Carlosss nods at the request and heads for the nearest point of the rigging. Apparently his fellow press gangers, as it seems to be, are f$#&ing talkative after being kidnapped and beat to hell. He tries to climb as best he can. He is hungry, thirsty and has to piss something awful.
Just show competence and the ability to work hard. They should leave you alone after that.
Asami's muscles ripple as she launches herself up the rigging with a shocking amount of speed and grace. It takes her little more than half a minute to climb sixty feet; no one else even comes close.
"Alright, get down then," Plugg calls.
When everyone gets back to the deck, Sandara looks flushed. "That was... impressive," she says to Asami, then clears her throat and hurries off to return to her duties.
Plugg watches her go, then turns back to the party, a certain amount of acid now in his voice as he stares at Asami. "Great, yeah. Good job. I'll get to your job in a second. Don't move."
He turns to the remaining three and goes down the line with the same question for each of you: "Can you cook?"
Carlosss speaks up first, better to not give the impression he is a mute or dumb.
”I have cooked simple meals for myself a few times. Nothing for a group and not very tasty. But I am willing to try any task until I am decent at it.”
When everyone gets back to the deck, Sandara looks flushed. "That was... impressive," she says to Asami, then clears her throat and hurries off to return to her duties.
Asami's body glistens with sweat as the muscular woman grins down at the ship's cleric; before she can turn away completely, she flexes her pecs with an impressive bounce and a knowing grin.
Plugg watches her go, then turns back to the party, a certain amount of acid now in his voice as he stares at Asami. "Great, yeah. Good job. I'll get to your job in a second. Don't move."
"I'll just get comfortable, then."
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"No." Draxxie pouts.
If I'd known Sandara was going to get all lathered over a few muscles I might've made a race of it.
"I don't cook."
This man doesn't know an artist when he hears one! What's the next job, swabbing the decks? F*&$, he better not have me swabbing the decks!
Plugg considers the answers with a frown, clearly not terribly pleased with the lack of a resounding "yes," then points at the druid. "You. You look... uh... like fish. And fish eat each other so... Gods, whatever. Just get down to the galley and help Kroop. If he's not passed out drunk."
He ushers Oduim toward the stairs back down to the middle deck, where the party first woke up. "Easternmost door. You'll probably hear the old man before you see him. Smell him, too, for that matter."
He points at Draxxie and Carlos. "You two are swabs. Go report to Scourge." He points at Asami. "You. Come with me."
Asami snorts and follows along. She’s still glaring… but now with a sense of smug superiority right back on her face.
Carlosss looks over at Draxxie and shrugs, ”Somebody has to do it. At least we get to feel the sun and smell the sea air.
He heads over to his new duty with confidence looking forward to SOMETHING being normal.
|
Oduim follows the directions and sets out to find Kroop. He realizes that he is momentarily alone, but suspects he is being watched. Someone is just waiting for me to violate a rule. With his vision adapted for the deep sea, he easily traverses the hold and makes his way back toward the kitchen. This boat is big. It's gonna take time to explore it all. That means no rash decisions. He shakes his head as he thinks of the kidnapped he awoke alongside. I still can believe those others tried to fight their way out. What fools. Dangerous fools to be sure, but fools none the less.
He steps into the galley. "Kroop?"
"Swab? SWAB?! You're joking, right? You've heard me sing, and... ah, f#+~ it."
"Sea air, Snake. Sure. Take a deep breath."
I still wanna know who's got my hat.
"Let's find that lubber Scourge."
Plugg points up in the sails. You can see an absolutely foppish gnome in garish clothing clambering expertly along the mast. "You're on line work with Conchobar. Get up there and lower the mainsails so we can get underway."
Once up in the rigging, the foppish gnome stares unabashedly at you. "Good gods, you're a beast, aren't you..." He catches himself and shakes out his wide purple hat, capped with a large white feather. "Where on Golarion are my manners! That was dreadful rude, my apologies. I'm Conchobar Turlach Shortstone." He gives an elaborate bow--actually quite impressive, considering he's currently balancing on a foot-wide beam at the moment. "And who might you be, madame?"
Scourge says, "Hope ye gotcher feet under ya, snakeboy! Ye'll be runnin' messages fer tha officers!"
Before Carlos can begin his task in earnest, the redhead cleric saunters up with a cheerful smile. "Don't think we've officially been introduced. I'm Sandara Quinn. Nice to meet you. Just got press-ganged myself, two days ago. Thought I'd give you a little commiseratory gift." Making sure Scourge isn't looking, she slips a very familiar-looking kukri out of a hiding spot on her back, handing it to Carlos. "I was able to convince Grok to hand over a couple of items, including this. You should be fine sporting it, since Grok gave it over fair and square. Listen, you can't just demand your stuff back from the ship's stores. Far as Grok is concerned, it belongs to Captain Harrigan now. But here's a tip. I like the woman well enough, but she's, like, ridiculously superstitious. Give her some BS about your stuff being cursed and you might be able to persuade her to give at least some of it back. But you didn't hear that from me." She taps her nose and winks.
Scourge points to a pile of tattered sails and frayed rope. "Get ta splicin', lass, an' mendin' those sails. We gots a pile of 'em!"
As you start digging into your task, the young woman who healed you earlier saunters up with a friendly smile. "I don't think we had the chance to be formally introduced. I'm Sandara Quinn. Just got press-ganged myself two days ago, along with a couple others. I thought maybe I'd offer a commiseratory gift." She nods toward the hatch leading down to the lower decks, slipping a key into Draxxie's hand when Scourge isn't looking. "When you grab a hammock tonight, take the hammock in the port-most row, second from the back. This key opens the footlocker under it. Got a few items in there you might recognize. I know you probably want all your stuff back, but the quartermaster, Grok, isn't going to just give them up. Far as she's concerned, it all belongs to the captain now. I like her well enough, but she takes her job seriously. That doesn't mean it's hopeless though; she's wildly superstitious. Give her some hogwash about your items being cursed, or holy to Besmara, or whatever, and you might get some of your stuff back. Maybe not all of it, but worth a shot, right?" She shrugs and grins.
Before you make it down the hatch, the young redheaded woman approaches and touches your arm. "Hey, sorry to bother you. We didn't get properly introduced earlier. Name's Sandara Quinn. Look, I know waking up press-ganged isn't ideal--I was press-ganged too, just a couple days ago, with a few others. But not everyone on the ship's against you, yeah? Here, I even brought a little present. Call it an olive branch. Or in this case, a holly branch." She pulls from one of her belt pouches a familiar-looking sprig of magically preserved holly and mistletoe. "I managed to convince Grok, the quartermaster, it was a holy relic of Gozreh and keeping it would bring his wrath down on the ship." She snorts. "I know how important this is to druids. When I saw them take it off you last night after you were brought on board, I put two and two together. Just be careful casting spells on the ship, yeah? The officers get a little jumpy." She gives a friendly smile.
You head down to the middle decks and head to the sternmost door , which now stands open. Inside is a messy galley loaded with various crates, barrels, and sacks, some of which look eaten open at the bottom by rats. Two figures sit on barrels across from each other, laughing and chatting. One is a green-skinned half-orc woman with impressive tusks and a large, puckered scar across her neck. Her raven hair is shaved on the sides and pulled back into a neat ponytail.
Across from her is a portly man in a filthy apron, looking half-drunk as he sways on his barrel, laughing at some joke he apparently just told. His thick jowls are coated in a few days' stubble, his greasy hair is tucked messily under a chef's hat that was probably white in another life, and of all things, a chicken who looks even more drunk than he does sits on his shoulder. Its little birdy head rests heavily against the chef's hat as it lets out a little warble.
They turn to look at Oduim as he enters, and the big man throws his hands up, sloshing some rum out of his mug. "Ahoy! Ya must be me new cook's mate! I'm Ambrose, Ambrose Kroop. Er'buddy jes' calls me Fishguts. But uh" he squints at you momentarily "if'n that's an offensive term fer yer people, ye kin jes' call me Ambrose. S'fine too. An' this 'ere is our fine quartermaster, Miss Grok!"
"Just Grok," she grunts, eyeing you coolly. "Next time you got coin, come see me at the ship's stores. Might have something worthwhile for sale. Speaking of which," she adds, tilting her head back to polish off her mug before shoving it in Ambrose's direction, "gotta get back to it. Talk to you later, Fish. And try to stay sober long enough to show the new guy the ropes, yeah? Every time you pass out on the job and Plugg has to take over your duties, I'm the one who has to hear about it." She socks the man amicably on the shoulder before heading out.
Ambrose looks you over, then nods. "Okay, lad. Cap'n made a request fer leatherbacks. Ya ever hunted turtles b'fore? Nevermind, don't matter. Ye'll learn as we go."
Carlosss gives his understanding as to the task and moves off to get in position for the first order.
When intercepted he secures the Kukri tightly across his back, strapped across his shoulder and chest. He gives his first smile since he was knocked out last night, ”Thank you, that is the first kindness I have seen on this ship. My name is Carlossssss.” His snake tongue flickers an extra bit as the Vishkanya says his name in order to catch her scent. He continues, ”I didn’t even think there could be others like us. Is your kind of magic the only kind that doesn’t scare everyone?”
The job is not glamorous nor did he expect it to be. He spends his time working diligently to memorize all the necessary locations and the quickest routes between them.
Draxxie nods in thanks to Sandara and palms the key. "You were press-ganged? But ye're a priestess of Besmara! Surely you had a ship already? What happened? Ya think we'll run into yer old crew? Where're we sailin' for - Fever Sea right? Cap'n got a plan? S@*#, sorry, so many questions! All in yer own time. We ain't goin' anywhere.
Tell ya a bit about my ma 'nother time, Sandara. She's a priestess of the Pirate Queen, like ye are. I was born at sea, on her ship. Ha! I'll lay it on thick with Grok!"
Draxxie gets to work on the sails and rope. Could do this easy by magic. But I don't wanna look like a shirker - not today.
|
|
With a bit of hope rising in his chest, the undine makes his way sternward. He nods at the introductions. "I am Oduim." Is his reply. They don't seem to like much talking from their recent additions yet. Best to be brief. "Grok." Is all he says as the quartermaster...mistress? departs. He then turns his attention back to Kroop. "Uh...Fishguts is not offensive to my kind. We are not related to fish like the locathah or sahaugin." Oduim decides it would take too much effort to explain the differences between his kind with an elemental gift coursing through his veins. "Turtles are easy to catch." He looks at the netting Kroop starts to hang out of the porthole. "I find its easier to simply swim up to them."
Asami nods at the assignment; more climbing made plenty of sense.
She was up there again soon enough, moving just as quickly . She hoists herself up into the Crow's Nest; her mouth is held tight.
Conchobar doesn't even come up to her very impressive abs.
She looms over him, her golden eyes as reflective of the sun as the sea all around them.
"Asami," she says simply. "This isn't my first time on a boat."
She leans against some wood and looks down at the crew, considering finding the captain's head so she can spit on it from sixty feet up, but...
Well, maybe later.
"Ships in Minkai are a little different, but almost the same," she observes, looking over the rigging. "Shouldn't take me too long to get up to speed."
Conchobar looks a little green about the gills as Asami looms over him. She notes two things quite clearly about the gnome from his behavior: he was probably hitting on her (very badly), and he is now terrified of her. That may be for the best. Maybe next time he'll know better than to try anything.
"Very good!" he says with forced cheer. "You clearly are an old hand at this! I'll just be. Um. Over here." He moves away from Asami to work on the rigging across the beam from her.
The work is laborious, and Asami is soaked in sweat from the heat of the spring sun on her face, but Conchobar wasn't wrong--she's done this kind of work before. She makes sure to take water breaks throughout the day and stay hydrated--especially important for the riggers who work up to sixty feet off the ground--and she comes down tired but not exhausted as the sun begins to set.
Sandara laughs. "Well met, Carlos! Admittedly, it's a pirate ship. Playing your cards close to the vest is second nature to these sea dogs. But I figure, it might not hurt to have friends aboard, especially when starting out."
When he asks about her magic, she shakes her head. "Oh, I dunno if you noticed, but there were a few that didn't like me casting my spells, never mind that the Pirate Queen Herself grants them to me. Magic is magic to some of the thicker heads. Long as you don't light the sails on fire though, or cast magic at anybody, you should be fine. Or at least, if you do cast it at someone, don't get caught." She winks again. "I'd best get to my duties. Plus I have a few others to talk to. We should speak again soon! I haven't met many sorcerers, I'd love to talk shop." With that, she saunters off to do her work.
Sandara's brows raise slightly. "There's not many as follow Her divine path. Most are content to give Her lip service, maybe even follow the Pirate's Code. When it suits them, of course." She snorts a mirthless laugh. "I'll try to answer your questions as best I can."
She ticks off her forefinger. "First, you're right. We're sailing south-by-southwest, which should put us on track to enter the Fever Sea in the next week or so. Maybe two? Depends on weather."
She ticks off a second finger. "Second, I haven't got a full bead on the captain yet, but from first impressions, his huge build belies a cunning mind. I think he's a shifty prig and has a plan of some sort, but I bet bullion to bilgewater he's shared it with precisely zero people, not even his officers."
She ticks a third finger. "Finally, I don't think we'll be running into my old crew. They're dead. Storm hit us off the coast near Bloodcove a couple months back. Lost all hands but me. Probably my prayers to Besmara that saved me! Anyway, wound up in Port Peril, just like you. Press-ganged a couple days ago. We hadn't gone far when Harrigan decided to nip back and do the whole dog and pony show again to pick up some more, fill out his crew." She shrugs. "And there you have it."
She pats Draxxie on the back. "I've been gabbing away and here I am not doing my duties! I better get back to it. We'll talk more soon." She saunters off to do... whatever it is she's off to do.
Draxxie attempts to chat up an older woman with mocha-colored skin, her gunmetal gray hair cropped close with lines shaved into the sides. At first her reception to the skald is icy, but upon complementing her stripes, the woman snorts. "Aye. It is why they call me 'Badger.' That, and I can be quite ornery." She cocks her head, pausing her mopping for a moment to watch Draxxie's deft fingers work. "You have done this before. I take it this is not your first ship. Probably not even the first you have started a brawl on, yes?" Their face is stern, but there's a playful gleam in their bright brown eyes.
Sandara smiles and nods. "Of course, always something needs doing on a ship. We'll talk later. Good luck, Oduim!" She tips her tricorne hat to him, winks, and saunters off on whatever other errands she has today.
When Oduim returns to deck with almost a dozen leatherbacks either skewered or in his net, Kroop raises his eyebrows. "Not bad at all, Master Ira! I think ye'll settle inta this job right well, y'will! Come, let's get these prepped fer tonight's dinner."
He guides Oduim through the process of splitting open the turtles and dressing them for the appropriate meats. Though still half-sauced, he's surprisingly good about using as much of the animals as possible, even scraping the shells clean and setting them out to cure. "Know a lass in Port Peril makes magical shields outta these!" he says with a tap of his greasy nose. "Might get a few silver for 'em, aye?"
As the sun sets on the western horizon, the First Mate's voice booms across the upper decks: [larger]"All hands on deck! All hands to witness!"[/larger]
Everyone finishes up their tasks and moves to the main deck, even a new face: a young woman in her mid- to late teens with mousy hair and an anxious demeanor (you soon learn she's the cabin girl, Caulky Tarroon). Once the entire crew is gathered on the main deck, Mr. Plugg and Master Scourge use a winch and pulley to lower the cage holding the half-crazed, terrified Jakes Magpie. They pull him out of the cage, holding fast to his arms as he squirms and writhes, screaming and crying "Mercy! Mercy! Mercyyy!" Neither Plugg nor Scourge have anything even remotely resembling mercy on their faces.
Harrigan pipes up. "Some o' ya have been on me crew fer a good spell now. Some o' ya are new. All o' ya'r 'bout ta see what happens when ya steal from me." He nods to Plugg and Scourge. They call over a couple extra hands, both of whom joined in the fight this morning: a tall, lanky woman who you've learned goes by the name "Kipper," and a heavyset, shirtless man covered in tattoos whose girth belies a fair amount of muscle named Fipps Chumlett. They help Plugg and Scourge to secure a great length of rope to Jakes, binding his hands on one end and his legs on the other. They toss the weighted center of the rope over the bow and loop the rope all the way under the ship. The rope is feeding through a winch and lever, starting at his bound hands.
Scourge uses the winch to slowly pull Jakes over the side of the ship, the man screaming and ranting, passing interchangeably between terrified pleas for mercy and frothing, rageful curses at his tormentors. Scourge doesn't ignore his cries; in fact, the man seems to be invigorated by every scream, every hateful curse spat at him. Suddenly the screams stop as Jakes pauses to take a deep breath, then he vanishes into the water.
Scourge seems to relish each slow turn of the crank as Jakes makes an agonizingly plodding journey across the underside of the ship, where a veritable minefield of sharp barnacles awaits him. Each turn of the crank is met by momentary resistance, and Scourge yanks on the handle to pull Jakes free of whatever has held him up. It feels like an hour or more passes before the turns of the crank stop meeting any resistance, though in reality no more than a minute or two has passed.
What finally arrives on the other side of the ship can no longer be recognized as Jakes Magpie. Half his face has been shorn away, a ragged hole exposing his brain cavity; it is mostly empty now. His entire left side is vastly more damaged than his right, with his flesh almost completely gone--just a few ragged strips remain on his shoulder and inner thigh. The meat is exposed and in uneven ribbons, and his stomach has torn open, though the cavity is mostly empty; his intestines are likely caught on the many barnacle clusters on the keel of the ship.
This is no longer a person. It is meat.
After untying him from the ropes, Fipps and Kipper toss the remains of Jakes Magpie unceremoniously into the water for the sharks to devour.
"Jakes been with me fer over a year," Harrigan calls. "Don't think time in me crew will save ya from the consequences o' theft. Dismissed."
Some of the other crewmates look somber or even shaken by the display, but many of them go about their business as if nothing at all has happened. Bowls of turtle soup are handed out among the crew by Fishguts and Oduim, and the crew digs into a hearty meal. Each member of the crew is also given a rum ration.
The sun sets fully, lanterns are lit, and pirates begin to unwind after a hard day's work.
S~#~ has just become real. Carlosss actually was feeling pretty good about himself during the day. The ship ran like a normal merchant vessel. The craziness from the morning seemed like an aberration more than anything. Avoid messing with the people in power, do your job, you'll get some respect.
But after that. F~+#'N'HELL!!! A horrible gruesome execution as penalty for theft? S!*%!!! He's seen hangings. He's seen decapitations. He's even seen people stoned to death, and he thought that was rough to watch. But F&~$, the dude just came back in pieces.
One thought is all that Carlosss is holding onto as he leaves, I just need to find someone to hold me tonight. Someone who won't judge if I cry.
"A keelhaulin', Snake. Happened a couple o' times on my Ma's ship, but she never made me watch. If Magpie had been smart he'd a taken a good lungful of seawater, 'stead o' holdin' his breath. Hell, if he'd been smart he wouldn'a stole from Cap'n Harrigan."
Draxxie takes her rum ration, and settles in for the games. Wanting to size up the crew on the first night, and lacking any coin to gamble with, she starts up a song.
"I set to sea as a country lass
To make a dream come true
A full-blown wind took her hard astern
That blew from timbuktu
We went down like an anchor chain
I thought that we would drown
Swam belly up and cry like hell
Well ya can't hold a good man down!
I rode like billy-o
Made the scilly isles
Ended up in the Rose and Crown
Drank the night away
Seems like yesterday
When we went down
Now were!
Way-yo!
Can't blow the man down!
Way-yo!
Can't blow the man down!
Hey-yo!
Can't hold the man
Hold the man
Down
Boys!
Hold this man down!
T'was devils torment, tack and rum
That kept the fear at bay
But a navy sail on the starboard bow
Was getting in our way
Our broadside rained like a fire from hell
We made the beggars pay
But we did not see the giant wave
That took our keel away
So in the drink we go
Sink or swimmy - oh
Davey jones tried to take us down
Wreckage drift away
Soggy castaway
Runnin' the-ground
Now were!
Way-yo!
Can't blow the man down!
Way-yo!
Can't blow the man down!
Hey-yo!
Can't hold the man
Hold the man
Down
Boys!
Hold this man down!
I landed on a desert isle
And stowed aboard the sail
Made a life as a cabin lass
Until we hit the whale!
Way-yo!
Can't blow the man down!
Way-yo!
Can't blow the man down!
Hey-yo!
Can't hold the man
Hold the man
Down
Boys!
Hold this man down!"
Asami watches in silence.
It isn't her first time seeing someone die horribly.
Hell, she'd been in Fipps and Kipper's position a few times.
When it's finally over, she speaks up:
"Glad I didn't get stuck on hull-cleaning duty. Looks like a rough job."
Carlosss accepts his rum ration and bowl of soup, then looks around for a place to sit down. He's starting to pick up the names of people, though really he has only met one friendly face so far. He glances around for her.
|
|
Oduim watches the keelhauling with surprising interest. The cowards who murdered my father deserve something like this! As the others look away, he studies the body, fascinated by the seaborn justice.
After that, it was back to work. He assists Fishguts to serve up the stew. He makes certain that Sandara and Grok get a little extra meat in their bowl. When the line finally ends, he takes his bowl and follows the chef as he finds a place to sit. The undine is happily surprised at the flavorful meal. While not a fan of the rum, Oduim slowly nurses it until he drains the cup.
He looks for Sandara about the galley but decides to continue building a relationship with the chef.
A few of the crew join in Draxxie's chorus, including her new friend, Badger, but it isn't quite the rousing tide of voices she'd hoped for. The rum seemed to help, at least, and nobody boos her off, so she supposes that must count as a win.
Oduim chats up his new "boss," and Fishguts is surprisingly good company. The undine discovers he has an extensive knowledge of not only edible marine life, but also of the geography of the Shackles. "We be passin' Dahak's Teeth in a couple days, assumin' our present course continues, mind. Nobody goes near 'em, o' course. Them's the realm of Aashaq, the Dragon Priestess. Red dragon o' Dahak. Only thing worse'n a dragon is a dragon with divine power, aye?" He snorts. " 'Cept maybe us humans," he adds quietly. "All these monsters as walk the world, an' I think mebbe we're the worst o' the lot."
He stares into his empty rum mug for several long, somber moments before finally looking up at Oduim, squinting, and mumbling, "Yer a good liss'ner, lad."
Carlos finds the cleric sitting near the rail, staring out at the water, hair draped in a mess of red locks around her face. Her tricorne rests under her arms, which lay over her drawn-up knees. She startles at the sorcerer's approach.
When you startle her, she quickly wipes her eyes.
She draws up her hair and quickly stuffs it under her tricorne before snatching up her mug of rum sitting next to her and raising it at Carlos's approach. "Hell of a first day, eh? A brawl, a hard day's work, and a brutal killing. Auspicious start to your seaborne career, I'd wager."
As the ship makes the swift transition from a working ship to a party boat, Asami looks out over the waves.
...Don't know beer from piss out here. Let's see how this shakes out.
She turns, and sees some pirates playing their piratey games.
One lets out a throaty shout as his forearm is pushed down, into the sharp debris on his side of the barrel.
"Hm."
As the pirate gets up off his seat and stumbles off, nursing his arm, she drops her behind onto the stool to replace him.
Her gaze is intense, but her intention is clear as she puts her elbow down, hand up.
"Ganbatte."
Carlosss's technique of sipping his rum ration with his meal managed to deaden the properties a bit.
He wanders around until he sees Sandara gazing over the edge of the ship.
He chooses not to say anything and allows her to wipe the tears away and regain her composure. The booze in his system is helping him calm down a bit. It also makes his tongue feel heavy so his words slip out slightly slurred, "Yeah. Hell of a day. The hard work wass fine, the resst... not sso much."
He looks out over the waves, "The ssea doessn't sseem to care though, but at leasst it is nice to look at ssometimes. Makess all we go through sseem a lot lesss important."
He sits there for a minute just watching the waves. Then something pops into his mind, "Oh f!@*. I'm sorry. I usually don't blather on about s@$! like that. If I'm bothering you, I'll shut up. Just didn't want to be alone, really. But I'll leave if you want your privacy."
The pirate across from Asami is one of the crew she has yet to meet, an almost impossibly tall Mwangi man with long arms and lean, corded muscle. He watches the tiefling sit across from him, as if studying her, then grasps hands. Someone spills down a fresh layer of caltrops.
When she speaks in Minkaian, he tilts his head slightly, then nods. It's hard to say whether he actually understood the statement or was simply gathering its meaning from context clues.
The struggle between the two is impressive; both arms creep toward the caltrops and back again, once, twice... Asami's powerful muscles against her opponent's slight leverage. But eventually, leverage seems to beat out--but only barely. He finally slams Asami's arm into the barrel; several caltrops stab into her flesh, but thankfully the wounds appear to be mostly superficial, though they bleed like crazy.
The pirates around them erupt, some laughing and jeering, others stamping their feet in frustration, as money changes hands. More than half the gathered crew bet on the beefcake woman to overturn the current champ, but it looks like it wasn't in the cards today.
After, the Mwangi man nods at Asami and says, "Umai ne."
---
Sandara looks out over the water and nods. "I understand not wanting to be alone. I haven't much bonded with the folks I got press-ganged with. Conchobar won't stop hitting on me, and Cog's such a downer. I like Rosie well enough, but she, uh..." She trails off, glancing off near the bow of the ship.
A halfling woman with nut-brown hair and muscular arms is trying to tune a fiddle, ostensibly to make some music alongside Draxxie's next song.
Her efforts are partly stymied, albeit unconsciously, by the foppish gnome in the garish feathered purple hat and doublet, who is practically looming over her. He may as well have hearts for eyes, he's so clearly smitten.
"Are you going to play us a tune, my pet? Your fiddling is positively angelic."
"Gonna be hard to play my fiddle with my bow shoved up your ass," she snaps, waving the fiddle bow threateningly.
"Rosie, my dear woman, you have such a mouth on you!" Conchobar says with a look that is equal parts scandalized and awestruck.
"If you don't back off, I'll use this mouth to eat that stupid f#~+ing hat," she retorts.
Conchobar takes it in stride, but he does step back. "Your words wound me," he sighs wistfully, "but does not love hurt?"
"I'll f@&@ing hurt you, alright," Rosie grumbles as she goes back to tuning her fiddle.
Sandara turns back to Carlosss with a lopsided grin. "And now you see why they call her 'Cusswell,' eh?" She laughs, and it brightens her face. "I dunno. Maybe I should give them another chance. Out here on the sea, we don't get much in the way of family or friends. Gotta take what you can get, yeah? What about you, friend? Any family back on land?"
---
Scourge and Plugg begin making the rounds, making sure everyone is drinking their rum rations. Scourge has a length of rope, which he occasionally swats people with and snaps, "C'mon, drink up! Ye can play wit' yerselves after yer rations."
Happy that he wasn't being an ass Carlosss replies casually, "Naw, nothing like that. Never knew my family or clan or anything. Orphaned, raised in a temple. Not an ideal childhood either so I'm not exactly looking back fondly."
"So I'd honestly love to chat for a bit, but I think I can do better than that for you. Let me see if I can make my actions mean more than words. Make your move if you want, but even if not I'll at least help one person not be annoyed."
With that, he moves off to play impromptu wing man snake and distract Conchobar from his annoying attempts at conquest. Moving up to the gnome he smiles big, "Ah the mighty Conchobar, I've heard great thingss about your pirating skillss. Tell me, wass it all Bullsshit or real?"
Asami's pointed teeth clench as she leans, but the Mwangi man is her better, this time. She wipes anything that stuck to her off with her bare hand and grins; her forearm has a thin coating of blood all along it, at this point.
"Omedetou," she says, "Jikai wa kachimasu."
She thuds onto a seat, letting the blood run where it will, and happily takes the glass when it's offered. She quickly tosses the first half of it back, swallowing loudly.
When Scourge comes around, she grins. "Let a girl keep her traditions. One gulp at sundown, the second for before bed. Helps keep the sleep even."
The Mwangi man chuckles. "Sōda to ī. Subete no baransu o torimasu."
---
Scourge snarls at Asami, "I don't give a blessed damn 'bout yer traditions, woman, drink yer ration or I'll have ye against the mainmast fer lashings." He is now watching the brawler carefully, hand on his whip.
---
______________________
Once he has the annoyance pulled to the side Carlosss leans in conspiratorially, "Hey listen, I am truly interested in hearing your stories. But I really just wanted to give a bit of advice about Rosie. I can tell she is the type that really likes a partner to play hard to get. You know what I mean? You act all aloof and standoffish, you are gonna have a lot better chance. So let's pull that and go make her jealous."
Maybe I can befriend this dude and keep him and Rosie out of trouble? And maybe he ain't such a bad guy, just isn't able to read the cues being given off by the people he likes. Ain't nothing wrong with that, just needs a great wingsnake.
Draxxie sticks around to see if the halfling fiddler can play any, and watches Carlosss at work. Sociable Snake. And a temper on him too judging by this morning. I think I like him.
Draxxie hammers out another couple of verses of Friggin' in the Riggin' to Cusswell's accompaniment before sloping off to claim the bunk that she was directed to earlier. Once there, she removes the key and opens the locker.
Though at first he looks excessively irritated at Carlos's approach, as if the sorcerer's presence is somehow cramping his style (as if he wasn't doing a spectacular job of that on his own), Conchobar's eyes widen at the sorcerer's advice. "By jove, I think you're onto something, my good man!" he whispers back, inadvertently plenty loud enough for Rosie to hear. "What a devilishly clever plan. I shall do as you say. Thank you!"
To Rosie, he raises his nose and says disdainfully, "Well. I shall retire for the night. It's getting rather droll up here, I think. I'm off to my hammock." He completely fails to sell it, however, when he glances hopefully at Rosie before turning away. The halfling doesn't even seem to notice he's spoken. Crestfallen, the gnome slouches off to bed.
Nearby, Sandara watches the proceedings with her smile hidden behind her hand.
---
Draxxie finds that Rosie is no slouch at her fiddle, though she ends up having to tune it so much from the damp air that she barely gets to play with the skald. While she doesn't know all the shanties Draxxie does, she seems to be quite a fast learner.
When she heads to bed she finds the mentioned hammock unattended. When she checks the footlocker, Draxxie finds a very familiar cutlass, as well as her bandolier (though the alchemist's fire it had held is unfortunately missing).
Carlosss gives an excessively over the top bow towards Sandara and then heads to look for his sleeping arrangements.
If nothing unusual occurs, he finds himself attempting to shut his brain down while listening to the shouts from the galley as most celebrate not being dead for another day. Eventually the creaking of the ship and snapping of the wind in the sails help him drift off into a restful sleep. Situation notwithstanding, sleeping on a ship afloat on the ocean has never been hard for him.
Asami shrugs and downs the rest of the ration.
"It's bad luck," she says simply, "but have it your way."
"Worse luck ta talk back ta the bosun," he growls. "Best ta remember that, beastie." He stalks off, two of his cronies in tow (Kipper and Fipps, if Asami recalls their names correctly) who leer at the brawler before falling in behind their leader.
Chugging rum hits Asami hard, and she sways a little, but keeps it down just fine in the end.
The newest members of the Wormwood's crew finally collapse into their hammocks after a long first day. A scrap, a hard day's work, a brutal keelhauling, and an eventful night have left the group ready for a good night's sleep.
Dawn comes, and in the dimness of the lower decks, only the thinnest filaments of light from the decks above manages to filter down, but your bodies are well aware of the time. All around them, their crewmates crawl out of their hammocks and wipe the sleep from their eyes or sneak flasks out to take a nip of the hair of the dog that bit them. Someone lights a lantern, offering some meager light near the narrow stairwell heading up to the middle decks.
Not long after you wake and perform your morning rituals--meditations or prayers for the spellcasters, mainly--a bell tolls on the main deck, summoning the crew to their duties. Pirates hustle toward the stairwell, not wanting lashes for being late to their jobs. The party heads toward the stairs to join them.
However, they're met by four unfortunately familiar faces: Aretta Bansion, Fipps Chumlett, Jaundiced Jape, and Slippery Sy Lonegan. Fipps, the biggest of the four, looms over Draxxie, poking a thick finger into her collarbone. "Wut, in a hurry?" he sneers, and all four of them laugh derisively. "I think ye need ta be taught some manners after we tried ta welcome you on board an ya started punchin'." He cracks his knuckles.
None of them are wielding weapons, but all of them look ready for a fight. If you don't get past these guys quickly, you just know Scourge will happily take it out of your hide with his whip.
[color=green]ROUND 1
Characters in BOLD may act.
Draxxie (10/10 hp)
Fipps Chumlett (0 dmg)
Jaundiced Jape (0 dmg)
Asami (13/13 hp)
Carlosss (9/9 hp)
Oduim (10/10 hp)
Aretta Bansion (0 dmg)
Slippery Sy Lonegan (0 dmg)
[/color]
"Fipps, ya dumb lubber" Draxxie spits "ya lookin' for Scourge's lash on ya back? Or somethin' worse? Cos I weren't fightin' yesterday. But I got somethin' special for ya t'day."
Draxxie draws her cutlass and waves it menacingly, then unleashes her innate magic on Fipps.
The magic washes over Fipps, but he doesn't flee. His fingers tremble but he raises a finger to point directly at Draxxie. "Scourge jes' wanted us ta hold you up, but you jes' casted magic. It'll be so much more fun watchin' the cap'n slit yer throat. Let's go."
The big man disengages and hurries up the stairs. Jape follows quickly after him, a sneering grin on his face.
[color=green]ROUND 1
Characters in BOLD may act.
Draxxie (10/10 hp)
Fipps Chumlett (0 dmg, shaken 1 round)
Jaundiced Jape (0 dmg)
Asami (13/13 hp)
Carlosss (9/9 hp)
Oduim (10/10 hp)
Aretta Bansion (0 dmg)
Slippery Sy Lonegan (0 dmg)
[/color]
Asami groans.
"I believe I was promised a brawl, Fipps," she says, hustling after the fleeing coward.
She reaches out, hoping to smack his head against the railing.
...Non-lethally, of course.
Carlosss looks at the pirate that has somehow managed to be immediately next to him, "Listen bud, I ain't part of this at all. I'm just going to head out and not get involved. I know the rules, I ain't gonna cast nothing or even bite ya. So I STRONGLY suggest you don't mess with me."
As he gets up the stairs he quickly adds, "Woah! Just passing through getting the hell outta dodge."
Asami catches up to the slow-moving half-orc and slams his skull against the bulkhead in an effort to knock him out, but the pallid-skinned man is a little too burly to be taken down so easily. Nonetheless he looks slightly panicked to have the brawler up in his grill.
Sy looks freaked out by the snake man, but also doesn't seem to believe you. "Y-yer messin' with my head! I was told ta knock you 'round a bit, an' that's what I'll do!" He socks the sorcerer on the side of the head as he slides past, but his shaky hands don't connect as solidly as they might have.
[color=green]ROUND 1
Characters in BOLD may act.
Draxxie (10/10 hp)
Fipps Chumlett (0 dmg, shaken 1 rd)
Jaundiced Jape (0 dmg, 8 NL)
Asami (13/13 hp)
Carlosss (9/9 hp)
Oduim (10/10 hp)
Aretta Bansion (0 dmg)
Slippery Sy Lonegan (0 dmg, shaken 2 rds)
[/color]
Oduim hustles up the stairs and around the two hostile pirates, who reach out to try and grab the undine and slow him down, but Oduim easily ducks their grasping fingers and moves ahead. Nearby, the cabin girl, Caulky Tarroon, yelps and cringes away from the moving tussle nearby.
Down belowdecks, Aretta and Sy look up the stairs uncertainly, then shrug at each other. They still have time before they're considered late, and apparently decide they might as well have some fun before they do. Aretta moves into a flank, and she and Sy both take swings at Draxxie. The pincer move is exceptionally effective, both of them clobbering her first on her right temple, then in the spleen.
[color=green]ROUND 2
Characters in BOLD may act.
Draxxie (10/10 hp, 5 NL)
Fipps Chumlett (0 dmg, shaken 1 rd)
Jaundiced Jape (0 dmg, 8 NL)
Asami (13/13 hp)
Carlosss (9/9 hp, 2 NL)
Oduim (10/10 hp)
Aretta Bansion (0 dmg)
Slippery Sy Lonegan (0 dmg, shaken 2 rds)
[/color]
Draxxie defends herself...
"Besmara's Holy T$$@! I'd love to stay and cut ya livers out, but these bruises ya've given me are gonna earn ya the lash an' I'll take greater pleasure in watchin' that!"
Draxxie withdraws, dashing up the stairs and racing for the main deck.
"Fipps, you are so dumb! What'd Cap'n say about raising ya hands to a crewmate, eh? I'll see ya flogged, lubber!"
Having drawn steel--and used it--against her, Aretta's eyes bulge and she goes for her own cutlass. "Cut me?! I'll f**@ing cut you!!"
"Hey up there! Dumb b&**~ Aretta thinks she can disobey Cap'n Harrigan's orders!"
Fipps no longer looks shaken by Draxxie's spell. In fact, he looks absolutely elated. He calls back, "You idjit! You think the cap'n's gonna give a f~*% about that after I tell 'im ye used magic?! Hells, I'll take the lashes jes' ta watch you bleed out!" With that, he shoves past Oduim and rushes up the stairs, disappearing from sight. You can hear him shouting "Cap'n! Git tha cap'n!" like the ship's on fire. You think he might have actually cackled as he yelled it.
Jape pauses a moment, considers trying to hold back Asami, then thinks better of it and scampers off after Fipps.
Meanwhile, the cabin girl continues to yelp and cower in a corner as the pirates run past.
[color=green]ROUND 2
Characters in BOLD may act.
Draxxie (10/10 hp, 5 NL)
Fipps Chumlett (0 dmg)
Jaundiced Jape (0 dmg, 8 NL)
Asami (13/13 hp)
Carlosss (9/9 hp)
Oduim (10/10 hp)
Aretta Bansion (0 dmg)
Slippery Sy Lonegan (0 dmg, shaken 1 rd)
[/color]
Asami chuckles, her rapid footsteps breaking down to a jog and then ambling down to a stop.
”Cravens,” she spits, leaning against the railing and keeping an eye on both sets of stairs. ”Picking a fight and running to tell your dad when it doesn’t go your way? Pathetic.”