"You're only punished if you're caught stealin'. If you've got it, and nobody saw you take it, then it's yours. That's their way, as far as I've seen. There are rules, but not bein' armed and not havin' a more comfortable sleep ain't them. And you're welcome." She smiles.
Well, if there's no reason to hide these things...
Rougar takes the items out of the blanket and puts them in the pockets of his robe.
So, where should we go to get some food? I haven't had anything to eat since I, um, volunteered.
"Well you might want to hide it, if you don't want it stolen from you. But just being seen with it, no, not a problem. As far as food goes, you missed biscuit, so you'll likely have to wait until evening meal." She looks up at the sky with her hat tilted to shade her eyes from the sun. "Maybe just a few hours 'till then. Usually happens right around dusk. You do look a bit worse for ware. I can help you with the physical pains, but not hunger." With that she begins gesturing her hands, the pipe still smoking and creating a complicated floating sign in the air. Her hand glows a soft blue color and she holds it out to Rougar's shoulder, soothing his aches and bruises.
She starts and looks at something behind Rougar on the deck. "Looks like you've got eyes on you. Might want to get moving again. Been a pleasure, Rouqaresh." She makes off across the deck and resumes moving supplies around, and swabbing the deck.
There are about ten other people moving about the deck, in the rigging, on the poop deck and the fore deck. They all work at different tasks as Mr. Plugg walks patiently between them, stopping occasionally to correct or give further orders. All the while he keeps his hand near his whip. As Rougar watches him for a moment, he sees Rougar and points up towards the high rigging. "Flirtin' time's over, whitefur. Get back to it.
Rougar feels better, both from the healing and from meeting a friend on board. He gives Plugg a nod and ascends the rigging again.
Gill smiles and tucks the knife in his belt.
"Saves me the trouble, onto the fish!"
Gill heads out of the kitchen and makes his way back to the upper deck.
On the upper deck you see Rougar climbing about in the rigging, following orders from Mr. Plugg. Many other pirates scramble about on the deck performing various tasks such as mopping the deck, moving supplies and tending to the lower rigging.
Apparatuses on the side of the boat hold large fishing nets. Gill might be able to figure out how to use it.
Gill scratches his head and begins to fiddle around with the fishing device.
After an hour or so of trying to operate the fishing nets, Gill gets them working, but fails to catch any fish.
Mr. Plugg walks by as Gill is fishing and, seeing his lack of catch, stops and sneers. "Hope you get us somethin' to eat. Failin' at yer duties gets ya' the lash." Then he laughs cruelly.
Gill grumbles and seems frustrated as he tries once again to fish.
"I can't help but get the feeling like you want me to fail...
Gill catches a few pounds of fish in various sizes, but it takes a large portion of the day to do so. By the end, he is sore and tired. The sun begins it's descent in the sky and the world around the ship is darkening slightly.
With the days work complete, Plugg lays off the orders and tells Rougar that he's done for the day. Rougar sees Gill by the nets on the side of the boat. It will be dark in perhaps an hour or so.
Mr. Plugg looks over the pile of fish. "Well, well. Not bad. Best take that catch down to Kroop so he can feed us. With your tasks done for the day, we'll be gettin' near supper. But first punishments get doled out, so hurry back." He grins dubiously.
Gill grumbles an clearly does not enjoy his job. He begins transporting the fish to the kitchen.
By detaching a net Gill is able to haul the fish down in two trips. On his second trip, when he gets into the Galley, Kroop has prepared much of the food and is drinking a bottle of rum.
"Something I need to tell ye, if yer to work with me," He says and pauses to take a long swig. "It's poison, this ship, but don't let anyone hear you say it aloud. The hull listens, see, and the cap'n hears it all. Poison the Wormwood is, though, rotten to the core. You'll not meet a more nasty, sour piece of work than first mate, Mr. Plugg. Vicious little sod, he is. He'd take his own mother's liver to the butcher to make pies with, he would. And the Cap'n. He's mysterious as ever. He's got the stench of dread about 'im, though. I reckon that fella has seen a lot of death, wherever he's from. Never heard more than a word from 'im, but I bet he's got dire plans for us all." At that he takes another long swig and offers some to Gill.
"But they both leave me alone, mostly. They know I can't 'arm 'em."
Gill nods and takes the bottle from Kroop and takes a hearty swig himself. He let's out a sigh of relief as he takes the bottle away from his mouth.
"Naturally anything or anywhere that makes me a slave I'm not thrilled of." Gill licks his chops and looks around at all the food.
"You think I could have alittle of something dried or salted to save for later in the night? I don't think my work was the most horrible."
Gill acts comfortably and roots around the galley a bit.
"Aye. I figure there are three ways you go. One is you get out when you get the chance. The other is that the poison gets to you, and one day you ain't a slave by a pirate yerself." He drinks more rum.
"There be some salt port I made over in that case there. Don't take too much, though, cause we'll be needin' it if we don't make port for a while."
Gill doesn't spot anything more of use aside from the kitchen utensils and raw ingredients.
Rougar makes his way down into the ship searching for the galley. He takes in his surroundings as he searches.
Gill nods. "I don't get sea sick but I never wanted to be a pirate myself. Feel more control on land."
Gill packs the pork into a pouch on his back.
Thank you for the snack. Say what's the deal with that madman outside of the galley? The one tied down."
"Also do we do the food serving as well? I haven't been to any kind of mess hall yet."
"That's Owlbear. He's stone dumb. Scourge keeps 'im about like a pet. Sometimes they use 'im as entertainment. Sometimes as muscle. He can wrestle like a damn snake." He takes the rum back and swigs it.
"You'll be takin' supper and rum ration after punishments. The bloody hour, they call it. At that time everyone comes in here and gets their serving and can eat it anywhere they please. Guess who gets to do the dishes? Yeh, you and I. But we can do it tomorrow. I'll have had enough to drink by then to put me under. Hopefully." He laughs and smacks his belly.
Rougar moves through a small sleeping quarters before descending the stairs to the mid deck. In the mid deck he finds the simpleton chained to the main mast. He seems to have dozed off. A pig wanders about the hold, and another half dozen are oiking in cages. Just as Rougar looks around, Ensra emerges from the stairs, followed by Scourge. Scourge is pulling a third man along on chains. The mans legs are covered in muck, as is his face. He looks exhausted and dismayed, short brown hair covering his eyes in greasy strands. He wears little but rags.
"Hello, Rougar," Ensra says, covered in a bit of dirt and grime. He is holding a bag which squirms about and emanates squeaking noises.
"The bloody hour is upon us," Says scourge with a satisfied look on his face. "All the crew is reportin' to the main deck to watch as punishments are dealt." He looks at the chained man "Or receive."
Rougar nods to Ensra before turning to Scourge.
What did this man do?
"Caught 'im steelin' from the quartermaster's store last night. We don't tolerate theft and you're about to see how we don't." He turns to Ensra and motions his head towards the stairs leading up. "Now both of ye be gettin' on deck. Ain't dun nothin' worth punishin', but I can't wait to put my lash on yer backs." He looks about. "KROOP! SEND THAT NEW MATE OF YERS ON DECK OR HE GETS THE LASH!"
Rougar rubs his grumbling belly as he follows the others up to the deck.
Gill looks startled and gathers his things.
"Well I suppose that's my queue!"
Gill scuttles hurriedly out of the galley and to the upper deck. As he passes Owlbear he smiles and waves followed by his best "Orrink!".
The crew gathers on deck as dusk descends on the Wormwood. The chained man is brought out into the middle of the deck by Scourge and Mr. Plugg, where they begin tying ropes to his arms and legs.
On the poop deck is seen a dark figure, black robe covering its body and a hood over it's head, hiding its face. It stands still and seems to be watching over the crew on deck. "That's the captain." Whispers Sandara, the red haired woman, as she moves to stand near Rougar, Gill and Ensra.
One of the ropes tied to the chained mans arms is thrown over the front of the ship. Scourge turns to the gathering crew.
"For those of you who don't know, Jakes Magpie here was caught stealin' from the quartermaster, the very supplies that we all need. To show our appreciation for this, he WILL BE KEELHAULED!" Much of the crew cheers in agreement. At that, Scourge grins. There is also much murmuring from the non-cheering crew.
Among the crew are a mustachioed gnome with a purple wide brimmed hat, eye patch and matching purple coat, a human with a blue bandanna wrapped about his head and small skull-looking earrings and a small goatee. There is a shoeless light colored female human, another gnome, bedraggled and with one eye, a rat-faced hafling with long arms, a female human joking ignorantly with another regular looking man. There is an old pale woman with only strips of gray hair, a very tall and dark skinned female human, a brooding female human with noticably large ears, a fat pompous looking man with a shaved head, a pale green half-orc off by himself, a hulking, scowling dark skinned man, a tanned woman with an uneasy look in her eyes and an older man with a large ugly nose. Lastly a female halfling stands out, with long brown hair, gold hoop earrings and a red scarf about her neck.
After a few minutes, the large nosed man returns with a rope from the back of the ship, dripping with water. That rope is tied to the rope tied around Jakes' feet, connecting the rope around the bottom of the ship.
"Now, since yer treachery, we let the Sea B&$!* 'ave ya'." Scourge says.
Jakes appears to have surrendered. His body hangs from the chains and rope like a limp puppet, and his face is dark, his eyes closed.
Scourge picks his body up and walks him towards the front of the ship, up the stairs to the fore deck. A few of the pirates gathered in the crowd are jeering, while some are talking quietly.
A sentence of death for stealing. These fellas certainly spare no remorse for theives.
"I wonder if they dole out punishments before supper to make you lose your appetite. Looks like this buggar is about to end up as a new decoration for the ship." Gill says quietly only so those near him can hear.
Rougar lowers his eyes to the deck.
The savagery of men never ceases to amaze me.
Jakes' body is cast overboard and a splash is heard. Mr. Plugg, standing on the deck, begins to pull the rope from the back of the boat.
After a few minutes, Jakes' body appears on the side of the deck, clinging lethargically to the railing, then falling to the deck with a thud. Mr. Plugg continues pulling until Jakes' returns to his original position, dragging sea water and blood across the deck.
What is left of Jakes' body is naught but mangled, ribbons of flesh and bone. His joints are twisted and dislodged, with his head hanging limply, caved and torn. One of his eyes is gouged out, with the other staring blankly upwards towards his brow.
"Have Kipper clean this up. Throw what's left down for the sharks." Mr. Plugg says. Scourge detaches the rope from the corpses dislocated limbs and removes the chains as well. He does so with the practiced calm of a mortician.
"Alright you dogs," Says Plugg after he finishes with his gruesome task. "Rum rations are bein doled out by Patch over there"- he points to a gnome leaning on a stack of rum barrels on deck- "And be sure to drink the whole thing. And mess is served in the galley. Hear we're havin' somethin' that was scaled, but ain't any more." At that he has a hearty laugh and turns to captain with a nod.
Gill shudders and turns away after the execution. Gill approaches Rougar and grins.
"Glad that wasn't one of us. Hopefully you didn't lose your appetite, let's eat and drink."
As disgusting as that was, I'm still famished. Yes, let's eat. Oh, and before I forget.
Rougar slips the short blade out of his robe and hands it to Gill.
This is for you from a friend. Rougar nods to the red haired woman.
Gill nods and takes it. "Oh, what is it? Well I'll look later I'm dead tired and starving. See you in the chow line."
Gill holds the sword package under his armpit and goes to get his rum and food.
Gill finds the rum dark and strong. Many of the crew members take their food up onto the deck to eat. Some go down into the Crew berths. After eating the crew begins various forms of entertainment. One group in particular throws a greased, piglet skin covered ingot around on the deck, betting and measuring the distance thrown. Others hold drinking races with half pints of rum. Things begin to dissolve into bedlam and debauchery. Scourge, Mr. Plugg and the other officers are around, but the captain is nowhere in sight.
Rougar takes his rum and invites Ensra and Sandara to join him and Gill for a meal.
Food is much better with good company.
Gill sits down with the others and begins chowing down and throwing back the rum.
"So where do ya think this boat is heading?"
Rougar begins eating with vigor, finally pleased to have something in his belly. He speaks in between bites.
I hope somewhere pleasant, but I'm not holding much hope for that. More than likely, it'll be a place of butchery if the masters of this ship are any indication.
Gill laughs and takes a hearty swig, "You're probably right, still I think I have more talent in handling these people rather than guards."
I don't think I'll ever get the knack for dealing with people who have no regard for life.
Rougar takes a sip of his rum.
I like the work, though. It's demanding, but the rigging gives you a sense of freedom.
"They are a violent people. I am not sure if it is very safe. The longer we are on this boat the greater the risk of punishment. It is in the nature of those who torture to find reasons to torture, rather than wait for provocation." Ensra says in a dark, flat tone.
"They've certainly found someone to punish each day, at least. Sometimes Mr. Plugg whips crew without any ceremony." Sandara says, rubbing behind her shoulder. "But the captain, or his cronies, haven't been clear about where we're headed. Something about a 'greater calling', I heard one say. Then there will be the usual plunder and murder along the way, I assume."
As Gill eats he unwraps the package Rougar gave him an inspects it closely.
You got on the wrong end of Plugg's whip? Rougar speaks to Sandara.
"Aye, a few times. Talkin' back... not swabbin' the right way. That sort of thing. Bastard hit me with a fist full of rope once, but that's the task master for you." Sandara says, smiling wistfully after she finishes, as if to try and squeeze optimism from the air.
The sword in Gill hands is the one he owned previously.
"Grok said that very little was turned in to her when they found you, Rougar. Were you destitute before?" Sandara asks. She takes her at off and runs her hands through her hair then places her hat in her lap, sitting cross legged on the deck.
The group is seated on the fore-deck of the ship, watching the horizon bob gently, and clouds pass over the moon, which is gaining prominence in the dark sky.
"What do you know of your kind, Gill? The ones you referred to as your fathers... the dragons." Ensra asks Gill quietly while Sandara and Rougar converse.