"Roit. Rum." He goes off to get his meal, giving a Salute to Sandara before he does.
Shikyo follows the dwarf Grizzle.
Orokana deki sokonai. he mutters.
"So, Alfonso, eet seems tha yer a spellcaster?"
"So, Alfonso, eet seems tha yer a spellcaster?"
"I have a meager talent, yes. Not much of a war mage, but I can hold my own... briefly."
Sandara whispers to Mad Jack.
"It's alright. I've dealt with his kind before. He'll tire of his games soon enough."
***
Dieredon serves up the rum ration and the fish stew to the crew before getting his own plate and cup.
Shikyo once again sniffs disdainfully at the Rum..and pushes it once more to Grizzle.
That night Shikyo sleeps, and dreams of bloody vengeance.
Treggor approaches Alfonso and claps him on the back unexpectedly. "Say, I notice yer words be as silver as yer arms be soft, and I wonder if ye might have a few ta spare fer a good cause." He says with a conspiratorial smile.
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Grizzle drinks his and Shikyo's rum, thanking him for the booze. Then, after getting as much drink as he can get his hands on, he begins to sing a bawdy sailor song while dangling from the rigging.
Worn out by the day's activities (not to mention the lashing), Alfonso goes straight to bed, trying to get some rest before it starts again the next day.
Dieredon grabs his plate and cup after serving the others, and as he walks past Alfonso in route to the others, he asks in Elvish,
Dieredon joins the others, and whispers lowly to the group.
Well, that Scourge sure is a fun fella. I saw earlier that our equipment is locked behind a door at Quartermaster Grok's. I am going to try and get on her good side, but is anyone adept at pilfering, or is there another way to get our equipment back, other than being good little pirates?
He takes a swig of the Rum.
Dieredon approaches Grok. Good to see you earlier, Quartermaster. I was wondering if I would be more efficient rigging a line to one of my arrows and bowfishing for a larger catch than the nets provide? I am quite the archer, you know?
Treggor waits for the right moment when he can catch the first mate alone, and approaches him to make himself known. "Say, ye be the first mate o' this fine vessel, aye? Mr. Plugg isn't it? The name's Treggor, an' afore I signed on ta serve with yer band of sea dogs, I was a first mate meself. Aye, pirate blood runs deep in me viens, an' I've a special respect for the difficulties of bein' a first mate. Not the less because spineless crewmen who's not favorin' the way the wind blows always have it out fer ya. Why, t'were me own crew abandoned me in the tavern where ya picked me up. But I don't have ta tell you, what with the way that Mister Scourge talks. Rotten shame, to be speakin' ill of the fine station o' first mate, and he who be holdin' it. Ol' Treggor stood up fer ya, knowing the troubles that come with yer position first hand. But I don't think that Scourge took kindly to my speakin' against him. Seems I made an enemy o' that one. Figure I'll be payin' fer that with me back later, but us first mates have ta stand up fer ours. Anyway, that Scourge may be a dangerous man, but I trust ye can manage 'im if he makes a move against ye. Or more 'when', the way he talks. But I just wanted ta offer ye a word of encouragment. When it comes time ta choose loyalties, I'd choose ya over Scourge in a blink." he says with a wink and walks away.
That night, he looks for a place to stash his rum ration for later enjoyment.
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Mister Plugg smiles a sharklike grin at Treggor.
"You are an interesting one, Mister Mynth. Going above your station to rat out his own crewmate. I do wonder why your crew so heartlessly abandoned you. You amuse me. So I will take you at your word. Therefore, I shall have Master Scourge beaten brutally tonight, until he tells me exactly what he said. Because of course, he did say something, didn't he, Mister Mynth?"
"He is such a bad liar though. So very easy to know if he is telling the truth or not. I suppose I shall find out soon enough. You are such a fine and upstanding man, Mister Mynth. I would hate to think what would happen should Master Scourge discover what you said here tonight."
Plugg is possibly psychotic, and doesn't care what happens to Scourge or anyone else. He will beat Scourge, because it amuses him. And then he will unleash him on you, because it's funny.
"And I will offer you this free advice, Mister Mynth. Your fellow comrades have been noticed ducking their rum rations. That is terrible luck on a ship, and a slap to the Captain's face. See to it that it does not happen again. Or they will get the lash. As will you."
Shikyomaru and Alfonso turn in early for the night, while Grizzle brings the house down with a stirring song.
Dierdon approaches Grok with an idea to use a bow for fishing. She rolls her eyes at such a blatant attempt to get his weapons back.
"Go away, fish boy."
Mad Jack notices a handsome, foppish gnome wearing a purple hat, an eye patch and a white silk shirt. He is carrying a dandyish cane that he spins around as he talks a little too closely to Rosie Cusswell.
"I'll thank ye fer that advice, Mr. Plugg." Treggor responds, tipping his hat and making his exit.
Dieredon bows at the hip, and then spins on his heel to return to his hammock for the night.
Rum in hand, Jack saunters over to an odd couple who had caught his eye. One of them was Rosie, who he'd spoken to only briefly, the other was a gnome who appeared to be pestering her. He wandered over near them, as if looking for a place to lean while he drunk his ration of rum. Being polite, he tipped his non-existent hat as he sidled up next to them and said, "Fair evenin' to ye Ma'am, Ser gnome." He examined the rum, pulled a face and with a cheeky grin wished them, "To ya very good health!"
The rum was raw and nasty and burned as it went down, Jack coughed slightly, blew out his cheeks, and to the Gnome remarked, "An acquired taste nae doubt... Anyways don' believe we've met, name's Jack."
He extends his hand and tries to draw one or both of them into conversation.
The gnome looks annoyed for a moment, but then smiles pleasantly. The feather on his fine, purple hat just skirts the deck of the ship as he bows to Mad Jack.
"No, I don't believe we have. I am one of the riggers. My name is Conchobar Shortstone. I am one of the riggers. How do you find yourself this evening, good sir?"
Conchobar would really prefer it, if you left right now.
***
The night goes by quickly and quietly. And the Press-ganged are awoken by the sound of the bosun, Master Scourge, shouting at them to climb aboard deck.
When the Press-ganged arrive they find a murderous looking Scourge who is covered in welts and bruises.
He point to Grizzle. "Rigger! Our rigging was damaged yesterday with your show-boatin'. Get up there and fix it."
He then point to Dieredon. "You! Report to the galley on the double 'fores I keelhaul ya."
He then looks at the swabs. And at Treggor in particular.
"The rest of ya sad sods belong to me. Your haulin' rope until your fingers bleed. And then ya hauls some more. I'm gonna be with ya every single second until dark."
Dieredron reports to the galley to find Fishguts a little wobbly from his drinking, but functional.
"Hey, Dieredon. The First Mate is in a mood this mornin'. He demanded turtle soup for the officers tonight. I have to prepare the meals, so that'll be your job. Here, give this note to Grok. And she'll get you a harpoon."
Treggor makes sure to keep his head down and manage his labor like the seasoned sailor he is, and soon gets lost in the work. Scourge pushes them hard, but the weathered pirate manages in spite of it.
"Why da ah always gets tha riggin!?" Grizzle yells at no one in particular. "Ah be a dwarf. We ain't meant fer tha skois."
Jack tried to draw Conchobar into conversation, the gnome was rude exactly but he clearly wasn't interested in talking to Jack. Not wanting to offend Jack makes his excuses and heads off to bed.
Jack rises with the others and can't help but notice Scourge had been beaten black and blue. 'Serves tha sod right.' thought Jack, before wondering, 'Who did 'im in, an' why?'
Scourge rides them hard all day, hauling and knotting the ropes. The kind of work likely to give a man blisters, heat stroke and drive him to exhaustion.
Later Jack remarks to the others, "Seems his nibs fell down tha stairs 'n' he thinks we're ta blame... Today? Well he's just gettin' started with us, gonna be blood if I'm nae mistaken. Still I reckon some'll see 'im 'n' smile, vicious rat had it coming."
Shikyo does the work without saying a word...he watches Scourge, studying his movements, planning.
The small Tien man is winded and tired, but hale.
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Fueled by hatred of Scourge, Alfonso works like a mad man. However it takes its toll, and he's exhausted by the end of the day.
Aye, Fishguts, I'm on it.
Dieredon stops off to see Grok, and then gets to work on hunting turtles with the harpoon and nets.
Well, this is certainly not within my known skill level. I hope I can manage?
Dieredon returns earlier than anticipated with quite a haul.
Dieredon manages a beautiful catch. He isn't sure if it was raw skill or just dumb luck. But he decides not to question it. And then up in the ropes, Grizzle, looks like he was born on a ship, despite his grumbling.
But the swabs are more of a mixed bag. Treggor and Shikyomaru manage to keep up well enough, despite Scourge's badgering. Alfonso manages the job as well, but is exhausted by it. But Mad Jack is a little distracted by his own rage and cold calculating, and doesn't meet Master Scourge's expectations - something that seems to eerily put a smile on the bitter man's face.
The mood is uneasy when the crew assembles for the Bloody Hour. Rumors have been flying about Scourge's bruises.
Captain Harrigan himself watches the proceedings from the elevated position of his cabin. First Mate Mister Plugg paces in front of the crew for a minute before finally speaking up.
"I have shown mercy to this crew. But that was not enough for some here. And since my mercy has been thrown in my face, then perhaps my wrath with have to suffice."
He pauses to take a deep breath before announcing, "Mister McGinty, you have failed to perform your duties in a satisfactory manner. Therefore you shall receive one lash."
There is an audible intake of air from the crew. A lashing for such a petty offense, is essentially unheard of.
"Mister Mynth. You are guilty of sedition against your bosun. And therefore sedition against your captain. You shall receive two lashes."
"Step up, if you be proper men. And receive your fair and just punishment."
Grizzle raises his hand "Sir, why tha ****in' **** wouldja doo tha? Of ye ask meself, seems fish-headed." He steps up. "Ah'll take tha lashes fer em. Ah've had worse."
Dieredon was absolutely shocked to hear of the lashes to be dealt to his new mates, but that could not match the astonishment and respect that he immediately had for Grizzle who offered to stand in their shoes. However, he maintained a mask of indifference so as not to alert any of his true alliances.
"True sailors take their own lashes, Mister Grizzle," Plugg says in a bored and unimpressed tone.
"And true leaders lead by example, not by fear!" Alfonso shouts, attempting to rally the crowd.
"It's bad enough that many of us were forced to serve on this ship against our will, but such harsh punishment for trivial offenses breeds resentment and disloyalty. I believe this ship and crew could accomplish great things under Captain Harrigan's leadership, but not if we cower under the lash, never knowing who will be punished next on trumped-up charges or flimsy pretexts! I say..."
Alfonso glances around, and, gauging their agreement with him, continues on.
"...that we're mad as hell, and we're not going to take it anymore!"
Alfonso says his piece and it occurs to Jack, 'Tha man's a loon. I lik' 'im.'
Of course something had to be done. Eyes tinged with madness Jack laughs, and what an unnerving thing that is! The laugh is full bodied round and oh so much deeper than anyone of Jack's stature had any right to. The sort of laugh to rattle the floorboards as well as the enemy.
Looking Plugg directly in the eye, Jack calmly states, "Mercy ye keep on using tha' word, I donnae think ye know what it means... Anyhap ye set us up ta fail, with pretty boy ridin' us 'ard. Well ye have yer excuse, lets git on with it! I ain't got all day." This was one of those times were Jack truly didn't care about the consequences. They had made their mind up. It was inevitable as his blood thirsty revenge.
That Half-Elf has lost his mind! At least Mad Jack is takin' like a man.
Shikyo mutters to himself Fūru wa jishin ga korosa shiyou to s#@*e imasu.
He watches the results of the poor Bard's rabble rousing.
Some faces in the crowd look like they might agree with Alfonso, but they don't quite trust him enough to follow his lead.
Then Mad Jack chimes in with his own words about the First Mate's so-called Mercy.
Mister Plugg smiles while Scourge is positively beaming.
"Very well, then. Two lashes each for Alfonso and Jack. Step up. We'll make pirates of you, yet."
Mad Jack is first. He has his arms bound with leather and placed over his head. His arms are then tied to the mast.
"Master Scourge if you'd be so kind."
Scourge retrieves a whip. He cracks it twice and then he attacks.
<--
<--
Jack's flesh is battered and bleeding as he's lead away.
"The musician next," Scourge bellows.
Alfonso is tied up and then then Scourge lets loose.
<--
<--
Alfonso does not scream, but he does pass out from the pain.
Master Scourge laughs heartily and then says, "Get that lump away from there. Time for the last one."
Mynth is tied like the others were. Scourge takes a moment to savor and then unleashes.
<--
<--
Treggor is loosed, still conscious but battered.
Treggor takes his lumps silently, his back showing a canvas of pre-existing scars now joined by the company of two fresh ones. He forces a rotten smile for anyone who might be looking.
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Defiantly Jack stares at Scourge in the eye as he strikes. The whip leaves a trail of fire across his flesh, but Jack was no stranger to the sting. He didn't cry out or flinch, if anything he stared at Scourge harder. Maybe not tiday, but he was going to kill him and mount his head on a pike.
Dieredon can see the hate in Mad Jack's eyes towards his punisher. He simply catches his friend's eye and a visage of grim death comes across as he quickly looks to Scourge before an appearance of stern disinterest returns.
Scourge will pay...
Mister Plugg orders for chow and rum rations to be served. And so Dieredon has to help with the meal again.
Sandara moves over to Alfonso's limp form and asks the other press-ganged with her eyes for help.
Sandara lowers Alfonso gently to the ground below deck. She pulls out her ebony holy symbol chants a moment and heals him.
She then does the same for Jack and Treggor.
"This is getting dangerous," she says.
Alfonso bolts awake as the healing spell takes hold.
"Gah! Did we win? Did we take the ship?"
"Not exactly darling. More like you werw flogged and then fainted -- er, I mean, passed out from very manly pain. It was impressive."
"Oh. Well, this is going to make things awkward at dinner then, isn't it? Thank you for the healing, by the way."
"Ya fell loik an old oak inta tha ocean!" Grizzle yells, gesturing with his arms. "Tha lass spakes true!"
Shikyo helps Sandara carry the unconscious bard away. Later, after he recovers Shikyo whispers to Alfonso.
What you did was "Orokana" foolish. Best to wait for right time, strike from shadows before anyone sees. Poison.