You all wake up the following morning... You all remember the night before—the ringing laughter of a wild night, the heady joy of excess, the scents of rich stewed meat and perfume lingering in your nostrils. It was certainly a night to remember at the Formidably Maid.
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But now... a pounding headache, the sickly taste of cheap wine in your mouths, the hard floor, a rhythmic creaking noise, and the feeling of the room swaying, as if you were still drunk. Before you can do much more than sit up, however, several pairs of heavy footsteps enter the dark room, and the harsh light of a lantern painfully spears your eyes.
Six rough-looking men, armed with saps, accompany a tall man, carrying a cat-o-ninetails. An expression that might be mistaken for pain but which is clearly an attempt at a smile bruises the man's face as he cracks the whip in his hand and screams at the lot of you.
“Still abed with the sun over the yardarm? On your feet, ye filthy swabs! Get up on deck and report for duty before Cap’n Harrigan flays your flesh into sausage skins and has Fishguts fry ye up for breakfast!”
That rude awakening also causes you to notice that all of your equipment and personal affairs are gone. You have just the clothes on your back... and the bruises on your body.
Panic. The loss of my father's short sword and my armour make me feel vulnerable and I quickly pull myself to my feet despite stiffness and a roaring headache.
Slowly, his clouded eyes begin to open. Sprawled out upon his belly like a splayed squid, his unfocused eyes take in his dark surroundings as the last of his drool spills upon deck.
Instinctively, he feels for his missing blades.
Son of a...
He remembers nothing. Nothing past polishing off his last bottle of rum at the Formidably Maid, at least. Yet it dawns upon his dizzy mind where he must now be, and how he must have gotten here. For it's not his first time in this sort of predicament, after all...
Shanghaied. Again!
Then the sound of footsteps, and the tall man and his minions enter the room. As the blinding light and that voice grate into his hungover and throbbing head, anger rises. Reijo directs a mental insult at him.
A mangy keel-haulin' be good fer ye, y'small-balled son of a bilge rat!
The anger rapidly clears and focuses his eyes now. Anger swells to rage, and his blood begins to boil. But he keeps it under wraps, he keeps to his senses. For Reijo learned long ago his lesson the hard way, the last time he rushed to strangle the life out of a previous captor...
Slowly, Reijo stands up tall, keeping his scowling blue eyes fixed upon the whip-bearing man and his six petty swabs. Without breaking his intense eye contact, he wipes the spittle from his mouth with the back of his hand. As the others rise from the floor around him, Reijo breezily brushes himself off, as if he had all the time in the world.
But he makes not a move in defiance.
For now...
Out of instinct Doc reaches for his alchemy kit to draw the ingredients for a mutagen and defend himself. His hands find nothing but air and cloth and he sighs sadly. So this is how it is to be press-ganged. I'll need to make the best of it if I am to get any of my equipment. To the man who spoke he says, "Aye, aye, sir!" He rises to his feet and gives a little salute. "If I may speak freely sir, I seem to be missing my equipment. I'll do as I am told, but I don't see as I'll be much use without it."
Out of instinct Doc reaches for his alchemy kit to draw the ingredients for a mutagen and defend himself. His hands find nothing but air and cloth and he sighs sadly. So this is how it is to be press-ganged. I'll need to make the best of it if I am to get any of my equipment. To the man who spoke he says, "Aye, aye, sir!" He rises to his feet and gives a little salute. "If I may speak freely sir, I seem to be missing my equipment. I'll do as I am told, but I don't see as I'll be much use without it."
The man glares at "Doc" with an air of utmost contempt.
"What are ya' blatherin' on about you idiot?"
He gestures to the torn clothes you're wearing.
"You've got everything you need right there. Clothes on your back... and more importantly, air in your lungs. If you don't want to be losing that I reckon ya' shut ya' trap and obey me' orders"
Doc immediately stops talking and follows the men.
Waking up, Shigeru is immediately welcomed to the world of the conscious by his three best friends - a hangover, a headache, and a sick stomach. Lovely. I knew I should've gone to that other tavern..
The last thing he remembers from last night was a rowdy night with an attractive corsair - and something to do with being beaten and stuffed in a sack. Shigeru's body aches from the beating, but his mind is taken from thinking about his body when the men enter the room.
Ah.. pressganged and stripped of my gear. Damnit! My pistol and my spellbook! They better not have damaged them! Shigeru picks himself up off the ground and stands tall, his bones popping as he tries to get the soreness out of them. He then looks at the man with the whip straight in the eyes and spits, "Aye, aye, Sir. Shigeru grins with a crooked smile to show he's not intimidated as he heads updeck, following orders compliantly - for now.
Jagray rolls over as the light from the lantern washes over him. "By Gozreh turn off tha' bloddy light!" Hearing the orders he flips over rubbing his eyes wearily, taking in his surroundings. Not a stranger to waking aboard a ship after passing out drunk he hadn't even realized where they were.
Last time I'll be drinking there he thinks as he takes inventory of the situation. Sighing he stands and speaks calmly to the man with the whip. "Press-ganging a devoted follower of Gozreh..." he shakes his head "I can't imagine yer captain would approve. Can I be gettin' me holy symbol back at the least? Mayhaps I can be speakin' with tha captain?"
The man glares at Jagray.
"A nice chat with the captain is it? Oh well fancy me that, he wants a chat with the captain."
He hunkers down and meets you eye to eye.
"Listen dwarf, the Captain does as he pleases. And I don't recall you havin' a holy symbol. Mayhap you'd best forget about it eh?"
He spits on your boots.
"Now, how about I don't ask twice, and everyone who seems to be hard of hearing joins the smarter one on deck."
Jagrey huffs, knowing better than to argue in the current situation and heads up on deck to try and get a better idea where they are or where they might be going.
Reijo follows after his new dwarf mate up to the top deck, with a gait that conveys confidence. As he passes each man, he meets their gaze without a flinch.
These men are going to get me killed
Having regained a certain sense of composure, Vaite follows quickly after the others while scanning the surrounding brigands for signs of his sword.
When you reach the main deck, it’s quickly apparent that you are on a sizable ship in the middle of the ocean, far from any land. Port Peril and the mainland of the Shackles are just an ochre haze many miles astern. Figures cluster around the ship’s mainmast, looking up at the higher deck on the stern, where two figures stand. One of them is a broad, muscular Garundi man with a shaven head, a long beard bound with gold rings, and an eye patch— clearly the captain. The other is a younger, balding man with a long black ponytail, wearing a long coat and carrying a well-used cat-o’-nine-tails.
At this point you also notice that you are not the only new recruits—four others are standing with you on the deck, set apart by their relative cleanliness and their apparent unease with their newfound situation. A dozen or so other pirates, clearly existing members of the crew, stand about on the deck or in the ship’s rigging.
The captain then addresses the crew.
“Glad you could join us at last! Welcome to the Wormwood! My thanks for ‘volunteering’ to join my crew. I’m Barnabas Harrigan. That’s Captain Barnabas Harrigan to you, not that you’ll ever need to address me. I have only one rule—don’t speak to me. I like talk, but I don’t like your talk. Follow that rule and we’ll all get along fine."
“Oh, and one more thing. Even with you new recruits, we’re still short-handed, and I aim to keep what crew I have. There’ll be a keelhaulin’ for anyone caught killin’ anyone. Mr. Plugg! If you’d be so kind as to make pirates out of these landlubbers, it’ll save me having to put them in the sweatbox for a year and a day before I make pies out of ’em.”
At the end of his speech, the captain walks away, leaving behind the man with the cat-o’-nine-tails. He looks down at the PCs and other impressed captives and smiles unpleasantly.
"Alright you miserable wretches. Get your bodies into the riggings. Anyone slacking off will wish we'd left you unconscious in the bay."
Climbing the rigging requires a DC 10 Climb check to reach the crow’s nest, 60 feet above the deck. Remember that the PCs climb at one-quarter their normal speeds (or half speed with an accelerated climb) so each PC will need to make several Climb checks. The first PC to reach the crow’s nest is the winner.
Now that he's out in the open air, smelling the salty sea breeze, Reijo begins to truly calm down, release his rage, and feel more at home.
Of course, that doesn't stop him from harboring homicidal thoughts about the captain or his balding lapdog.
Reijo approaches the ropes nearer himself and begins the tricky climb. But having done this many times before, this seasoned sailor finds the task little more challenging than a stroll along the beach. He nonetheless paces himself, reaching the crow's nest in ten breaths.
While there, Reijo enjoys the view for a moment, then reaches for his pipe. He finds his pouch is missing instead. He grimaces...
Son ov' a scurvy dog!
Jagray sighs and rubs at his beard. Oye.. is all he can think to himself. He moves to the rigging and trys to make his way up.
7.5 ft
falls
saves?
15 ft
falls
saves?
falls
saves?
falls
saves?
22.5 ft
30 ft
37.5 ft
45 ft
52.5 ft
60ft
Davey makes it to the top and sighs with relief. That wasn't so bad... he thinks to himself, his heart pounding in his chest from all those near misses.
With a few moments to spare, Reijo uses his bird's eye view to give the ship and her crew a visual inspection. He's particularly looking for who might have his missing gear on them, with particular interest at the moment in...
Which o' these scurvy dungbies be havin' me pipe an' leaf, now, eh?
After catching up to Reijo, Arithas laughs, "You'd think I was a good for nothing landlubber after that climb, eh? Ha!"
Reijo notices the poor dwarf struggling on the ropes below.
Nah, that one ain't gots me stash... though he could be usin' a good puff too, by the looks ov' it.
With a sideways glance, he gruffly replies to the elf before returning his gaze down below.
"Aye."
Doc might wonder if this man really does think him to be a lubber with that response...
He might also notice that his hands compulsively grip and then extend a few times, as if he's anxiously fixed on finding something in the crowd below...
Well better get started then... Vaite says to himself after having watched the others efforts
Once at the top Vaite closes his eyes and enjoys the fresh breeze on his face and the good it does to his still throbbing headache. He then proceeds to scan the crowd on deck for his short sword.
Well, can't say climbing was one of my better skills.. but best I play along for now.
Climbing along with the others, Shigeru embarassingly falls back down to the main deck a few feet up - being someone who doesn't give up easily, he hops back up and tries again, slowly climbing his way up. However, half way up, he slips and falls the entirety of the way back down, landing with a sickening crunch on the main deck. He doesn't get back up.
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Captain Harrigan sneers at the lot of you. "It would seem some of you are more apt than others."
"You two (Vaite and Raijo), you'll be in the riggings from now on. The rest of you are swabs. And you," he points to Shigeru, "you're worthless. I'm sending your useless body to the kitchens."
He turns to head back inside.
"Master Scourge, Mr. Plugg... take command here. And someone heal that wretch before he dies on my deck like a gutted fish."
Vaite turns to Raijo with a smirk on his features. "Better being useful on this ship I reckon eh?"
Just barely having gotten up Jagray climbs back down slowly and tends to the Tien man's wounds. He looks to the two men left in charge "I can stabilize 'im but wit'out me holy symbol I cannea heal his wounds. Someone's got ta have a holy symbol of Gozreh."
Davey Jekyll looks disheartened at the thought of being a swab, used to being a doctor. Gotta start somewhere I guess... To Jagray Hamfur he says, "I'm sure there is a follower of Besmara or two aboard that might be able to help."
Reijo grasps the edge of the crow's nest with one hand as he looks over and down at the Tian man smacking the deck, muttering softly aloud "Son ov' a..."
While continuing to observe the crew below, Reijo grumpily replies to Vaite as he continues to grip and flex his free hand anxiously, "P'raps... if yer belly can take the sea sickness up 'ere."
The motions the ship makes at sea, amplified 60 ft. up from the deck, answer any questions of what Reijo might mean by the sea sickness.
Guess he's not very social, Vaite thinks to himself, and no bloody sign of me blade either, could this day get any worse?
He makes his way slowly down to the deck and moves next to Jagray and Shigeru.
"How're that poor bastard's wounds coming?", he asks the dwarf
Best be takin' it easy now, Reijo thinks to himself as he notices and then relaxes his jittery hand.
After a last, brief sweep of the ship from above, he makes the climb back down as well, awaiting the orders of his un-asked for new boss with the pleasantness of a grumpy cat.
The Captain nods his head and one of the pirates brings forth your holy symbol.
"You got a minute with it. Then it goes back to the quartermaster. You'll pay for it when you get the money."
Doc awaits orders from his new boss once back down on the deck.
Reijo pays heed to where the quartermaster retrieved the holy symbol from; from on his person, or from which part of the ship?
Jagray great fully takes the holy symbol and considers his options, not wanting any further conflict he holds the holy symbol to the Tien man and says a brief prayer to Gozreh.
He'll continue to hold onto the symbol until directly asked for it back, hoping ey will forget he has it.
"Nrrgh," is what is heard coming from Shigeru as he wakes up. "And that.. that is why I don't like to climb. What'd I miss?" Shigeru rolls over from his back and pushes himself up - still obviously in pain, but awake again. Upon standing he nearly loses his balance by standing up too fast, but he keeps himself from falling over with proper flailing of his arms.
"Who won?"
Jagray motions to Reijo and Vaite "Tha two of them won it seems. Ye bes' not worry about that though wit' tha fall ye took, mayhaps just focus on not gettin' hurt again. I donnea know if I'll be able ta heal ya next time." He tightens his grip on his holy symbol at the thought of losing it again.
Vaite holds out a supporting arm to help steady Shigeru
"I don't usually offer my help to others, but with the state your in I figger I could make an exception to that rule" he says to the wizard with a crooked smile and slight laugh in his words
The Wormwood works on discipline and routine. Captain Harrigan’s philosophy is that a busy swab is a tired swab, and tired swabs don’t pick fights with each other.
After breakfast, the crew work at their allotted jobs until dusk, when they gather on the main deck to witness punishments (the “Bloody Hour”), eat dinner, and receive their rum rations. After punishment time and the evening meal, the crew can do what they wish until dawn bell the next morning.
Failing a task’s required skill check results in punishment. The punishment for failing a check by 4 or less is merely a severe verbal reprimand, or at worse, a rope bash. Failing by 5 or more results in three lashes. The number of lashes increases to six if this is the second such failure in a row, to nine lashes for three failures in a row, and so on.
Riggers
Rigging Repair: The ship’s rigging frequently gets damaged and must be repaired, requiring DC 10 Climb checks to reach the rigging 30 feet up, followed by a DC 10 Profession (sailor) or Dexterity check.
Swabs
Swab the Decks: Backbreaking work mopping the decks and scrubbing them with sandstone blocks called holystones, requiring a DC 10 Strength or
Constitution check. Failing either check results in the PC being fatigued at the end of the shift.
Cook's Mate
Cooking: Assisting Ambrose Kroop in preparing the day’s meal. If Kroop is sober, no check is required. If Kroop is drunk, this requires a DC 10 Profession (cook) or Intelligence check.
Davey rolls his eyes and grabs his holystone to begin his days' labour. He works dilligently until his the end of the shift.
For breakfast, the man in red eats his bland meal slowly. He stares off ahead at a wall, burning a hole in it one might think from the severe expression upon his face.
He does his work with skill and with sweat all morning. Ever on his face is a frown. Glancing where he may, he takes in the layout of the ship, or as much of it as he may see in his duties. He as well studies the crew members he passes, observing their persons briefly when they are not looking.
In the afternoon, Reijo continues on performing his duties with expertise and, of course, more grumpiness until dusk approaches.
After his eating morning meal in silence, Vaite sets to work with apprehension. Despite his natural agility and frequent travels he has rarely had to work the riggings of a ship, being more of a mercenary than a sailor.
Having reached the top with relative ease, Vaite somehow managed to figure out the complexities of a ships rigging and accomplished his task without to much dificulty.
Well that went well
Jagray decides to put aside the rough bit of being "recruited" onto the ship and do his best as that is likely the quickest way to get off again. Jagray decides to help out swabbing the deck while talking with the Mr. Plugg any chances he gets to get into his good graces.
Having been sometime since he last swabbed a deck he ends up not doing quite as good a job as he had planned.