You remember going to the Formidably Maid to eat and drink and rest while you planned your next move and dreamed of the fortunes you wished for yourselves. There were plenty of new faces that you had never seen before. The Shackles are quite large after all and Port Peril one of the biggest port cities in the Shackles. What happened to you next is a bit foggy, perhaps you were looking for destiny in the bottom of a bottle and drinking till you passed out, or dancing with a flirtatious corsair and looking for a dark corner to 'cuddle' in when a couple of shadowy figures emerged and gave you a beating, or taking a walk to the docks and watching the sea when a sudden force knocked you over and the waves rushed up to meet you and you knocked your head in the shallows. At least you're still alive. You're still sore and have the bruises to prove it but it could be worse. It's dark, you must have made it back to your room with some help. The bed is very hard and uncomfortable though. Did they leave you lying on the floor of your room? You realise your arms are restrained behind your back and the floor seems to move slightly and the smell is far worse than the tavern.
"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!" Before you can react to the loud and angry sounding voice, sea water drenches you, startling you awake. Your senses have cleared enough from the bucket of water to realise you were on a ship. You must be below decks from what you see around you. You lie near one of the masts, likely the main mast, and 2 rows of pillars behind you support the level above. This hold of the ship is mostly empty save for a number of small chests or lockers around the room, crew lockers likely. And a number of hammocks tied up (but not stretched out for use) around the support pillars denote this is the crews quarters.
Seven of the crew stand around you, mostly wearing common sailors garb(leather or cloth vest and loose pants), some with empty buckets in their hands, cutlass at their waist, all looking at you with disdain. One of the men has a whip and when he speaks you recognise his voice as the one that yelled but a moment ago. He wears a red bandana, a long dark beard and several earrings and other jewelry around his neck and on his fingers. A long and slightly tattered black cloak covers his trousers and leather covered chest. A nasty looking hand-axe rests in his belt and a dagger sheath is strapped to his right thigh. As you look up at him from the floor his dark eyes glare at you of an arrow shaped nose.
The whip cracks in the air above you. "Cut their ropes!" The voice at the end of the whip says. The sailors around you unsheathe knives and cut the ropes that bind you, hauling you up to your feet roughly. Three others next to you are also forced to stand. It seems you're not the only one that has been press-ganged today. You realise you are also missing all of your possessions, armour, weapons, spell-books, hats... they have taken everything that you spent your hard-earned gold to acquire, except for the clothes you wear.
Jacques shakes his head to try and clear it, willing the haze away, and glares at the men who have dared to put their hands on him and hold him captive. They must have taken me last night while I drank, puffed up as I was with confidence and resolve. How could I have been so unwary? It is to snarl, these awful men. One day they will pay, I swear this, a league for every inch of life they take from me.
Rosanne winces as she is rudely awakened, cursing as she feels a painful lump on the back of her head. Struggling to her feet she glares with hostility at the noisy ass. Eyes quickly scanning the room. "Fecking shanghaied!" She mutters in realization.
A slender woman, her skin only lightly tanned. Her hair is shoulder length and a deep black, it shows signs of being hacked off with a knife rather than styled. Her garb is simple breeches, and a loose shirt. She has an attractive face, even with the patch over one eye. Her nails look to be long and polished. They shine as she flexes her hands, studying her captors.
Tobias rubs his eyes and stretches his arms and back. The young man calmly straightens his clothes and stands at attention.
Thus the Legend of Tobias Wraithborn begins, the young man thinks to himself, trying not to smile.
Tobias looks around the room, noticing the strange beings around him.
Cnut stands once his ropes are cut. He stoops a little, used to the low ceilings ships all seem to have. No drakkar this. he thinks, looking around at the others. I suppose I’ve been press-ganged. Not the way I was looking to make a crew, but one more tale for the saga, I guess. he thinks, not terribly concerned. He *had* been looking to join a crew, after all. I guess they’ve got me scale. Axe too, no doubt. he thinks as he looks down and sees he’s in plain clothes. He looks around for the stairs. ”Where’s up?” he asks no one in particular.
Cnut is a massive and burly Ulfen man, as tall and broad as any man you’ve ever met. He’s broad-shouldered with thick, hairy arms and legs, but his most striking feature is the massive reddish-brown beard that hangs halfway down his chest. The hair on his head is tame by contrast, apparently cut short enough to fit beneath a helmet. He wears unremarkable sailor’s clothes, but no shoes, making his hairy toes and their prominent nails obvious to anyone who cares to look. His hands are likewise hirsute, with nails that look to have gone a bit too long without clipping and calluses that suggest he’s been working since before he was really old enough. When he speaks, his voice is a bass rumble, practically a growl.
Now that your head is cleared some, you notice a lingering, foul, oily aftertaste that is not quite gone from the night before. And you are sure you remember seeing the man with the whip last night.
Alchemy DC 15 or Nature DC 10
This as a clear sign of oil of taggit poisoning. They drugged you to put you to sleep and keep you there until far out to sea.
The man with the whip lets out a sinister laugh. "That's right girl, be careful not to break one of those pretty nails." His whip cracks again and the pirates surrounding you push you in the direction of the stairs that lead up. The top of the stairs opens to another hold, with caged pig and other stored goods. There is a wall that encloses a large area of the hold at one end which must be, from your previous experience on a ship, where the galley likely is. A big looking man sits in the shadows next to the other set of stairs near you where he is chained.
You are pushed again towards a ladder that leads up. Above you are wooden grates and one has been opened enough to allow passage via a moveable ladder. "Up with ya and meet our good Cap'n." The bright light above hurts your eyes and you are forced to ascend before they can adjust or risk the whip behind you. It cracks again and hurries you up...
...until you are standing on the main deck. About a dozen other crew members are going about their jobs, swabbing or up in the rigging, constantly adjusting the sails to keep the ship moving at full speed. In front of you the main mast rises up 60 ft. in the air topped with a crow's nest. The rigging connects each of the three masts and their sails. At the foot of the main mast, thick strands of rope have been wound around it for use as a whipping post. A foot above that hangs the ship’s clock, a macabre brass-and-copper object depicting worms writhing through whale corpses. On the port side a jolly boat is tied with oars secured nearby.
You four are not the only new recruits. Another group of four stands idly near you, too clean to be anything but recently recruited. A human woman, pretty, with red hair under a tricorne hat. A halfling woman currently cursing under her breath with a foul look on her face hiding any beauty she might possess. A human male with a bandana covering his hair and a dark look on his face. A gnome male with a foppish hat, fake eye patch, silk shirt and a cane who looks as if he's an actor dressed as a pirate in a stage play. Real life is far less glamorous.
"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." Another voice booms out from above you to the front of the ship. At the guardrail of the poop deck above stands your captain, a broad, muscular Garundi man with a shaven head, a long beard bound with gold rings, and an eye patch. Next to him is a younger, balding man with a long black ponytail, wearing a long coat and carrying a well-used cat-o’-nine-tails. "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."
Mr. Plugg grinned next to him and looked at the sweatbox behind you, an iron-bound wooden box under the bridge that would get extremely uncomfortable if you were to be stuffed inside. Captain Harrigan walked away to allow Plugg to take charge of the new recruits. With his cat-o-nine in hand he examines each of you with a sharp eye. "As our Cap'n said. We're short on crew. My name is Mister Plugg to you and any failure to complete your assigned duties will answer to me and my cat 'ere." He dangles the cat-o-nine in the air for emphasis. "There be one position needed in the rigging and one cook's assistant. The rest of ye will be swabs. Now I have a couple of tests. First, you will all climb to the crow's nest. First one there will be my rigger. Master Scourge will encourage those who do not wish to climb. GO!" Plugg's arms both lift to point to the sky. Behind you a whip cracks in the air, encouraging you to begin climbing.
the following items are so common aboard the Wormwood that you can easily access them at any time: barrels, baskets, blocks and tackle, candles, canvas, grappling hooks, hemp rope (any length up to 200 feet), lanterns, leather drinking vessels and waterskins, sacks, simple tools or hardware (especially carpentry tools such as hammers and nails), and any other simple items deemed appropriate.
Tobias takes a moment to rubs his hands together, then attempt to climb the mast.
Tobias get up, probably to raucous laughter. The young man rubs his hands again and begins to climb once more.
More raucous laughter. Third time's the charm.
Well feck!" Is Rosanne's opinion of the task.
Staring at the mast with blank incomprehension Rosanne fumbles her attempt to start climbing.
"Cockgnobblers!" is her response to any laughs at her performance.
Half dead from falling Rosanne 'fumbles' all her next attempts and doesn't climb the mast.
Jacques gazes at the mast and then at his companions. He bares his teeth and walks to the mast, arriving after the others. He spits on each hand and then begins to pull himself up the rigging, grunting at the strain.
Cnut has a hard time not laughing in this Plugg's face. *This* was their idea of a test? He restrained himself only because he saw no point getting scourged his first day. Slowly, deliberately, he approachd the mast, sizing it up as he went. As the others tried their best to scramble up the shaft, he steeled himself for what he knew was to come. For unleashing the curse, nay the gift, that lurked within his flesh. He knew the change, it was like an old friend. But that didn't mean it was painless. I suppose they're going to learn the truth earlier than most. As it took hold he let out a roar of pain and fury. A roar which turned into something less, and more, than human. Something bestial. The hair across his form thickened, more and more hair sprouting every second. His nails lengthened and strengthened into claws. And, most painfully of all, his skull warped and twisted, his ears shifting up his head as his mouth and nose stretched into a snout and his teeth lengthened and sharpened. In seconds, there stood not a man, but a lycanthropic creature, ursine in form. Wasting no time, he leapt up the pole, his claws digging into the mast and letting him climb hand over hand as quickly as a normal man 'climbs' stairs.
The other four recruits are not so new that they don't already have assigned jobs so they move off to work and it is only the four of you that climb.
Toby gets a good headstart with Rosanne close behind and Jacques climbing carefully just behind them, pausing a little to make sure of his footing. A few seconds later Toby and then Rosanne fall from above Jacques and back to the deck to try again.
No one seems to notice their falls or failure to climb further as all eyes are on Cnut. As he took a moment before he started to climb, Master Scourge pulled back his arm to let his whip fly at Cnut for hesitating. Scourge did not follow through as Cnut started to transform and instead he took a step back, looking slightly worried. A similar look was on all crew that watched, with hands going to weapon hilts all round. Cnut raced past Jacques and was at the crow's nest in just over 10 seconds. Taking 1 minute to ascend, Jacques soon joined him. Several crew working in the rigging were still staring up at them.
Back on the main deck Rosanne and Toby are faced with Mr. Plugg who has come down the stairs from the fore deck and stands in front of them, cat-o-nine still in hand. "Pitiful, worthless landlubbers. Can any of ye cook?"
Toby - 8
Rosanne - 6
Rosanne looks at Plugg and thinks a few things that would get her lashed if she voiced them. Shrugging she speaks, "I can cook."
Waiting to see what the other strangers would say, though she doubted the Bear would make a cook?
Jacques stares at Cnut, partly in wonder and partly in admiration. Mondieu, that should make them more wary of whipping us, I think.
"Aye, well then ye can be off and get down to the galley. You're the new Cook's mate. Fishguts'll sort ye out." Plugg tells Rosanne and points his cat-o-nine to the ladder you climbed earlier.
He then looks up at the crow's nest, spotting Jacques and Cnut. "Get back down here ye worthless maggots!" he yells up at them, looking angry, "This ain't no pleasure voyage, there's work to be done, fur or no fur!"
Cnut climbs down plots as swiftly as he climbed up, drops to the deck and then, with a pained grunt, resumes his fully human form.
Jacques descends with dignity, carefully, and steels himself for further abuse.
Plugg seems to share a look with Scourge as he debates what to do with the remaining 3 recruits. He looks sharply at Cnut, "Ye were the fastest so ye'll be my new rigger. But I don't want no more o' them cursed antics or ye'll be shark bait ye hear!"
He looks at Jacques and Toby, "See Scourge for ye tasks. He sees to the swabs which be yer new job title. Welcome aboard the Wormwood."
Looking to Jacques and shrugs, the other tall tan man walks over to Scourge. "We are your new swabs. What shall we do first?"
Jacques's gaze lingers on Plugg, then he slowly turns and follows Toby.
Tasks
Cnut - - Swab - Rat Catcher
Jacques - - Swab - Man the Bilges
Rosanne - - Cook's Mate - Turtle Hunting
Toby - - Rigger - Line Work
Daytime Ship Actions - 1 each (see campaign tab)
Cnut is sent to find and kill any rats or bugs below decks that he can find.
Jacques is sent into the bilges to clean, a job hated by all.
A small hatch behind the main mast in the lower hold reveals a ladder down into the damp, dark, smelly bilges. Even the little light from leaving the hatch open does little to chase away the shadows. Thick cobwebs line the ceiling and dry corners while up to 2 ft. of foul, brackish water cover half of the bottom of the ship. As you climb down you see the bilge pump near the stern and half a dozen shackles fixed to the bulkheads in the forward end suggest a makeshift brig. Indeed as your eyes adjust you see a man slumped in the shadows, chained up down here. He could be asleep or dead as far as you can tell.
SPIDER! A bright red spider has dropped down onto your shoulder out of the cobwebs above when you disturbed its web.
The spider bites scurries towards the soft skin of your neck and jabs its fangs in .
Toby is put to lowering and hoisting the sails, hard work.
Rosanne is tasked with turtle hunting with harpoons, hooks and nets.
Down the ladder you climb into the middle hold and make your way to the stern and the Galley. The Galley is the domain of Ambrose "Fishguts" Kroop. It is a cramped and chaotic space, holding two wooden worktables, several wooden cupboards, two small stoves on the port wall that are lit and have bubbling cauldrons on them. Virtually every cooking utensil imaginable is laid out or scattered around the room as well as a frightening array of meat cleavers. A score of chickens and 3 goats wander freely. It is a madness of dirt, food and knives. 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. In addition, three harpoons, a spear and a grapple hang on the walls.
The cook is cradling one of the chickens in his arms and talking quietly to it before he notices you have entered. "Ah. You must the new Cook's mate. Last one ran away while we docked at Port Peril and the Cap'n sent Scourge to bring 'em back. Guess he's free or dead now. Anyway, the name's Ambrose Kroop, but most just call me Fishguts. Allow me to give you a rundown of the job. You'll help me prepare the meals, catch some fish or turtles if we run out, and have a little drink every now and then with me and Redbeard here." He seems to be referring to the chicken when he says the name, Redbeard. Looking closer at Fishguts you can see multiple stains on his apron and a utility belt holding several knives and other cooking implements. Sturdy sailor's shoes, baggy trouser and sleeveless cloth shirt is topped by a white chef's hat. A bottle of rum nearby makes you notice the strong smell of alcohol surrounding him. The man is wide shouldered and strong, but a good amount of fat fills him out somewhat around the waist. His face is clean shaven and wide, with a large grin and wide nose but mostly a bored look in his dark eyes.
Toby - 8
Rosanne - 6
Jacques - 1 (possibly poisoned)
Rigger (Line Work)
As he goes about his linework, Tobias sings a few shanties to entertain himself and others nearby.
Daytime Ship Action - Influence
Jacques glares at the venomous creature, and flicks it off of him with an angry grunt.
He moves quickly toward the body, looking about him for a weapon that he could use.
Shrugging a touch Rosanne gathers up fishing lines and heads to the ships side to begin her hunt. Finding plenty of fish following the ship she hauls in more than enough to feed the crew.
Heading back to the galley she gives her catch to Fishguts and does her best to help him prepare the meal.
Once done with the preparation Rosanne will search the galley under the guise of cleaning it.
While she works she puts on her best friendly face and tries to get information out of Fishguts regarding the ship and it's crew.
They say I'm to be a rigger, then thy send me to catch rats? What kind of incompetents are running this ship? Cnut spends the day mostly being surly and distracted and *normal*, and consequently barely finds enough rats and beetles and whatnot, despite working diligently all day.
Actually
Toby is sent to find and kill any rats or bugs below decks that he can find.
Cnut is put to work lowering and hoisting the sails, hard work.
You brush the spider away and it scurries back to its web unharmed to trouble you no further. You feel the sting of the bite but no deeper pain. It's poison did not work its way into your body.
You move towards the man who sits chained against the bulkhead and look around. There are several small broken crates filled with straw scattered around and you find some leather armour, 3 heavy maces and 12 silver pieces. a wooden buckler.
As you get close to the man you can tell he is breathing and alive. His eyes open and he notices you. "Who are you? Tell them it was a mistake!"
A look through the mess finds you a masterwork dagger apparently being used as a butcher’s knife. Maybe Kroop has no use for well crafted daggers other than cutting vegetables. There are a lot of knives in this Galley, more than any galley you've seen before.
A half-orc woman comes out of the Quartermaster's store during the day to have a drink with Fishguts. "You must be one of the new recruits. You can call me Cut-Throat Grok. I'm Quartermaster here. Stuck with Fishguts are ya. Well just don't run away hey." You get a chance to talk casually with Grok and Kroop during the day and Kroop tells you quietly, "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 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 is a downtrodden, out of luck fellow with only his galley and his chickens remaining to him in life. Once he was a famous chef at an expensive restaurant in Port Peril and now almost the only thing he cooks is fishgut stew. Kroop is only still here because he was so drunk once that he bet his life against the Captain and lost and is now practically Harrigan's slave. "Forget any dreams ye might have lass, Harrigan'll squash 'em if ya don't." Cut-Throat Grok seems to be the only friend he has on this ship and he tells you that she loves fine alcohol and song .
Day Actions
Cnut - Work Diligently
Toby - Influence (who?)
Jacques -
Rosanne -
The MW dagger goes under Rosanne's shirt. She is friendly without going too far over the top. She nods in understanding at Fishgut's advice and makes a note to find some good booze to sweeten up Grok.
"What do you mean, what was a mistake? Tell me, who are you?" Jacques's manner is rough and intimidating.
"My name's Jakes Magpie. They think I tried to steal from the Quartermaster. I wasn't actually going to take anything. She just left the door unlocked while talking to Fishguts so I decided to wait inside the store for her. I don't want to be keelhauled!"
Toby's singing catches some attention, some smile, some laugh or grimace. You manage to make an impression with Barefoot Samms Toppin. She is a former fisherwoman from the sodden lands who never wears shoes. She has a motherly bearing about herself and a quiet, no nonsense outlook. She left her village to seek fortune on the sea but has had about as much luck as yourself.
Cnut spends an exhausting day dealing with the sails of an unfamiliar ship, then turns in early that night, hoping for a better day tomorrow.
Mr. Plugg berates Cnut for every little mistake he makes. "Ye think showing off and bein' the fastest climber is all that matters? None o' that matters 'ere ye worthless sod!"
Day Actions
Cnut - Work Diligently
Toby - Influence (successful)
Jacques - Visit Quartermaster?
Rosanne - Work Diligently
------------------------------------------------------------------------
As the sun goes down the ship's clock chimes and work stops. The wormwood is anchored a mile off the coast of an unknown island covered in trees. A mountain rises behind. "Gather round for the bloody hour! Witness the penalty that comes to those that would break the Wormwood's peace!" Mr. Plugg shouts, commanding all to gather round the main mast. All bar Captain Harrigan stood crowded on the main deck. The captain stood on the bridge above the crew, and waited.
A few moments later, several crew members you recognise from your rude awakening this morning are hauling a dirty man from below deck and towards the starboard side of the main deck. They stopped near the rail. Mr. Plugg shouts, "This man, Jakes Magpie, has been found attempting to steal from the Quartermaster's storage! As the Wormwood is our great Cap'n's ship, stealing from his officers is the same as stealing from the Cap'n himself." Plugg rounded on Jakes with a fire in his eye. "Do ye have anything to say for yeself worm?"
Jakes shivers and doesn't meet the eye of Plugg or the Captain, but searches the crowd looking for something. "It- I didn't know she wasn't there. So I just walked in. I didn't take anything!"
Plugg looks to Cut-Throat Grok, the Quartermaster. "Our Quartermaster walked back in to find you holding valuable equipment. She has assured me that she would never leave the storeroom without locking the door. You also know well that it is forbidden to enter the parts of the ship reserved for officers without permission or one of them present. You tell more lies and worsen yer case. Admit what ye did!"
Jakes shoulders droop and he drops on his knees. "I did it- I tried to steal from the Quartermaster. Please sir have mercy. I admit my mistake. I know it was wrong and I swear it will never happen again!"
Plugg looks from Jakes to the Captain. "He admits his crime and begs for mercy Cap'n. What be yer judgement?" It is plain to see from his face that he wishes no mercy to be shown. "I thank ye for finally telling us the truth. But a pirate ship cannot hope to run on mercy. Ye are to be keelhauled. If ye survive, perhaps the Pirate Queen has favoured ye tonight." Jakes' face goes white and he struggles against Mr. Plugg and Master Scourge who hold him and secure him to a rope that is run under the ship from stern to bow. It is plain on Plugg's face that he is greatly enjoying himself. Once he is secured and dropped into the water at the rear of the ship, Plugg and Scourge move to the bow and haul on the rope, pulling Jakes under the water and across the ship's barnacle-encrusted side. After roughly a minute, Jakes is halued out of the water and his mangled body is dumped lifelessly on the fore-deck.
Toby shrugs to himself. He's seen keelhauling before on his mother's ship. After the body of poor Jake Magpie is dumped on the deck, the young sailor tries to enjoy the sunset.
Rosanne wonders about the sense of killing a crew member then same day you stated you were short on crew?
Aside from that she has seen harsh punishment before. Stealing onboard ship was always carried that risk.
Jacques knows this is supposed to impress them; they have done a cost-benefit analysis and decided that they can spare one crew member to terrify the others. Jacques isn't scared, but he doesn't speak up to undermine their efforts. He notices Rosanne and Toby having similar reactions, and he raises an eyebrow at them.
Drifting closer to Jacques Rosanne murmurs "Short on crew are they? I think I see why."
Tobias's sharp ears hear the whispered exchange between the woman and tall black man he was press-ganged with, and decides to get closer. The young man stands next to his fellow new recruits and whispers, "They really make feel right-at-home here on The Wormwood, don't they?"
”Crew can be replaced cheaply, goods less so.” Cnut says in a low voice, standing close by the others. From his tone, he’s passing on his evaluation of the Captain’s reasoning, not necessarily agreeing with it.
Tobias looks back to see the immense hairy man, also fellow new recruit and press-gang member. Initially, Toby shrugs, but then nods in agreement. "Well, I'll start the introductions. I'm Tobias. Friends call me Toby", the young man whispered to the group.
Jacques chuckles quietly, a curiously grating sound. "Oui, and this is probably why we were napped, no? They are running out. Wasteful." He narrows his eyes as he watches Plugg and Scourge strut. In response to Tobias, he dips his head ever-so-slightly. "I am Jacques. I would be pleased to call you ami, friend," he murmurs.
"Rosanne. Delighted to meet you all." Rosanne dryly whispers. "I take it none of you are too pleased with our new berth?"
Jakes is soon thrown to the sharks, you notice the red-haired woman wearing the Tricorne saying a word for him as he goes to his watery grave.
The "Bloody" hour has passes and the crew turns to food and entertainment. A 'Rum Ration' is passed out to all by the half-orc Quartermaster, Cut-Throat Grok. She gives all the newest recruits a warning, "Drink up, Cap'n's orders. Don't get caught selling it, giving it away, or tipping it out or it's 6 lashes next bloody hour." The rum is staggeringly strong, usually watered down to created regular grog.
Drinking the Rum Ration induces a risk of it becoming a minor addiction and a DC 5 Fortitude save must be made to avoid the addiction. Every time it is consumed, the drinker also takes 1 point of constitution damage and gains a 1d4 alchemical bonus to Charisma for 1d8 hours.
One of the newer recruits makes her way over to you as you contemplate the rum ration requirement. It is the red-haired woman. "Stronger than you might be used to. Remember what Grok said, just don't get 'caught'." she said with a wink. "I saw them bring you aboard, the same was done to me only a day before you. A rough sort this crew, why before I was even here an hour that oaf Scourge was trying to put hands on me." She says with disgust. "I choose my own way and it won't be as someone else's 'possession'." She then lifts her Tricorne off her head an inch in a display of greeting. "Sandara Quinn's me name and if you're thinking the Captain and his officers are an outstanding lot then i'm a flying octopus. If you want to survive this place you'll need friends and allies." She looks at you all, wondering if you might doubt how sincere she is being. "Let me prove myself and gain your trust if you doubt me." From one of the pouches on her waist she produces a book and small pouch, Jacques recognises them as his spell book and component pouch! "When I convinced Grok last night that it would be bad luck to take away a priestess of Besmara's holy relic and possessions I managed to get this too. I couldn't convince her to release anything more unfortunately. If you want your things back, you'll have to barter for them somehow, or perhaps get on Grok's good side. If she has one." She returns Jacques spell book and spell component pouch to him and smiles.
The "Bloody" hour has passes and the crew turns to food and entertainment. A 'Rum Ration' is passed out to all by the half-orc Quartermaster, Cut-Throat Grok. She gives all the newest recruits a warning, "Drink up, Cap'n's orders. Don't get caught selling it, giving it away, or tipping it out or it's 6 lashes next bloody hour."
"Thank you, Quartermaster, Ma'am", Tobias takes the rum ration with a smile and drinks.
One of the newer recruits makes her way over to you as you contemplate the rum ration requirement. It is the red-haired woman. "Stronger than you might be used to. Remember what Grok said, just don't get 'caught'." she said with a wink. "I saw them bring you aboard, the same was done to me only a day before you. A rough sort this crew, why before I was even here an hour that oaf Scourge was trying to put hands on me." She says with disgust. "I choose my own way and it won't be as someone else's 'possession'." She then lifts her Tricorne off her head an inch in a display of greeting. "Sandara Quinn's me name and if you're thinking the Captain and his officers are an outstanding lot then I'm a flying octopus. If you want to survive this place you'll need friends and allies." She looks at you all, wondering if you might doubt how sincere she is being. "Let me prove myself and gain your trust if you doubt me." From one of the pouches on her waist she produces a book and small pouch, Jacques recognises them as his spell book and component pouch! "When I convinced Grok last night that it would be bad luck to take away a priestess of Besmara's holy relic and possessions I managed to get this too. I couldn't convince her to release anything more unfortunately. If you want your things back, you'll have to barter for them somehow, or perhaps get on Grok's good side. If she has one." She returns Jacques spell book and spell component pouch to him and smiles.Toby's face splits into a surprised grin. "That's very kind of you, Ms. Quinn. A cleric of Besmara, you say! I heard of you lot, but never met one before. I'm Tobias Wraithborn," the young man turns around to introduce the others. "This is Rosanne, the benefactor of your kindness here is Jacques, and our amazing climber is.." Tobias waits for the hairy brute to introduce himself.
”Cnut. Of clan Bjornsson. My people rule the seas far to the north, but I got tired of the cold, ja? I came south looking for adventure and warmer weather.” He looks around, smiles ruefully, and shrugs. ”I found it, if not quite what I was wanting.” Having apparently said his piece, he knocks back his run ration for the night.
Toby nods at the northern man. "Nice to meet you, ..Cnut. I hope I said that right?"
Jacques blinks. Kindness, beyond words, to bring me my spellbook and components. What is her game? Perhaps she has heard of Grandmother Lacrimoisi and wants to stay on my good side. He nods to her slowly, watching her, and accepts his possessions with only the briefest of glances around him to make sure no one is paying attention.
He examines the beverage.
He tries to subtly slip the skin into his pocket without drinking.
Rosanne studies the grog with a wrinkled nose. 'Can they do anything right on this fecking ship?' she thinks with scorn.
When no one is looking she tries to dump it over the side as she leans on the railing.
Cut-Throat Grok, while seemingly busy with others, notices Jacques and comes to speak to him. "Are you fond of the lash recruit? Luckily for you that ration in your pocket can still be drunk. Drink it in front of me now and I won't have to report you to Master Scourge for punishment." She waits to see if you will drink it.
Rosanne was not so lucky. She did not escape the notice of Master Scourge himself, who appeared next her after dumping her rum ration and speaks quietly. "Only your first day Swab. I thought you to be the smart one 'o them. Perhaps I was wrong. The bloody hour be over today, but tomorrow always comes. It would be a shame to mark that pretty skin of yours with the lash, but rules is rules." He seems to be in consideration about something and he has a sinister smile. "Perhaps I don't have to. I can see you are unused to this kind o' life. Perhaps if you would do a few favours for me, I can forget what I just saw you do. What d'ya say?" His smile is bigger and he claps a hand between your shoulder blades as if a friendly gesture.
Tobias looks on to the exchanges between Jacques with Grok and Rosanne with Scourge, helpless to affect any positive change.
Saddened, Tobias turn once again to the Besmaran cleric. "Um, Ms. Quinn. Earlier today, I had a nasty fall from the mast. If you got a knack for healing as other clerics do, I could sure use a blessing from Besmara, if you don't mind."