Sunny's large blue eyes grow a little wider at Nissa's whisper.
"Oooooooo....
“Lux,” what a name. My family wiped out, enslaved, enslaved again and now I am little more than a vagrant with only the skills to be back at sea aboard a ship. Perhaps I can find a boat that will at least give me a wage for my work. Deep in thought Terz makes his way through the streets of Port Peril lost in thought. He wanders toward a tavern he hopes to find work aboard a ship. He walks unsure of his freedom. So long a slave, and a conscript. He has found the little coin he had jumped ship with not to spread as far as he had hoped. Not enough he knows to get to Sargava. Perhaps I can work my way to Sargava and find honest work or . . . if the only work be a turn in the sweet trade I pray to Cayden that we hunt a fair share of Chells. Not that there are many innocent in these waters. If nothing else a song, a brew, and bit of grub will do me well. He finds himself outside the Formidably Maid.
He pushes the door aside and looks about a moment. Ahh music . . . this’ll do. He steps into the light of the tavern. Terz is a grey furred catfolk with black spots and stripes. A tabby some of jested, though is that wise. He wears a sturdy hide shirt deep brown the color of leather that has been wet more than dry. He has an array of boarding axes stashed about his belt and across his back, what does one do with more than two axes. He has a small pack little more than a blanket and some sundries wrapped in a fishnet hammock. As he walks in his tail shifts and curls back and forth more in time with the music after a moment. He makes a path toward the bar. He nods to the keep, ”Tender, I’ll have an ale . . . nothing Chell.” He waits patiently and continues to survey the bar. Half-orc not so happy. I’ll watch out for him. Group drinking by the singer, seems a bunch that I could mingle in with or near. He sees a scary man (Chumtooth) and tries to not let on that he notices him, whoa never seen his like, seems feral, I will be steering clear if I can, but I imagine what that takes the time to get dressed like that wants to be avoided. No argues here.When his drink comes he smiles and thanks the bartender, ”Keeps you hear of any ships looking for sailors? Haps you can point me in the right direction.”
As he makes his way to a seat near the singer he notes the garishly dressed small one. Is that a gnome, must be. Poor guy looks out of sorts. As he pulls out his chair he address the circle of revelers nearby, ”Heya, you all look to be already aquainted, shipmates I hope, any chance your crew looking for a solid rigger, I take to ropes like fishes to the sea. Lux most call me.”
Nissa blinks at the anthropomorphic cat. A Rakshaha, here!? This is just like a real adventure!
"No, son of Ravana, we are not shipmates, but we were discussing adventure and the seas. You are welcome join our conversation if it pleases you."
As she speaks, the young woman makes a complicated series of hand gestures.
Terz smiles confused, "Ravana . . . my mothers name was Dreasse," He looks very sad a moment. Then realizing after a moment her hanging implication. This one thinks me from Ramapore. "Most Lords of Ramapore do not dress as royal and stately as I." He gestures to his ragged storm and brine worn armor and rags. "I am from the lands you call the expanse. By way of Droon slavers, by way of Sargavan masters, Chellish slavers and now free."
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Malak was enjoying the scene. He could really tell who the real pirates were, seasoned by storms on the sea, salt in their blood, and good in their pockets. He wasn't part of the group, but was listening nonetheless. He found it interesting, the interactions between common faces and old sailing partners. Yet, here he stood. Propped up against the bar watching, but not engaging. After all, why should he? There is no reason to trust this lot. Especially if a few may be true pirates like himself. The only way to win is to survive and that means looking out for your own skin.
The hefty half-orc pounded his empty mug on the counter and took a gulp of the second one he has ordered. "Bah! How many of you be real sons and daughters of the seas?! Who of ye have learned only to survive, being well aware that each day brings death! Which one of ye have killed a man because he was ugly and no reason else? How many times have you raided a ship in the midst of a gale while a kraken itself made you it's prey? Have any of you been raised and breathed the pirate life just to be cast out at sea by mutineers?! I will get my revenge on those bloody traitors! I didn't fight to survive this long to die like a landblubber. I'll die with my blade in my hand soaked in the blood of my enemies. I'll die surrounded by riches. I'll die with by ship. Now, my buccaneers, which of these is you?" With that Malak slammed his mug of ale down, some swishing out onto the counter and kicked over a stool next to him. "I'm Malak Wavecrasher, formally of the Gale's Dread, now captained my a traitorous piece of... Ahum, I was born orphan captured and raised by pirates. The sea is my home, salt is my blood, and I'm true to my ship. Now, who wants to arm wrestle?!"
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Isabella slams another drink and sets down her glass. "I got word that he may have escaped slavery, and this is where my search has led me. As to you," she eyes the Kuru, "Love is a stronger bond than the lust that... whatever you are... your kind obviously employs."
When the half-orc makes his speech, Isabella merely ignores him. She will not be drawn into a contest with crude taunts.
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Accepting the bottle from the dwarf, Sasha grins, "Bottoms up, master dwarf!" She then takes a swig from the bottle, after which she momentarily breaks into a cough.
When Chumtooth speaks up, the half-elf leans back slightly, wary of the weird-looking hulk of a man.
Suddenly the half-orc bursts out into a speech, which Sasha listened too with her mouth half-open. When he seems done, she answers him, "Ahoy there Malak, I'm Sasha Killigrew, or Red, whichever ye prefer. And I'll have ye know I've crushed seventeen men's skulls between me thighs," Sasha winks slyly at him. "Now if it's all the same to ye, I don't plan on dying any time soon, but play your cards right, and mayhap I'll let ye drop anchor in my lagoon," she says with a playful smirk.
She then leans a bit closer to Stormbeard, whispering, "I bet ye could take him."
Bramzit watches the half-orc in his boast, an idea forming. Leaping back up onto a table so he can be heard he calls out to the group "I'll even take bets if we have a challenger! Come on, who wants to test this mighty mans mettle. You've all heard his boasts, who wants to prove they're a better man... or woman... than he!"
At Sasha comments, the Halfling continues to laugh, "And I bet they died happily, but I think we should keep to arm wrestling tonight, at least here in the pub. Besides, I believe the wrestling event is tomorrow, wouldn't want to spoil the main event, eh!"
Suddenly conscious of is "differentness" Terz makes moves to take his seat as though the exchanges going on around him have nothing to do with him and little of note is happening. Nothing to see here just a plain ole pub goer sitting in his place. I have no desire to get beat or to beat anyone frankly nasty business. He takes another pull on his ale and looks about trying to strategically size up what will happen next.
Taken aback by Sasha's lewd implications, curious about whether the elven folk-singer was dismayed by the little man's yelling during her performance, and busy trying to look natural -- Nissa is a touch distracted.
"Slavery? Oh, yes . . . that sounds woeful. I'm glad you have made good on your escape. This is Sunny and this dwarf (?) is Dia . . ."
Escaped slaves, failed pirates, excitable, little men, and dockside prostitutes -- Mother may have been right about alcohol. It makes one over eager to share.
Sunny helps Nissa out by adding, "Strom-beard!" She calls, before leaning forward and knocks mug rims with Terz,
"Tabaxii?" She points to his-self as she asks the question. Shifting to sit a little closer as every one gets a tad more boisterous.
A deep gravely rumble erupts from Chumtooth's throat at the red-haired Other's retort.
"A strange custom, this thing you Others call lu-uhv."
He turns to the half-orc. He smiles wide, displaying his grisly canine teeth.
"Now, This One, Chumtooth understands! He speaks of his great strength. He speaks of those he has killed. He calls for challenge! What is arm-wrestle? What sort of test is it?"
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"Well, it's not one where you have to worry about that ugly face getting any worse!" Malak responds with hearty laughter. "Oh, is this true Red? Unfortunately, I have quite the thick skull and tusks to boot." He says while pointing to the two protruding and large tusks with a wink. Then turning back to Chumtooth, "You see here Bait-face, it's a contest of strength. We both sit at a table, hands locked together, elbows resting on the table. Then we try to force the other's hand to touch the table. Quite a simple game, even one you can compete in!" Malak charades while explaining to Chumtooth, trying to make it as easy as possible. Malak then pulls up a table and chairs. He drops his pack and removes the bandana from his wristand ties it around his head. Then he takes his great falchion and stabs it into the floor behind his chair. Leans his boarding pike onto the hilt of the falchion. He plops into the chair and puts an arm on the table ready to wrestle. His arm full of soft pink scars on his light green skin. His fiery orange eyes looking around the room. He grabs an ale from a nearby barkeep and splashes it down his mouth. "Lessgo now! Ye all bees pirates? Then be merry and drinks till you drop! Or flop! Haha, like a fish! Get it?!" At this point Malak has had about four full tankards of ale, he's borderline drunk but still coherent and conscious.
Terz happy to see the mood improving in the room he thumps the table, "I'll drink to that." He heartily pounds the rest of his ale.
Sunny continues to laugh and smile along with every one's antics. Though she herself is still content to sip and savour her Rum.
(^_^)
Hearing Malak's 'toast' he decides to follow suit and drink up. Blacktail starts to pull at his pant leg and Ben looks at the cup to see it is empty. He refills it with what is left of his waterskin so Blacktail can continue drinking.
Chumtooth drives the point of his harpoon into the floor, leaving the shaft to vibrate a moment beside the chair. He sits down at the table across from the huge half-orc.
"So we begin your game of arm-wrestle, Turtle-skin."
His dark eyes gleam with a feral excitement as he removes his buckler and places his elbow on the table.
"More ay-yuhl with blood!" he calls to the barkeep, a barks another gravelly laugh.
Aramis laughs heartily and claps Zaketta on the back, raising her bottle of rotgut to clink with hers. "Aye, but there's been so many of 'em, I can't even remember the poor lad's name!" she chuckles, taking another deep swig. "A' course, that could be tha rum talkin', eh?" She laughs again at her own joke, unfunny as it is. "Y... y'know... maybe we should get our own ship, eh?" she says suddenly, gripping the other woman's shoulder with drunken honesty in her eyes. "Get arselves a ship, an' a crew, an' a few greased-up sailor boys... ow's four ah foive each sound, eh? Long 's they know 'ow ta 'hoist th' mainsail', eh?" She leans back in her chair, laughing, clapping her hands together. It's pretty clear she's drunk now. "I c'd be cap'n!" she giggles. "Cap'n o' me own ship! Me ol' pappy'd be so proud!" She takes another deep drink, nearly halfway through the bottle now, pausing to giggle under her breath again.
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Malak grabs the predators hand in his own. His blazing eyes shining with ferocity. He grins, his bestial tusks prominently coming from his jaw. He squeezes Chumtooth's hand and shakes it slightly. "Oh, you're in for it now Wild-cat! This will be brilliant! Gather round and take your bets fellows!" Malak tightens his arms and breathes deeply. This beast could be a challenge. "For gold, blood, and honor my rotten toothed friend. On three... One." Hopefully, there can be gold won from this. "Two..." Let's try not to spill blood though, there are too many...even for me... "THREE!!!!" But a real pirate knows there is no honor in a world of survival, do anything in the face of odds... Malak, growls intensely as he exerts his strength. Trying to match the animal ferocity that Chumtooth possesses.
The dwarf chuckles and for the first time, pushes his short, stubby fingers through surprisingly red hair of his own, showing the series of braids in it. The action, though, causes the hair to almost turn fin-like, following the curve of his head.
His chuckle grows as he speaks, rejoining in the drinking, his chug much larger and some of the fiery brown liqueur dribbling onto his beard. "Diabolito Stormbeard. The 'Little Devil' who swims with sharks. That's me."
Sunny moves to where she can better watch the men folk make a spectacle of themselves. (^_~)
Shoving the cork back into the bottle, the dwarf staggers slightly as he stands back up and moves over to the arm-wrestlers. Leaning over to Sunny, he smirks, cracking his knuckles. "Think I should test how a drunken dwarf wrestles 'em?"
"From your stories, Stormbeard, you are a lot of man. Be careful you do not make them feel bad in comparison," Nissa jokes.
She gives Suny a light slap on the back and a smile. "Do not get into too much trouble. We have adventure and danger in the Ghol-Gan ruins later."
Turning to Aramis, "I think women commanding their own vessel is a wonderful idea -- to adventure and glory!"
Sunny gives Nissa a return hug in response to the pat on the back and joins in her toast to women's abilities. (^_^)
"So. When people's want ta' show off them selfs ta' get tha' attention of others. Whut is it they do?" Sunny asks Nissa, still with an arm around the other woman.
"Back home, they jump of things generally. Usually the tallest cliffs they can find." Sunny explains even as she watches the contest between the two blokes at the table.
Nissa will stiffen for a spilt-second before relaxing into Sunny's hug.
"Where I am from if one wants to impress, one might try to out run of djinn. Or, perhaps, recite all seventeen hundred stanzas of Ibn-Kallah's Esoteric Verses. Once I saw a paladin present the thakur the head of one of Rava . . .."
Nissa stops abruptly and gives Lux a nervous look. Again her hands flash in a complicated series of gestures.
"Gee...... That all sounds comp-lee-catered." And Sunny blinks, puzzled by Nissa's actions.
"Here. Why ye be wavin' at tha' Tabaxii?" Then Sunny giggles conspiratorially hugging Nissa closer,
"Hehe, d'ye find Tabaxii cute?" She whispers.
"Tha' few chances I gots were a right pleasant snugglin'." (^_^)
Chumtooth heaves against the mighty green-skinned Other, bearing his pointed teeth in a wicked grin. He feels the balance of the contest shift, as the half-orc's arm drop's toward the table.
Malak looks at the crowd and winks with a sly grin. "Damn, you're ugly. Makes sense that pure brawn is all you've got."
Suddenly, his chair flips out from under him, and he falls to the floor.
Malak starts laughing full of pride in his ruse. "Come on, can't expect me to lose here in front of the lasses! No harm, right saw-tooth? It's all in a pirate's nature. Let me get you some more ale. Haha, you're one hell of a fighter. I can tell by your eyes. You and I would do some havok on the seas together!" Then Malak stands and extends a hand to help Chumtooth up.
Chumtooth snarls, then leaps to a standing position. He gives the one called Malak an appraising look.
"You have much strength, Ma-luhk. Your flesh could feed the people of my village for the turning of a moon, only my people do not eat the meat that his turned green. Haw Haw Harr!"
Sunny joins in the cheering and the laughter. (^_^)
Bramzit seems rather surprised no one took him up on his offer to house bets. Never met pirates that didn’t want to gamble… odd. he ponders as the raucous laughter over the challenge washes over him. Good thing too, I suppose, I would have lost money! With the thought of money comes the painful reminder of his lack of serious coin. Yes he could put on a good show, but he aint buying anything fun anytime soon.
May as well partake in this sport among pirates.
This person who doesn't look like he could lift a table, and doesn't even look like a pirate except for his facial features which vaguely resembles a notorious pirate captain, walks up and challenges Chumtooth.
"Mind if I try?"
Chumtooth's arm screams with pain after his battle with Malak, and it takes an unusual amount of effort to defeat the smaller man. Nevertheless, he revels in his victory with a bloodcurdling roar, and a thump of his fist against his leather breastplate.
He pats Ben a bit too forcefully on the shoulder.
"Well fought! You have shown courage, and that is good!"
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Typical men, always wantin' to show off. The half-elf puts her hand on Stormbeard's fists, "Now now, a real man shouldn't need to prove himself with such blatant games, no matter how much I'd enjoy seeing ye all have a good brawl."
Leaning over to Nissa and Sunny, Sasha jests, "Just so ye know, if they start a pissing contest next, I'm outta here."
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Malak laughs at Chumtooth's primal humor. The beast has a wild strength, however, Malak was sure if it came down to it he would not be the one being eaten. Survival. Malak's eyes gleam, realizing that Chumtooth can become a potential ally. "Well, wouldn't that be the day!" Malak hears the half-elf's comment from next to the dwarf. "Haha, let's be certain here Red. You would be the target!!!" Then Malak pulls his chair back up and guzzles down more ale. Content to enjoy this day, because in the future he will be facing less recreation. I'll get back on the seas....and when I do, the whole world best be ready...
Shaking his head, he blows a bit of hot air out of his mouth. Or what you can assume is a mouth beneath the heavy dwarven beard. "Pah. The only time there's pissing around me is by my scared enemies!" More guzzling follows the comment, as well as raucous laughter.
"'Sides, I ain't rollin' in the hay tonight. Seen too many take that route and end up in the bay or out at sea unexpected like."
He strokes his beard trying to decide on what to do next. "So I'm assuming I'm not the only one looking for a good ship, eh?"
"Correction, lass: Getting drunk on a boat would be better!" His laughter rings out as he tosses the bottle to Sasha.
Shocked, Nissa replies to Sasha, "Men urinate in public here?"
Sunny sniffs the air inquisitively, "I done smell nuffin..?" She says quietly, then returns to enjoying the atmosphere of fun and frivolity. Still with a friendly arm around Nissa. (^_^)
Terz loosens up a little as more laughs than challenges are levied. The wave of his tail shifts from taught to supple in its movements. This survivor Malak, he is one to watch for even in his boasts and challenges he makes an uneasy friend. Terz’ laugh snorts a bit when Nissa brings up urinating in public. Terz looks to Nissa, ”You seem off pitch, more than you expected to find in here?”
"Chumtooth travels on a ship. Chumtooth kills big whales. Chumtooth guts and cuts whales. Others on this ship make whales into oil. What is this pie-rut-tinn?"
"A 'pirate' plunders the oceans for treasures, sometimes even praying on ships that are passing by. They are so enthralled by it that they are willing to kill others for it, sometimes even other pirates. And they use that treasure to buy even bigger ships and more luxurious or exotic supplies. Or that is what I've been told anyway, I've never actually sailed the seas nor found myself on a pirate crew. But I guess that is why I'm here, to see if any crew will take me."
"Hey now! It's a valid profession, dog boy!" The dwarf pipes up and waggles a finger at the other druid, scolding him. "Just cause there's plunderin' and treasure doesn't mean it's a bad thing. No less natural than a shark taking out a wounded fish or other creature in its habitat. It's just part of its nature."
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"The little one speaks true. We do more than plunder little whelp. We brave the unknown and face horrors on the seas none the likes that your land loving life has seen. I've seen a giant monster pull a whole ship down into the cold depths, all the while my crew took the chance to grab riches from the ship shortly before. We may go out for riches and blood, but I dare say I know of nothing more exciting. It gets my blood hot, boarding a prey ship and seizing all they have." Malak smiles, recounting old memories out on a ship. Dreaming of his former crew and the gory raids they got in. He starts getting bloodthirsty just thinking of going on a raid again. "Well, Chummy I do believe if you imagine an enemy ship to be a large wooden whale you'll do just fine. Haha, just don't go trying to eat any cannonballs or black powder. You would lose what little charm you have now!"
The door swings open and a tall, and notably rotund man walks through the door carrying a couple bags. He stops for a moment to wipe the sweat off his brow with his handkerchief, then heads to the nearest empty spot at a table.
Behind him enter two men, one carrying a large footlocker, and the other a locked box which rattles and clinks as he moves. "Where d'you want these, Doc?" one of the two men asks him.
Doc waves his hand towards an unused section of wall nearby and says, "Over there will be fine."
The other man looks around and replies, "Are you sure you want to leave these where you can't watch them directly? This ain't the sort of place to be leavin' things unattended."
Doc laughs jovially as he begins digging out his coin pouch, "Oh, I'm not worried about that, you'd have to be daft to steal my gear, it's only good in the hands of someone who knows how to put it to use. I doubt there's a man within a thousand miles of here who knows what to do with it. Thief'd be better off stealin' me, Hah! "
Doc digs out some gold and hands it to them men, who begin arguing over its division as they leave the bar.
He pulls up a chair and calls to the nearest barmaid, holding up a couple silver to get her attention faster. "Miss, bring me two large bowls of whatever stew you've got, some bread, a shotglass with two fingers of your best brandy, an empty mug, and fill this with boiling water if you would, thanks!"
The barmaid takes the silver from him along with an odd metal pot he dug out of his bag and runs off to the back. She returns along with another barmaid, carrying out the stew and various things asked for. After paying, Doc digs out what appears to be some leaves and adds them to the pot before beginning to eat his dinner. After eating for a few minutes he pours the rather aromatic water from the pot into his mug and dumps the shot of brandy into it, giving it a moment before drinking deeply from it.
After setting his mug down, he looks about the room. Seeing the boisterous discussions going on at the nearby tables Doc calls out, "Hello there friends, any of you know of any ships sailing out of here shortly in need of a doctor?"
Sunny turns, waves and smiles brightly at the new follow who's address her self. (^_^)
The dwarf leans over to Sunny, blinking several times before he speaks in a hushed tone. "Doesn't he look a bit like a tall, shaved dwarf?"
"I never said it wasn't a valid profession, in fact as I previously said I came here to join a crew. I have always felt more at home when swimming in the ocean than ever walking on land and I thought that joining a crew would be a better idea than joining any empire's navy. I'd rather be on the winning side of the fight. And I know that Blacktail would rather be free to do whatever he wants than be shackled by the rules of any empire."
Blacktail barks in agreement.
The dwarf leans over to Sunny, blinking several times before he speaks in a hushed tone. "Doesn't he look a bit like a tall, shaved dwarf?"
Nissa giggles at the image, "Maybe he knows how to quaff!"
Terz loosens up a little as more laughs than challenges are levied. The wave of his tail shifts from taught to supple in its movements. This survivor Malak, he is one to watch for even in his boasts and challenges he makes an uneasy friend. Terz’ laugh snorts a bit when Nissa brings up urinating in public. Terz looks to Nissa, ”You seem off pitch, more than you expected to find in here?”
Leaning back into Sunny's hug, Nissa laughs. Though there is music in her laughter it does nothing to cover the obvious lie of her next statement: "Of course not! This certainly is not my first time in a tavern, and this is not my first ale."
"Is it your first time? Do not worry I will not tell."