Do you have a name monkey?
Scourge indicates a number of messages to be sent and where to go and sends Hassan off with a wave to bring him back replies and be ready to run more message and items about the ship for the rest of the day.
Hassan flits about to and fro across the ship, delivering messages here and there, always with a smile and effusive praise for whomever he is speaking with at the time.
Throughout the day as he travels here and there he sings some of the traditional sailing songs that he learned in the east, in Kelish and Osiriani (taking special note to see who around him recognizes the songs or the words), and encouraging his fellow sailors to sing along.
"My parents gave to me the name Ajani. If you care to know, the meaning of it in your tongue is 'He who wins the struggle'." he answers. He doesn't look to Mr. Plugg while responding, but simply gazes out over the deck toward the horizon.
Fjori relaxes as much as he can, taking most of the strain off his arms. He watches the crew and how they interact with each other, noting who is toadying up to the officers, who is shirking their work, and finally anyone who looks like they might still have a spark of rebellion in them. He also tests the strength of the rope that binds him to the mast.
Profession Sailor
Influence Cog Diplomacy
Perception
Mel looks Scourge straight in the eye.."You might find I'm tougher than I look Bosun" she states then sets to the work trying to engage Cog in conversation.By the end off the watch the ropes and sails are almost pristine and Cog seems to be coming around to the 'Lad' whose selection of wild and outlandish Varisian tales of death and destruction seem to strike a chord with the man.
Bart gives Plugg a look of complete and utter indifference before shrugging and making his way up the rigging. I suppose there're worse places I could end up in the morning than as a rigger on a pirate ship.
:
As Bart begins to climb, he realizes that the pounding headache he had when first awoken had, despite what his earlier madness might have led him to believe, not vanished. As he climbs the robes, he feels the blood pounding in his ears, and almost falls as a wave of nausea washes over him. Fortunately, being the stubborn sort he is, Bart manages to hang on to the ropes and manages his way up to the gnome. What did Plugg say his name was? Conch-Shell? Bart eyes the gnome, evaluating his worth whist going about his appointed tasks.
:
:
As Hassan smiles and sings his way back and forth across the ship carrying messages here and there (praise be onto the many gods of sea and sky who have brought about this fine day for sailing), he searches for a moment when he is unnoticed.
Standing on the poop deck, and thinking that he is unobserved for a moment, Hassan casts a spell, attempting to pass it off as another part of his Qadirian sailing chant to anyone who might have noticed him.
@Ajani
Well Ajani it so happens I have seen another like you. Before taking up with Good Captain Harrigan I had cause to be at a feastday in the Hurricane King's court, a rare honor for one such as myself. Plugg takes up a position next to Ajani and looks out at the water too. A Vanara was present as an entertainer. Oh he was a slave, made to dress in vest and cap and made to turn the handle of an organ grinder in its own hands and dance. It juggled. It did tricks. It obeyed and it got the meager scraps it deserved.
Plugg turns to Ajani a look of complete contempt in his eyes. You will get the meager scraps you deserve monkey or ou will get to spend quality time with my man Scourge. We are not friends. We are not equals. I order. You follow. I spare you the cat in this moment because I am awed by your brazen stupifdity or bravey, I care little which it is. Now we are done here...unless I have not made myself clear?
Plugg looks Ajani up and down with obvious distaste, eyebrows raised looking for an answer.
@Quillin
Grok seems to almost take delight at the sight of Quillin moving too and fro about the galley, goats bleeting, Fishguts snoring and Smudge offering all sorts of "advice". With bemusement she watches as the gnome moves about and seems so entranced by the activity that she begins to offer helpful "look outs" and "ah ah ah" as various animals make their way away from where they should be or pots look to teem over with their contents.
At one point the surly dwarf from before enters the room and Grok lets out a Tell Plugg his damn food and everyone elses is set to be ready just fine. The dwarf mumbles a Yessir and Grok grumbles salt drenched knob
Like numbers on a ledger or accounts in a column the recipes and fixins just seems to line up right for Quillin and he can rest assured that at least his first day as cook will go over well. Not to mention he seems to have amused Quartmaster Grok which has to be worth something.
@Mel
The mending work is child's play and is barely worth the young "man's" notice. Cog on the other hand is a harder nut to crack but some properly applied tales of death and the macabre seems to strike a chord with the man who stays quiet throughout the shift. While certainly not the best of friends, Cog ends the work together with a good story and takes his leave, leaving Mel with the distinct impression that she might have some decent traction to have turned a likely enemy into a timely friend if her luck with him holds.
@Bart
The gnome seems...sorta hostile to be honest. Maybe not HOSTILE like some of the guys on this ship but certainly no interest in being friends. (He is good on the rigging though)
@Hassan
Your efforts to flit about the ship go smoothly enough though the persistent close calls with the large dark skinned man off the officer's stairs lead to some hair raising moments. (Is he coverd in...feathers? The light is not great in that space).
The song is catchy enough and a few verses break out ere and there but not to the point where a performance can keep momentum without Hassan's prodding.
Seeing a moment to sow some chaos Hassan uses his song to get a good line of sight on Fjori and cast a "rope trick" spell. For his sense of confidence at being clever however Hassan is greeted with a shocking revelation when he trns to find a short muscular halflinf woman wearing a critical eye staring at him. On her belt is a fine axe and around her neck is a deep red scarf. She eyes Hassan up and down for a moment and then smirks.
I don't care much for Scourge so I won't go tellin on you for now. But I could use a mage to help me with a problem. You owe me a favor. You find me after dark.
With a sharp shoulder against Hassan's thigh as she passes by the little woman leaves little to reply to.
Quillin samples his work and smiles, "Not too bad. You want a bowl, Grok? You might way I'm a wizard in the kitchen."
Smudge makes a vomiting sounds in response to the joke.
"Say Grok, how long you been on this ship? What's it like? Harrigan seems a bit overly fond of cats, no?"
know local about the good captain
"Say Grok, you know what happened to our gear? I had some tasty recipes in that little book of mine. It seems to have gone missing during our 'embarkation'."
Fjori feels the bonds loosen around his arms as the rope suddenly seems to untie itself. He looks around, and only sees some halfling woman talking to the dark skinned fellow that was press ganged with him. Knowing how discipline works onboard a ship, Fjori knows that he still has to stand for punishment, but he will be damned if he does not use this 'incident' to his advantage. He continues to 'look' tied to the mast, waiting for an appropriate moment to act.
@Fjori
From here the ship is available to see and Fjori does get a singularly complete look at the ship and its crew. His ropes bound tight the northman has little to do with his time but watch the crew bustle about and after a couple of hours Fjori is fairly certain he has seen just about every crew member there is, save for officer types and his new friend the gnome.
At one point after the noon hour has come and gone Fjori feels his ropes go suddenly slack. The crew bustles about unawares though Fjori does note that the Keleshite from this morning has a short exchange with a a halfling which is the first time he has slowed down all day.
@Quillin
Harrigan is "known" to you, as in you know the name and you know he has a ship. Otherwise he certainly isn't someone you remember to be especially noteworthy.
Grok enthusiastically takes any food offered her and is quite audible in her pleasure that the food tastes, well, like food. Though she does offer a laudable lament that what she wants, more than anything, is something to drink that ain't rum, rum, or rum.
To Quillin's initial inquiry she indifferently offers Awhile and The cap'ns all right its more his Mate that likes the cat so much. She offer this final point with a sort of shrug.
As the day wears on and Quillin looks to ask after gear Grok actually perks up slightly at the gnome and leans forward over her counter door. See'in as all I have is the captain's goods to barter and sell I wouldn't know anything about anything tha's yours. Now it may just be the cap'n has things that are like things that mighta been yours...but that is really an issue between you, me and the weight of your purse. Grok, who is tall but exceptionally thin built offers a prolific and toothy smile that seems almost scary on her piercing and scar riddled face.
I think he will wait until the crew is brought together for his punishment, then will shake the ropes off and hand them to the mate. He will then remove his shirt and prepare for the lash. He just wants them to be surprised that he got out of his bonds, and could have, at any time, done something. If it looks like someone might discover his ruse early, he will smile and sit at the base of the mast until the mate or officer come to collect him. I want the crew to see that someone can stand up to the officers and that he is willing to take the punishment, but not bend to them. I hope this does not cause too much difficulty, or gets me killed..lol
The work done Mel will spend some time observing the crew trying to spot if Scourge and Plugg have any cronies they show favour too...
Perception
Ajani draws in a deep breath at Plugg's reply, his eyes slightly narrowing at the mention of one of his brethren kept as some sort of pet by the Hurricane King...not something he is liable to forget soon. He tries to hide this disturbance from Mr. Plugg, but in all likelihood his feelings on the matter are not difficult to perceive. He doesn't return the man's gaze, though, only still staring out to sea.
"Crystal...sir." he answers, then turns to move away from Mr. Plugg, deciding that he was the sort of person that an old tale from his tribe spoke of...a person like a bowl that was kept deliberately very clean and orderly on the outside while the inside was rotten and evil.
His work for the day done, he walks for a few minutes on the deck, waiting for Mr. Plugg's attention to be elsewhere before going to the mast where Fjori is tied, staring at the large Ulfen man for a few moments before he speaks in a whisper,"I am told you are called...a Nord, was it? I am of the Vanara...given the name of Ajani. In the tongue of your people it means 'He who wins the struggle'. I am of the mind that allies are precious on this voyage, given our captors seem not disposed to being friendly. What say you, Nord? Seek you allies?"
He waits to hear Fjori's response before leaving the area; in either case, he gives simply a curt nod, though if the large Nord answers in the affirmative there appears in his eyes a look of eager excitement. He then walks away, headed to one side of the ship to gaze out at the ocean once more.
Fjori is slightly surprised to see the , what were they called, Vanara, sneak towards him. After he had spoken, Fjori gives a brief smile and nods his head. He also wiggles his fingers, showing his new ally that he is not actually tied up. In a whisper he says, "I think the dark skinned fella somehow did it. Maybe another ally? Go quickly and say nothing..I will take my punishment in stride." He hangs his head once again, looking through his long amber hair as the Vanara departs.
Hassan Al-Quorri grins and bows with a small flourish. "I am at your service, most noble and blessed of all mistresses," he calls after her, quickly getting back to his task before anyone else takes notice of his activities.
Bart helps the gnome on the rigging. For the most part Bart doesn't speak much to the gnome, only aiding him at his tasks. He seems to know what he's doing, and doesn't appear to be in the mood for conversation. Bart's kind of man.
:
Quillin sighs. "Aye, I'd be interested in buying a book quite a bit like the one I lost, but my purse is tragically light at the moment. I don't know when I'll be seeing any coin either. Is there anything you might be willing to barter for? Fishguts must have a bit of something more than rum stashed away, no?"
Mel continues to watch and wait.
@Bart: Bart's day with the gnome seemingly gets worse and worse. Whatever the small man has on his mind the lack of talking turns to almost outright hostility with roughly shoved tools, sarcastic excuse me's and just a general foul demeanor. Shocking too as the two of you seem to work efficiently and easily complete all of your tasks.
@Quillin: Grok rolls her eyes at the gnome, If he had anything else he drank it long ago. As to barter...you find me something special for my gut I would barter that. Anything of proper value, weapons, treasure jewelry. We come across a treasure or board another ship you'll have plunder fer sure...until then... Grok offers another lazy shrug as she pulls a mug from behind her counter door. As she starts to pour her drinks it looks like meal time might be soon when Mr. Plugg enters the galley.
Looking about Plugg seems slightly shocked but soon composes himself. Looking to Quillin and Grok the Mate mutters, Bloody Hour and turns on his boots. Grok coughs gently and motions Quillin to follow the Mate to the deck.
@Everyone The bell of the clock rings and Scourge yells Assemble you curs, its Bloody Hour. Dusk settles on the ship and the Captain along with a passel of other figures that are most likely officers, assemble on the poop deck. Quillin, Grok and a dangerously listing Fishguts make their way to the main deck with the rest of the crew..
[ooc]I'll pause here for any final beats folks have. Otherwise I will post Bloody Hour narration (including Fjori's punishment) in the morning.
Ajani returns to the deck of the ship at the ringing of the bell, walking across the deck to stand close enough to the mast Fjori is tied to that he won't miss any of what happens to the Ulfen. He draws in a slow, deep breath, having made up his mind that if he ever intended to fight against their captors, he needed to see the atrocities that these villains enacted on the ship's crew.
Fjori is tied to the mizzenmast off the poop deck. Ajani is shooed off the deck back onto the main deck as only officers are allowed on the poop when Harrigan is present (and he is on his way). Its no problem for Ajani to get a front row seat on the main however.
Looking to Quillin and Grok the Mate mutters, Bloody Hour and turns on his boots. Grok coughs gently and motions Quillin to follow the Mate to the deck.
Smudge croaks appreciatively when he hears the B-word. "Come along, ya short necked vulture," Quillin calls and the parrot finds a perch in the matted blue dreadlocks.
Up on deck, Smudge screams excitedly following Scourge. "Bloody Bones! Bloody Bones!"
Fjori will wait until they come to lash him, then will turn and throw the rope at whoever's feet and say, "As I told you. I have been a sailor since my 13th winter. Knots are nothing to me." He will then remove his shirt, folding it neatly and setting it aside. He then turns, showing all the many scars on his back.
"As I have said, I know how ships work, and I know when to take my punishment. I stand ready for your judgement, captain."
He will try not to show any emotion during the lashing, and will thank the individual once completed. Basically he wants the captain and officers to be shown in the worst possible light, in the hope of winning some of the crew over...if possible.
Mel hangs out at the back of the crowd..she doesn't really want to watch this.
Hassan assembles with the rest of the crew, quietly for once.
Captain Harrigan and his officers, which include a handful of men and women of various make-ups, gather on the poop deck (a barely conscious Fishguts and Grok are included in this group) while the rest of the crew is gathered about the main deck with some of the riggers opting to remain in the ropes for better views. Master Scourge approaches Fjori as Plugg orders a pair of the crew below on some task related to the proceedings.
As Scourge approaches Fjori the northman steps forward off the mizzenmast and allows the rope to fall at Scourge's feet. The Nord speaks loudly so the assembled crew can hear him,As I told you. I have been a sailor since my 13th winter. Knots are nothing to me. Scourge steps back agape a moment and looks back to Plugg who has an obvious patch of crimson climbing his neck and up his smoothly shorn head. As the captain looks on with a neutral expression the Mate seems conscious of the implications of his situation and keeps an even tempo to his voice, Escort the crewman to the lashing post.
As Scourge moves to grab at Fjori the northman again takes action to counter the boatswain. Stepping first off the poop and onto the main the large Nord carefully takes off his shirt as he approaches the main mast where tongs of leather have been attached for the lashed to be tied to, As I have said, I know how ships work, and I know when to take my punishment. I stand ready for your judgement, captain. Fjori's back, a riddle of scars old and new, are evident for the crew to see. Placing his shirt aside the mast Fjori puts his arms forward and allows himself to be tied by Scourge, careful to look the man straight in the face. Scourge seems barely able to contain his anger at the calm compliance this newcomer is giving him.
Properly tied, Scourge stands behind Fjori and allows his whip to unfurl. Looking to Plugg the boatswain looks on as the smooth headed Mate speaks loudly and clearly, For insubordination, three lashes. Scourge nods and grins widely, gold teeth glinting in the setting sun as he pulls back the whip and strikes Fjori counting as he goes. One...Two...Three...
After the last lash there is a pause and then a murmur from the ranks as Sourge brings the whip up and strikes Fjori again calling the number as he goes, Four! Mr. Plugg seems unperturbed but offers an incredibly inaudible Master Scourge.. The whip lashes out again, Five! and again Plugg offers a slightly more audible Master Scourge.
As Scourge pulls back and lashes out again, Six! Plugg offer a slightly more full throated Master Scourge but it is the captain who bellows out Plugg! Control your DOG! from behind the Mate at which point Plugg, not looking back and unable to keep a slight smile from creeping onto his face calls out, My apologies captain. Scourge sometimes is too enthusiastic in his work! to which an obviously excitable Scourge follows with Beggin your pardon cap'n I thought I heard thirteen not three. My mistake. Laughter breaks in some of the ranks and it is easy to get a sense who might be for or against the boatswain in that single moment.
As though to make good on his mistake Scourge approaches the Nord and approches the mast to untie him. Quiet enough not to be heard updeck but certainly easy to hear within the ranks on the main deck Scourge leans to Fjori as he unties him Obvious you havnt learned enough. and release the ties. Sandra Quinn moves forward from the group to offer Fjori a shoulder up and to pull him back amongst the crowd if he wants.
Meanwhile a pair of sailors bring up a bedraggled human man somewhere in his twenties with bad teeth and more than a few bruises. As the sailors and Scourge work to tie the man's feet to a length of rope hooked to a side rung Plugg sounds out from the poop, Jakes Magpie you have confessed to thievery from the Captain Harrigan's stores and you repeat offenses on other counts are known. You have proven yourself to be a criminal true and no pirate worth keeping his skin. Your punishment is to keelhaul on the Wormwood hull. Plugg offers a dismissive wave and Jakes is sent into the drink with the rope passing behind him. As the man is let loose Plugg himself comes down off the poop to attend to the rope and met out the punishment.
Over the next minute or so the man is allowed to go out on the line the is pulled in and then let back out. Even from the deck it is easy to hear Jakes thump along the hull as Wormwood moves on its destination. Finally Jakes, or what is left of him, is brought back on the deck to remain until after mealtime as a "reminder" of what good keelhaulin does to a man.
Harrigan yells from the top of the bridge, Illuminatin as always Mr. Plugg. I want full stop and anchor then its time for food, ration and a spot of rest. Harrigan turns with most of his officers to descend to his cabin while Grok and Fishguts make their way below decks to look after serving the meal. Grok gestures for Quillin to follow and the rest of you are ordered to wrap up the deck and pull the sails and drop anchor for full stop.
Though he does a decent job of concealing it, watching what has gone on has shaken Ajani to his core. He's heard many stories of what the bad pirates are like, of course, but the scars born by Fjori...now with several more to add to the number...and the treatment of the other prisoner.
He'd read much of pirates in the years since Captain Saladeen had rescued him and knew all the stories, the horrors they were capable of..but somehow they'd never sunk in. Captain Saladeen had not been that sort of man; far from it. Seeing the way this ship was run, though, really made all the stories of how bad most pirates were sink in for Ajani.
He helped get everything ready for the full stop the captain had ordered, trying to lose himself in the work in a futile effort to make himself forget the things he'd just seen.
He focuses on recalling the faces of those in the crowd around him, trying his best to recall the people who were standing around watching "Bloody Hour" with him. Already he knows that he cannot abide a perpetual existence living in the shadow of these humans, but he's not so foolish as to believe he could stage a mutiny on his own. He needs friends and allies. It may be that there are others on board who are willing to help.
He suddenly realizes, though, that he is completely without a holy symbol through which he can channel his magic. The events of the day, combined with it being the first time he was without a focus in many years, made it totally slip his mind. A fool I am for letting so important slip by me. First things first, then...without a focus, my spells are less than useless. I must find something that will serve that purpose, even if it is not my own. After that I will try to find allies for myself, beginning with those who were with me when I woke this morning.
Hassan watches the proceedings of the bloody hour with a heavy heart and an impassive face, while watching the crowd for those he might count among his many great friends, and those savage sons of dogs who delight in the bloodshed—a thousand curses on their black hearts, for seven and seven generations.
When all is said and done, Hassan throws himself to work bringing the ship to a stop, tidying the deck and making ready for evening meal. As he goes about the work, Hassen quietly looks about the deck, marking the locations of those he was brought aboard with. The little blond boy already expressed a mislike of the first mate, and the... Vanara? He seems a gentle sort. His dexterity would be of great help in any endeavor. The gnome and the Chelaxian he had little sense of, but the Northman was obviously a rebellious lout—the only trick would be getting him to keep quiet and play the diligent scut until a plan could be put into motion.
Hassan chuckles to himself as he coiled a length of rope. This Mr. Plugg—that scurvy jackel!—was no different than the fat merchants who strolled down the streets flanked by a dozen guards, or the priests who preached charity from their high seats, while still wearing their silks and jewels: the one with the most to lose always has the most to fear. The only question would be how best to stoke that fear? The trick with the Ulfen's rope was a good start, and he'd done well with his end of it, but Hassan would have to be more subtle in the future. The halfling woman smelled of danger, and she could get him in a lot of trouble, if he was not careful.
Fjori tries not to lean too much on the woman's shoulder; not from any bravado, but for fear that his weight will send them both sprawling to the deck, and he most certainly did not wish to jar his back. 13 strokes!! That lout will pay for his attempted humor, Fjori swore to himself. But for now...the light was growing dim, almost to a pinpoint! He needed to sit down, before he fell down. He hopes that it is not too much further.
Bart's face masks his sour displeasure at the events unfolding below him. Fortunately he was up on the rigging, or Plugg or one of his cronies might've taken offense to his displeasure at the evening's entertainment. He had warned the guy though. Sighing to himself, Bart begins to pull up the sails. Though he was sore and the little orc in his head had only slowed its tempo, he didn't much feel like sleeping. After his experiences with the Wormwood so far, Bart visibly shudders at the thought of what its food must be like.
As he finishes his duties, Bart looks across at Conchshell. That was his name right? Something like that. Pompous little sot. There is no way he is a sailor. His clothes give him away faster than his demeanor. He had to have been press-ganged as well. Bart has always hated people like him. Nose-upturned dandies who like to pretend to be swashbucklers. I'll buckle his swashes if he keeps that attitude up much longer.
Quillin sighs as he's once again called to work after so brief a respite. He appreciated the northerner's spirit, but that kind of stupidity was only going to get him battered and bloody like the wreck left on the deck.
Calling in Smudge who is becoming a nuisance by making meowing noises and nipping at stray rope, Quillin hops to the next task.
Mel's face set like stone as Scourge overdid the flogging.The man was a bulliy and she had had enough experience of bullies to make her sure that given the chance she would deal with the Bosun.But now was not the time she needed allies, people she could..well not trust exactly but whose agenda ran on the same course.
The keel-hauling saw her fighting to keepthe gorge from rising in her throat.Face pale and breath shuddering she moved over towards the Woman supporting the barely concious Nord.
"Need any help with him Ma'am" she asks
While Bart, Hassan and Ajani do their various tasks Quinn nods at Mel's offer of aid and works with the young lad to get Fjori situated so he is sitting nd leaning forward for the fire haired woman can look at his injuries. Murmuring to herself she grips her amulet again and touch Fjori's back closing much of the damage. She murmurs a second time and Mel feels her fatigue was away as the cleric channels the energy of her goddess to finish work on Fjori's injuries. Properly restored, Quinn gets Fjori to his feet and motions with her hand, Best we help with the all stop unless we be punished for dallying. She then leaves to move about the deck and aid with the work.
Quillin descends below as he overhears Grok getting Fishguts up to speed about Quillin's activities. As the three enter the galley they are greeted by a young willowy girl who seems to be picking the best items off the table and loading them up on a tray. She gives the group a cursory gaze and dramatically gives the food a good smell. Looking up from the table the girl has an inquisitive look and Quillin can see Grok motion with a thumb towards him in response. The girl nods and mumbles a Cap'n 'll be pleased before scurrying off with the tray.
The next few minutes through out the ship are chaotic as everyone wraps up their work. One of the deck grates is released and a rope platform lowered so food and casks of rum can be raised up for meal time and ration. Once everything is in place most of the officer types make their way to the captain's cabin while Grok, Fishguts and everyone else stay topside to eat and drink.
Though Scourge lurks about the deck occasionally, Plugg is elsewhere and afte a while Scourge ends up with his own group leaving all of you the chance to finally move about get some food and get some rest.
Feeling better than he has since he awoke this morning, Fjori thanks both Quinn and Mel for their assistance. He quickly gets up and completes the actions needed for a deckhand to prepare the ship for evening.
That evening, he eats his meal and takes his cup of rum away from the others, to sit quietly by himself. He stealthily dribbles the rum through a small knothole in the gunnels.
That evening Fjori go to the dark skinned man who he thinks loosened his bonds and thanks him quietly.
"You have a gift that may come in hand in the near future. Do not fear, I will now be the model sailor, but will be looking for my payback. Are you willing to help me?"
Ajani resumes his place in the rigging, following the same orders he'd been given earlier that morning.
Ajani frowns at his work, having done...something...that leaves the rigging obviously in a way it isn't supposed to be. He realizes he has a great deal to learn about really working on a ship and he can't continue expecting to excel when in the ropes. His only hope, for the moment, is that neither Plugg nor Scourge notice his mistake in the rigging.
He climbs swiftly up into the crow's nest when his job is done, both to observe and (hopefully) further avoid the notice of those in a position of superiority over him.
Once the Wormwood is anchored down, he scampers down to receive his rations for the evening meal, then returns to the crow's nest to "enjoy" the food, though after taking one sip of the rum, he barely manages to hold back a cough. There is no logical reason to serve crew mates drink this strong unless they want people to be a bit muddled...which, given the taskmasters over the crewmen, seemed a likely consideration. As such, he did his best to stealthily drip most of his rum out of the cup, hoping to avoid notice given how high above everyone else he is.
Once his shift is over, Ajani hops out of the crew's nest, deciding that he first needs to either recover his old divine focus or find a new one. Imagining the best place to start being the stores, he heads below-decks to try and find the quartermaster and see if he can barter for a seashell or some other symbol of the world beneath the waves.
Making the best of the meager fair he is offered—blessings be unto the gods, that he still can eat in these times of want—Hassan does his best to ingratiate himself to the crew, cracking jokes and making toasts.
After a bit of carousing, Hassan stands wobbly to his feet. "Excuse me m-my brothers. I must go and see a m-m-man about a camel." He makes his way to the aft deck to have a piss and clear his head.
On his way back, he nearly plows directly into the large northman, who steadies him with one meaty hand, and whispers in his ear, "You have a gift that may come in hand in the near future. Do not fear, I will now be the model sailor, but will be looking for my payback. Are you willing to help me?"
Hassan respondes in a hushed tone, "I have many gifts, my excellent good friend, a thousand and one noble praises to my ancestors that it is so. It is a dangerous life that we lead, here upon the sea. Why, accidents with ropes—such as what happened with your bonds—might occur at any time. A man, like our good friend Mr. Plugg, could find himself inadvertently struck by a swinging yard arm, and tossed into the sea, or we might all awake one morning to find him hanging by his neck from the mizzenmast, and none would be to blame. Let us pray that the gods are good, and that each man upon this ship receive just that fate that is due to him."
He gives Fjori a grin and a wink. Let us then be as brothers, and keep no secrets between us of these dangers, so that if one should present itself no one should be harmed... except perhaps, he who the gods have deemed worthy of harm."
With that he pats the Ulfen on the shoulder, and makes his way back to the main deck, to look for Rosie Cusswell, and see what penance she has in store for him.
Quillin samples the local hooch as he eyeballs the gathering.
fort
That evening, he hangs out with Fishguts and Grok. "Hey Grok, we did OK today. You know I've got a little experience dealing with inventory and what not. I'm sure I'll have my hands full as Fishgut's helper, but if you need any assistance I'd be glad to lend a hand."
From the scuttlebutt she's picked up during the day Mel decides that working on the Quartermaster to get her kit back is her best option.
To that end she begins to spin a tale regarding the ugly fate of the last person to steal the blade she bears
Perform Orate
She then approaches Grok and tries to make friendly overtures
Diplomacy as Influence
As for her rum ration she finds a secluded spot on the deck close to the scuppers and the evil drink disappears into the ocean soon afterwards.
Fjori and Hassan have their momentary interlude as the slighty to the sheets sorcerer moves on to find the halfling from earlier in the day.
Meanwhile Grok and Fishguts become quite the celebrity pair as Quillin, Mel and eventually Ajani all make their way to hang out and carouse with the cook and quartermaster.
To Quillin the half orc grins her toothy/tusky grin and shakes the gnome a little too hard. I might need help or just entertainment! You are funny and I like you! Most of her other commentary is lost in garbled orcish but the quartermaster has seemingly taken a liking to the blue dreaded gnome.
As Mel tells her story Grok is listless in her seat but appears enraptured despite the fidgeting. Eager to bark out in a laugh or offer a few colorful swear words to enhance the action Grok seems to also take to the young lad. While making no overt mention of her wares Mel gets a strong impression that engaging the quartermaster in more sober times will prove more fruitful then it once would have.
Hassan comes across Rosie talking to the small gnomish buccaneer who gives a sort of sour look as Rosie asks for a moment alone with the newcomer. Despite the irritation the gnome leaves and Rosie turns to Hassan with her hands on her hips, So seeing as I know you do fancy magic with those hands of yours you are gonna help me out! She presses her pointed finger into Hassan's hip for emphasis. I got a fiddle that has been mine since I was a little girl. Stupid Quartermaster won't give it back to me even though its obviously mine, has my name on it and everything. The halfling gives a pensive thought for a moment, May be that I buried my ax into her counter in frustration but whats mine is mine! You use your magic to get it back or I let the secret out you are casting spells and causing trouble! Her hands return to her hip as she gives Hassan a defiant stare.
Diplomacy: