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The captain can't get the discordant sounds out of his head! He loses the spell he was casting as he also loses his lunch!
Crossbows!! All At the Captain!!! Tap bellows
Sunyata leaps over the gathering and delivers a wicked elbow to the captain's midsection. Immediately after, Tap's spell takes effect and the captain begins to vomit uncontrollably.
The gathered crew looks about to their captain's orders and, seeing the man doubled over, they look back to Jack and the line of crossbowmen with their weapons trained upon them. Nearly as one, they throw down their swords and raise their hands up.
The man that Rush tried to help stands weakly to watch this, and then turns to Rush in confusion. He seems unsure of where to go from here.
Orders captain?
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Collect their weapons and bind them. Gag that captain as well. Tap orders. Tap watches grimly as the weapons are collected. At the command, a sailor hauls over a long rope from the Oncoming Storm, and one by one he binds the legs and hands, into a long snake of frightened men and women. Last, Tap hauls the captain up, ignoring the captain's frantic attempts to parley through a dirty rag, and stands him up with his back to the mast. Search him! The officers as well. Tap commands.
Once done, Tap orders the captain to be tied to his crew. He walks down the line. Suddenly Captain Taptap points his thumb to a young man who appeared to actively be reconsidering his ill-fated choices in his short life. Untie him, and bring him aboard our tub. Strip him of everything and tie him to the mast. We must have a witness.
Turning back to his captivated audience. For the sins of slavery and stupidity, I command thee all to the death, as the sea, our mother, extends most willingly
Over groans of fear, Tap gives the order for them to be cast overboard. With an initial shove, a snake of men begin to be pulled overboard, with the helpful kick and shove to move things along. Last the rope tightens, yanking on the captain to the deck, and pulls him to oblivion.
Now. Search the ship. Take all booty and bring it back to the Oncoming Storm, save provisions enough for the enslaved men, and then provision each freed slave with 10 pieces of silver.
Rush whispers to the Captain, Think we might offer for any who wish to join the crew? We're still a little low on hands, Captain.
Rush says this as he pets the wolf who trotted over after the fighting was done. Good job, friend. Thank you and may you recuperate well.
Tap leans over. I know what you mean Rush, but I don't hold with slavers and those who'd abide them.
Well, this lot may want to join as freeman crew; otherwise, we drop them off ... where? You are not thinking of giving up this new ship, are you Captain?
It may be worth something Tap allows. It seems that our primary booty is made of hulls. But true, they should hold a fair price, somewhere.
Tap looks long and hard at the longship. Would this be able to sail inland in places where we dare not sail the oncoming storm? Darn it, I need to learning something about sailing ships.
Rush studies the items for magic and tries to figure out what they do.
Cloak:
Headband:
Rod:
Scroll 1:
Scroll 2:
Scroll 3:
Scroll 4:
Responding to Tap, I was talking about the slaves themselves, Captain. Some of them may not have lives to go back to.
Ah yes. We should make the offer..at least, after we learn more about them. Never know, they might have been slavers themselves once upon a time. Whatever the case, we are provisioning them each with ten silver pieces, which should get them a foothold where ever they end up going.
Cloak:
Headband
Rod
Scroll #1
#2
#3
#4
It's a grisly scene - the men, tied together, shout and scream as they're toppled into the churning sea. You can already see the shadowed forms of large predators under the surface - they often gather around such battles as these for just this reason...chum.
It's only a few moments before the first man goes under, and then the entire line of pirates jerks with the pull, and more are taken down. The captain, fittingly, is last - perhaps he had time to contemplate his choices in this life. But, now he's on to the Boneyard for judgement.
The freed slaves rub raw wounds where their manacles had been. They're in sore shape, for certain - marks from the lash criss-cross their backs, and their ribs show under their skin. Many seem hazy from lack of water, and some have missing teeth or hair from scurvy setting in.
They mumble and go where directed, but seem to have little initiative to do anything but obey. Perhaps with time...
Well, perhaps we can fit that catapult on the ship we're getting retrofitted now. As for the boat, perhaps we just go back and see if we can trade it in Rickety to pay off some of our debt.
Rush contemplates heading back to Rickety's, again. Seems like every time we try to sail somewhere, we find some reason to head back to the refitter. But concern isn't in his eyes, the joy of sailing is.
Aye. I agree with Jack. And maybe Rickety can use any of the men that don't want to sail.
Indeed, you make your way back to Rickety's, thankfully without mishap as you have some of your men divided between the ships. Rickety merely shakes his head in wonder and surprise, and pushes his men into motion to bring in the boat and take the slaves to the restaurant.
Now...gonna' be costly to feed these people, ya' know. At least, till they can be useful enough to make their own way. You prepared to take on that cost, Captain?
He looks out to the longship, rubbing his chin. Well...It's sure not the usual ship I'd see around here. There may be a way we could retrofit it to head inland on the river here...but I'm not too sure we want to go that far in, seein' as how you didn't go too far and ran into crazy poison-monkeys. If yer people have some time and want to help with some exploration, well we may take you up on that. But, my people are really qualified yet to take that on.
Ricketty, what would you give us for the ship, against what we owe you?
Rickety eyes the ship, chewing on it for a bit, then shrugs. Fifteen hundred I guess? I'm not sure when I can find a buyer for it, so it's a risk.
Rush shouts from across the deck, peg-leg tapping as he comes over to join the conversation. Come now, Rickety. A risk? There is no risk. Look at the sails. The figure head. All the spare lumber. You could refit any ship in the waters with those and none-the-wiser. This ship would be an investment for future business. And if we had the money, we could put our crew ashore and let them spend their share right here.
Aye, we have supplied each of these poor fellows with some silver to get by on as they get their land legs back. In any case, unless you are wanting to hire them, I had not planned on dumping them on to your beach.
Rickety lolls his head from side to side, as if rolling around the thought. Then, he gruffly agrees. Aw, yeah...I guess yer right. We can make it work. You have a deal, then.
Fair enough cap'n. I hope you understand though...we'll be keepin' an eye on them. We don't plan on leavin' the kitchen knives out at night, if ya' know what I mean. But...they prove themselves, then sure - we can always use more help around here. You fellas' back off and out then?
Sunyata goes to figure out what's all going on at the tavern.. any rumors gossip news...
Rumor mill:
The Dominator has been sighted north on the coast! They're pirate hunters, out of Cheliax!
The ghost ship Deathknell has been spotted to the south; o ye' be ware of ghost pirate Scourge!
Cap'n Redsail has been docked at Port Peril for weeks...some say he's bount for retirement.
After taking care of what you need to at Rickety's, you head back out to Windward Isle - the rocky and barren small island with boggy with a western lagoon on which Tidewater Rock commands a grand view of the Isle. The harbor is about a quarter mile wide channel that runs just south of the rock and empties into a lagoon large and deep enough to safely hold three seagoing ships.
The Keep itself sits right on the lagoon's edge, where the water looks to range from knee to neck deep, with powerful ebb tides and no doubt rip currents that could sweep one out to sea. The Tower house is over 70 feet tall and is built upon the same stone shingle that makes up the western shore of the isle. There's a 10-foot tall stone base to the tower, with a stone stair that rises up to a heavy front door. It's early afternoon and the tide is fairly high, so waves very nearly lap at the stoop in front of the door.
Jack looks at the doorstep, and shrugs. He grabs a bottle of rum, and swims over to the front doorstep. Upon which he sits, and opens his bottle of rum, and toasts the lady of the tower. He then sits, drinking his rum, loudly singing bowdy songs from the northern coasts.
Jack gets a good look as he approaches the tower - this thing rises like a solid block from the sea at the edge of this island. The pounding surf rolls around its base and partially covers the steps that lead up to its front gate. A few arrow slits pierce its walls here and there, and a single shuttered window opens high upon the face of the fortress. A roof of metal shingles rises from its battlements where sentries keep lookout and siege weapons stand ready on corner turrets.
As Jack sings his tune, the window opens, and a blond haired, pale-skinned feminine face looks down from above. She shouts to be heard over the crashing waves. Not a bad voice, but not good enough to sit on my stoop for any longer. Is there something you want - perhaps to have your ship's carcass join the others at the bottom of my harbor?
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