"I'm no tactician. But I can do something similar - and smaller - to what Longfarthing did when we took this ship. With me swabbing decks, it would be easy to hide one end of the ship from the other, if that would help." He looks around for other ideas.
"Hmm. Possible, though any of them that have sailed with Harrigan for a length of time will be familiar with that tactic. Could still be useful. Anyone know who's on watch tonight?"
Without waiting for an answer, I begin sketching out the ship on a page from my journal.
"Our numbers are fairly even, but if we can catch them asleep, we may be able to keep them backed up in their cabins. We'd have to make sure that Masters Quinn and Toppins were on our side of the bottleneck, however. If we bring the fight out onto the deck, we may be able to turn the ballistae to our use, as well," I offer, circling the two gunnery stations on the aft of the Man's Promise.
"Leu?"
For his part, Eleuterio silently nods as his friends offer suggestions. "I do like the idea of keeping them separated, Master Cooper. I dislike moving about like a common sneakthief, but this is not the Fifth Crusade. This is far more personal, and should be fought as such. I'll not murder a man in his bed, but if we can surprise them at night, perhaps take them prisoner before they can mount a resistance, we can take the ship swiftly. I am a little worried about that Rahadoumi man, though. We know so little about him."
"I have one request," he said. "Plugg and Scourge have much to answer for, and I believe that Master Cooper and I have at least a pound of flesh between us to repay them for our trips to the mast. Leave those two to us. The rest...let the Pirate Queen herself decide whether they live or die, for I care not. They have plotted their course, now they must ride that tradewind where it takes them."
I rubbed the knot on my head as I considered my very strange predicament. I was conspiring mutiny! My head spun, and it was not solely from the rather vicious knock on my noggin. But while mutineers were usually depicted as the blackest of souls, what happened when the captains were similarly villainous. Could there be such a thing as a righteous mutiny? I must believe it so.
As much delight as it might be to sweep the decks of Plugg, Scourge, and all their cronies, I'm afraid I must interject at this point, I offered. We're still a skeleton crew, and need all the hands we can keep.
Might I suggest, we attempt to call out Plugg and Scourge and deal with them swiftly and surely. Perhaps then the rest of their scalawags would see which way the winds blow, and adjust their course.
"That only works if we have a sufficient show of force to convince them to follow us, but I think if we can cut the head - or heads - off this seasnake, we will find our task simpler."
Perhaps then the rest of their scalawags would see which way the winds blow, and adjust their course. [/b]
"Best way to show these bastards how the wind blows is to let them swing from a gibbet! We gave them a chance to make nice, Master de Poisson, and they answered with clenched fists and daggers in the dark. It is true that we'll be short-handed, but I'd rather take my chances with a hard-working crew I am proud to serve beside than to place our lives in front of a pack of jackals. We can offer quarter to any that asks until we reach Port Peril, but I'll be thrice-damned if I'll let them out of the brig."
"Port Peril?" says Tilly, surprised. "Why, because we want to go back under Harrigan's thumb again? I say we kill 'em and then do what Plugg's planning - go to Rickety's Squibs and claim this ship as our own."
"Why, because we want to go back under Harrigan's thumb again? "
"Fair point, Master Brackett," I acknowledge with a nod, "but that does completely put to sea Eleuterio's notion that we would be preventing a mutiny instead of committing one." Turning again the the paladin, [b]"How does that sit with Iomedae, Master Reis? Or with the rest of you?"/[b]
It was a fair question, and I put my best thought into it. After a moment of pondering, and musing on some of the actions my own heroic father had to take in his myriad adventures.
I do believe, I said at last, that much of the matter lies with who is telling the tale.
While we all fancy ourselves as the hero in our own story, it's our actions, and what lies in our hearts as what makes us truly heroic. Harrigan by his actions has cast himself as the villain in this adventure. The Man's Promise has been in his hands what, two, three nights? And then he entrusts her into the hands of other mutinous villains. Seems to me, Harrigan has lost this vessel already.
"If we keep it, and I'm not against the idea, what will we do with it?"
Eleuterio is silent for a moment, then speaks. "In for a copper, in for a plat, Master Cooper. If we raise arms against Plugg, then I doubt that black-hearted bastard Harrigan will see fit to reward us with anything other than a swift keelhauling like he did for poor Jakes Magpie. Besides, I never said we weren't mutinying, only that Plugg started it for us. No, it's either return to Port Peril and sail under his blood-soaked flag, or head to Rickety's Squibs and forge our own destinies, and I think I speak for all of us when I say that I will sooner die upon this deck than work another day under that butcher's lash. And I think our mission is clear from there - we chum the waters and feed Harrigan's lifeless corpse to the sharks." He pauses for a moment, feeling the heat in his cheeks. He clears his throat as he notices everyone staring at his sudden bloodthirst.
"One step at a time, though. We'll need to speak with Master Quinn to find out what miracles the Pirate Queen can provide. If it sounds good, then we move tonight. Otherwise, we wait a day. Master Kroop, how long until we make for Rickety's Squibs?"
Fishguts strokes his chin thoughtfully. "Ish mebbe fife daysh, 'fth'winsh ar' wi'ush," he replies. "Dunno fer shur wiv'ou' sheein' th'char'sh, though."
If it sounds good, then we move tonight. Otherwise, we wait a day."
"It may be best if we can get word to Quinn and Toppins tomorrow, and put things in motion once we do. It's true that there are benefits to working at night, but if we take the time to plan, daylight may offer us better favor."
"You're right, Master Cooper," Eleuterio says. "Tate or Japes will see us coming long before we make for the helm, and we'll have a fight upon our hands faster than gulls upon a whale carcass. They have the advantage at night, not us."
"They have the advantage at night, not us."
I think that leaves us adrift until morning, then. I'll probably be sent to the bilge again, so I am least likely to have a chance to get word to the others. Anyone want to volunteer? I figure we'll need someone from the swabs, and someone from the lines.
Of course, I shall likely be required to again take to the upper sails, so I can most certainly make those of our number amongst the rigging aware of these cunning plans. From there, I can announce our intentions across the deck. And there is nothing like the sound of my pistol to signal the commencement of the affair.
Eleuterio genuinely smiles at de Poisson's remark. "That it is, Master de Poisson. Just make sure you aim the bullet for one of their black hearts."
"I often see the lady of Besmara on the deck. But what should I tell her, exactly? To visit one of you, perhaps? The deck might not be the best place for such a discussion as this."
The following morning sees a tense air hanging over the Man's Promise. The memory of Mr. Plugg's savage beating of Evril seems to stand behind every shoulder, listen to every terse exchange of orders and status reports. What conversation the swabs and riggers sometimes held among themselves has been silenced, and the ship sails in an eerie quiet; only the wind has the courage to speak up, and there the gusts only serve to keep anyone else from speaking.
Finally, not long after noon, Chum has an opportunity to tell Sandara to seek out Eleuterio or Evril belowdecks. She chooses Evril, and appears at the top of the bilge ladder much as she did two days before. "Chum said you wanted to talk to me?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.
It was an uneasy night, I can tell you. Sleep took a long time in coming, and I had fretful thoughts of Plugg or Scourge and their men bursting in letting us know that our intentions were known and we were to be run up the mast, or keel hauled, or some other unpleasantness. I also wondered about my father, and what he might think about my upcoming actions. I felt that he would approve, as my destiny should not fall to be a mere rigger for such uncouth and foul gents as Mr. Plugg or Master Scourge. I mean, surely he would have no qualms about foiling such black-hearted rogues as they while upon his ship. I would have to do the same, even though in my current predicament I lacked a ship with which to assail his. Thus, I had no choice.
My mind whirled about with these thoughts until sleep finally took me, and morning arrived in short order. I was above decks as usual, though I felt the weight of my pistol upon my hip keenly, and I had to resist the urge to keep checking its shot. No doubt, its time would come soon enough.
"Chum said you wanted to talk to me?" she asks, raising an eyebrow.
"Looks like Plugg is making for Rickety's Squibs for a make-over rather than following Harrigan to Port Peril. We've decided to make sure Plugg and his gang of psychopaths aren't in control of the Man's Promise when she leaves port. I know you're game for it, but figured you'd want to know before we start the fight. Am I right? Are you in?"
"You were right," Sandara grins. It's not a pleasant expression. "I am in. And I'll have Besmara's blessings with us too."
In the stories, events sort of happen. Just as when we had sighted our prize vessel -- the very vessel I stood upon, as a matter of fact -- upon the horizon and had to wait hour after agonizing hour, our impending mutiny sort of remained... impending.
I doubted the reasons for the delay had anything to do with reluctance or cowardice. Instead, it just needed a moment. Something to happen to make it feel right. As long as our chores and daily tasks remained mundane, we lacked the spark which would cast us into action.
Perhaps it was not always like it was in the stories. Sometimes, one must make one's own dramatic spark.
When I saw Plugg upon the deck, I dropped down from the rigging to within easy range. Sparing a brief thought to the lady Grok and her tears at our departure, I added a dose of the enchanted oil upon my pistol in preparation. Then I cleared my throat.
Mister Plugg! I announced in a clear and ringing tone that no doubt caught the attention of everyone above decks. Hopefully, this distraction would allow everyone to get into their places.
I couldn't help but notice that our heading seems to be astray. You are very far from your master in these waters. Far enough away, I believe, that you might have lost sight of his orders. Not that it matters. Disobeying that black-hearted villain would ordinarily be something of which I would approve. But you, Plugg, you overestimate yourself. You have lost your master, which leaves you nothing but your toadies and lickspittles. And they will avail you naught.
I leveled my pistol at his heart and squeezed the trigger.
"You were right," Sandara grins. It's not a pleasant expression. "I am in. And I'll have Besmara's blessings with us too."
"Well, hopefully we're more the type of pirates she's looking after, then," I reply with a wink. "Here's the plan: once everything is ready, Master de Poisson will fire-"
**KRACKOW**
"By The Vault! Let's GO!" I shout, practically shoving the priestess up the ladder ahead of me.
Hearing Artevious begin his speech, Chum tries to move to a good location for his Obscuring Mist without being in line with the romantic pirate's expected shot.
Plugg's eyes widen as Artevious levels the pistol, but he cannot move away in time, and the bullet slams into his shoulder with a spray of blood. At the same time, a smiling Rosie Cusswell slips up behind Scourge and slashes at his hamstring with her axe.
Even caught off-gaurd, though, he twists away from the blow, and she lets loose with a torrent of frustrated profanity.
The next hours after their decision to mutiny were torturous. Eleuterio had almost given up listening for the retort of Artevious' pistol, but hearing it brought a grim smile to his face. "At last," he said, removing the apron that hung around his neck and moving out into the hall. "Let justice be done."
"So it's mutiny then!" roars Plugg. "I should have known you'd turn on me like this - I should've slit your throats when I first laid eyes on you! Well, it's not too late to make up for lost time!" He pulls out his cutlass and cat-o'-nine-tails, cracking the cat once before stepping forward and slashing at Artevious. He doesn't commit himself fully to the attack, though - he leaves himself room to move or parry with the whip.
The slash is brutal, and Artevious realizes he is fighting for his life.
Get any prayers you need sorted, Sandara. I'm going after Scourge."
Up on the deck, Conchobhar grabs some nearby rigging and pulls himself up into it, singing a stirring shanty as he goes.
Rise up, me hearties, hey!
Rise up, yo ho!
Rise up, me hearties, hey!
Rise up, yo ho!
Sail with me on the wayward sea
Ta th'devil's teeth and on for aye!
There's gold to claim in th'devil's name
And the sea winds ne'er say die, say die!
Sandara pounds toward the main deck right on Evril's heels.
Scourge turns toward Rosie, fury darkening his countenance, and grabs for the punching dagger he keeps in his boot. With an enraged howl, he stabs down toward the halfling with it, simultaneously calling, "Rally ta me, ye worthless rotbrained sea dogs! Ta me!"
The dagger catches the halfling in her shoulder, cutting her deep and drawing a cry of pain from her. The wound turns an ugly, vicious green-purple color almost at once. Despite the reaction, though, Rosie seems to suffer no ill effect beyond the wound itself, and her face twists into a mask of rage not unlike Scourge's own.
Seeing that he's too far from the center of the ship for the mist to be very helpful, Chum draws his cudgel and enchants it before moving to the middle of the deck to threaten the sailor .
Seeing an opportunity, the allied sailor steps over to take advantage of a flank and attacks.
The allied sailors on the port side move to engage their erstwhile allies.
Owlbear steps up behind Plugg, a length of his own chain swinging in his hands as he lies up a shot on the erstwhile first mate. Plugg dances away from Owlbear's attack, and the chain slams into the deck.
Crimson lines up an attack on the sailor next to him, waiting until his nearby ally can distract his target before taking a swing.
Fishguts follows right behind Eleuterio, his trusty frying pan in hand.
With shouts of fury, your allies leap to the fray, hacking and slashing at those they recently called fellows.
Two of the sailors fall outright, and a third is badly wounded. The rest, though, respond in kind, cutlasses flashing in the late morning sunlight.
Cogward and two of the other sailors take wounds from the exchange, but they all fight on.
"Hopefully they save a bit of Scourge for us, Master Quinn. Let's get up there!"
Fetch me my brown trousers, I thought idly as Mr. Plugg cut me but good. The fracas was underway, with everyone taking sides, drawing steel, and letting blood. I felt the best course of action would be to let Owlbear occupy Plugg a few more moments while I loaded another shot into my pistol. I stepped away from the erstwhile captain to do just that.
Taking in the swift-changing tide of the battle, Chum points to the sailor before him . "Aid Crimson!"
Stepping around the sailor fleeing the flank , the half-elf says, "Switching sides might be in your best interest, friend. I may not be a great fighter, but I'm not alone."
Belying his words, he swings at the man with his enchanted cudgel.
The ally nearby moves to engage, fighting around the corner rather than giving the man an easy shot.
Another portside ally moves to attack the nearest foe, leaving Scourge for a better fighter.
The other portside allies have a foe within reach, and have at them gleefully.
Fetch me my brown trousers, I thought idly as Mr. Plugg cut me but good. The fracas was underway, with everyone taking sides, drawing steel, and letting blood. I felt the best course of action would be to let Owlbear occupy Plugg a few more moments while I loaded another shot into my pistol. I stepped away from the erstwhile captain to do just that.
Blinking as the dank quarters belowdecks gives way to the brightness of daylight, Eleuterio scans the chaos on the main decks. He straightens to his full height as he spies Scourge facing down Rosie, and calls out to the black-hearted bastard. "Scourge!", he yells, advancing towards the man. "You've a great deal to answer for, monster. This is the price you pay for your unrepentant sadistic ways." He raises his scimitar into the air, the light gleaming off the shining blade, and lowers it with a slash towards his side. Though it no longer reflects the sun, the blade seems to carry a brightness it did not have before.
5' to L6, which I believe puts me flanking Scourge with Rosie. Smite evil on the bastard.
Unfortunately, loading my pistol would have to wait. The enemies amassed around me made such a task frightfully risky at the moment, so I drew my rapier and responded to Plugg's cut with one of my own.
Eleuterio calls upon Iomedae's justice and slashes toward Scourge, but it is the rollicking sound of Conchobhar's shanty that drives the blade home. Scourge hisses in pain, and he reaches for his axe to reply in kind.
Likewise, Artevious' swordwork benefits from both Conchobhar's song and Owlbear's distractions; even in Plugg's defensive stance, the cavalier's rapier finds its way into Plugg's flesh. Plugg shouts in anger and surprise as he is wounded a second time.
Chum's magically-enhanced club breaks the arm of the sailor he's attacking, although the pirate does not quite manage to fall. She does start looking for an exit, however.
Plugg snarls his fury at Artevious and puts cutlass and cat both to work.
Again, Plugg's cutlass is brutal in its efficiency; Artevious sees blood everywhere, and only has time to realize it is his own when the cat catches him in the face and sends him spinning down into darkness.
Scourge turns his attention to the paladin who just struck him, tossing aside the punch dagger and instead drawing a handaxe. He gestures toward the spot behind Eleuterio, looking at one of the pirates nearby, and it is clear he intends to see the paladin surrounded before he's beaten down.
Crimson turns his blade on the pirate nearest him, slashing with reckless abandon. With a single slice, Crimson cuts the man's head from his body, and smiles.
Rosie makes another attempt to put her handaxe to use, this time taking advantage of the distraction provided by Eleuterio's presence and Conchobhar's inspirational singing. The tactic works, and Rosie chops through one of Scourge's hamstrings.
In the rigging, Conchobhar reaches the lowest yardarm of the foresail, wraps his legs around it as though he were a child sitting on a fallen log, and readies his shortbow, singing all the while.
Sandara continues following Evril through the lower decks, but Fishguts appears at the top of the ladder right behind Eleuterio. He looks around, sees Scourge, and shouts across the deck: "Shtep ova' thar! Ikin 'it 'im 'fye moof!"
Your pirate allies, seeing that they have so far had the upper hand against your foes, press their advantage.
Four of the six enemy pirates fall to the onslaught.
As soon as Fishguts sees Scourge distracted by the sailor behind him, the massive cook takes a swing with the frying pan in his hand, trying to unceremoniously brain the bosun. Even attacking over the ladder railing as he is, Fishguts proves as effective with his pan as he has ever been in the galley - the clang of the pan hitting Scourge's skull echoes across the length of the Man's Promise's deck.
Seeing Artevious fall, Owlbear shouts "YOU ARE A BAD MAN!" at Plugg and tries to hit him with the chain again. Unfortunately, Plugg sidesteps again, leaving Owlbear flailing uselessly.
The two remaining pirates allied with Plugg and Scourge press their attacks, still hoping to turn the battle around.
Neither does anything worth mentioning, however.
... clang of the pan hitting Scourge's skull echoes across the length of the Man's Promise's deck.
*CLANG!*
"Heh. Go get'em, Fishguts."
"You are nearly alone on the deck. Your allies are falling left and right. Drop your blade and sail another day." Chum gives her a moment to make a decision before pressing his attack.