Ossok stares at the one called Nissa, as if judging her intentions. After a moment, he quietly replies, "Ossok lost mask. Contains powerful spirits, Ossok needs if to continue healing others. Is wooden, with red markings. If you find, Ossok will be eternally grateful."
Giving Ossok a steady look, Nissa replies. "From my lips to Lihka's ears: I will have your mask returned if I am able."
"Nay, lass," Aramis calls to Maera, grinning broadly. "Sing th' rest. Y' know, wit' the creakin' and the leakin' ship, an' the burnin' sails. Tha's the best part." One has to wonder if she's really as brave as she seems, or whether she's just foolish.
Aw, and he's an blusher. Definitely something to work with. Maera grins up at the bold one that she caught whose name was Aramis earlier. "Oh, so you know it, then? No need to be shy now. Nothing like a good rousing chorus."
She chuckles, and begins again, this time singing louder for the young man's benefit."The ropes creaking, ship's leaking, sails are on fire, and this whole bloody ship could go up like a pyre. We've got smiles on our faces, but we've seen this before... No telling just now what we have in store.
With the moods flaring, crew's glaring, cut-throats the lot. And a devil for a captain, never smiles for a jot. We work hard on this journey, but there's no land in sight, and Gods only know what's coming at night."
Doc catches the bag, looking half confused for a moment. He then looks up at Sandra and says, "Well, this is certainly an unexpected, if pleasant surprise. I think Savior sounds about right at this point!" He gives a little bow and continues, "Remind me to thank you more appropriately later when I'm not knee deep in bilge water, Savior."
He slings the bag over his shoulder tightening the straps it to keep it away from the filthy fluids below and returns back to work. Getting back into it, he briefly pauses and to look himself over.
What a mess! I wonder if I could convince that young lass -- Nissa was it? -- to clean my silks. They certainly can survive the wear, but I'm not so sure I want to be wanderin' about with pants that look and smell like bilge water.
The Stormbeard diligently works in the mess, finding tools scattered here, there, and everywhere as he shows the dwarven spirit for dogged (or in this case, shark-like) determination.
Damned drunkard. Not sharing the booze, and so snockered that he can't do nothin' 'cept s#@* sideways. And then who could tell he did in this mess! Disgrace! Can't blame 'im, though, with this lot. Have to get a bit of his story when he's sober, the dwarf observes while putting all of his pent up energy into a bloody feast!
She lifts the tray and quickly walks out, having not introduced herself or bothered to even explain who she was, just making it clear that she would have it her way or no way at all.
As the sun begins to tuck itself behind the horizon, a bell is rung on the ships main deck and all the pirates begin moving, quickly, to the main deck where a young man is bound to one of the masts.
As the entire crew amasses on the deck, Harrigan walks out and calls out, "Alright, you filthy bilge rats, The Wormwood is a disciplined ship. Do your job and ye want taste the cat, steal from a crew member...and you will taste the sea," without another word, he vanishes, presumably to go off and finish his dinner.
At his words, Plugg and Scourge drag the terrified looking man from the mast to the side of the boat, one man tying the rope to a chain, then the Plugg goes to chain and without a word jerks it hard, pulling the young man into the water.
The man is held under the water, the chain and rope seeming pulled tight, for over a minute. Finally, Scourge drags the boy back out of the water, the chair returning to it's original position.
The boy, 'stupid Jakes Magpie', you hear someone mutter, is pulled onto the deck, his back shredded from the barnacles beneath the ship. He is also very much dead.
Plugg turns to the crew, "Obviously, the punishment for theft or even attempted theft is keelhauling. If you want to end up like Jakes, just try it..." he trails off as he leans down and unties the rope on Jakes, then pulls him up and dumps him over the edge of the ship. "Then you get thrown to the sharks."
Ossok stares coldly at Plugg the entire time, not flinching away once during the morbid scene. When the body comes back up, Ossok looks at it and turns to Maera (or whoever is near him) and says, "Boy died long before making it around bottom of ship. At least it was quick for him."
Aramis watches the punishment stoically, not flinching or averting her gaze, though distaste is evident upon her face. Her jaw twitches furiously as she attempts to hold her tongue, but the words "Damned barbaric bastards" slip out at the sight of the corpse before she can stop hersef.
Nissa barely even notices the keel-hauling.
"Watch your tongue, lass. I really would hate to see what'd happen if the Cap'n found you were the reason his food was burned..." The dwarf trails off, speaking like he was to a petulant child. "At the very least, I'd planned some extra food to be prepared, so there was enough for seconds. But if you don't want any..." He seems not to be overly cruel, but he also isn't taking any crap.
Diabolito wipes the sweat from his brow and heads up on deck for the spectacle. Once among his fellow "crew", he sighs slowly. "What a mess..." The dwarf's eyes darken at the mention of keelhauling. He takes a look at the crowd assembled while he waits for the full crew assembled to determine who is up for this and who finds the sadism...misplaced.
At this point, a redhead walks up, Doc recognizes her as his 'savior', only this time she has two things in her hands, one she hands to Ossok, the other to Nissa. A wooden mask and a gilded book for them. Whispering, "We can talk their ways after Rum Rations. Drink them or you will taste their whip...unless you are sneaky."
With that the woman, who wears a symbol around her neck
Once they have finished their rum, many of the pirates begin to split off and start playing games of chance, seeming to gamble with a few coins here and there as they do.
Ossok and Nissa both felt the gentle rocking of the ship throughout the day, and while Ossok doesn't think anything of it, Nissa did find it a bit...uneasy. She didn't get sick, but she could definitely feel that it had been a possibility.
Doc grimaces as he watches Plugg mete out what passes for "justice" on this vessel.
These officers... It's no wonder they recruit by stealing people away. No one would willingly serve under cruel tyrants such as this lot. I hope the others are of a mind to remedy this situation, as I'm not sure things will go well in the long run if we don't.
After the spectacle, watches as folks line up for Rum Rations.
Odd that the rations are required, and Sandra mentioned possibly avoiding drinking rations if you're sneaky. I wonder...
Doc gets in line ahead of the half-orc and the dwarf he'd met at the tavern, and upon getting his ration, turns to them, holding the glass aloft and says "I don't believe I caught either of your names before we embarked on this adventure, that must be remedied. But first a toast to sailing on the high seas, I had the last one, I do believe it's your turn!" he says to Malak.
After the toast is done, Doc dutifully downs his Rum Ration.
Doc downs the Rum quickly, knowing full well that is a highly addictive drink that saps your ability to fight it off.
Aramis takes her rum ration, considering. On the one hand, she finds it odd that the ration is compulsory - perhaps it's a means of keeping the crew subdued. But on the other, she hasn't had a drink all day, and her throat is painfully dry. She doesn't hesitate any longer; she drinks the rum.
Nursing her cup, she seats herself heavily next to Nissa, sitting in a most unladylike manner - legs apart, elbows on her knees. "So, who d' ye wanna try talkin' to?" she asks in a low voice. "An' are ye gonna drink that?" she adds, pointing to the Vudrani woman's rum.
At the first moments of what's happening, Maera averts her eyes to the deck, only looking up when Ossok speaks to her. She gets a brief look at the damage when it is all over, regrets the sight, and focuses out on the sea. "One can only hope," she shakes her head. "Drowning's an awful way to die."
Also is it clear who the quartermaster is? I'm assuming that it is, if not then I'll retcon this next part.
Nissa gives a small shake of her head to Aramis in response to her question about the rum. She does have more to say about who they need to convince.
"Our first efforts should be to reclaim our lost gear. I think we should ask Maera to help us befriend the quartermaster; she might know where our effects are kept and have the power to return them to us."
If Maera is unwilling, Nissa will lead the diplomatic efforts. I will actually write out Nissa's contribution when I know more about whether she is assisting or leading.
Warned against the rations by the Besmaran cleric, Maera gives it a suspicious sniff once she sits down, and winces terribly. The overpowering smell of alcohol is like a poison to her. Regardless of whatever else it does, she physically cannot drink this. Maybe I could dilute it enough? At least until I find a better way to getting around this... Carefully, she puts a hand over the rim, as if she's keeping the elements out of it, or preventing it from sloshing, and instead begins filling it with water.
Given the duration of the spell, Nissa will cast it and clean Aramis' clothing. A few minutes latter, she will use it to get rid of her drink. Nissa isn't attempting to hide the fact that she is doing magic, but she is trying to conceal all the uses she puts it to.
After disposing of her rum. Nissa will approach Maera with Aramis and whisper to bard:
"Maera, I think we should befriend the quartermaster, so that we may acquire our effects that were so recently liberated from us. Towards that end, would you be willing to sing a song that will enliven and please these sailors, and then help us befriend Grok? She may be easier to influence were she amused by a bawdy song."
Ossok is at a loss for words when the red-haired woman brings him his most valued possession. He stands there staring at the mask for seemingly an eternity, though in reality only moments pass. Once he finally regains his composure, the half-orc looks up at the woman.
"Ossok owes you a life debt. Whatever you need, Ossok will help you until debt is repaid. What is your name?"
He keeps his mask concealed for now, as to not draw attention to the fact that he has it once again.
Despite its potency, the rum seems to barely have any notable effect on Ossok. Perhaps he is just so consumed with the relief of finding his mask again. During the night, he retires straight to his bunk, propping the mask up so he can look at it while laying down. He spends the next couple of hours in this state, and eventually falls asleep, comforted by his company.
Diabolito nods at the wman's warning. "We're as damned as any lost soul... The sailor muses darkly as he tries to determine a way to lessen the potency of the product before drinking it. If he can lessen the effects, he'll do so before drinking it.
The dwarf seems to be hit fairly hard by alcohol, likely the result of a heavy day of work, considering the intense sheen of sweat on his body and the splatterings of food products on his bare chest and broadcloth pants.
The dwarf uses his new knowledge to lessen the intensity of his beverage, letting him work with a bit more proficiency throughout the evening.
He listens to the rest of the group, shaking his head slowly. "I think it's a solid plan. Call for me if ya need me. I'm gonna wander a bit. Catch some fresh air."
And with that, the hairy, bare-chested druid goes in search of Barefoot Samms Toppin.
When the fiery headed woman handed Nissa her spellbook, Nissa looks surprised. She recovers after a moment, putting her hands together she bows to the priestess. "The blessings of the thousand, thousands gods be upon you. You have my thanks, but you also have also sparked my curiosity. From where did you get my spellbook? And why -- though I am exceedingly grateful -- are you helping us?"
Aramis nudges Nissa in the ribs, pointing after the strange woman who returned the book. "A book's one thing, but I'll be mos' impressed if she c'n get me gun back. Suppose that'd be too much ta ask, eh?"
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Malak watches the punishment emotionless. He grumbles at the man being keelhauled, not in displeasure but distaste for his crime. 'Member me old cap doing much worse to such $#&%... Standing behind some of the others that were pressed with him, Malak comments on their despaired faces and reactions with a stony resolve. "Trust me, coulda been more 'barbaric.' My ole crew strapped a lad to a barrel, with a cut on his chest, dumped him in the water.We looked on as the water frothed and boiled from a sharks frenzy. The screams shortly turned to gurgling. Pirate punishment is no faint thing."
Malak laughs at the doctor's request. Perhaps a friend to make here. "Malak Wavecrasher. Not much for the tongue though, but you tis right. So, here's to ourselves, to hold your luff, plenty of prizes and plenty of duff! " Malak downs his rum without hesitation.
Sandara looks to the group and smiles. "I managed to pull a coup with Grok, getting all my gear back and as an apology, she let me get a few pieces of you lots' gear. Pausing, she looks to Aramis, "I'm sorry, there was no hope of Grok letting me out of there with something that valuable. And that overt. A mask, a book, a bag...those things were reasonable. Anything beyond that," Sandara shrugs.
"Be Careful and may Besmara bless you upon this ship. We will talk soon." And with that she moves down into the holds.
With no repercussions for her actions, she smells the drink again, and this time smiles. Nothing but pure water left in it practically. At Nissa's suggestion, the undine's eyes light up, thinking of her gloves, boots, and almost sentimentally, her shawl, and she nods briskly. With a quick chug of her drink to dissuade any frowns from the officers, she makes herself more presentable, and finds a crate towards the center of the deck to be the focus of attention.
She smiles widely, and shouts above the din, "Now that you've all wet your whistles, let's put those throats to use! If I'm to be stuck with you, we'll damn well make a party of it, so sing out if you know the words."
Drawing upon her experiences with cheering up her father and brothers after a hard day at sea, Maera crafts a special performance that might vigor any who hears it. As she gets further into the song, she starts loosening up, adding gestures, and moving her body where appropriate, especially during the chorus.
Allies within 30 feet (including the sea singer) may use Perform check in place of a saving throw against becoming exhausted, fatigued, nauseated, or sickened; if already under such an effect, a new save is allowed each round of the sea shanty, using the bard’s Perform check for the save.
"When I was last in a fishing town, an old man said to me: 'You can spend your life, your jolly life, sailing on the sea. You can search the world for pretty girls 'til your eyes grow weak and dim, but don't go fishing for a mermaid, mate, if you don't know how to swim.'
'Cause her hair was green as seaweed, her skin was blue and pale.
I loved that girl with all my heart (I only liked the upper part), I did not like the tail.
So I signed aboard of a whaling ship, and my first very day at sea there I spied in the waves, reaching out for me. 'Come live with me in the sea,' said she, 'Down on the ocean floor, and I'll show you many's a wondrous thing that you've never seen before.'
So over I jumped and she pulled me down, down to her seaweed bed. A pillow made of tortoise-shell she placed beneath my head. She fed me shrimp and caviar upon a silver dish, from her head to her waist was just to my taste but the rest of her was a fish.
'Cause ...
Then one day, she swam away so I sang to the clams and the whales, 'Oh, how I miss her seagreen hair and the silvery shine of her scales.' Then her sister, she swam by and set my heart awhirl. From her head to her waist was an ugly fish but the rest of her was a girl.
'Cause her hair was green as seaweed, her skin was blue and pale.
I loved that girl with all my heart (I did not like the upper part), and that's how I get my ..."
At the end, Maera pauses significantly, with a saucy grin, flushed with the finale of the song.
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Malak feels great after his rum drinking. He pat's the dwarf and doctor on the back. "How about we make some friends? or even some gold? Care to join? " Malak finds a barrel or a place where arm wrestling is going on. Eager to test his strength and impress others. He looks for the large rigger from earlier. "He, ye withtthat big ugly mug! How about a small challenge?! Let's see which of us can best the other in arm wrestling! Any bets while we're at it??" Malak tries to get a lot of attention, feeling more sociable from the rum. He stretches his large arms and pops his neck and knuckles. Then strolling over to the spot for the challenge he smacks the side for more effect and attention.
Malak strains and grunts in the bout. His glaring orange-red eyes locking gazes with his opponent. Tightening his grip to assert dominance and show his beastial strength over the man.
"Sounds like a good idea, perhaps we can manage both in one go!" he responds to Malak. "You'll have to forgive me if I leave the armwrestling to you though. I think I'll see if I can't round us up a game of dice or cards after you're done breaking some poor fella's arm."
Maheem looks at Malak. "Not in the rigging now. Arm wrestling is good."
At this, several of the crew members, particularly the other riggers are all cheering as the two big men begin to compete.
The big man loses and nods to Malak, a newly formed version of respect, is given.
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Malak slams Maheem's hand and stands up hooting in celebration. He extends a hand out to the man and also tries to strike up some small talk to further gain favor. "Twas a great bout my mate! Say, what is there to know about this crew? How long you been in the service of this ship?" To get more on Maheem's good side, Malak will try to keep conversation short and respectful and about life as a pirate to learn any more about him.
During Maera's performance, Nissa was watching Grok, the quartermaster, does it look like she enjoyed the song?
Everyone who sees Maera's performance is loving it and clapping along with her...and during some of her gestures she gets cat calls and hoops...and there is one boy in particular who is blushing brightly.
Sidling up next to Grok (with Aramis in tow (?)), "Her voice is like the ocean teasing the shower is it not? I am Nissa Alami and this is Aramis Steele. What is your name?"
Once Diabolito finds the barefooted woman, he chuckles. "Glad to see I ain't the only one on board missing boots. Thought they were just adding special insult to injury." He extends a hand out to her. "Name's Diabolito. I'm stuck below deck."
Aramis shrugs as Sandara explains why her gun is, sadly, out of reach. She appears visibly distressed as she continues drinking her rum, but shakes it off, standing and, alongside Nissa, approaching Grok confidently.
She doesn't feel like her presence is doing much, but she manages to avoid putting her foot in her mouth, at least.
"Well, can' complain 'bout the rum," Aramis grins, raising her mug. "Not th' best I've tasted, but no' bad fer where we are. 'S good ta have a drink e'ry now an' then." As if to illusrate, she takes another swig, trying to savour it - she fears she won't be able to get another one soon enough.
"As fer th' rest, well, 's hard work. Wasn' expectin' otherwise, though. Me pappy didn' raise no fools. So, 'ow'd tha' happen, anyway?" she asks bluntly, gesturing to the scar under Grok's chin.