Riaris can't help but shake her head at the failures and shortcomings of the newest members of the crew. It was shameful, really, but she had other things to do that didn't involve watching these swabs drench themselves over and over. At least two made it up.
"Alright, you f!+$ing useless pieces of shit. Row us in. Suppose you'll just find yourselves in the bellies of the sharks come boarding time," she says with a sneer. Despite the harsh words, it wasn't stained with the same hatred that Plugg and Scourge tended to hold towards the party. More like a permanent anger that was directed no where and everywhere.
Once the little boat was bumping back against the Wormwood, the remainder of the party are lowered down a rope ladder to climb up, while Riaris simply sits in the jolly boat while it's hauled up, still muttering angrily about the failures.
You all spend the rest of the day pumping out the bilges as punishment, even Cueta and Artevious who had actually been successful. The rat seems more than happy to see you, and appears to be fattening up. Apparently somewhere between the spoiled grain and the snacks you've occasionally brought it, it's gotten a little healthier than it had been.
Later that evening during the bloody hour, Harmony, Gall, and Esmarelda are subjected to six rope bashes each, much to the pleasure of Plugg who was to administer them.
During their time in the bilges, Gall takes some time to pet the thoroughly ill rat in an effort to calm his temper. It works, to an extent, but he does still do his work alongside the others as he stews in silent, black anger. Once dinner and the evening proper rolls around, he elects to make for a change of pace. This time, he approaches Mila with a smile and a hushed request.
"Sorry to bother ye, lass, as I'm sure ye've had a rough day. Just wonderin' if ye might spare a bit of time to take a look at a friend of mine. See, the lad's got himself a bit of sickness and I ain't rightly certain what's wrong with him." He offers a sheepish smile when he admits that, but quickly goes on. "I'd take him to the Stichman, but I don't want the gent sawin' his leg off or nothin' for no good reason. I'll owe ye one if ye do me the favor and look over the lad."
If she accepts, he will lead her down to their little hiding place for their rat friend. Hopefully the woman can diagnose what is wrong with the poor creature better than any of the rest of the group.
Harmony accepts her rope lashes with winces and cries of pain, shying away from the rest of the crew afterwards until she's fixed up her appearance some. Rejoining the throngs sometime later in the evening, she looks up Gall to report what she found out about Rosie's preferences, namely that she doesn't seem to have much of an opinion on Gall yet, not knowing him well. "You'll also want to act like you have a brain around her -- if you know stuff, feel free to show it off a little, although don't overdo it of course -- no one likes a smart guy. And don't show interest in other girls, that turns her off right quick." She makes sure that she and Gall have as much privacy as can be obtained on board the ship when she relays this information, finding a secluded corner if possible. If Gall already has tattoos, Harmony says, "You'll also want to not cover up your tattoos. Show them off, she likes that stuff. Assuming of course they have any quality to them, not just some drunken scribblings." Or if Gall doesn't have any tattoos, then she instead says, "You may also want to look into getting some tattoos. I hear that sort of stuff impresses her. As long as it's good, of course."
Stomach growling at Harmony's talk of tea, Cueta shouts back. "I dunno what a crumpet is, but I'll eat anything once! It don't sound like Harrigan's style though!"
She spends the rest of the trip back to the boat imagining what sort of animal a crumpet could be - probably a fat ratlike creature, Cueta decides, with tasty legs and skin that can be fried crispy, with a satisfying crunch to the bite.
----------------
Cueta scowls as she's assigned, yet again, to the bilges. My second home. The deckhand makes a point of decidedly not working, and urging the others to do the same. "Lashings are coming, no matter what. You know it."
As she leaves the bilges at the end of the day, Cueta grabs the set of keys she's pilfered and pockets them. At dinner she steals her mug. Later on, in the dead of night when everyone is asleep, Cueta sneaks over to the door that leads up to the officer's cabin from belowdecks, and quietly asks Besmara for an invocation of light into the bottom of her pilfered mug. Quickly pressing the mug against the door, trapping the light between the mug and the door, Cueta lifts an edge so that just the tiniest ray of light escapes. Slowly, methodically, the deckhand goes over every inch of the door, using the lighted mug as a makeshift torch. She's especially careful in examining the door's lock, looking for any sign of a trap.
If she finds none, Cueta slides each key into the door and turns it, hoping to find a key that unlocks the door.
She has no plans to explore any more tonight, and regardless of what she finds, Cueta makes leaves the door as she finds it and heads back down to the bilges to stow the keys in her hiding spot, before heading to her cot for a few hours of sleep.
Esmarelda couldn't help but give a heavy sigh as she made her way down to the bilges. Yet once she got there she joined Gall in petting on the group's little mascot. "It looks like you're getting healthier Geach!" She said joyfully before she looked over to her friends. "Oh I never got around to tell you all did I? I want to call him Geach if everyone is okay with that. I know Cueta is on board with it!" She told them as she smiled and pet their bilge rat.
Mila looks gravely concerned at the concept. "I haven't seen anyone who looked out of sorts. Well, any more out of sorts than usual I mean," she adds as Jape saunters by with his usual scowl. But she doesn't ask any more questions, assuming that he's got a secret of sorts if Gall's using a quiet voice, and gladly follows him.
"...You adopted a pet rat?" she says with a raised brow. She clearly has some concerns about the thing, but takes a look anyways.
"Looks like its an old wound that got infected and has swollen with puss. Infection did some serious damage in there." She takes a rag that had been hooked over her belt, douses it with water, and starts to wipe away at it. With a just a touch of pressure a little spot starts oozing. "Oh that's nasty. It'll need cleaned before I can tell you anything else. It'll take you more than a couple days to get it cleaned out proper," she says patting Gall on the back and handing him the rag. Clearly, she doesn't intend to be the one to do just that.
Cueta's clandestine romp about the ship certainly could have been quieter. More than a few creaks, groans, and thunks came at the result of her movements, though oddly enough no one seemed to have spotted her. Or, at least no one stopped her.
Aside from the heart-stopping noises she made that likely echoed through her own skull, the trip to the infamous door proved to be uneventful. The door looked like any other on the Wormwood and the knob and lock looked like it matched one of the three keys on the ring. Even after Cueta's scrutinizing search, nothing seems out of the ordinary. The key slips easily into the lock and when turned makes an almost inaudible click, suggesting it has unlocked the door.
By the blessings of Besmara, Cueta manages to find her way back to her hammock unscathed. Of course, she's given up a large chunk of sleep for her efforts.
Nighttime Action: Influence Conchobhar Shortstone
Harmony has had some uncomfortable dreams about the gnomish ladies' man, and perhaps partially to straighten out her head, she spends some time chatting to him, trying to get to know him. As it turns out, it may not be one of her best efforts; maybe she is a little rattled by the dreams, or maybe she's just distracted by the stinging pain in her back from today's lashings. "...so do you find that you need to compensate much?"
Cueta wakes, tired but happy. She's got entrance to the officers' quarters, is pretty sure no one saw her, and Besmara willing, won't be in the bilges today. Also, Geach seems to be doing pretty well. Well, as well as a brain-damaged, rotten-food eating, festering wound-having animal can be.
Yep, Cueta's pretty sure today's going to be a good day.
Again, the abuse my comrades suffered beneath the hands of our taskmasters thoroughly deflated what would otherwise have been a jolly occasion. Though I wished to turn my head and ignore their punishments for failing to climb the rope, I watched, feeling sympathetic pangs of my own. I knew the tide would turn, and our fortunes would rise. But I just had to wonder when.
During my daytime efforts, I had managed to discuss the finer points of piracy with Aretta Bansion. I had taken an interest in learning how she came to be upon the Wormwood and what her plans would be if she were not sailing under Harrigan's flag.
I struck up a similar conversation with Shivkah the day after that, noting that I had yet to truly make her acquaintance. I had heard that she had something of a sordid past, but sometimes those sorts of backstories made for the most compelling characters. I suggested such to her when we spoke.
And finally, I simply had to get my last volume back from Owlbear. I had dithered just a bit, trying to find the right time, but I simply had to move. The night after my resounding success upon the ropes assailing the Wormwood, I paid the large man a visit.
"Ahoy and hello, sir! Artevious de Poisson, at your service." I doffed my hat with a bow. "It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, since I hadn't had the chance until now. I wonder if you had heard of me? I happen to be the scion of the infamous Captain Ricardo de Poisson, whose myriad adventures had been immortalized in a series of novels. I myself have a copy of each of those novels save one -- which I now believe to be in your possession. Might there be some means of exchange we can arrange so that the accounting of my father's legacy might be returned to his heir?"
"Compensate?" Shortstone repeated inquisitively. "For what?" He seems to legitimately not understand the reference, or is far too confident to think such comments would ever apply to him, suggesting such a need. "Do you ever feel such a need? I might boast myself to be quite the therapist should you find yourself needing to open up about such things. I've got quite a way with words you see. I assure you I'd never tell a soul what you said either!"
Aretta gives a snort. "Here on my own will," she explains. Got me outta the whore house. Good pay, when you find a ship. And now I share my bed with the fellows of my own choice--- Say, you got any plans later this week? I have an opening on my pillow coming up this weekend,"[/b] she adds with a hearty laugh. Hard to tell if she's sincere or kidding.
The next day is about as expected, and once again routine settles in on the Wormwood. The officers are crabby and the ocean if blue. The sky looks a little gloomy and rain patters of and on throughout the next few days with occasional breaks of blue sky.
low = inebriated
low = inebriated
low = inebriated
Besmara threw back her head and laughed. "Didn't you hear? I sent a Kraken after Cayden!"
Besmara sets to work ruining sailors' days by sending sea monster after them as punishment for not giving up the booty.
Besmara sneaks up on deck to disable the trap on the Captian's door.
And indeed it is a good day. Cueta spends the day sprinting from place to place, delivering messages, getting plenty of exercise and sunshine.
All the exertion was perhaps too much. Combined with sun, Cueta is quite drained by the time dinnertime comes. The deckhand eats two hearty helpings of Gall's cooking and heads to bed.
------------
Waking refreshed, Cueta heads abovedecks, and is given a great chore - catching rats! Taking her dagger, Cueta scours the decks, killing rats and stuffing them in a sack.
As she drops the fourth dead rat into her sack, Cueta has an idea. She briefly considers going below decks and grabbing Geach, and letting him loose in the officer's cabin with Jakes' locket tied around the rat's neck. That would cause a stir! Shrugging the idea off, Cueta goes back to her chores. Esmarelda seems too attached to the little bugger for Cueta to send it to its death.
Cueta stands on a barrel and clears her throat, determined this time to tell a riveting tale. It is, of course, predictably awful. As soon as she starts speaking, the nerves set in, and before she's through the first set-up, Cueta's returned to her chair, sulking, jeered off of her impromptu stage.
It appears no one wants to hear a story about large ghost rats that live in the crow's nest and crap cranberries.
------------
More message running, and that's ok with Cueta - at least it ain't the bilges. She takes her time today and paces herself, and isn't so tired come dinnertime.
That night, Cueta grabs a bucket of grog and slams it, along with two shot glasses, onto a nearby table. "Whose gonna step up to the pail? This shot glass 's got your name on it, and your gold's got my name on it, suckers! Ha!"
Once again, Cueta has trouble holding her liquor. Odds are she's sleeping under a table again...
Listening with rapt attention to Harmony's suggestions as she reports back, Gall nods right along. "Can't say as I got any tattoos, though I reckon that lad Jack could scrawl me up a few. Seems he's a fine hand when it comes to artistry and whatnot. I seen the way he whittles them scrimshaws he does and they're nothin' to turn yer nose up at. Thank ye kindly for doin' this for me, lass. I'll owe ye one for it. And don't be shy 'bout callin' that favor in if there's something ye need, aye?"
At Mila's suggestion, Gall gives a slightly vexed frown as he takes the rag back from the cleric. This will be a vile task, but it could be far worse. And seems fitting for the way that today has been going. So, he thanks her for her help and advice before settling down with "Geach" to try to relieve some of the pressure of the rat's wound. Anyone who stops by the bilges or meanders close enough to the entrance will likely hear him telling the rat all manner of tales that are just as fanciful as they are poorly told. When he said that he does not have the gift of gab as Harmony does, apparently he was not kidding.
Cook's Mate Task: 1d6 ⇒ 6
Fishguts’ Sobriety: 1d2 ⇒ 2 low = inebriated
Special Occasion: Captain Harrigan is celebrating something today, and wants one of the ship’s pigs butchered and cooked for dinner. DC10 Profession(cook) or Survival to slaughter the animal and prepare the carcass
After some less-than-favorable tasks the past few days, Gall is simply glad to be back in the kitchen with a sober Fishguts. Sure, drunk Fishguts is fun to pal around with, but very little ends up getting done. And what does get done is left entirely on the half-giant's broad shoulders. Not that he minds, this way just makes things significantly easier. While he sets to butchering the pig, he takes frequent breaks to poke around the middle decks amid all of the cargo they have. Just in case there is something interesting to be found. Especially if it is some form of booze. Everybody loves booze.
After dinner rolls around, Gall decides that he cannot in good conscience leave their furry friend in such a state any longer. Rather than gamble, partake of any pirate games, or carouse with the crew, he heads down to the bilges again to devote a greater deal of time to trying to help Geach get better. He does tell his friends where he is going before he goes, but the evening passes in much the same way as the night before. This time, the tales that he tells the dire rat seem to be ghost stories. And for all his talk of being a shite story teller, he always does voices for each of the characters in his tales. Probably because he thinks the only one that can hear him is the rat.
Cook's Mate Task: 1d6 ⇒ 2
Fishguts’ Sobriety: 1d2 ⇒ 2 low = inebriated
Cooking: Assisting Ambrose Kroop in preparing the day’s meal. DC10 Profession(cook) or Intelligence check
Lo and behold, Fishguts is again sober. Gall cannot help but wonder what has gotten into the old cook that has him in such high spirits. So between portions of assisting with the cooking, he makes a point to chat with the cook. "If ye don't mind my sayin' so, mate, yer a wee bit of a drunk. Now, I appreciate me a good drink, as well, but what manner of woes have ye drownin' yer sorrows so often?"
After two nights of taking care of the ailing dire rat, Gall elects to take an evening off from the dirty work. He goes through the usual motions of feeding Geach after their own dinner and then heads over to have a chat with Rosie. If he finds her participating in all manner of piratical games, he makes a point to bet a few gold pieces on her. Naturally, he cheers her on during her attempts. "After the lass trounced me in a bit o' arm-wrestlin', I reckon she'll show ye bilge rats what for!"
If she is not busy, he settles in to get to know the woman a bit better. "So, where ye from, lass? Been on the seas all yer life or was this more of an odd turn o' fate for ye? I imagine a lass like yerself has all manner of scars and whatnot. What kinda tale goes along with 'em?"
Cook's Mate Task: 1d6 ⇒ 6
Fishguts’ Sobriety: 1d2 ⇒ 2 low = inebriated
Special Occasion: Captain Harrigan is celebrating something today, and wants one of the ship’s pigs butchered and cooked for dinner. DC10 Profession(cook) or Survival to slaughter the animal and prepare the carcass
In yet another bizarre turn of events, Fishguts manages to stay sober for three days in a row! Gall greets him warmly when he steps into the kitchen and sets to work helping the man get a feast ready. He talks idly with the cook about any number of things like whether dogs can look up and what the biggest fish he has ever seen is and how he got his nickname. Between helping the cook though, he does take a bit of time to step into the quartermaster's shop and chat with Grok.
"Hello, lass. I've got somethin' that ye might be a wee bit interested in takin' off me hands. There's this right fine dagger that I got, but I've got no need for. Masterwork, ye see. Ye think it might be worth a spot of gold to ye?" He settles the masterwork dagger in her hands so that she might look it over, in the meantime.
Esmarelda tried to strike up a conversation with Shivkah. But after a few short words in she found they had nothing in common and conversation gave way so silence. "I'll just... leave you be..." She said as she walked off.
While running about for the day, Esmarelda made time to stop in at Grok's shop. "Hey Grok! Can you do me a favor?" She asked as she walked up to her, digging a platinum coin out. "Would you be willing to exchange this for gold and then one of those gold ones for silvers?" She asked.
That night Esmarelda turned in long before anyone else.
Getting ordered to repair the sails once again brought out a heavy sigh from Esmarelda. Though it seemed Esmarelda learned a thing or two from her many fails, for this time she did rather well.
"Jack!" Esmarelda said joyfully as she walked up to him. "You said five silvers right?" She said as she held out the coins.
The following day Esmarelda spent her time splicing ropes then placing them where they belonged. All the time she worked she hummed a playful tune, a smile on her face.
That night Esmarelda sat down alongside Mr. Tibs. "So, Giffer Tibs, did you join the ship willingly or did you get press ganged as well?" She asked.
Daytime Action: Work Diligently
Daytime Action: Work Diligently
Daytime Action: Work Diligently
For the first two days of this grouping, Harmony manages to barely stay on top of her duties by working diligently, but on the third day even that doesn't save her, as she perhaps begins succumbing to some level of exhaustion under all the constant work. The ratcatching doesn't go well, and she is well under quota despite her best efforts. "Rats!" Despite all the hard work, however, she has a little bit of time to work on influencing some of the crew members during the evenings. She focuses on those that she perceives as being relatively in the middle, not well disposed, but not solidly in Scourge and Plugg's camp either.
Nighttime Action: Influence Shivkah
Nighttime Action: Influence Aretta Bansion
Nighttime Action: Influence Giffer Tibs
On the first night, she has a bit of a chat with Shivkah, the Mwangi ex-slaver that she has approached previously, but Harmony feels, at least on her side, that she doesn't get as even as good traction as she did last time. She chats a bit about the moral principles of slavery and press ganging, and comes to think that maybe if there is a third time she approaches Shivkah, she could try to work on some more neutral topics of discussion. On the second night, she shares some of her food with Aretta Bansion, the big-eared harlot, and Harmony subjectively feels that this encounter goes much better, perhaps because of her own family background. They have a lengthy talk and a laugh over some of the more common customer types, some of them funny, some of them dangerous, and some more than a little bit sad. And during the third and final night, she spends some time with Giffer Tibs, getting some perspective on what it's like to be a shorter person on ships built for bigger people.
Aretta gives a snort. "Here on my own will," she explains. "Got me outta the whore house. Good pay, when you find a ship. And now I share my bed with the fellows of my own choice--- Say, you got any plans later this week? I have an opening on my pillow coming up this weekend," she adds with a hearty laugh. Hard to tell if she's sincere or kidding.
I responded quickly and with a knowing look in my eye. "Why, milady, I would expect one as fetching as you would have her ledger full for months in advance, and have them lined up from stem to stern!" With that, I took her hand and kissed it lightly before stepping away with a wink.
The following day I spent again working the mainsail, the heavy duty work that commonly left me quite winded at the end of the day.
Thankfully, however, my stout constitution left me with plenty of energy for the rest of the evening.
That evening, I desired to again entertain the crew with the thrilling tales of my father's adventures. I selected one of my favorite volumes, entitled The Uncharted Territories.
I began with the novel's opening:
"My name is Ricardo de Poisson. A pirate. A tidal wave hit and I got shot through a whirlpool. Now I'm lost on some distant part of Golarion on a ship, an animated ship, full of strange living beings. Is there anybody out there who can here me? I'm being hunted by an insane military commander. I'm doing everything I can. I'm just looking for a way home.
The next day, I had to again climb to the upper rigging and do the regular maintenance and repair work on the sails.
The next day, entailed more rigging work in the sails. I must say, I was wondering how long this routine would last, lest my pirate adventure stall out.
Cueta's performance falls flat, though Ratline for some reason seems to really enjoy it. Odd fellow.
"I'll take ya on, lass--- ?! Is she under the table already?"
Cog quietly pockets Cueta's 5 gold she placed on the table.
Gall manages to spot the trap on the door that leads up into the Captain's cabin. It looks intricate and very well hidden!
"Ya'd be drunk, too, if ya lost yar own freedom in a bet! Captain might as well own me, eh? Unpayable debt, as it were."
"I been on ship my whole life!" Rosie boasts. "And I ain't got no scares 'cause nothin'll touch me as to leave one! Toughest broad on the seas!" It's clearly a lie, you can see a scar on her right arm, but hell, she likes to spin tall tales!
"I'll give ya 151gp for it. Fairest price, scouts honor!" Gall would indeed recognize this as the common going rate for a used masterwork dagger.
"O'Course. Let me just count it out here..." Grok easily makes the change for Esmarelda.
"Aye, 5sp. I can get to work on your piece right away, lass! Pen right? It'll take me a couple days, but I promise quality!"
"Press ganged?! Maybe. I can't well remember. Sometimes I dream I was taken by force, but I can't rightfully recall if that's the truth or not!" explains Giffer with enthusiasm.
The conversation with Shivkah is pleasant idle chatter. She certainly doesn't find moral dilemma in slavery, that's for sure.
Harmony has Aretta laughing herself into stitches as they recall old memories of clients. She loves reminiscing with someone familiar with her old line of work it would seem!
"Short? Dunno what you're talkin' about. I got two inches on Shortstone! Never had a trouble with it in me life!" An odd claim, as you've seen him use a stool to get up into the higher storage areas a human wouldn't even have to tip-toe to reach!
Shivkah admits she'd consider going back into the slave trade, but probably in Cheliax working with slips. You notice she's careful to whisper about the idea when she spots Rosie working nearby.
The performance is as well received as always, with folks cheering and jeering at all the right spots!
Owlbear thinks long and hard about it, clutching the book like a prize. "...You read to Owlbear? I give book, you read. Show Owlbear words. Owlbear learn to read. See?" He cracks open the book and very slowly sounds out the first few words of a random chapter. He gets some of it wrong, but it's clear he's making effort to learn his letters! "You read some evening. Owlbear give book back." It's easy to figure out he just wants you to read with him a couple nights a week. It shouldn't take any time and he seems excited about the idea of being reading buddies.
During dinner, Gall makes a point to mention quietly to Cueta that there is a fairly well hidden trap on the door to the captain's room. Or at least, the trapdoor up there from the middle deck. Either way, it is valuable information given that the woman has been sneaking around quite a bit. Afterwards, he heads off to see if he can do a bit more work trying to woo Rosie. This time, he does his best to steer the topic more toward things he knows a bit about. Like geography and bizarre beasts of the seas and all manner of the natural world. Or at least, the parts of these things that he is at least a bit familiar with.
Cueta slaps Gall on the back. "Good on ya, Gall. I've got something to show you."
Taking Gall belowdecks, all the way down to the bilges, Cueta pops the board off of her hiding place and jangles the stolen set of keys. "Lifted them a few days back. Been waiting for the opportunity to go creeping about the officer's cabin. Let me know if you want to get into a bit of mischief!"
"Naw, I ain't near to sneaky enough for that, lass. Lookit the size of me. Reckon I'd clock my head on the door frame on the way in," he replies with an idle chuckle as he eyes the stolen keys. "But... Y'know, if yer keen on continuin' yer hauntings, I'm sure I could get ye a fair batch o' blood next time we go 'bout slaughterin' a pig. I know it'd give a lad like me the willies to wake up and find meself covered in blood."
Cueta's jaw drops, and she stands there, for a few seconds, completely stupified, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, gasping for air.
"That's... that's... fookin' brilliant, mate! I'll take it!"
I was somewhat taken aback by the Owlbear's proposal, though I couldn't rightly fault him. He was clearly unlearned, but likely through no fault of his own. And when he sought to better himself with my mother's prose, I simply could not refuse.
"Jolly good!" I responded with gusto. "It would be both a pleasure and an honor."
I strolled the deck after taking care of the day's work and finishing the evening repast. I observed the games of skill and chance, and waved off the encouragements to participate and lay a wager on the outcome. "No, lads and ladies, I only gamble with my life, never with my money," I told them, repeating one of my father's mantras.
Thinking of my father, it occurred to me that Riaris Krine's lessons had been sorely lacking in panache. I commented to a few of the more able-bodied souls on the ship, who would no doubt be part of the inevitable boarding actions when we finally came upon a prize worth seizing.
"While I suppose there is something to be said for learning to shimmy up a rope from a launch, I must say that Riaris left out a vital part of the act of boarding another ship. That being, the act of swinging from the yardarm across the yawning gulf and onto the deck of the enemy vessel!"
I promptly demonstrated my own prowess, taking one of the lines from the rigging and swinging out far over the ocean, where our imaginary ship might be.
"That's how it's done, lads!" I shouted as I swung back to the deck.
It's a good thing that Harmony is not aware of what Gall and Cueta are talking about, because she tends for rather more caution than that. While the two of them plot, and Artevious showboats for the crew, Harmony decides to check up on Esmarelda, pulling the younger woman aside at some suitable point for a little talk. "How are you doing, lass?" She chats about typical small talk topics for a while -- today's assignments, today's weather, other crew members...well, that last one then starts segueing into a particular topic. "So I was wondering, what are your thoughts on...size difference? Because you know, I've heard a lot of people say how halflings are like kids, and being intimate with them is kind of sick in the head", she taps the side of her head with a finger. "Even if they're fully adult. They still *look*, you know...from our racial perspective. Unless they have a moustache or something, I guess. Does that make a difference?" Is she talking about herself, someone else, or just in general terms?
"Not to mention *all* the sorts of practical problems...I mean how to show up to a ball if your date is half your height. It just doesn't look good, now does it? Or they wear your shirt in the morning and turns out it drags the floor."
Rigging Repair: The ship’s rigging frequently gets damaged and must be repaired. Two DC10 Climb checks to reach the rigger 30ft up, and a DC10 Profession(sailor) or Dexterity check
Line Work: Hard work hoisting and lowering sails. DC10 Profession(sailor) or Dexterity check, and a DC10 Constitution check to avoid fatigue
Upper Rigging Work: Work in the upper rigging. Three DC10 Climb checks to reach the rigging 50ft up, and a DC10 Profession(sailor) or Dexterity check
Rope Work: Handling the ship’s ropes, including coiling them, stowing them, and securing them to cleats and single and double bollards. DC10 Profession(sailor) or Dexterity check
Lookout: A climb to the crow’s nest to keep a keen eye out. Four DC10 climb checks to reach the crow's nest 60ft up, and a DC10 Perception check
Mainsail Duties: Tough work raising and lowering the mainsail. DC10 Profession(sailor) or Strength check, and DC10 Constitution to avoid fatigue
Cooking: Assisting Ambrose Kroop in preparing the day’s meal. DC10 Profession(cook) or Intelligence check
Fishing: Catching tonight’s supper using the ship’s nets. DC10 Profession(fisherman) or Survival check
Turtle Hunting: Hunting leatherback sea turtles with harpoons, treble hooks, and nets. DC10 Profession(fisherman) or Survival
Bull Session: Drinking with Ambrose Kroop and listening to his stories
Special Occasion: Captain Harrigan is celebrating something today, and wants one of the ship’s pigs butchered and cooked for dinner. DC10 Profession(cook) or Survival to slaughter the animal and prepare the carcass
Man the Bilges: Vile and sweaty work cleaning out the bilges. DC12 Strength, and DC10 Constitution to avoid fatigue
Rat Catcher: Catching rats and other vermin below decks. DC10 Stealth, Survival, or Dexterity check
Swab the Decks: Backbreaking work mopping the decks and scrubbing them with sandstone blocks called holystones. DC10 Strength or Constitution check, failure of either results in fatigue
Hauling Rope and Knot Work: Tying and untying knots in the ship’s ropes and moving heavy coils of rope from one part of the ship to another. DC10 Profession(sailor) or Strength, and DC10 Constitution to avoid fatigue
Runner: Passing messages to the crew and officers of the Wormwood in all parts of the ship except officers’ cabins. DC10 Acrobatics, and DC10 Constitution to avoid fatigue
Repairs: Things constantly tear or break aboard the ship and need repairs, whether sewing sails or splicing rope all day. DC10 Profession(sailor) or Dexterity check
~ ~ ~
As the day starts to come to a close, it's quite apparent that the crew members almost appear to be functioning themselves apart. There are those who you've befriended, and those who seem more eager to please Plugg and Scourge. It's definitely a touch odd...
Cueta whistles, low and loud, and Artevious swings around the deck and back, one handed, the other waving his cutlass in a flashy display.
Clapping, Cueta guffaws as the nascent pirate's boots hit the deck, and he doffs his hat. "Aye, you're a right fookin' bloody beautiful man, Arty, graceful like a beg-assed fluffy white swan of death! Well done, mate!"
Again, simile was never Cueta's strong suit.
The next morning was not ideal.
Plugg and Scourge seemed to take a certain amount of pleasure from handing out the tasks today, putting each of you in a role that was likely not the most ideal by any stretch. Not to mention they were jobs that others likely could have done better.
Even Gall in the kitchen with Fishguts wasn't free from their orders. Typically, Plugg and Scourge avoid the galley, but today they've poked their heads in to make a few demands of the kitchen. Fishguts didn't seem to mind of course, not after he was handed a lovely bottle of whiskey from Plugg. Needless to say, he was quite drunk within the first thirty minutes of the work day, leaving Gall to all the day's work.
To make matters worse, the pair somehow manage to shadow all of you, breathing down your necks and just waiting for an excuse to dole out some lashings come Bloody Hour. The crew members more sympathetic to your causes offer supportive words and as much help as they can without abandoning their own posts. A few will be getting their own lashings for their efforts.
With the sharp eyes of the meanest officers constantly on you, it's difficult to slack off or sneak away. Even chatting with the person next to you is likely to earn some backlash if they catch it. It's clear they are now quite literally out to get you.
Gall bristles at the thought of Plugg pushing both him and his friends around, but nothing can come of it just yet. Good things come to those who wait, he reminds himself as he gets busy cooking. Fortunately, time passes fairly quickly as he sets himself to the work and makes certain to set a bucket of chicken blood off to the side. Normally, he would just pitch it out a porthole as soon as the bird had been bled dry, but Cueta has a good use for it. No sense in letting perfectly good blood go to waste.
Between his many tasks in the kitchen, he does try to take a moment here and there to poke around a bit more. The galley hosts a great many secrets and he has plans to find each and every one, provided he has enough time.
Cueta spends the day in a foul mood, unable to turn around without seeing one of the Plugg or Scourge eyeing her. She buckles down and tries to work at her bailing and pumping diligently, but perhaps its the constant hovering of her enemies - she finds herself distracted and her work not up to snuff, even by Cueta's lax standards.
Sighing as the day comes to a close, Cueta heads abovedecks, heavy with the realization that there's a lashing in her future.
Esmarelda couldn't help but raise her eyebrow at the question. "Well Harmony I think that really depends upon the one in question." She answer as she crossed her arms. "For example, take a look at Rosie. To me she just looks like a short grown woman. Which is a rarity in the halfling race. But that is halflings, you mentioned having a moustache so for our next example let us use Conchobhar. Now there is a man, he does not act any where close to a child and would be greatly insulted if you told him he was. That said... even with his impressive facial hair he does have a baby face. But I have been told that is a gnome thing." She said with a shrug. "As for dancing with one, get use to them holding your waist. Though to be honest I'd be more worried about the physical problems any of our size or bigger would have with one of the shorter races. I mean if the female is of the bigger races it isn't too bad but if the female is of the smaller races then... well I just really hope the male started out this life with the worst handicap." She said as she shook her head. "All in all, if both people are happy being with one another who has the right to stop them? Both are consenting adults and even though that halfling or gnome, or even dwarf, is shorter than their romantic counterpart there is a very high likelihood that they are much older than said counterpart."
---------------
Esmarelda got a slightly worried look on her face when she was given her task for the day. No matter what they did it just seemed like Plugg and Scourge had it our for them. With a heavy sigh she gathered the stone and bucket and set to work. Yet though out the day Esmarelda could feel eyes upon her. She would pause only long enough to look around. When she noticed Plugg or Scourge's eyes laid upon her she would quickly turn away and set back to work. But after about the third time she stopped looking and began to hum a tune nervously any time she felt either of their presence.
I had managed to gain quite the audience with my displays of the proper way to board an enemy vessel, but I still failed to impress the likes of Mister Plugg. As he railed against my demonstrations of derring-do, I tried to explain to him that part of the joy of being a pirate was the chance to buckle the swash. Alas, he was less than impressed and thoroughly mirthless.
The next morning, he had me up in the crow's nest as the lookout. I set about the task with a hearty "Yes sir!" but he just scowled and cracked that cat o' nine tails of his. He was a decidedly unpleasant person, I must say.
Spending the day in the crow's nest was rather uneventful. I scanned the horizon and pondered my current fate. I longed for a bit of pirate action, as the tedium of being a rigger was starting to get to me. I could only hope a change in the winds would lead to a change in our fates.
"Well those are...wise words. I'll keep them in mind", Harmony smiles to Esmarelda at the end of their discussion.
The next day, when Scourge and Plugg have clearly gotten out of bed on the wrong foot, Harmony grits her teeth at the assignments. She's having a hard time accepting these jobs, but manages to hold her tongue for the moment. Getting to work, she rassa-frassa, mumble-grumbles her way throughout the day, not even trying to slip away to do anything else, but just focusing on the job, making sure everything is as spit and shiny as can be.
Daytime Action: Work Diligently
Come evening, however, she's seethed and simmered over a low fire long enough, and she's about ready to explode. For hours now, she's been mentally preparing to confront Scourge and Plugg, and she has just waited for the right moment. Which she decides is just before the lashing hour. If she's going to be punished -- and she's prepared for anything short of a keelhauling, maybe she'll get beaten and kicked, maybe put in a cage, whatever -- she might as well leave as short a time span as possible between her confrontation and the punishment. Less time to sweat it.
She waits for a moment when Plugg and Scourge are in the biggest crowd of favorable crew members -- at least six people present, though preferably more, and with as good a ratio of friendlies versus hostiles as she can get. Then, she steps in front of Plugg and Scourge, and points a finger at them. "What the hell was today about? You know as damn well as I do that those were *not* the best assignments for us, or if you don't --! You, Master Scourge, and you, Mister Plugg, are either grossly stupid, or flat out incompetent! This ship deserves better than what you pulled today! Your captain deserves better! And this f---ing crew deserves better! The Wormwood is not your personal vendetta machine! Can we expect the same if we end up in a life threatening situation? Are you going to make us the worst we can be, instead of the best we can be, if we run into a storm again? Or a battle? Even if it costs some of these crew members their lives? You keep talking about how s--- we are, well look at yourselves! If you have the slightest shred of respect in your jobs, then f---, if you're not going to admit it to me, then admit it at least to yourselves! That you can do f---ing better than this! And if you don't respect your own jobs, then how the hell do you expect *us* to?!"
If allowed to, Harmony walks away at this point. If she's killed, she's killed. If somewhere in between, we'll see what happens.
Gall's search was cut short by Scourge stomping into the kitchens to glare about awhile. "What do ya think ya're doin'? Snoopin' around? Those not be crates for the kitchens! Lashes for you at the Bloody Hour!" he barked happily. It's clear Gall won't be able to get any snooping around done today.
Work isn't easy with your enemies peeking over your shoulder all hours of the day. Fortunately, Geach had the brains, or at least maybe instinct or nocturnal tendencies, to stay out of site for majority of the day. At the end of the day when Plugg came down to inspect her work, he cackled wildly and snaped his whip over her head. "Guess I'll be seein' you at the Bloody Hour, won't I lass?"
Despite being quite fatigued, Esmarelda's hard work paid off. Plugg and Scourge couldn't find a fault with her results, though they booth sneered and scowled at her anyways. At least they held their tongues.
Artevious was like a monkey in the rigging they way he scaled the ropes to the top. He was probably the only one of your party that avoided the ever watching eyes of Scourge and Plugg simply by virture of being so high up. Out of sight, out of mind, as the saying goes!
A stunned silence comes down on the deck as folks finish up their tasks. Of course that all comes to a halt when Harmony's display of defiance starts. Plugg raises his cat-o-nine-tails. Seems Bloody Hour is going to start with Harmony.
Bloody Hour started as the work day finished, even before everyone had been gathered on deck. Anyone already not on deck, in particular Cueta and Gall, were called up by Ratline who seemed to always know when things were happening on the ship. Particularly things out of the ordinary.
From his vantage point, Artevious can clearly see the ongoings below him and Esmarelda who had still been on deck at the time had a front row seat.
Rather than go through the usual routine of tying an unsatisfactory crew member to the main mast before the lashes to the back, Plugg simply starts cracking his multi-tailed whip over Harmony, letting the lashes fall where they may. It's a brutal thing to watch as Plugg removes chunks of skin from Harmony. By the time he's done, Harmony isn't moving and is bleeding all over the portion of the deck she had been scrubbing.
Any attempts to intervene are thwarted. Should Esmarelda make any move to help her companion, she's easily grappled by Maheem who had been lurking nearby, Artevious is unable to scale back down the rigging quick enough, and Gall and Cueta aren't even able to make it back up on deck before the matter is done.
"Get her off the decks and take her to the Stitchman!" he orders. Crimsom Cogward and Aretta Bansion quickly scoop her up and take her below decks. Very quietly, Mila Quinn follows after them.
"Bring me the others!" Plugg sneers.
Kipper and Jape grab hold of Cueta once she makes it on deck and haul her forward to the mast, followed by Gall at dagger point by Syl. After them comes Badger Medlar, Jack Scrimshaw, and Rosie Cusswell. Of course, none of them get as rough treatment as Harmony had, but rather than the usual whip, they all get the cat-o-nine-tails as well.
Everyone is dead silent after the Bloody Hour.
Below decks, the unconscious Harmony is tended to by the Stitchman who cleans and patches the worst of the wounds, stabilizing her if nothing else. He's joined by Mila Quinn, who he seems friendly with, and offers up some aid in the task, though the Stitchman hardly seems to need it. Seeing that Harmony is still out cold, probably from pain and blood loss, Mila Quinn calls out to Besmara for some divine healing for the woman. Sadly, healing does absolutely nothing for her very torn clothes. At least they are tastefully torn.
Esmarelda went pale when Plugg raised his cat-o'-nine-tails. She knew there wasn't anything she could do but that didn't stop her from trying. She dropped the bucket, holystone within it, and tried to get to Harmony. Yet as soon as she began to move she felt arms grab her. Turning her head just enough to see who it was her made her face grow even paler, if that was even possible. She turned her head away from him, looking down at the deck of the ship. "You will release me" She hissed to him. "And never lay a hand upon me again." Her voice was quiet so only Maheem could hear her with the commotion going on, but he could still sense the anger in it.
Cueta makes a mental note as she's hauled to the mast - Jape and Kipper. "It is going to end badly for you," she whispers as she's tied.
Later the deckhand broods in her berth, thinking over the present Gall has brought her. Unable to sleep, Cueta tosses and turns until the darkest hours of the evening, when she finally settles on a plan. But first, there's tending to a friend.
Standing over Harmony, Cueta places her hand on the forehead of the sleeping woman, and utters a quick request to Besmara, noting Harmony's bravery, and the strife she's caused among the crew, separating everyone into two groups. The Pirate Goddess has to be pleased, Cueta reckons, and she's right. As the supplication is finished, Harmony's remaining wounds mend, turning into little more than bright red marks gracing the woman's skin. And those will fade with time.
Next, its down to the bilges, to grab the locket and the stolen set of keys. Then, grabbing a rag and the bucket of blood, Cueta creeps over to the stairwell leading up the officer's quarters, and slowly, quietly, turns the lock, pushing the door open. Leaving the door open, and kicking off her shoes, Cueta slowly steps up the stairs, figuring there's got to be a little light above, in case one of the officers has to get up in the night.
Once in the room, Cueta sets about her plan: using the rag, she'll paint on the floor the following message: All keelhawlers die soon!. Then, she aims to hang the locket - Jake's locket - around the sleeping Plugg's neck, before locking the door and making her way back down the steps all the way to the bilges, where she'll hide the bucket and rag in the bilgewater below where she sleeps.
Gall manages to make it back up to the deck just in time for the tail end of things. Namely, an unconscious and bloodied Harmony being carted away by Aretta and Cogward with Mila in tow. Cueta being dragged to the mast by Jape and Kipper does not escape his startled gaze, nor do Maheem's hands on Esmeralda. "Oi! Hands off me--" he starts with a snarl of rapidly building anger, only to feel Syl's dagger prod lightly against his midsection.
The words catch in his throat as he falls still, hands clenched into fists as he grits his teeth. Swallowing down the desire to sock Syl square in the jaw for stopping him from helping his friends, he simply gives her a venomous stare. His eyes turn toward Maheem without losing any of the hatred that roils in his gut before he looks to Cueta. The ranger grinds his teeth at each crack of the whip that splits flesh and sends hot blood spilling down her back. When it is his turn at the mast, he gives the Mwangi woman a nod and tugs his shirt up around his neck to take his licks.
Later, when it comes time for dinner and things to do afterward, Gall makes certain to take a bit of Cueta's time to bring her the bucket of blood. Down in the bilges, of course, where it is at least plausible that he might be going to dump the bucket out. Afterwards, he tries to make conversation with Esmarelda and Artevious, though it is a bit forced. Inevitably, he ends up asking, "Did ye see what happened? What caused all'a that...mess? I were too far below decks to hear it."
Far above the deck of the Wormwood as I was, I couldn't rightly make out what Harmony was saying, though it appeared to be a fine dressing down of Plugg and Scourge. I leaned over the crow's nest and craned my ears to get the gist of it -- she was, of course, very talented in wordsmithing.
Unfortunately, her virulent verbosity did not have the effect she obviously intended, for Plugg was incensed. He laid into her with the most awful of floggings I had ever bared witness to. I made what haste I may, though I was sixty feet above the deck and going the quick way would have been a fatal miscalculation. Though the way Harmony's back was laid bare by Mr. Plugg's cat o' nine tails set my blood boiling, it was over by the time I reached the deck and she was being carted off.
My hand was flexing and wishing for my cutlass, but I had missed my moment of opportunity. In my haste to climb down, I was clumsy and got my feet caught in the rigging once or twice. Harmony wouldn't be of any help, and several of my other stalwart companions had blades next to their throats as well.
My only choice if I wanted to avoid seeing other friends die and possibly my own untimely demise, was to bide my time.
When the bloody hour was finished, I was prepared to spend a bit of time in thought but Gall approached with a question about the afternoon's events. I swallowed the bitterness rising as images of Harmony's rent back flashed in my mind's eye, then turned to Gall.
"Harmony used her gift of eloquence to state in no uncertain terms how foul and uncouth Mssrs. Plugg and Scourge are, and their failure as officers aboard this vessel. They took umbrage at having their shortcomings laid bare, so they retaliated in the only fashion they know how: with their whips. I had been in the crow's nest, so I lacked the ability to intervene, though I don't know if that would have earned anything more than a shared fate," I explained.
I shook my head. "I don't feel like reading to the crew this evening." However, I had a promise to keep, so rather than attempting to entertain the lads, I helped one improve his lot.
Gall frowns deeply and shakes his head, looking aside to spit on the deck in disgust. "Aye, I were afraid it came to somethin' like that. Ye keep an eye on the lass, won't ye?" He suggests, nodding to Esmarelda as he remembers the bit with Maheem earlier in the evening. "Better yet, keep an eye on one another. Don't go nowhere alone for a bit. See if ye can't take a friend with ye, no matter where ye are."
With a nod to the pair that he means to be in approval despite the way his jaw is set, he heads off to do...something. In the wake of the lashings and Harmony's treatment, he does not quite feel right gambling with the rest of the crew. Sure, it would be something to do in the meantime, but with their friend still sleeping off her beating...
The half-giant shakes his head to clear it of such thoughts and heads off to find someone to chat with. He would prefer Rosie, but honestly any of the crew that they are friendly with will do. Something to keep his mind off of revenge for a bit and more on mundane topics before he ends up doing something foolish.
Even after Cueta uses healing on Harmony, she seems quite exhausted by her ordeal, and remains in bed, slipping off to sleep to recover, though she does manage to give Cueta a smile and a, "Thanks."
Despite her protests, Maheen keeps a firm grip on her until the Bloody Hour is over, when he releases her after planting a slopy kiss on her neck. "Anytime you want to make another penny, you ugly wench," he hisses with a cruel and mocking tone.
Owlbear is very appreciative, and quite a learner! He silently mouthes the words and follows along with Artevious' reading with his exceptionally large finger. Artevious has to pause on occasion and wait for him to move it before reading the next line. What Owlbear lacks in finesse though, he makes up with in enthusiasm. A few crew members linger about to listen to a few lines of the story before going back about their own business.
Rosie is certainly around, easily found tuning her fiddle on a crate in the lower decks. She gladly accepts the company and plays Gall a tune, bellowing out profane and raunchy lyrics for his entertainment.
A few well wishers, including Mila, check up on Harmony through the evening, but she otherwise gets a good sleep.
Cueta easily slips around the ship, avoiding the creakiest boards and timing steps with the steady roll of the ocean waves. The officer's door opens as easily as it had the last time with a near-silent 'click'. A small everburning torch flickers at the top of the stairs, lighting her way well enough to navigate upwards into the officer's rooms. Seeing that all are asleep (or at least seem to be), Cueta sets to work.
There are several heart-stopping moments when the officers tossed and turned, and Pepper even grumbled in her sleep about washing out bloodstains again, but it seems Cueta was able to complete her painting without disturbing the sleepers. The locket she easily gets half around Plugg's head without having to physically move him. Good enough, likely.
When content with her work, she's ghosts back down the stairs and to her bunk without a sound.
The next morning you awake to the usual fuss, however this time about Plugg isn't with Scourge handing out the usual tasks. Instead Kipper seems to be the one helping set people about their business. Kipper is a well known suck-up to Plugg and Scourge despite being the underling of the Master Gunner Riaris Krine. His obnoxious behavior is only made worse by his equally obnoxious face.
Once again, you're all assigned the tasks you seem least capable at. Scourge glares at the rather battered (though feeling much better thanks to a few heals) Harmony, as if daring her to say another word on the matter when he sets her back to swabbing the decks.
Part way through the morning, Plugg emerges from the Captain's cabin, red faced and clearly angry. Anyone working near the back half of the ship could tell you they heard raised voice, but couldn't make out the words. It's clear something is amiss.
By lunchtime, rumors are circulating fast. Everything from Plugg having been caught with the Captain's love interest (though who that might possibly be no one seems to know) to Plugg getting demoted because he killed a crew member in the night (of course a head count discredits that one).
Much like yesterday, Scourge tries to keep an eye on all of you with the help of Kipper. Fortunately, Kipper is much less competent leaving Scourge stretched thin over his self appointed task of making you all miserable.
Shortly after lunch, Artevious spots a pot on the horizon. It's nothing to make a fuss over right away, but as time passes, the dot becomes more easily identifiable. A ship! It's a ship! A ship on the horizon!
Once again, thanks to gifts of nice booze from Scourge, Fishguts is intoxicated all day.
The next day I was again sent to the nest. As necessary a task as it was, I had found it a rather tedious and boring affair. So I set about climbing the rigging up to my perch far above the Wormwood's deck.
Clearly, I couldn't muster my usual enthusiasm and faltered a bit on my initial efforts to reach the top. Memories of seeing Harmony lashed so severely while I remained unable to intervene by virtue of my elevation hounded me as I climbed. I very much disliked being that removed from the action.
Upon reaching the nest, I wearily scanned the ocean, noting the various islands and archipelagos that we pass by, and sending a few warning shouts to the helm in order to avoid a nearby reef. It was again dreary work despite the view until I noticed a dot. A speck, as it were, but as I studied it, it resolved into a shape that carried sails. A ship!
I shouted to the crew. This was something! Finally a chance for some actual piracy! This day had certainly turned around!
I drew my cutlass and stood at the lip of the crow's nest, ready for action. After several minutes, the black dot on the horizon seemed to grow slightly. I sheathed my cutlass and strung my bow. As my heart thudded in anticipation, I put back my bow and drew my cutlass again. The black dot remained tiny on the horizon. I pulled out my bow again, weighing both in my hands. The cutlass returned to its spot on my belt, as no doubt it would not be needed before both vessels closed. I checked my bow's string and tested its draw. I waited several more minutes. I nocked an arrow, and made sure it was ready.
Goodness, this was taking a while.
The second Maheem released her Esmarelda dashed from him, rubbing the back of her neck where he had kissed. I didn't even see him.... it's like he came from thin air... Esmarelda thought as she ran to Harmony's side. When she found her with Mila and Cueta her worry subsided, she knew Harmony was in good hands. Leaving her with the healers before she rejoined with Gall and Artevious.
When Gall spoke to them both about keeping an eye on each other Esmarelda simply nodded in agreement. When Gall left so did Esmarelda, heading right for her hammock.
----------
The following day Esmarelda seemed to be on edge once again, though this time it wasn't because of Scourge and Plugg. After all Plugg seemed to have other issues than watching them, and Kipper didn't really seem to care. During her task Esmarelda couldn't help but look around for Maheem after yesterday. If she was able to spot him she would do her best to avoid him, moving to another part of the ship to continue her work even. But she couldn't do this for long before it took a toll on her work and her. Yet even with all of this Esmarelda still stopped to speak with Harmony. "How are you feeling?" Esmarelda asked softly while moving from one area to another to get away from Maheem. "Did you get enough rest?"
After lunch, when Artevious shouted, Esmarelda put her holystone into her bucket and stood up to see the ship he called about. A ship? That means we may get a taste of real piracy! Esmarelda thought as a smile played upon her face.
Stuff about cutlasses and bows and waiting.
Cueta wakes, smiling. The fact that she wasn't pulled out of bed and keelhauled in the middle of the night means she got away with it. Probably.
The fact that Plugg isn't on deck to give out assignments means he's probably being punished. When the rumors start flying, the deckhand just shrugs. "Maybe its the bilge ghost?"
Cueta sinks herself into her work, determined to keep a low profile for the next couple of days, for surely the officers' fear will manifest in wrath directed towards the crew. Perhaps it is the heat of the bilges or the extra effort, but when Artevious' call goes up and all hands go topside, Cueta's spent.
Then there she is, a fat ship, maybe laden with spoils, on the horizon. Despite her low energy, Cueta paces the deck, yelling to everyone and no one in particular, words of promise and encouragement. "There she be, mates! Lookit her, we're gaining! Fat with treasure, no doubt, and its weighing her down. We'll be fookin' fighting soon enough, eh!"
Healing magic may treat physical wounds, but less so mental ones. Though Harmony was prepared for intense punishments as a reaction for her speaking out yesterday, it's never a trivial thing to be savagely beaten. Though she goes to sleep early, she twists and turns through the night, clearly troubled, but stops short of actually waking up from whatever bothers her. Even in the morning, after a longer sleep than usual, she feels drained and haggard. As such, she gives no protest to her daily assignment, and gets to work swabbing the decks.
Daytime Action: Work Diligently
It takes her full effort for the day to do her chores, leaving her little time for extracurricular shenanigans, but when Esmarelda approaches her, she flashes a little smile to the other woman. "I do feel exhausted. But I will get over it. Don't worry about me." As if to reinforce her words, she puts a hand on Esmarelda's shoulder. Then, she leans in close, and puts the briefest of whispers in the Varisian's ear. "I got what I wanted." Not explaining further, she slips away to continue work.
Once again, thanks to gifts of nice booze from Scourge, Fishguts is intoxicated all day.
Cooking: Assisting Ambrose Kroop in preparing the day’s meal. DC10 Profession(cook) or Intelligence check
Turtle Hunting: Hunting leatherback sea turtles with harpoons, treble hooks, and nets. DC10 Profession(fisherman) or Survival
Gall spends most of his day slacking off, surprisingly, but he does make certain to get his daily tasks done. Really, what he wants to know is what is being said by the captain to Plugg, at the moment. And given the galley's proximity to the captain's cabin, he hopes that maybe he can glean a bit more information than the others might be able to. When the yell of sails on the horizon goes up though, he makes for the main deck to try to get a good look for himself. "Bloody hell. I reckon it's one thing to say we're pirates but another to actually go through with it. Should be a tellin' experience! Learn a bit about yourselves and all that."
Captain Harrigan storms out of his cabin at the shout of sails on the horizon, shoving a few unlucky crew members out of his way as he heads onto the poop deck. He raises a spyglass to his eye, a wicked grim spreading across his face.
"She looks ta be fat with cargo!" she exclaims with a hearty laugh wicked enough to send shivers down your spine. "We can be on her tomorrow!"
He barks a few orders and the ship ever so slightly changes course directly for the other ship.
"Pay day's a comin', lads!" he yelled before disappearing back into his cabin again.
~ ~ ~
Shortly after that, Riaris Krine seeks out Harmony, Esmarelda, and Gall.
"Drop what you're doin', ya stupid cunts. I'll not have ya f~++in' up a perfectly fine boardin' just because you're a punch of useless pussies. You'll be practicin' your climbin' for the rest of today, and into the night if ya don't get it right!"
She drags the three of you up on deck and sends you into the rigging to practice climbing. Of course, just that isn't good enough, so she rounds up a few crew members to throw various things at you, very similar to the experience last time...
You'll need to make a DC10 Reflex check after your first successful Climb check.
You'll need to make a DC10 Reflex check after your third successful Climb check.
You'll need to make a DC10 Reflex check after your first successful Climb check.