The Formidably Maid was in fine form the previous night. Ales and wines flowed, the bards plied their trade for the patrons, stories were traded and plates of food flavored with spices from around the world were consumed. It was a night to remember for all time!
Too bad you can't remember how it ended.
Waking up is difficult, far more difficult than usual, even if your system is used to heavy drinking. Everyone's head is aching like a battleaxe is buried in it. Sleeping on this hard wooden floor probably isn't helping matters. Nor is the fact that the floor seems to be moving, swaying rhythmically. As the ringing in their ears begins to subside, every person in the room can hear a regular creaking noise.
Anyone who manages to open their eyes finds themselves in a dark room with wooden walls and floor. Around them, five more beings are just starting to wake up. Some may be familiar from the night before...
Before this information can be properly processed, though, the sound of heavy footsteps can be heard approaching. Suddenly, a bright beam of light spills onto the group, burning the eyes of everyone it falls upon. The light comes from a lantern held by a man, flanked by a group of other rough-looking individuals.
The man swings a whip above the heads of the awakening group, unleashing an ear-splitting crack that only exacerbates the lingering headache, "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!”
Each member of the newly pressganged group comes to realize that all of their belongings have been taken from them. The men standing over them are armed with saps, plus the man with the whip.
Ow...ow ow ow. What happened last night?
Buhayra sits up and rubs her head, feeling a lump on the crown where the sap stole her consciousness the night before. Slowly the night starts to come back to her.
I was on my way to the tavern for a nightcap when I saw that man...in the alley...with a knife in his gut. As I leaned over with my medkit to see if I could help...someone must have come up on me from behind!
Just as she is starting to get her wits about her a dark-haired brute of a man comes in ordering them up on deck.
Well at least I am back at sea. The port was getting boring anyway. A press gang isn't the most luxurious way to travel, but it is effective. We'll see what fresh adventure this brings.
"Aye sir, up I go."
Buhayra scrambles to her feet to make her way above deck and get a look at whereabouts they are.
Oh, too much mead. Too much mead.
Tamesis moans softly and rolls onto her side, then pushes herself up to a sitting position. She blinks her eyes and looks around, her eyes piercing the darkness, despite the alcoholic haze still lingering.
Ship's hold? How did I get...
As the footsteps approach, Tamesis jumps up to her feet to face the noise, her tail thrashing madly. Internally, though, a new wave of nausea washes over her.
Shit. Bad idea. Very bad.
Almost instinctively, Tammy begins to cast, a small cloud of icy fog surrounding her right hand. Her left, meanwhile, reaches for her bow.
No bow. No arrows. Just one spell. Too many...
Growling out a series of vicious sears in Daemonic, she pulls back the spell and stands fully, glaring at the man and his companions as she complies and follows the undine.
Sven groaned and got to his feet. The large northerner looked at the men with sadness in his eyes. The lass who was buying him drinks *wasn’t really interested in him after all.* The unfairness of it all was soul crushing. But...free drinks were free drinks. And the worst that happened was that he was press ganged. All in all it could have ended up much worse. All he had to do was find his hammer. It belonged to his father, and he didn’t want to lose it. After he got that back? Then he could think of getting off the ship.
”Aye. Bloody well aye.” He trudged up the steps, keeping his mouth in check. No need to invite the lash just yet.
"Urgh...okay, okay. I go now." Madiya groans as she clambers to her feet and looks around, thinking, That wasn't way I wanted to get on new ship, but here I am. Taking a quick glance at her fellow "recruits", she adds to herself, At least not alone. Other people look friendly enough, unlike whip man. She allows herself one last, fleeting thought before moving: Hopefully ship has workshop to help in. As she follows, she feels her necklace still hanging around her head, and allows herself a little smile. Hei Feng still protecting me.
Arr... for Shimye's sake...
Baolus reaches for his temple and immediately regrets his decision, for there was a huge bump above his right eye. Then he remembered. Baolus was at the Formidably Maid drinking when a huge brawl erupted... as far as he understood before being swallowed by it, it all started when a grabby boatswain decided to pinch a maid's ass.
It was not his first time in a ship, so he quickly recognized where he was thanks to the swaying of the sea. When the man entered, Baolus decided that no matter what happened, he should react quickly...
"Aye... on me feet... on me way" He was not surprised when he felt he was clean of his possessions... however, he was not really worried about it at the moment.
The others were already moving, except for one of them. With the tip of his boot, he kicked the man. "Hey, fish boy... wake up..."
Wake! Wake! urges the Bulge, pressing its alien will into his mind.
”What...where...what happened?” he asks no one in particular, as he shakes the grogginess from his mind.
As his eyes refocus, he recognizes the others coming to their feet around him. They were all in the common room as well. Somehow, they all ended up on a ship...
As a second whip crack sounds near him, he jumps to his feet. ”Yes, Sir,” he replies. He quickly glances around at the other sailors, then follows them up the stair to the deck.
This is going to go badly, he thinks to himself.
Danger! shouts back the Bulge.
The man with the whip, and the other pirates, lead the group up through the middle deck and up onto the main deck. As they move, the group's heads start to clear...
As the group walks out onto the main deck, it becomes clear that they are on a sizable ship, somewhere on the ocean. The man with the whip and the other pirates direct (or shove) the group up against the railing on the starboard side of the ship. A few other pirates are clustered around the mainmast, looking up at the sterncastle, where two more men stand.
The first is a large Garundi man, clearly the captain. The other is younger, and much more impeccably dressed. The captain steps down a single step and addresses the group, “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.”
As he finishes, he turns and steps away, allowing the younger man, apparently Mister Plugg, to approach. He walks deliberately in front of the group, sneering into the faces of each of them. Once he reaches the end, he turns back and address the new 'recruits,' "Alright you worthless morons. Let's get this over with. First thing's first: Can any of you idiots cook?"
Nutmug? I didn't eat anything with nutmeg in it...did I?
He was there! The bastard with the whip...he's the one that set us up!
Kill him, urges the Bulge.
"Um, I'm not a trained cook, sir, but I was a fisherman. I know how to gut and clean fish properly, if that qualifies," he replies in a reticent tone.
As Harrigan talks and then Plugg proceeds down the line, Madiya stares back at them blankly. She suddenly has a flash of memory - whip man, he was in bar last night! - but it doesn't seem to be important, so she files it away. When Plugg asks about cooking, she simply shakes her head.
Nutmeg? In mead?
”Can fish. Can prepare a fish. Can hunt. Can make it edible. Can’t make it taste good. Can also sail, and know my way with axe sword and hammer.” Sven eyed the man. Then said ”Look. To understand this. We’re slaves or crew? It’s good to know where I stand.”
And good to know if I’ll have to jump overboard once I know where land is.
Tamesis licks the oil off of her teeth as she walks, and her eyes narrow at the whip man as the realizations set in.
Poison? Really? They could have just asked. I would have joined the crew willingly...
Even as the captain says his piece, and Plugg does his little show of trying to intimidate them, Tamesis keeps says nothing, and keeps her face nonplussed.
No need to act out. This is a minor setback. Hell, I might be able to swing this to my advantage, if I play my cards right...
She does not respond to the question about cooking. In truth, she's never had to cook her own meal in her life.
"No, sir... Never cooked a day in my life. Favorite cooking utensil is my coin pitch of you catch my meaning.
The last ship I served on, the Dawnshark, they had me apprenticed to the surgeon... Well, actually it was the carpenter, but it was one in the same on that boat. I can stem a bleed or take a leg without losing the patient, most of the time. Also decent with stemming a leak or sawing a board... Ship or person, it's pretty much the same. "
If I can get placed in what passes for the infirmary on this boat maybe I won't have to haul rope or swab deck. That would be nice.
Nu'meg, uhn? Aye... so me was poisoned. Oil of taggit? Ya blasted skums... and that rat with the whip was there too... this is not a good sign.
Baolus listens carefully to Captain Harrigan and then Mr. Plugg. His situation was already dire, so it was better to be patient and alert until he really knows with whom he is dealing.
"Aye, mister. Me can cook... pretty good. This is not me first ship and in the last one me was the cook too..." Baolus hold himself from saying that he could use nutmeg too, but certainly that would have resulted in some slashes on his back.
"The last ship I served on... "
Plugg holds up the cat in his hand to cut Buhayra off, glaring at her, "Don't care." he growls.
He points at Baolus as he speaks up, though the sour expression on his face remains, "Good. You're the new cook's mate. Report to Kroop in the galley." He adds a sharp, "Now!" if there is any hesitation.
"As for you," he rounds on Sven, holding the cat in the large man's face menacingly, "Right now you are nothing. It's my job to turn you into a member of this crew. Fail, or talk back to me again, and I'll throw you in the sweatbox. Or overboard. Or both."
He steps back and points towards the top of the mainmast, "When I say to go, you are going to climb to the crow's nest. Make it quick and don't lolly gag! Fastest two to make it are my new riggers."
"Chumlett, on the count. You, go!"
He points at the first person in line, and as he does, a fat man with a shaved head starts counting, "One....two..."
"Narwhal, on the count. You, go!"
Again, he points at the next person in line, and an ugly dwarf with a large nose begins the count.
He continues like this down the line, pointing at each recruit in turn. Each time, one of the pirates begins counting, keeping the time for this little race.
Kehlysch moves to the rigging and begins a slow steady climb.
Resisting the urge to grumble, Sven got to climbing. This wasn’t the first ship that he was on. Rigging sails was a job every sailor had to do, and do well. Not being able to get up them meant not having a ship that could move. With practiced ease he went up. He did his best to keep his anger in check. He wanted nothing more than to punch his new slave-master, with a fist full of lightning. He kept that warm thought in mind as he ascended.
Well aren't you pleasant. No rum for you if I have to sew up your stitches.
Climb the mast? That's not going to go well...but it doesn't seem like they are a conversational lot, so I guess I had better at least try.
Buhayra addresses the mast and begins the work of slowly climbing up. It is clear from her movements that she is not a skilled climber, and is not working to climb quickly but rather climb surely to try to avoid falling.
- no progress
-Fall off
-7.5 ft up
- 15 ft up
- 22.5 ft up
- fall - Success,
- fall
- 7.5 ft up
- fall
- no progress
- 7.5 ft up
- fall
- 7.5 ft up
- 15 ft up
- 22.5 ft up
- 30 ft up
- 37.5 ft up
Hey, I think I am getting the hang of this!
- fall
Shit shit!
- Fail
"Ooof, ow."
Buhayra lay on her back on the deck, the crew guffawing and laughing at her pain as her knee and lower back begin to beat in rhythm with the welt on her head. As the beat hit harder the sky grew dark and she loses consciousness.
Tamesis drops to a crouch in preparation as soon as she is next in line. Once Plugg points at her, she dashes to the mast and starts up it. She moves as quickly as possible, using her tail to stabilize herself or grab onto ropes to help her ascend.
Tammy flies up the mast, only slipping slightly just before the top. But she reaches the crow's nest quickly enough, and pauses a moment before descending back to the deck. She smirks at Plugg as she falls back in line against the rail.
Sven made his way down and knelt beside Buhaya to make sure she was alive. [b]”She’s breathing, With no medical training or ability he looked around expectantly to see if anyone would help her.
The world suddenly spins as Kehlysch's foot slips from the rung and he finds himself falling through open air towards the deck below.
Death! Death comes! cries the Bulge in his mind.
I can't stop it. I can only hope it won't hurt for long, Kehlysch thinks sadly as the hard wooden deck rushes up to meet him.
THIS. HURTS. SO. MUCH. Kehlysch thinks, as the world around him goes dark.
IDIOT. grumbles the Bulge into his befuddled brain.
Madiya starts to climb as well, but she doesn't go too quickly. She'd rather not work up in the rigging.
Even so, she manages to slip and fall as she's more than halfway up, landing on her back with a sickening thud, not moving.
Sven looked up just in time for a *thud* as a fishman hit the deck. Then another *thud* as a woman hit the deck with sickening force. He winced at the sound of the impact.
Plugg watches with a look of confusion and disgust as three of the recruits hit the hard planks of the deck and don't get up. The pirates that had been counting stop a few seconds after the thuds, realizing that there is no longer any point. Plugg sighs, shakes his head, and turns to Sven and Tamesis, "Alright, looks like you're my new riggers. You'll report to me each morning for your work assignments."
"For today, you..." he points at Sven, "...are on line work, and you..." he points at Tamesis, "...are on mainsail."
As he gives his little speech, a tattooed, red haired woman moves quickly and quietly over to the fallen recruits. She lays a hand on each of them in turn, and their wounds magically begin to heal.
As she finishes, Plugg turns back to them. He gives the woman a sneer and a glare, and she moves away, and back to her work. Plugg's eyes follow her as she moves, a look of anger (or possibly disgust) on his face. After a moment, he returns his gaze to the newly healed, "Alright, back on your feet you layabouts! Since you're too clumsy to climb, you're all swabs. You report to Master Scourge." he indicates the man with the whip, He'll give you your work assignments. Now get out of my sight."
Without awaiting response, he turns and marches back up to the sterncastle. Scourge steps up to his new swabs and grins, showing off his disgusting yellow teeth.
"Blue girl, you're on rat catching duty! I don't wanna hear no more squeakin' down there. Fish man, I want you on repairs. And you, Bonuwat, swab the decks. And don't let me catch you slackin' again! Or else!" To punctuate his point, he cracks his whip over the swabs' heads once more.
Baolus:
When Baolus reaches the galley, he finds it a cramped and chaotic kitchen holds two wooden worktables, several wooden cupboards, and two small stoves against the port wall, as well as virtually every cooking utensil imaginable and a frightening array of meat cleavers. A score of chickens and three goats wander freely throughout the chamber; the goats are meant to be caged, but have a distressing tendency to escape their bonds. The kitchen is a madness of dirt, food, and knives. The stoves are perpetually lit, and large cauldrons bubble away atop them all times. A huge array of spices mingle with barrels of rainwater, two tuns of rum, cupboards full of ship’s biscuit and salted beef, barrels of sauerkraut, and a small supply of fresh vegetables picked up in Port Peril. Sitting in the room, a bottle of rum in his hand, is the cook. He looks up as Baolus enters, and attempts a small smile. He doesn't stand, but introduces himself as Ambrose Kroop, the ship's cook. Of course, he also notes that everyone calls him "Fishguts."
It quickly becomes clear that Fishguts is drunk, but functional. Baolus gets the feeling that this is the man's perpetual state. Among the slurred words, Fishguts explains the job of cook's mate is to assist him with the day's cooking and do any special work that needs to be done to get the meal prepared (butchering, fishing, etc). He also apologizes, in advance, if he's ever too drunk to be of any assistance, though promises that shouldn't ever happen. Once he's done with the explanation, he stands up shakily to start working.
"Cap'n called for a special meal t'night. Somthin' about gettin' Besmara's blessing or sommat. Whatever. Get a pig slaughtered and butchered, and we'll get it all cooked up."
As they work, Kroop does his best to make light conversation, but slips into a dark tone, "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 s. 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.”
Kehlysch comes to consciousness as he realizes most of the pain in his body has washed away in the wave of warm, soothing energy suddenly flowing through him.
At the crack of Master Scourge's whip, he rises to his feet as quickly as quietly as possible.
When ordered to make repairs, he replies "Yes, Sir" and nods his head. He then moves over to join the other swabs working on repairs. He accepts whatever is offered to him to mend, and sets to work.
Daytime Action:
As he works, Kehlysch looks around deck and tries to locate the red-haired woman that saved his life.
If he locates her, he tries to contact her through his magic.
"ya uln 'ai k'yarnak uaaah" Kehlysch softly intones, as places his hand to his mouth and gestures outward in the direction of the woman.
"Thank you for my life, Lady with painted skin and hair of fire. I am called Kehlysch. Call on me, if I may be of assistance to you."
Madiya stumbles to her feet yet again, with a solemn nod of thanks to the red-haired woman. Been long time since I needed to climb last. Need to pay better attention.
Then, she and the other failed climbers get their assignments. Madiya winces a little on the inside at the whip, but tries not to let it show. She turns to her task wordlessly, her body still aching a bit - and the backbreaking work doesn't do much to help. Still, she's comforted by the rocking of the waves. Good to be back on water, even if not great ship.
Tamesis' raises her hands defensively as Sven looks for someone to help the others, "Don't look at me, big guy. I'm no healer."
She nods as she is given her assignment, and moves swiftly to get to her work. While she works, she does her best to talk to the other riggers, to integrate herself with her new crewmates. While she does make a point to introduce herself to Sven, she focuses on the crewmembers who were here before her.
Despite the fear of falling, Sven hurried through his tasks so he could look around to figure out where their stolen gear might be. His grandfather’s hammer was somewhere in there! He fully intended to flee the ship of the opportunity presented itself, unless he saw some profit in this. At the moment, it looked like he was a slave. And that wasn’t a role he was satisfied with. But before he fled he wanted that weapon.
At night he will do the same. He wants to know exactly where the hammer is, and when would be the best time to break his way in. If possible he wants to steal a weapon with which he can defend himself with should that be needed.
With the light touch of a hand the red-haired woman roused Buhayra from unconciousness. Rising to her feet Buhayra nodded her gratitude and made note of the person's attire. Well at least not everyone on this crew is unreasonable. I'll have to try to get a word in with her later, maybe she is the medic and could use an apprentice with a history or something. But seeing as how she shies away from the first mate, maybe not.
She grumbled to herself as she went below decks to start working on clearing vermin from the lower decks. Apparently, falling to your near death is a kind of slacking. Good to know. This pleasure cruise is becoming less and less enjoyable.
She makes short work of the rats with her cold blasts. Having finished early she wanders about the ship for a bit trying to get a sense of where her money pouch and other items may have been taken.
Baolus enters the kitchen carefully, paying attention to everything around him. When he notices the goat and chicken running free, he gets a bit startled... that was the most disgusting kitchen he had ever seen, even compared to the other ships he had served before.
They must be meesing with me... what is that shit on that cuttin' table... for the Gods... it is shit, chicken shit.
Baolus is so disgusted by his working place that he is caught by surprise when Kroop talks to him. "Nice to meet ye, Kroop. Baolus here... right, I'll take care of the pig..." He then takes a couple knives and starts to work. He was more used to prepare fish and seafood but he had butchered a couple animals before so he done it quickly.
While prepairing the meal, Baolus listens carefullu to Fishguts. When he finished, Baolus simply agreed with him. "Good to 'now... aye, good to 'now, and if it works for ye, it might work for me too."
When the cooking is finally done, Baolus moves around a bit, trying to know the ship.
Sven soon realized how futile it was to try and look into the armory. It was under lock and key! There was no way he was going to get in here. So he did some asking around, and found the name...Grok. As in, Grok's shop. Apparently there was a half-orc who was in control of all of the supplies.
So, once he had his rigging complete, he made his way to the shop. He did so with his rum ration in hand. Walking in with his head held up high and with a smile on his bearded and tattooed face, he looked for the half-orc. He figured that it would be easy enough to find her.
"Sven is here!" He said as he entered, rum held up high. It had been a hard day's work in the rigging, and he figured that he deserved the drink. Plus, it would be useful to calm his nerves. Not only had he risked breaking his neck like the others, but now, in search of his hammer, he was putting himself in a different kind of danger.
Sven is easily able to locate the quartermaster's shop at the rear of the middle deck, once he sneaks away from his work. The quartermaster, a reedy half-orc, looks up as the man sticks his head through the window in her door. With a mixture of surprise and amusement on her face, she stands and address the Ulfen, "Sven, is it? How can I help you?"
Seeing that there wasn't anger on her face, Sven said "Yes! Sven Olaffson! Worst damn skald to leave Linnorn lands!" His smile died on his face as he looked at her. "I come because I believe you have a hammer in here. A hammer taken from me. Both blessed and cursed it is. Forged with Linnorn blood it is. You can tell it because of the silver runes upon it. Am I right that you have it? If so I would tell you it's saga."
Gods I hope this works...
ooc]Don't want to hold the campaign up, so going to assume that she wants to hear[/ooc]
"The saga begins when the great Linnorn devoured my uncle, Egil. My grandfather swore vengeance. Here is what he said:"
...Egil was borne off
By the sky's fury,
The searing breath
Was his end:
My son, who shunned
All spite and slander -
I must weep. But why
For one so all-worthy ?Remember his fate
And forget I will not
Pharsama
Holds him for ever,
The wyrm has stolen my son,
The sapling growth
From my wife´s womb
The warrior-seed.The war-god shared
Spoil with me,
My oath was to gods,
They gave me aid:
Now the makers of fate
Only mocks me
Voids all my victories,
I, outlive my son.I´ll make offerings to Gorum
Though not in eagerness,
I´ll make my soul´s sacrifice
Not suffer silently:
Though this child has left me,There is no comforts me
I join him!
I, wolf-killer, I warrior
Gorum, well seasoned in war
Bestowed a bounty
Not to be bettered:To my art he added
One other gift,
A heart that held
Not craft only: hatred !The end is all.
Even now
High on the headland
The wyrm stands and waits,
Life fades, and I must fall
And face my own end
Not in misery and mourning
But with a man´s heart.
"My grandfather, Valthyr, he gathered every man that would follow him..."
...In swelling rage | then rose up the shield brothers,--
Seldom they sits | when he such words spoke,--
And the oaths were made, | the words and bonds,
The mighty pledges | between them made.
I know of the horn | in temple, held
Under the deep-reaching | holy rock;
On it there sounds | with Valthyr's pledge
A mighty blast: | would you hear?
On all sides saw I | men assemble,
Ready to march | to battle the Linnorn;
Skuld bore the banner, | and Skogul marched next,
Guth, Hild, Gondul, | and Geirskall.
Of Valthyr's chosen | the list have ye heard,
Oathbound ready | to march o'er the earth...
"With blade in hand Valthyr and his comrades met the wyrm. Guth, Hild and Gondul all fell, even brave Skogul lost his leg. My grandfather was left with only his broken sword. Standing over Skogul, he met the wyrm."
"He hewed with the brand!
Long since he fought in Linnorn-Land for the slaying of the Worm,
There he won glory and the name of Wyrm-doom,
Since he pierced that serpent through, with the blade of silver steel.
He hewed with the brand!Old he was, when east of Oere-sound he made good breakfast for the wolves,
While his steel sang on the high-crest of the icing-death,
Blood-stained the sea, the ravens waded through.He hewed with the brand!
Ere a lifetime has passed o'er us, we who shake our axes,
At wave-mouth were heroes laid low,
Warriors died! The crimson death colored the sea and ravens feasted.He hewed with the brand!
The war-god loved them who were sent to the mighty halls,
Keen was the raven feathered arrow that we sent ere their passing,
Dirge was the music of sword on scale and cleft was shield.He hewed with the brand!
Great was his courage when he faced Icasarcht, 'mid his steed, died.
No man more fearless was sent o'er the main;
His stout heart drove him, fearless, by the ice-devil's haunt.He hewed with the brand!
The brand bit sore, the sword flew from its sheath,
Crimson the borders of our mood-shields when he died,
Loud roared the spears of his kin, as low law the drake.He hewed with the brand!
His life was well-nigh o'er; sharp is the pang that the serpent gives.
For the snakes nest deep in the heart. No more may his children rest
Great wrath will fly for the undoing of doom.He hewed with the brand!
Full gladly did he go! See the Glory fly to deaths halls!
High-seated among the heroes shall he quaff the yellow-mead."
"Skogul brought back my grandfather's blade, and Geirskall buried the fallen where they lay. When they returned home, what was left of the blade was melted down, and in Linnorn blood a hammer was forged. A hammer which..."
Sven held up his hand, encased as it was in lightning.
"...carries in it Valthyr's bravery and the Linnorn Icasarcht's wrath. It was given to my father, and from him to me. It has blessed me! But it also carries a curse. For it is a weapon made from two souls. In the hands of Valthyr's bloodline, it gives the gift of the sea and the sky. Should it leave the hands of kin, then it shall call out to Icasarcht's kin. And it is said that the wyrms of the deep will come to reclaim what is theirs."
Grok sighs tiredly at the initial request, and rolls her eyes, "Look, buddy. All loot and plunder brought on board, yes-including anything taken off the poor pressganged saps like yourself, belongs to the captain. I can't go just handing out the Captain's property. That'd be stealing. Now, that story does sound interesting, but this-"
She pauses as Sven launches into the tale, a look of surprise on her face. She opens her mouth to try to interrupt a couple of times, but eventually just leans over and listens. Eventually she gets lost in the story, and by the end actually seems a little concerned.
Sven looked crestfallen. Did the tale not work? Was she not even the least bit scared of the Linnorn curse?
He thought furiously of anything else he could say. Were there any ships that had been lost at sea due to ignoring a curse? He couldn’t think of any. Wasn’t there that one about the cursed rum? No..that was a joke. The dread parrot? No, that was told by a man drunker than he. The cursed pantaloons of the golden isles? No...he hadn’t heard about the isles before and it seemed unlikely that cursed pantaloons made it burn when the teller urinated.
With a sigh he said...
”You may not believe me...but how is it stealing? I am the captain’s property, am I not? Did he not make me his bondsman? His thrall? Whether I live or die is by his command. And if both I and the hammer are his property, then how is my wielding it theft? And besides, the tale is true! Me having the hammer on me will avoid the curse and keep us safer should any foe attack us. On my honor as an Ulfen!”
Grok shakes her head, almost chuckling, "What idiot told you that you're property? You're no slave, my friend. Impressed into involuntary servitude by a man who could kill you without thinking, sure, but you're no slave. You're a free man, and a member of the crew. When the time comes to divvy up a take, Cap'n Harrigan will make sure you get your fair share.
"Look, you seem like a good sort. You make me a promise, that you won't use this to get into any trouble, and I'll give you this hammer. But if you do something stupid, like starting a fight, I'm gonna tell them you stole it, and they'll keelhaul you for it. Deal?"
Assuming Sven takes the deal, Grok produces the hammer from one of the numerous lockboxes in the store and hands it to him, "Go put it in your locker and leave it there. Don't let them see you walking around with it, at least not until you've settled in."
The large Ulfen nodded. ”You have my word!” Once the hammer was in hands he rushed off to stow it away.
Once everyone gets to work, the ship becomes awash with activity. Riggers above, making adjustments as directed by Plugg, the swabs going about their work under the watchful eyes of Scourge. Madiya gets to work immediately, working hard and getting results, even if her job isn't the most glamorous. Tamesis finds Maheem rude and curt, but her tough talk seems to soften him up. Even if he isn't being friendly by the end of the day, at least he isn't glaring daggers at her anymore. The healer woman smiles in Kehlysch's direction when she receives his message, but continues working without responding. Sven manages to sneak off during the day to Grok's store, and recovers his hammer. Buhayra also manages to sneak away from her job for a little bit, and is able to investigate the crew berth. While she isn't able to locate any of her belongings, she does finds the rest of the crew's footlockers. Unfortunately, without some way of opening the locks, she isn't able to go snooping inside.
Baolus manages to do a good day's work with Fishguts, getting the pig all butchered and set up nice for the night's meal. When he goes to investigate, he finds Grok's shop, with the quartermaster present. He is able to catch Sven's story, though, as well as Grok's reaction.
When the evening bell tolls, the crew assembles on the deck, and the new recruits are jostled into position by the remainder of the crew. It is time for Bloody Hour. Two crewmembers are pulled forward for discipline. The first, a barefoot human female (Barefoot Samms Toppin, a swab) is given a rope bash (literally, just smacked upside the head with the end of a thick rope) for falling short of expectations today. The other is a half orc named Jaundiced Jape, who is given three lashes with the whip for slacking off.
All three lashes find their mark, and on the third, Jape falls unconscious in his bindings. Two of the crew untie him and carry him back to his hammock to sleep it off.
With the lesser punishments out of the way, another man is led up on deck from below. He is not tied to the mast, but rather is bound in long ropes. As this is being completed, Plugg addresses the crew, "Jakes Magpie was caught stealing from Grok's shop last night. When questioned, he admitted to his crime. The punishment for stealing from the Captain is, as you all know, keelhauling. Mr Magpie, do you have any last words?"
Jakes Magpie simply spits at Plugg, "F*** you! F*** Harrigan! And f*** this whole f***ing ship!"
Plugg shakes his head, and the officers throw the bound Jakes overboard. They then take their time tugging on the ropes that hold him, dragging him under the ship, across the keel, and back over the other side over the course of over a minute.
What comes up on the other side has been cut to shreds, and is soon enough kicked overboard to feed the sharks.
Once Bloody Hour is concluded, the evening meal is fetched from below. While the officers get the bulk of the pig that Baolus and Kroop cooked, a satisfying portion is doled out to each crew member, as well. Along with the meal, each crew member is given a ration of VERY powerful rum.
As the meal starts to wind down, the entertainment begins! Some pirates head belowdecks to sleep off the day's work, while others begin participating in various games. Before the group can do either, though, they are approached by the redheaded woman from before, along with a halfling woman with a scowl on her face.
The woman introduces herself as Sandara Quinn, and the halfling as Rosie Cusswell.
"Something tells me you all could use a friend on this boat. And if I'm honest, so could I. Here, a token of good faith. I managed to talk Grok out of it this morning."
She hands Tamesis back her spellbook with a smile.
Sven watched, grim faced, as the hapless thief met his fate. He wasn't so much upset about the man dying, but rather how Plugg enjoyed the act. That wasn't right. While his place on the ship wasn't as bad as he thought it was, this was proof of how precarious the position was.
---------
Nighttime
Later that night, Sven took his rum ration. Because of course he did. He wasn't dead. He was to have a share of any loot. He had his hammer back! Life was good. That was, until he drank. Something was off about it. He had drunk rum before, many a time to be honest. But he hadn't seen crew members so eager before, as if though they *needed* it. Was life on the ship really that bad? And why did they have to drink?
Finding Grok, Sven went to finish his drink.
"Friend Grok! It is I, Sven! We drink, ya?" He said this with his characteristic grin. "This rum, I have not tasted it's like before. What is in it? It is very strong."
Watching the festivities of what fellow crewmen informed her was "the Bloody Hour" turned Buhayra's stomach slightly. Discipline aboard ship is important, but dead men can't learn lessons. More than anything else it was the severity of the punishments in comparison to the offenses that informed her of the type of ship she was now serving upon. As Jakes Magpie was lifted up from the water after his keelhauling it became abundantly clear that the punishments were a warning to some of the crew, and a distasteful entertainment for others, like Plugg and his ilk.
After that show, she was not sure if she would be able to eat but she found the labors of her day and left her with quite the appetite. Sniffing at the rum resumed the roiling her stomach though, so she decided to hold off on drinking it...at least for now.
Surveying the room as she sat Buhayra decides now is probably the best time speak with the red-headed woman and investigate the possibility of being her apprentice.
Approaching Sandara, she smiles as winningly as she can muster, but in a way that is rather awkward. "You made quick work getting us back to our feet after that mess this morning on the mast. Are you the ship's medic? Or perhaps surgeon? I apprenticed with a surgeon before, on my last ship. If you are I would love to help out any way I can."
Kehlysch is too fixated on the conversation in his head to pay close attention to the proceedings.
I almost died today, because I was forced to climb into tall ship's rigging. One man was just beaten to unconsciousness and another was torn to pieces and fed to the sharks. These men are brutal; brutal beyond reason.
Rule by strength. Rule by fear, the Bulge replies.
These men are like the gangs of urchins that used to throw rocks and beat me when I was small; only now they are grown and they have a gotten a taste for the pain they inflict. How did I end up her? Kehlysch wonders.
Not strong. Not feared, responds the Bulge.
So you are saying they need to fear me? Kehlysch asks.
YES! responds the Bulge emphatically.
Kehlysch sighs and makes his way over to the queue forming for the evening's rum ration. When he is handed his cup, he raises it to his nose and grimaces at the smell.
Ugh. This is much stronger than the watered-down ale served in Port Peril. I don't think I can stomach this.
Strength, repeats the Bulge.
Kehlysch barely manages to remain on his feet. His body tingles from head to foot and his body goes nearly slack.
"Well, this feels better than falling..." he mutters.
Madiya is exhausted by the time the day is over. She's barely awake enough for the punishment session, but she manages to eat and drink, then staggers down into the hold, collapsing into an empty hammock for the night.
Kehlysch stumbles around the deck for awhile, getting a sense of the crew's recreation time at the end of the day. Assuming no one approaches or engages him in some manner, he staggers down to the bunk area and pours himself into his hammock.
I wonder what tomorrow will be like," Kehlysch muses as he drifts off to sleep.
Survive, replies the Bulge.
Watching bloody hour only impresses upon Tamesis how closely she needs to toe the line.
The tiefling watches Plugg like a hawk, noting his enthusiasm.
That one is dangerous. He will need to be dealt with, quietly. Bide your time. Wait for an opening...
When mealtime comes, Tamesis eats her food with gusto and drinks her rum right along with it.
Oh, by Grandmother, that burns. Don't know if I'll be drinking that again...
Tammy does her best to sit with the other new pressgangers, "We should probably stick together if we want to survive. That Plugg guy is something else, isn't he?"
When Sandara approaches, Tammy accepts the spellbook happily, giving the redhead a matching smile in return (though hers is a little more....pointy).
"Good work getting these guys back on their feet. I'd hate to see what would have happened to them if they hadn't."[b] She mocks a shudder. [b]"I wonder if you know who I need to talk to to get the rest of my stuff back?"
When Baolus catches Sven reciting his saga, he is both impressed and bored in equal amounts... he always hated poetry and the like. He notices that Grok returns his hammer but leaves soon after.
During the bloody hour, Baolus is disgusted by how much enjoyment Mr. Plugg and some of the others were having. This is far worst than I expected... even considering the Seagul. Better keep to my own and focus on living... unless this Magpie was a son of bilge rat, there is just too much enjoyment.
As the cook's assistant, Baolus helped to serve the food, which delayed his turn to take the rum rations. This allowed him to watch as the others complained about it. Not wishing to risk something nasty, Baolus moved towards the ship's parapet and, discreetly, disposed of it while pretending to drink.
When he comes back, he catches the red haired woman giving something back to the demon woman. "Aye, me agree with ye. We all need some friends here. Me go by Baolus. This is not me first time on a ship bu' for sure this is the nastiest..."
When some of the others go to sleep, Baolus catches some of the others playing a strange game. Understanding the rules, he tries his luck... "Ha! Not bad at all..."
"Friend Grok! It is I, Sven! We drink, ya?" He said this with his characteristic grin. "This rum, I have not tasted it's like before. What is in it? It is very strong."
Grok raises her mug to Sven as he approaches. Kroop, who had been sitting with her, retreats and heads belowdecks. Grok, though, remains and nods to Kroop's empty spot, "Hey, it's the big storyteller. Got any other good tales for me?"
To the question about the rum, Grok shrugs and takes another drink from her mug, "Just rum. It's strong, sure, but it's just rum."
Approaching Sandara, she smiles as winningly as she can muster, but in a way that is rather awkward. "You made quick work getting us back to our feet after that mess this morning on the mast. Are you the ship's medic? Or perhaps surgeon? I apprenticed with a surgeon before, on my last ship. If you are I would love to help out any way I can."
Sandara recoils a bit away from Buhayra, almost as if she were surrounded by an awful odor. Or like a pop star trying to keep away from a rabid fan, "No, I'm not the ship's surgeon. That'd be 'Stitchman.' You probably would have gone to him if I hadn't stepped in, but that wouldn't have saved the others. They were bleeding out, and Stitchman doesn't actually have any healing magic..."
When Sandara approaches, Tammy accepts the spellbook happily, giving the redhead a matching smile in return (though hers is a little more....pointy) [b]"Good work getting these guys back on their feet. I'd hate to see what would have happened to them if they hadn't."[b] She mocks a shudder. [b]"I wonder if you know who I need to talk to to get the rest of my stuff back?"
Sandara frowns at the question, "Grok. She's the half-orc over there with your big friend. She doesn't give up gear easily, though. You'll have to buy it back, or be really convincing. You could try to steal it, but....you saw what happened to Magpie..."
As the cook's assistant, Baolus helped to serve the food, which delayed his turn to take the rum rations. This allowed him to watch as the others complained about it. Not wishing to risk something nasty, Baolus moved towards the ship's parapet and, discreetly, disposed of it while pretending to drink.
Baolus is able to tip his rum overboard without being seen.
When he comes back, he catches the red haired woman giving something back to the demon woman. "Aye, me agree with ye. We all need some friends here. Me go by Baolus. This is not me first time on a ship bu' for sure this is the nastiest..."
Sandara nods sadly to that comment, "Yeah, it's a piece of work, all right. Just watch your back, and your friends' backs, though, and we'll all make it through."
When some of the others go to sleep, Baolus catches some of the others playing a strange game. Understanding the rules, he tries his luck... "Ha! Not bad at all..."
[dice=Hog Lob]1d20+5
Tammy frowns at the news, but nods, "Alright, any tips you can give me? I can be convincing, if I have an angle to play."
Sandara shrugs, "Looks like she's getting mighty chummy with him, you might play on that. Otherwise, she's superstitious. I managed to get my stuff back because I'm a priestess of Besmara. I just told her I needed it back in order to properly go about my duties and keep the ship safe from harm. Seemed to do the trick."
"Yeah, I can work with that."
Tamesis' gives a wicked grin, showing off, again, her pointed teeth, "I'll talk to her tomorrow. Let Sven get in his face time for now. In the meantime, how about we get to know each other a little better?"