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Rogar: Con not Fort. Keep the roll, change the bonus. Not that it makes any difference but still...
Rogar walks back to the Quartermaster's store, carrying a bowl of soup with him. "'ere ya go, finest vichyssoise ye have ever tasted, even if I say so meself. Well, best one made from seawater 'n seaweed 'n potatoes, ha! Still, dee-licious!" he says, passing the bowl over to Grok.
"Anyway, with fishin' not going too well, I reckon Plugg is goin' t' enjoy some disciplinary action out of me skin. So I could really use me remedies, and if it's no bother to ye, could ye pass me alchemy stuff over t' me?"
---- Evening actions ----
The daily grog ration hits like a hammer, and a wide smile appears on the dwarf's face. Feeling jolly, he turns to Giffer Tibbs, striking up a conversation. "Oi lad! Tibbs, is it..? Have ye ever heard a tale of captain..."
"... captain Blackhammer, greatest dwarf pirate ever set a foot on Shackles. Build a ship out o' iron n' steel, like a true dwarf would. The ship sunk like a rock o' course..."
The food you are served seems a spot better than the crew are used to and, as they eat, their are many appreciative noises from the pirates. Although Shaeda leaves soon after swallowing her rum, disappearing below decks, the rest of the crew soon break out their various dice and cards and other gaming paraphernalia and separate, once again into little groups between which individual pirates constantly shift and move. Alessandra grabs a few belaying pins and begins easily twirling them about her head almost hypnotically and soon a small crowd of pirates gather, encouraging her to add more, then more still. Eventually she does stumble, but the gathered crew applaud heartily before sending a few appreciative comments forward. . Meanwhile, 'Doc' stumbles over to Giffer Tibbs with a wide grin and seats himself down next to the bedraggled gnome. As they share some rum and food the spark up an easy conversation, talking of ships and piracy deep into the night. .
Just as Doc finally eases himself to his feet with a little stumble of drunkenness, Grokk staggers out onto the deck carrying a few items... "Here now (hic), where is she, i mean he, ha! (hic). Are there you are! Best bloody vischys,.... vichy,.. vishisw,.. soup i've had in a (hic) while! Here's ya book, an' some knives too fer you an' yer friends! I don't want anything t' happen t' you, not when ye serve up good slush like that! Best bloody food fer ages (hic) I don't mind tellin' ya."
As she stumbles forward she thrusts a package into your hands and then crashes over to the rail where she is noisily sick, before she turns and swayingly makes her way back below deck. When you examine the package you find your alchemy kit and formula book and 5 rusty but serviceable daggers.
EDIT!
You carefully examine the door to Peppery's laboratory, nervously looking over your shoulder for signs of anyone coming. At first the lock looks perfectly normal, but, just as you hear steps coming down the stairs, you spot a small wire running from the lock itself to the hinges at the side. Although you are certain that the door is trapped, you are not certain of its nature.
Bellara nods at Alessandra, thankful that someone was watching out for her. "I suppose there is a time and a place for everything and I shall take a pass on this one for now. I thank you for your concern, my dear. I'll try elsewhere."
The Taldan girl withdraws with grace and picks a less complicated target nearby.
Like Shaeda, Bellara heads for her hammock early, leaving the raucous pirates to their sport above deck. Meanwhile Diego once again tries to entertain the crew with a tale of plunder and vice on the high seas. Although his performance is enjoyed by several of them, he fails to gather a crowd of anything like the extent of Alessandra. Eventually the carousing dies down as members of the crew slip below-decks to sleep.
The next day dawns bright and cloudless, and you join the rush of sailors making their way above deck to be given their tasks for the day. Plugg, grinning, immediately makes his way overt those of you who failed yesterday's jobs (Doc, Alessandra and Shaeda) "You three are bloody sorry excuses for bloody sailors. To the bilges. NOW! Ye'll be pumpin' and cleanin' 'em ou all bloody day, and every day 'till yer can do a bloody decent day's work!" As the three of you hurry off to the bilges Plugg makes his way along the line. When he comes to Bellara he stops. "You and Ratline're on rigging repair. Go now. Hop to it! As fer you" he says to Diego "Yer a runner today. You an' Aretta. We'll see if yer any better at it than yer friends."
Shaeda, Doc & Alessandra:
DC 12 Str & DC 10 Con or fatigued.
Bellara:
DC 10 Profession or Sailor & DC 10 Climb.
Diego:
DC 10 Acrobatics & DC 10 Con or fatigued.
You can post your daytime and nighttime actions
Diego entertain:
Day shift swabs:
Diego (PC):
Sandra Quinn
Rosie Cusswell
Giffer Tibbs
Jack Scrimshaw
“Badger” Medlar
Aretta Bansion
Crimson “Cog” Cogward
Night shift swabs:
Shivikah
Tilly Brackett
Jaundiced Jape
Fipps Chumlett
Riggers:
Bellara (PC)
“Barefoot” Sams Toppin
“Ratline” Ratsberger
Maheem
Slippery Sly Lonegan
Tam “Narwhal” Tate
Conchobar Turlach Shortstone
Bilge duty:
Doc
Shaeda
Alessandra
-----------------------------
Flushed with the success of her juggling (and from the effects of the rum), Alessandra grins hugely as Grok's parcel is unwrapped. One of the knives disappears so quickly you'd think it was by magic - the girl smiles to herself as she conceals it in her clothing. Even her failure to identify the trap on the alchemist's laboratory doesn't feel as annoying, now, as it did at the time. Tomorrow she, too, will visit the quartermaster to see what she can scrounge up.
-----------------------------
Alessandra notes Plugg's grin and decides that it cannot bode anything good. Still, pumping the bilges has to be better than the rat-catching Shaeda was sent to do the other day. At least she's not alone this time.
(Str bonus, shop penalty)
Keen to get the job over with, Alessandra volunteers to take first shift on the pump, and applies herself enthusiastically, taking it as an opportunity to vent some of her stored-up anger. "So, while I'm doing this, why doesn't one of you entertain me with your life story? Doesn't look as if we're going anywhere for a while..."
-----------------------------
Partway through the day, once it's one of the others' turn to do the pumping, Alessandra excuses herself and pays a visit to the quartermaster's store.
--------------------
That night, aware that she enjoyed the previous evening but also aware that she probably ought to have gone exploring, Alessandra dumps her rum ration before heading off.
Unfortunately, it's clear that her work on the bilge pump earlier that day, while successful, has taken its toll on her fine motor control: what was intended to be a swift, smooth action - the sort she has made dozens of times in the past - somehow goes horribly wrong...
Having received her orders for the day, Shaeda responds with a hearty, "Aye aye sir" and she heads down to the bilges trying to act excited about her assignment to such a physically demanding task. "Well, there be nothing for it, but to knuckle down and get 'er done," she thinks to herself, "at least there be two friendly faces comin' along for the day."
Upon arriving in the deep dark hold where the bilge pump can be found, Shaeda accepts Alessandra's offer to take the first turn at the pumps in exchange for her life story.
"Very well milady, so me story it is. Well, I was born when I was very young," she begins. "Me mother was a ship's slave aboard a Chelish man-o-war. I never did know me father, but mum always said he was the finest looking halfling she ever did meet. I was born one dark night, in a blustery storm as we was rounding the Eye of Abendego. The sailors said it was Besmara's Blessing to be born such, and they insisted that I was good luck and kept me aboard. Being summat pretty, me mum was afraid that the sailors might take too much of a likin' to me, and so she made as to teach me to fish. Now fishing can be hard, or it can be easy, but either way, it can be stinky, and stinky is what me mum had in mind, for what man wants to lay with a fish? Well, maybe sailors I suppose, but that was how me muther had it figgered."
While she continues her story, Shaeda will go ahead and take the time to search the bilge deck.
Continuing on with her story, "when I was near on into me twentieth year, but appearing like a teen still to the humans, some Andoran pirates laid theyselves alongside that man-o-war and was takin' her over. Being a halfer and a slave, they took me in and set me free, although me muther never made it off the ship, as the Chels set her afire and rode her into the deep. I spent nigh on ten years with those Andorans, learning the sea trade and fighting slavers and the like. Twas a good life, but hard, and I always felt that mebbe I was a bit too gritty to be a freedom fighter me whole life, and so I set ashore tree months past and made me way to Port Peril and the [i]Formidably Maid.[i] Obviously you know where it has gone from there eh? So it looks to be me turn on the pumps eh?
And Shaeda will take over her shift on the pumps.
Sorry: dex or profession (sailor)
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With a good night's rest and a belly full of vichyssoise behind her, Bellara faces her day with aplomb. The blonde Taldan is practically brimming with cheer as she climbs the masts, knots the rigging and hoists sails with enthusiasm. Aided by her swiftness and innate sense of balance, Bell's work goes by smoothly. She is pleased to find a halfling working beside her. The long arms and the missing fingers don't bother her one bit, she's seen such injuries at the shipyards in Taldor.
As Bell ties a complicated knot in the rigging, she turns to the halfing. Her smile is genuine, unlike the last time she attempted conversation with her shipmates. "It's good to be working up here today, isn't it? I'd take a day up here where the sun and wind are fair over having to spend a day below decks. If there's anything I can do to help you out, let me know. My name's Bellara, by the way. What's yours?"
Once dinner is out of the way and Bellara has enough rum in her to consider performing again, she waits until Diego has done his performance for the night. After the tattooed man finishes, Bell stands, carefully smoothing down her jacket to give herself time to quiet her nerves. After the last performance, she willed this one to be more in line with what she was capable of. Striding confidently to the middle of the tables in the galley, she belts out a slow, pensive ballad. The words are in halfling, but the melancholy sentiment is clear in the melody, no matter the language.
Éist le mo chroí,
Go brónach a choích'
Tá mé caillte gan tú
's do bhean chéile.
An grá mór i do shaoil
Treoraí sé mé.
Bígí liomsa i gcónaí
Lá 's oích'.
Ag caoineadh ar an uaigneas mór
Na deora, go brónach
'Na gcodladh ins an uaigh ghlas chiúin
Faoi shuaimhneas, go domhain.
Aoibhneas a bhí
Ach d'imigh sin
Sé lean tú
Do fhear chéile.
An grá mór i do shaoil
Treoraí sé mé.
Bígí liomsa i gcónaí
Lá 's oích'.
Smaointe, ar an lá
'Raibh sibh ar mo thaobh
Ag inse scéil
Ar an dóigh a bhí
Is cuimhin liom an lá
Gan ghá 's gan ghruaim
Bígí liomsa i gcónaí
Lá 's oích'.
Listen to my heart,
Forever sad
I'm lost without you
and your wife.
The great love in your lives
Will guide me.
Be with me always
Day and night.
Weeping due to the great loneliness
The tears, sorrowfully
Asleep in the quiet green grave
In a deep peace.
There was blissfulness
But that is gone
You followed
Your husband.
The great love in your lives
Will guide me.
Be with me always
Day and night.
A thought, on the day
You were at my side
Telling tales
Of how things were.
I remember the day
Carefree and happy
Be with me always
Day and night.
Without a single instrument accompanying her, Bellara's voice fills the galley, strong and pure. The song's words have always moved her, it spoke of something she longed for but never had. Tears begin to wet her lashes. Her eyes slide closed as she recalls the song taught to her by one of the older shipyard workers during her youth. She lets the song trail away after the last note, tossing a small nod at Diego.
Once she has a chance to slip away, she checks in with her friends. Frustrated with the locks she encountered while trying to explore, Bellara is eager for any news about their new ship. "Has anyone been successful at finding anything useful? I was thwarted by locks each time I tried!"
During the meal, which I'm sure will be excellent, Shaeda will relay to her friends whatever she discovers in the bilges, taking special care to describe how horrible the water and gunk is, she'll listen to what they have to report, and then she'll promptly bed down for the night! She can't start tomorrow fatigued!
--------------------
SHAEDA
Alessandra is glad to be facing away from Shaeda as the halfling recounts her life story; the dignified way in which she talks of what must have been extreme hardship brings an unaccustomed lump to the half-orc girl's throat. Twenty years on a slave boat! And then ten years fighting slavers! She must have seen
The 16 year old slips the halfling a quick, admiring, glance: "Th-thank you for sharing that, I'm really glad to have heard it. How- how old are you? If you don't mind me asking, I mean..."
--------------------
BELLARA
In answer to Bellara's question , eager to show off what she's discovered, Alessandra promptly rattles off a list of the locked doors: "Captain's cabin, armoury, laboratory, Plugg and Scourge's cabin, gunpowder store. Laboratory's trapped, don't know what with. Hope to find out, best leave me to it. The others might also be trapped, haven't checked. Don't go meddling with them; try the bilges or the kitchen - I could do with a second knife, there must be something there you could steal without Fishg- without the cook finding out..." Alessandra colours slightly at the nickname, remembering her painful misunderstanding with Bellara on that point. She hopes no one notices.
As the meal ends and the rum ration is dispensed, she makes her fateful decision: determined to be sober for any exploration or sneaking, she tries - and fails - to dump her grog without being noticed.
After yet another day spent in the stinking heat of the bilges Alessandra, Shaeda and Doc emerge from the cramped sweaty confines before making their way to the deck to receive their food and grog rations. Scourge poked his head into the hold in mid-afternoon and found Doc and Shaeda 'resting' which earned them the promise of the bilges again the next day. Alessandra was, luckily, hard at work on the bilge pump, and for managed to avoid the boatswain's wrath. Shaeda, unmindful of the foul water, rummages around in the foul water, emerging stinking, but proudly bearing 21GP, 12 SP, a masterwork dagger, and a golden earring set with a red ruby for her efforts! Late in the day, when Alessandra ducks out of the bilges, she quickly makes her way to the Quartermaster's store. When she knocks, however, she finds the room empty and, miraculously, unlocked...
Bellara proves herself adept at moving about on the vertiginous rigging far above the deck, cracking jokes with her companion and together they easily perform their task without any mishaps and find themselves to be kindred spirits in their love of relative freedom of the high masts. . Likewise, Diego, keen to avoid the bilges, works hard all day, running messages between the crew and officers. When the day ends, however, he is covered on sweat and, exhausted, barely greets you as rations are parcelled out.
As night-time closes in, Diego and Shaeda both head to their hammocks to sleep, as Bell's dulcet tones fill the still night air, quickly a crowd gather round, and, as the song finishes melodic sound of her voice fades away, more than one of the toughened pirates surreptitiously wipe tears from their eyes. .
Alessandra, however, thinking to keep her mind clear for the night, tries to surreptitiously dump her rum ration. As she tilts her cup, however, just as the amber liquid begins to pour out, her wrist is grabbed. Looking up she finds herself staring into the eyes of Mr Scourge. "Been a while since we 'ad a floggin" he says, roughly pushing the half-orc into the arms of Lonegan and Narwhal, who are standing nearby. "Strap 'er to the mast boys!" As the crew gather, and Alessandra is tied to the mast, Scourge grins with pleasure, readying his whip. "This 'ere is what 'appens to them who waste the captain's rum!" he says, delivering 3 vicious strikes with his whip. As the girl slumps in pain, Scourge laughs and turns away. "Right! Now fer' a bloody drink" he says, smiling and making his way below-decks. After the punishment the mood generally seems to sour and many of the pirates assembled make their way to their hammocks earlier than usual.
Task: Take 10
Con:
--------------------
IN THE QUARTERMASTER'S STORE
Hardly believing her luck (and unware that it's about to change for the worse), Alessandra quickly looks around to see what's there. She is keen to spot anything of particularly fine quality, but will be grateful just to regain some of her own possessions if nothing else comes to light.
--------------------
FLOGGING
Alessandra's embarrassment at being caught quickly turns to humiliation as her back is bared, revealing her grey-green skin and clear non-human origin (this - to her - is more shameful than the actual flogging). The girl does her best not to cry out as the whip strikes her repeatedly, but she cannot stop the breath whistling out of her lungs with every blow.
The stripes from the whip leave angry red weals overlaying the mess of scars and badly-healed cuts (some quite recent) clearly visible on her torso and emaciated ribcage. She waits to pass out, but Scourge clearly knows his work and she is forced to endure the pain.
Afterward, gathering what little dignity she can, the half-orc girl covers herself up and stumbles away from the main deck, toward somewhere more private. In a secluded corner of the hold, she curls up, arms wrapped around legs and her face resting on her knees, coarse black hair concealing her eyes.
Add thieves tools to your inventory.
Yes, but make sure you RP the fact that this is NOT nice. - Whilst there are (effectively) no mechanical effects (assuming you sleep through the night) it should not be something you treat as 'meh'. (you guys seem to be doing this anyway, 'cause you're awesome, but worth noting anyway.)
Yes, but make sure you RP the fact that this is NOT nice.
- Tough Cookie...
EDIT: Just seen your post below - I didn't think that's what you were implying, but thanks for the clarification
[Dice=Con/Fort check if you want it]d20 - Tough Cookie...
Didn't meN to imply that you weren't RPing it - you are. Just an explanation of my thinking.
Sorry, medium sized, but maybe Grok has something smaller?
Shaeda sits down with her chow next to Rogar, thanks him for the dagger he had given her, and slips him the masterwork dagger she found in the bilges today, "here my friend, this is likely worth a great deal. Mebbe you can see what you can get fer it, or maybe swap it for some of your things out of Grok."
Shaeda approaches the young half orc girl, and careful not to touch the girl's back, she leans close, "there there deary, the first time taking the lash is the worst, but ye held up fine. Looksy here what Shaeda gots," and she produces the golden earring with the ruby. "Now you can keep her, but I suggest ye take her to Grok and see just what ye can get for her," and Shaeda places the earring in Alessandra's hands and closes her fist over it. As she turns to walk away Shaeda looks over her shoulder, "tomorrow be another day lassy."
The 16 year old slips the halfling a quick, admiring, glance: "Th-thank you for sharing that, I'm really glad to have heard it. How- how old are you? If you don't mind me asking, I mean..."
"Well, let's see," Shaeda counts her fingers a couple times, "I've seen thirty two summers meself, which leaves me fairly young in human years. Let me see, me mother once taught me a jingle about how to figure ages, it was, ummm thirty days, no, dammit that's length o the months. Well, anyways, as the humans would reckon, I'm probably barely into me second decade, but who cares about such things as age?
Shaeda will take the evening opportunity to search area A10 the "Lower Holds and Crew Berths"
Taking 20 on her Perception gives her a 26
And then to avoid getting caught.
Cross my fingers that's good enough!
--------------------
SOMEWHERE IN THE HOLD
"Mph." Aware that this isn't the most gracious response to Shaeda's kindness, Alessandra quickly rubs her eyes and looks up at the halfling, brushing her hair back with one hand as she does so. She gratefully accepts the earring " 'Nk you. 'S pretty." She hesitates. "Didn't mean to suggest you were old, earlier - 's just that most people I know who are 30 look ancient, and you don't so I wasn't sure..." She trails off. Life on the streets has a way of aging people fast, and she's not aware that most other races age far more slowly than humans.
Alessandra's grateful that Shaeda came to see her, but grateful too that she doesn't stay long: any more kindness really would have made the girl burst into tears.
Alessandra's flogging catches Bellara off guard. Each time the cat struck the girl's flesh, Bell clamped her jaws together even tighter, willing herself not to interfere though she desperately longed to.
Once Alessandra withdrew, Bell's first instinct was to go to her immediately. Worried that the young girl might not want to be seen in such a state, she hesitates. Later, noticing Shaeda coming out of the hold, Bell decides to hazard a visit. Pausing by the halfling, she gives Shaeda's small shoulder a grateful squeeze for visiting the young girl before she continues down. Her long limbs eat up the distance to the hold, though she slows her steps once she nears Alessandra.
She sensed the half-orc's embarrassment at having her back bared for all to see, and opts not to stand too close, allowing the hold's shadows to give the other girl a sense of privacy. "My dear Alessandra, I came to check upon you. If there anything you need, anything at all, do let me know." She shakes her golden head in misery at her inability to provide solace to the girl at a time like this. She creeps a little closer to Alessandra's huddled form, her hand fluttering awkwardly in the other girl's direction, unsure whether or not her touch would be welcomed. Sighing softly, she drops her hand instead. "I just wanted you to know that you aren't alone."
Shaeda and Doc Bilge duty, with only each other for company...
DC 12 Str, and DC 10 Con or fatigued.
Alessandra: Since Doc is stuck in the Bilges you are given the task of helping Fishguts cook for today. He's completely drunk, so you're going to have to do it all by yourself.
DC 10 Profession (cook) or Int.
Diego: Swab the decks, all by yourself...
DC 10 Str or Con, Failure = failed task and fatigued.
Bell: Rope work with Maheem and Narwhal...
DC 10 Profession (sailor) or Dex
Day shift swabs:
Alessandra (PC):
Diego (PC):
Sandra Quinn
Rosie Cusswell
Giffer Tibbs
Jack Scrimshaw
“Badger” Medlar
Aretta Bansion
Crimson “Cog” Cogward
Night shift swabs:
Shivikah
Tilly Brackett
Jaundiced Jape
Fipps Chumlett
Riggers:
Bellara (PC)
“Barefoot” Sams Toppin
“Ratline” Ratsberger
Maheem
Slippery Sly Lonegan
Tam “Narwhal” Tate
Conchobar Turlach Shortstone
Bilge duty:
Doc
Shaeda
Fishguts:
Oops, I was thinking it was a DC 10 on the bilges, taking 10 won't do it.
Phew!
Passed the fatigue check above. And posted my night actions.
--------------------
STILL IN THE HOLD
Alessandra grits her teeth - she messed up and got caught. The normal thing to do would be to tell her off, to keep her head down. Why is everyone being kind?
The girl can cope with being beaten up, but she doesn't have any defences against being cared about afterwards. Bellara's compassion - and obvious concern for her friend - is too much to deal with in her current state. Alessandra's detachment crumples and gives way to wracking sobs, which she tries - and fails - to gulp back.
...
Eventually regaining some composure, she tries out a weak smile on her friend: " 'S not all bad - Shaeda gave me this; what do you think of it?" She holds out the ruby earring for Bellara to examine.
--------------------
DAY FOUR
Alessandra has minimal experience with cooking, but she did once pull a scam where she had to disguise as a chef... She tries to remember enough that she can manage something - she's guessing that standards aren't high.
She takes the opportunity to look around the kitchen - surely no one's going to be suspicious; she can always claim to be looking for another saucepan or something...
--------------------
DAY FOUR - EVENING
Temporarily giving up on exploring, Alessandra drinks enough grog to take away the pain from last night's flogging, but not so much that she gets drunk (normal ration).
Looking thoughtfully around, she spots Aretta, the woman who knocked her out the other morning. Not everyone's first choice perhaps, but Alessandra has some experience of conning people onto her side.
"That was a good punch you landed on me, fair play. But - are you sure you're on the right team? I mean, the guy who led you into it went down straight off, and your other 'friend' tried to drop you in it with Plugg... When I went down, my friends didn't run - if it had been you that dropped, d'you think Fipps would have stayed? Huh, my guess, he would have left you to it. You stayed, even when it went wrong. A girl's gotta respect that. I think you'd be better off with us. Have a think about it, Sweetie. No need to answer straight off."
Grinning slightly - she's still got it - the half-orc girl leaves Aretta to her thoughts and rejoins her friends.
After realizing that “taking 10” wouldn’t get it done for Shaeda today, I went ahead and did the STR roll and got a 17. I rolled a 15 on the CON check, so I won’t be fatigued.
Since I didn’t “work diligently” and I did a roll for pumping those damn bilges, it occurs to me that I can still do another daytime action, right? Well, I’m still stuck in the bilges, so the only thing to do is to search it again. I couldn’t afford to “shop” or “shirk” and there is no one to “influence,” so I’ve got the same options as yesterday, so what the heck eh?
In the evening I had said I would do the exploration thing in area A10 and got a 26 Perception and a 24 Stealth.
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Shaeda sits down with her chow next to Rogar, thanks him for the dagger he had given her, and slips him the masterwork dagger she found in the bilges today, "here my friend, this is likely worth a great deal. Mebbe you can see what you can get fer it, or maybe swap it for some of your things out of Grok."
Rogar stares at the dagger, then at Shaeda, and back again at the dagger. "Ah.. I've... So well made, must be dwarven make, this steel. Aww, lass, I've never had such a gift, yer far too kind fer this ol' battered dwarf". A warm smile appears on Rogar's face, as he slaps the halfling gently on the back.
The bard has been quiet the past couple days, which is unusual for someone usually as mouthy as he. His first day on the ship, though quite nauseous and tired, was an ample opportunity to prove that such things couldn't hamper his spirit. But more dampening than their taskmaster, or even their situation, is the monotony of being at sea.
Diego laments the loss of culture, the absence of variety, and the ever-present horizon of lolling waves and sweaty quarters. This is only one of the reasons he hates being at sea, but is enough to cast him into a shadow for the next couple passes of the sun.
This morning is different though...
He awoke with a haunting melody in his head and a smile on his face. He can't recall ever hearing the tune before, but this morning it's all he can hear... now words, just a somber hook that captivates his attention. He finds himself humming it all day, constantly catching himself doing so loudly though never conscious of when it began. It's a time to reflect, to bolster himself, spurred by the artistic melody that haunted his dreams.
Art may gravitate toward culture, but certainly nothing can contain it. In fact, creativity often thrives in environments without thriving cultures, as the mind strains against its confines and creates a reality wholly separate from the current reality. So rather than sink beneath the current waves, Diego ought to use this time craft that which can only be formed in adversity and deprivation. Today will be a new day... and tonight will be different.
-------------------
As evening comes, Diego is in higher spirits, and still humming Bellara's tune from the previous evening--though unaware of the source as he was slumbering at the time of her performance. Likewise, he has no knowledge of Alessandra's lashing the previous night, and has been solitary in his daily duties without ability to overhear any discussion of it. It leaves him blissfully ignorant of much that has recently transpired.
His current priorities are two-fold:
1) He wishes to recover Rosie's fiddle. He craves music, and this melody in his head won't go away. If only he knew where it came from as he's certainly not musical enough to have come up with it on his own.
2) Recover his own tools, his needles, swabs, and inks. Perhaps he can endear others on the ship who wish to make their bodies his canvas.
He wishes to recover Rosie's fiddle.
Would Diego be aware that Doc and Shaeda had acquired some items from the store?
When Alessandra collapses into sobbing, Bellara swiftly moves to her side, throwing a comforting arm around her. "There, there," she croons, smoothing down Alessandra's hair. "It's this ship, you know - it isn't you. They are too quick to punish by far. I daresay that Scourge up there doesn't believe in dangling a carrot. He is far too keen on using the stick." Bell remains beside the other girl, quietly stroking her hair or her back until the sobbing subsides. It's what she would have wanted for herself had she grown up with parents. Her lips twist in a wry smile.
Bellara looks over the trinket Alessandra hands over, the dim light showing nothing more than a pretty bauble. "'Tis a lovely piece, Alessandra. The red of that ruby would suit you well, though I doubt this ship would give us the opportunity to wear such pieces of jewelry. Well...maybe in the bilges when no one is looking, hmm?" She winks at the younger girl, attempting a small jest so uncharacteristic for the elegant Taldan. Still, something in Alessandra's vulnerability brought out a side of Bell she was unused to showing.
DAY FOUR
Daytime
The next day, Bellara works hard, though she keeps to herself. Narwhal and Maheem again. Since she didn't do so well with them last time, she was loathe to try again, focusing instead on the work on the ropes that needed to be done. The wind presented a challenge with the rope flapping about as she tried to perform her duties. When she gets a moment to herself, she wanders off to check out the outside of Plugg and Scourge's locked cabin, looking for anything that might seem like a trap.
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Nighttime
A day spent with two surly riggers didn't help Bellara's mood. After dinner, she decides to forgo singing and drinks more rum than usual. She doesn't stop until her fair cheeks pinken and she feels that pleasant glow within her stomach. Despite her decision not to sing, she hums in between downing the rum. She even raises her mug Diego's way when she catches him humming something familiar. "I see that tune has wormed its way into your head. We should try singing that together at some point since you seem quite taken with the melody. It's Halfling, you know," she says casually. "I'll teach you the words, if you'd like."
Bellara keeps drinking and watches Alessandra work on Aretta. After a while, she pushes off away from the table, her rum still firmly in hand. The bench she was on scrapes back against the planked floor. Bell then saunters lazily toward Fipps, the person whose attitude had been irking her since their ill-fated encounter. She slams her rum down hard onto his table and plunks herself down onto the seat next to him. Crossing her legs at the knee, the Taldan girl leans against the table edge, adopting a perfectly sedate pose but for that cold gleam in her eye as she turns toward the bald man. "My dear Fipps, I think it's about time you and I had a conversation. This attitude of yours isn't one that I care for at all. I'm sure you realize that things could go much more smoothly if people weren't at each other's throats all the time." Bellara notches her chin up, a confident gesture born of her noble upbringing. "You see those people over there?" she inclines her head gracefully at Shaeda, Diego, Doc and Alessandra. "They're more to me than just the new mates on this ship. In the short time we've been together, I would consider them friends, and we stand together. Now, you may have noticed that while we gain allies, you seem to be losing them." There's that subtle nod toward Aretta. "I would suggest that you choose to stand with us instead of against us, or you may just be left fighting us...
All. By. Yourself." The corner of Bell's mouth lifts until she wears a smirk.
She even raises her mug Diego's way when she catches him humming something familiar. "I see that tune has wormed its way into your head. We should try singing that together at some point since you seem quite taken with the melody. It's Halfling, you know," she says casually. "I'll teach you the words, if you'd like."
Diego raises a suspicious eyebrow, his ringed eyes betraying confusion before he realizes that he has been humming it aloud again. That moment of revelation is accentuated further when he realizes that Bellara recognizes the song. "You know what I was humming? he asks with a laugh, fully aware of the ridiculousness nature of such a question. "And I would love to learn words to something so enchanting. Truth be told I'm not sure whatever I have stuck in my head is really a song at all, let alone one with words. And it's very unlikely I would be familiar with a folk song of Halfling origin. But if you know of something that lines up with it then you have every ounce of my interest. I found myself humming it this morning, and haven't been able to rid myself of it. Though, if I'm to be honest, I haven't really desired to."
Then the man's eyes narrow, and he leans forward on his elbows as a curious smirk lifts the corners of his mouth. "Or, at the very least, could you hum the introduction to the chorus? The loop in my head begins at an awkward junction and could use some context."
Alessandra:
Alessandra manages to produce a decent meal although nothing to write home about, and even manages to rummage through some of the drawers and look behind some cabinets as she works. Startlingly she discovers, underneath a sack of flour, a prosthetic leg made of wood and edged with a silver band.
Diego:
Diego works hard all day, managing to complete his task, and remain relatively energetic when the bell rings to signal the end of the day.
Bell:
Bell easily completes her tasks at the top of the masts, and even manages to slip below decks to Plugg and Scourge’s cabin. Despite looking carefully, however, she is unable to see any trap on the door.
Doc:
Doc works hard all day, but, once again is caught out by Scourge when he pokes his head in the bilge. Right! Yer in fer it tonight! Bloody get back to work ya stumpy bastard!” is all he says before slamming the trapdoor closed.
Shaeda:
Shaeda, meanwhile, works well in the bilges, where she’s pumping the water out with all her strength when Plugg looks in. When she does get the chance to search the foul water again she manages to turn up 7 SP and 2 GP but nothing else.
Alessandra:
When Alessandra approaches Aretta, the other woman seems to tense, but listens carefully and, when you leave, she seems lost in thought. Around an hour later she staggers over, a little drunk and crouches next to you. ”There’s precious few on this ‘ere boat that’d look after each other like yer were sayin.” she whispers ”but if yer need back-up against any of them others ye just give me a whistle ‘eh?”
Bell:
When Bell gets the chance to assess the earing she is, unfortunately, unable to guess its value. When she confronts Fipps, the man seems to pale. ”Look.” he mutters, clearly a bit sacred. ”I don’t bloody like you, an’ you don’t bloody like me. Yeh? Well I’ll stay out’a yer way if ye stay out’a mine. Fair?”
Shaeda:
When you slip below deck and have a good look around you notice that one of the lockers has been left unlocked – Even better, it’s the one belonging to ‘Sly’ Lonnegan.
Doc:
When bloody hour comes you are hoisted to the mast by Jape and Shivikah. Scourge takes hiss place with a smile. ” This ‘ere bloody Dwarf thinks e’s better ‘an the rest’a you bastards.” he shouts above the wind. ”Thinks he doesn’t ‘ave t’ do any bloody work. Well today that bloody ENDS! Any of you bastards think’ve slakkin off know what ‘es in fer! It’s the bloody CAT fer ‘im! And let this be a bloody warning to the bloody rest of ye too!” with that he administers three lashes with the cat-o-nine-tails ( )
Diego:
I don’t think you posted an action?
Instead, the Taldan girl leans in closer to the tattooed man, blocking out the rest of the galley's occupants and quietly sings the words to the broken melody he was humming.
"Éist le mo chroí,
Go brónach a choích'
Tá mé caillte gan tú
's do bhean chéile.
An grá mór i do shaoil
Treoraí sé mé.
Bígí liomsa i gcónaí
Lá 's oích'.
Ag caoineadh ar an uaigneas mór
Na deora, go brónach
'Na gcodladh ins an uaigh ghlas chiúin
Faoi shuaimhneas, go domhain."
The words come out in a soft rush of breath that whispers across Diego's cheek. As close as she is to him, the power in her voice gives way to a huskier rendition, made lower by the rum in her system and her proximity to him. Bell moves back slightly once the song trails away, wearing a faint smile. "If you could only hear it the way I heard it the first time, with the skirl of pipes accompanying it. It was so haunting...so achingly sad and beautiful."
...
"The red of that ruby would suit you well, though I doubt this ship would give us the opportunity to wear such pieces of jewelry. Well...maybe in the bilges when no one is looking, hmm?"
Alessandra gives a wry smile: "I wasn't planning to wear it, sweetie - I was going to try and sell it to Grok. But I need to know how much it's worth..." The half-orc is the sort of rogue who gets paid to break in and kill people, rather than to break in and steal things, so she doesn't have experience in appraising items. She doesn't mention this to Bellara, thinking that she might not approve. Coloring slightly, she moves hastily on: "So... you mentioned a time and a place for us to have a talk - is this the time?"
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DAY FOUR - AFTERNOON
Alessandra grins at the prosthetic. Hope to never need , she thinks to herself. Might be valuable, though. She stashes it somewhere safe. Maybe time for one more look around? It's not as though anyone's keeping an eye on her...
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DAY FOUR - BLOODY HOUR
Alessandra looks on, frozen in horror, at Doc's punishment: suddenly her own pain and humiliation from the previous night are put brutally into context. Miraculously he's still breathing, but she's not sure what to do next. She lurks in the background and lets the others do what's needed.
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DAY FOUR - EVENING
Alessandra winks at Aretta. Thought she'd see it my way... "Got it," is all she says aloud.
The half-orc girl smiles, watching Bellara's technique on the unfortunate Fipps - that's the sort of confidence you have to be born to. She's never quite been able to emulate it. "Nicely done, My Lady." Alessandra cheekily drops a curtsy, with a lop-sided grin. "Wouldst thou have the wherewithal therewith to vouchsafe an appraisal of mine findings...?" Like any faker, the girl can talk the talk - but it's meant in a friendly way, not as mockery. "Seriously, though, I've found the weirdest thing..." She shows Bellara the prosthetic she found.
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Pride is something that Rogar drank away long time ago, so the humiliation of the flogging doesn’t sting him a bit. But pain the dwarf feels just like any other, and with each lash of the cat, Rogar grimaces in pain and sputters out a litany of curses in dwarven.
Once the torture is over, Rogar is left lying on the deck, having no will to get up.
They seem to be serious about this. They might really want to kill us off
Once things quiet down, Rogar finds a peaceful place and prepares and drinks a healing extract.
The alchemical drink works like a miracle, healing the wounds from the lash.
Rogar feels frustrated, angered. But anger is good, as it’s the only thing keeping the depression away. And depression would mean death, here on this ship. So Rogar keeps drinking, to pour fuel to the flames of anger.
As the evening turns to night, the intoxicated dwarf finds himself calmed, and sitting with “Barefoot” Sams Toppin.
”Ye’r one of them riggers, right? How it feels like bein' up there? Me, I made a bad start for me career up in the mast… Fell down the main mast, all the way, did ya see that? And now where they put me? Ha, bilges! As far from the sky as ye can get in this ship. Safe, but smells real bad… So tell ya what… Ya help me up the main mast, so I can stay there and let the wind blow the bloody stink off me. I’ll bring a bottle o’ grog t’ keep us entertained, I need yer help t’ get me down, too”, Doc says, winking.