Your orders came sealed in a simple scroll, but the mark of the grand admiral Igneous Thrune clearly marked the contents within the scroll as important. The orders inside were simple, Meet Admiral Teip in the office of the admirality right after 6 bells in the morning Ready for a breifing of import...
That was last night, Now the 5th bell has just rung over the city and the dawn's first light is cresting the horizon.
Stefan looked into the mirror, checking that his hair was combed, his clothing straight, and his medals properly in order. A night of mild debauchery had left no traces. Or no visible traces.
"I don't think Elox liked you very much, Sesty," he told the viper slithering up the mirror's left-side column. "Well, let's keep an eye on him. He must be able, to have risen so far despite such a habit of disrespect."
"Yess....." the viper hissed. "Will watchhhh...."
Stefan scooped his familiar up and slid him up his sleeve with a practiced gesture. "Remember, no going out in the admiral's office. He doesn't care, but not everyone knows about you. Let's see what kind of ship we're getting -- enough rats for you means the Victualling Office has been careless about the seals again. Can't have that before a voyage, and I know some pursers stack the bad barrels behind the good ones." He smoothed his hair once more, then pulled a cord dangling beside the mirror.
A short slim figure peeped around the doorframe. "You rang, sir?"
"Breakfast as usual, Andreas. No milk in the coffee. And pack up your drumsticks, and the rest, boy. We're likely to have a ship to rally this afternoon. You've been practicing the signals?"
"Aye, sir. They're very simple rolls." A quick glance of inspection. The hair was newly cut, the sailor suit trim but loose; it would do for now. Later on ...
"Simple sounds carry over battle. We'll see if your frills and trills can be heard above screams or gales. Might be worth a try -- and when we get back, maybe the Opera will like your tunes. Don't make me sorry I picked you out of the gutters behind the divas' quarters." Not quite how I found my little drummer, but let's keep the cover story straight. 'The best lies are almost all true.'
Brevet Captain Stefan Mathur headed downstairs for breakfast, and then a brisk walk to the Admiralty. Fame and fortune awaited; both were tools toward power.
Malen listened with mild interest to Elrox's story of his exploits on the high seas, lifting his glass in toast at the end of it. At the Armiger's question about his and Morrigyn's relationship, the young captain laughed, looking over at the redhead with amusement before turning his attention back to Elrox. "Very close. A ship's doctor and morale officer must be well-trained, and whose morale is more important than the captain's?"
He snickered at the comment, finishing off that glass of wine, as well. If he was the least embarrassed for his sake or Morrigyn's at the comment, he surely didn't show it.
Malen awoke to the five o' clock bells with a start as he sometimes did, panicking as he saw the other beside him. As the fog quickly cleared he realized it was Morrigyn's sleeping form, her steady breathing causing her curves to swell the sheets up and down with the steady rhythm. He still woke like that on occasion, subconsciously worried that it was all a ploy, that the red-headed woman was playing the long game and would have the last laugh over his lifeless body. Never had she once even threatened him, but the thief feared the thief, as the saying went.
Taking a moment to calm himself, he sat up, contemplating his mood that day. New orders were likely, the admiralty didn't call in its captains for chit chat. The blond man decided his pet had done well the previous evening, and so he gave her a gentle pat on the rear. "Wake up and attend me, my dear. We overslept, and I have an important meeting in an hour. You wouldn't have me going looking disheveled, would you?" There was a certain menace to the question, one that hinted at the instability of its asker. Morrigyn knew from experience that such questions almost never had a guaranteed 'correct' answer.
Morrigyn had slept well when they got home, as she always did in her Master's bed, and mumbled slightly when she felt Malen's hand pat her rear. She shifted in bed, and rubbed her rump against the hand through the sheets. She hoped to go back to sleep, preferably with Malen beside her, but when he spoke and gave her a command her eyes snapped open and she sat up. "Yes Master, I'll have you ready as quickly as possible."
Sliding out from between the sheets Morrigyn's unclothed form became a pleasant sight for Malen as she moved about the room getting his clothing, which she had wisely laid out the night before, and began helping him dress. "Do you wish for me to join you Master or should I finish packing what we will need for a voyage while you receive your orders?"
Stefan came through the door four minutes before six bells, trailed by Andreas with drumsticks hanging from the hip, to every eye a captain and a ship's drummer boy.
The Waiting Room was huge, nearly a hundred feet long, with dozens of officer standing about waiting for appointments, or hoping for them, or merely catching the time with others. The windows on the north wall gave a clear light; below them a dozen charts of Cheliax's coast and nearby oceans illustrated the Navy's reach.
On the south wall, a vast mural showed the first Queen Abrogail defeating the forces of chaos and executing judgments on the traitors who had betrayed Cheliax after the fall of Aroden. Stefan inspected it closely; some of the faces were different from his last visit, though it would not do to say so in anybody's ears . . . and there were always ears in the Waiting Room.
He took the folder Andreas had carried in, and tossed the drummer a coin. "Go get breakfast for yourself, and deliver that letter I wrote earlier." Brief instructions to an agent at the Victualling Office, to be ready for an extra requirement of various necromantic ingredients. The Office had everything in its cavernous warehouses; the trick was finding someone who could direct the loading and shipping of supplies. More than one voyage had been ruined by inadequate munitions, or food, or sailor's clothing.
If need be the Dread Lord can provide, but better to keep His gifts for other needs.
He strode up to the secretary's desk, and bowed with a slight click of heels and a graceful gesture. "I am summoned for a meeting with Admiral Teip," he said cheerfully, handing over the scroll. Both men carefully did not notice the coin that passed underhand as well.
Behind him, Andreas scampered out the door again, turning left toward the clerks' domain.
Elrox woke from bed with a sting in his head and tired eyes. Should have held off of the drink. Always do have more than I can handle. he thought. With a lurch, Elrox forced himself from his bed, and directed himself to looking presentable for meeting the Admiral. Making sure his armor was nice and polished (for he was wary that the servant-boy had shirked his duties. Though it had only occurred once, with the punishment being quite severe, Elrox had met many a man that did not learn from the first time), Elrox proceeded to call the servant to help him put it on. Donning his robe, he chose to forsake his weapon. It was a mere visit to the office for orders. No sense in bringing such a large and blunt object. And if something came to blows, a dagger would still do nicely.
Exiting his home, he realized he had yet to have eaten breakfast. There was no time, unfortunately, for Elrox had to be at the office as soon as he could. He would be much rather early and hungry than the alternative, which would no doubt be quite horrible.
Making his way through the streets, he pondered exactly what these orders were to be, and exactly why were they of such importance. There was no point to questioning, however, as Elrox concluded. He would find out soon enough.
Settling back into the smug surety that the redhead was indeed fully and completely his, the blond man admired her voluptuous form as it left the obscuring sheets, the dim lighting only enhancing the effect. His body reacted, the sudden lustful urge bringing a grin to his lips. But alas there was no time to satiate such desires this morning, so Malen stepped out of bed, thankful that Morrigyn had had the foresight to prepare his wardrobe in advance.
The young man thought on his slave's question as she started to dress him, absently rubbing her head as he pondered before shifting his reach to the pendant on her choker. He twisted the chain just a bit, enough to pull it uncomfortably tight about her neck, then released it. After a moment, while lifting his legs into his trousers, he said, "If there is to be a voyage, they will surely allow us time to make preparations. Dress yourself for a meeting with the admiralty, dearest." His commands often were intentionally vague, the young captain delighting in seeing how the young woman interpreted his statements. He was in a good mood this morning, so was easy-going, but he had unleashed savage beatings in the past. And his mood could change at a whim.
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Malen strutted through the waiting room, wondering how many of those present would be joining him in the early morning meeting. All those of higher rank he gave respectful nods to, while those of equal or lower rank were soundly ignored. He had no need to look behind him to know that the beautiful redhead would be a couple paces to his rear, the picture of an obedient junior officer.
When he reached the Secretary's desk, he stopped suddenly, announcing himself. "Brevet Captain Malen Arturian here for an appointment with Admiral Teip at the sixth bell." He unrolled the scroll briefly, allowing the secretary to read it before stowing it. When directed to the door, the young man glides smoothly to his destination, his movements fluid as a dancer.
Morrigyn leaned into the hand stroking her hair enjoying the Master's touch as she dressed him and he thought on her question. When his hand lifted from her she wondered what he would do next and quickly found out as he grabbed the choker she wore and twisted it just enough to make breathing an effort but not so much as to choke her with it. She bowed her head slightly in obedience but continued her task as best she could.
Once Malen had his trousers on and gave her his instructions to prepare herself and go with him Morrigyn nodded and said, "Yes Master." After she finished helping Malen dress Morrigyn went about her own preparations while he ate. It took her time, as always, to dress properly, she had to wash her hair, dry it, get dressed, brush her hair out, etc. etc. Given their late rise she was almost too late to get out the door. Fortunately she had this happen before and grabbed a ration she kept stashed away for such occasions, eating as she got ready, and heading out the door just as Malen was about to yell for her. "Ready Master."
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As they entered the room Morrigyn followed a few steps back and slightly to the right of Malen. She was wearing a dress similar to a Chelish naval officer's uniform but one that fit more snugly, had a tight knee length skirt, and wore a pair of low healed black boots. She held her hands demurely clasped together before her and looked very much the role of a personal attendant who was ready to record notes or fetch coffee should her captain need it done. "Morrigyn, Captain Arturian's assistant." She held out the piece of parchment that had her instructions to report for the secretary to read and then glided after Malen as they entered the room.
Nebdel arrives at the office quite early, but doesn't enter. He quietly (but apparently obviously) watches to see who else is arriving for the meeting, with whom they arrived, and their demeanor while traveling. he waits until the last moment the enters for the meeting with only moments to spare.
Reporting as ordered, sir.
Elrox shuffled into the office nearly half an hour before the sixth bell, handing the scroll to the secretary. "A meeting, with the Admiral." was all the words he was willing to partake. The scroll was enough of an instruction, a direct order. After being returned the scroll by the secretary, Elrox quickly made his way to the meeting room.
In his haste, he makes no notice of Nebdel, nor any others who watch him.
Stefan keeps an eye on everyone else as they enter the Admiral's office, trying to see if anyone has any secrets worth ferreting out, or is acting nervous. He's never been here before and has no idea what to expect.
He also looks carefully at how the Admiral handles things. He plans to sit in this office, or a similar one, himself someday, and it's never too early to start studying how to do things...
"Good morning, sir. Brevet Captain Stefan Mathur reporting as ordered!" He clicks his heels sharply and formally, omitting nothing prescribed by Regulations.
The fifth bell rings out over the city, as Casarus locks the front door of his single room apartment. The half-elf touches the scroll in his belt to make sure it is there and descends the stairs. Under his deep blue cloak, he wears the uniform of the Chelaxian Navy. One bell to reach the Admirality, he thinks. He regards his polished boots and nods in satisfaction. More than enough time.
After buying two hard-boiled eggs from a street vendor, he walks along the harbor, watching the dawn and city come to life. A patter of steps from behind, and he lunges to the side while turning. A human vagrant armed with a rusty dagger scowls. ”Give me your coin elf!”
. . . .
The sixth bell rings as Casarus entered the admirality building. I could run, but that would be undignified. Some soft words and pirouetting fingers and his uniform is clean again, boots polished, and perspiration gone from his skin. He walks quickly, forcing his guide to keep pace. His scowl makes some of the younger officers press themselves against the wall rather than get in his way. Quickly, but not as quickly for his desire, he stands before Admiral Teip’s office.
”My thanks,” he said with a tilt of his head to his guide. He took a deep breath then entered the room. Apparently there were five or six others summoned to this meeting. Not looking to see if he knows anyone he focuses on the admiral. Coming to attention he salutes, ”My pardons for being tardy, Admiral Teip,” his melodious voice fills the room. His adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. ”Captain Casarus the Kharijite reporting for duty.” A bead of sweat runs past his temple, as he maintains the salute until the admiral salutes him back. One more mark against me, he thinks. What if I get demoted?
I really need to get out of here and back to sea, Stefan thought for the hundredth time. The slanting roof of his attic office made it impossible to lean back in his chair. Sesty, tired of hunting for non-existent mice... or ants... or spiders... or anything that wasn't dust ... had sulked into a coil under the desk. Both walls were full of piles of old contracts, regulations, and correspondence. The light from the small dormer window was gray and cold in the late afternoon. Still, there are opportunities.
He looked up from the papers he had been reviewing, at the visitor cramped in the small guest chair. A merchant's wife, flushed from the long climb and dusty from knocking on doors, but well-dressed in a fine lace-trimmed gown. Her husband is rich, or at least she wishes him to be thought so.
"I'm sorry, Madam -- Vencarlo, is it? The contract is quite clear -- those hundred barrels of mutton were supposed to be delivered to the Dominator a week ago. None of them are there yet, or even on the dock for loading. Under the circumstances, I cannot possibly approve payment, much less an advance against delivery. The regulations are quite clear." He flipped open a large red-bound book on his desk, finger coming to rest on a passage he had carefully looked up and marked earlier in the day.
Her mouth twisted. "But we need that advance! My husband's creditors are rather pressing. I assure you, the barrels are in the warehouse ready to be delivered. And the Dominator isn't even out of drydock yet. You can see it from your shadow-cursed window!" She stared at him for a minute, then leaned forward. "You said ... 'under the circumstances'. What if the circumstances were to change? An ... amendment to the contract, perhaps?
Yes! The exaltation did not touch his face. "There... are procedures." He flipped to another page of the large red book. "Let's see... I could arrange for a certification inspection, explain the delay as a result of that. There would be a small fee, of course. Which we could debit against the advance."
Tension flowed out of her face, and a smile slowly rose on her lips. "I see. An inspection, you said. Perhaps tomorrow morning, and if you could disburse the funds we could immediately begin moving the barrels..."
"A personal inspection, Madame Vencarlo. Your husband's warehouse is just west of the Second Stavian Arch, yes? Perhaps we could meet early tomorrow morning at the Pegasus Tavern there to make arrangements? It would be -- " his eyes met hers, travelled down and up -- "a very exacting inspection."
She looked at him for a long moment, then swallowed hard... and nodded. "I will book a room. You would surely not want naval business discussed in a public taproom?" A wry smile, a twist of her lace-covered shoulders. Oh, yes, she knows how the game is played.
He nodded in return, then rose. "Your concern for discretion gives you credit, Madame Vencarlo. I shall see you tomorrow, with the certificates and the contract amendment ready for signing. May your future business with the Navy be as pleasant." He bowed graciously, then stepped sideways to open the door. The corridor outside was gloomy, lit by a few skylights. Fire was forbidden in the archives, and magical lighting too expensive. He breathed in quietly as Madame Vencarlo exited, taking in the smell of her perfume, then stepped forward to escort her. She walked gracefully towards the staircase, her hand on his elbow. passing under an old portrait of construction at work, the foundations of the Victualling Office being laid. Neither of them commented on the three freshly-painted figures in the background, officials of newly prominent families added to the picture since the last public executions.
Five minutes later, Stefan returned to his room, noticing the small carafe steaming on his desk. Ah, halfling chefs are worth the money... how fortunate that Mother arranged for my own last birthday. He sipped the coffee carefully, admiring the careful blend of flavors. Now to get ready for the next appointment. Pleasure was all very well, but it could be taken too far -- Vencarlo was a reputable chandler, with a long record of success, and it would never do to let slop onto the mess desk -- sailors had been known to mutiny when ill-fed. Some people were willing to break the regulations, instead of making sure they were covered. Such as... He bent over the papers again, sipping coffee.
A knock at the door interrupted his thoughts.
"You're early, Lieutenant ... Casarus? Forgive me, I was just looking through the provisioning orders. Everything seems to be in order, and we can start delivering the flour and beans two days from now, if your crew is ready to stow them." He paused for a moment. "Sesty, check the corridor." The viper slithered out from the under the desk, then wriggled under the door. Stefan waited a minute for the faint feeling of reassurance, then unlocked his lower desk drawer and brought out a file. "I think you were wise to send these to me, Lieutenant. Not every clerk here would have known what they meant. Some might have known too much... But you implied that there was more to say?" A delicate eyebrow lifted.
Casarus had forgotten how many steps there were getting to the attic office. It could be worse, he thought. Doing this multiple times a day would keep anyone fit. At the top of the stairs he paused, letting his heart quiet its thumping in his chest. Muttered words and quick twirl of fingers and the sweat on his face was gone.
He entered the small office and stood before the supply clerk Stefan Mathur. ”Hope I’m not too early,” he muttered as the clerk said he was early. At the mention of Sesty, he half turned expecting to see an assistant at the door. There was no one there. Confused he returned his attention to the clerk and just caught the viper’s tail sliding past his boot. With a chuckle of surprise he stepped away from the snake.
A short nod met Sefan’s words about flour and beans. At the man’s raised eyebrows he cleared his throat and said, ”I brought this to your attention because you’re relatively new here. I doubt you’re involved in any of the dealings between my captain, quartermaster, and the supply officers here. I don’t like seeing the law and regulations undermined. It erodes morale and corruption festers and spreads. I’m close to fifty years old. Seventy more years on the sea isn’t unreasonable. I want a strong navy, and this weakens it.” He held up his open palms as a sign for patience.
”Your pardon, now is not the time for talking about all that. In short, I believe Captain Maxillus and the quartermaster Gaienix are smuggling gems, art, wine and other contraband into Cheliax. I’ve discovered numerous crates and barrels with false bottoms.
“As if that wasn’t bad enough, I think they are also reselling some of our supplies. The invoices from the last time we were in port were off by 5-15% depending on the item. It was a mistake that I saw it, and at first I just thought it was an accident. The more I thought about it, especially after finding the false bottomed crates, the more my suspicions rose.”
"I see most of the contracts," Stefan said, gesturing at the walls, shelves piled high with papers wrapped in bands of crimson silk. "Since I'm an officer rather than just another clerk, their Mightinesses in the Victualling Office have added reviewing contracts to all my other tiresome ways of decreasing the dust-mote count in this building. Likely they thought a merchant's son could catch standard contractor's tricks, and a lawyer-priest of Our Dread Lord notice legal errors. But they neglected to specify that I should only seek such things." He smiles wryly, then peers again at the contents of the folder from the locked drawer.
"I was worrying over those supply sales. They seemed a bit high for normal spoilage. We watch for it -- but normally no one steals and sells emergency rations. No one would buy them, you see. Even with purification spells, they taste like, well, what they were made from." He grimaces elaborately. "Not even a halfling can make them tasty, and most beggars can find better stuff rooting through garbage or strangling seagulls. A few slave-traders might buy them for punishment rations. So I was almost sure I'd just found another boring case of bookkeeping error. But with what you bring today..."
Stefan smiles dreamily, and sips the last of his coffee, then questions Casarus closely for a while about the details. "This is a big scheme. It's just supposed to look little -- maybe that's why it succeeded well enough for you to notice. See, most smugglers will only do one or two things -- because they have to get the goods in the first place, and they have to dispose of them in the third place. And they don't often know too many people on either end. Criminals fear betrayal, for some reason." His grin is ... wicked. "So they mostly stick with what they know. But here, I think your Captain Maxillus found a, a framework, to deal in lots of goods at once. He confiscates things from smugglers, or buys them cheap somewhere. A captain with culture has a lot of room to know what might sell, and where to buy. Then he, or more likely the quartermaster, or most likely some poor sap of a sailor or three, loads the stuff into false-bottomed crates of emergency rations or barrels of cheap plonk--" again an elaborate shudder.
"They offload them. And his contact on this side drives a wagon into one of our warehouses, perfectly legal with all the papers in order, and no customs inspectors in sight, because he's only buying stuff officially declared surplus or waste. Sure, it's shady, but no one would look closely at sales of 'spoiled' things -- it's practically a purser's perk. Using a minor peccadillo to cover a major one... I wonder which of them came up with the idea, and how long they've been running it before getting greedy or careless?"
Stefan relaxes for a moment, then picks up the fresh coffeepot, pouring a new cup for his guest, and another for himself. The cups are plain but elegant, with a small monogram. The pot has a larger version of the same design, and the coffee is rich with the smell of cinnamon and rarer Sargavan spices. "With your evidence on the bills, and a few spies and raids, we can prove it on them. I wonder whether the Navy, or the Count of Taxation, or the Unholy Inquisition, will come down on them hardest? Maybe it depends on what art they're bringing in... icons of lawbreakers go for a pretty penny among some people. But there's still one obstacle..." He sits back for a moment, brooding, and a red-black snake slithers up the leg of his chair, wraps itself around his arm, and looks him in the eye, tongue flickering.
"Who isss he sssinnnnnning withhhh....?" Sestandantilus hisses.
And will it be better to charge Captain Maxillus, or just let him throw the quartermaster into the viper pit and then blackmail him afterward? Stefan thinks to himself.
There were a small throng of other officers there in the office all standing at attention, holding a salute, none of whom you recognized.T hey seemed bright eyed, eager almost.
The office of Admiral Tiep was plain and stark. He was a tall, thin man, hair cut short, a ring of gray through the sides of his hair while the top of it was merely peppered with grays. Peircing blue eyes studied you all quietly before he finally returned the salutes.
"Greetings my young captains, and of course other officers of the line, some of you may have heard already about the terrible loss of Grand Admiral Druvalia Thrune to a concentrated attack by Pirates in the Shackles...and the Queen has demanded someone pay for that."
He paused and reached over his desk and some papers carefully taking a cup that was steaming with tea. It was a slow calculated pause of course, he was giving the chance of the words and news to settle in your minds while he took a simple sip of his tea.
"Admiral Kensington has already set sail torwards the shackles with the 2nd fleet, Admiral Embrixion has taken the 3rd fleet west presumeably to do the same. I know both men, I know their minds and their stratagies We too will be taking my fleet, the 4th fleet, your fleet to the Shackles . . . though unlike my...brethren"
The disdain in his voice for the other admirals was clear, and from the sound of things all three admirals were vying for the position of Grand admiral. . . clearly the admiral whom succeeded in his mission was bound to reward those captains beneath him.
"My plan will succeed...they may arrive there first, but we will arrive there prepared."
He finished taking another sip of tea.
Malen dropped his salute after a suitable time, annoyed as always to have to defer to another. Glancing back at Morrigyn, he decided to take it out on her later. Of course his mood was whimsical, so plans could change. The young captain remained standing, his eyes widening as Tiep spoke of Admiral Thrune's demise. His look quickly changed to one of sorrow, a safe emotion when confronted with the fall of a Thrune in Cheliax.
Malen grew more interested as Tiep continued, the opportunity for personal advancement should the 4th Fleet succeed impossible for the blonde man to ignore. If Tiep were promoted, that would leave a string of vacancies at the top of the power structure open that a successful and daring captain might hope to fill. Perhaps something that might ply the waters less, allowing a social young captain the chance to mingle and make connections instead of languishing at sea for weeks at a time.
Malen looked at the Admiral slyly after the older man's last comment. "You have a plan to defeat these pirates then, sir?" The man was obviously playing up the drama of the situation, so Malen decided to help him along. After all, it sounded like the other two fleets had already left, so they were already behind. Tiep seemed oddly smug about it, though...Malen wondered what the man might have up his sleeve.
Elrox nodded to the fall of the Grand Admiral. It certainly explained as to why they were here. Anyone who could avenge the loss would certainly gain some influence with House Thrune, and with it, a higher position.
Thus, he was puzzled by the man's calm demeanor. Certainly, he believes that the other Admirals will fail. But for what reason? he thought.
Elrox stayed silent, for it was clear the Admiral was not quite finished giving his piece.
Back to the Shackles? Stefan wondered. None of that touched his eyes, of course; his face was draped with the sorrow and shock of Chelaxian defeat, but for the rest the Admiral and the others saw only a wiry young man of average height, black-haired and skin of light olive, a typical Chelaxian. And a typical officer: uniform clean and neat with creases carefully pressed, medals and insignia all present (and some of them notable), and of course the trim of red and black that marked a chaplain-officer of the Church of Asmodeus.
A second glance with keener eyes would reveal a man young for captain's insignia, but of commanding bearing and active eyes, that somehow took in everyone in the room and evaluated them despite keeping firm focus on the admiral, the center of the room.
Behind the mask of office, the mind of the man rippled with a dozen threads. Back to the Shackles? A profitable voyage, but nearly disastrous more than once. And To a bloody war and a sickly season!, the traditional toast of young officers seeking promotion. There would be plenty of open spaces if a fleet had been defeated, and the Sargavan coasts were notorious fever haunts to boot. Better stock up on the febrifuges. And then he caught the drift of the Admiral's statement, neatly torn between Preparation -- I can do this! and I hope I'm not stuck as fleet quartermaster -- I want command!.
He said only, "What sorts of preparation will we require, sir?"
Obviously 4th Fleet is prepared to carry out your orders. I will ensure no reluctance or recalcitrance will be permitted.
Do we have any other information besides his loss?
Casarus keeps his face calm and unperturbed as the admiral mentions the Shackles. Overconfidence had led many men to their dooms, Casarus reminds himself as the Admiral dismisses the other admirals efforts. Behind Casarus’ back his fist shakes in excitement to be hunting pirates. No matter the years he still remembers his father being run through by a pirate. Wouldn’t it be more effective to combine the three fleets and destroy the pirates that way? he thinks.
He nods as his fellow officers ask their questions. ”I am eager sir,” he says.
Morrigyn entered the office and stood behind and to the right of Malen as was only proper and eyed the assembled people. She didn't know most of them, at least by name, but several faces were easily recognizable as her former classmates. When the Admiral entered and everyone saluted Morrigyn did not. Given her strange status as a civilian adjunct it wasn't expected of her though she did stand at attention out of respect for the man's position. She noted Malen's look at her and knew he was thinking of relieving his annoyance at the long salute on her later, perhaps even more so because she didn't have to do these same things he did.
As the meeting began Morrigyn pulled a quill and ink out as well as a small book to take notes as the meeting progressed and began to listen intently. Her writing faltered as she heard the admittance that Admiral Thrune had died fighting the pirates. She remembered just how vile those wretches were when they were performing anti-piracy patrols in the past. The fact that two other fleets were ahead of them was disturbing but she found herself agreeing with the Admiral that it could work to their advantage if used properly. She looked up expectantly and waited to hear what came next.
Waiting for the Admiral to continue, Stefan starts making more mental notes.
Officers. The Admiral will doubtless have his favorites, but can I transfer anyone I know to the ship? Or anyone I can trust to be loyal? Must ask Filippo for promising records. Better see if the Church will second me another chaplain as well - it will not hurt to have someone who can back up my control of undead if I am wounded. A lieutenant or sailing master with experience of those waters would be a plus.
Sailors. This experiment with undead may work, but I will need sailors whose nerves do not break. Or at least ones that trust me to handle the thing.
Supplies. Food, febrifuges, other medical equipment. At least the necromantic supplies are already en route. And the Admiral seems to take preparation seriously, which is good. But we will need as much as we can get. With a long voyage south and a defeated fleet at the end, it is unlikely we will be able to resupply quickly from local ports -- the pirates may have sacked our bases down there by now. Overstock, overstock, overstock. And make a note to get some living animals for food - a bullock or two, maybe some horses. I can always animate the skeletons later. Waste not, want not.
Oh, yes. Charts for the Shackles and extra anchors - we may need some in poorly charted waters, or if we have to slip anchor suddenly.
He continues watching Admiral Teip, evaluating his leadership style and attempting to determine what unspoken agenda(s) may be present.
I wonder why he so confident? Yes, a success after the failure of others will look much better in the after action reports to Admiralty. But if one of them succeeds before he even gets there... That will look very bad indeed. And if he is so sure they will fail, why doe he think we will succeed? This makes no sense... unless... maybe he has info the other admirals do not. That could be rough if anyone finds out he withheld crucial information from the Navy causing the loss of two fleets. There is something swimming unseen beneath us in these deep waters.
He took the long pause and smiled looking at you all, it was clear he was studying you an almost knowing smirk on his lips.
"No doubt many of you are wondering why I am so confident as to why we will succeed and they will fail. I've made it a habit of studying my foes and my friends alike, because knowledge is a very ... subtle and addictive form of power."
He began rising from his desk. His height was clearly magnified now that he stood, as was how thin and almost gaunt he was. He stepped from around the desk and stood in front of you for now.
" We will succeed and My actions, through you of course will gain the eye of those above us. They make the mistake of going seeking glory in action, through battle and blood... I go to secure lands and ports, to extend the arm of the admirality. I have a piratical port in mind for our first target... but thats for the briefing this evening. For now return to your ships, get your request forms in line, get them filled out, I will have them expidited. If you have further questions speak with my secretary outside.... you are all dismissed."
He began offering you all a quick salute letting you all shuffle out.
Seizing a base is an important first step, Stefan thinks, but is it possible without first defeating the pirate fleets? Well, those are the orders ... a bad briefing, though. Not enough details.
He salutes the Admiral and strides out, stopping by the secretary's to set up a further appointment tomorrow morning if possible. "After I have finished inspecting my ship, and received further orders." Another small coin passes to the secretary by way of reminder and gratitude. As Mother said, 'Never be rude... unintentionally'. And the secretaries of the great have much more influence with them than most people think.
Recovering Andreas in the lobby, he sets out for the docks to inspect his ship, Abrogail's Resolve, find out who his officers are, and rally the crew.
I've heard almost nothing about her, save that maybe she's some kind of transport -- no time to hunt up the files on her, I'll have to ask Fillipo later.
Meanwhile, Sestandantilus sneaks through the ship during these interviews (so not available to aid during them), listening for any signs of disaffection among the crew, too many rats on board, or anything else that needs to be done. Sesty takes 10 on Stealth for 25 and has a +9 Perception to notice whatever the DM thinks a familiar might become aware of.
Andreas gets sent running on errands all over the place, depending on results of inspection and interviews, but is around to provide a ceremonial drumroll for the speech, hopefully aiding it with a Perform check for properly impressive music and ceremony.
Malen offered a crisp salute to the Admiral upon being dismissed, but rolled his eyes as he walked out the door. All that flash and hubbub...Admiral Tiep seemed awfully pleased with himself. Still, if the man's plans worked out it could mean good things for Malen's career, so he was willing to play along. Not that he had much choice in the matter, but feigning a modicum of free will made the young man feel better about things.
As they stepped out of the room, the young captain made his way over to the secretary only to find that Mathur had made it there first. No big surprise there...he was a methodical man. Occasionally he overthought things though...like on that pirate-hunting trip to Sargava those years ago. After the Captain had died Stefan had pondered what protocol to follow. When he had made his mind up he had found that Malen had already taken the opportunity to bring the other officers into his fold.
Still, Stefan was very capable and ruthless in his own way. Malen would have to be careful when dealing with him. As the other captain stepped away, the blond man made an appointment to see the Admiral, more as a formality than any real reasoning. He figured they'd be getting more detailed orders soon enough, and if not, well then that was the kind of chaos Malen thrived in.
The young Captain snapped his fingers behind him, signaling Morrigyn that it was time to depart back to the Impeccable. When she hurried to comply it cooled the heat within him somewhat, but he still felt the humiliation of having to salute the Admiral until being released from doing so. He raised a thin blond brow, glancing at her sidelong, "I suppose you think yourself high these days, don't you? I have to sit there and grovel for Tiep while you watch with amusement in your eyes. We'll see who gets the last laugh, b&#~$." Malen's voice never rose, but the menace behind it was palpable, and he meant every word of it.
He held out his hand for hers, taking a creamy pale hand in his own. He patted it with his free hand, a charming smile suddenly cropping up on his face. "But that's for later. Now we need to tell the crew that their shore leave is just about up. And then you can help me make preparations for our voyage. Perhaps you can even earn yourself back into my good graces..," Malen chuckled, his voice pleasant enough though the redhead knew better than to hope for such a thing.
As the meeting wrapped up Morrigyn began putting away the writing implements and book up. Her movements were crisp and efficient as befitted her training in the officer's academy and then later the medical training, and she was ready just as they were dismissed.
As they left the room she adopted her normal position, behind and to the right of Malen, and walked with him, waiting patiently as he spoke to the receptionist. She wondered what he was thinking of and it didn't take her much effort to realize that it was Stefan. She remembered Stefan rather fondly herself, he was nice to her when she left officer training and entered the medical profession and the "incident" and then later when they all three served under the same captain in Sargova.
Morrigyn didn't realize just how much her thoughts distracted her until she heard Malen snap his fingers at her. She came out of her musings and quickly hurried to him, her face flushing in embarrassment as she respond, "I'm sorry Sir." As they began to leave and Malen expressed his irritation at her she knew that she was in for a rough time later if something didn't change his mood. She resolved to do everything that she could as he tended to be very...rough when he was mad.
She reached out to take his hand when he reached for it and felt a slight wash of relief that she might be able to mollify him. The charming smile he had on his face made her very nervous but she nodded in response to his words and said, "Yes Sir. What would you have me do?" She could tell from his tone that there was likely no mollifying him but she would try her best.
Nebdel leaves the office with the others. He then comes back to make an appointment with the secretary when no others are around.
He then stops by the Church and makes another covert appointment with his superiors within the clergy.
Stefan stops briefly at a small chapel of the Church of Asmodeus on the way to the harbor, pausing to admire the frescoes of the Dread Lord's struggle against the forces of chaos -- chaining pirates, burning sea monsters alive with unholy fire, restraining storms -- and offers up a quick prayer for success in the forthcoming mission.
Then he steps into the office behind the chapel to write a few quick requisitions for the Admiral.
Most Mighty Admiral Teip of the Queen's Navy:
As a preliminary requisition for the ship I have the honor to command, and which you have been graciously pleased to have assigned to me under you in the 4th Fleet, pending further examination of the state of ship and stores, may it please you to direct the following to be sent aboard the Abrogail's Revenge:
From the Navigation Office: The latest maps and charts for the Shackles, the coast of Sargava, and all other areas in which you are planning to direct operations, together with sailing directions for the harbors in this area.
From the Surgeon's Office: A full chest of febrifuges and other remedies for the known diseases of Sargava and the Shackles, in accordance with the additional regulations for the good health of Her Majesty's sailors in tropical areas, in addition to the standard chest of drugs and instruments for the health and discipline of sailors.
From the Victualling Office: Two extra bow anchors, and two stern anchors, for the ship, to be stowed below upon arrival. Cables for the same. A full set of sail canvas treated for tropical mold prevention and strengthened against storms.
May it also please your Mightiness to assign to the ship a master skilled in navigation and familiar with the waters of the Shackles, and an additional chaplain for discipline of the souls aboard and with the proper talents for mastery of the undead, and such other officers as may be suitable in your judgment for the advancement of Her Majesty's service and the glorious success of Chellish arms.
He paused. Let's not lay it on too thick; the Admiral seems the sort to care about results and plain speaking rather than be too impressed by high-flown compliments. He'll understand that I'm offering to employ some of his favorite lieutenants. Quid pro quo. He thought for a minute.
May I also beg your Mightiness' leave to carry on the ship's muster roll such servants and sailors as are customary at sea for a captain's entourage, and available for service?
He nodded. 'Customary' cloaks a multitude of possibilities, and with his approval I should be able to pry loose some sailors I know and trust, besides adding a few of my own retainers to the list. And his response will let me see how careful the Admiral is at bureaucratic manipulation, too. No point in asking for things I know I will be denied ... or not asking for things I might be able to sneak by.
He looks up from signing and sealing the leter to the patiently waiting drummer by his side. "Andreas, please carry this to the Admiral's secretary. Meet me dockside by the ship in -- one hour." Once Andreas is out the door, Stefan pens a brief note and quietly inserts it into an unobtrusive slot in the wall, a box for such missives as should be conveyed secretly to superiors in the church.
Please inform me of the Church's will towards Admiral Teip, those surrounding him, and the mission he is currently involved in, so that I may arrange all to happen as our Dread Lord's servants may desire.
He sighs and glances at his hands. ”If you investigate this quietly, do you think you can find the head of this...conspiracy?”
Casarus salutes the admiral at the end of the meeting. As the other officers filter out of the room, Casarus approaches the admiral. ”Admiral Teip, I want to offer my sincerest apologies for being late once again, sir,” he says. ”Will you take the standard disciplinary action?” He stands at attention, gaze focused on the admiral’s forehead.
He waits to speak with the secretary, not wanting to waste time leaving and then returning. When it’s his turn, he greets the officer and asks, ”How many days worth of stores will we need? Do you know what the expected first port of call is?”
After acquiring the requisition forms he needed, he returns to his ship, Bezrieul’s Gaze. Time moves too quickly. Checking his inventory manifest with the quartermaster, deciding how many supplies they need and all the other logistics required to get the ship ready for departure. Hours spent determing his ship’s seaworthiness as well as the state of his crew. Eventually he realizes he’s skipped lunch and goes to a tavern for a mid-afternoon pork pie and glass of beer.
Stefan nods slowly as Casarus speaks. "We must consider the best interests of the Navy here. Brave men, and pirates' foes, are worth preserving, if it can be done." He turns through the Regulations again, obviously thinking hard. Finally he stands and looks out the window towards the dockyards. Then he turns back to the desk.
"We have to arrest Gaienix, no question. Too many forged manifests, too much evidence of smuggling. If the court is merciful he may merely be condemned to the galleys." A toss of the hand suggests the unlikelihood of mercy in a Chelaxian naval court. "Perhaps Maxillus may be protected by someone higher up. Or perhaps his contact is outside the Navy -- a collector, a noble, a dealer in fine wines, a heretic -- or perhaps he has many contacts. Or... perhaps they are Gaienix's contacts, and the captain was merely bamboozled by an old friend. If so, it would be a black mark against him, a small scandal, but not a breaking offense." He looks keenly as Casarus, and Sestantantilus uncoils a quarter-length from the chair arm and sways up, looking at the half-elf as well, both with a keen and focused look in their eyes, weighing, judging, evaluating.
"Would this satisfy your need for justice, and the Navy's need to clean house? If we went to Captain Maxillus I am sure he could reveal quite a few of Gaienix's contacts, and he would be likely to keep a sharper eye on his ship in the future. Just as the Victualling Office would keep a closer eye on him. I suspect he might even be grateful towards two lieutenants who made sure the scandal did not spread widely. He might not want you on his ship afterwards -- it's always hard to face someone across the table who deprived you of a friend -- but he might recommend you, with credit, to another ship." Stefan smiles again, and brings up another folder from his bottom drawer. "I had a clerk bring me your record. You're not a timeserver, nor a weak man trying to cover up failure by accusing his superior. I think Captain Maxillus will be willing to invest a little in your career in return... for the Navy's good."
Stefan looks a little surprised as Nebdel comes in the door. "Fancy meeting you here! What kinds of supplies are you laying in for the trip? I've been down there before and have some experience with what doesn't keep well in those waters..."
Sestandantilus' investigations bring nothing of note there are certainly not too many rats. nor are there no rats, minus a brief almost terror filled moment where he had to slither into some crates to avoid a freaked out paranoid sailor trying to stomp him, from the snakes panic it would be assumed that when you gather the crew you introduce the mascot so to speak? He doesnt detect much except the normal nervous energy that is usually there when a ship takes on a new commanding officer. There is still a large amount of dockworkers carrying on supplies while you are giving your welcome speech whom arent under your direct command.
Abrogail's Resolve
This large ship of the line is one of the newer vessal's within the 4th fleet. The large 3 and a half masted ship stand impressive in the harbor and you could already see more than a dozen sailors being directed by a Naval Captain along the dockwards. After a moment you recognize her as one of the harbormasters aides. Her reputation is as the strict one.
"No no no you blasted fool does this ship look like it has trebuchet's on its deck that ammunition goes to dock four. Dock four!"
She yelled at a dockworker punctuating her words with the crack of a cat'o nine tails... just missing the worker but cracking loudly and making him jump quickly saluting as he hurried away. With barely a glance torwards you she returned back to her list.
" Loading is proceeding ahead of schedule by a quarter bell, anything you require Captain?"
She asked never taking her eyes off the workers or sailors.
The Admiral was silent for a long long long while leaving you to no doubt sweat it out. Finally after a moment and everyone else had left he returned the salute and nodded torwards a side table where there was a porcelin pot and some cups.
"Refill my drink, and pour yourself one if you take tea. For now Let us not worry over punishment. You have potential, a chance to go far in this Navy... if you learn to be punctual and stay patient. I knew your father, he was a decent man, good sailor. We were sailing near the eye almost 28 years ago when he dove in front of a pirate about to stab me in the back. Didnt hesitate."
He began his voice a tab bit distant as he recalled old memories.
"To answer your questions, the ships are being provisioned with 3 months of voyage time, along with additional stores for the marine attachements being added to each ship. The morning breifing will be more detailed but lets just say an old nemisis has managed to make himself something of a pirate lord out there and his little haven will be the first to be crushed. Speaking of which, there is a young captain, affiliated deeply with the church whom will be assigned to your ship, If there are any prize ships taken along the way he will be the first to placed in charge of it, you will have double the crew until then."
At the port you find yourself trying to track down officer in charge of dock four... mostly because when you arrive all you could see of your ship was scaffolding cranes and dock workers swarming everywhere. Two large wooden platforms, looking very bulbous were being assembled on the Gaze, one on both the port and starboard sides of our vessal. From what you could see the carpentry work was almost finished, you could see two very large trebuchet's frames on the docks the crane's workers appeared to be moving it into position to take one of those frames now.
AS the others were dismissed the Admiral called out to you by name asking that you wait for just a moment, as the others filed out he waited for the room to clear then he spoke.
"Captain Elrox, Your record is impeccable I was delighted to see your request to serve aboard The Penitence come across my desk however I can not accept you to that posting....
He began sternly.
"Not from a lack of worth, merely that I have a much more important posting that will better serve the admirality in this mission. The Other fleets think that sailing into the shackles and hunting pirates will earn them the Queen's favor... and it might, but our mission is one of conquest. I have 300 marines that are to be scattered aboard the ships sailing for the shackles and you will be in charge of those marines. We are going to scourge and clear those islands of the pirate. port by port, haven by haven and you will be the fist of the Queen in this, and the flail of our lord ASmodeous. DO you accept this posting?"
He asked with a slight smile.
"Thank you for your fine service in keeping the loading going, ma'am. I'll be having personal supplies brought for stowage in my cabin. What time would be convenient for you to receive them? Also, I'd like to see the manifest so I'm aware what supplies are aboard. You never know, plans may change, and I would rather not be caught ordering a larger supply of something we already have enough of."
Stefan doesn't introduce Sestandantilus to anyone -- he figures the gossip network will take care of that soon enough, and he would prefer that people not be sure whether the viper is a pet, or a familiar, or perhaps tame devil, or .. who knows what?
This is a very impressive ship for a first command... well, not really first, but first assigned command. Stefan, mind still swimming with possibility, looks over the ship's weapon assortment and starts considering what he knows of tactics... which, come to think of it, is not nearly as much what he knows of naval bureaucracy. Time to find the Queen's Instructions for Fighting Ships...
You would know that basically this Ship is one of the larger vessels on the sea and that the standard tactic is to get within range and destroy things with your weaponry. Despite being so large with the winds are your back your are hard to outrun, The problems come in chasing smaller vessels when the wind conditions are not favorable. However, your ship is a bit modified from being the standard Ship of the line, you have less guns for instance but larger crew quarters for both the living ...and undead marines you will have on your ship.
As he and Morrigyn walked along the docks towards The Impeccable, Malen became sullen and introspective. He had made his appointment time with the Admiral before noon, so he wouldn't have much time to dawdle before making his way back to The Admiralty. Gods but he hated dealing with those above him in the chain of command. Being out at sea was often droll, but at least he was master of his own dominion during those long stretches of time.
As they strolled his gaze moved to the redhead at his side, the blonde man's eyes narrowing suspiciously. This opportunity would be the perfect time for her to muck up his steady rise to the top, if she was so inclined. The young man knew he was likely being paranoid, and he physically shook his head to dispel the thought for now.
Forcing a handsome smile onto his face, he spoke to his comely companion. "I'll speak to the crew for a moment, but I am due back to meet with Teip soon so I'll be leaving the preparations for departure to you. Make sure the hull is sound and there are plenty of tar and boards for repairs. It sounds like we'll be getting in the thick of things, so best to go overboard, do you understand? Have everyone check their equipment so that replacement armaments can be requested as needed. And give me the names of those who are slow to carry out orders. I'll need a couple of examples before we set sail."
As the pair reached the platform to walk onto the screen ship, Malen grasped Morrigyn's hand and pulled her up to walk beside him, a large grin on his face as they stepped onto the deck. Seeing the sailors milling about, he called out in a strong voice, "Gather your fellows, and be swift about it!"
Once all the crew is assembled, the young captain continued, "We soon set sail for the glory of Cheliax and the Fourth Fleet. We will have more detailed orders soon, but we must be ready to depart. I go to meet with the Admiral himself to receive our orders, so Morrigyn here will help guide you. Listen to her words as though they were my own. Those of you who have sailed with me before know that there is much reward to be had for loyal, obedient service. For those who are new to The Impeccable, learn from these others, and quickly, for I will not suffer dissent of any kind."
Malen eyed Morrigyn for a moment, wishing he had time to take her to the Captain's cabin and have his way with her for a spell, but there was no time. He instead just nodded to her, offering a brief, mocking salute before making his way back to his meeting.
----------------------------------
Malen walked into the Admiral's office with a confident gait, head held high and shoulders erect. Maintaining a composed demeanor was absolutely necessary for a commanding officer, and it would serve him well here, as well. He offered a salute as was expected, then patiently awaited the Admiral to start the briefing.
So, a large ship - but equipped more as a transport than a warship. Will the Admiral be aboard her as well? She's certainly suited to be a flagship. Still, the captain's cabin was his!
Stefan sat back in a chair -- his chair! -- and thought deeply. The crew seemed calm, the officers ambitious but not excessively so; nothing much was out of order; the supplies being loaded were more than enough for a voyage to the Shackles. No coffee yet, but his personal supplies were being packed for loading.
A shortage of lieutenants - I must see who can reasonably be trained or trusted as watch officers from among the master's mates. And transport of undead would be difficult, especially in mass. I can control perhaps a score; we must ensure that they do not break free or threaten the men. Probably iron bars in the hold, and a cage fitted with two doors, into which we can call the ones we wish to bring out. Perhaps a ship's wizard can make repairs in that area with unseen servants if necessary - do we HAVE a ship's wizard?
Stefan doodles some quick thoughts as to a watch schedule, but quickly realizes that will have to wait until he knows the various petty officers a little bit better and gets a full muster book.
Interview the quartermaster, get the state of the stores, see if any supplementary requisitions are needed. If not, congratulate the first lieutenant and quartermaster on a job well done. And find out how long before we are ready to sail... the Admiral will want to know.
Stefan proceeds about the business of ensuring the Abrogail's Revenge is ready to sail.
Elrox gave a salute. "Yes, sire." Refusal did not cross his mind - even if it had, it would not mean much. The orders were clear. "It would be my greatest honor. The pirates are but scum that dare walk upon the Earth we too stand on, and make mockery of society with their gangs."
"If you would grant me the permission, I would like to meet these marines myself - while I have no doubt they will fulfill their duties, I would like no... temporary hesitation."
Morrigyn walked with Malen in silence as they headed towards the ship. She let him process and plan, he was good at it, and avoided drawing his attention as they went. When he finally did speak to her Morrigyn paid rapt attention to what he said as she always did and when he finished she replied, "I'll get the chief carpenter's report on the state of the ship and any needed maintenance, the cook submit requests for any needs for the larder, and have them both submit reports to me and have them give the quartermaster the needed requisition forms. I'll also have the officers watching the crew and submit lists of any issues they see for you as well." She thought for a moment as they walked, her heals click clacking on the cobblestones and then the boards of the wharf, saying "I'll also go through our medical supplies and fill out the forms needed to replenish them." As they stopped before the plank leading up to the ship she looked at Malen and asked, "Are there any other special stores that you need put in?" She made a mental note of anything he needed special ordered and then accepted his hand as they walked on deck.
As the sailors finally gathered Morrigyn assumed her normal place beside and behind Malen. She had made the change from her normal dress into something a bit more suitable for shipboard. The main change was that she now wore flat soled footwear suitable to being shipboard and had changed her skirt out for a pair of very tight fitting breaches that hugged every curve of her hips, rear, and legs, and had a dagger sheathed at her side. She eyed the crew as her Master spoke and noted a few who looked like they might be trouble, all new crewmen, and made a mental note to have the officers watch them. When the speech was done she felt Malen's hungry gaze on her and looked at him with longing before he turned and left the ship.
With the captain gone she looked back at the crew and Morrigyn said to them all, "Alright I want all of your gear inspected between loading any arriving supplies on the ship, if you have anything you need I have the requisition forms on the outside of the Captain's Cabin. Take them, use them, if you don't and you turn out to be needing something it will be grounds for disciplinary action. Illiteracy is no excuse, you can come to myself or your direct superior for assistance for now, later you will be expected to learn to write for yourself and education will be provided in at least the bare minimum you need to know." She had relaxed her posture somewhat after Malen had left and now seemed to be at ease. "Officers, you've all been through this before and you know what to do, if you need me for anything I will be in my usual place going over the medical supplies." She looked around once more at the gathered crew and nodded in dismissal as she crisply turned and gestured for the Quartermaster to lead her down to his office and get the requisition forms so she could put them where they needed to be.
Captain Casarus, I have been assigned to lead your marines aboard Bezrieul’s Gaze. I will of course see to their readiness. Do you have any other specific orders at this time?
It was late afternoon before the rapid loading halted for a time, while the dockmaster waited for more wagons to arrive. The smell of the harbor, of gulls and salt water and city sewage, was comfort to the more experienced sailors, and the fickle breezes brought a mixture of scents from land and sea across the decks, where canvas windscoops brought the air below.
Stefan seized the opportunity to order a full assembly. The waist of the ship was filled, but scantily, and the men looked uneasily at each other. Even the newer sailors knew that a ship of the line had a crew twice the size or more of the numbers mustered. Still, midshipmen got their sailors into something resembling order, and the officers waited while the new captain paced up and down the ranks, looking into the eyes of man after man, nodding occasionally, and dictating occasional notes to his clerk.
He ended at the wheel, beside the assembled lieutenants, then stood to face the men. From behind him, Andreas' drums trilled a rapid call to order, a fanfare of obedience. He raised one hand for silence, and it fell, broken only by the squawking of gulls swooping through the rigging.
"We are Abrogail's Revenge", he told the crew, and took a breath. "We are the ship named for our fair and mighty queen. We are the vengeance she sends upon her foes. We are all keel-owners " -- the first crew of a newly commissioned ship -- "and in the days to come, the Navy will be proud of us. The nation will be proud of us. The Queen herself will be proud of us."
He gestures to the flag draped over the binnacle, the naval war banner, and touches it briefly with a barbed ruby pentacle, the symbol of Asmodeus.
.
"And I know this, because you will be well-trained and do your duty. Our Dread Lord's eye is on us all, to punish the slacker and the coward, but the Queen's hand is open to reward valor and success. I started below decks, under orders. I followed orders and did my duty, and the Queen's hand came down to bless me, to sign my officer's commission." Though they needn't know the details of a really messy trial and a lot of Church string-pulling! He paused, letting his eyes go up and down the ranks, trying to appear to meet each man's gaze. "We sail against the enemies of Cheliax, against pirates who enrich themselves by preying on our shipping, and who by this declare themselves our lawful prey! Our Dread Lord's blessing is on us for this, and His curse upon our foes. We will deliver it, and send them all to their deserved reward, of fire and death and darkness!" His voice rises to an exultant pitch, then resumes in a subtle soft whisper.
"... if we do our duty. You are sailors; you know already our ceaseless battle against the unrelenting sea, and the need for every man to do his best, lest he endanger all the rest. Every one of us must make it work. The Admiral will give me orders, and I will obey them and order the officers. They will give you orders, and you will carry them out with heart and soul and spirit, with all your wit and will. My eye is keen to reward good service, and swift to punish slackness. If we do our duty, we will gorge ourselves on pirates' plunder. We will crush them! We will drive them before us! We will hear their lamentations! On that day, we will not just be the keel-owners of this ship, of Abrogail's Revenge. We will ourselves be our Queen's revenge!"
He holds them all for a minute, spellbound. "And then... then we will return home, lucky and famous, wealthy and victorious. Men have founded houses, opened shops, bought their own ships, with the rewards the Navy gives -- that the Queen gives -- for valor and victory and success. And some of them have done even better. Some have risen high, to stand among the great."
For a minute he looks out over the silent crowd, gauging the effect of his words. Oh, they all know of the odds, of all the seaman's deaths. But I think enough will listen, and remember. 'Set ambition in men's hearts; ambition is a whip that does not cease.'
"Dis-missed!"
Andreas' drum beat a quick tattoo of dismissal, and men hurried back to their tasks, hauling and loading, checking lines and stays, and Stefan nodded to the officers. "Ser Malvoglio, you and I are expected at the Admiral's evening briefing. I will stop by the Victualling Office on the way to hasten the supplies our driving dockmaster is waiting for." Maybe if they slack, I can press some of them for sea-service... "Sera Maretto, you have the watch. Carry on." He nodded, and went below.
Andreas was waiting in the cabin, case packed and a folder of order forms under his arm. Sestandantilus coiled on the table, bulging around the middle. "Watch the cabin, Sesty," he ordered -- several cases of private supplies had already been delivered.
And now for the Victualling Office again. Dread Lord, but I'm glad to have the whip hand over them this time!
"Have your personal items at the edge of the dock by...5th bell if you want the dockworkers to get to it before you all ship off in the morning, I'll have a junior officer there waiting for it,"
She began curt enough offering the barest of smiles for just a split second before she half turned once more whip leading her voice remarkable much rougher in dealing with the dock hands than you.
"Thats not a cask for sitting on, If you dont get a move ona nd get that stowed properly aboard that ship I swear to Asmodeus I will tie you to and light the blast thing on fire."
She growled stalking torwards the men taking an unscheduled break.
The office of the imperial Quartermaster of the Chellish Navy was a gaudily extravagent thing, though if the rumors were true none of the navies funds had been used for it.The current "admiral' in charge of it was Count Admiral Albrecht Napaciza, the third son of House Napaciza, known as one of the earlier families to get behind Thrune. In a way it was strange you were even in his office, you had no more came to the Quartermaster office, a large spacious stone building overlooking the docks from the northern side, than the captain at the desk of the Victualing office whisked you upstairs to wait.
A young woman in a servants attire... so very simular to the standard marine dress clothing slipped into the empty office where you were waiting and asked if you needed anything to drink and to inform you the Count Admiral would be right up before leaving you in a modest yet comfortable chair looking staight at a solid and exquisate darkwood desk... while no expert you were pretty sure that thing was worth a years wages at the least . . .
Malen walked into the Admiral's office with a confident gait, head held high and shoulders erect. Maintaining a composed demeanor was absolutely necessary for a commanding officer, and it would serve him well here, as well. He offered a salute as was expected, then patiently awaited the Admiral to start the briefing.
There was only a short wait outside the Admiral's office before you were lead in by a harried looking lieutenant into the admirals office. The moment you stepped inside you could hear the Admiral's voice call out.
"Dismissed Lieutenant Avillo, find me those maps!"
He said his voice not holding anger in it... but a sternness that lead you Malen to believe that the lieutenant whom led you into the office was currently not in the admiral's good graces.
"At ease Captain Arturian, come join me here."
He began half turning from the large table he stood by that had easily a half dozen maps sprawled atop it. on the far corner of the table was a series of leather bound books, all closed but for the one on the top.
"Your file."
He began pointing to the top leather bound book curtly.
"Suggests that you have all the makings of a great officer, However I've also noticed a pattern within you last four commands. More importantly... others have noticed a pattern."
He began sounding stern He reached over and pulled up s wooden carving of a ship, one of eight lying there, upon inspection it was a very close copy of your own vessel. He handed it to you.
"You were slated to be removed from the sea while secret investigations into your ...unlucky history began. You are a man of action, of boldness and I will need those very traits in this endevor."
He began stepping away from the table, on the largest of the two maps he were several bright red circles over large ports in the shackles.
"Because of your boldness I am having several things of import placed within your vessel... you will have the finest unit of marines currently under my command aboard your vessel. . . your old cannon are being replaced with newly forged long eights and... my personal ships' mage best apprentance is being assigned to you., you would do well to see that she is not harmed somehow Almadoz the Blue, has been known to transform upstart lieutenants into swine and toss them overboard for the sharks...with my permission of course."
He began his fatherly smile was cold.He stared at you with a cold peircing gaze.
It was clear he was aware some some of your movement....upwards wasnt luck and talent, and it was also clear that he was having none of that ambition ruining his grand plan. His cold gaze then softened and he smiled.
"But as I said your talents are something I value and there is no need to threaten such a talented officer. The other admirals go to when glory in battle I am sending a fleet to conquer their cities their ports and turn them into bastions for the empire... Tell me Captain Arturian have you ever been the military governor of a island port? I certainly can see the value of a naval officer in charge of our... of the Queen's interests in the Shackles...
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Elrox gave a salute. "Yes, sire." Refusal did not cross his mind - even if it had, it would not mean much. The orders were clear. "It would be my greatest honor. The pirates are but scum that dare walk upon the Earth we too stand on, and make mockery of society with their gangs."
"If you would grant me the permission, I would like to meet these marines myself - while I have no doubt they will fulfill their duties, I would like no... temporary hesitation."
"Indeed I will have one of the lieutenant's about guide you to your marines. Normally there would be a ceremony involved with the change in command, but in this case I simply dont have the time. Commodore Salcin will be handling that."
He began and a handwave brought a young woman over in an lieutenant's dress. She quickly saluted the admiral than hastened to stand behind you to the left.
"Dismissed Captain, there isnt a lot of time, but if you have any needs for your marines write it here on this sheet and get it turned into the quartermaster's office as soon as possible."
He began handing you a scroll, one you saw that was already signed and sealed with his signet ring, a large big eyed owl.
"You will be aboard the Abrogail's revenge with Captain Mathur, he has requested a meeting this evening at eight bell's, I would like for you to be there as well captain."
He paused looking at you both and gave a slight nod before a curt
"dismissed"
Returning your salutes before returning to the leather bound book in front of him frowning.
"If you will follow me captain Elrox"
The woman lieutenant began spinning on her heels and leading the way from the building and out of the Admiralitie's office leading the way down towards the port.
"They will be here by 4 bells," Stefan tells the dockmaster, admiring her technique of handling the men. "I still need a copy of the manifest and of the supplies scheduled to be loaded, though." Because if we are sailing tomorrow then I have almost no time to get any additions to the supplies. The Admiral is in a hurry! "The blessing of Our Dread Lord be upon you and your efforts."
Tomorrow!?
He snags one of the dockboys waiting around and gives him a copper (or two) to send a quick message to his rooms, directing his servant to get everything packed and moved to the docks immediately.
Stefan spends a little time admiring the furnishing, but his mind is busy thinking over his officers and how to use them. A long voyage south, but that should give us time to get at least a few midshipmen in shape to stand a watch. We are all going to be wildly overworked -- only five watchstanders on a ship this size, and I'm going to be spending a fair amount of time directing the skeleton crews, unless another chaplain gets shipped. Malvoglio and Maretto seem good and eager, Doria is a bit of a weak point but I suppose appearing a naval family is worth ti... Orcia may need careful handling from what I saw of her."
Almost against his will is eye is drawn back to his opulent surroundings. One of these days I will have an office like this... He had expected to be sent through a series of clerks, and knew how to handle them. To be escorted into the office of the Imperial Quartermaster is a bit of a shock. Well, I suppose a mission at the Queen's direct command will attract attention. He begins thinking through his list of additional requisitions, writing them down one by one.
Iron cages in the hold, for the undead and maybe for prisoners later. At least one needs to be able to hold birds or similar-sized creatures.
Choking shot for the weapons - some gas clouds on board enemy ships will do much to ease their capture.
A full chest of onyx and powdered silver and other necromantic supplies - after all, that project has been approved. We should already have a chapel on board dedicated to Our Dread Lord - it's in the Regulations for all ships of this class -- but carrying along a large supply of extra bones and skeletons would be useful for replacing casualties and animating extra assaulters.
Two or three extra boats - if we carrying marines we need to be able to land them all quickly, and there's room in the waist if we stack them inside each other. Pull a few from other ships if necessary for speed.
The ship's carpenter can fashion siege ladders and rams and other gear, and we can dismount some of the ship's weapons if necessary, but a few cases of picks and shovels and axes and spikes would be very handy for engineering operations and siege warfare. The marines might not be thinking of that if they don't have an engineer assigned.
A shadow of a smile crept onto Malen's face as the Admiral interacted with the poor lieutenant who had led him inside the office, growing a bit wider as the younger man hurried off to do Teip's bidding. He was glad to be out of those stages of his career, being nothing but a glorified secretary.
His smile vanished as he dropped his salute and joined the Admiral at the table, casually glancing at the maps scattered about until the man indicated his personnel record. Malen's shrewd eyes briefly flitted over the dossier, but he kept his cool since the Admiral's actions hadn't seemed hostile yet. A frown cropped up soon as the older man spoke of his last commands and the suspicions that had arisen from the untimely demise of those ahead of him in command. The young captain's heart started to beat faster, his face calm while he fought his body's fight or flight reflex.
As the Admiral mentioned him being removed from command, but then spoke of boldness, Malen's interest was piqued, the young man calming down. If the Admiral didn't have a use for him, he would have just had him confined until the details were sorted out. The young captain kept his gaze carefully neutral as the Admiral spelled out his plans on conquest. The new cannons would be an excellent addition, but he internally grimaced as Teip told him of the minder he would have on board. Having a haughty wizard on board wasn't exactly Malen's idea of a good time, but all things being considered it wasn't the end of the world. Looking at the Admiral's knowing gaze, Malen knew it could have possibly been much worse.
As the Admiral spoke of governing of the conquered ports, one of Malen's blonde brows arched in interest. "No sir, I have never had any position of authority beyond a vessel. Though I admit to being intrigued by such a possibility, if the Queen and the Admiralty were to wish it so. I shall see to preparing for our departure and see that your ship's apprentice wizard is shown to her new quarters, if there is nothing further, sir."
If there wasn't anything further, the captain saluted the Admiral in a crisp manner, then turned on his heel and exited the office, breathing out a sigh of relief. A grin quickly crept onto his face as he strode back to The Impeccable, his mind on the future. Governor Arturian had a nice ring to it...
As Malen walked along the docks towards the moorings of The Impeccable, he thought over strategy. Specifically, land-based strategy. The only combat (beyond personal) he had participated in had been ship to ship combat. He was an intelligent man, but he might want to query his officers to see if any had served in the infantry or some other similar capacity.
Once the blonde man made it back to the ship he walked onto the deck with practiced ease, his legs easily adjusting to the gentle swells of the ship in the water. He had quick conversations with any officers and crew that were nearby, but once he caught Morrigyn's eye, he nodded to the door of the Captain's cabin and entered, waiting on her in the dim lighting.
When the redhead made her way in, Malen gestured to the chair opposite him. "Just had an interesting talk with the Admiral today. Seems that you weren't as clever about some of our plans as I thought you'd be. Thankfully the man's ambition outweighs his sense of justice, or I could possibly be swinging from a gallows right now. What do you think about that?" Malen got up from his chair, moving to stand behind her, putting a calloused hand on her shoulder in a gesture that from most would mean support and understanding.
Is it known if the Grand Admiral was captured or killed? Similarly were the ships/equipment under his command captured or sunk? If not known, it may be worth an investment of some time by the church to seek divine answers.
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Captain Casarus, I have been assigned to lead your marines aboard Bezrieul’s Gaze. I will of course see to their readiness. Do you have any other specific orders at this time?
** spoiler omitted **
As she was about to reach the exit from the building something drew her attention towards the side where Stefan was. Seeing that he man's attention was focused she decided to do something mischievous and began to move quietly up behind him. It was times like this when the somewhat ornery woman she used to be showed herself as she moved in stealthily for some surprise groping.
Morrigyn felt Malen's presence on deck like she always did, an unexplainable pull that drew her gaze to him. She caught his nod towards his cabin and went to follow him in seeing the looks the officers gave her as they knew, or suspected, what was going to be going on in there and made to keep the crew busy.
Morrigyn maintained her gaze on Malen and responded to him, "I think he's bluffing Master. I made sure that no direct evidence would lead to either of us but so many deaths, accidents, and disgraces had to make him suspicious. I don't believe he would have let you leave alive if he had proof of it our involvement Master. He'd see you as too big of a threat to his command and life." She looked at him hopefully as she said, "I think he was trying to rattle you and gauge your reaction."