my two climb check rolls
climb
climb
Jesal drags his feet eyeing the rigging as he moves with the others who 'didn't make the cut."
Looking at V, he says, "Best if bein' sure. Issa long way down, no?"
He makes a half-hearted attempt to climb and then botches it, he struggles admirably a few feet up, half for real, half acting but doesn't get to the heights of the rigging.
"Yes," Variziel says, still eyeing Mister Plugg. Handed a sword... Like to show him a thing or two about fighting. "But hopefully I'll be fine."
With that, he begins to try and climb. His nimble feet and fingers help him to find the footholds, but his upper body isn't as conditioned as that of a broadswordsman--Nathaniel would excel at this--so it's rough going.
Somehow, the half-elf does even worse at this test than Salt, who isn't even really trying.
Rhuun easily climbed up the ropes, scurring from one and jumping to another. As some of the ropes looked on the verge of snapping and Rhuun had no plans of allowing that madman to get within ten paaces of him.
Variziel climbs up the rope, trying so very hard to earn the respect of the Wormwood's crew. In his zeal, he attempts to do the sort of 'leaping climbs' Captain Bloodsword was once famous for, putting force through his arms and pulling upwards, letting go so he can gain some distance before grabbing ahold again. He fails and falls to the ground.
Jesal begins his climb, successfully at first. Once he reaches about halfway up the rope, his grip gives way and he crashes to the ground.
As the others rise and fall during their climb, there are 2 who pull ahead of the others: Temerith and Rosie, who climb furiously in an attempt to not be relegated to a possibly worse task. When the two reach the top to the crow's nest, Rosie cheers, We did it, ye slack-jawed hagfish! Whoooo! Rosie gives Temerith a playful punch in the gut, a lot harder than one would think a Halfling could.
Mr.Plugg gives a half-smile, So the sparkle pants and the bend are in charge of helping with the rigging. Fair enough. Just don't screw it up or Master Scourge's whip will get some 'alone time' with your backs. Janus, get over here and start your duties with these two that fell. After you're done, I will decide who does the other jobs, then you all can begin working.
[ooc]Congrats Temerith, you're a rigging person
Janus smiles as he walks jauntily to where varizeal has fallen, Rolling up his pants you can see he has a full healer's kit tucked up there hanging off another layer of sailcloth pants. He begins to minister to your wounds, almost taking on a motherly coo as he addresses you."Oh my you poor strong lad, I hope you are all right. Please allow me to address these hurts and aches."
Treat Deadly wounds
Heal 3hp
He quickly applies ointment to bruised flesh, and works his hands along your sprain to help the swelling go down."Oh my, you did take a tumble. Sir if you will excuse me for a second, I see another patient trying to make his way away. Please be a good boy and stay where you are, I am not finished with you yet"
Janus spins around and quickly makes his way to Salt, "Now you wouldn't be trying to leave before I get a chance to look you over? Wouldn't want me to get in trouble on my first day my boy."
He gives a cursory look over your minor scrape and applies a sealing layer of glue to avoid infection.
Treat Deadly Wound
Heal 3hp
"Ahh see now, merely a scratch. Such a tiny, easily dealt with problem. Now if you will excuse me, I have an injurred patient to get back to tip top shape"
Janus strolls back to where he left Varizeal."Ahh, now where was I. Oh yes you poor man, we still have some bruising to check around the ribs and such." He quickly and deftly runs his hands over your body searching out bruises and applying were he needs to.
Treat Deadly Wound
Heal 3hp
"See dear boy, good as new.
"Me be thankin' yas, doc," Jesal nods to the odd surgeon.
Ignatius just watches the strange sawbones. "Strange things on the seas..." he mutters, shaking his head.
Variziel lets out a small shout that is cut off as he smashes to the deck shoulders-first. His gaze turns black, with red and white explosions behind his eyes. Uh... What? He'd been trying to force his upper body to work harder, trying to use leverage to push himself into the air...
The half-elf comes to as the strangely pierced surgeon works over him, and is about to struggle when he realizes that the man's skilled hands are soothing his pain, working ointment into the bruising and killing the ache of a sprain--maybe even a disjointing. What is this? Magic? But there's no tell-tale tingle or warmth of supernatural healing--this man seems just that able with a bit of medicine.
As Janus moves to treat Salt, Variziel levers himself into a sitting position, gingerly rotating his shoulder. At least it's not my sword arm. Then Janus returns, and Variziel is enraptured by the man's gentlemanly demeanor and graceful, knowledgeable treatment. As the last of the pain fades, the young duelist looks from his shoulder to the surgeon. "Thank you. Where did you learn to do that?" he whispers, his eyes showing wonder and gratitude.
"Oh a bit picked up here, a bit there. I was trained in Nidal originally. I find the training there seems the best as we have to learn our craft the hard way. First year students are subjected to such pain before we are allowed to even touch a patient. By then we know how to make pain and so we know what to look for to fix. By second year we are allowed to inflict pain on the first year students so we know what causes what further deepening our knowledge of the pain. Finally in our third and forth year we work to fix the damage of the first and second year students. The system works well. You even begin to understand how to enjoy the blade on your own flesh. The wisdom of The Dark Prince is evident in everything we do." He smiles comfortingly at you."Ahh but we have not been properly introduced. I am Janus of House Ult."
How depraved. Charlotte thinks to herself, hearing Janus' spiel. So much gratuitous suffering. Disgusting.
...enjoy the blade on your own flesh? Odd, to be sure... but he's better than any doctor I've known. And he seems... nice, if strange. "Variziel Dawnshadow, descended from Adrian Bloodsword. Well met."
Mr.Plugg watches impassively as Janus fixes up Jesal and Variziel.
Plugg then looks at Charlotte and Ignatius, Well, all this standing around is accomplishing nothing. Forget what I said before. Charlotte and Ignatius, go to Quartermaster Grok down on the middle deck. Just go down the stairs over there and turn towards the back of the ship and walk to the end of the hall. Even a braindead Orc could figure out how to get there. Tell her I sent you and you should have no problems. But ONLY get what is necessary for your new positions from Grok: your fiddle so you can play a tune for us, Charlotte and a single wooden club for you Ignatius to help clear a few vermin out of the bilge. If you get any more than that, you will be dealt with, harshly. Is that clear?
Plugg turns his head towards Janus, You did well sawbones, though it was not quite as painful as I would have preferred your craft to have been for them. While some on this ship may believe otherwise, every wound, and the pain behind that wound, should teach a lesson. Otherwise, sloppiness is rewarded and quality starts looking worse than an otyugh's @$$. Still, impressive. Go speak to Habbly Quarn. The nutter calls himself the 'Stitchman'. Just go through that door over there marked with bonesaw and you'll be there.
Plugg then turns to Variziel and Jesal, So, which one of you two misfits knows how to cook? Old Kroop's cooking has simply been horrible lately and we need somebody to help that drunken slab of fat cook a proper meal. So, who will it be? Make it snappy so I can assign one of you to work with the rest of the swabs.
After hearing Temerith's comment up in the Crow'd Nest, Rosie looks up at him, Hopefully soon. These squicky little sroats are starting to really pi$$ me off. Still, I'm happy we're not on swab duty! What was yer name again, sparkle pants, Temerith right? Rosie's the name, Rosie Cusswell because that's what I do and don't you f&ckin' forget it, you bilge-swilling eggsucker! It appears her last words were friendly because of the slight smile she cracks.
Just one thing Rosie, Plugg is mine to kill. For I will show this crew what a true sorcerer is capable of.
Ignatius nods at Mr. Plugg, repeating the order back. "Down the stairs, to the back of the ship, end of the hallway. Grab a club and clear out the vermin...from the bilge. Aye aye, Mr. Plugg, sir." His pause is just slight enough to be a breath to finish out a run on. But the slight flex of his wrist, the slow, finger over finger close of his hand into a fist, only releasing after a moment or two.
Ignatius heads off the deck and towards the ship's area for the Quartermaster, extending an arm to Charlotte. "Care for an escort? And maybe an extra set of eyes to make sure we don't get jumped while we're here?" The second sentence is much lower, in almost a whispered tone.
Janus smiles at Mr. Plugg and in a low whisper. "Oh I think I understand completely. If I had known I had a free hand with my ministrations I could have made their screams resound from here to land sir. If I could but have access to my instruments it would be my pleasure to make every mistake a lesson in pain. The crew would fear the pain of their punishment and the pain of their rehabilitation after, oh yes. Such fun I could have with my patients. Given the tools I could make it so they would rather stay at their post instead of come see me for minor wounds. Yes the pain a lesson, such wisdom from your mouth sir. Have you felt the touch of the Dark Prince? Rare it is to find such wisdom in one who is not of our number."
Feel my diplomacy and admiration you sadist. I shame you with my congratulations.
Rosie looks at you and belts out a hearty laugh, Now that's the spirit, boyo! It's too bad ye can't do it now, because I'm itching' to plant me axe in that eel-milker's soddin' corpse until it looks like some of the stew we got served this morning in the lower decks while we were waiting to be taken for this f&ck!n' evaluation today! Ah well, good things to those who wait and all that happy @$$ b$llsh!t! Better we suffer that whoreson for a while longer than be keelhauled./b]
Mr.Plugg turns his head and looks away from you, [b]See that you do so, I have many important things to do besides hold you meats' hands and play children's games with you all.
Mr.Plugg takes a moment to let out a throaty laugh which lasts several seconds, then he leans in and whispers to you, Oh, I like you my friend! So eager to please, so eager to help keep this crew in top-top condition and have some fun doing so! I think you'll fit in quite well here, so long as you remember who's in charge. Go with the wench and that man with a Banshee Queen's Kiss on his face down to the middle deck and request your gear back. Tell Grok, the Half-Orc with the face that looks like bait thrown in a Sargavan Pirahna pool, I said to give you no trouble. Just have someone come and tell me when you next work upon some incompetent lout. I have never heard much of the Dark Prince apart from the peasant rumors and I would very much like to see a priest of his in action. Perhaps you could tell me of this wonderful faith as you work your ministrations upon these lumps of refuse? May your tools bring order to the crew and an entertaining diversion for us to enjoy.
Jesal squints, looking around at the rest of the crew.
Can't cook for anything, but I don't think any of them would care
"Dis one knows da secret Mwangi spiced meals. Me be changin' ya eatin delights for da rest of da voyage. Ya neva seen anything like it, ta be sure."
Salt tries hard not to seem nervous, but his voice breaks a bit as he delivers the lie.
Smiling at the promise of fresh canvas with which to paint a masterpiece of blood and lust. His feet trapsed along the deck as he caught up with his erstwhile companions. Another tune takes its place on his lips.
Oh what do we do with a drunken sailor, what do we do with a drunken sailor,
What do we do with a drunken sailor early in the morning.
Oh way yay and up she rises. Way yay and up she rises.
Way yay and up she rises. Early in the morning
Oh feed him to the hungry rats me brother, feed him to the hungry rats me brother
Feed him to the hungry rats me brother early in the morning.
Oh way yay and up she rises. Way yay and up she rises.
Way yay and up she rises. Early in the morning.
Oh sow his mouth up with a rusty needle, sow his mouth up with a rusty needle
Sow his mouth up with a rusty needle, early in the morning.
Oh way yay and up she rises. Way yay and up she rises.
Way yay and up she rises. Early in the morning
Oh give him a lash for every bottle, give him a lash for every bottle
Give him a lash for every bottle early in the morning.
Oh way yay and up she rises. Way yay and up she rises.
Way yay and up she rises. Early in the morning
Charlotte smiles as Ignatius approaches and offers her company before the Quartermaster can reply to her request.
"Gladly so. I don't trust these roaches not to crawls over me, if you know what I mean." she replies, whispering most of it.
You get the feeling that none of the pirates particularly care of you know how to cook, just so long as you can do better than the Kroop man that Mr.Plugg mentioned. As the lie of having knowledge of delicious Mwangi dishes escapes your lips, you tremble slightly as you come to the realization that no one believes you. Mr.Plugg gives you a cold glare, In the future, I'd suggest you not lie to me, meat. You get this one chance, but do it again and your back will look as striped as a Hell Harbor doxy's knickers. Are we clear? Since you can still cook better than old Kroop in all likelihood, you get the job. Go to the middle deck and walk towards the back of the ship. Kroop will be in the Galley right before you get to the Quartermaster's room. If you miss all the cooking equipment and that tub of lard that serves as our cook, then you're likely the thickest sod ever born. Get moving.
You catch up to Charlotte and Ignatius just before they all reach the Quartermaster.
As you walk through the cluttered Galley towards the Quartermaster's room, you see a large greasy man in a cook's outfit running after a black feathered chicken, Come back, Black-Hearted Bezebel! I'm not going to cook ya! The man is clearly drunk, given his staggered lurching which only slightly resembles running. You walk past the man the the Quartermaster's room and enter. Inside, you see the Quartermaster Cut-Throat Grok, a tall, reedy Half-Orc woman with a large scar running across her throat and a face as ugly as sin. She wears dark leather clothing and has an array of throwing axes on her belt to match the large notched greataxe slung across her back. As she sees you walk in, she grins a toothy smile and speaks in a croaky voice, Ah, you must be the new 'recruits'. If yer down here, that means yer either a dumb sroat that's looking to get yer skull thumped or someone sent ya to get something. Which is it?
Charlotte turns to Janus as he approaches and whispers. "That was some impressive medical work back there. Good to know you're good at stopping pain, not just causing it. If you need some help with someone's injury, some time, let me know. The sea cares for those loyal to it, and I know a thing or two about curing the wounded.
She can't help but snicker as the chicken runs past, followed by the drunken cook.
As the quartermaster comes into view, Charlotte recoils for a moment, but forces herself to appear unphased.
What's with this crew? Do they have some kind of ugliness contest going on? I feel like I'm getting hideous just standing on this ship!
Charlotte looks Grok right in the eye.
"So you're the quartermaster, huh? Mr. Plugg sent me to retrieve my fiddle. This ship's pretty silent, and it's about time she and her men heard some music."
...and I'll be sure to make you regret it sorely if it's got so much as a scratch on it.
Ignatius chuckles, watching the chicken and then the staggering fool following it. And this is why you're supposed to limit the cook's rum rations.
Seeing the Quartermaster, Ignatius grins. "We're definitely not sroats, at least in this case. And I'm here for a club, to take care of the vermin problem in the bilge."
Wonder which one is going to get killed first Rosie. The captain, scourge or Plugg?
Jesal blanches and then scurries to the belowdecks chasing the others and heading to the kitchen.
This might present an opportunity ... let me see what I can work out
Salt rolls right past the galley and gets in line at the quartermasters, "Mr Plugg be tellin' me I bein da cook's mate, now. Gonna be needing my gear, ya? Needin the Mwangi touch to be makin da best soups ya ever seen," he delivers with a huge genuine smile full of white teeth.
As you mention music, Grok's eyes flare with excitement, Musician? Nobody told me we had a musician on board! This is great news! Can ya sing, dear? I love listenin' to the bards in the taverns when we go to port and havin' someone perform on ship would be even better! Let me just fetch that fiddle for ya. Grok heads to the back and retrieves the fiddle, which she tenderly hands over to you, as if afraid of damaging it somehow.
Grok laughs after you explain why you need the club, Too bad the only vermin ya can kill are in the bilge! Too many vermin walking 'round this ship on two legs, if ya ask me. Grok heads back and retrieves a primitive wooden club, which she hands to you, Happy hunting! Have fun with the rats and spiders down there!
When you ask Grok for your gear, she rolls her eyes and sighs, D@mn Mr.Plugg. More like @$$ plug. Since the little sroat is first mate, I have to do what he asks. But you get ONE piece of yer stuff back and that's it. If ya tell me ya need a crossbow or a sword to cook with, then I'm gonna thump ya on the head with a nice wooden club. I don't care what Plugg says on this, I have orders from the Cap'n to only give a weapon to a bilge sweeper and he's already got his. So, what do ya need for yer soup?
Rosie laughs for a moment at your question, Well, if Scourge makes another pass at Sandara, then he will be. He came up to 'er last night asking for some squeeze, if ye know what I mean. That f&uckin' hellcat raked him across the face she did, him open wider than a swingdoor's legs, if ye get my meaning!
"Sounds like I'm not the only one wanting to do some vermin extermination." Keeping his voice down, he grips the club and nods. "If the chance comes, Grok, for some upper deck extermination work, want me to let ya know. You look like you've seen more than your share of vermin."
"I'm an okay singer, I've been told, but I'm much better when I have my fiddle to accompany myself. I had to pick an art, and the strings called to me."
Charlotte bursts into full out laughter as Grok mentioned the two-legged vermin, clutching her ribs. "Okay, didn't see that one coming," she says, in between two fits, "I take back what I said earlier, there's at least one good pirate on this crew."
Charlotte opens the case carefully, and eyes the instrument from all angles "Let's see... no scratches... the finish isn't chipped..." She plucks each of the strings one by one, each resounding with a melodious "Plink!" "Hm..." Charlotte ponders for a moment. She twists one of the small handles at the head of the instrument, plucks at a string again, and frowns. A few plinks and twists later, she raises her eyes from the fiddle. "There, all tuned up and ready to go. If you lot will excuse me, I believe they're waiting for some music out there. Hope you enjoy it!"
Charlotte makes her way back on deck and finds a nice out-of-the-way spot on deck, where an old barrel sits, making for a perfect makeshift seat. She taps her right heel against the ship's deck, each hit resounding with a hearty "Tock!", and calls out to the crew. "Alright, you pack of rats. I've been hearing that you haven't had a musician on board yet; it's about time you've been shown how to live."
Smirking as several sailors turn to look at her, she extends her arm foward and to the side and carefully balances the fiddle up to it. Anyone musical-savvy would immediately notice that, unlike a traditional violinist, Charlotte does not rest her chin upon the violin. However, not all of them would understand why until later into her music-playing.
A few notes into her intro, Charlotte begins tapping her heels in rhythm, adding a certain amount of percussion to her song, and establishing a poignant rhythm. Charlotte licks her lips once, focused on the rapid dance of her bow across the strings, as chord after chord comes ringing from her violin, in the kind of song many would never have expected out of a violin. Charlotte's music is not that of a classical violinist, entertaining at a nobleman's dinner reception. It is the song of a traveler through and through, where the caravaneers of northern Varisia meet the pirates of the Shackles.
Several measures into the song, Charlotte's rhythm slows somewhat, and the reason for the different fiddling position becomes apparent, when she begins singing in addition to her song. Her voice is fierce and loud, somewhat more gruff than what would expect of a woman of her looks. It's clear that the song was originally meant to be sung by a man.
Your heart's a-bobbin' like your ship,
Go up, go down, upon the waves,
Up to your throat, down to your hip,
For adventure is what it craves,
Oh man of sea, oh man of sail,
You proud scoundrel, you filthy knave,
That pirate's heart, oh, without fail,
Will lead you soul-first to your grave,
The honest man can boast his age,
And even more, so would the sage,
But both will soon envy the scourge,
Who held a grin right through his dirge."
As her words fade away on the waves, Charlotte takes a deep breath of the sea's fresh salty breeze, going from piece to piece, content to let the music guide the men in their work, and keeping an eye open to any interesting happenings on deck.
Now that's how you live on a ship, ya lifeless bunch. By the song and by the rum, not by the shout and the whip!
Tell me Rosie is Sandara the type who would mind helping us arrange a "accident" for scourge? If she is I can envision the glorious chaos that would ensue...indeed we might even have a mutiny!
diplomacy check to convince Rosie to join in with Rhuun's plan
Janus sits back and let's the others make their requests. He thinks hard at what could cause that kind of wound.
Heal check I assumed was most proper.
Janus sits back and let's the others make their requests. He thinks hard at what could cause that Lind of wound.
Heal check I assumed was most proper.
Variziel is about to open his mouth and say something about his cooking ability--still unsure of whether or not he'll lie--when Jesal beats him to it. The half-elf sighs as the man is given the job, though he does so quietly. Looks like I'll be working my way up from the very bottom on this ship...
Still, he bucks up and stands, still a little amazed at how quickly the pain in his shoulders has disappeared. "Alright, then, Mister Plugg, what would you like me to do? I'm willing to help with anything--but I'd hope that a strong, powerful, important man like yourself could really teach me to be a good sailor and pirate." The half-elf drips a little honey into his words, not really expecting much to come of it but figuring even a little guidance could be helpful.