quiver and bow before nodding to Grok. "Thank you." He turns and follows Salt to the galley.
Yes... yes sir. I'll be going now. And again... s... sorry She slinks out of the room like a dog with it's tail between it's legs. You suspect that after that, she will likely behave. If not, well... there's always next time.
'Hmmm' ya say? Is that good or bad?
Grok reaches under the counter and grabs 4 fair sized rum bottles filled halfway with a glowing blue liquid. She puts them on the counter, Forgot to give ya these, Cap'n's orders. No, it's not drugged, it's potions to knit your wounds. Some idiot misplaced all the fine glassware, so Pepper had to make do with these. Now, no thank yous, just go get the Reefclaw. Their numbers peak about noon and slip away fast after that. Best of luck to y'all!
I am thinking of the best way to ensure knife ears succeeds, I prefer a good natured romantic as captain over a man of the cloth who thinks his goddess will replace me if he so desires... He may be right, the Ocean's Lost and Besmara are not known for their "amicable" relationship...
Iggy slips one into his belt, grinning and nodding in thanks to the half-orc. "Much appreciated. Cap'n's orders or not, Besmara bless ya. Anyone else ready to hunt some of those reefclaws? I could use a good test of the ol' muscles."
Slinging his boarding pike over one shoulder, he just grins and follows Salt as well.
"Ah, much better. I feel naked without my weapons," Charlotte observes as she reclaims her belongings.
"So, where will we be hunting them?"
At Ignatius's comment about pikes, Charlotte chuckles. "You said it. I don't know about you, but the more distance between what I'm stabbing and myself, the better."
Charlotte takes a moment to rummage through her belongings, checking to make sure nothing's missing. As she comes to her pocket mirror, she looks at herself into it.
"Ah, miroir, miroir, how I missed you." She says, gently kissing its surface before pacing it back into the bag.
"Let's get moving, shall we?"
The Markborn pats the Mwangi on the shoulder, the crease of a smile briefly crossing his salt weathered face. "Good timing above deck, by the by. We were definitely in need of a distraction. You have my thanks."
Iggy tests the grip of the pike as they walk along, the excitement before battle beginning to course through his blood. "Now I'll finally get to see why we all got shanghai-ed."
Variziel grins and also nods thanks to Salt. "Yes, I think I'd have been in for a whipping if it weren't for you. As for the shanghai-ing, I'm guessing I was taken for wearing a sword and asking too many questions in a pirates' tavern."
Iggy shakes his head at the young man. "Besmara works in mysterious ways. At least Gozreh makes sense some days.."
His hand runs against the Queen's mark on his cheek. "I'm sure She has some reason for us to be here. And in time, we'll see it. If we've got luck on our side, then it'll be while we still live and breath."
"Being no problem for dis one. Need be gettin outta kitchens and off da ship for a bit. Cravin the feel of da sea. Be prayin this is one of da days Gozreh be makin sense. Iffun be one of da other days, being up for some sport, dis one thinks."
"It was that or watch the freak get his jollies off with the nag. I'll take the open sea over that any day." Charlotte chuckles, already looking forward to some exercise and a chance to dive into the ocean.
"We're all freaks, in some shape or form." Iggy simply shrugs at that comment. "But I definitely prefer not to see his work either."
"I just don't understand him. He worked wonders on me when I fell, but now he's being used as a torturer. I suppose the same knowledge would apply to both professions, but most healers don't torture and vice-versa, as far as I know." Variziel looks to the others. "He also seems a religious fanatic. Maybe that's why?"
Of course, Hank also seems to be a bit fanatical as far as Variziel understands. Just not so creepy-like.
"Religion...it can be part of you but it doesn't make you. It's like the wind for a ship. Yeah, for most it's vital, but if you can't move your ship without it...well, that's your own damn fault." And with that, the Markborn just laughs.
Variziel nods and then pauses for a moment. "Er. How would you move a ship--say, one this size--without wind? I don't imagine rowing would be easy."
"Ya jus be needin' a lot of rowers. Being where slaver ships come by dem work force" Salt shudders at a memory. "Bein thankful for da small thing that dis place, although horrid, inna slaved."
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"Aye, it is rough to have a ship done by rowers. Always respected those who did the rowing, though. It's a brutal, short life, but without those folks...the ship goes nowhere."
Putting a hand on both Salt and Variziel's shoulder, he smirks and leans in conspiratorially.
"I hear, though, of ships powered by magic. Now those...those would be a right nice site to see, wouldn't they, lads?"
"Eesh. Yeah, there's worse ships to be stuck on, though I can't imagine there's too many of them out there."
"Da winds of Gozreh ever filling da sails and da currents ever favorable? Dis one can be imagin'in dis, ya.". Salt smiles at Iggy.
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You all go up to the top deck. Kroop stands next to side of the ship. He holds the massive cleaver in one hand and throws a rope ladder overboard after tying one end off to the railing. He turns to you all and speaks, oddly cheerful at facing dangerous reefclaws, Well then, y'all ready to go hunt some reefclaws? I'll tell ya, these things can take a finger or a leg off but damn if they ain't delicious! Only folks I know that don't like 'em are those wierd Prophets of Kalistrade. Eh, I'm ramblin'. Shall we get a move on then? Before waiting to hear your answer, Kroop turns and makes his way down the rope ladder. As you look overboard, you can see rainbow-hued reef underneath the clear blue water, barely deep enough so the ship doesn't wreck upon it all.
"Ah! It's about time!"
Charlotte kicks off her shoes and removes her socks, quite happy to reunite with a good old friend.
Charlotte eagerly follows Kroop down the ladder and, once she's low enough to dive without hurting herself, quite deliberately leaps off the water, landing in the water with a graceful splash, making it quite obvious that she's very much at home in the water.
Ocean my good friend, how I missed your embrace.
Iggy seems much more eager to get into the water. After removing boots and setting them by the cook with a nod, he quickly shimmies down the rope ladder. As he makes it into the water, he sighs, feeling the first bit of relief in ages.
Variziel pauses at the edge of the ship and smiles at Iggy. "Aye, a magic-powered ship would be something. Better than rowers." The half-elf looks over the edge at the water and leans against the railing long enough to pull off his boots and put them in his sack before joining the others, floundering a little but keeping afloat in the water. It's quickly apparent that unlike Charlotte and Iggy, Variziel hasn't spent much time swimming.
Wooden armor on, Salt takes a moment to put on his swim fins, and then grabbing his spears, whispers a quick prayer of thanks to Gozreh.
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The Shackles ocean is cool on your bodies, the water lapping at your bodies to provide some much-needed relief for your sun-battered skin. The salt, however, stings in the cuts and scrapes you have accumulated these last few days, a reminder that even such a wondrous location has it's own set of woes, a set of thorns for every rose.