Syl stopped walking as Mateo moved in front of her and narrowed her eyes briefly, then the ever-present crazed smile returned. She looked him up and down and chuckled with a stuttering, throaty laugh. ”Oh I don’t know…men don’t tend to survive celebrating with me. I’m not sure you’d be up for it.”
Arriving at the side of the woman who had casted magic during the battle, Mateo let the gnome take the lead as he watched their collective backs. He listened in for a moment, clearing his throat after the initial introductions are made.
"My name is Mateo. A pleasure...as much as the situation can be called that." The man says with a mirthless little chuckle. He claps Lanni gently on the back, nodding softly. "That would be a good thing. Keep the souls at rest." The large man and the other woman he had seen cast magic approached soon after, his head dipping politely in greeting. "Greetings. I'm Mateo. I see I was fortunate to have been on my side of the ship when you all stormed on board." His voice was without scorn in it or judgement, even with the vicious melting of a man's face and the cleaving of another nearly in twain. There is a look that quickly crosses Mateo's face when he hears that Atia is nobility before it disappears a moment later.
Atia looks a tad uncomfortable at Mateo’s approach, the violence from earlier still occasionally flashing behind her eyelids when she blinked. She leans slightly against the large barbarian and offers her own polite nod in return. ”Atia,” She replies, and gestures to Joran. ”He’s Joran. I, ah, saw that you met Syl earlier...” She subtly indicates the bloodthirsty woman he had fought with earlier. ”Good luck with that.” She stares at him for a moment and opens her mouth to speak again, then decides against whatever she had been about to say with a shrug.
"If it makes you feel better, I have a feeling most of us will have plenty of time to forget what happened. Most likely with alcohol." The oracle added. "At least Joran seems to be having a knack at the pirate life."
”Not sure I’m feeling like heavily indulging right now, but there are other ways to forget.” Atia doesn’t elaborate, but she glances up at Joran at the mention of his knack for piracy and decides not to speak for him in that regard.
I doubt that we will be squibbing her right away. We will be sailing her to a location that will squib her for us.
This is what was given to me to give to everyone that survived the boarding as a well done
As for the potions, hold them for right now. I trust you to determine who they will best go to when we are aboard the promise.
"See! There it is again! Your words are saying that you'll kill me but your eyes are saying that you'll kill me slowly." Mateo says with a grin, still walking backwards to keep his eye on her. "I have to say, I can't help myself. Most of the crew looks at you fearfully, hatefully, or a combination of both. Which means that no one has the balls, literally or metaphorically, to take you up on that."
Mateo would then stop, letting her run into him if she didn't catch herself in time. His smile stayed there all the same as he took his hat off and stared down at her.
"I'm the Blue-Eyed Devil of Ostento and for all chances and likelihoods, I should be dead already. So why not...maybe you're scared that you may even end up liking me." He twirls about her then, moving with grace as he steps away. "Perhaps I'll see you tonight. Perhaps I won't." The swashbuckler says, stepping away.
As he steps away, he comes across the rather rotund yet strong man with a bit of bandaging upon his shoulder. The memory of his crossbow comes to mind and he tips his hat to the man.
"Ah, you must be the fellow I shot on the approach! Seeing as we're comrades now, I do hope you will accept my apology. You know...trying to kill each other and whatnot. It was rather tactical letting the mad girl with the knives go first. I think it is turning out well for me and turned out well for you!" Mateo says with a wide smile as he places his hat back upon his head, looking at Fipps and his small gang of associates.
"That's understandable," Des replied before smiling. "Just don't keep yourself holed up. This may be our happiest time on this ship. Be sure to enjoy yourself every once in a while."
She patted Joran on the shoulder before leaving.. and walked into whatever Mateo and Syl was imagining with their minds. She started to talk in protest, then she decided to say something else. "You should probably want to know... that woman almost gouged my eye out." That was all she said before she quickly ducked out of the way.
Love looks like it's blossoming all over the place. Speaking of which, it was finally time to catch up with Sandara.
When Destinie brings up that she had almost had her eye gouged out by Syl, Mateo nods slightly.
"Oh, that makes perfect sense. She's crazy. Luckily, another man beat her to it for me and your eye still appears safe. So...that situation resolved well, I hope?" Mateo says as he leaves Syl behind in whatever state of mind she would be in.
Syl stopped just before crashing into him, and didn't say a word. She just looked at him from under her brows and held her grin, running the tip of her tongue over her upper teeth, and watched him walk away, ignoring Des completely.
Fipps looked at Mateo with annoyance, and Mateo could see the gears turning to unpack his words. This one was about as smart as he looked. "Yeah...real tactical. Shame she didn't finish the job." He grinned, proud of himself, a couple of his fellows chuckling. "Oh an uh...apology not accepted." He added snidely.
Des found Sandara sitting on a crate near the mainmast, watching the goings-on across the deck. "That went about as well as it could have," she remarked. She patted a spot beside her for Des to join her.
Mateo watched for a bit as the man struggled to unpack the words he had said. Mateo nodded for a moment, laughing along with his fellows for a few moments. He laughed a little more, shaking his head a little.
"That's funny, I'm not sure you even know what tactical means...you know...being an idiot and all." The sparring words would be followed by him brushing his cloak back, the hilt of the rapier catching the light. "Now, let's not be hasty. We're all crewmates right? I'd hate for any of you to end up like the halfling. Your hearts are much easier to strike than his was." Mateo's face, while friendly, did not match the lower tone that he had dropped to. The threat was clear; mess with me and I'll kill you too.
"Maybe join Terry's class? Learn not to get shot." Mateo offered, a friendly tone inflecting his words once more. He would tip his hat and mosey along.
Des found Sandara sitting on a crate near the mainmast, watching the goings-on across the deck. "That went about as well as it could have," she remarked. She patted a spot beside her for Des to join her.
The oracle made herself comfortable next to the cleric and joined in the watch. "No losses on our part and only a few on their side. Still wish it hadn't come to that," she admitted. She leaned her head at the other woman's shoulder as she got closer.
"Other than that... it actually felt pretty thrilling. I've heard of all sorts of tales in Riddleport, but that's nothing like experiencing it in real life."
As the captain comes out with a man's heart in his hand, You'll pay for that, Harrigan. You're going to pay for a lot before it's all said and done. I promise you that.
With the battle ending as quickly as it started, Joran sheathes his blade and looks to Atia, noticing she doesn't appear hurt. Although, he does notice she appears to be disturbed about something and furrows his brow because of it. Will have to ask about that.
With that, she left the dwarf's side, and sought out Atia. "How are you holding up? That happened out there... it was pretty harrowing." she folded up her own arms in comfort.
"Well, I didn't realize a man was retreating and melted his entire face off," Atia says flatly, her face drawn in a frown. "But I didn't get hurt, at least. How about you?"
Joran listens in quietly as Atia responds. Ah, so that's what it is. I see now. He places a comforting hand on her back.
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"Hello, I'm Lanni. Former Cleric of the Man's Promise."
To Joran: "You are rather intimidating in battle."
To Atia: "That is some pretty impressive magic you have. But you seem to be as terrified as I feel. What brings you to this pirate ship?"
Grinning and not really knowing how to respond to that, "Um, thanks." He shrugs. "A cleric, huh? Never can have too many of those. I know I just cut your officer practically in two - sorry about that by the way and I sure hope he wasn't a friend - but if you've got any extra healing in there, I could use a bit. A couple of those bolts tore me up pretty good. But it's no problem if not. I know you guys are 'limited' or something like that. I don't really know how all that works."
Atia peers at the gnome searchingly and then just sighs and shrugs. "Um, thank you. About the magic." She glances up at Joran, then back to Lanni. "Well, I was drugged in a tavern and then woke up on the ship... so, happenstance brings me to this pirate ship, I suppose you could say?" She opens her mouth to ask Lanni the same question, but realizes it would be a stupid one, and just shrugs.
Not sure if he's asking him the same question or not but Joran looks down at Atia and shrugs before simply responding to the gnome with, "Same here."
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Make sure they are ready, and know their place. Aye. Aye
With that, he takes the sack that was given along with everything else and makes his way back to the wormwood.
Terry, Sharkbait, Destinie, Cassandra, Atia, Lanni, Mateo, Sandara front and centre.
He will then pass out the shares that were given to them.
Sharkbait, I think you will need this more than I He passes over the amulet. It apparently has protective magics in it.
Now be ready to move over to the promise. We are the prize crew for her to go get squibbed.
Accepting the amulet, Joran nods. "Thanks, 'Dreamer. And you got it, skipper. I'll be ready."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Arriving at the side of the woman who had casted magic during the battle, Mateo let the gnome take the lead as he watched their collective backs. He listened in for a moment, clearing his throat after the initial introductions are made.
"My name is Mateo. A pleasure...as much as the situation can be called that." The man says with a mirthless little chuckle. He claps Lanni gently on the back, nodding softly. "That would be a good thing. Keep the souls at rest." The large man and the other woman he had seen cast magic approached soon after, his head dipping politely in greeting. "Greetings. I'm Mateo. I see I was fortunate to have been on my side of the ship when you all stormed on board." His voice was without scorn in it or judgment, even with the vicious melting of a man's face and the cleaving of another nearly in twain. There is a look that quickly crosses Mateo's face when he hears that Atia is nobility before it disappears a moment later.
Atia looks a tad uncomfortable at Mateo’s approach, the violence from earlier still occasionally flashing behind her eyelids when she blinked. She leans slightly against the large barbarian and offers her own polite nod in return. ”Atia,” She replies, and gestures to Joran. ”He’s Joran. I, ah, saw that you met Syl earlier...” She subtly indicates the bloodthirsty woman he had fought with earlier. ”Good luck with that.” She stares at him for a moment and opens her mouth to speak again, then decides against whatever she had been about to say with a shrug.
Joran nods in greeting at Atia's introduction. As she leans against him, he places an arm around her. He then looks a bit confused at the news he met Syl. Clearly noticing that the man still lives and he's not some type of undead walking, he leans down to whisper in Atia's ear. "He met Syl and he still breathes. Lucky him."
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"If it makes you feel better, I have a feeling most of us will have plenty of time to forget what happened. Most likely with alcohol." The oracle added. "At least Joran seems to be having a knack for the pirate life."
”Not sure I’m feeling like heavily indulging right now, but there are other ways to forget.” Atia doesn’t elaborate, but she glances up at Joran at the mention of his knack for piracy and decides not to speak for him in that regard.
Joran shrugs at Destinie's observation. "I guess you could say that. I've been around it all my life for whatever that's worth." He shrugs again. "Not really much more to it than that."
-----------------------------------------------------------------------
"That's understandable," Des replied before smiling. "Just don't keep yourself holed up. This may be our happiest time on this ship. Be sure to enjoy yourself every once in a while." She patted Joran on the shoulder before leaving...
As she walks away, he turns to Atia and leans down close. "If this is our happiest time, then we could be in trouble."
As she walks away, he turns to Atia and leans down close. "If this is our happiest time, then we could be in trouble."
“You’re not wrong.” She chuckles softly, squeezing his forearm. “We’ve only got a little bit longer left on this ship. This time we’ve got to celebrate our victory could be our happiest if we wanted it to be.” Atia grins wickedly at Joran, raising one eyebrow suggestively. ”Des is right, though. We shouldn’t hole ourselves up the whole time.”
“You’re not wrong.” She chuckles softly, squeezing his forearm. “We’ve only got a little bit longer left on this ship. This time we’ve got to celebrate our victory could be our happiest if we wanted it to be.” Atia grins wickedly at Joran, raising one eyebrow suggestively. ”Des is right, though. We shouldn’t hole ourselves up the whole time.”
Grinning mischievously, "I'm loving your idea of 'celebrating victories'. And are you sure we can't hole ourselves up the whole time?" He waggles his eyebrows.
Grinning mischievously, "I'm loving your idea of 'celebrating victories'. And are you sure we can't hole ourselves up the whole time?" He waggles his eyebrows.
"I think you might be able to convince me that we should if you try really, really hard," She replies with a grin, dragging Joran off to somewhere private.
"I know I just cut your officer practically in two - sorry about that by the way and I sure hope he wasn't a friend - but if you've got any extra healing in there, I could use a bit."
"From the sound of things, it wasn't something you had much choice in. I'll lay blame where it is actually due."
"Yeah, spellcasting can take a bit out of a person. I ran out of power a bit ago."
"Being a Cleric is fun and all, but I'm actually thinking of trying out a different line here. It looks like this ship already has enough healers."
~~~~~~~~~~
That evening at dinner, Lanni pulls out his flute again and provides a bit of light entertainment.
"I know I just cut your officer practically in two - sorry about that by the way and I sure hope he wasn't a friend - but if you've got any extra healing in there, I could use a bit.""From the sound of things, it wasn't something you had much choice in. I'll lay blame where it is actually due."
"Yeah, spellcasting can take a bit out of a person. I ran out of power a bit ago."
"Being a Cleric is fun and all, but I'm actually thinking of trying out a different line here. It looks like this ship already has enough healers."
With raised eyebrows, "A different line? Really? That's... that's interesting. I didn't know you could just, I don't know, 'turn it off', I guess, and be something different. That sounds... I don't know. I don't know what that sounds like. But, good on you, little guy. Whatever works." He nods.
The next morning, Lanni invites all of the surviving crew from the Man's Promise and a few of the friendlier people from the Wormwood for a short service honoring the fallen from the battle the day before. It is mostly stories and tales of the people as they were remembered.
Afterwards he approaches Atia, Des, and Cass. "Are you interested in a real seance now? I have some things planned, but I need different magic. And for that, I need the right kind of environment. An entire library would be preferable, but if we could get a couple of books - preferably ones on magic - and your Harrow cards, then I think I can entice the right kind of someone to help."
The small group finds a quiet corner of the kitchen and set the books and cards on the counter. Lanni focuses and meditates for a few minutes in silence. He pulls out his flute and plays a quick bit of music. Then begins speaking.
"OK. On offer is limited use of my physical body for a period of no more than 24 hours. You will have full access to all senses - touch and taste included. Additional influence can be negotiated later. So, one at a time - what do you have to offer in return?"
:⁂: "MmmHmm, not bad. How about you?" :⁂: "Not quite what I am looking for, but go ahead and rejoin the line and try again." :⁂ ⁉: "What? No. Next." :⁂: "Reasonable."
This continues for several minutes. Eventually:
:⁂: "Oooh, I like that. That could work quite nicely. You agree to be bound by the time limit, yes?" :⁂: "Excellent. So the spellcasting and the standard knowledge sharing and guidance. And the benefit for those who assisted as well, yes?" :⁂: "Very well. Welcome aboard."
Spirit Type: Archmage
Seance Boon: Your damaging spells deal an additional 2 points of damage to each target of the same type that they would normally deal.
Spirit Bonus: +1 to concentration checks, Intelligence checks, and Intelligence-based skill checks.
Influence: ①
Penalty: none
Taboo: none
Lesser Power: Arcane spells
Spell Slots:
level 1: 2 +1
Spells Gained: Ghost Sound, Unseen Servant
Innate 1/day: Dancing Lights, Ghost Sound, Prestidigitation, Speak with Animals
Cantrips: Light, Mage Hand, Message, Ghost Sound
1st: Unseen Servant
Slots used:
1st: 0/3
The next morning, Lanni invites all of the surviving crew from the Man's Promise and a few of the friendlier people from the Wormwood for a short service honoring the fallen from the battle the day before. It is mostly stories and tales of the people as they were remembered.
Afterwards he approaches Atia, Des, and Cass. "Are you interested in a real seance now? I have some things planned, but I need different magic. And for that, I need the right kind of environment. An entire library would be preferable, but if we could get a couple of books - preferably ones on magic - and your Harrow cards, then I think I can entice the right kind of someone to help."
Atia stays quiet and away from the majority of the people in attendance, only half-listening to the service. She was not particularly religious–she paid the lip service to the Chelish gods, but never paid much thought to the Divine beyond academic interest. She mulled over the part she played, especially given the new lifestyle she had been dragged into. The more she thought about it, the more conflicted she felt: some things would be necessary, especially for survival, but it didn’t necessarily sit well with her. It would certainly require more thought.
Afterwards, when Lanni approaches, Atia smiles softly and nods. ”I have my spellbook you may borrow, but I really don’t have much else...I would just prefer it if the spellbook didn’t leave my sight. That is…years of research and work.” She presents Lanni the spellbook when he needs it, then sits back and watches curiously.
The small group finds a quiet corner of the kitchen and set the books and cards on the counter. Lanni focuses and meditates for a few minutes in silence. He pulls out his flute and plays a quick bit of music. Then begins speaking.
"OK. On offer is limited use of my physical body for a period of no more than 24 hours. You will have full access to all senses - touch and taste included. Additional influence can be negotiated later. So, one at a time - what do you have to offer in return?"
:⁂: "MmmHmm, not bad. How about you?" :⁂: "Not quite what I am looking for, but go ahead and rejoin the line and try again." :⁂ ⁉: "What? No. Next." :⁂: "Reasonable."
This continues for several minutes. Eventually:
:⁂: "Oooh, I like that. That could work quite nicely. You agree to be bound by the time limit, yes?" :⁂: "Excellent. So the spellcasting and the standard knowledge sharing and guidance. And the benefit for those who assisted as well, yes?" :⁂: "Very well. Welcome aboard."
As the negotiations proceed, Atia leans forward, studying Lanni’s face and his movements, making a mental note of the vacant stares that accompany each spirit’s “reply.” Something to watch out for.
When Lanni is finished, Atia looks over him with an appreciative expression. “That sounded more like a business deal than I would have thought. It’s quite different when I summon help.”
“That sounded more like a business deal than I would have thought. It’s quite different when I summon help.”
"I've never tried it and I have no intention of it - but I hear that negotiating with Devils is much worse. Making a deal with a spirit is more like a bargain among friends. Though that may be because I'm only willing to work with the benevolent ones."
"Anyway, thanks again for the help." A wide grin spreads on his face. "Today should be tons of fun." :⁂: "Yes, benevolent fun."
Lanni heads out of the kitchen.
“That sounded more like a business deal than I would have thought. It’s quite different when I summon help.”"I've never tried it and I have no intention of it - but I hear that negotiating with Devils is much worse. Making a deal with a spirit is more like a bargain among friends. Though that may be because I'm only willing to work with the benevolent ones."
"Anyway, thanks again for the help." A wide grin spreads on his face. "Today should be tons of fun." :⁂: "Yes, benevolent fun."
Lanni heads out of the kitchen.
"Mm, yes--Devils are much more difficult, from what I've seen...I'm not particularly talented at getting people to see things my way, so I never went down that path." She smiles wryly. "If you ever need help again, I'd be happy to. I enjoyed seeing this side of magic."
"If you ever need help again, I'd be happy to. I enjoyed seeing this side of magic."
"Certainly. I usually do this once a day. Not all of the spirits are drawn to magic and knowledge though, but you can always participate if you want."
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Antagonizing Fipps & Co.
Mateo heard several uncreative, overused insults shouted after him as he walked away. Always nice to know where things stood.
The oracle made herself comfortable next to the cleric and joined in the watch. "No losses on our part and only a few on their side. Still wish it hadn't come to that," she admitted. She leaned her head at the other woman's shoulder as she got closer.
"Other than that... it actually felt pretty thrilling. I've heard of all sorts of tales in Riddleport, but that's nothing like experiencing it in real life."
Sandara nodded. "Thrilling, terrifying...to be one wrong move from death and make it through. Certainly has a heady feeling to it." She lowered her voice. "Makes you really feel alive..." She gave Des a pointed, questioning look, sliding a hand surreptitiously along the oracle's back.
"So, let's get started. Now, take the handle and hold it like this . . .."
In addition to the new 'volunteers', of which there were a solid twenty of so who had survived both the initial attack and Harrigan's demonstration, Jack joined Terry's training session. When Terry looked at him, the lad felt the need to explain himself.
"Yesterday was the second time I have ever been in combat. Had anyone come near me, I would most certainly be dead. I would appreciate anything you are able to teach me."
That evening at dinner, Lanni pulls out his flute again and provides a bit of light entertainment.
Lanni's music is a hit, and he is welcomed aboard by several members of the crew jovially by the time he's done. Rosie, in particular, is all smiles, joining in on her fiddle, which she'd been allowed to have back for the first time since she, too, was pressganged.
"Perhaps I'll see you tonight. Perhaps I won't."
Mateo was strolling along the deck before heading to his new hammock to turn in for the night when he felt someone watching him, years of honing his senses to possible danger coming in handy. He wasn't sure how he knew it was Syl, but he knew. He scanned his surroundings for her but she got the drop on him, literally, swinging down onto him from the rigging above and bowling him over onto his back amidst several haphazardly discarded empty crates, extra canvas, and such from the Man's Promise. She landed atop him, dagger out, and trailed it along the side of his face without breaking the skin.
"I'm not afraid of anything," she said, continuing the conversation from hours earlier as if no time had passed at all. "Seems like you aren't either." She slid the dagger along his neck in a twisted version of a lover's caress, then stabbed it violently into the wood beside his head. "So I'll dance with the Devil...and if you're a very good boy, I'll let you live."
Sandara nodded. "Thrilling, terrifying...to be one wrong move from death and make it through. Certainly has a heady feeling to it." She lowered her voice. "Makes you really feel alive..." She gave Des a pointed, questioning look, sliding a hand surreptitiously along the oracle's back.
The heat between the two was unpalpable as her face was drawn towards the clerics, not even needing the hand to bring her in. "Not as much as I do right now."
It was then that her lips met with Sandara's, their kiss starting more slowly this time around. She merely wanted a taste of what was likely to come as her hands moved down the other woman's shirt.
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Mateo had been wandering the deck when he felt his hackles begin to rise, his hand quietly drawing the dagger from his vest as he felt eyes upon him. He had met the idiots on board the Wormwood and wondered if they were so eager to meet their maker? No, this one was dangerously quiet and they were boisterous and without the tactic to quietly try to kill the man. Only a certain woman did. He heard the rope creak before instincts took over and he found himself bowled over by the quick, quiet, and deadly woman. The two of them rolled until she ended up on top, her hair a red curtain that blocked out the refuse around them. The blue eye stared up at her fiercely at first, his blade pressing against where her kidney would lay. Yet as recognition came, his blade twirled in his hand before hitting the deck's surface. Where there was once a sharp point, a firm hand settled as the bright blue went from dangerous to coy. His head moved with the touch of that blade, leaning into it so the slightest bit of red would appear on the edge.
"Mmm, I see. Only took you a few hours..." Mateo chided as if this woman didn't have him in a precarious position. His head tilted backwards, a soft sigh leaving him as he shrugged. "Can't hurt more than those who serve The Lady in the Room, eh?" The knife sunk into the wood beside his head and that confident grin would only grow more bold with her words. "You're so benevolent. Some are going to say I'm making you soft." A hand would shoot up into her hair, a fistful grabbed and yanked before pulling down the gorgeous killer above him for a kiss. There was certainly a struggle as they rolled into the nearby crates and canvas.
Any crewmate in the area could hear the most identifiable of sounds, though their curiosity would die when they caught sight of either of the participants. No show was worth the risk of death that the two of them together could could potentially create.
In the morning, Mateo would be frazzled with unkempt hair, a cut on his face, bite marks at the collarbone, and an unwillingness to let anyone clap him anywhere on the back. Despite all this, the grin on his face was as if he hadn't even been stabbed the day before. His elation and relaxation eventually waned as he approached the service the next morning for those lost in the battle. He motioned quietly for Lanni to not just include the sailors and captain from the Man's Promise but also the hideous-looking halfling he had struck down. The kind of crew that they were on had seemed to be made of devotees of Harrigan and those who were quietly displeased with the situation. A volatile situation composed of opportunities for certain.
Moseying his way down under the deck, Mateo sought to wet his whistle somewhat and that led him into the kitchen. The sound of snoring within it drew his attention to the messy, disheveled cook who was napping the mid-day away. There were bottles, all unmarked and unsorted, decorating the place but it looked like someone had been doing their best to try and categorize them. Sniffing from one bottle to another, he eventually found the one that smelled of spirits and a faint grin came to his face. As he tried to uncork the bottle, the figure behind him stirred and began to awaken.
"Oh...hello." Mateo said, blinking for a moment to try and figure out what he'd say. "I was...looking for company that could share a drink and you sm-look like you're the kind of friend I'm looking for. May I join you, my friend?"
Later on though, after what was likely an eventful moment in the kitchen, Mateo would find himself wandering the crew's quarters. He would approach the men who were gathered on top of the deck, pulling out a pair of dice in his hands.
"Anyone interested in a game of dice. You all have some gold and I have gold to bet."
"Evening, Poppy." Mateo said with a grin, nodding to her blades. "It had been a bit since I was actually fighting for my life. Come spar with me. I'll even let you lick the wooouuunnnds." Mateo finished, fluttering his eyelashes slightly.
Moseying his way down under the deck, Mateo sought to wet his whistle somewhat and that led him into the kitchen. The sound of snoring within it drew his attention to the messy, disheveled cook who was napping the mid-day away. There were bottles, all unmarked and unsorted, decorating the place but it looked like someone had been doing their best to try and categorize them. Sniffing from one bottle to another, he eventually found the one that smelled of spirits and a faint grin came to his face. As he tried to uncork the bottle, the figure behind him stirred and began to awaken.
"Oh...hello." Mateo said, blinking for a moment to try and figure out what he'd say. "I was...looking for company that could share a drink and you sm-look like you're the kind of friend I'm looking for. May I join you, my friend?"
"Must you encourage him?" Atia's voice rang from the entrance to the galley, having come in the galley to check on Kroop and get their evening meal started. She looks over the battered gentleman before her, one eyebrow quirked at his post-Syl appearance (despite her own neck and chest being decorated with, likely, much tamer love bites).
She looks around the room and sighs, briefly wondering how the other ship's galley might look; hopefully, it might be a tad more bearable than this. She approaches the two, crossing her arms over her chest and looking down at Ambrose with mild concern. "The man's already too drunk to stand."
A voice called out to him as he turned towards the feminine voice that spoke, his eyes taking in the disheveled woman that had made her way in. A smile spread across his face as he gave a slight shrug.
"I thought he was merely...making the most of his celebratory time. I didn't know he had a keeper." His attention turned to Kroop, whispering to the man. "She looks like a real ballbuster."
"I only sought to enjoy the little bit of time before we're inevitably put under the whip, metaphorically and literally so." He would then notice the quirk that was in her eye and look at his reflection for a moment before grinning. "Oh good. No black eye. Excellent."
A voice called out to him as he turned towards the feminine voice that spoke, his eyes taking in the disheveled woman that had made her way in. A smile spread across his face as he gave a slight shrug.
"I thought he was merely...making the most of his celebratory time. I didn't know he had a keeper." His attention turned to Kroop, whispering to the man. "She looks like a real ballbuster."
"I only sought to enjoy the little bit of time before we're inevitably put under the whip, metaphorically and literally so." He would then notice the quirk that was in her eye and look at his reflection for a moment before grinning. "Oh good. No black eye. Excellent."
"Oh, this is tame, for him," Atia replies with a grin, poking Ambrose lightly with her foot. "He is, theoretically, the ship's cook. I am merely the assistant." Around this new and dangerously charming man, her speech defensively slips into the cadence and diction of nobility.
She hops onto a clear space on the counter, sitting on the edge, and plucks out her own bottle of spirits, exactly where she had arranged it to be. She holds it up to Mateo in a toast and takes a drink, wincing slightly at the burning sensation. "Seems you've found an interesting time here already--not even a day on the ship and you're worried about black eyes." She grins again, looking pointedly at some of his interesting injuries.
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Lanni leaves the kitchen in the morning and heads out looking for someone to use his new spells on. At first he thinks of the crazy vampire lady - Syl was her name? - but decided that he liked keeping his insides inside. But there was the big lug next to her who looked a lot more useless in both brawn and brain.
So Lanni spends the morning surreptitiously watching Fipps and learning his routines. At one point when he is in the galley, Lanni casts Unseen Servant. "OK. Go poke and pinch him once every 5 seconds." he whispers as he walks casually into the galley and over to the kitchen doorway.
"Oh, hey Atia. How has your morning been going?"
~~~~~~~~
After speaking with Atia and harassing Fipps for a while, Lanni gets directions from Atia to the quartermaster's station.
"Hi. Grok, is it? I'm Lanni. I seem to have fallen into a bit of a pickle and could use both a rapier and a shield if you have one. Not that I really know how to use either, but they will help me at least look the part."
~~~~~~~~
Later at dinner, Lanni sees Fipps sitting at a spot on a different table. Lanni waits until Syl walks past Fipps, then concentrates for a couple seconds. Half of Fipps' dinner suddenly gets launched at Syl's backside.
Mateo notices the change in diction and memory comes back to her; she was the noblewoman from Cheliax. It was a surprise that she was serving on the ship and not being ransomed. Then again, maybe her family was just really, really poor. Maybe they hated her. Cheliax wasn't a kind place after all.
"Ah, the assistant chef. Make sure to be friends with you then, wouldn't want to die on a piece of bad meat. That'd be unbecoming of me." Mateo would say matter-of-factly, leaning against the counter as the ship swayed with the sea. Her wince earned a little grin, one that grew wider as she motioned to his injuries.
"Alas, I lived through the night. I must've been the best boy." He says with a dip of his head as he winked. "You don't seem to be at your best either. That big man give you a hell of a night?" The attraction between the two of them was obvious with the little touches, not hidden on the ship at all. At least Harrigan could say that love blossomed on his rotted ship.
Mateo notices the change in diction and memory comes back to her; she was the noblewoman from Cheliax. It was a surprise that she was serving on the ship and not being ransomed. Then again, maybe her family was just really, really poor. Maybe they hated her. Cheliax wasn't a kind place after all.
"Ah, the assistant chef. Make sure to be friends with you then, wouldn't want to die on a piece of bad meat. That'd be unbecoming of me." Mateo would say matter-of-factly, leaning against the counter as the ship swayed with the sea. Her wince earned a little grin, one that grew wider as she motioned to his injuries.
"Alas, I lived through the night. I must've been the best boy." He says with a dip of his head as he winked. "You don't seem to be at your best either. That big man give you a hell of a night?" The attraction between the two of them was obvious with the little touches, not hidden on the ship at all. At least Harrigan could say that love blossomed on his rotted ship.
Atia cringes slightly, shaking her head. "Mmm, honestly, there's always a chance you'd die on a piece of bad meat with me. I am getting better, though. Slowly," She says in a self-deprecating tone.
Atia studies this one-eyed swashbuckler carefully after his last question, her face flushing slightly at both the memory of the night before and the boldness of the question. Given that she hadn't had anyone at all to really talk to about this, though...she found she didn't mind the question much at all and deigns to indulge in a bit of gossip. She finds a couple of cups nearby on the counter and offers Mateo one after filling them both. "I am better than ever," Atia says primly, a small smirk on her face. "He certainly did. Who's giving you a hell of a night?"
"Oh, hey Atia. How has your morning been going?"
Just as she finishes her question, she hears Lanni's voice from the doorway, and she grins at the gnome. "Relatively uneventful. A blessing. Adjusting alright so far?" When talking to Lanni, her speech drops its formality and sounds a tad more casual.
"Excellent. I'm currently seeing what I can find around the ship. Do you happen to know where I could get some more equipment? Just basic stuff. A sword and maybe a shield."
Lanni seems to be mostly stalling for time and is desperately trying not to look back over his shoulder at the galley.
"Excellent. I'm currently seeing what I can find around the ship. Do you happen to know where I could get some more equipment? Just basic stuff. A sword and maybe a shield."
Lanni seems to be mostly stalling for time and is desperately trying not to look back over his shoulder at the galley.
Atia points to the closed door off in the corner of this same room. "Quartermaster's right over there. Her name's Grok. She's lovely." Atia's grins, but her word is sincere--she does quite like Grok.
Lanni's nervous demeanor doesn't go unnoticed. "You doing alright? You look a bit anxious," Atia asks, a concerned look crossing her face.
The heat between the two was palpable as her face was drawn towards the cleric’s, not even needing the hand to bring her in. "Not as much as I do right now."
It was then that her lips met with Sandara's, their kiss starting more slowly this time around. She merely wanted a taste of what was likely to come as her hands moved down the other woman's shirt.
Sandara led her back to their spot behind the crates in the hold…but the new stuff was being offloaded and packed in, and there would be no hiding there. Both of them eager to find a secluded spot, Sandara held her hand as she led her through the ship seeking any solitude – and pulling her into Kroop and Grok’s quarters, the both of them up on deck gambling at present.
The red head made an exaggerated face of disgust at Kroop’s filthy hammock before rolling into Grok’s with Des wrapped in her arms. ”I’m sure she’d understand,” Sandara whispered. ”But we should be quick, just in case…” she winked.
"You're so benevolent. Some are going to say I'm making you soft."
Syl’s near-permanent grin widened and she glanced down. ”Well I can already tell no one will be saying the reverse.”
—-----
Once their fun was done, her hand went to his throat, cutting off his air for a moment. ”Tread. Carefully,” she enunciated crisply. ”If you make me regret this, I’ll make sure you do, too.” She climbed off him and left without another word. Though he couldn’t help but notice her legs seemed a touch wobbly as she walked away.
"Oh...hello." Mateo said, blinking for a moment to try and figure out what he'd say. "I was...looking for company that could share a drink and you sm-look like you're the kind of friend I'm looking for. May I join you, my friend?"
Kroop, already heavily inebriated, blinked up at Mateo, though one eye seemed to take longer to complete the action. ”Mmmrahhh fwerrrr razzbiss hann…ha HA!” he slurred unintelligibly, amused by whatever he thought he’d said.
"She looks like a real ballbuster."
Kroop laughed so hard his eyes teared up and he nodded.
So Lanni spends the morning surreptitiously watching Fipps and learning his routines. At one point when he is in the galley, Lanni casts Unseen Servant. "OK. Go poke and pinch him once every 5 seconds." he whispers as he walks casually into the galley and over to the kitchen doorway.
He hears Fipps yell ”Hey!”, and five seconds later, ”You stop that or I’ll f%*&ing stab you in the throat!.” followed by ”How in the…what’s…GAH!” as he enters the galley.
"Hi. Grok, is it? I'm Lanni. I seem to have fallen into a bit of a pickle and could use both a rapier and a shield if you have one. Not that I really know how to use either, but they will help me at least look the part."
Grok leaned forward to peer over the counter. ”Ah! There you are. Of course, short stuff. Which one do you like better?” Her words were sluggish. She’d been drinking, too. She showed him two different shields sized to fit smaller folk. One was a brass circle with a bit of a floral design engraved in it. The other was more rectangular affair, made of steel and with a lion emblazoned upon the front. ”Thirty gold for the pair.”
Later at dinner, Lanni sees Fipps sitting at a spot on a different table. Lanni waits until Syl walks past Fipps, then concentrates for a couple seconds. Psychic casting of Mage Hand. Half of Fipps' dinner suddenly gets launched at Syl's backside.
Syl freezes in place, and slowly, slowly turns to look at Fipps. ”Syl! Syl that weren’t me, it was the ghost! Syl you listen to me, don’t you get keelhauled, Syl, you kill me you know he’ll do it! Syl!”
"Evening, Poppy." Mateo said with a grin, nodding to her blades. "It had been a bit since I was actually fighting for my life. Come spar with me. I'll even let you lick the wooouuunnnds." Mateo finished, fluttering his eyelashes slightly.
”I don’t do ‘sparring’. When I fight you, it’ll be for real.” She was crouched on the rail, sharpening her blade on a whetstone, metal ringing against the stone. She paused mid-motion and her eyes shot in his direction. ”And you’ll lose again.”
Lanni's nervous demeanor doesn't go unnoticed. "You doing alright? You look a bit anxious,"
Lanni can't help but break into a grin for a couple seconds. He quickly composes himself. "No, I'm fine. How about you Mateo? You do anything interesting since coming aboard here?"
He hears Fipps yell ”Hey!”, and five seconds later, ”You stop that or I’ll f~~!ing stab you in the throat!.”
Lanni's grin breaks out again. He quickly bites his lips together. "Maybe I should go talk to Grok now. See you around."
He hurries over and goes through the door Atia indicated.
~~~~~~~~
”Of course, short stuff. Which one do you like better?” She showed him two different shields sized to fit smaller folk. One was a brass circle with a bit of a floral design engraved in it. The other was more rectangular affair, made of steel and with a lion emblazoned upon the front. ”Thirty gold for the pair.”
"I think I like this brass one better. So thirty for the one shield and the overgrown knitting needle?"
As Joran makes his way back to the kitchen from the upper deck, he catches sight of the smooth-talking Mateo and Atia speaking. Jealousy attacks him from all angles but he keeps his demeanor pleasant as he moves over next to Atia. "Mateo, right?" he asks, narrowing his eyes as he notices the various injuries upon him. "You look like hell. Rough night?" he asks, raising his eyebrows as he crosses his arms.
Sandara led her back to their spot behind the crates in the hold…but the new stuff was being offloaded and packed in, and there would be no hiding there. Both of them eager to find a secluded spot, Sandara held her hand as she led her through the ship seeking any solitude – and pulling her into Kroop and Grok’s quarters, the both of them up on deck gambling at present.
The red head made an exaggerated face of disgust at Kroop’s filthy hammock before rolling into Grok’s with Des wrapped in her arms. ”I’m sure she’d understand,” Sandara whispered. ”But we should be quick, just in case…” she winked.
The amount of secrecy only added to the adventure that the two were having. Frantically searching for a secret place for them to be alone for the moment. Just when it all seemed lost, Sandara finally found a spot... just not what was really theirs.
But then the talk about the thrill of it all and what they went through to get to this point. Sure it was scary about the risk of being caught, but the reward just seemed all the more greater and all she could do was give out a nervous grin. "Let's not go about it too hastily."
This time around, she turned so that she was on top this time around. She leaned in closer so that they can look face to face. [smaller]"Besmara's avatar only deserves the best worship..." And she would go to work pleasing her partner for what little time she had...
Afterwards, she shared drinks with Sandy and decided to entertain the crowd with a bit of dance.
--------------------------------
The good news was that she was sober this time around to witness the ceremony with Lanni and the other two. Yet she was more intent on observing for the time being. She would leave her questions about the event for later.
First of all, she wanted to pay a visit to someone she hadn't had the chance to check on. After seeing that Kroop was inebriated she picked a different time to try and reach out to him.
----------------------------------------------
After finally getting her hands on some drinks, she was ready to entertain the crowd, this time around with some dancing that she picked up from Varisians. She was at least drunk enough not to care whether she was good at it or not.
-----------------------------------------
Afterwards, she went straight to Aretta. "Hey you! she spoke with a slightly slurred voice. "Don't think I forgot our tussle that day! I'll take up any challenge you can throw at me to settle things once and for all!
She would try one more time to reach out to Kroop for a bit of conversation.
This time, she managed to catch him at least a bit sober. She sat down next to him before speaking. "I don't think I've really introduced myself to you. You can call me Des," she started. "I actually thought about becoming the cook's mate... but Atia had things handled much better. She's doing well for someone who's just picked up that art. You should be proud of her."
As Joran makes his way back to the kitchen from the upper deck, he catches sight of the smooth-talking Mateo and Atia speaking. Jealousy attacks him from all angles but he keeps his demeanor pleasant as he moves over next to Atia. "Mateo, right?" he asks, narrowing his eyes as he notices the various injuries upon him. "You look like hell. Rough night?" he asks, raising his eyebrows as he crosses his arms.
Atia grins when she sees Joran, then finds another cup and fills it with the liquor, offering it to the barbarian. "Hello, love." She takes another drink from her own, pulling a face. "This is awful. Why do people like this?" She mutters, holding up the glass and inspecting the liquid briefly. Despite its awful flavor, she enjoys the pleasant warmth and slight lightheadedness she begins to feel the more she drinks. She turns her attention back to Mateo, awaiting his reply.
"Good day to you Lanni." Mateo says, tipping his hat to the man. At his question, his smile widened uncontrollably as he gave a shrug. "Something like that. I've learned that Fibbs...Flips...whatever his name is is an idiot and being considered for the same wage as him feels insulting." The devil shouts from the galley and Mateo watches the man leave as quickly as he arrived.
His attention turned towards the cook's assistant, his smile remaining even as he jumped back to where they were.
"Ah, my deadly poppy. She stings like she was Calistria herself, I must say. I'm a fool but what can I say, I'm attracted to danger." Mateo says with a wistful sigh, rubbing at his throat lightly in memory. "I overheard, a bit, that you're from Cheliax. An aristocrat or something? Not one of the major houses, surely?" Mateo asked cautiously, trying to not betray his intentions. Last thing he needed was inspiring a wizard who melted faces that the easiest way to restore their honor was to melt his face. The big man then waltzed into the gallery, bringing a grin to Mateo's face.
"Ah! Lover boy! Slaughterer of Men! Good to see you." The man would make his way over beside the wizard and the smile would slowly turn sly. How curious.
"A rough night but one well-spent, I must say. Your lady and I were gossiping about our dalliances like old women over tea." He looked towards Atia, whispering low. "Your secrets are safe with me."
It only takes a few rolls for Mateo to learn the sway of the boat and try to add the motion to his rolls. Another two rolls and a fortunate "11" was rolled on the dice. A collective groan escaped the men as he grabbed his potion and the pile of coin, nodding at the men.
"A pleasure gentleman. Sometimes luck just isn't on our side." Mateo said, gathering the coin in hand. It was a fortunate break and he got to keep his ace in his hand...or rather...his eye.
"Lose again!?" Mateo said, shrugging slightly as he rested his hands on the rail and stood out into the sea. The fading light had stolen the rich blues away, the dark of the abyss beginning to rise instead. "I think it was more of a draw, to be honest. We'll call it a draw." The ever-present smirk stayed on his face as he fearlessly relaxed beside her.
"A spar is always with real blades, real blood. It takes effort and expertise to not harm your opponent while still drawing blood. I don't doubt your ability as a killer, it is why those buffoons like Flibs gather around you like sharks to meat." He turns his head a little, quirking it a little bit. "Why do you keep their company? You're better than them. Do you enjoy slumming it? And that is not an invitation to take a swipe at me."
Atia grins when she sees Joran, then finds another cup and fills it with the liquor, offering it to the barbarian. "Hello, love." She takes another drink from her own, pulling a face. "This is awful. Why do people like this?" She mutters, holding up the glass and inspecting the liquid briefly. Despite its awful flavor, she enjoys the pleasant warmth and slight lightheadedness she begins to feel the more she drinks. She turns her attention back to Mateo, awaiting his reply.
Smiling and accepting her offer, "Hey, darlin'." He takes a drink as the swashbuckler talks.
The big man then waltzed into the gallery, bringing a grin to Mateo's face.
"Ah! Lover boy! Slaughterer of Men! Good to see you." The man would make his way over beside the wizard and the smile would slowly turn sly. How curious.
"A rough night but one well-spent, I must say. Your lady and I were gossiping about our dalliances like old women over tea." He looked towards Atia, whispering low. "Your secrets are safe with me."
Looking curiously at him, a slight grin forms. "Well, here's hoping she doesn't kill you." He raises a glass in a toasting manner before taking another drink.
Syl freezes in place, and slowly, slowly turns to look at Fipps. ”Syl! Syl that weren’t me, it was the ghost! Syl you listen to me, don’t you get keelhauled, Syl, you kill me you know he’ll do it! Syl!”
Lanni keeps his head down and continues eating his food.
:⁂: "Of course there's a purpose," he whispers in response.
After Fipps finishes begging for his skin to stay intact and Syl leaves, Lanni continues using Mage Hand occasionally while he finishes what is left of his dinner. Sometimes spinning his spoon to the other side of the bowl, sometimes just making the bowl wobble or spin.
Looking curiously at him, a slight grin forms. "Well, here's hoping she doesn't kill you." He raises a glass in a toasting manner before taking another drink.
"Ha! That's the goal, friend, that's the goal. Maybe I can stop her from killing herself too." He says, lifting what was likely some kind of cooking oil as a toast before setting it back down.
Terry will offer one class each day. The goal for that quick a set of lessons is to just to teach them a little about how to hold a weapon and how to block shots coming in. Attack should follow.
The rest of his mechanical actions will be spent trying to make some positive contacts in the even newer crew members.
"Good day to you Lanni." Mateo says, tipping his hat to the man. At his question, his smile widened uncontrollably as he gave a shrug. "Something like that. I've learned that Fibbs...Flips...whatever his name is is an idiot and being considered for the same wage as him feels insulting." The devil shouts from the galley and Mateo watches the man leave as quickly as he arrived.
His attention turned towards the cook's assistant, his smile remaining even as he jumped back to where they were.
"Ah, my deadly poppy. She stings like she was Calistria herself, I must say. I'm a fool but what can I say, I'm attracted to danger." Mateo says with a wistful sigh, rubbing at his throat lightly in memory. "I overheard, a bit, that you're from Cheliax. An aristocrat or something? Not one of the major houses, surely?" Mateo asked cautiously, trying to not betray his intentions. Last thing he needed was inspiring a wizard who melted faces that the easiest way to restore their honor was to melt his face. The big man then waltzed into the gallery, bringing a grin to Mateo's face.
"Ah! Lover boy! Slaughterer of Men! Good to see you." The man would make his way over beside the wizard and the smile would slowly turn sly. How curious.
"A rough night but one well-spent, I must say. Your lady and I were gossiping about our dalliances like old women over tea." He looked towards Atia, whispering low. "Your secrets are safe with me."
”I am from a major house.” She says, narrowing her eyes slightly over the rim of her glass as she takes another careful sip. She doesn’t know him well enough to gauge his mannerisms and why he might be asking such a question, but she decides to keep things light and smile, leaning against her loverboy affectionately. ”Your discretion is appreciated,” She quips in reply to Mateo's whisper, sipping from her cup with a small giggle. She tops all three of them off, her face flushing a bit red with the drink.
Looking curiously at him, a slight grin forms. "Well, here's hoping she doesn't kill you." He raises a glass in a toasting manner before taking another drink."Ha! That's the goal, friend, that's the goal. Maybe I can stop her from killing herself too." He says, lifting what was likely some kind of cooking oil as a toast before setting it back down.
It’s taken Atia a moment to really put two-and-two together, and she finally looks at Mateo incredulously. ”Are you dallying with Syl?” She asks, going a little pale at the thought. She looks up at Joran with wide eyes, then back to Mateo. ”Maybe you’ll keep her off of our backs.”
"Ah, surprised to see one of your kind here is all. I won't pry, your business is yours." Mateo would very much like to keep his own business and head as his own. He takes the proper cup, tosses it back, and smacks his lips like it was the best drink he had in quite some time. It seemed that the cook's supply had some strength to it.
"Yes, my bloody poppy. I think she'll stab me if I use the possessive though." Mateo murmurs, rubbing his chin lightly for a moment. When she mentions that he may be able to help keep her off of their backs, he tilts his head slightly. "You know, I've been picking up something of a...schism between the crew. It isn't spoken but it is there. Why?"
Looking at Atia as she speaks, he looks at her curiously. Is she... tipsy? he thinks before turning his attention to Mateo as he responds.
"Yes, my bloody poppy. I think she'll stab me if I use the possessive though." Mateo murmurs, rubbing his chin lightly for a moment. When she mentions that he may be able to help keep her off of their backs, he tilts his head slightly. "You know, I've been picking up something of a...schism between the crew. It isn't spoken but it is there. Why?"
Letting out a light chuckle, "Think? Put the word 'know' in there and you won't be wrong. Just make sure you protect your gut. She'll go for the gut first. And a schism? No idea what the hell that means but if you're talking about some type of hate between us, then yeah, you'd be right. Syl hates us. Me and Atia especially. We don't know why. She wants to gut me bad. She had the chance to let me drown but didn't. We don't know why about that one either."
"And the rest of her gang, or Fipps gang or whoever's the leader of that sorry lot, hates us and our bunch. They jumped us on our second day here. Or the third day. I don't remember. Anyway, since you and the little guy," speaking of Lanni, "are making nice with us, they're going to hate you both too."
"And as Atia said, if you could keep Syl off our backs then that'd be great. Maybe you can keep her off our backs by keeping her on hers, then she'll forget about us. You do that, and survive, well then you may be the very first to live to tell the tale." He throws him a wink, taking another drink.
"Ah, surprised to see one of your kind here is all. I won't pry, your business is yours." Mateo would very much like to keep his own business and head as his own. He takes the proper cup, tosses it back, and smacks his lips like it was the best drink he had in quite some time. It seemed that the cook's supply had some strength to it.
“Oh, I’m as surprised as you are. I was among the last group press-ganged onto this ship at Port Peril…So was Joran.” Atia finishes off her second drink and sets the empty glass down, definitely feeling a tad tipsy. Perhaps more. She didn’t really drink that often, aside from the awful rum rations. This felt a tad…better. Less sick. More talkative. “My family thinks I’m exploring some arcane ruins. Hopefully, no scions of House Leroung have any reason to be gallivanting around this area.”
Looking at Atia as she speaks, he looks at her curiously. Is she... tipsy? he thinks before turning his attention to Mateo as he responds.
"Yes, my bloody poppy. I think she'll stab me if I use the possessive though." Mateo murmurs, rubbing his chin lightly for a moment. When she mentions that he may be able to help keep her off of their backs, he tilts his head slightly. "You know, I've been picking up something of a...schism between the crew. It isn't spoken but it is there. Why?"
Letting out a light chuckle, "Think? Put the word 'know' in there and you won't be wrong. Just make sure you protect your gut. She'll go for the gut first. And a schism? No idea what the hell that means but if you're talking about some type of hate between us, then yeah, you'd be right. Syl hates us. Me and Atia especially. We don't know why. She wants to gut me bad. She had the chance to let me drown but didn't. We don't know why about that one either."
"And the rest of her gang, or Fipps gang or whoever's the leader of that sorry lot, hates us and our bunch. They jumped us on our second day here. Or the third day. I don't remember. Anyway, since you and the little guy," speaking of Lanni, "are making nice with us, they're going to hate you both too."
"And as Atia said, if you could keep Syl off our backs then that'd be great. Maybe you can keep her off our backs by keeping her on hers, then she'll forget about us. You do that, and survive, well then you may be the very first to live to tell the tale." He throws him a wink, taking another drink.
”Personally, I think the schism is as a result of poor leadership,” Atia hiccups slightly, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. ”Fear is all well and good, but you can’t rely on leadership via fear alone. Harrigan sows discontent among his crew.” She catches herself before she rambles a little too much. ”He tried to get Des - the white-haired woman - to poison Joran to prove her loyalty. It went poorly. For her, not Joran. Clearly.” She snakes one of her arms around Joran’s waist, slipping a hand just slightly under his shirt to touch his lower back and starts to trace little circles there absently. ”As for Syl, I have some theories about that. However, I am in her debt. So.” Atia shrugs. ”I don’t wish to test my luck with her.”
“Oh, I’m as surprised as you are. I was among the last group press-ganged onto this ship at Port Peril…So was Joran.” Atia finishes off her second drink and sets the empty glass down, definitely feeling a tad tipsy. Perhaps more. She didn’t really drink that often, aside from the awful rum rations. This felt a tad…better. Less sick. More talkative.
Joran gives a matter-of-fact nod, shrugging.
”Personally, I think the schism is as a result of poor leadership,” Atia hiccups slightly, covering her mouth with the back of her hand. ”Fear is all well and good, but you can’t rely on leadership via fear alone. Harrigan sows discontent among his crew.” She catches herself before she rambles a little too much. ”He tried to get Des - the white-haired woman - to poison Joran to prove her loyalty. It went poorly. For her, not Joran. Clearly.” She snakes one of her arms around Joran’s waist, slipping a hand just slightly under his shirt to touch his lower back and starts to trace little circles there absently. ”As for Syl, I have some theories about that. However, I am in her debt. So.” Atia shrugs. ”I don’t wish to test my luck with her.”
His attention upon the wizard as she speaks, a slight grin forms at her touch as he cuts his attention back to Mateo and says, "Yep. That sums it up pretty well. Don't cross Harrigan. You'll be keelhauled yesterday if you do. And I don't care if it's because you looked at him wrong. And I also wish I were kidding." He takes another drink.
Afterwards, she shared drinks with Sandy and decided to entertain the crowd with a bit of dance.
Being a good deal further into her drinks than usual, Des's dancing did indeed entertain the crowd, though not in the manner she intended. A few rotten bits of produce that had turned before they could be used were thrown her way.
~~~The next morning~~~
She wanted to pay a visit to someone she hadn't had the chance to check on. After seeing that Kroop was inebriated she picked a different time to try and reach out to him.
Her first attempt at speaking with Kroop, he was conscious but barely cognizant, and he just nodded at what she said and laughed, not registering any of it.
~~~Afternoon~~
After finally getting her hands on some drinks, she was ready to entertain the crowd, this time around with some dancing that she picked up from Varisians. She was at least drunk enough not to care whether she was good at it or not.
Sandara joined the sultry Varisian dance, and the two of them dancing together did indeed entertain several of the folks they were least interested in entertaining -- but better to deal with catcalls and whistles than threats.
Afterwards, she went straight to Aretta. "Hey you! she spoke with a slightly slurred voice. "Don't think I forgot our tussle that day! I'll take up any challenge you can throw at me to settle things once and for all!
Aretta looked at her dismissively, having just been present for the pair's dancing. "Oh I think it's already settled. I spent twenty years of my life on my back, an' you're a bigger piece of trash than I ever was." Fipps and the other guffawed at the jab.
She would try one more time to reach out to Kroop for a bit of conversation.
This time, she managed to catch him at least a bit sober. She sat down next to him before speaking. "I don't think I've really introduced myself to you. You can call me Des," she started. "I actually thought about becoming the cook's mate... but Atia had things handled much better. She's doing well for someone who's just picked up that art. You should be proud of her."
Kroop had slept the day away from the previous day's drinking, and woken up long enough to begin tonight's round of the same, so Des caught him in one of the rare hours where he was conscious. "Ahhh, Des, I'm knowing this. The Captain was taking a shine and then not so much, eh? Atia's a good kid, she tries to keep me in line." He laughed a belly laugh. "Poor thing!"
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I don't doubt your ability as a killer, it is why those buffoons like Flibs gather around you like sharks to meat." He turns his head a little, quirking it a little bit. "Why do you keep their company? You're better than them. Do you enjoy slumming it? And that is not an invitation to take a swipe at me."
"I don't keep anyone's company," she said coldly, resuming sharpening her blade. "Everyone aboard this ship is a fool. The officers, the flunkies, the little resistance group that's banded together thinking they've any hope of getting out of this alive. And you might be the biggest fool of the lot, if you think we're friends or that I want to have a little chat, just because we took a tumble."
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The day and a half of revelry was a welcome boost to morale across the ship, with many such conversations taking place and allegiances forming and being strengthened.
The next morning, when the bell was rung for the day's shift to begin, there were many who awoke with the groans of having celebrated too hard. People shuffled up onto the deck to find Plugg awaiting them, perched atop the poop deck and looking down at the growing crowd.
"Those who are called, gather your things and board the Man's Promise, where I will address you further shortly. The rest will remain aboard the Wormwood. Fun's over. There's work to be done."
There were a few nervous murmurs throughout the gathering -- friends or allies hoping not to be parted. Would the officers' mean streak continue? Would they purposely separate the troublesome elements on his ship from one another? Those who had recently found love, or something like it, were especially nervous.
Curiously, that did not come to pass. Each of you was called, as were a few of the crew you'd come to like. Unfortunately, the folks you'd come to hate were called as well. When all was said and done, most of the officers remained aboard the Wormwood, along with nearly all of the men captured from the Promise -- the exceptions being Mateo and Lanni, at Scourge's recommendation. Grok was brought on to continue her role as quartermaster and assume the role of boatswain as well, and Plugg grimaced as he called the useless Kroop -- Harrigan was tired of the man and happy to be rid of him. When all was said and done, each ship carried about two dozen people.
You all took your last look at the Wormwood, for now , at least. Scourge took role as you all boarded the Promise, and before long the ships were unlashed from one another and being made to get underway. Plugg ascended to the lower of the two aft decks, leaned forward over the railing, looking over his crew coldly.
"You will address me as Captain Plugg. Harrigan has the first makings of his fleet, now, and will heretofore be Admiral Harrigan if you speak of him -- which you'll have no need to do. There will be no more rum rations, nor alcohol of any sort. You are here to work, not to enjoy yourselves. There will be no more cavorting, no more fornicating, no more fighting. You will wake, work, eat, and sleep. If you cannot manage this, you are of no use to me, and will have no place aboard this ship." His tone left no doubt as to the manner by which rule breakers would be departing. "You have ten minutes to stow your gear and familiarize yourself with the vessel. Then you will work until I ring the bell to tell you that you are finished working. Am I understood?"
Lanni looks sadly around at the familiar ship with its unfamiliar crew. As well as the blood stains on the deck that still haven't been properly cleaned off.
And worst of all is that he feels very much alone. Being woken up early and immediately put to task didn't leave him with any time to contact any spirits. And from the sound of it, there won't be any time in the future for it either. At least not until this evening. Maybe then he could sneak away for an hour or so.
He heads down to his old room and bunk to stow anything that he doesn't currently need. He drops off his rapier and shield, but keeps the dagger he had originally.
He then seeks out Seadreamer. "So what are my assigned duties to be? I doubt playing songs and telling stories is going to cut it. I can probably do just about anything else if given enough time to prepare for it. But time seems to be in short supply."
Seadreamer was given leave to assign the crew to their tasks today, and he played to their strengths best as he could. No job aboard the ship was easy, and all had to be done, but he'd be damned if he sent a friend to the bilges. Fipps could enjoy a day down there to himself, after an annoying night of ranting about ghosts and being haunted.
"Could use a runner to relay orders to the crew. Otherwise, if yer thinkin' you could climb it, could use a lookout in the nest. Your choice." "And if yer needin' time to prepare, go do what needs done, I'll cover for you."