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You remember the night before--the ringing laughter of a wild night, the heady joy of excess, the scents of rich stewed meat and perfume lingering in your nostrils. A pounding headache, the sickly taste of cheap wine in your mouths, the hard floor, a rhythmic creaking noise, and the feeling of the room swaying, as if you were still drunk. Before you can do much more than sit up, however, several pairs of heavy footsteps enter the dark room, and the harsh light of a lantern painfully spears your eyes. You also quickly notice that you have no weapons, nor anything other than the clothes on your back.
A tall, swarthy man with a whip stands before you, saying, "Still abed with the sun over the yardarm? On your feet, ye filthy swabs! Get up on deck and report for duty before Cap’n Harrigan flays your flesh into sausage skins and has Fishguts fry ye up for breakfast!" The whip cracks once, over your heads.
Six men stand aside him, eying you with baleful glares.
Chumtooth squints, as the bright light burns his eyes. His ears, his nose, and his shifting balance quickly inform him of being on ship again, but the voices are unfamiliar. These are not the whale-hunting Others, and the ship smells different - no smoke and boiling fat.
"Who is this one that commands Chumtooth? What is this ship?" he demands, irritibly.
Attempt to keep a chuck of cured leather tucked away. Sleight of Hand No such luck.
Dantes just groans at the light, and purses his lips tightly. His keen mind pierces through the fog quickly, piecing together what has happened to him.
At the mention of something he can use, the name Captain Harrigan, Dantes tries to recall if he's heard of the man before.
Knowledge Local
"Softly, softly," Bangkha groans, sitting up slowly and holding his head. He narrowed his eyes as he glowered at the loud man, feeling the room sway, the wood creaking. Another miserable day aboard....
But hadn't he reached Port Peril yesterday? Hadn't he finally been off the cursed ship that seemed to pull a storm with it all the way from Drenchport?
He takes a few unsteady steps towards the loud man, and his friends.
A long yawn comes from the sleeping elf, smacking his lips as he stretches his limbs out to the crack of the whip. "Right, I'm going, I'm going," He grumbles, slipping up to his feet quickly enough and heading up to the deck. They didn't have to be rude about it, after all. Then again, they were usually rude.
It wasn't until he actually got up to the deck and looked at where he was that it dawned on him. "Wait a minute...I haven't signed onto a ship yet!" He exclaims. "...Oh, well. Could be worse. It's not a Chelaxian vessel, anyways."
Still gathering his wits about himself, Dantes follows the elf out and complies to the commands. He raises a blunt hand to shield his eyes from the light as he strains his eyes trying to take in everything he can.
With the threat of the box, Dantes moves as quickly to the deck as he can in his condition. He stays mostly quiet as he goes, only mumbling some words back that they've mentioned. "Wormwood? Harrigan?"
Chumtooth scowls at the man with the whip, but makes his way to the ladder, squeezing his eyes shut as he makes his way up on deck.
Bangka yawns hugely, stretching and looking around the dark room. Seeing no sign of the spotted cat, he clambers wearily up the ladder into the miserable brightness of the sun. Squinting and shading his eyes he is able to distinguish shapes against the endless blue of sea and sky. For the moment, he is content to leave the cat be, until he figures out what is happening.
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On deck, the sun stabs mercilessly into your eyes and it becomes quickly apparent that you are on a sizable ship in the middle of the ocean, out of sight of land. Figures cluster around the ship’s mainmast, looking up at the higher deck on the stern, where two figures stand. One of them is a broad, muscular Garundi man with a shaven head, a long beard bound with gold rings, and an eye patch--clearly the captain. The other is a younger, balding man with a long black ponytail, wearing a long coat and carrying a well-used cat-o’-nine-tails.
You also notice four other faces you vaguely remember from the tavern last night. They are set apart by their relative cleanliness and their apparent unease with their newfound situation. A dozen or so other pirates, clearly existing members of the crew, stand about on the deck or in the ship’s rigging.
Once all have gathered, the captain addresses you. "Glad you could join us at last! Welcome to the Wormwood! My thanks for ‘volunteering’ to join my crew. I’m Barnabas Harrigan. That’s Captain Barnabas Harrigan to you, not that you’ll ever need to address me. I have only one rule--don’t speak to me. I like talk, but I don’t like your talk. Follow that rule and we’ll all get along fine.
"Oh, and one more thing. Even with you new recruits, we’re still short-handed, and I aim to keep what crew I have. There’ll be a keelhaulin’ for anyone caught killin’ anyone. Mr. Plugg! If you’d be so kind as to make pirates out of these landlubbers, it’ll save me having to put them in the sweatbox for a year and a day before I make pies out of ’em."
The ponytailed man with the cat-o'-nine-tails smiles cruelly. "Aye, sir."
Coming down onto the deck, he snaps the 'cat' over the heads of the new recruits. "Into the rigging with ye! All of ye! I want everyone up to the crow's nest, now!"
Hoping to get out of range of the whip quickly, Dantes moves quickly for the first 10' of the climb.
Climb
After that, he continues at a more measured pace, more accustomed to serving a ship below deck than high in the rigging.
Climb
Climb
That looks like a fall from 15'.
Attempt catch
Fall damage
Are there any consequences from Plugg for hitting the deck, or does Dantes just need to start up again?
"Rigging, huh?" Alwen comments, getting up to the ropes, before grabbing onto them and starting his ascent, humming a tune as he goes along at a quickened pace, vaulting himself up the ropes.
He pauses as he notes the falling dwarf, wincing as the man crashes to the deck, but continues to go at the fast pace, reckless as anything. Finally, the elf makes it to the top, standing in the crow's nest and peering down. "First, Mr. Plugg!" He speaks down to everyone.
Dantes tries to scramble up again, this time in a bit more measured fashion despite the looming threat of the whip.
Normal speed climbing:
Climb Fail
Climb Fail
Climb Fail
Climb Fail
Climb 5'
Climb 10'
Climb 15'
Climb 20'
Climb Fail
Catch self Climb Fail
Fall Damage
Annnnd, he's out! -3 hit points.
Bangkha groans as he looks up the high mast, but it seems there is little choice. The man with the cat seems none too patient, and there is nowhere to run too on a ship in the middle of the ocean. He gives the man with the cat a glare and hops into the rigging.
Reaching the top some time after the elf, he sits on the crow's nest and winces at the sound of the dwarf hitting the deck, again. Taking advantage of the elevation, he looks around him for any sight of land or anything else that would tell him where they are.
"You're a quick one," he says to the elf.
Chumtooth emits a rumbling growl from his throat, and begins climbing.
Climb Checks, DC 10:
About 15' up, Chumtooth gets tangled with the dwarf, as both try to climb the same rungs. The collision causes him to lose his grip on the ropes. He reaches out in desperation to catch himself.
His hand barely misses the nearest rung, and he hits the deck with a solid THUD!
Smarting from the hard fall, Chumtooth gets back on his feet, not sure if he should begin again.
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Only seconds behind the elf, a gnome, another of the new arrivals, climbs into the crow's nest. He glares at Alwen, but says nothing. Bankgah peers towards the horizon, but can make out nothing but endless ocean.
On the deck below, Plugg calls up "Awright! Everyone back down here!" Quinn!! Wake him up!" he bellows, pointing to the unconscious dwarf.
Dantes awakens with a bit of a headache to see an attractive human woman kneeling over him. She has fiery red hair and green eyes and, though disheveled, her natural beauty shines through. "Easy there," she says to the dwarf, "You've taken a tumble. Don' worry though, you're not the first to fall for Mr. Plugg."
When everyone has assembled back on the deck, Plugg points to Alwen and the gnome. "You two are my new riggers," he declares. "Ye'll be working closely with me." His smile is somehow unsettling.
"Now then," he continues, "Which among ye remaining swabs can cook?"
"Chumtooth does not think this one will like Chumtooth's cooking," the kuru responds with a guttural laugh.
Surrounded by ocean and eager to make himself useful as something other than chum after his poor performance, Dantes chimes in.
"I have served as a cook on board ships before. I can identify what's safe to eat on foraging calls, and I can clean and butcher fish and game."
He looks up sheepishly at the rigging before adding "I can run lines on deck well, just not up in the rigging so much." At that, he mouths his thanks to Quinn for the healing.
After making his descent, carefully, Bangkha stands on the deck, breathing deeply of the sea air. He doesn't envy the two chosen to work closely with Plugg, though he has little hope that his fate will be preferable. He watches with interest as the red-haired woman heals the fallen dwarf, and takes a moment to look at the other four relatively clean individuals.
The elf is rather happy to have been chosen for the rigging job, until he realizes that he'll be working closely with Mr. Plugg. He looks envious of the dwarf who took a tumble as he did, being treated by such a lovely woman. The gnome seems to be rather sour of him, and he can't imagine why.
He stands to the side as he watches to see who's going to get picked to work in the kitchen. Hopefully someone who could work miracles with whatever was on board. He hums a sea shanty while he waits for his first duties, taking a glance around and rating people based on their appearances. The blonde woman and redhead were fairly high up on that list. The incredibly scary savage with the mouth full of sharp teeth, quite low.
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The four newcomers, besides yourselves, are:
- An attractive but feisty halfling lass with a mouth that could shame the most hardened sailor. She has brown hair and brown eyes and seems indifferent towards most of the newcomers.
- A goateed human with a blue Varisian cloth tied 'round his shaven head. His green eyes stare warily at everyone, and he seems the unfriendly type.
- A handsome gnome with a foppish hat, an eye patch, and a white silk shirt. His mustache curls up at the ends into ringlets and his good eye is a sparkling blue.
- The woman called Quinn is a fiery redhead with piercing green eyes and a statuesque build. She wears clothes that accentuate her figure.
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Mr. Plugg eyes the dwarf and the slip of a girl carefully. Finally, he says, "Dwarf, ye be our new cook's mate. Report to the cook an' follow his orders each day. Starting now! The rest of ye are swabs, under the command of Master Scourge. He'll be giving you your assignments each day. Riggers! Come with me and I'll set ye ta work!"
Assignments - Day One
- Alwen - Mainsail Duties: Tough work raising and lowering the mainsail, requiring a DC 10 Profession (sailor) or Strength check. The PC must also make a DC 10 Constitution check to avoid being fatigued at the end of the shift.
- Bangkha - Man the Bilges: Vile and sweaty work cleaning out the bilges, requiring a DC 12 Strength check. The PC must also make a DC 10 Constitution check to avoid being fatigued at the end of the shift.
- Ayaki - Swab the Decks: Backbreaking work mopping the decks and scrubbing them with sandstone blocks called holystones, requiring a DC 10 Strength or Constitution check. Failing either check results in the PC being fatigued at the end of the shift.
- Chumtooth and Satinder - Repairs: Things constantly tear or break aboard the ship and need repairs, whether sewing sails or splicing rope all day, requiring a DC 10 Profession (sailor) or Dexterity check.
Everyone but Dantes, please decide your Daytime Ship Action and let me know what you are doing. Also, there is plenty of opportunity for role-playing while you work, so don't neglect that.
Dantes
Ambrose Kroop, or "Fishguts" as he is more commonly known, is the ship's cook and a sorry state of a man. He is large--some would say fat--with swarthy, wiry hair, and rotting teeth. His breath stinks of rum and he walks with a perpetual waddle. However, he greets you happily enough.
[b]"Welcome aboard. As cook's mate, your job will be ta help me prepare tha evening meals, as well as other little chores tha' have to be done, such as washing dishes, feeding tha animals, and sho forth. Mr. Plugg says tha' you can cook, sho that'll be a big help. But we got a little while a'fore any a tha' needs ta be done, sho why not tell me about yourshelf?"
Chumtooth goes through the simple, repetitive motions of splicing rope, no differently than he did on the whaler. He occasionally looks up from his work to see if anyone is watching him too closely, or seems overly interested in him, as some of the Others frequently did. His eyes burn with the full light of day, and he squints to keep the light out.
When told to report to the cook, Dantes sets off immediately, though with a backward glance at the others that were gangpressed when he was.
Once down in the galley with Fishguts, he'll warily open up to the large man.
"Well, I've been at sea for some years now, making my way with odd jobs. I just like to see new things, and working on ships seemed a good way to do it. I was supposed to meet someone who knew something about a treasure map when I was... erm, 'recruited' for the Wormwood. Of all the folks I saw pressed at the same time as I, I do believe I got the best assignment."
He absentmindedly rubs at the sore shoulder and ribs where the fall injuries still linger despite Quinn's attentions.
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Work Diligently
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Buckets!
Sighs and then gets the needed tools and starts toiling away at the stones. While doing my chores for the day I start singing a sea shanty that I have learned and just let the words flow thru
Captain Kidd
Oh my name was Robert Kidd
As I sailed, as I sailed
Oh my name was Robert Kidd
As I sailed
My name was Robert Kidd
And God's laws I did forbid
As so wickedly I did
As I sailed, as I sailed
As so wickedly I did
As I sailed
Oh I murdered William Moore
I murdered William Moore
And I laid him in his gore
Not many leagues from shore
I was sick and nigh to death
And I vowed at every breath
For to walk in wisdom's path
My repentance lessened not
My vows I soon forgot
And damnation was my just lot
I spied three ships from Spain
Oh I spied three ships from Spain
I spied three ships from Spain
And I fired on them a-main
And most of them I slain
I spied three ships from France
And to them I did advance
And I took them all by chance
Then fourteen ships I saw
Oh then fourteen ships I saw
Then fourteen ships I saw
And they by my hand did fall
Overtaken now at last
I must die, I must die
And into prison cast
And sentence being past
Come all you young and old
See me die, see me die
Come all you young and old
You are welcome to my goal
And by it I've lost my soul
I must die, I must die
I had ninety bars of gold
As I sailed, as I sailed
And riches uncontrolled
And dollars many-fold
Farewell the raging main
I must die, I must die
Oh farewell the raging main
Farewell the raging main
To Turkey, France, and Spain
I never shall see it again
For I must die, I must die
It's a filthy job, but Bangkha's a filthy guy. He digs in and cleans out much of the muck in the lowest level of the ship, managing to overcome his nausea with great difficulty.
"Nasty nasty nasty. You'd think they'd just toss it over the side. Pray to the eye for some rain tonight to wash off.... Oh gods, what IS that?" He mutters to himself incessantly as he's down there - or to anyone else sharing the chore with him.
It's been a while since Alwen's done any rigging, and hoisting the mainsail is tough but hearty work, the elf humming to himself as he went at it. He doesn't miss a chance to flash a smile at any of the female riggers and swabs, as well as the most handsome of the men on board. After all, if he's going to be on this ship or the months ahead, he'd most certainly need a bunkmate to pass the time.
The lovely Quinn appealed to his eye the most. He could certainly see some advantages to having her favor, if she could heal injuries like those that befell the dwarf. He'd have to get to know her better in the evening, perhaps during a game.
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"Well, I've been at sea for some years now, making my way with odd jobs. I just like to see new things, and working on ships seemed a good way to do it. I was supposed to meet someone who knew something about a treasure map when I was... erm, 'recruited' for the Wormwood. Of all the folks I saw pressed at the same time as I, I do believe I got the best assignment."
"'Course ya gots the best asshignment! Ya gets ta work wi' me! Stick wi' me and I'll keep ya on course! But, ash you'll learn right quick, ish not what ya know, but who ya know.
"Itsh poison, this ship, but don’t let anyone hear ya say it aloud. The hull listens, shee, and the cap’n hears it all. Poison the Wormwood is, though, rotten ta the core. Ya not meet a more nasty, sour piece o' work than Cap’n Harrigan in all yer days at shea, and his crew’s the shame, ’shpecially tha firsht mate, Mr. Plugg. Vicious little shod, he is. 'E’d ta' 'is own mother’sh liver to the butcher ta make piesh with, 'e would. But they leave me alone, moshtly. They know I can’t ’arm ’em."
"Well, they certain have the advantage over the crew they've abducted. I don't know that any of them are in a position to push back against them. If I'm going to have a job here, I'm glad it is here with you and not up there under the lash. Let me know what to do, and I'll give it my all."
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It is midday when the lookout calls down to the deck below. "Wreckage to port! Looks like there be a survivor!"
No sooner that the call is made than everyone makes their way to the port side to try to catch a glimpse. Floating in the water is a sizable piece of hull and clinging to the debris is a single figure. Captain Harrigan brings out his spyglass and takes a closer look.
"Besmara's blood! It's a woman! A fair comely one, at that! Helm! Hard to port, stand by for rescue operations!"
The ship turns hard, bringing the makeshift raft within range of boarding hooks and ropes. Plugg orders Jaundiced Jape and Jack Scrimshaw over the side to retrieve the survivor. They work swiftly and the girl is soon brought aboard.
"'Allo, me fine lassie," Captain Harrigan begins. "Welcome aboard the Wormwood. She's a fine vessel, but nobody rides for free. Mister Plugg! Introduce our guest to her duties for the day! The rest of you, get back to work!"
Master Scourge snaps his whip over your heads a few times until everyone is back at their station.
At dusk, Plugg and Scourge gather all of the crew together on deck. With little ceremony, Jakes Magpie is brought forth from the bilges in chains. Harrigan stands where all can see him and says, "Jakes Magpie. You stand guilty of the crime of theft. You confessed to this crime yourself. Have you anything more to say?"[/b]
The man is being tied with thick ropes at the wrists and ankles, but remains impassive and says nothing.
"Very well," Harrigan says, "Put him over!" Several of the crew begin pulling ropes and suddenly, Jakes is dragged over the side of the ship.
"Mercy!" he screams as he inches towards the churning water below. "Cap'n! Please! Have mercy on me, I..." The remainder of his words are cut off as he disappears beneath the waves. It takes twelve long minutes for what remains of Jakes to reappear on the other side, resembling nothing so much as a freshly-butchered hog.
The ship's surgeon gives him a once over, then nods at Harrington.
"Feed it to the sharks," the captain shouts, and the body is tossed casually over the side.
With that, the bell is rung and dinner is served. There are some grumbles, but everyone pretty much eats what is served without too much issue. After dinner, rum rations are distributed. Each crew member gets a half-pint of rum.
Once the rum rations are handed out, your time is yours. Please note your ship actions for the night and whether you drink or dispose of your rum ration. Remember that disposal required a DC 10 Stealth check.
Chumtooth takes his mug of rum, and drinks.
Feeling the strong drink fire his blood, he decides to make it clear that he is not to be trifled with. He begins to scan the crew members for someone who looks big, strong, mean and hostile towards him and the other new recruits.
Making eye contact with his target, he approaches, a deep rumble in his chest, and his teeth bared in a wicked grin.