’Aye have special natural abilities, as som’of’ya granted have as well. In my case, they com’ from the First World... An’I’m a lot more comfortable when I embrace ‘em fully.
He looks around, as if inspecting the surroundings again.
I’ll usually keep’em quiet when we’re on a port and whatnot, ‘cos ya’ know - avoiding unnecessary attention. But when onboard, I’d rather stay on mah zone’o’comfort, if possible.
The bard leans across the table toward Chakam. "Full disclosure of magical abilities is pretty normal on a pirate ship. And do you really think that's going to bother us?"
Thren has horns. Not sharp. Long, graceful things that start at her hairline and arc back over her scalp; they keep her bangs out of her eyes. Her tail starts at the base of the spine and moves around almost snake-like. And her eyes are slitted like a cat's, with a hint of red to them....
Kahuranga has blue skin, white tattoos that move across his skin, and a supernatural wind that moves his hair and clothing at all times. And a talking mini-dragon friend who eats scrolls and teaches him spells.
"You are in good company, friend. Most of us know a magic trick or two."
Chakam smiles and signs the charter. It doesn't look like he's truly alphabetized, but maybe just enough to know his name.
Very well. Glad 'ya'r good with it.
He then walks towards Crimson and taps him on the shoulder.
And you'll be workin' with someone quite diff'ren from this. - as he proceeds to bump his own chest and gets ready to leave with the group.
"Good. Now that's all settled let's enjoy what's left of night. We can sleep in tomorrow, but after that we've got a job of work to do." He gestures to the the new officers. "How long do y'all need to settle your business?"
Ursa shakes Chad's hand heartily. She is a young woman with intricately braided golden hair. You can see she's had about three strong ales and looks still to be quite alert. "I'll go over the books with you as soon as you'd like. I'll admit, part of me's a little disheartened at the demotion but I'd only apprenticed to quartermastery for a very brief time. If you've worked with Master Lee as well then this is all for the best I reckon. As we've been taking in more and weirder plunder I've been at a loss to consider how to secure it best. for right now, we need to be sure we're supplied up." She takes out a sheet which notes what supplies have been purchased in port recently. There is an excessive amount of food. "The food was in case we were all affected by the red mists again." The now-gone red mists were indeed known for inducing powerful hunger. "I don't know if we should sell it back or tell Beryl," she nods toward a blue-haired gnome on the other side of the tavern, sampling cheeses, "To find a way to preserve it all, or if it goes bad get Quinn to purify it with a spell."
Crimson offers his (only) hand to Chakam to shake (which is hearty and strong). "Good to meet you. I'll introduce you to Grace and Favor back on the ship." After discussion it becomes clear this is what he has named the light ballista on the ship.
Chad nods, look at the list. "Hm... that was wise, the mists have been known to cause men to attempt to eat their comrades. Still, selling it back would probably be at a loss. I think that preserving it might be the best option, though the Cap'n should have final say I wager." Glancing over at Thren, he turns back and asks, "How are our morale stocks doing? Ale, teas, sweets, 'nd the like?"
As Lark asks the question, Chad smiles. "Beyond letten' my father know I am off again and grabbing my sea bag, I should be ready to sail when you are. I do want to make sure that our stocks are in order first though. We might want to discuss with Miss Ursa here," he nods to the dwarf, "what you want done with all of the extra foodstuffs you have."
"If by 'morale stocks' you mean 'rum', we need to double-check. I'm the one who tends to drink tea. Helps me stay awake some nights among other things. Sweets...hmmm, got something in mind?" The bard's eyes light up at the idea of sweets.
"We could use more tobacco," Quinn suggests.
Kahuranga and Taniwha retreat to their underwater cave, little more than a wet hovel, but a place of solitude. Kahuranga removes from a waxed pouch the ashes of two scrolls that he has burned previously. He takes a mortar and pestle and grinds the burned scrolls into a powder, mixing it with oils and seawater to form a thick paste. Taniwha makes the face of a child who has to take his castor oil, but soldiers on, lapping up the charcoal concoction. Taniwha's mind tingles with new arcane knowledge...
The crew set about making some final purchases and preparations to set sail for their home far to the west. With the group that stopped the imps' sabotage at the opera and two well known imp bounty hunters, the city officials give the group no problem--nor do the city's underground, for who would tangle with those who brought down the blood mist of Yoha's Graveyard? Indeed much muttering and incredulity--and awe--spreads as it is confirmed repeatedly that not only is the mist gone, but is staying gone. Chad and Chakam work with associates of Chad's father to purchase new armaments for the ship, and Chakam puts his engineering skills to good use attaching them properly to the ship, along with the aid of the ship's carpenter.
Yamtisy is delighted with the gift of the scribing tools--while never very talkative, she is at a loss for words, clearly unused to receiving gifts.
In a few days' time, with a particular spell purchased, Besmara's Whim sails east back to Yoha's Graveyard--Marin's Rest!--once again towing the Gryphon Unfettered, some work having been done to clean up otherworldly rat scat and the worst of the warped boards before delivery. Soon after, Hell's Harbor citizens are abuzz with seeing an ominous shadow passing eastward as well. Surely that wasn't a dragon flying near Hell Harbor...
Kelizar greets the party with great joy, and the newer members of the party are treated to the experience of chatting with a mighty brine dragon who insists upon speaking to everyone in high Taldane, complete with "thees" and "thous." He first questions when he sees no pile of treasure, but then he realizes the value of the antique Taldane naval ship!
"OUR EMPIRE HATH GAINED ITS NAVAL FLAGSHIP!" he crows. Peering inside, he continues, "AND YOU HAVE IT HOLLOWED OUT SO I MAY FIT INSIDE. I SHALL BE ADMIRAL NOW AS WELL AS EMPEROR. IT DOTH BE MOST FITTING." He looks around. "I CONGRATULATE YOU ON CONQUERING THIS ISLE. IT REEKETH STILL OF QLIPPOTH ROT, BUT IT FADES, IT FADES... I SMELL THE LIFE RETURNING. IT IS GOOD. PER OUR AGREEMENT, I SHALL ESTABLISH MY GUEST HOLDING HERE AT THE EDGE OF THE RUIN, IN THE SHADOW OF THAT GUARDHOUSE. WITH A LITTLE ACID I SHALL CARVE OUT A GOOD PLACE TO REST, AND TO KEEP OUR FLAGSHIP CLOSE. WELL DONE, MY ENVOYS."
Kelizar says he will stay at the island a fortnight or so, to Corwin's nervousness--but on the other hand, no better guard than a dragon.
You depart, saying final farewells to Corwin and sail off for Brightglass Island. His legacy is not forgotten as Yamtisy takes up leading the practice drills he began--much to many of the swabs' dismay, but your crew is more responsive and ready for danger because of it. You have minor adventures, fighting this or that sea monster and the like. At one point you are chased by a mighty, well-equipped frigate that lobs fireballs at you--but your smaller and faster ship managers to outmaneuver it, though it takes a good several hours. Ultimately you make it home safely, any wear and tear easily repaired or magically healed.
You find the tiny island of Brightglass Island still in good shape, and cyclops free. The fortress-temple-lighthouse of Ghoral Rey--or whatever it is you eventually wish to rename it--is bustling. "Fishguts" Kroop--a portly middle aged fellow with a pet chicken--has taken well to his new job of steward. His eyes seem brighter and his step more sprightly--and he seems to be drinking far less than he used to. Lee has been buried in his studies of understanding his now flying, otherworldly "cat" (silvanshee) and has been studying the ancient runes to unlock the meaning of the carvings in the observatory and throughout the stronghold. Everyone seems hale and well, although you can tell some of the people you left behind who began their lives as sailors are looking antsy, and gaze longingly toward the sea.
The Fearsome Tide has been fully restored and is the pride of Doc Imogene, the halfling engineer who led the project. The lighthouse is now fully functional--although there are questions about whether to actually LIGHT the thing or no. Lee feels it's unwise as of yet. The roof of the observatory has been fully derusted and repaired, but the craftspeople haven't figured out how to rebuild the mechanism that allows you to open and close it from inside the observatory. It is fixed in a closed position for now, and safe for Threnody to build her bedroom in there if she wishes. Kroop has set up a rough kitchen in the lower living area and keeping everyone well fed on seafood, boar, and local island fruit. The cook Beryl had worked hard on the trip home to preserve the extra food purchased, and works on trading pickled and dried vegetables and grains to Kroop for other kitchen goods.
The crew does whatever it would like to do on Brightglass Island, establishing plans for additional fortifications...
And then it sets sail for Port Peril...
Chad shakes hands warmly with Lee upon seeing the other man safe, bringing him into a quick hug, grateful that the man survived. Upon seeing what his cat has become, however, the man grows pale and quickly finds an excuse to return to the docks. Once there he oversees the orderly transfer of all goods from the Whim to the Tide, ensuring that everything was stowed properly and in a logical way for quick inventory and retrieval, as needed.
As the crew organizes for the transfer to the Fearsome Tide Lark makes a point of personally asking for Belina's input. Within the limits of the available space he'll have the chart table, map storage and navigation equipment arranged to her preference.
Lark will also show off the fancy chest they found in the sahuagin nest. He'll have it installed in the navigation area for storing maps and other delicate items.
After some time getting to know one another and make preparations at the stronghold you set sail for the western end of the Shackles once again--this time in the elegant and ancient carrack that is the Fearsome Tide. Many of its accents have been painted red to acknowledge its history of belonging to the legendary Jemma Redclaw. Finally you are prepared to seize your destiny--and become acknowledged as Free Pirates of the Shackles!
You hope.
You know you need to sail into Port Peril and petition the Hurricane King, and that a very sizable bribe is expected. Nothing that gets you past a dockmaster's fee is enough--a true fortune to impress the Hurricane King.
You know where to check in, and need plunder worth at least 4000 or so gold pieces... or more.
One day, as the officers enter Lark's quarters for one of their regular meetings, they find the captain brooding over Jemma Redclaw's fantastic clockwork arm. "You've heard of our battle with Orsilir, and Threnody lived it. We won many prizes, our fortress, this ship, that monster shell in the hold, and this." He taps one of arm's fearsome claws. "It's fine thing, and I'm loathe to give it over to the Hurricane King. I know we have her ship, but I like having this connection with such a mighty captain."
"However... we'll need a mighty treasure for our petition to prosper. Orsilir's shell won't be enough. I suppose I'd rather give this over in Port Peril rather than sell it for gold to some lesser collector." Lark sighs. "I suppose I'm just thinking out loud, giving you the course of my thoughts. This is what we'll give the Hurricane King, and they'd best be properly impressed." He sets down the Redclaw with a solid thunk.
Chad is quiet as the captain talks, listening respectfully. I will have to ask Thren to tell that tale someday.
"The Hurricane King is not easily impressed from the rumors I have heard. Which, to be fair, is probably just a side effect of having risen to take that title. Still, it is not like tribute like this," he gestures to the claw, "can be found at your local marketplace. It should at least get us in the door, I would wager." He smiles.
"Everything in the hold is accounted for and inventoried. I have prepared a list of things we could use while in port. Thankfully, it is somewhat small, having just left the fortress. Miss Ursa should be able to handle the bulk of it while we seek our audience, I think." He slides over a piece of paper with the items needed.
"Of course if there is anything you wish to add to that list it is well within your rights to do so, Cap'n. Also if we end up needing something special after our meeting with the Hurricane King we should, Desna 'n' Besmara willing, have time to acquire prior to cast off."
"What else do we have right now? I know we sold some things in Port Peril and left a few behind at Brightglass. I've been a little busy so I hadn't seen what you finally dropped off." Thren asks. "We've got the Fearsome Tide to show off our victory, but I'm with you about not wanting to give that up. I crossed blades with her myself, or what was left of her. If we have to give it up, well, there's plenty more loot on the sea, but it still marks us as the ones to find that haul."
"I think the Redclaw is the best of what we have. Explaining myself has helped settle my mind. I'll miss having it, but if it gets us recognized by the Hurricane King that will be worth it."
Lark picks up Chad's list with a nod. "Aye we can shop if we need too. I think we're well provisioned, but it's good to stay topped up."
You set sail in your newly fitted ship. The trip takes a few weeks, but the attention to Belina, if makes her feel a little too watched, certainly helps her focus and keep the ship on course. Chakam, with various senses he can take advantage of through his various forms, helps with navigation on the night shift when he is not attending to the armory, and does very well as well. You do hit quite a storm shortly before reaching the larger eastern continent, with rains going on for several days, but you weather it well and the ship proves itself to be quite sturdy. Supplies are well managed and critical repairs can be made quickly, although Derrick says a few jerry-rigged repairs will need better attention once you reach port.
And Port Peril eventually appears on the horizon. A massive sprawl of harbor, tenements, taverns, and pirate fortresses, here lies many a pirates' misfortune... or blessed destiny. The largest fortress rises along the highest part of the cliffs overhanging Jeopardy Bay: Lucrehold, home of the Hurricane King, Captain Kerdak Bonefist. A steady light beams out from the tall tower at its edge, the lighthouse known as Besmara's Beacon.
Quinn mutters to the officers, "I had been on my way here, to visit the Berth of the Sea Wraith," mentioning a rare public shrine to Besmara, "When Harrigan press-ganged me." So too all of you had met ill fates at the hands of Harrigan last you were here, Chad nearly drowned and sent home to recover for months, the rest of you, if at different times, yanked aboard against your wills onto the Wormwood.
Sandara Quinn narrows her eyes. "I won't receive that as a warning to stay away, but a dare to show we are stronger now."
"Our last visits didn't go well." The bard nods and frowns. "This time, we're here on our terms. And we're definitely stronger. We still need to pick our fights. But we're in a position to prove our strength. This won't end like last time." Thren ends firmly.
Ah, Port Peril! Can't remember tha' last time aye've been her'. - says the pirate, looking at Sandara with interest - Ya' heard tha' beard, Sandie. We're picking our fights, but we're here tah' prove what we came for. And we better do so!
Thren looks at Chakam, then to Sandara. "'Beard'?" She mouths, confused.
Ah meant beard', Thren! Ya know, beard', beard', the singaling kinda folk.
He keeps repeating "beard" instead of "bard". At some point you think you hear even "board", but it seems he can't say "bard" even to save his life.
Kahuranga will don his most piratey clothes, a cream colored kilt with a wide leather belt. He straps on his intricate bracers and pulls his shawl of lifekeeping over his shoulders. He makes an effort not to be too clean but keeps his appearance striking and dramatic. Dark blue patterns slide slowly over his bare torso, not enough to notice if you are staring, but always different when you look away and look back, just like the air always blowing in his hair.
He takes the time to oil Taniwha's scales so that the dragon is properly shiny and resplendent gripping the shoulder of his shawl.
Responding to Sandara, Lark says, "I'd like to visit that shrine too. Could we stop in on our way up the hill?" He gestures up toward the giant fortress and its lighthouse.
Lark gives Kahuranga a grin and a friendly tip of his hat. "You and Taniwha clean up nice! If anyone gives you guff about being too clean tell 'em they're welcome to visit the bilge if they prefer dirt."
The young captain cleans up his gear and stows the Redclaw in his seabag. I'll just keep this close for now.
Thren makes sure to clean up before arriving, getting the nicks out of her horns and all that. She also gets her gear into shape, though she knows better than to appear too clean-she's a pirate, not a merchant. As the ship comes to port she strikes up several songs with the crew to put them into the proper spirit for their arrival.
Threnody and Kahuranga make sure they are especially kitted out to make a good impression, and all head off into the city. The vast metropolis vastly outsizes any of the other ports you have visited. Port Peril has the overall look of a rough and tumble place, but commerce in the main streets are far more the theme than anything overtly violent. Market activity, white, black, and all other colors, goes on everywhere it can find a place to do so.
Quinn nods at Lark. "It's unlikely we'll get granted an audience immediately, so let's make the request first and then head to the shrine."
Lark knows that he needs to request an audience at the "gatehouse" to the Hurricane King's fortress Lucrehold, which was totally, correctly described prior and as located on a separate island to the north of the city proper and not up on the cliffs, because the GM can totally read maps. The "gatehouse" is on the mainland at the far end of the dockside well-to-do market called the Merchant Marina. While this building itself is a simple, if quite sturdy wooden structure, it has two guards flanking the door, you can see more guards walking along the private dock behind.
Within you see a wiry, shaven-headed half-elf with silver teeth who is sitting at a desk. He sizes you up as soon as you enter as though looking at a questionable piece of livestock. A very large man, to rival Corwin's height, stands in front of the door to the private dockway. The half-elf speaks: "And what flotsam tries to wash its way toward 'is majesty today?"
"That's your cue, Lark. Time to diplomacize them." Thren says to her captain with a grin and a pat on the back.
Not currently shapeshifted, at least at this specific point Chakam was helping. He didn't own very good clothes and didn't really know how to properly take baths (he loves much more swimming on the sea) - so he limited to the best trim he could do, and avoided shifting in his weird shapes meanwhile. Knowing he wasn't the most handsome or diplomatic fellow around, he stepped towards the background of the group and kept silently circling his head around, paying attention to the surroundings.
Chad ensures that his boots are polished (well, at least not dusty) and that his outfit is sufficiently clean prior to setting out with his companions. He doesn't bother to do much with his hair as the winds will do with that as they will. That being said, he does try to make sure his presence is both respectful and tactful... yet also fierce enough that he won't scream 'mark' to those around him.
As the man speaks, Chad just looks intently on his teeth.
I wonder how much we could get for those if we had to knock them out of his skull...
Mentally shrugging at the thought, he just smiles. Best not to speak out of turn here. Let the Captain and Miss Threnody do the gabbing 'less asked to give input.
Chad looks at the half-elf's teeth and sees that tiny little skills have been stamped onto the four top front incisors, which would take some delicate work. Those four would be worth a gp each, and any other silver teeth worth 2 sp.
Lark gives the half-elf a fierce grin and says, "If that's how you greet folks I'm not surprised you can't keep your own teeth in your head."
The young pirate draws himself up, "I am Captain Lark Greenwood, formerly of the Besmara's Whim, now sailing the lately re-launched Fearsome Tide! My infamous crew and I bring word of the true death of Brance Yoha and the final fate of the fabled Jemma Redclaw." Lark leans in slightly, "You best believe the king will want to see us. Today."
Chad smirks at the half-elf as Lark speaks. Now to find out what bribe we will need to pay the man to relay the message... Nothing is free, after all.
Thren smirks at Lark's introduction. She leans forward and looks at the half-elf with her best smile, hair falling forward. "First Mate to Captain Greenwood, Threnody Nocturne. I'd hoped to regale the Hurricane King with songs of the battle to reclaim the Fearsome Tide. Captain Jemma Redclaw was a rather fierce foe, as a matter of fact, and I'd think that our renowned king would want to know her fate in person."
The half-elf gives Lark a good hard stare--and then barks laughter. "Well, you've got balls sturdy enough to serve as cannon shot, that's for sure!"
He presses his hands down upon the desk as he stands to look Lark in the eye. He carries both a well-maintained blade and what appear to be spell pouches on his belt; his wiry build, weathered and scarred skin, and alert disposition all suggest he is an extraordinarily experienced seaman. "I would be 'appy to confer with 'is Majesty's social secretary. If nothin' else, Captain Bonefist would be amused to 'ear someone claim 'ow they met a 200-year-dead pirate queen. Of course, if you've a... specific means of indicatin' your urgency, that would 'elp us find any possible openings on 'is very busy schedule."
One does not have to have lived in the Shackles for long to know this is where the bribe comes in.
"Of course, we came prepared to be specific."
Lark gives a slight nod and begins fishing in his money pouch, "Oh, I'm sure the Captain will be very amused by our story. As for our urgency..."