Kerruk seems oblivious as his eyes scan the horizon almost obsessively - Where are you, my star-souled friend? - but he murmurs quietly in answer to Tap: I can promise nothing for the long journey, little one - I go where I am led - but for now, yes, I am happy for us to watch each other's backs. I am Kerruk Gahar, of Thuvia. Well met.
I do wish I could have climbed better though; I can't even see the sea from down here without ermm...hopping.
Tap had a sudden idea.
Casting about for big, friendly, but dumb looking swaab...
Perhaps I can find a swaab to be my gallant mount
Cooking: Assisting Ambrose Kroop in preparing the day’s meal. If Kroop is sober, no check is required. If Kroop is drunk, this requires a DC 10 Profession (cook) or Intelligence check.
Blasted Barnacles is this tough work
At least I can show these cretins how to work on a ship.
Ha! I'd be fool to believe such modesty. Cross Eyed Jack, am I, and a pleasure to make your acquaintance; let you be my master, and I your willing apprentice. What do we today?
Looking around, Jack ponders his situation, and how he might keep ol' Fishguts sober, at least until after the evening meal.
Hi! My name is Taptap. Been here a while? Tap smiles a small friendly smile.
Jack eyes the cleaver warily. Sighing, he spoke
Whilst sharing a brown pint at the Former Maid, your merry sailors bragged loudly that no other ship had as fine fare as did the Wormwood. It is indeed on this recommendation that I boldly demanded to be sent here to the kitchens, when I found myself aboard the Wormwood and pressed for service. Count myself lucky I do, for I might have joined some second-rate crew hunting whales in the cold northern seas; such seemed destined to be my fate, as I was a man desperate for the sea, or more precisely, desperate to get out of port town, for I kissed the wrong man's daughter. chuckling, ..in all the right places.
But, no, I am too ashamed to wield this cleaver before you. See, my hands, are trembling. Teach me so that I might learn from a master. T'would put me in your debt.
Sensing a possible kindred spirit, Kerruk tries to spend some time with the quiet Half-Orc. He volunteers very little about himself, but does attempt to make conversation.
Kerruk. Out of Thuvia. It seems we are to be shipmates. Perhaps it might be wise to learn a little about each other?
Your humming song works wonders on your body, and doesn’t seem to be noticed.
The woman looks up at your words. Rosie, Taptap, Rosie Cusswell. Nice to meet ya’, if for nothin’ else than a few more hands for the work on this forsaken bucket. That was a fine song earlier…haven’t heard a song outta’ any of these sods for some time now. Guess there ain’t much ta’ sing about. If I had my fiddle, I’d play to join ya’, but that bilge rat Grok won’t see reason and give it back.
The half-orc witnesses the exchange and your later approach. His face seems stuck in a perpetual sneer, and if anything it grows more dark as you near him. He growls at your words, clears his throat with gurgling exaggeration, and spits a massive wad of…something unrecognizable…on the deck at your feet. He doesn’t seem to get the irony that he will probably have to clean that up since he’s swabbing the deck…or he doesn’t care.
Brutes! But that confirms my suspicions...this is a ship of fools, if ever there was one.
I guess I might shanty tonight Tap mumbles, audibly.
The sun is setting soon.
Come all ye young fellows that follows the sea
To me, way hey, blow the man down
Now please pay attention and listen to me
Give me some time to blow the man down
I'm a deep water sailor away from the Shackles to long
You give me some whiskey, I'll sing you a song
When a trim Black Ball liner's preparing for sea
On a trim Black Ball liner I wasted me prime
When a trim Black Ball liner preparing for sea
You'll split your sides laughing such sights you would see
There's tinkers and tailors, shoemakers and all
They're all shipped for sailors aboard the Black Ball
When a big Black Ball liner's a-leaving her dock
The boys and the girls on the pier-head do flock
Now, when the big liner, she's clear of land
Our bosun he roars out the word of command
Come quickly, lay aft to the break of the poop
Or I'll help you along with the toe of me boot
Pay attention to orders, now, you one and all
For see high above there flies the Black Ball
'Tis larboard and starboard, on deck you will sprawl
For kicking Jack Rogers commands the Black Ball
Not a performance that I'd want to make in a King's hall, but on the WormWood? Tap smiled.
If I only had a fiddler with a fiddle! Then I'd sing a real bawdy tune!
Tap looks out at the sobs in front of him, trying to glean anything.
As night comes down on the good ship Wormwood, Kerruk will attempt to get to know the chap in the ridiculous hat.
Tap seems a good sort, but if I'm to survive this, I'll need allies...or at least a few folks who might look the other way...
Well met. I hail from Thuvia - a long time ago now. Have you sailed with the Wormwood long? I am Kerruk, Kerruk Gahar, by the way.
The half-orc grunts, but his snarl never leaves his face.
As the sun begins to wane in the sky above, Mister Plugg calls all of the crew together on deck. C'mon, ya' bloody scoundrels; the bloody hour awaits! Got a special show for ya' tonight! A slim, starved looking, disheveled man is brought out at the hands of Master Scourge and an ugly fat man. His arms shackled and head bowed low, he faces a series of rough questions from Master Scourge and Mister Plugg.
From the interrogation, you gather that the man, a Jakes Magpie, was caught stealing from the quartermaster's store the night before. He admits t the crime, obviously an unnecessary process that had done well before. Plugg and Scourge were in their glory, savoring every moment of the man's obvious terror and the other pirates' thirst for blood.
Plugg's screeching voice cries out among the calls for pirate justice. You all know the punishment for stealin'. Jakes Magpie, you're hereby sentenced to a keelhauln'...a slow trip across the haul.
The man is strung up with thick ropes, and he moans in fear the entire time.
As the preparations are laid, a young woman...particularly fetching in a tricorne hat, comes near the four newcomers, and utters a single word under her breath. Disgusting.
Kerruk raises one eyebrow and murmurs: The crime? Or the punishment?
The punishment. They force us into this; make us steal, make us kill. Then they punish us for becoming what they've forced us to become..
Well, she looks like a pirate, but perhaps there are pirates of a different stripe...Lovely, too. Or is she bait for a trap? Stars, guide me.
Why then do you remain? Or are you also an unwilling...volunteer? I am out of my depth here, ma'am. When they took me they parted me from the only true friend I have ever known - Where are you my friend? Flying free? - and I fear for myself and the little one, Tap, among such brutes.
Committed now. Am I a fool for a comely face?
Kerruk summons up all of his inner intensity and fixes his unearthly gaze on the young woman. He smiles as best he can - it is not natural to him - and his hands spread in a subtle gesture of supplication.
I've a little brute in me as well Tap grins and winks mischievously at the attractive pirate.
hmm. Is she looking for allies.or troublemakers in the newly gang pressed crew, Tap wonders?
Tap looks.closely at the woman Does this woman seem to have suffered hardship or is she one of the ship officers?
The woman nods solemnly. Indeed, I was…convinced…to join this forsaken crew a few weeks ago, by Besmara’s luck. She clutches at the skull and crossbones pendant at her throat with the curse. There’s much that isn’t right here on the Wormwood, as I’m sure you’ve seen. A pirate’s life for sure, but I’m betting there’s a bit more to it than that… Her eyes drift to where the captain stands just outside of his cabin, thick arms crossed over a muscular chest.
A splash sounds out as poor Jakes is dumped into the water. Mister Plugg begins to gleefully pull on the rope from the other end, dragging the thief’s body across the barnacle covered hull.
I've heard that in a fast keelhaul, a man will be sliced by the barnacles...but with a slow keelhaul, a man can push himself away from the barnacles with his feet, only to then drown.
Tap grimaces and looks away
I wish the man could have been slipped a air bladder...I had four of them before everything but my mum's earplugs has been stolen from me. If Jakes somehow lives...
Pirates and merchant lords...a game that can be played many ways, even honorably
Tap flicks his eyes over toward Mister Plugg...then shakes his head.
But we are ruled by strongmen on the WormWood...and they rule by fear and iron
Looking at Kerruk, then X-eye.
...and strongmen are ever watchful. I predict a hard time ahead.
Tap sighs.
Kerruk glowers at the spectacle of the keelhauling...Plugg and I may have dealings later...but you are right, Tap. Hard times ahead indeed.
Jack slowly nods his head, frowning. And then suddenly turns and laughs loudly, for all to hear, crying Such should any who thieve from their brethren sailors expect, even were it on a ship of the royal navy! Nay, if it is indeed our fate, then let us honest pirates be, bonded to one another in blood and plunder on the high seas!.
And then, in a low voice, Uh, where are we headed, by the way? Anyone know?
Arden goes about her new daily routine, working in the rigging or standing in the crow's nest. She keeps a keen interest in any landmarks or other details that may help her establish her bearings or the intended destination of the ship. She does not engage the halfling in conversation, though she keeps an eye on him.
Tap stares hard at Jack Awful lawful Jack.
heartily said...but we are not freed pirates...this is no honorable band of thieves of same mind and under common cause. You think these sailors and our brave captain hear you and think, 'You art my brother in truth!?
Tap growls in low tones:
Nay Jack. We are slaves. And that strongman marked you as a fool..and the crew, a mark for a dagger in the back. Tap smirked.
An oracle named you at your birthing, did she?
Tap turned his back to Jack.
X-eyed Jack indeed!
no. Keep your heads down. Work. Make friends... Jack I dont know your heart, but I can tell you aint one to be under a heel.
Jack whispers fiercely, to TapTap Fool! Keep thy loud mouth shut, lest the masters of this ship take thy tongue to catch fish with. What shanty wouldst thou sing then? Hast thou no wisdom, to speak insurrection so boldly? Whist! .
To the dashing lady pirate, Dear Lady, willt thou not tell us your name? I say, let us meet over a bit of grog in some place more quiet.
The woman offers a mischievous grin. Sandara Quinn; any quiet you find on this boat is likely to mean a dagger in your back.
Tap glowers at at Jack and whispers I said no such thing. Nor in a loud voice. Now I wonder if you want me killed?
What a lout; thinks he fooled the Captain with his proclamation of support, but just marked us in the captain's memory.
But enough of this. Sandara Quinn, it is? Good to meet you. You seem better equipped than we, how did they not steal your posessions...or is there ways to earn them back?
Stop grousing, you two. I doubt very much Jack here wants you killed, O Tap the Brutal. Kerruk smiles wryly at the Halfling, then turns to Sandara Quinn. Can we trust you? I mean no offence: we are all strangers here, after all, and my heart is hot at the offence done me. He turns to look at Plugg, busy at his vile work. And hotter still at what I see now.
Several objects on Sandara's person show a faint glow, and she hisses as she quickly conceals them. Yes..I have some tricks, as do we all; there's no other way to stay alive here. I'll explain more, but...tonight. Seek me out; I can imagine even a few dirt-bound sods like you can find me on a boat this size. Her good nature returned, she winks, and slips back into the gathered crowd, her eyes on the rope being pulled by Plugg.
What comes up when the knot hits the pully is Jakes no more. Mister Plugg skillfully cuts the knot around the man's bound ankles, and the remains hit the deck with a loud, wet, thud. Flayed bits of skin hang about it like the remains of a beggar's quote. Master Scourge looks down at the remains and snorts. Chum for the fishes! He and the fat man with a shaved head count to three like it's a game, before hurling the remains into the sea.
Alright, enough lollygagging! Bring out the food! Mister Plugg screeches, having lost interest in his game now that the object of his attentions has been used up.
The cook, an ugly fat man named Ambrose Kroop...but whom everyone calls Fishguts...gets Jack's attention and, with his help, brings up the large pot of fish stew that was, from everyone's reaction, the same thing they ate every day.
Soon after, a tall and muscular female half-orc comes on deck with two large jugs of a dirty brown liquid only slightly identifiable as rum. From the joking about that comes from many of the pirates on board, this is Cut-throat Grok, the quartermaster. The sign of her name is obvious, in the form of a huge scar across her neck. She divvy's out the rum rations, laughing at crude jokes from the crowd the entire time.
As the sun sets over the Wormwood, the crew takes to their libations with the zeal of people with nothing else to live for.
The pirates split up among the main deck and the lower hold, where their hammocks are, save for the officers and those who look like their sycophants, who all sit together in a group. Sandara is easy to spot, her lithe form leaning on a railing on the starboard side as she gazes out into the darkness. The pirates on deck break into various games of chance - Arm wrestling, the Hog Lob, and Heave, a drinking game.
Looking to Kerruk, and around for Arden, Tap leans up Like I said earlier, capable of using magic, either as a user or sorcerous, or merely a device user. Well I was going to perform tonight, but now I think I'd better go talk to Sandara some more. Want to come with me?
I should apologize for exposing her magical items to the crew with my spell, for diplomatic sake
Not waiting for TapTap's invitation, Jack walks over to Sandara Quinn, and says, I apologize for the indelicate behavior of my friend TapTap. One so small must be especially wary, and he has never been especially wise. But he sings well, and if we had a tune, I would ask thee to dance. Hey! But no, in sooth, lady, something seems not right aboard this ship, except perhaps for old master Fishguts, who is a jolly fellow. To where are we a'sailing? and what is your story? Such beauty is too uncommon for a boat like this!
Excuse me Sandara, for my small cantrip. These are tough times and we are in need of friends, in deed. You did not volunteer, but I needed to know. So I will return the favor. Jack says I sing, but in truth I am something more, a young sea bard...If you can, work near me..You might find your day's labor at sea less fatiguing...
Turning to Jack, Indeed I am small..but small does not mean I am a child who needs Daddy Jack to take care of him. I am hardly less nimble than I've seen you be on this deck...and indeed, my strength may be the greater. Shall we wrestle our arms? So enough of the condescension, "friend" Jack, and let us be allies without the banter that so readily comes to your lips
Turning back to Sandara, My tale is simple. I heard the sea singing, and I came to find it. Weary, I came to an inn and had a beer..Then I awoke here...I am happy to be on the sea, but perhaps, I'd be happier not on the Wormwood, at present.
Kerruk has wandered over to Sandara and his two involuntary crewmates. And I am a sailor, out of familiar waters...But you know how we came to be here. It is how we leave that is important, no?
He turns to Tap and Jack.
I think perhaps you should pretend to be at each other's throats: you do it well. We ought not to appear as if we are...allies, of any kind. And mayhap we should maintain another fiction: that we are rivals a'courting Miss Quinn, here.
He favours Sandara with a rough, ironic bow.
With your permission, of course. Thanks to your loveliness, it should be a lie easily swallowed.