A pounding headache rings through your head. The hard floor smells of mildew and bilge. The sickly taste of cheap wine lingers on your tongue. The dark room feels as if it is still rolling from drunken endeavor.
Before any of you can do much more than sit up several pairs of heavy footsteps sound in the room and a sharp light spears into the room.
A tall man in a leather Greatcoat and a red bandana smiles painfully as he cracks a bullwhip in his hands.
"Still abed with the sun over the yardarm? On your feet, ye filthy swabs! Get up on deck and report for duty before Cap’n Harrigan flays your flesh into sausage skins and has Fishguts fry ye up for breakfast!”
He is backed up by six rough looking men armed with saps.
A quick look around reveals that most of your gear is missing and you have little on you aside from clothes.
Akadi blinks away the pain, is that what drink does to you or did somebody hit me?
Realising she's somewhere new, despite the difficulties of the situation she grins, white teeth shining in the dim light, and heads up on deck with an unsettling enthusiasm.
Jarkul yawns and stretches before coming to his feet. "Keep yer britches on ye rosy-livered blaggard, This ain't me first dance, and I knows the score."
With a swagger in his lopsided step, the dwarf makes his way up to deck.
"What ship be this anyway?" he asks before ascending to the deck. He also checks his pockets.
"Urghhh...." was about the only sound the half Orc could mutter. He felt around, and pulled his cloak cowl over his head, both to hide his form and to brace him from the sun. Who are those scurvy bastards yelling at me?
He slipped to his feet. He looked around and saw other people being shouted at as well. He was on a ship. How in the blue hell did I get here?. As realization sat in,
That he and the others had been no doubt press ganged, he grimly smiled. "Ah, Pirate Queen your blessings are always a damned mixed blessing, ain't they?"
He falls in line.
Terz groans, at sound of the man in the red bandana he jumps up with a start trying to assed the situation. No no no not again. Not a slave again. He fights back tears at the idea of his freedom taken again. Why Besmara did you let me be plucked from the sea just to return me here. He swallows his pain and rage as he sinks back in his memory how to behave. I will play the part for now but I will breathe free again.
He notes the reserved nature the half roc takes to the situation. The dwarf seems view the station almost favorably. Seems to know the ropes. The poor girl I think she might still be drunk.
Terz steps forward and moves as directed careful to do as he is told.
The Man in the bandana seems on the verge of lashing out with his whip with each comment, but restrains himself as you step above deck. He and the other thugs trot you through the mid-deck before taking you above to the main deck.
"Taggit, bastards poisoned us. Like we weren't looking for a ship."
Perception
"Hold yer tongue, or you'll get us lashed with that damn whip. I'm sure we'll get the details later!" The half orc was too disoriented by the sun, the pain in his head, and his new surroundings to notice anything more than the sailor in the bandana and the ship on which he was now apparently a crewman. Or a prisoner....same difference, I guess"
Jarkul weighs his options, but ultimately decides on silence for the time being.
Zaketta's head throbs as her sleep is interrupted by a harsh voice. With a moan, she lifts her head from the hard deck and cracks open an eye, slowly taking in her surroundings. She sees a few familiar faces from the tavern from the night before, but with a mouth that felt so full of cotton, she had little inclination to greet them...
Zaketta wanted nothing more than to close her eyes and sink back into a peaceful slumber, but the harsh voice was insistent. It took her a few moments to put together his words and sort them out in her head. As she finally begins to make sense of the situation, Zaketta blinks repeatedly to clear her vision.
Not exactly how I planned to get aboard a ship, but I suppose it'll do.
Zaketta pulls herself from the deck and cracks her neck, reveling in the pleasing popping sensation. Running a hand through her long, disheveled red hair, she gives the man in the red bandana a contemptuous look.
When I get hold of this ship, he'll be the first one overboard.
"It's bad luck to wake a priestess of Besmara in the middle of a good dream," Zaketta says. "Best take care, friend, or you're apt to provoke the Pirate Queen."
The Orc perks up at the words of the female. Priestess of Besmara? Now we're talking! I guess you have something in mind for me after all, Queen?!. He cranes his neck to get a better look at her.
Not much to look at...maybe she's a fighter.
Terz notes the spirits of the other prisoners. Perhaps this less slavery than I am expecting. The old sailor said it was Besmara who saved those years on the island, if that was real. Here I am surrounded by those who call her name. Could this somehow be of her purpose.
He comes out on to the main deck with the others and waits for what will come.
The man in the bandana grins sickly as he clouts Zaketta "Silence you mutt!"
As they begin force marching you to the main deck. It becomes quickly apparent that you all are on a sizable ship in the middle of the ocean,far from any land.
Figures cluster around the ship’s mainmast, looking up at the higher deck on the stern, where two figures stand. One of them is a broad, muscular Garundi man with a shaven head, a long beard bound with gold rings, and an eye patch, clearly the captain. The other is a younger, balding man with a long black ponytail, wearing a long coat and carrying a well-used cat-o’-nine-tails.
You can see now that you are not the only recruits there are at least four others on the ship their cleanliness setting them apart from the crew of roughly two dozen pirates.
The captain turns to adress you, “Glad you could join us at last! Welcome to the Wormwood! My thanks for ‘volunteering’ to join my crew. I’m Barnabas Harrigan. That’s Captain Barnabas Harrigan to you, not that you’ll ever need to address me. I have only one rule—don’t speak to me. I like talk, but I don’t like your talk. Follow that rule and we’ll all get along fine. “Oh, and one more thing. Even with you new recruits, we’re still short-handed, and I aim to keep what crew I have. There’ll be a keelhaulin’ for anyone caught killin’ anyone. Mr. Plugg! If you’d be so kind as to make pirates out of these landlubbers, it’ll save me having to put them in the sweatbox for a year and a day before I make pies out of ’em.”
At the end of his speech, the captain walks away,
leaving behind the man with the cat-o’-nine-tails, who looks down at the new press-gang and smiles like a jackal.
Jarkul looks up the mast to see what colors the wormwood is flying.
Once the captain has finished his spiel and mosyed off, he begins a rant of his own. "Landlubber!? I've been sailing since ye were sucking on yer mam's teet and I'll probably be sailing still when yer grandchildren be cold in their graves." The dwarf stares down the man with the whip, oblivious to any consequences. "Then, ye be press ganging willy nilly, grabbing a priestess of the sea queen 'erself and nary a customary lord's shilling* in sight. Tis shameful and sloppy. Mark my words, any boat run like this be asking for an ill end."
Jarkul takes a deep breath and calms somewhat before continuing. "Now, I'm a generous sort, so I'll make ye a deal. Ye dispense with this bravado tomfoolery and cut us in for proper shares of the booty and we'll make this tub fly for ye. On the flipside, should ye persist, ye may find her floundering when it counts."
Terz closes his mouth that had dropped open. He shifts his vision about to see where the attack will come from and if he will be avoided. This is not going to go well. Once the dwarf finishes his peace he drops his face into his palm.
No'bu looks out of the corner of his eye at the cat folk. They were clearly thinking the same thing. I bet we see what sorta discipline they hand out... He holds his tongue while the scene plays out. If there were shares to plunder to be handed out, now that was interesting to him.
Akadi is amused by the dwarf, and shots him a smile, but doesn't step up to help him just yet. She wsnts to watch the unfolding a little. Glancing around she notes her attitude appears to be shared by the others here.
Zaketta listens carefully to the Captain's lecture, and makes a note to herself to curb her normally saucy tongue around him - it wouldn't do to get on the man's bad side... yet.
She positively perks up when the press-ganged dwarf unleashes his tirade. It was a bold - even foolhardy - act of defiance, but Zaketta could see behind it the dedication of a real sailor.
This dwarf knows what a swab's due, but he also knows what a captain should expect in return. He'll be a good one to have on board.
Zaketta cast a sidelong glance to the opinionated dwarf and gave him a conspiratorial wink, though she kept her mouth shut for now. Mouthing off to one of the mates was one thing, but this captain was no one to be trifled with - that much she could tell already.
"Let's see if your worth your share before you get so much as a place to rest yer head. Climb to the crows nest the lot of yeh fastest is best." As he lashes the cat o' nine tails against his thigh.
No'bu wasn't used to dancing at jig at the command of anyone, but as earlier, he wasn't sure of the rules of this vessel. Usually, the first mate's word was law, so he grabbed ahold of of rigging and tried to muscle up to the top.
Climb
Climb
Climb
Climb
It didn't go very well for the orc.
Jarkul considers the pirate for a moment scratching his beard, then snorts. "Fair enough ye lice-ridden swabbie. Come along me hearties, lets show these bilge drinkers how it's done." With that, the dwarf darts up the rigging with a vengeance, not shying away from an elbow or kick on those that get too close (This is a race, after all).
Terz attacks the ropes and makes his way to the top.
"These limbs o' mine do be made for dancin' not climbin'" Nonetheless Akadi scampers up the ropes.
Climb:
Climb:
Climb:
Climb:
Zaketta crackles her knuckles and rolls up her sleeves when Plugg gives the first task, but on seeing Terz scramble up the rigging, she decides to see what that giant feline was capable of. She whistles loudly through her teeth to catch his attention, then shoot him a challenging look as she begins hauling herself up the ropes.
She nearly reaches the top when a strong sea breeze comes up unexpectedly and throws her off balance. She teeters precariously for a moment before tumbling all the way back down to the deck.
No'bu does not do well and in the time it took for him to get even a fourth of the way up Terz was already in the crows nest. Fortunately for Jarkul, No'bu was near enough to untangle his blunder. Apparently peg-legs and rigging do not make good dance partners.[ooc]Nat 1's in my games are always failures just like nat 20's are always success.[ooc]
Akadi Tana does well for about 15 feet before stalling. Terz is pushed to his limits to keep up with Zaketta until they reach the crows nest as Zaketta falls Terz is able to snatch an unattached line and swing out gallantly, snatching her from midair.
Mr.Plugg breaks off from taunting the dwarf's incompetence to whistle at Terz' acrobatics.
As Terz lands nimbly on the deck Mr. Plugg stomps over with a grin on his face, "Yer a rigger now cat, though keep the fancy stuff to minimum." As the remainder gather yourselves and line up he speaks again, "Which of yeh can cook?"
The Orc responds with a trick he had learned on a prior vessel. When the boss asks for a volunteer, he took a half step backwards, hopefully making the others appear much more eager than he. He kept his vision mostly focused on the deck, knowing this would not play to what meager strengths he had.
Terz sets the priestess down, "No worries, priestess, ole Lux has your back."
Zaketta laughs in glee as Terz swings out to grab her like a hero in a story, then gives him an affectionate scratch behind the ears.
"You're not half bad, fuzzy britches," she mutters to him when they return to the deck. "And you clearly know your way around a ship's rigging. I owe you one."
Zaketta bristles when Plugg asks about cooking; she had spent more time serving ale and meat to sailors than she ever cared to remember, and she had no intention of being anyone's slop-wench ever again.
"I cook about as well as the dwarf climbs," she says, hooking a thumb toward Jarkul.
"Razzle frazzing git damned son-of-a-babau" Obscenities stream from the now dwarf, now hanging upside down, tangled in the rigging. He rebuffs any attempts at assistance, eventually managing to free himself and landing with a thud on the deck.
"Dirty trick that, setting a snare on the third rope." He glares at Mr. Plugg. When the call comes for cooks, he neither steps forward nor back.
"Cook, hmmm I could try yes - not practiced much" Akadi looks grins, amused by the idea, but has no particular affinity for cooking (+1 from Wisdom?)
Well laying low and not drawing attention to myself is not going well. Terz looks about trying to read the faces of the crew looking to see if anyone is giving him the stink eye. If there is one thing that makes you a mark for a beating among prisoners more than weakness its standing out. Where is the fight going to come from?
The ship at the moment flies no flag and is unlikely to do so until it runs into prey, although when it does it Flies a skull over a pair of shackles on a black and red four square checker pattern.
As Mr. Plugg stomps down the line without a clear affirmitive answer, he stops before Jarkul, who in Mr. Plugg's eyes appears the fattest. "Yer the new cooks mate, hopefull you won't get tangled up down there Ha! The rest of you lot are swabs under the loving care of Master Scourge."
As Mr. Plugg jerks his head over to the man with the bandana.
Master Scourge cracks his whip, "To work with the lot of yeh!"
exudes an air of neglect, perhaps even despair, from the bushy tufts of black hair behind his ears, to his rotting teeth, to the stains on his filthy apron. He walks with a wallowing waddle, as he explains your duties which consist mostly of preparing meals, and actually acquiring food for meals by fishing on a fairly regular basis. At one point he looks around suspiciously before saying, "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 Cap’n Harrigan in all your days at sea, and his crew’s the same, ’specially the 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. But they leave me alone, mostly. They know I can’t ’arm ’em"
Terz is directed to do line work.
The rest of the party aside from Terz and Jarkul are directed to work repairs on the ship.
Captain Harrigan is celebrating filling out his crew today. Fortunately Kroop is sober today.
Terz starts to figure by the attitude of those around him and the tone of orders that he is not doing hot. When Plugg or Scourge are nearby not brating his performance he rubs his shoulder and comments aloud where either can hear, "Pulled my shoulder saving falling priestesses." He then unconvincingly because he is tired claps his hands eager for more, "I'll work it out. Come on lads I'm still wth ya."
The Orc wasn't scared of swab duty. He'd performed this job on boats in the past, only difference was it had been his choice on those. As he worked on repairing the ropes for the rigging, he looked to around to get the measure of the other sailors on the boat.
Perception
Sailor
"Ye best watch yerself, ya sturgeon lipped jackanape. We wouldn't want an errant fishbone piercing that pretty little throat of yours." Jarkul swaggers back down below decks, ignoring any reply.
The dwarf slices the hog with skill, this is clearly not the first animal he has butchered.
As the fat man cooks, Jarkul turns the knife in his hand, checking the balance and looks about for a stone upon which to sharpen it. Once he is happy with the state of the blade, he adopts a ruse of learning the lay of the galley. In truth, his purpose is to find a few more knives and see where the ship's taggit supply is kept.
"That be clear from the moment these ne'er do decents opened their slop holes. As I marked above, any ship in this shape be sailing for ruin. I've a feeling ol' 'arrigan and his cronies be getting what's coming afore too long." He taps the side of his nose knowingly.
Akadi gets to work, her signature cheerfulness either infecting or grating or those around her.
While working she listens to the wind as it buffets the sails and tries to work out which grew seem most discontent with the Captain.
While she's happy to work, the skies didn't call her here to serve as a slave, so she needs to work her way up - she doubts she'll get into the captains good graces, so she looks for ways to remove the head.
Zaketta happily went about the daily work of the ship - shanghaied or not, it was good to be on a proper vessel... and if she could figure out a way to undermine the officers, then it might just become her vessel.
Noticing Nobu's trouble with the ropes, Zaketta offered some friendly advice.
"You want to splice those lines, friend - they'll just break right apart if you don't twist them together in the right way. Here, like this."
Zaketta demonstrated with her own ropes.
Noticing Akadi's cheerfulness, Zaketta called out to her across the deck:
"I don't think I've seen too many shanghaied sailors so happy to be about their business. You're certainly a cheerful one, aren't you?
Profession: Sailor
I've counted an extra +1 from the spell Guidance
Akadi smiles at the priestess, "ye don' look so dishearted yeself, wind blows where it will, gettin' all bent over it won't change nothing."
Akadi notes to watch the priestess, she had an attitude complimenting her own, and would make a good ally.
The day passes slowly and Master Scourge berates and whips No'Bu and Terz for their mistakes. The others feel their status among the fellow crew rise slightly.
Terz is fatigued, but does his best to put on a look unmoved and unimpressed by Scourge not defiant, he knows after all its coming. "Rough day I can take my licks bossman."
No'bu shook his head, knowing the beating was coming, when he screwed up his rope duties. He tried to keep a stiff upper lip, during the punishment, but he could help but wince at the lashings.
Afterwards, he attempts to strike up a conversation with the expert roper. "Thanks, I appreciate the advice. That damn shirt splice knot has its way with me every time, seems like. As long as I've been on a boat, you'd think it'd stick. I'm No'bu, by theway.," he nods at the female.
Terz finds a place to sit and wait for orders hoping there is a decent meal ahead before he can get some sleep.
Akadi is curious, she's seen whippings before but idly wonders as to their purpose, is it some ritual wherein the target gains skill by being whipped?
Or is it simply for entertainment?
She decides after a few moments thought that there is no merit in the practice, and resolves to see if she can aid the Orc or the Cat in future, though neither seem overly offended by their treatment.
Zaketta chuckled at Akadi's easy-going philosophy.
"That's not a bad notion, friend. I'll try to keep it in mind the next time I'm working the bilges."
Zaketta watched impassively as the beatings were given out. She didn't particularly want to see the other new crew lashed, but ship discipline was an important thing - sometimes you had to flog a few swabs to keep things running smoothly.
"Zaketta Flynn", she replied to No'bu when he introduced himself. "Though some folks call me 'Mad Zak.' You can take your pick. You took that flogging pretty well - though with the lubberly way you handled that rope, maybe you've just gotten used to such rough treatment." Zaketta chuckled good naturedly and gave No'bu a punch in the arm. "Whattaya say we go cheer up the Ratcatcher, eh? He looks lonesome by himself over there."
Zaketta walked over to where Terz was sitting and gave him a friendly scratch behind the ears.
Hey there, Mouser - tough luck today, eh? But I won't be forgetting that you kept me from cracking my head on the deck. This here's No'bu, and I'm Zaketta. Whatsay we throw in together, for fortune or famine? On a ship like this, it's best to have a few friends to help watch your back."
Looking around, Zaketta saw Akadi peering about reflectively. She waved her over with a shout: "C'mere, Windy! We're getting acquainted!"
The evening passes well as the expertly cut and roasted pig impresses all. Jarkul enjoys a mild bit of celebrity for it.
