Cog, his voice not something that is heard often unless it is dealing with fighting or gambling pipes up, "It might be smarter to start with the highest and give everyone the rest of the night to think things over. Don't release them as prisoners yet, but show them what is going to happen to those who have done wrong by your unless they show remorse. Looking at sheer number of bodies...we are short on em and if she can be an extra set of hands...well, it might not be bad to have her on board. Let's be fair...we did attack their ship because it was do that or die. She might just be doing whatever it takes to stay alive..." an odd amount of restraint by the ordinarily angry man.
"I'd imagine she's got it in for us, or at least me." Doc says with a chuckle as Cog finishes. "I did my best to get her worked up while we were fighting, and I may have been less than polite about it."
"But on the other hand you've got a point Cog, this was the ship she served on, given some sweet talkin' from Maera mayhaps we can convince her to let bygones be bygones. So I think lettin' Plugg's end sink in overnight before discussing the future of the vessel with the officer and former crew is the way to go."
Nissa look to her fellow captains for their input. "Both Cog and Sandara are correct: we do need able and willing bodies. What we do not need, however, is competing lines of authority. She has already shown her self willing to plot against us. I do not blame her for fighting us, but neither do I want to set the conditions of another mutiny. Do you think she is worth the risk? That is the question we will need to reflect on tonight after Scourge's execution."
With that she exits the cabin.
The cool evening air is refreshing against her light, dusky skin as she steps lightly across the deck. She stops when she is a few paces behind Malak.
"I've been wanting to thank you, Malak. You have been a good friend and fellow warrior. My sister-captains and I would like to know if you would enjoy the honor of beheading Scourge this evening?"
Though he beat me, he did not break me, and it is he not I who fell when we met in battle. I will soon forget your name, unclean one.
"Ah'm not one fer executin' folk. Way Ah see it, all's fair 'n battle an' all. Ah'm not 'bout ta stop Malak from 'avin 'is way wit' Scourge - man deserves it, plain an' simple. Malak wants ta kill 'im, let 'im. Tha' lass? Ah'm wit' both Niss' an' Doc 'ere. Give 'er a chance ta stew on wha' 'appens ta Scourge, an' see where tha' goes."
Maera nods quietly after Sandara, and their other shipmates fill the other roles in fine order. "We've had cramped quarters 'fore, we'll make do," she responds to sharing the berth, not finding it to be an issue compared to other things.
"Agreed. The woman cannot be faulted for picking the side she thought the strongest when put in the same situation as we. Obviously, she will know better. We will make sure of it. Or she'll go the way of Scourge and Plugg." she says to her sister-captains, more than willing to use her magic to encourage cooperation if this show of force does not. Having no objection to Scourge's demise via Malak, she nods her go-ahead.
"Oh," she adds, before she too turns to leave the cabin and follow to watch the execution. "I know I saw right durin' the mutiny. Somethin' in the deep tried attackin' the ship... tentacles up the sides. Best we be cautious until we're in Rickety's harbor."
After all three captains had come to an agreement, the captured crew was brought back to the main deck by various members of the new officer corps.
Seven of the prisoners are lined up to watch as the eighth, Scourge, is placed kneeling on the deck, ropes tied to his wrists in a very similar method as they had been tied to Ossok's.
Looking from Cog to Rosie, he chuckles, "Neither of you have it in you to kill me. None of you can throw out justice like that."
"Unfortunately for you, bastard, neither of them will be dishing out the punishment of our captain...s..."
With a slightly dramatic pause, Sandara then begins again, "Upon this day, Scourge, you have been found guilty of crimes against piracy, against the crew, and against Ol' Bess. For those crimes, you will be met with a swift and bloody fate, as ordered by our captains..."
She waves her hand, "Aramis Steele," another gesture, "Nissa Alami," and a third, "Maera. Our captains three."
"It is by the good graces of these three women that you," she looks to the other prisoners, "Will be given the night as a reprieve. You will sleep on what you are about to see and what you have seen and in the morrow, you will choose to either join the crew or join the depths." She then nods to Malak.
Diabolito just grins all the while, especially at Scourge. Cracking his knuckles, he looks to Sandara. "Hopefully we have an empty barrel or two in the hold, because he doesn't deserve to sully the water with his corpse."
He pauses and steps closer to the former officer. "Trash is bad for the wildlife."
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The big half-orc looks at his new captain and laughs. "Aye! Would be me pleasure Cap'n! Yer gunna need me on these seas 'n I'll be here too. I'll be the mad dog ye need to strike fear intah yer enemies and the weapon ye need to kill 'em. I'm the Wavecrasher, 'n for a strong Cap'n, I'll make a ship crumble." The barbarian pounds his chest with satisfaction and goes to lean against the mast.
Malaks starts laughing and jumps up from his leaning position at Sandara's cue. Grabbing the trident off his back he then points his weapon at Scourge and looks to the other prisoners. "Best be payin' attenshun tah me now mateys. Imma 'bout tah show ye why yer gonna listen to the new cap'ns. Got it? As fer you, Imma gonna make ye feel pain like ye never knew. Ye tried tah kill me 'n never could. Ya know why? 'Cause ye can't, jus' like ye can't kill the seas!" The sea reaver stands next to Scourge with a wild anger in his eyes, his teeth barred like a rapid beast, he beats his fist on his chest a couple times and lifts his trident above his and yells as he brings it down. Only he didn't bring it down on Scourge.
Instead, Malak slammed the trident down so that struck into the deck next to Scourge's face. Then the barbarian stomps on Scourge's back making him lay down on the deck. He places one foot between his shoulder blades with all his weight holding Scourge in place. Then Wavecrasher takes both hands and interlinks his fingers, placing them below Scourge's chin. He squeezes with all his might and starts pulling back. Keeping his foot in place, he starts growling and howling as his muscles start to ripple from the tremendous strength he is putting into them. Determined to rip Scourge's head off with his bare hands.
Malak's trident came down in such a fashion that is pinned Scourge by the neck to the deck. The barbarian seems to find amusement in this and begins laughing again as he pulls his falchion off his back. "Now this, is what happens when ye try tah kill me. Or if ye ain't gonna be playin' nice wit my cap'ns." With swift and terrifying strength, the half-orc brings the falchion's blade down nicely upon Scourge's neck. Creating a clean slice that sets the head rolling on the deck.
As Malak begins to pull, he goes into a rage and the extra strength is just enough to make the villain's body creak and groan against Malak's ministrations. Finally, the head is torn free with a crack and a twist, blood pouring everywhere, leaving Malak coated, and even Cog looks away at the violence that Malak shows.
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Malak shows the head to the prisoners and laughs. "See! This happen if'n yer gonna cross us!" He looks out to the horizon of the sea and with no effort throws the head as far as he can. He looks to his companions, unphased by the blood on himself. "Consider it a lil' offerin' to Bess. I think she knew he was deservin' it, ammiright?"
Nissa does not flinch from the bloodshed that she sees. It was not how she would have killed him, but he did deserve death. Those who pitied Scourge now were forgetting the sting of his lash.
"I cannot speak for the preferences of your pirate goddess, but I am well pleased. Many of us here felt his lash or were imprisoned by him. This ship will not be one of degradation and punishment, but make no mistake those who make themselves our enemies will fall. Those who abuse our friends will die. You who have fought us ponder this wisdom it is better to be our friends than our enemies. Our previous strife is behind us, let us go forward together as one crew."
She will repeat this in Vudrani as well.
Diabolito grins at the brutality, trying to remain composed in an officer-like manner but failing miserably at hiding his excitement at the spray of blood.
"Well, hopefully none of the wildlife get a'hold of it, 'cause it just ain't worth sullyin' the ocean. Besmara is pr'lly happy he's among the dead, though." He shakes his head and looks to the body. "Now his blood, on the other hand..."
Maera sighs with a surprising amount of self-satisfaction at the scene considering her prior reactions to Malak's brutality in the past but, then again, perhaps this sense of pirate justice appeals to the more capricious parts of her being....
"Good. Only one more to go, Ossok," she says simply, as reminder to herself and her oath.
After watching the spectacle, Doc looks and Malak and says "Well, I was going to say that he was lucky to be executed and not in my hands, but after seeing that, I'm think that he might have prefered to end up living as a stump of a man. Good job Malak!"
After the spectacle, everyone is fed and the 'prisoners' are returned to the area below. The new officers are free to search the officers quarters, though it had been looted by The Wormwood's crew.
That night, while the crew slept, a heavy storm sweeps in and rocks the boat, tearing it adrift, and as the thunder awakens much of the crew, there are some disturbing factors to be noted.
You see signs of more of the small tentacles below decks around the officers quarters. You also find Sandara's holy symbol on the deck near the starboard railing.
The ship has been damaged during the brief storm. It is seaworthy, but not for long.
The water barrels have been busted, while it will take little work to fix them, they are empty, leaving them with no fresh water.
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At the sight of the tentacles Malak pulls his trident from his back, eager to fight off whatever it may be. Then there is a subtle rocking of the ship. The pirate barbarian notices that the ship is not floating the same, there has been damage done. Without another second wasted, Malak moves with haste to the deck of the ship and begins ringing the ship's bell. "All hands to quarters! Seems we got us sum visitahs tah greet and a ship tah save!" The half-orc yells out these orders and repeats it a few times to make sure he is heard. Then he takes notice of Sandara's symbol and mutters a few curses under his breath as he strides over to pick it up. He looks out for any further signs of his crewmate before he readies himself to fight off whatever might be coming onboard.
That night Nissa burns Plugg's head as an offering to Waruna as she promised.
"We need to find land and our priestess. Is there a place she could have been taken close by?"
Aretta is brought forward, "There were little goblin looking things with tentacles...they took the Vudrani, as well. The storm started to blow through...and they ran before they could get anyone else."
"Make a course for this island. We have crew to rescue and vengeance to wreak."
"Indeed, let us make haste! It would be a shame to lose our friends, new crew and our ship right after we've saved them."
Diabolito speaks to each of his fellow "officers," keeping his voice low as he keeps looking to the horizon. "Lads and lasses, we need ta find land, and soon, 'cause we're outta fresh water...Fixin' 'em ain't an issue, but we're out completely."
And with that, he'll head below deck to oversee fixing the barrels.
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Malak, still standing on the deck with Nissa, leans on the rails and looks out towards the island. "I have a bad feelin' 'bout this. Ye know wer gonna have to keep sum of ya here to fix the ship. I can lead a group to search fer Sandara and the Vudrani. 'N I'm gonna kill ev'ry single one of 'em if they hurt here, she's good woman. Good crew." The barbarian clutches onto Sandara's symbol as he speaks, he is noticeably angered by the situation.
"We can take care of the ship, you guys are clearly the strongest of us and need to go rescue our friend..." Cog says as he steps forward, nodding behind himself to Rosie, Conch, Ambrose, and Owlbear. "We won't let more than two of the current captives out at a time, so we will never be outmanned, and between the few of us, we can keep the ship afloat until you return."
Maera inspects the remaining tentacles, and after listening to Aretta's report knows precisely what they're dealing with. "Grindylows," she sneers with obvious disdain for the creatures. "Awful things, goblins of the sea. All of the malice, just multiply the legs. We'll need to be hasty - they only play with their food for so long," she says quietly to her fellow officers.
Once the water barrels are fixed, Maera will fill them to the brim with Create Water. "It'll only last for a day - hopefully we'll be back by then, and it'll prevent us from having to waste time findin' water on the isle."
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Malak looks at Cog and growls, "Ye best be careful, dunno if ye can trust any of 'em yet, what wit ther leader stolen 'n all, so don' hestate tah kill 'em if they try sumthin'. As soon as we hit land we go, get yer things 'n be ready." The barbarian already has his things ready, his back pack on and full of any essentials he might need for the trek and fights to come. He stands at the rails, trident in hand.
Doc does his best to instruct those who will be staying behind as to what needs to be done to maintain the ship's seaworthiness. "Y'all take good care of her and we'll make sure to get those we've lost back in one piece!"
Diabolito, once above deck, grins and smiles into the salty air. "Goblins of the sea, ey, lass? Well, I've been looking for some thin' ya tear apart. Let's get ta findin' our lost and gettin the ship repaired!"
Nissa is ready to take the fight to the sea goblins.
"Grindylows, eh? Sounds like fun." Aramis grins as she secures her gun to her back. "Well, time's a wastin', so what say ye we give 'em hell?"
The group fill the two boats with no issues and are able to paddle over to the island. Though as they arrive, they see that it is largely just a cliff face and they must either go east or west.
"Aye, my bloodthirsty friend. To the west and to vic'try!"
"If everythin' went our way, life'd be mighty borin', Crasher!" Aramis crows, checking her musket to make sure it's loaded. "What's say we 'ead west, then?"
Taking out his axe, the dwarf points the way with it. "To the west then!"
Doc shrugs as the others try to figure out which way to go. "West it is then!"
As the boat continues along the cliff, Doc works on his potions, preparing them for the coming battle. As he finishes, he tosses one of them to Malak. "Here you go, your favorite brew!"
Over two hours pass as the cutters move through the water, searching for a place to land.
Occasionally skeletons can be spotted floating in the water, seemingly tethered in place.
No two are the same...
As the two boats finally come around the edge of the South side of the island, the entire Eastern side of the island is beach and jungle. A bit up the way there is a point where the boats could land, near a farm that is grown over. The landing point has several palm trees, some approaching 50 feet in height.
"Scrimshaw...Why would they be scrimshawed?..." the dwarf muses quietly, as he points out the nature of the bones.
Seeing the nature of the eastern side of the island, he just shrugs and lets loose a chuckle behind his toothy grin. "Ah, the capricious nature of Gozreh. Sometimes the ol' man giveth, and sometimes he sends ya head first inta tha drink."
Seeing the trees, he keeps his axe unsheathed and looks around, keeping a watch as each person comes off the small boat.
"Takes a whole lot o' force ta shatter a coconut," Aramis mutters, eyes narrowed as she glances at the palm trees. "Not sure wha' could a' done it, but we'd best keep our eyes an' ears open." After landing the boats, she jumps off, boots sinking into the sand, musket loaded and drawn.
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The half-orc looks to the dwarf as he paddles, "Scrimshawed? Whaddya say?"
When they walk onto the beach he pulls out his trident, wary of the signs the coconuts give. He moves slowly and quietly to the edge of the beach in case anything comes to confront them he'll be the first line of defense. The barbarian continues to mutter things under his breath, nothing that seems particularly intelligible.