You don't remember much of what happened last night. The crowd was rowdy, the ringing laughter of a wild night, the heady joy of excess, the scents of rich stewed meat and perfume lingering in your nostrils. What you feel right now is anything but what you remember, the gently rocking of your surroundings compounding the already intense headache, the sickly taste of cheap wine in your mouths, the hard floor and a rhythmic creaking noise. Before you get a chance to unscramble your head the harsh light of a lantern pierces your barely opened eyes as heavy footsteps approach.
"Still abed with the sun over the yardarm? On your feet, ye flithy 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!" barked a harsh and malicious voice. Anyone who looked up at the speaker would find a black bearded human standing over them and backed by 6 rough look pirates. The speaker was smiling with yellow teeth at the discomfort of the PCs and played with a coiled whip that hung from his belt.
Gadreel groaned in mild irritation at the grating sound of a strange man’s voice yelling at her. She had an absolutely splitting headache, and it was making it nearly impossible to have what normal people might consider rational thoughts in a situation like this. Golden irises blinked open blearily, probably taking longer to adjust to the light than those around her given her natural ability to see better in the dark.
When her mind finally caught up with her, if a bit sluggishly, she looked around in open confusion and suspicion. When did she wind up on a ship? More importantly, how did she wind up on a ship? The last thing she remembered was relaxing at a tavern somewhere, enjoying a few drinks with some friendly strangers… “Ah, s~$#…” she muttered to herself, sudden clarity managing to break its way through the fog that was her throbbing head. Gadreel couldn’t confirm yet that she’d been drugged, but she’d been alive long enough to trust a hunch when she had one, and right now her gut told her that there was no such thing as friendly strangers when you’re a Tiefling.
The woman sat up wearily to try and get a better idea of her surroundings. There was a lot of her to move up. Even sitting as she currently was, it would be obvious to anyone seeing her for the first time that moving her onto this ship had probably been quite the endeavor. Despite her obvious heritage, she was fairly pretty by Tiefling standards. Certainly not a smokeshow or necessarily worth any second glances, but the half of her heritage that was human certainly shone through in the fact that she wasn’t a hideous looking monster like most Tieflings were. She quickly checked her person to see if any of her belongings were missing. Once that was done, the large woman eyed the people around her to get an idea of what she was working with, particularly the pirate that was trying to rouse them. There was a whip on his hip, which she took note of.
Her instinct was to start throwing punches, but this was hardly an advantageous spot for that. She’d probably fare better if she exerted some patience and got a better idea of what she was up against. But, that didn’t mean she couldn’t start laying some groundwork and doing a bit of testing. Standing with slow deliberation to her feet, she took her time stretching her muscles. This included her large, batlike wings, which she briefly unfurled and stretched out as far as she could, uncaring as to whether or not she accidentally bumped any of the other kidnapped indivituals with them, before they settled down against her back once more.
She was tall for a member of her race, standing just over six feet. The broadness of her shoulders and her stocky frame were more than enough evidence that she was absolutely stacked in the muscle department. Her skin was dark grey in color, and she had long black hair that reached down to her lower back. While her hands and feet appeared to be shaped like a human’s, the rest of her allowed no mistaking of her bloodline. Protruding from her scalp were two sturdy, jet black horns that wrapped back and around toward the front of her face like those of a ram, and she had a meaty tail that was covered in black scales.
The parts of her arms that weren’t covered bore tattoos that resembled demonic looking runes in a deep crimson color, which bore a striking familiarity to blood. She had similar looking marks on her face covering one eye down her cheek. Once she was done loosening her considerable amount of muscle, she looked down at the human. Her eyes glanced briefly down at the whip the human was toying with before flicking back up to him. She wasn't being aggressive necessarily, but she was definitely looking to see how these pirates gauged her.
Reginald was curled up almost uncomfortably in... wherever he happened to be at this very moment. The sights, the sounds, the mixture of joys and various libations and meats so rich his sense of taste savored every morsel. It was the most fun and excitement he had ever been privy to since he left home to try his had at being a dashing scoundrel on the road to make quite the name for himself.
All of that came to a sickening halt, as the gentle rocking and creaking, the dwarf-like hammering in his temples, the foul taste in his mouth, the glaring light, and the shouting. He opened a bleary eye, allowing the light to catch the green jewel-like orb, and his heart sank, as they were not in the last place he could remember, in fact he couldn't even remember where he was last very well at all. At the current moment he was sure he was very far from there and now his situation has completely changed, none too well for the better.
He uncomfortable straightened himself and looked around the dimly lit space they were within, seeing other haphazard shapes in various states of conciousness as well. He noted someone else had gotten up before he had as well, and judging by their silhouette, they struck him with an almost otherworldly quality. He also took note of female voices among the others that groaned and decided to voice their displeasure, which surprised him but wasn't altogether unwelcome either. He could use something to be pleasing on the eyes when his mouth and head felt as awful as they currently did.
He quickly gathered his meager belongings, taking inventory to note anything that may have gone missing, making note to keep an eye out for anything that had, as he straightened to his full height, stretching his neck and working out some of the kinks he felt from how he slept curled up. His ears and tail flicked as he gently stroked his whiskers with a black furred paw, as he moved over to where he saw the other individual who had awoken sooner. Upon closer look, he noticed that she was rather attractive, albeit rather overtly muscled, with quite a few interesting features upon her body. She also looked like she take any excuse to destroy a limb proffered to her. He kept his distance for the time being as intentions could not be determined with this particular menagerie he found himself apart of currently.
Having finally woken up fully, he decided to carefully watch all that is currently unfolding with somewhat detached amusement. No point in lamenting your situation when you are trapped on a vessel, who knows how far from the nearest port and he didn't fancy a swim at the moment. He already began to contemplate his circumstance and plan how to make himself worthwhile and valuable enough to avoid an early watery grave.
Selayi rubs at her eyes, blinking against the harsh light from the lantern, only to be smacked with a some appendage from some creature near her. She struggles for a few obvious moments as her long inky black hair is unbraided and a complete mess around her, tangling her limbs as she tries to clear it from in front of her face to take in her situation. Last thing she remembered was getting off her ship, talking to some locals about places for new tattoos, and showing off her current ones on her left side, and one lucky man even got to see how much of her left side they did cover. However, that was at some bar called the.. the... maiden something?
After she takes the time to correct it, Selayi looks about, her dark blue eyes quickly taking in what is happening around her. There was some large wing creature standing near her, Probably what hit me, rather rude of them, but the next to her was some sort of strange fuzzy creature. It seemed like a cat, and as not eating her, some she would consider them both to not be dangerous for now. However, there was this large annoying human shouting something about going up topside. The last thing she wanted to do right now is go topside with her hair unbraided, for when she stood up, the hair was just one long dark wave to her hips, clearly in need of some type of restraint.
Having worked on ships before hand, she takes the time to stretch to her full height, knowing how cramped them had been in this small room, but luckily at 5'3 means she was dwarfed by those around her, allowing her to have some room to stretch. She brushes back her hair, a clear annoyance across her arctic blue face shows she needed time to get ready. This was not were she remembers going to get a new tattoo, her left side full of wave and star patterned white markings, and what was the start of more ocean and astrology themed tattoos on her right, starting at her wrist and ankle.
She tries to understand what was happening, looking from the winged creature, which she thinks is some pretty female, to the bearded man, to the furry cat creature, and is still confused. None of them seemed like her last boat, and while a sailor by trade already, this boat seemed to have too few of her kind, and that gave her some pause. She was not as hostile towards others as some of her race, but just because her contract was up did not mean she could be taken by force. She speaks up in a voice that rustled like the waves over a sandy beach " If you had wished me up, why not inform me I had someone to met before hand? This is not proper. Where are we and who are you?" Clearly not pleased, as Selayi appears unarmed and slight among all those present, but her voice held no fear of what was her current happenstances
The lead pirate's eyes narrowed at the insolence offered by the new recruits and his hand closed on the handle of the whip on his belt. Upon closer inspection he appeared to be wearing a black great coat of excellent craftsmanship and only mildly stained. His pants, shirt and boots were also of fine design and mild wear and tear from the harsh life the man led. He also literally glowed with hostility an impatience, a man not used to getting anything besides "Yes Sir!" when he spoke.
Without warning the whip flew out in a blur and lashed across the face of Selayi, leaving a thick welt that appeared almost instantly. Instantly the other sailors jumped on the PCs and bore them to ground, overpowering the brawler and swashbuckler with sheer numbers and dragging them onto the hot and bright deck. Selayi was given the choice of walking up under her own power or facing the very sharp hatchet that was pressed against her neck. The other two PCs, in rough shape and still unconscious, were tossed savagely onto the deck next to a mainsail post. In the light of the sun the PCs could see they had been stripped of almost everything with the exception of their clothing and boots. They were among a handful of bleary eyed characters who appeared in the same state of distress as the PCs.
Standing on deck and hanging from the rigging were several other pirates who jeered at the newcomers as they watched the proceedings. The man who led Selayi up by hatchet edge shoved her forcefully to the deck with the other PCs before walking up a short flight of stairs to the next deck to speak to a huge, scarred human. The big man nodded a few times before smiling ugly at what he was hearing before stepping up to the railing to address everyone.
"Glad you could join us at last! Welcome to the Wormwood! My thanks for 'volunteering' to join my crew. I'm Barnabas Harrigan." The big man motioned to a much thinner and younger human male with a shaved head and topknot wielding a well-used cat-o'-ninetails. The younger man stepped down onto the main deck and prowled back and forth silently in front of the PCs, eyeing them as he would eye a side of beef.
The big man began to slowly pace back and forth across the railing, speaking to the air loud enough that everyone on the ship could hear. "That's Captain Barnas 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." he started to turn away before seemingly remembering something else.
"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 into the sweatbox for a year and a day before I make pies out of 'em!"
Ignoring the new recruits the big captain shouted a few orders that sent the rest of the crew scrambling to obey before vanishing into the captain's chambers. The so called Mr. Plugg came to a stop in front of Gadreel and looked her up and down with a scowl. Abruptly he shouted "All of you, up the lines to the crows nest! Last one up gets a taste of the cat!"
Reginal was dismayed to see that of all his belongings that he had managed to collect and pawn and earn with sweat and blood had been robbed from him. He felt fairly naked, but sighed and quickly made his way to one of the lines.
He grabbed one of the lines and began to shimmy up the rope almost effortlessly, the familiar rippling of his muscles as he made his way up the rope. As he started to make his way up the rope, a familiar cockiness began to resurface and he began to show off as he scaled the ropes, swinging this way and that way as he ascended.
He decided that he would hazard a look back down at the others, and saw them struggling to climb up the rope past the first ten feet. His ears flattened against his head and he felt a bit guilty by not only showing them up, but completely leaving them in the dust.
He shook his head and quickly swallowed those feelings. If this was potentially a ticket out of doing terrible work, by the gods, he was going to take it for all it's worth. With his determination once again renewed, he set himself to making it to the top, no matter who faced him.
Selayi winces as she is slashed across the face, the welt a clear sign of her defiance and spirit, but also how helpless she is. While she would wish nothing better to push that man from the ship, she is unable to clearly call any magic, most likely from lack of rest. Then to be suddenly forced up the stairs at hatch edge is enough to make her show a slight struggle, displeased at the hatchet at her neck, which rightly earned her a slight nick from the blade as it cut her. The blood trickled down slowly as they are presented to the captain, a human male who seemed to be full of himself and not fit to run a bilge pump, let alone any ship. The hatred is quite clear when their plight it made clear by the lack of surrounding land.
Things only got worse as they were given orders. Selayi was not one to normally climb up the sides of ships, and while she would race there to do so, she clearly had no idea how to climb them. She tries to pull herself up fully by her arms alone, which fail her in the most splendid manner, as she hauls nothing up. She clearly made great effort to move, and yet despite the slight sweat on her brow, she hadn't moved even off the deck. If nothing else, the rising purple hue of her cheeks made it all the more clear how much effort she was actually putting forth, and the clear lack of progress.
It was hot. Why is my skin burning? What's all that noise? Ah feth!! the thoughts pounded through Erevin's skull as he rolled to his feet drunkenly and raced/stumbled over to the railing and promptly threw up what was left of last night's celebrations into the ocean. His stomach heaved a few times theatrically as he purged the last of the poison they had fed him after correctly identifying the last hints of Taggit oil on his tongue. He tried to mentally retrace his steps and had a faint memory of waiting impatiently for the contact to show up in the seedy bar last night and thinking the drink had a strange nutty flavor to it.
"Brew your own damn drink from now own you idiot." the tall human muttered to himself as he stood up straight and stretched his aching muscles. He stopped halfway and his hands began to pat all over his body, an expression of panic growing on his face. He had only a few seconds to search and turn back to the ship before he ducked under the end of a whip that came whistling towards his face. His back bumped against the railing of the ship as he took full stock of the situation and registered defeat with a slumping of his shoulders. Taking a deep breath he pushed his long blue-black hair back with both hands before walking over to the mast and gripping one of the thick ropes that ringed the processed tree trunk.
Erevin gave a smirk to the struggling woman as he began to slowly ascend with sure steps. He stopped at ten feet up and watched as the black catfolk literally danced up the pole before letting go and dropping back to the deck with a thud, landing lightly on both feet. He patted his waist in satisfaction and froze for a second as his fingers came to rest on a section of his belt. A tiny smile of victory ghosted across his mouth for a moment before he stood back and watched in admiration as the cat folk almost sprinted up to the crow's nest before arrogantly hanging from the lip of the perch.
"I believe we have a winner miss, and it's not us." Erevin drawled to the short, blue skinned woman.
Well it wasn’t the first time he had blacked out. But it certainly was one of the few times he woke up and still felt the world rocking around him.
Baltin groaned softly as he came up out of the darkness of unconsciousness, his tone clearly agitated that he was waking up. As his senses slowly returned to him, he felt several strange sensations all at once. First there was the odd taste in his mouth; an after-flavor that didn’t usually associate itself with his drinking. Was it… oil of taggit? Had someone actually spiked his drink with poison? He’d been fed so many drinks over the course of the evening, from so many customers who had been enthralled with his tales. He’d pounded back quite a few in quick succession without much thought. Though, there had been that last little tale about the pitiful sailor who had celebrated too hard and been press-ganged for his naivete.
There was also a lot of noise. Hoots and hollers and booming voices that vibrated in his skull like performing drums. Slowly his eyelids peeled back and revealed completely blank white sclera, narrowed slightly at the bright sun from above. A hazy mist hung in front of vision for a few moments as his sight adjusted. That explained the sudden and unwanted warmth across his skin, save for the hardness pressed up against his lying side.
A few of the dots started to add together as he managed to return to full sight. A quick glance around to the men and outline of his immediate area spoke well for where he was and what may or may not have happened. Ah irony – thou art a cruel b*!&+. Baltin pushed himself to his feet, rubbing his temples with his middle fingers and then giving a quick shake of his entire head to finalize his return to the world of the living. His shoulder-length silver hair hung loose around his head and as he craned his neck to look up the length of the mast, the scar running across the left side of his face was evident. Against the gleam of the sun, he couldn’t quite make out the finer features of the cat person on the towering lumber but they seemed quite proud of themselves as they hung from the nest above. There was also an Undine standing at its base next to a human, watching the scene play out as well. Another turn of the head and he was met with the sight of a tall, muscle-bound Tiefling woman standing and watching the scene play out as well. His eyes lingered on her for a few moments longer than the others.
He took one last glance around to see what else he could pick up visually before he put on a haphazard grin. “Seems like I missed the party instructions then,” he said simply as he walked over to the human and undine.
The others were starting to wake up. One was a Catfolk that seemed about as upset at all this as she herself was… which was to say, not very upset. Or maybe he was hiding it well. Either way, the humanoid feline did little other than watch the scene unfold, and boy was it a scene. A creature whose species Gadreel didn’t really recognize stood up and practically demanded answers. There was no surprise to her when the man with a trigger happy hand on his whip took the excuse to pull it out and snap a quick lash across the woman’s face, drawing a light chuckle from the Tiefling.
Or at least, she would have chuckled. The crew from the ship jumped into action, and she barely had time to react before the present sailors jumped her, pulling back her arms to engage in an all out brawl. Sure, closed quarters inside the bowels of a ship wasn’t exactly the best space for a fight, but hey if they wanted to start something she was more than happy to play ball. Unfortunately, Gadreel was absolutely no match for one of these guys, let alone multiple of them and she was quickly overwhelmed. Even her strength was no match for what she was up against, and such knowledge made her quickly rethink herself. The Tiefling was all about showing off her brawn and using it to get what she wanted, but she also had very clear beliefs on how she should react to those who prove to be mightier than herself.
And so, in what was likely the quickest turn around the pirates had likely seen before, Gadreel simply stopped fighting them. Did the idea of being press ganged into being a pirate appeal to her? Not particularly, but it wasn’t as though she had a choice. This was her life for the next foreseeable future, and the Tiefling made peace with that in record time. By the time the others who had been taken were lined up on the deck with her and the veteran crew members, Gadreel was already standing with the air of someone who was ready to do as ordered.
The captain introduced himself as Barnas Harrigan and made it clear that at no point was anyone allowed to speak with him directly. He also made it very clear that murdering anyone on board would be a crime punishable by a very gruesome death. With those two instructions out of the way, he only stuck around long enough to command one Mr. Plugg to get them into shape.
The Tiefling waited patiently for orders. She didn’t say anything when Mr. Plugg took the time to openly scowl at her, fixing her with a scrutinous eye. She did, however, return his gaze with an even one of her own. The look bore no challenge, no ire, no sense of maliciousness -- simply attentive curiosity. The man barked for everyone to climb up to the crow’s nest, promising a lashing to whoever didn’t make it up quickly enough.
She’d barely turned around before the Catfolk was already shimmying up the main mast. No surprise there. He was maybe showing off a little, but that was something Gadreel could respect. Better to make yourself look useful in a place like this, something the woman from before seemed to be having trouble with. Off she ran to the base of the mast, but try as she might to pull herself up her feet never even left the ground. Gadreel grinned in amusement and quickly made her way over toward the mast as well. She got there just in time for one of the others, a human who had still been asleep until recently, tried to encourage the woman a bit while he started his climb. As Gadreel pulled herself up the mast, she smirked and in a deep voice contributed, “Perhaps not, but I think right now being first is less important than not being last.”
That was about as much as she was going to extend in an effort of support. No one ever made a name for themselves on a pirate ship, or really anywhere in this region, for being nice. Gadreel wasn’t exactly the helpful type anyway. Anyone paying attention would probably be able to pick up the Chelish accent in her speech, though she spoke with arguably more education and annunciation than most might think of a Tiefling who came from a country that regarded her kind as less than slaves.
Up she moved along the mast as quickly as she could with her hulking form. Gadreel wasn’t nearly as quick as the lithe cat man, but her climb was steady, even, and she wasn’t last at the moment, so that was good enough for her. It gave her enough time to look down and see the last druggee wake up. Was he an Aasimar? Well, the two of them were probably going to have some kind of interesting interaction later. She’d never met an Aasimar before, but that didn’t mean she was oblivious to the fact that both their races were basically mortal enemies. As she continued her climb, she thought to herself, Boy, my life just got a whole lot more exciting…
Reginald continued to hang and swing around the mast as he used it to get a better overall look of the ship, this Wormwood that would appear to be their new home for the time being. As he did so he finally saw a couple of the others that had been pulled into this circumstance as well finally managing to rouse themselves to consciousness. He saw the one narrowly avoid a close encounter of the whip to his face after being at the railing of the ship. The other finally was struggling to his feet after being the last one to rouse. Both of them looked human enough, as far as he was concerned. Though the one that woke up dead last appeared to have rather unique silver hair, which seemed rather unusual though he couldn't really be one to judge that himself.
After a few more moments of seeing the others try, fail, or almost immediately give up, he decided to call back down to the taskmaster, "So now what? I do say I quite enjoy the view, but I can't imagine this is all there is to this particular command!" He watched as the grey-skilled woman with the rather large wings still continue to climb. He did admire her attitude not wanting to back down, as despite his own complacency at the moment, he wanted to change his own situation for the better soon.
He did wonder for a mere moment why she would be so compliant considering how intimidating she had been, but then doing a quick count of the already numerous crew mates and being horrible unarmed meant that they really didn't have much say in their status. If they barked jump, they would jump, as those who ask how high were going to end up with some interesting disfigurements on their flesh before too long. It's smarter to do what you're told when you have no alternative, with your backs against the open ocean.
He climbed into the nest to stand and get a better look around at what happened to already be up inside of it. He squinted as the sun unfortunately caught his eye just the wrong way and he found himself blinking furiously to clear them, leaning on the edge of the nest, gripping it tightly as he waited for his vision to clear proper once again.
The whip twitched in the black bearded humans' fingers but any punishment was forestalled by a raised hand from Mr. Plugg. The bald man glared at Erevin and Selayi with equal venom for a few seconds before sharing his clear hatred for the rest of the other new recruits who could in no way keep up with the limber catfolk. A few of the pirates who were up in the rigging nodded in admiration to the feline before going back to work to avoid the furious stare of the first mate.
A bitter smile grew on Mr. Pluggs face as he sauntered over to Erevin. "You know what I hate?"
He lashed out suddenly with the cat-o'-ninetails and laid open the human's back, shredding his shirt and staining it with blood. As Erevin dropped to his knees in pain the first mate knelt down and dragged him back up with a fist in his hair, pulling him backwards and looking wildly at the other recruits. "THIS IS WHAT YOU ARE TO ME! DO YOU UNDERSTAND!? I DO NOT ASK FOR LIP, I DO NOT ASK FOR OPINION, I EXPECT OBEDIENCE!"
He threw Erevin to the deck and pointed with the bloodied lash at Reginald. "You are a rigger now! The rest of you get down here! MOVE!"
Some of the new recruits almost fell down in their attempt to avoid Erevin's fate and clumped together in front of the angry first mate. He looked from one person to the next with a scowl on his face and stood with his arms behind his back. "Which one of you sorry lots can make more than boiling water?"
Staying quietly an unobtrusively on the ground, Erevin gritted his teeth against the agony in his back. And that's my good shirt! he screamed in his head as images of strangling the first mate with his weapon after dipping him in acid danced through his imagination. After a few seconds the pain began to fade as his body sent a flood of chemicals to his back to shield his mind. His mind went back to the early days of his life, the many long years of scrounging in the refuse for any hint of food that the taverns would have disposed of. How often he had been beaten by drunken pirates on shore leave after weeks of pillaging, murder and worse.
He thought back to the first man he had killed, a pirate who had thought he could treat the young man like a common street whore. After Erevin had fought back he had somehow managed to take the enchanted dagger from the drunk's hand.
His fear had flashed into cold rage, a pent up fury that had been building for years. One stab, two, three stabs hadn't been enough. Every second of pain and hunger had been carved into the pirates body long after his heart had stopped pumping. Later Erevin had stripped the mutilated body of every value and dumped it into the ocean. Watching the corpse drift away with the tide before vanishing under the water had given Erevin a cold satisfaction.
The next day he had sold the dagger to the local enchanter in return for instruction. That one sale facilitated years of instruction to all thing magical. While he had showed no talent for sorcery and whose faith had yet to find a home his keen intellect unlocked an even rarer gift. Under his fingers all matter of magical items would be born, a potential that would create a world in which Erevin would never feel the lash or go hungry again.
Gritting his teeth he pushed himself upright again and shoved his way through the crowd. Ignoring the startled looks and dripping blood he starred the first mate down for a long time before delivering a wicked smile of all teeth. "Why sir, I am the very man you seek. Stew, roast, fried...I can do it all."
Selayi sniffs, clearly not placated with the answer about losing. Though in her mind that small voice whispered in her ear why even try, you knew you could not do it, this was folly. Take the whipping next time you stupid girl. This however was attempted to be covered up when she said " I do not plan on losing here nor anywhere. Humans always trying to take what isn't theirs.". The conversation was cut short however, as the sound of the whip came, caused her to wince when the whip came across the man's back, only this time blood was drawn versus the welt she had across her face. She could put on all the bravado she wanted, but she was as helpless as the rest until she could get a proper night's sleep.
Luckily the human made mention that he could cook, though she had started to raise her hand to say she could. She quickly put it back down, hopeful no one had noticed she had also most volunteered for it. Maybe if she got luckily she would only have to clean the decks or whatever, as she had heard tales of the less scrupulous pirates and how they handled their female 'crewmates'. All she had to do was stay quiet now, and perhaps the rest will avoid anymore lashings
Had there been some kind of contest?
Probably a test, more like. If this was a press-ganging, and he was fairly convinced it was, they were probably trying to root out who was useful where. Baltin glanced upwards at the catfolk, shading his eyes with his hand as the clear winner took his time pandering in victory. He did deserve it – he’d seemed to climb to the top before some of them had even left the deck. The Tiefling stated that just taking part in the contest was probably more important than not. A fair guesstimate and he took a moment to watch her start climbing up the beam, a wry little smirk tugging on his mouth as he did so. “You heard the lady…” he said as he started to reach out and follow.
But it seemed that it didn’t matter. The man bearing the cat-o’-ninetails spoke up about his agitation and then opted to showcase that selfsame aggression by lashing it out at the human. Baltin barely had time to take a quick step back to avoid the whiplash of the weapon, placing several feet between him and the armed pirate. He watched as the human was hoisted up by his hair and made quite a clear example of. Okay, so we’re not playing around then, he thought to himself mirthlessly. They were all ordered to stand before him, so as to take part in yet another test. Having missed the first one and narrowly avoided being punished for it, Baltin was quick to plant himself before the first mate.
They were asked who could cook. He frowned slightly. Could he even boil water? He assumed it just meant putting water in a pot and putting it over fire. But beyond that… he was halfway to useless. Luckily – and much to his surprise – the human spoke up and declared himself the worthiest of the lot. The undine’s arm had twitched just out of his peripheral, as she had seemed intent on offering her services. Just a bit too late, he thought as he looked around carefully.
A rigger and a cook already assigned. What else was there to do aboard a pirate vessel?
Gadreel was starting to get the feeling that being obedient wasn’t necessarily going to win her any favors. She was barely even eight feet up the mast when Mr. Pluggs let loose another violent crack of his whip, this time at the human, and demanded that everyone get back down to deck. This was partially about proving useful, sure… but this was definitely starting to look more like cruelty for the sake of cowing people into submission. Having genuine loyalty wasn’t something they were looking for at the moment, and she had a feeling that even if she were to explain the edicts of her order they probably wouldn’t believe her.
And why should they? Not only was she a Tiefling, but she was from Cheliax. Double points against her. Potentially triple if they found out who she really was. She didn’t wait even a second once the order was given, immediately letting go and dropping to the ground in line with the others where she remained knelt down on one knee in a gesture of servitude. It was amazing how quickly the habit switched back on after five weeks of freedom. A bitter taste set itself on her tongue that had nothing to do with the poison they’d fed her the night before. Out from one hell hole and into another. Was this always going to be her life?
While she was certainly afraid, the awful truth was that Gradreel was a bit numb to it. It felt like she’d gone back home. All she could do was listen as Mr. Plugg demanded anyone with cooking abilities to speak up. The Tiefling had absolutely zero skill there, so she stayed silent. Interestingly enough, it was the recently lashed human that stepped forward. She didn’t notice the blue skinned woman start to raise her hand, mostly because Gadreel was doing her best to keep her eyes fixed on the floor. She was tough, and clearly they assumed that already or she probably wouldn’t be here, but any show of aggression toward these guys was likely to get her in a lot of trouble that she wasn’t sure she could get out of. Honestly it was a miracle she hadn’t been beaten below deck already.
Without so much as looking at the others that had been captured with her, she simply stayed knelt where she was and waited for the next set of orders that were sure to come.
Reginald listened hard as his eyes were finally starting to clear and hear an unmistakable sound of a whip-crack and more shouting from Mr. Plugg. He craned his head down in time to see the one human be thrown to the deck, the back of his shirt ripped asunder and bloodied from the cat-o'-ninetails he was brandishing.
He saw him point the wretched thing at him, almost spitting out the fact he was a rigger now. Made sense, they wanted someone to be able to shimmy up and down ropes to handle the rigging and sails as much as possible. He knew he could handle such a task on a clear day as it was. The real challenge was when it was stormy, the sea tossing and all the surfaces absolutely soaked.
He grabbed one of the ropes, wrapping it around his arm for stability and swung back down to the main deck. He felt invigorated with the rush of air ruffling his fur as he descended back to the main deck, just as quickly if not faster as he when he climbed up to the crow's nest in the first place. Upon landing back down on the deck, he unwrapped the rope from around his arm, and stood to one side as he watched Mr. Plugg bark the next task of requesting for those that had any sense of cooking to make themselves known.
He found no small amount of irony that the human that he just turned the back of into mincemeat, immediately respond that he could cook. What's more not only could he cook, but he was pretty damn good at it if he could do the various kinds of cooking he said.
He looked over to the others, waiting to see if anyone else would volunteer, or if they were hoping for something more to their abilities. He rubbed the back of his neck while he waited on whatever orders for himself, continuing to watch the others get sorted into jobs on the ship.
The cat-o-ninetails dripped blood on the deck as the firstmate sized up Erevin's grin and disheveled state, his eyes darting around at the rest of the new recruits before he nodded curtly. "Then you are the cook's monkey from now on, go report to Ambrose Kroop in the galley. The rest of you will be under the command of Mr. Scourge who you will find has a far less gentle soul then mine."
The bald Mr. Plugg spun on his heel and ascended up the stairs to the poop deck, taking station behind the ornate steering wheel and hanging the bloody cat-o-ninetails from his belt. The scruffy black haired Mr. Scourge grinned amiably at the recruits who had failed the climbing and cooking tests, his single gold tooth glinting in the sunlight. "Righto ye scallywags! Puss n'boots back up into the lines, the rest of you swabs listen up!"
Influence: Make normal checks for a job's daily task and attempt to influence a single NPC.
Sneak: Make normal checks for a job's daily task and briefly explore one area of the ship.
Shop: Take a -2 penalty on all checks for the a job's daily task and visit the quartermaster's store.
Shirk: Take a -2 penalty on all checks for a job's daily task and take time exploring one area of the ship. You can take a 10 on a single Perception check or other skill but will need to keep an eye out to prevent discovery.
Gamble: Play or gamble on a game or chance or pirate entertainment.
Entertain: Make on perform check to entertain the crew.
Influence*: Attempt to influence a single NPC.
Sneak*:Take time exploring one area of the ship. You will be able to take 20 on a single perception or skill of your choice but will have to work at being detected.
Steal*:Attempt to open a locked door or locker. You will have to avoid being detected.
Down two decks Erevin will find the ships galley near the bow of the boat, a chaotic and filthy place crammed with two wooden worktables, several cupboards, two small stoves shoved against the port wall. Scattered on every surface was every cooking utensil imaginable and a frightening array of meat cleavers. A small pen of coats was shoved into a dirty corner with three of the placid animals staring at the bleeding human.
At his arrival a short and fat human turned from a simmering pot of some kind of stew and gave Erevin a cooked grin. "New blood eh? Welcome to me merry kitchen!" he said with a drunken lilt to his speech, the skin of his face pale and sagging. The man overall is in a very poor state, years of forced piracy taking a heavy toll of his body.
"Being me mate isn't such a bad job, ye stay out of the blistering sun most days and as long as ye do a good job ye rarely catch a beating. Most of the time I'll be avin' ye cook but sometimes ye'll need to catch our dinner." the cook said. He was interrupted by a rumbling belch that came exploding from his mouth that he quickly silenced by taking a swig from a dark bottle that he snatched off the table.
"Ah thats good stuff. Listen lad this ship is poison but don't let anyone hear you say it. The hull listens, see, and the cap'n hears 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 crews' the same, 'specially the first mate, Mr. Plugg. Right vicious little sod, he is. He'd take his own mother's liver to the butcher to make pies with, he would. But they leave me alone, mostly. They know I can't 'arm 'em." he said the last at a murmur, his eyes locked on the bubbling stew.
He snapped out of his somber expression a moment later, masking the pain with another pull of the potent liquor. After thinking for a second he reaches into a cabinet and pulls out a dirty metal cup that he slams on the table and fills to the brim with rum before sliding it towards Erevin. "Sit matey and 'ave a drink with me, I'll 'ave a look at yer back."
Selayi quickly goes about her task, making it clear after the beating Erevin received she was not wanting to be on the end of one herself. She found out in a hurry they expected her to trim some of the sails that had been damaged, and after a few moments she felt it was purely because she was a female they expected her to know what she was doing, and that was made only more clear with some snide comments by the other pirates onboard. In response she tried to strike up a friendly conversation with one of them, only for in her distraction she took the threading out too far. This was not normally a big deal, but she had the bad luck to make the mistake right when Mr. Scourge was walking past. He quickly took the chance to have her embarrassed in front of the others, and the beating quick and brutal enough to leave her back in ribbons as well. The last memory Selayi had was of the two pirates holding her laughing as she crumpled into a pile on the deck.
Some time later, Selayi woke up in the cabin of the ship doctor, her back sore and wrapped in bandages. She smiles weakly at the doctor on board, but as she opens her mouth he quickly shoves her from the door and out back into the main deck, with the words "Get back to work girlie." With her clothing pulled up, it wasn't easy to see the bandages, but everyone had seen her stripped to the waist and struck, and some of the crueler pirates would give her a 'friendly' slap on the back as she went back to working on the sails.
The second time she sat there in silence, the salty breeze from the ships movement in the water spraying her every so often, and causing her to remember at some point she needs to fix her hair back. She however goes back to the sails, insuring she takes her time with the sails, looping and un-looping the appropriate spots. After a while of hard work, and ignoring other things, she looks up and has finally repaired not only the area she had messed up, but had even make progress on other areas that were in dire need of repairs. It was nearing the end of the day and a short female came along, and gave her a compliment. She nodded and said "Yes, thank you." This then got her started into a conversation with the female, a rather beautiful and smart talking halfling woman. Come to find out her name was Rosie, and she was a pretty decent talker. Having finished her daily task, she would spend the rest of the day and her time of getting to know Rosie, finding out what brought her to the Wormwood.
Reginald snapped to attention almost unconsciously as Mr. Plugg ordered him back up the lines once more. "Of course sir, as you desire." He purred, taking once more the rope that he used to come down and hoist himself back up it to assist the other riggers with the job he had been given. Even though he wasn't as flashy this time with his ascent, quick glances to the other riggers already told him that they were not very fond of his earlier showmanship. He let out a soft sigh and diligently did his task. He did decide to finish up hastily as he wanted to meet some of the other crew members and get to know them better as well.
When he finished and Mr. Scourge eyed his work, he was satisfied with the job Reginald did. He happily took the extra time to meet up with a female half-orc with a rather large scar that after some idle chit-chatting he found to be the quartermaster of the ship, Cut-Throat Grok. Not sure if the nickname was for what happened to her or what she did to others, he decided it was in his best interest to avoid asking that particular question to her.
When night finally fell and the various carousing and drinking was finally to be upon them after a hard day's work, he was relieved to be having a round. Unfortunately just a whif of the drinks they were having was overpowering. He couldn't drink it, and wondered how they managed to drink it since it smelled like it could strip paint. He carefully managed to feign a drink, sneaking his portion over the deck, almost pitying whatever poor creature was about to consume it. He quickly rejoined the others with his emptied glass and found himself once again chatting with Grok once more.
He saw the other riggers that had given him the looks from before and he wanted to make it up to them by telling some stories from his past. Of course most of it was some personal experiences he had from his previous jobs on ships as well as the various tales he had heard when growing up and idolizing the stories of swashbucklers and those dashing heroes of the road and seas. By the end, he was grinning and hanging with them, hoping they at least were entertained enough that they would feel better about him joining their ranks as a fellow rigger.
As the sun starts to edge down towards the horizon the shift change was called out and sailors began to come down from the nets and gather on the main deck. Once the entire crew was gathered it became clear what was about to happen as a red face and sweaty human was dragged out in chains. Mr. Plugg announced that the man, one Jakes Magpie, had been caught pilfering from the ship's stores and admitted his guilt after questioning by the Captain and First Mate. The punishment for such a crime was keelhauling and it was carried out swiftly, a rope being securely tied around Jakes's waist before he was hoisted up and tossed over the bow of the ship.
The rope was held by Mr. Plugg who smirked as the rope -slowly- inched out of his hand. Five minutes later a sodden and shredded corpse was hauled out of the water, all signs of recognition scrubbed away by the razor sharp barnacles on the bottom of ship. After ensuring the corpse was fully dead and divested of all valuables it was untied and tossed unceremoniously into the ocean, vanishing quickly under and followed by an angular fin.
The night was filled with singing and carousing as the ships quartermaster Grokk came up with a bucket and a stack of mugs. She dipped each mugg into the bucket and began to hand them out to the sailors, who each had a mixed expression of desire and regret on their face as they chugged back the foul mix. Reginald moved with the skill of a shadow and dumped the foul brew over the railing while Selayi stumbled and 'accidentally' dumped her share all over the deck. The pirates didn't believe her claim of stumbling and two of them held her still while a third claimed another full mug and forced her head back before pouring the entire cup down her throat.
When Grokk went to give Erevin his share she found the blue-streaked human arm in arm with Fishguts singing a bawdy pirate chanty badly and waving around a half full mug of grog, his words slurred and showing he was well into the stuff already. She only smiled and dumped the bucket back into the giant barrel where the swill was stored before sitting down to join the two drunk cooks. After an hour Erevin staggered up and grabbed a large pot that sloshed with fresh stew along with a basket of sailor's biscuits. Fishguts followed him with a stack of bowls and dropped them next to the younger man as the stepped onto a deck. Leaving Erevin the older human vanished back into the ship to continue drinking until he was insensate.
After the horrid experience of being held once again, Selayi coughs and sputters, but kept down her drink. She struggles often enough to focus on the deck, before stumbling back to her sleeping spot. And spot was about as nice as it got on the limited spaced area they had. She made best she could, and hopefully slept through the night, bothered by none
Reginald was having a grand time swapping stories with the other crew members. He looked over to where the blue woman captive was struggling after having spilled her drink and he cringed inwardly as he watched them make her drink the wretched swill. He continued to laugh and smile as for now he needed to keep a face in order to bide his time. Now wasn't the moment to fight back when they were a bit outnumbered.
He also knew they were jumpy at the indication of insubordination as when she first showed it, all of them were apprehended and forced to the ground, even those that made no motion one way or another. They liked a tight grip on their crew, even the press-ganged.