The warm sea air breathes down your neck as you huddle beneath the shelter of the Wicked Wench Tavern's awning. As you gaze out at the harbor, you see that the Queen has more than one pursuer this night.
Now, as the legendary vessel itself... the Queen is an enchanted Galleon, said to make port this side of the Uncharted Islands once every hundred years. Just an hour ago, at sunset precisely it burst forth from the waves into Broken Keel's harbor.
Now the legends say that at sunrise, the ship will vanish... sailing off into wild blue unknown... and hopefully you'll all be on it.. as its masters.
This Will Be a Night to Remember
The harbor itself is only a couple minutes away by foot, a brisk pace is required of course. However, you can already see lights heading towards the Queen... most likely others intent on boarding. If you're to have your room aboard the ship, you better hope to make it quick.
You all have your gear on you... all that's left is to make your way to the ship now.
"That's it, Sabinae! How we can continue on without those humans!" The Strix looks at the harbor, her solid white eyes shining. Her wings hammer the air, and she grabs at Sabinae, knowing the Merfolk cannot move on land at the shocking speed she has in water.
The strix heaves her muscles, not used to carrying twice her weight, but it only slows her, it doesn't stop her. And by air, even if she had to follow the streets, she's faster than humans even with the load. But being able to avoid the streets and fly straight as an arrow the only way they'll beat her is if they started much closer!
(+2 if the speed > 30 and Flight both apply)
(+2 if the speed > 30 and Flight both apply)
(+2 if the speed > 30 and Flight both apply)
(+2 if the speed > 30 and Flight both apply)
(+2 if the speed > 30 and Flight both apply)
Zephry grinned savagely as his beloved musket, Bethany, recoiled against his shoulder and a hundred feet below Old Ratfaced Harling's head exploded showering the junior thugs that accompanied him in blood and brains.
"Up yours you mutinous son of a hagfish!" Zephry whooped, even as he turned and began to race down across the roof of the Wicked Wench Tavern heading for The Queen. He took it for granted that the ship must be here for him, afterall Zephry Kreel clearly had a destiny, and well it was just too bleeding convenient to mean anything else, right?
He leapt the gap onto the smithy roof sending tiles flying to shatter down on the street below even as screams erupted in the square behind him. Then he raced on narrowly clearing a chimney with a reckless bound before sliding down the low hanging roof of the fish market to land amidst a pile of nets.
Hauling himself out of the netting and tutting as he eased Bethany free he surged on again only to spy a weird bird thing flapping towards his ship. What you want I guess destiny, just do it with panache hey?
Then he is sprinting across the docks and flinging himself onto The Queen's deck, doing a barrel roll and springing to his feet.
"Hey, Bird Lady make yourself useful, we need to get this ship moving, I've got places to be that are not here!" He bellows, eyes darting about to see what preparation he can make to get the vessel moving.
"Sabinae! That's the Queen! The ship the Pirates used to tell us about! We have to get it! I'll go ahead, hurry as fast as you can, I swear I'll save you a berth on it!" She grasps the merfolks hand in one of her dark ones, and then her powerful wings slam at the air, lifting her off the ground and sending her winging toward the harbor as fast as she can. The humans below scurry like ants, torches lighting the cobblestone streets. But Kiana's white eyes see fine in the dark, and her she is twice as fast as any human when she is in the air! And unlike those fools, she need only fly in a straight line, not race down the twisting alleys and dodge other foolish humans! I will get to it for us Sabinae! I swear it! We will not have to live with these filthy humans!
The Strix looks down at the human with a mild look of revulsion. "Watch who you order around, Human." She reaches out and grabs a 3-corner hat from the wheel, and jams it down on her head at a jaunty angle as she yells back. "We'll see who's in command when it's away. Now make yourself useful and prepare to repel any hostile boarders! And watch for a merfolk, she's my ally, and you'll just tick her off if you shoot her!"
She looks over the ship critically, looking for anything that is not ready for sailing, knowing from the legends that the entire town will soon be trying to force their way aboard. "And if that gun of yours is worth anything human, shoot the knot holding up the mainsail! It's rigged tight!" She points to the rigged up mainsail. "We'll not be going anywhere with it tied up!"
A wolfish grin sidles onto Zephry's face,
"Well I'll watch you if you want Wings, but you've not even bought me a drink yet so don't be getting any ideas... Now, let's see what me and Bethany here," he pats the musket fondly, "can do about that knot..."
With a practised swagger Zephry plucks a small paper bundle from a pouch tearing it open with his teeth even as he flips his musket upwards, and dumping the contents into the barrel. He takes careful aim with the musket's butt resting upon his shoulder and fires...
Not that it could be heard over the storm and waves but a faint whistle was the only mark of Rissdan Kai. The others thought the dark would hinder him, it did nothing to eyes that were born in the depths. The glint of a thin blade was the only source of light as he cut them down with the grace of a dolphin moving through the waves. Bloody and dead men left in the wake of his blade.
He spotted the ship, saw the many who scrabbled to board it. It mattered not to him, even if she disembarked. As long as she was in water he would make his way on her. Jumping off the dock he landed in the oceans embrace, propelling forward like an arrow shot from a bow. Having no need to surface his breath unaffected by gift of his birth. In time he made it to the Queen.
Bursting out of the water like a jumping dolphin he landed on the deck rapier drawn.
"My such a fine ship."
Heregrihm wipes the ale from his face, spitting a particularly bitter hop on the tavern floor. His blue eyes narrow under his furrowed brow as several of the southlanders began scurrying like rats towards the door. Others outside are running down the street. As a barmaid drifts by, the Ulfen reaches over and grabs her forearm. ”Why do the little rats run?”
She looks over at him a touch of fear around the rims of her eyes, but for her part she keeps her spine straight. ”You don’t know?”
The Ulfen doesn’t answers by tightening his grip on her arm.
It has the opposite effect. The barmaid squares her stance and faces him, her tiny frame is about even with Heregrihm sitting down, but her ignited bravery gives her more height. ”Drop your grip, blondie, or I’ll put broken bottle where the great dawn refuses to shine.”
He grins, releasing her arm while he waits for her answer.
”The Sargasso Queen, she responds, smoothing her sodden skirts as her initial bravery diminishes. ”A ghost ship far as I’m concerned, but locals say it’s enchanted...appears in the harbor every hun’ert years or so.” she shrugs, not completely sold on the notion. ”Some o’ the old timers says the Queen kin take ya anywhere.”
The Sea Reaver stands abruptly, his chair kicking out behind him. He listens as more boots go running by on the street out front, heading in the direction of the harbor. ”Anywhere…” Even if the barmaid wasn’t smart enough to acknowledge tales from her elders, Heregrihm knows better. He’d spent too many years of his life at sea to disregard the legends of old.
”Nice work, blondie,” the barmaid remarks, stooping down to pick up the tossed chair.
He grabs up his boarding pike from where it rests against the table, causing the barmaid to let the chair fall and back away as Heregrihm stalks towards the door to the Wicked Wench. In his mind, this may be the chance he’d been searching for to get back north to Bildt. He grew tired of serving under the small men of the south and their spindly spines.
The door to the tavern bursts open, spilling the Ulfen Sea Reaver into the city streets of Broken Keel. ”Hey!” A man garbed in the worn woolens of a local dock worker rebounds off the door and lands on his tail.
Heregrihm looks down at him, a glare in his eyes that shuts the other man’s mouth immediately, then he turns and begins running towards the harbor.
There, ahead of him off the end of what these southlanders think a pier, a few men are clamoring to get into the water first, a few fights breaking out.
Heregrihm doesn’t stop, barreling through the group, taking one of them in the gut with the butt end of his pike.
Then into the water, lancing through the waves and swimming with all the power his Ulfen body can muster towards the ship in the harbor.
Once there, he grabs hold of his boarding axe and uses it to get purchase against the hull to make his climb aboard.
There were others already on the deck...a human, a winged-creature and one who seems to have fin-like ears and blue tinged skin...perhaps an undine. The winged thing was at the wheel of the ship… Heregrihm growls under his breath, wondering if perhaps it’s a part of the Queen’s enchantment...or one of those strix he’d heard of in barroom tales. Either one didn’t sit well with him. Especially when it began barking orders at the only other human on the deck.
Worse, the human listens...firing a shot at the rope holding the mainsail… ”What are you doing?!?” Heregrihm shouts in bewilderment. Rope is worth more than your scrawny hide on a ship! Instead of approaching, the Ulfen turns and begins stabbing other potential borders as they make their way to the railing. At the least he’d only have to suffer the spineless southlanders already on the deck. He’d give the bat-creature a turn at the wheel, captaining wasn’t in Heregrihm’s blood.
He channels his growing anger at the ship's rail, stabbing mercilessly with his boarding pike.
"Yeah, its alright isn't it? Dibs on first cabin pick by the way. I'm trying to get the sail down sharpish so we don't get overwhelmed by freeloaders, and/or people intent upon maiming me," he glances at Heregrihm's bloody wake, "or us."
Moving over to the rail he points Bethany meaningfully at those in the water, threatening rather than firing - bullets are expensive, and Zephry Kreel doesn't kill for free, unless he feels like it.
"I'm Zephry Kreel, revenge gettin' gunslinger, you got names? Wings? Blue? Blond Beard?"
"Heregrihm." He responds, looking at the man and wondering if his body would make a better boarding pike than the one he already held. Instead, he puts the butt of his own weapon into the face of another man, subtracting more teeth from a mouth already in shortage.
...just in cases...
Kiana makes a perception check to see if the knot is about to break...
She grabs her bow, and quick as lightning fires two arrows toward the knot, making sure it gives this time.
Kiana grabs the wheel and gives it a spin like a sailor dancing with a drunken whore. As the ship jumps forward with the sail booming out, the ship hauls over at an angle, spilling would be owners off.
"You, blue one, kicks as many humans into the water as you can! And watch for a merwoman, she is an ally! I Kiana Sunbane tell you this truely!" Kiana yells at the Undine. She eyes the tall blonde human and the gunslinger as they yell back and forth. These two are the most dangerous, best to bide time and deal with them later. Let them deal with the other humans, that is what there kind is good for anyway, killing each other off. "Sabinae you worthless woman! You are not enough fish to eat, and not enough human to kill! Where is your sorry fluke?! I need you!" She screams at the ocean, willing the merwoman to put in an appearance. She starts aiming the ship for the open water.
At the man's claim of cabins he just snorts. He whirls his rapier at the nearest enemy. Striking true and leaving a bloody gash for their trouble.
"Dibs are for children, if you can't hold what you claim then you deserve it not."
None the less given a moment speaks his name.
Rissdan Kai, I assure you there is a relation."
He did not know how many were aware of his name shakes ether way it mattered not. At the strix, he wondered what their kind was doing here, he merely glanced at her.
"I don't take orders from people who don't prove themselves to me. Don't demand favors if you want them."
"Or you could be a prick about it, relax Riss we'll whack them out for a contest once we're underway. And you don't need to be killing folks just lookin' for a lift big fellow, a crack on the knuckles'll do your job as well. You bloodied the water enough that we'll be seeing fins any second now. I'm no lawman, but I ain't a butcher and I won't stand still for it neither," Zephry says, nodding to Rissdan and Heregrihm in turn.
Heregrihm looks down at the small man, sizing him up for a moment, then steps back from the rail. He spits over the side and shoulders his pike. Weakling.
The big Ulfen steps away from the rail, happy to leave the man there to administer his kisses to those seeking to board. "I'll handle the rope, then." He moves to the main mast and grips the rigging to begin scaling upwards to the ropes in question.
...DC 10 Ship's Rigging
He looks to the rope, noting the damage already given by the southlander's musket, and pulls his boarding axe from his hip to finish the job.
Rissdan mostly ignores the man. Where did he think they were, pirates didn't have mercy only pretenders did. Anyone on the dock would gut them and not spare them a thought after the deed. Bloody waters was only a threat to cowards and land lubbers, sharks were no threat to him or a good swimmer. The only kind that had any right to the water in his mind.
He points with his free arm, a light click escapes from below his armored arm along with a strange arrow at any rigging left to be untied.
Whirling his rapier at any left trying to board he brings it down in a flourish with a fierce expression.
"You can work under me or your blood will feed the fish below. That is the only fate you have when you try to board this ship. Lubbers, fancy jackets, and bubbles need not apply!"
He spares those behind him, out of sight from those he addressed. A half smile and wink. He felt no need to keep fighting gutless rabble.
The former prisoner was on the deck of the Wicked Wench tavern enjoying some mugs of rum and singing, his voice carrying over to the sea with the rest of the patrons. The sailor looked with jealousy at the crews with a berth carousing with their shipmates in town.
Knowing he wasn't to be locked in his cell for the evening made the sorcerer smile as he glanced at the moon. As the galleon coasted into the harbor, Warren realized the wives' tales were true.
He rushed to board the ship, leaving a half-filled mug and a modest bar tab behind.
As Warren runs, his green eyes and red hair give him a strange look for a human. Exotic and handsome his mother said. As he ran the pulsing tattoos of fire on his arms beat in time to his running feet.
I think my tattoo wants me to make it!
"Meet you there!" she calls out to Kiana as they make their way to the ship.
Sabinae gets to the docks and dives into the water. With astonishing speed she swims to the galleon. Once there, she makes her way up a rope on the side. Before she starts she calls out to Kiana. "Kiana, come pull me up!"
A loud crash echoes from below. Most likely some of the portholes and windows are being broken so as to allow crewmembers aboard. Most likely too many to deal with at once. In fact, many of those who made it aboard seem content to just hide or rest in secluded areas.
Those who are attacked will fight back and a growing number of them seem to be taking up the fore of the ship.
Notable characters include a flamboyant group of pirates all sporting vivid colored scarves carving out anyone who approaches their formation near the Queen's prow.
Next round of actions
The Queen is quite large, being a galleon. She has multiple decks and many, many cabins from what you can tell.
Currently, your group holds the helm and no one seems to be contesting it for now.
Describe roughly a couple actions your characters would take while waiting for the sun to rise.
You are free to roleplay amongst yourselves and with NPCs.
Rissdan spies the group with a formation. A little information would not hurt, he was not above bloodying them if they wanted to test him ether. He approaches with his weapon bared but one hand up, as much as a peace sign as they were going to get from him. He makes sure to stay outside the reach of their weapons but close enough to draw attention.
"Your group got a name or a leader? Seems like your among those not going anywhere."
He remained prepared to strike if their answer was steel.
Warren smiles and waves a tattered piece of tunic from a casualty.
"I call a parley. We need to make sure we don't trim the crew too much, you know."
He motions for Rissdan to put his weapon down.
He looks around and singles out the larger group. "You don't want to fight another tough group boyos."
The tattooed human speaks with a calm voice--the red-headed man has personal magnetism, a look of a man with little to lose, and the stance of man used to sailing:
Warren then begins to catalogue his previous ships and positions and encourages the other pirates to do the same.
"We need to know what skills we have, or we are just a mob on a large piece of driftwood11"
Zephry makes agreeable noises while lining up his sights on, for want of better information, the best dressed of the Peacock Pirates,
"How many do we need to crew this beautiful barge properly anyway?" He wonders aloud.
"Thank the gods! I really hate it when you make me wait like that Sabinae! Kiana tells her, tossing a coiled rope off the back of the raised stern. She hauls up on the rope until the merwoman can eel her way onto the deck with her. She promptly grabs a hat from a downed pirate and shoves it onto Sabinae's head. "There, now you're a proper pirate."
Hearing Zephry's question, she turns from Sabinae and looks up and down at the ship.
"We need 3 person teams for the cannons, one trio for each cannon on the port side." She looks up at the yards and spars and sails critically. "We could make do with 7 crew, but we'd be exhausted..." She sounds disturbed by that, and looks around, counting heads, and frowns at the fact that most of the people on deck seem to be human. "Ugh... Call it another 25 for the crew, not counting the gunners, if we're not pirating. If we go pirating, we need another hundred or two for boarding."
Looking over the deck, she calls out to a small group of non-humans that kind of fell together while defending themselves. The largest looks like a tiefling with an eyepatch and tail that ends a foot before it should. "You! You look like you've got experience, who are you, and what good are you?!"
Rissdan spies the group with a formation. A little information would not hurt, he was not above bloodying them if they wanted to test him ether. He approaches with his weapon bared but one hand up, as much as a peace sign as they were going to get from him. He makes sure to stay outside the reach of their weapons but close enough to draw attention.
"Your group got a name or a leader? Seems like your among those not going anywhere."
He remained prepared to strike if their answer was steel.
A half-orc with a hook for a hand and a cutlass in the other looks ready to shove that hook into Rissdan, but a small dark skinned woman puts her hand on the orc's arm. "Peace Saladin, we ain't takin over da ship wit just us. And dey got's da hy-air ground, and da wheel ta boot." Dark braids woven with sea shells make a tinkling sound as the dark skinned woman moves in front of the half-orc. She carries a brace of flintlock pistols on her torso, although half are on the deck, having been emptied of powder and ball into corpses scattered around. The other 3 with her, two more half-orcs and halfling, use the apparent parlay to begin gathering up her weapons for her.
"I be Minasa, Meester Riss-Dan, if I hear yoo right. Dis be Saladin, he don speak." The orc moves his chin up, showing off a nasty scar on his throat with a mirthless grin. "Dat be his baby brodda and seester, Alavis and Tavana. And da shrimp be Mido." The female halfling makes a rude gesture at Minasa for being called a shrimp, but does it with a fierce grin. "I be a good sailor, I climb rigging like spider. Dey be da best damn gunna crew you ever put on a cannon!" She hooks a thumb at the halfling and younger half-orcs. "An Saladin be da best damn fighter you evah saw. We don got da skill to be in control, but we gots all da damn skill we need to be crew."
Warren then begins to catalogue his previous ships and positions and encourages the other pirates to do the same."We need to know what skills we have, or we are just a mob on a large piece of driftwood11"
I will have to have humans on the ship, there's too many of them. I might as well deal with the ones that pretend to be civilized, until they show their true colors. Kiana's solid white eyes harden as she listens to the human try to talk the remainder out of fighting. She makes sure the ship is headed out of the harbor and not headed for any reefs while she waits for the tiefling to decide whether to respond. Once the ship is heading out to sea at a good clip, she loops the tie rope over the spars of the wheel, holding it on course, and steps to the rail looking down over the quarter deck.
"I'm Kiana, and I been on a ship before, I can steer, and I can out fly any damn human on this ship." She calls out in response to Warren's query with amusement. "And unlike you humans, I can see the whole damn ship right now without the lanterns. I'm a good shot with a bow, and I done scout work before." She flexes her large wings, the black feathers reflecting lantern light along the shinier parts. "Just don't ask me to climb through the rigging unless you want the sails fouled for three or four hours. And the first damn bastard that makes a joke about the crow's nest is gonna get an arrow down his gullet!"
Still starring down the barrel Zephry says,
"Alright so we need some of these buggers, and some of them already seem to be in teams. What do you say to a temporary alliance, Kiana, Rissdan, uh, Heregrihm? And, your mate the Merchick? We can revisit the temporary as and when, yes? Let's snag silver tongue there to," looking to Warren and Sabinae in turn he asks, "and what are your names,"
As soon as he climbed on ship, the power of the open sea fueled Warren's natural abilities. He smiled as he felt the raw power of the natural magic of the sea at his disposal.
"Warren, I'm Warren Redmont. Besmara is my patron, and this challenge here needs to be resolved following her rules or she will not bless this ship! And no one wants that to happen! Everyone on board is considered a shipmate until there is reason to believe otherwise. The privileged to be here are here for a reason."
He smiles at Kiana: "You on watch are better than a five man look-out crew! Never seen your kind before."
Warren calls those near him for a quick conference: "We need to take an inventory of ships stores right now. Fresh water and rum needs to be first on the list. We hold those, and we call the shots."
To Kiana: "Can you fly to the other groups and find out what supplies they hold? Once we get the rum and water, we should be in control."
Warren rubs his hands together with glee.
"How about this, we start calling Warren here Captain? Kinda like calling dibs I suppose, only we might win over some of the skallies. Who knows they might even accept it, he seems as sensible as anyone here and he's a smooth talker, which for my money is always the most important part of being a Captain. I know we don't know or trust each other, but we need to be together if we're going to take charge. Course he might get gutted to, but that's a risk I'm willing to take," the last is accompanied by a wink and a smile, that doesn't quite say he's joking.
Heregrihm climbs down from the rigging, seeing that the rope was indeed cut. The winged-creature hits the side rail and assists a merfolk onto the deck. Hmmm, a good omen having one of their kind aboard, but she seems friendly with the strix… A mixed omen then. Besmara was fickle that way, toying with the possible futures of those who desire to be at her less than tender mercies.
Returning to the wheel, the winged-creature babbles on about the advantages of its demon wings, spouting threats and bragging as the southlanders are wont to do. Hmmm, even demons fall prey to the empty headed, spineless south… The Ulfen cracks his knuckles as he works his fists, wondering if supplies should dwindle, is the creature bird enough to serve as food. His earlier thoughts of allowing it to command are quickly dismissed. Instead the barbarian wonders at seasoning and the delicious meals he'd enjoyed...one in particular a southlander had called turkey.
The mass of bodies forward of the ship drew his attention. More for the axe... He spits on the deck and frees his greataxe, holding it before him, the broad blade a wicked reflection of the grin beneath his beard. Food and talking birds would have to wait, first they would need to pacify those on the ship. Only the strongest should be left alive. The southlander with the boom-stick speaks of alliances while the other, the silver-tongue with tattoos, speaks of need and order. Heregrihm can't argue, they'll have need of crewmen to keep the ship above the waves. And without order...well, that would be where Heregrihm plays his part. He would enjoy keeping order among the crew who survives the next few moments.
Heregrihm shrugs agreement with the one called Zephry, stepping forward to stand behind and to the right of the tattooed man named Warren. "If we have chosen our captain poorly, then Besmara will sort it out."
"Well! I arrive just in time for the fights. I will run the betting table as long as the whole thing is kept civil. We need every able bodied person we can get."
"I am Sabinae." she says to those she has not yet met.
Slithering over to Kiana she pulls her aside. "I know you don't like humans but we do need everyone we can get. Thats means tolerating them for a while. We will deal with them as we need to. Ok?"
Rissdan nodded to the five who had answered him with some rare good sense not seen from the time he boarded the ship. Sadly it is short lived as the strix starts preening her feathers, the gunman starts running at the mouth, and now some sweet talking fool. Baring his teeth he wondered if any of the three knew anything of pirating or the sea. He turned to the two humans with more tongue then steel.
"Besmara has no rules, if you don't even know that then don't insult her with your prayers. She is not kind or forgiving. Now I don't know what pirates you know, if any. But you start calling yourself Captain and half this ship is going to attack you and anyone friendly to you. That title is earned and kept by the grace of the crew or your own salt. No amount of pretty words is going to change that. As to your little plan, it's done before you started. Maybe you failed to notice their are plenty below deck already. Anything down there is claimed and held, you'll only get a fight. Which is all the excuse someone will need to try and claim the wheel."
He whirls his rapier before taking a seat on the steps leading up to the wheel. His blade naked and ready.
"I don't ally with people who don't think. Not unless they have the strength to make up for that shortcoming."
The Queen was a galleon, she needed at least twenty to be crewed. Not counting pilot or weapon teams. The average galleon could hold at most one hundred twenty passengers. Odds were they would be overloaded if more kept coming, the ship would be useless in such a state. They had what was needed already on deck.
Kiana tilts her head at Sabinae, and sighs. "Just because you're right doesn't mean I have to like it." She grumbles back to Sabinae softly, eyeing the large three humans arguing with the undine.
Responding to the gunslinger, she affects a haughty look. "Stop buttering my bottom, you're not my type. And stop calling Sabinae 'merchick'." She calls back. "I have no interest in being captain myself. If some human wants to claim that title, I see no reason to stop them." She chimes in after Rissden's speech, but there's a hint of humor in her face. No reason at all, it will be fun to watch the humans kill each other for the title.
Listening to Warren talk about rules, she shrugs. "I have no knowledge of gods, they are cold bastards that are there when you give them prayers of praise and cowards who run when you send them prayers of need. But there does need to be some order to this, not wanton slaughter." She eyes Sabinae, showing she is willing to let the humans prove their need to be killed before killing them. "The below decks people have whatever food and grog is below, but it's of no importance. We control this deck, we control the ship. We can seal them in below and let them kill each other if we need to. Food we can get from the ocean easily enough, and water can be flown in." She smiles sweetly in the torchlight. She looks to the non-humans she'd addressed earlier. "You, seal the hatches to the below decks, let them come to us to negotiate, it will put us in the better position, unless you'd rather try to take control of the ship."
She returns to looking over the ship and people, and nods. "I can fly around and see what we have, for those who are willing to talk. It is a mete job for a First Mate, which is the title I will seek to claim. I have no patience for cajoling a crew. The job of the First Mate is to maintain discipline, to draw blood without hesitation if it is needed, and to watch the back of the Captain to prevent mutiny." She grins fiercely in the dim light, white teeth glinting. "I have no hesitation when it comes to spilling the blood of anyone stupid enough to foment mutiny. And as the first to touch the deck of the ship, I have some claim."
Warren points out to the undine: "You can insult me, but I will not suffer insults and heresy to Besmara. Besmara has a code described in a holy text, which her worshippers do recognize as sacred. If you refuse to follow them or acknowledge them, that is your choice. But I cannot ally with those who spurn Besmara's code."
Warren recites from rote memory:
' --End Your Quarrels on Shore: Whatever disagreements
one sailor has with another, onboard a ship is not the
place to settle them, for everyone’s survival depends on
the crew working together. If one member of the crew has
a disagreement with another, the place to settle it is on
shore—whether this is a port or just a sandy beach.'
Holy Text
The Pirate Queen’s holy text is Besmara’s Code, just a few
pages detailing treatment of crew, treasure, and captives.
Most priests who can read make copies in their own hand;
those who cannot read memorize the text’s key points and
ignore what doesn’t concern them.
Aphorisms
These three phrases are the core of the goddess’s code, and
any person familiar with her faith should recognize them
and understand what they mean.
--End Your Quarrels on Shore: Whatever disagreements
one sailor has with another, onboard a ship is not the
place to settle them, for everyone’s survival depends on
the crew working together. If one member of the crew has
a disagreement with another, the place to settle it is on
shore—whether this is a port or just a sandy beach.
--Thirty Stripes Lacking One: The traditional punishment
for a serious infraction on the ship is thirty lashes on the
bare back. The captain or boatswain, however, may choose
to reserve the last (30th) lash as an act of mercy if the target
is repentant or unconscious. Still, the captain always has
the option to make that last strike at any time—a threat to
ensure better behavior from the target. Usually this “lash
debt” is canceled once the ship makes port, and always if the
target leaves the crew.
--Truce Ends at the Horizon: While pirates recognize
the need for parley, any truce is only valid until the
opposing ship is past the horizon. This gives the weaker
captain a head start should he fear the other captain’s
intentions. Breaking this part of the code is seen as not
only unsportsmanlike, but a threat to all pirates.
The undine's words make sense. At least they resonate deeper with Heregrihm than the others. Strength was one thing, cunning another. You would need both to captain a ship of any size. When the one called Rissdan raises his head, the Ulfen nods respect to his words. It was on his mind to provide the strength the tattooed man needed to lead a crew. But perhaps, there was need of blood to shed truth on who deserved to be leader.
Heregrihm tries not to react to the demon's words as it flaps its vile lips. He would rather see the winged-creature's head on the prow of the ship. The thought elicits a chuckle from his bearded face as he looks up at it.
But then it carries on speaking. Its words clearly denoted a demonic nature, so ready to blaspheme the gods. From what he saw so far, the stories of the strix were true. An image of the creature's decapitated body sends bubbles of fury through his blood. The sea reaver grips the haft of his greataxe tighter, trying to stop the swell of anger in his chest that threatens to typhoon out of control.
I will wait. Sooner or later words will end and blood will be required. Whomever proves the strongest and most cunning will win outright. Besmara will show me the way.
In answer to his silent prayer, the tattooed man named Warren speaks as one who knows the goddess. At the end of his words, Heregrihm nods approval. Yes, a decision will be made soon...
Rissdan gives the foolish man a bored look. His free hand removes a flask from under his chest armor that bears Besmara's holy symbol in silver and onyx, the skull gleaming with the contrast.
"Unlike some I am no pretender, a true pirate knows better. That code only applies to ship and crew mates. Just because two people are on the same ship it does not mean that the code applies, faithful or not. Also Besmara cares not for conflicts among her faithful. Killing you would not displease her, nor would you killing me."
He puts his flask away, ready to spring at the heretic should it be needed. Not overly religious, the goddess was not one for that after all. He did find the lubber to be grating on his nerves.
"As I said Besmara makes no laws, she only gives guidelines at best. The only thing she does not permit is weakness, most of all from those who would claim to be a Captain. I have seen no strength form you. You have proved nothing, only given words. Words can lie, actions can not."
He rose back to his feet in case the man wanted to test him.
Kiana looks as the humans go back to bickering, even drawing the undine into it. She sighs as she finishes taking off the backpack to hand to Sabinae. "You see, Sabinae. It is as I said, humans cannot help it. They are unable to keep themselves from fighting amongst themselves, is it any wonder I trust them no farther than I could throw the ship? Gold, Women, and Gods. Those are the three things that humans kill over. And they cannot stop themselves even to save their own lives." She says, loud enough to be overhread, having no reason to hide her views. Besides, maybe some of them have enough of a concept of pride to at least be shamed into pretending to be civilized creatures. She thinks to herself. "Beware them while I canvas the ship to see if there are enough crew aboard, if any attempt to assail the wheel, yell for me and I will wing back to your assistance. Try not to get drawn into their self-destructiveness." Then she leaps off the edge of the deck, taking wing through the mist thrown up by the ship as it slices through the water, winging out and back around, looking for groups on deck who are not armed with ranged weapons and who seem calmer than the humans do. Perhaps she can find enough non-humans to crew the ship after the humans kill themselves off.
The Ulfen's grin broadens. He steps to the side enough so he can stretch his shoulders and shift his grip on the axe. Ah, yes. There will be blood soon. Soon this show will end.
"Yes, I tire of the small words of small minds." He says finally. "I am Heregrihm, son of Resatari the Iron Eye. Whomever proves their mettle has my axe. Or I will simply take this ship for my own. Let Besmara decide the right of it."
As the moments pass aboard the ship, a sudden detonation is heard offshore.
A loud cry of "Cannonfire!" rings forth from one of the men climbing aboard the ship, a slim half-elf with ruddy blonde hair.
Seconds later the cannonball makes impact with the ship, driving a hull two decks below yours.
The multitude of bickering boarders dive for cover, momentarily forgetting their fight.
The half-elf picks up once the shot connects. "Damn Navy, they'd rather sink the Queen than let us take her! I am not leader aboard the Queen but I sure as damnation will not want her as my grave! Anyone who thinks likewise get to the cannons, arm them and let's show those Navy braggarts what real men can do when roused!"
As he gets up, he heads first towards the group of flamboyant pirates and then rushes towards you.
"I know not, and care not who controls this ship long as I survive its departure. The others over there are content with manning the rigging for the time being and it looks like they're getting others aloft. I say one of you take the helm and another two get belowdecks and help out in any way you can."
As he turns around, tightening his armor he turns around one last time and bellows "The name's Amryth Hawthorne! I'll be tending to the wounded belowdecks!"
Moments later he's gone.
Meanwhile, the Navy ships in the harbor are slowly approaching the Queen and cannonades begin to sound. Though the shots either only graze or miss, they are fast approaching.
===
Minassa and her gang are aloft in the rigging with some other boarders and are working the sails as best they can.
The sails are ready and the ship can sail.
It's either now, or never.
===
Rissdan forgets everyone else instantly looking out towards the coming enemy.
His eyes could see through the darkness but not exceptionally well. Still anything he could make out would be of help.
"Get to work you dogs!"
He went to the wheel, the strix was missing but she could fly as she often lorded over others about. He started piloting the ship to get away from the dock and positioned to return fire.
Kiana is in mid flight as the cannon slams into the side of the Queen. She curses in Strix, and looks back toward the ship firing on her. Swooping past the Stern.
"SABINAE! TURN THE SHIP! PUT THE STERN TO THE ATTACKERS! CROSS THEIR T!" Crossing the T of a sailing vessel meant the attackers only had a small target, the stern itself, while the stern guns could fire on the entire length of the other ship. "PRIORITIZE THE STERN CANNONS! KEEP THE T CROSSED UNTIL WE CAN GET THE BROADSIDES READY TO FIRE!" She screams out to Rissden and all the others on the quarter deck as she swoops over it. "I'LL GO DISTRACT THEM!"
Kiana then takes advantage of the dark to use her darkvision, swooping toward the attacking ship. She goes wide, and swoops toward the stern of the attacking vessel, looking for the captain, who will be on the stern, in control of his ship.
Once she spots him, she'll begin firing while swooping in a circle around the stern of the ship, aiming for the captain and/or helmsman if she can't find the captain.
Warren quickly follows the half-elf below.
More for a change in scenery and to get more perspective on the 'Queen'.
Heregrihm raises his axe to the skies, a tremendous bellow escaping him to match the incoming canon fire. "Ah, see? Besmara answers!! Ah ha ha!!" He points his axe along the decks. "Nothing like shared violence to bring a new crew together!"
The Ulfen strides across the deck to the rail to view the incoming ships. ..."I know nothing of cannons, but I can repel borders. I will gather others below decks and return."
With that, Heregrihm goes below, searching for the roughest characters to see to the task of keeping enemies off the ship.
Zephry sighs, but gives up for the time being, trying to be the voice of reason was never his calling. Instead he strolls over the canons and takes charge of them, assuming optimistically that its basically just a big musket.
"You, you, you, you lot, and fatso there get on those arsing canons now! Nobody is going to shoot at us without a bloodied nose! Anyone who doesn't feel like working on a cannon is getting shot in the balls so I suggest they develop the urge! Anyone who knows what they are doing with a canon needs to speak up now!"
But the majority of the men continue to surge towards the hold, so Zephry sighs and shoots an unsavory looking fellow - who doesn't like he can have any legitimate need for his personal harpoon - in the balls, and calmly reloads,
"I've got more bullets that you've got balls so get on the mother humping canons you pieces of scraggly trailing shark dung!"
But despite his heroic efforts to be reasonable most of the cowards flee below, leaving only a few men sensible enough to see that being in the hold won't do them a bit of good in The Queen is blown out of the water.
Snarling the gunslinger splits the group up into teams of two and has each team man a canon, he then instructs them - somewhat awkwardly - in the process of loading the weapons and gets them firing as quickly as possible so he can begin gauging range and trajectory, and maybe make the navy think twice...
"I've no experience with sailing or much in the way of combat I'm afraid. How can I help?"
Zephry looks back over his shoulder at the mermaid, hmmm, I'd let her save me from drowning.
"First you don't want to be saying stuff like that on this floating vipers nest, show a bit of front, by which I mean bravado, not your, um, by which I mean bravado. Second if you can swim well enough to manage it could you jam something in the rudder of their lead ship? If you don't fancy that help me load these cannons so we can bite back."
"I didn't say I knew nothing of combat, I said sailing and combat. Next, I'm not leaving the ship just now. I don't feel that's wise. I will stay on deck and keep an eye out for any dangers that may not get spotted."
Sabinae moves to the side that the naval ship is approaching from and keep a lookout. She also makes sure any boarding party does not make it aboard unnoticed.
"Oh, you'll stand around and do bugger all hey? How very helpful. If you don't want suggestions don't bleeding well ask for them," Zephry retorts, irritably, at least she isn't running below decks. Making a crew out of this flotsam is going to be like herding sharks.