As the team goes about disciplining Rosie, Terry focuses on not providing the hardened crew a reaction that would amuse them. He forces himself to watch, and manage to restrict his honest reaction to a slight narrowing of his eyes.
Really don't know what this little lass did, or not, to land at The Mast, but something tells me it is worse than she deserves. Not competent enough to find sailors looking for work, probably not competent enough to handle the sailors they have.
His effort to control his reaction keeps him from watching others as he might otherwise have done.
Tired and worn out from the unfamiliar work in the rigging, Ming watches the person called Rosie getting whipped with a blank face.
Every now and then she shoots a look to her fellow riggers, especially the dwarf and Samms, who she failed to impress so bitterly.
Chewing her lips she tried to decide wether they should have an accident or not.
And if you don't want to be my sister, your skull will get a big fat blister...or something like that. I think that was the saying. Now i know it makes sense.
But there were also the other two "new recruits" working the rigging, who came with her. Perhaps they would make usable friends and allies.
One thing was sure, this was a dangerous shark basin and a sly fox would not swim in those waters alone.
I suppose it was a bit too much to hope on the first day... Atia looks ruefully after Grok as she leaves, then offers a smile and a wave to the half-orc. Atia really puts her back into cleaning, making an effort to get things clean enough that her stomach doesn't churn thinking about what Kroop is cooking. At the mention of poison, Atia snorts. "Poison is so common. There are better, more interesting ways to kill a person." She puts some dishes she was working on off to the side and wipes her hands on a bit of cloth that wasn't fully stained with...something.
She frowns at "blood hour," following Kroop out of the galley and up onto the deck. She watches the display impassively, crossing her arms over her chest. Luckily for her, nobility relished this brand of punishment: this was not the first spectacle of humiliation that she had witnessed, nor, she thought, would it be her last.
She does not intervene, finding that she cared less about the human side of it and more about the business end of things: public humiliation, while it did successfully instill fear, was bad management, and the purview of weak men who couldn't garner enough respect to fill a thimble.
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Eyes going wide, Joran's fury rises so quickly that he has to clench his quivering jaw tightly to keep from yelling out. He knows if he does, Rosie could suffer an even greater fate. I swear by the very sea itself, Scourge, you'd better kill me before I get off this boat. Because if you don't, you are going to suffer like you've never suffered before.
Cass grimaced as she heard Rosie's name called she glanced to see Rosie's face and gauge whether she could or should try to do make any moves to help or take the punishment. She determined rather quickly that there was nothing she could do and met Rosie's eyes sending what she hoped was a comforting glance. She then kept her gaze on the ground.
It looked like the burly man was getting the rough treatment compared to the others. It made sense for them to target the biggest newcomer. She was breathing heavily but not much else. That changed when they wanted to make an example of the halfling. She struggled not to contain her displeasure of the entire thing.
Rosie was strapped to the mast and Plugg administered three lashes with his whip, Joran feeling each one, as the bastard no doubt guessed he would. For her part, Rosie took them silently, eyes watering and breath catching, but she wouldn’t give any of them the pleasure of a scream.
When it was over she kept her chin high and glared defiantly at anyone who glanced her way, but she refused to look in Joran’s direction. She gravitated back towards Cassandra within the crowd, not speaking a word, but seeming to take a bit of comfort from being near her new friend.
Jake was brought up next. ”Jake SIggs. You were caught stealing from the Captain. Are you aware of the penalty for such an action?” Scourge called out.
Jake was much calmer than he’d been in the bilge. He nodded. ”Keelhauling, sir,” he said simply. He was rewarded with a frown from Scourge, who’d been hoping the man would beg for his life or at least appear terrified. Plugg looked up at Harrigan, questioningly.
”Chum the waters, first,” the Captain said softly. ”Use Gruft. He died earlier today.”
Scourge went to a small box on the main deck, up against the foredeck. All of you had passed it at one point or another without noticing it, innocuous as it was. A parrot was perched atop it, feathers patchy. Scourge shooed the bird away and it flapped off with a ”Let me out, bastards!” Opening the box, he hauled out a dead man who’d been locked in there for what seemed a long time, if the smell was any indication. Scourge dragged the body to the foredeck, Plugg leading Jake behind, and the crowd knew to follow.
Gruft’s body was tossed in front of the prow, buckets of blood and fish bits tossed in after, drawing sharks. A rope was tied to Jake’s wrists, and affixed to the front of the ship. Plugg shoved him forward, and he climbed the rail of his own volition. He stood there a moment, and gave a single nod Joran’s direction…then smiled right in Plugg’s face, and jumped, before the man could toss him in.
Jake was left under the ship for a full five minutes. What they pulled up was not even recognizable as human. It was missing limbs, flesh shredded to pieces against the barnacled hull, chunks missing where the sharks had fed. It would have been easy enough to cut the rope without seeing the results, but Harrigan wanted his men to see what awaited them, if they crossed him.
The bloody hour finished, the crew was dismissed for their evening meal and leisure time. The officers, for the most part, joined the Captain in his quarters for their own meal. You find yourself starving, in spite of the horrific scenes you just witnessed. Kroop’s stew is mediocre, but tastes wonderful as hungry as you are. You’re also given your rum rations,
This sadistic bastard. Keelhauling should only be a last resort. Only those that are loosing control of their ship would think this is a suitable punishment for theft. Some lashes, yes, but not a keelhaul
Keeping his face stony, but writhing with sickness over the casual cruelty, Seadreamer watches with disgust. Some of it making its way past his demeanor and showing.
That evening, he picks lightly at his food, and looks around to see who else might be willing to toss scourge, Harrigan, and others overboard when the time is right.
Well that big human for one. I wonder about the the others that were here this morning with me.
Katara drinks the rum - yes, it isn't great, but she likes it anyway. She knows it makes her friendlier, but honestly she doesn't much care: it's mostly about the taste, really, and to forget some of this horrible day.
Joran cuts his vision down toward the deck as Rosie passes him by, not daring to look for he knows better. I am sorry, Rosie. And I promise you, one way or another, they will pay. They will ALL pay. It would be in their best interest to kill me first. If they don't, well, that's on them.
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As he watches Jake get walked to be keelhauled, Joran catches the nod and lets out a slight grin before giving a nod in return that Jake never sees. See you on the other side, Jake. When I get there, I'll tell you the story of how I gave 'em ALL KINDS of hell.
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Completely famished seeing how he's eaten nothing all day, Joran doesn't care and eats and drinks the slop that's in front of him.
Joran looks around the table at the others, wondering who to trust and who not to. Feeling someone looser with his tongue due to the drugs, "Well this sucks. This food is crap. The drink's probably gonna kill us. Name's 'Shark Bait'. I'm quite famous you know and a huge favorite among the officers on this boat. Perhaps you've heard of me?" he asks, chuckling slightly at his own joke before rolling his eyes at himself. "Anyway, the rest of you got names or should I just make something up? I'm pretty good at making up names if you'd rather," he tells them, winking.
Katara tries to sneak around the ship while most eyes are driven to the dinner and leisure of the night. She has some idea of the layout of the ship, and is smart enough to avoid the office quarters for now; she's tempted to do some exploration at the quartermaster's store, but that's probably for another night. She needs to better understand the quartermaster and the rhythm of the shipping before taking such risk. Instead, she pulls herself to go explore the galley and see if she can find anything of value there.
It was a day full of highs and lows. Whatever reassurances she had in her first job all but evaporated by the time the body of Jake Slggs was pulled up from the water. She couldn't even stomach looking at the sight and turned her head away. Whatever crime that man did could not have justified that sort of death. And it was a harsh reminder of what may become of her if she ended up on the wrong side of a job.
That was on her mind as she stared down her drink of rum. Despite the warnings against it, she was a bit of a klutz and didn't feel confident enough to avoid the drink. So she steeled herself and took a swallow.
Maybe Atia had the right idea. Sure her throat feels like it's burning from the inside and she's certain she's going to feel sore the next day, but for a short moment in time she felt invincible. Proud enough to take anyone under her wing. Now she just needed someone to get on their side. That foppish gnome has been checking her out. Perfect. So with a whisper and a woosh of her hands, her face looked slightly more comfortably than usual as she moved to make her move.
When she sat down, it took a bit to straighten up. But she recovered well as she flipped her hair back in place.
"Hello good sir," she giggled. "I'm one of the new recruits and was wondering if you could tell me how things work around here. I would be ever so grateful."
Katara slips into the galley, and can hear Kroop snoring from his quarters on the way. The place is a disaster. Clutter lies all over, and she wonders how the man or his new assistant ever find anything whatsoever.
Searching through the mess, Katara finds a leg. A prosthetic one, thankfully, and one that's decorated with enough silver that it's likely worth a bit of gold, or a decent trade at the quartermaster's store. She saw Kroop earlier, and he has both his legs, so she has no idea who this might have belonged to. The cook is unlikely to miss it, though. She also notices one object mounted on the wall, prominently visible as if Kroop is proud of it, yet still accessible as though it sees some use -- an iron grappling hook attached to 50 feet of silk rope, exquisitely crafted. That would probably be missed if it were to go missing, but Katara files it away as an item of potential interest. Finally, she's able to pocket a small knife. It won't be great for combat, but tools do come in handy -- and in a pinch, it's better than being completely unarmed.
Conchobar smiled at Destinie as she sat across from him. "Ah, well, welcome aboard, dear lady. I do hope the unpleasant business we bore witness to did not disturb you too greatly. Fear not, if you work hard and stay out of trouble, such a fate need never befall you." He winked. "Especially when you have people watching your back." He held his bottle of rum up in toast.
There's not the same level of effort spent on pretending the keel-hauling doesn't bother him. The shock and inherent fear in what happened to poor Jake clearly plays out across Terry's face.
He quietly eats his share of fish stew and drinks his ration of rum.
Looking about at the crew, he sees some social circles forming, btu Terry still doesn't know enough about the dynamic to feel confident he knows who is who, or why. Finally he decides that he needs to try to make nice with someone who looks like they should do well in a fight, but he still looks to the women first. Picking one out as a likely target, he goes to talk to the thin, hard-looking deckhand with the unruly, closer cut hair (Tilly Brackett).
He works his way over to where she's at, points at the deck near her. "Mind too much if I join you?" Assuming she lets him, he'll sit on the deck. "If I'm seeing clearly, that's an interesting tattoo. Along the collarbone, up the neck and onto the face, though, that had to have hurt! Tells me that the reason you got it is important to you. If it isn't too forward, would you share what it means?"
Edit:
"I'm Terry. It has been an unusual day, by far."
Tilly looks up from her stew and nods that Terry is welcome to join her. "Hurt like a b##&+, yeah. It's an ongoing project. Add a leaf to the stem now and then, keep it growing." She seemed disinclined to elaborate on why, but Terry sensed there was more to it. . "Seems like the Captain lucked out catching you in his net. Compared to most of the other fresh faces you seem like you know what you're doing."
"Cheers to that." She clanged the now empty rum glass before making her way towards the group in general.
"'Shark Bait?'" She used the hulking man's shoulder to keep her straight. "Did you fight a shark or something? I could use that in a crew. Name's Destinie, but you can call me Des for short."
Seadreamer heads over to the table Joran is at.
He then quaffs the ration after he sits down.
Damn, my da made better stuff on his ship
He looks over. Seadreamer here, You were scooped up like me?
He picks at his food, while he carries on a conversation for an hour or so until turn in.
Thinking he might be a good one to have when I throw the officers overboard. Preferably after I have chummed the waters like they did.
As Rosie was released Cass gave a look to assess her injuries but was quickly cut off by Jake being brought over. Cass quickly quieted down as she realized that she hadn't fully grasped the true meaning of the bloody hour. Again she tried to divert her gaze but found that as Jake was brought back up she couldn't help but to see what had become of him.
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After the grizzly sight she thought she wouldn't be able to stomach any food but found that she didn't have much of an option so she partook.
"I'm Cass, but that name is starting to feel as distant as the coast is so if you'd like to make something up feel free" she says distantly.
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Quickly after dinner she went to find Rosie again and tried to tend to her wounds. "How bad off is it? if need be I still remember a bit of healing magic from shore." she offers. "I see now more than ever that we need to stick together" she continues "what happened that caused that barbarity?" she finally asked
"Cheers to that." She clanged the now empty rum glass before making her way towards the group in general.
"'Shark Bait?'" She used the hulking man's shoulder to keep her straight. "Did you fight a shark or something? I could use that in a crew. Name's Destinie, but you can call me Des for short."
Grinning as he looks up at her, "Nope. Not yet anyway. Des it is then," he agrees, nodding. "Now how would a good-looking gal such as yourself, end up in a garbage heap like this? You really don't strike me as a pirate. More like, nobility or something," he decides in a matter-of-fact manner, shrugging.
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Seadreamer heads over to the table Joran is at. He then quaffs the ration after he sits down.
Damn, my da made better stuff on his ship
He looks over. Seadreamer here. You were scooped up like me?
He picks at his food, while he carries on a conversation for an hour or so until turn in.Thinking he might be a good one to have when I throw the officers overboard. Preferably after I have chummed the waters like they did.
He then turns his attention to the dwarf. "Seadreamer, huh? Well met. Interesting name for a dwarf. Not your typical name. And yeah, I was... how shall I put this... let's just go with: 'I got sloppy'." He shrugs. "Me and a buddy of mine were at the Maid and he warned me not to go chasing some skirt that was all by herself. Of course, I didn't listen," he confesses, shrugging and shaking his head at the stupidity of it all. "Hey, do me a favor, next time I see him, remind me to punch him in the face for that. I hate it when he's right," he says with a slight grin, giving a wink. "So how'd they snag you, 'Dreamer?"
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After the grizzly sight she thought she wouldn't be able to stomach any food but found that she didn't have much of an option so she partook.
"I'm Cass, but that name is starting to feel as distant as the coast is so if you'd like to make something up feel free" she says distantly.
Shooting his attention toward Cass, he rubs his chin in thought a moment. "Make something up? Okay, I'll work on that. Besides the obvious of being on this deathtrap, something else bothering you, darlin'?" he asks, a curious look about him.
At dinner time, Katara seeks the company of the other ones that just joined the ship with her. She sits with the group, but keeps an eye open for the officers - she's a bit paranoid, and with the attention some of them are gathering, she wants to avoid being "too associated" in case the Captain decides to paint the bottom of the ship with a special tone of young Garundi red.
Nice to meet you all, despite our circumstances... - she finally speaks, shy, giving her best to take courage - My name is Katara. I remember some of you... From the Formidable Maid.
She pauses, looking around, and after she eats a little more rations, she speaks again.
I know it might feel as if fate was cruel with all of us... But I trust Besmara, and she works in mysterious ways. But you know, it's after the storm...
She then picks up a small piece of bread with her left hand, and with her right hand she makes rain over it - of course just small drops, almost no water at all, but still out of thin air. She does it in the stealthier way she can, so that only the small group would see it.
Finally completing, she stops the aquakinesis and just gives a large smile.
... It's after the storm that the sun shines brighter.
Shooting his attention toward Cass, he rubs his chin in thought a moment. "Make something up? Okay, I'll work on that. Besides the obvious of being on this deathtrap, something else bothering you, darlin'?" he asks, a curious look about him.
Cass ponders a moment before offering "Well, I guess I've always let the wind take me where it wanted but I always had a guide before." She says "I could see glimpses of the future in Harrowings from my folks deck, but now that they" She gestures towards the officers table "took that I'm just" she falters for a moment before finishing "Just lost. Lost at sea with a starless sky offering no means to find familiar water."
At dinner time, Katara seeks the company of the other ones that just joined the ship with her. She sits with the group, but keeps an eye open for the officers - she's a bit paranoid, and with the attention some of them are gathering, she wants to avoid being "too associated" in case the Captain decides to paint the bottom of the ship with a special tone of young Garundi red.
Nice to meet you all, despite our circumstances... - she finally speaks, shy, giving her best to take courage - My name is Katara. I remember some of you... From the Formidable Maid.
She pauses, looking around, and after she eats a little more rations, she speaks again.
I know it might feel as if fate was cruel with all of us... But I trust Besmara, and she works in mysterious ways. But you know, it's after the storm...
She then picks up a small piece of bread with her left hand, and with her right hand she makes rain over it - of course just small drops, almost no water at all, but still out of thin air. She does it in the stealthier way she can, so that only the small group would see it.
[dice=Stealth]1d20+7
Finally completing, she stops the water kinesis and just gives a large smile.
... It's after the storm that the sun shines brighter.
Looking curiously over at the young woman, "Katara. Good to meet you, Katara. Yeah, sure, I'll go with Fate. That's just a good a reason as any I guess," he surmises, shrugging.
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Cass ponders a moment before offering "Well, I guess I've always let the wind take me where it wanted but I always had a guide before." She says "I could see glimpses of the future in Harrowings from my folks deck, but now that they" She gestures towards the officers table "took that I'm just" she falters for a moment before finishing "Just lost. Lost at sea with a starless sky offering no means to find familiar water."
Nodding in understanding, he rubs his chin in thought a moment. Returning from his reverie, he leans in and lowers his voice. "Don't you worry, darlin', you just hang in there. Some how, some way, an opportunity is going to come and you'll be getting your stuff back and we're going to be getting off this rig," he vows, looking to them all and continuing with, "ALL of us. Well, those that actually want to leave. I don't know how, I don't know when, but when the time comes, I'll know. You know how I'll know? Because that wench we call 'Fate' owes me one," he glances over at Katara and shoots her a wink before leaning back out. "We just have to keep our nose clean until that time," he says, thinking back on his colossal failure in the bilges before muttering, "Especially me."
Even Atia's stoicism in the face of cruelty had a hard time with the results of the keelhauling. Her stomach roils at the sight of the corpse and when they are given leave, she scurries away to help dish out the dinner stew.
Atia readily downs the rum ration, relishing the mediocre liquor's warming effect and the relaxation she finally feels. She waves to Tilly as she passes by, offering the woman an awkward smile and sits with the others who were press-ganged with her. She languishes in her seat, an easy smile playing across her lips: an effect of the rum rations, no doubt. Despite the ease she feels, she still does not feel overly comfortable approaching the more established crew.
At Joran's address, she inclines her head politely and answers: "I am Atia. Pleasure to meet you, Shark Bait." She offers a small smile to the rest of them. "I hope to improve the food a tad when I've finished scouring the rest of the galley, for what it's worth. It's a miracle the crew isn't dead of food-borne illness." She grimaces, her mind racing through the long list of things she needed to accomplish the next day.
Good to meet ya' too... Shark bait. - she pronounces with awkwardness, a little shy, before turning to the wizard.
Atia is a beautiful name! - says Katara, recognizing the woman which brought her food before - Pity you hadn't cooked the one today, but hopefully ya' have a talent for it. T'was the top of my day to be able to stop working a bit tah' fill me belly! Where do you come from? Can't imagine you're from anywhere in the Shackles.
Atia readily downs the rum ration, relishing the mediocre liquor's warming effect and the relaxation she finally feels. She waves to Tilly as she passes by, offering the woman an awkward smile and sits with the others who were press-ganged with her. She languishes in her seat, an easy smile playing across her lips: an effect of the rum rations, no doubt. Despite the ease she feels, she still does not feel overly comfortable approaching the more established crew.
At Joran's address, she inclines her head politely and answers: "I am Atia. Pleasure to meet you, Shark Bait." She offers a small smile to the rest of them. "I hope to improve the food a tad when I've finished scouring the rest of the galley, for what it's worth. It's a miracle the crew isn't dead of food-borne illness." She grimaces, her mind racing through the long list of things she needed to accomplish the next day.
Narrowing his eyes in vague recognition, "Oh yeah, I remember you now. The 'volunteer' cook lady. Well met to you, Atia. And I don't think it's possible to make the food here any worse. So improving it ought to be a piece of cake. I believe you could literally screw up the entire recipe and it would still taste better than the garbage this guy is feeding us. By the way, is it garbage he's feeding us? Like... literally?" he asks, appearing quite serious.
To Joran: "No. The man is just piss-drunk the majority of the time. There are live animals roaming the galley and thick layers of filth all over everything." Atia grimaces again. "I plan to scour the place and find a way to keep the animals contained. I've been told the fastest way to anyone's heart is through their stomach, so an improvement on our meals will be nice. However, do keep in mind what I said when I volunteered: I am not trained in this, but I am a competent and quick learner. Do not expect miracles." Atia is very matter of fact as she says this. "I imagine much of our food woes also has to do with the quality of material being hoarded by the upper echelon on the ship." She gestures vaguely towards the Captain's quarters area, absently finishing off the stew.
To Katara: "I am from Egorian, the capital of Cheliax."
The oracle pointed at him accusingly. "Ha! You'd think so. But I spent much of my life swindling others for a living. I especially faked her job." She pointed towards Cassandra. "At least... I used to." At that point, she managed to sober up a bit as she sat down to keep herself steady.
Shaking her head, she waved off Atia's complaints. "It'd be better than what I'm used to. You look like someone who can learn off the fly."
Quickly after dinner she went to find Rosie again and tried to tend to her wounds. "How bad off is it? if need be I still remember a bit of healing magic from shore." she offers. "I see now more than ever that we need to stick together" she continues "what happened that caused that barbarity?" she finally asked
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (3) + 11 = 14
There weren't a lot of private places on a ship, Rosie had made do by returning to her hammock area. Her blouse had been torn and stained by the blood, and she was painfully easing out of it. "You got healing powers? I won't say no, s*+$ hurts like hell." She had three deep cuts from the whip across her back.
"I made a mistake is what f~%&ing happened. I was supposed to show the new big a+*@!@% how to run the bilges and the f!+&er broke the pump. If I had stayed with him we might've fixed it but the son of a b!!!% told me he had it covered." She sighed. "I'm not even mad at him, really. He was just trying to be nice. I should have stayed anyway. I hope Scourge and Plugg f#$#ing choke at dinner tonight."
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Sandara wanders over to the party and gives a little smile that's almost a touch shy, having not met most of you yet. Her hands were behind her back, holding something. "Don't mind me, I don't mean to cut in. Just wanted to say, you folks had a rough first day. I had a few favors to cash in, and I asked Grok if they'd gotten anything especially interesting off you lot." She pulled brought her hands around and was holding a package wrapped in canvas. "It's not much, and it's only a couple things, but I hope they help. She wouldn't give me any of your weapons, said you were unknown quantities and might do something stupid with them."
Unfolding the canvas revealed Atia's spellbook and Cass's harrow deck in its case.
Atia takes the spellbook from Sandara reverently, looking up at the woman with awe. "Thank you so much. I was so worried that my years of work were going to end up being for nothing." She hugs the spellbook to her chest and then tucks it carefully between her legs in her lap, trying to keep it as protected as possible. "Would you sit with us, Sandara?" Atia smiles what she believes is her best smile and gestures to an empty space invitingly.
To Joran: "No. The man is just piss-drunk the majority of the time. There are live animals roaming the galley and thick layers of filth all over everything." Atia grimaces again. "I plan to scour the place and find a way to keep the animals contained. I've been told the fastest way to anyone's heart is through their stomach, so an improvement on our meals will be nice. However, do keep in mind what I said when I volunteered: I am not trained in this, but I am a competent and quick learner. Do not expect miracles." Atia is very matter of fact as she says this. "I imagine much of our food woes also has to do with the quality of material being hoarded by the upper echelon on the ship." She gestures vaguely towards the Captain's quarters area, absently finishing off the stew.
Chuckling, "Not to worry. I truly believe if you were blind and missing both of your arms, I'd wager you'd still do a better job than the cook on this ship," he tells her, grinning.
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Sandara wanders over to the party and gives a little smile that's almost a touch shy, having not met most of you yet. Her hands were behind her back, holding something. "Don't mind me, I don't mean to cut in. Just wanted to say, you folks had a rough first day. I had a few favors to cash in, and I asked Grok if they'd gotten anything especially interesting off you lot." She pulled brought her hands around and was holding a package wrapped in canvas. "It's not much, and it's only a couple things, but I hope they help. She wouldn't give me any of your weapons, said you were unknown quantities and might do something stupid with them."
Unfolding the canvas revealed Atia's spellbook and Cass's harrow deck in its case.
As his attention snaps to the redhead that just walked in, he finds himself taken aback. My gosh! How many good-looking women does this boat have?! Are you kidding me?!
Arising from his seat, he catches sight of the harrow deck the witch was speaking about. Turning his attention to Cass, he gives her a nod. "What did I tell you? Opportunity. One step at a time," he winks.
He then turns his attention to Sandara sporting a million dollar smile. "Hello there, gorgeous. I don't believe we've met. Name's Joran. Come here often?" he jokes, winking. "I hope not because this place sucks," he deadpans, yet, still bearing a slight smile while shrugging. Moving out of the way in case she decides to take up Atia's offer, "Yeah, stay and sit a spell; but not if it's gonna get you keelhauled. You never know with the lot on this ship," he remarks, the irritation obvious. He quickly shakes it off and reverses back, re-sporting that smile. "Anyway, so, what's a gal like you doing in a place like this? There's no way in the Nine Hells it's because of the scenery," he grins.
Cheliax? - she says, thoughtful - Oh, it makes me feel how little 'aye know 'bout the world. Ya' know Jack, the young lad which was by me as you approached b'fore? His adoptive father is... Was... Chelish too. Well, not really adoptive father, but someone he cherished. Maybe you two would like to talk!
She doesn't extend much more the conversation. Sandara approaches with some items from Atia and Cassandra, so Katara just gives her a smile and leaves her be, turning her attention to Terry, nearby. She limits to take mind annotations about the items she has, and who they belong to.
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The kineticist turns to Terry with eyes of curiosity. Maybe the rum is already making its effect, but she feels as if she is already smiling too much.
So... Terry, right? I saw how fast ya' climbed the mast. - she's brief to follow up - What's yar' story, mate? It feels as if you had don' it before!
The Garundi stops speaking to give him space to talk. If any of the new ones have prior experience, this would be a nice and welcome surprise.
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Katara analyses the leg and saves it, together with the knife - one never knows when it might be useful. She leaves the hook and rope behind; this might be something for a different day, but she's glad to know it's here. She leaves for bed after the night activities to get rest.
"Oh yeah. She's the one who helped me with the ropes earlier today. I probably would have fared a lot worse without her," she smiled.
To Joran, she winced awkwardly. "I'm actually from Riddleport. If you know about Varisia, they have a good number of pirates there too. But I'm not from that flock. Neither am I from royalty."
"Honestly I've no idea what I'd want to do if we ever had the ship wrested from the hands of these tyrants. my folks were pirates back a bit so maybe I'd like to try it if that's what the fates want for me."
"Damn, can't say I'm too surprised they'd pull something like that, seems like he's got a chip on his shoulder and would have worn a beating of his own like a badge" She says as she examines the wounds
"ତୁମର ମାଂସ ସୁଧାରିବାକୁ ଦିଅ" she incants out as she lays her palm on the lacerations
"Any better?" she asks before stating "We should probably head back to the group don't want our absence to be noticed by anyone who'd take it up to the officers"
Cass walks back to the table with Rosie and sits right as Sandara arrives. When she unwraps the book and deck Cass looks with disbelief for a moment before Joran's comment brings her back down from the sky's to the deck of the ship "huh, I guess sometimes all you have to do is hold out." she looks up to Sandara and pauses for a moment trying to figure out if this is some kind of trick for a moment on deciding that it isn't she says "Thank you so much for this, you've given me more than words can express truly." in an extraordinarily earnest tone.
After going though the deck she then offers "Well, now that I'm whole again anyone care for a glance at their future?"
Lo and behold, the oracle couldn't help but gaze into the deck of cards. "I always wished I was able to do harrowings. We had a few people who could do that where I'm from," she grinned... then shifted her feet a bit.
"If you don't mind. It's not often you can get a harrowing for free."
N Hammer The Bear
NE Star The Mute Hag
LG Star The Winged Serpent
CE Hammer The Cyclone
CE Book The Snakebite
CN Shields Inverse The Mountain Man
NG Shields The Survivor
CN Stars Inverse The Carnival
CN Keys The Rabbit Prince
Cass has already started laying out her harrowing mat as she says "well, best to start off free that way you get them hooked!" sarcastically well she takes her deck and washes them on the table. She seems visibly more carefree as though she's been reunited with an old friend. as she reassembles the deck she shuffles it 7 times before offering it to Destinie to cut "One must take control of their own fate to get a true reading!" she says as Destinie cuts it.
"For this Harrowing I'll lay our three paths, each on top of the other, they can be different paths to take or different immediacies of time or ways of looking at the same path.
She then reveals the first card and places it to the top right facing Destinie, the card depicts a large brown bear standing resolutely facing a hoard of hunters. "Interesting, you've often found yourself opposing those you thought you could trust in the past and doing things you never would have thought yourself capable of. that's what got you here isn't it?" She starts as she pulls the next card.
As Cass places it down to the right of the bear it reveals a deep blue sunken face holding an eye in its mouth. "To overcome those you may need to delve deeper into these unfamiliar and revolting things and places." she starts "Often the Mute Hag can represent blood pacts but really any secrets that are best left forgotten can be seen in it."
"But she starts as she flips a third card a flash of colors can be seen in the wings of a couatl. "Should you get through it you will be able to unify the knowledge of both sides of the dark path and your history"
She shifts down to a second series placing a new card depicting a deep black tornado with a face of crackling flame peaking through when she sees this card she chuckles softly before explaining "This path looks to be a bit more immediate. the Cyclone represents the destructive seemingly unstoppable forces laid out by plotters." She chuckles again and looks pointedly towards the officers quarters "A sort of force that might upend all of our lives and bring us together"
even as she finished that thought she flips the next card revealing a dagger sculpted like a serpents fang dripping with poison "I'm betting you can guess what the fates want us to do to overcome it from here." She says "The snakebite is poison used in assassinations causing discord."
"Which will lead us to?" she starts as she flips a card depicting a hill giant of massive scale carrying a crocodile however it lays in inverse. "The mountain man in inverse, they seem to think we will become a force of nature to rival the greats, normally it would be outside our control but in this case I think the inverse indicates that we will wrestle control."
"Finally" She says as she places a card depicting a seated figure that looks exhausted surrounded by fallen soldiers under the cyclone. "We see that you have become the Survivor persevering though the ordeals of your past, both distant and..." She falters for a moment looking to the chest where Jakes remains were stowed, "more ... recent"
"You will fight though..." a card is laid in inverse showing a carnival mirror reflecting a distorted face that looks almost uncannily like Cass. "A madhouse" She stops for a moment looking around at the hull of the ship "Upright it would be of falsehoods but here in inverse I think its the horrors of this new world."
"And then you can become" she flips the ninth and final card. it shows a Rabbit wearing a crown and wielding a broken sword "The Rabbit Prince. An unlikely ruler."
"An interesting but hopeful reading to be sure!" She says leaving the cards out for a few minutes.
To Joran, she winced awkwardly. "I'm actually from Riddleport. If you know about Varisia, they have a good number of pirates there too. But I'm not from that flock. Neither am I from royalty."
"Heard of it but I've never been there. Not exactly sure where that is on the map either. I'm guessing it's not too far from here seeing how you're here now. It's possible they could've just swung that way and nabbed you. Wouldn't surprise me. A rig short on crew - which is not surprising the way they kill their crew for the smallest thing - turns desperate and does whatever they've got to do to acquire more," he concludes, shrugging.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
"Honestly I've no idea what I'd want to do if we ever had the ship wrested from the hands of these tyrants. My folks were pirates back a bit so maybe I'd like to try it if that's what the fates want for me."
Waving her off, "Nah! You needn't worry about that, I think you'll do fine whatever it is," he tells her, giving a firm nod.
As the cards were drawn, she couldn't help but feel like they had her pegged. Some of it did get her nervous (especially the first card), but she accepted the readings with a nod. "It looks like the cards think we're made for something greater," she responded. "But who would be the new ruler?"
At Joran's request, she signed. "I was caught here. I was moving away from Riddleport and hoped to reach somewhere I could start fresh. The boat kicked me out at Port Peril and that's how I ended up at the tavern I got caught in."
Seadreamer also stands when Sandara arrives.
But listens to the stories as the night goes on.
When the offer of a harrowing comes up, he comments.
I suggest that you do this fast ladies, we don't want upcountry to come in and see you with your deck, or her with her book.
He then turns his attention to Sandara sporting a million dollar smile. "Hello there, gorgeous. I don't believe we've met. Name's Joran. Come here often?" he jokes, winking. "I hope not because this place sucks," he deadpans, yet, still bearing a slight smile while shrugging. Moving out of the way in case she decides to take up Atia's offer, "Yeah, stay and sit a spell; but not if it's gonna get you keelhauled. You never know with the lot on this ship," he remarks, the irritation obvious. He quickly shakes it off and reverses back, re-sporting that smile. "Anyway, so, what's a gal like you doing in a place like this? There's no way in the Nine Hells it's because of the scenery," he grins.
Sandara smiles an accepts Atia's offer to sit, then gives Joran a bemused smile and looks around the table. "Did this guy really just use the two cheesiest pick up lines in existence, back to back, while in the bowels of a pirate ship?" She laughed good-naturedly, then addresses his question. "I ended up here the way all of you did, a bit over a week ago. Seems to be the Captain's favored method of recruitment. Takes a large crew to run a ship this big, and we were running close to the wire when he scooped all of you up."
She watched the harrowing with interest and nodded to Seadreamer. "As long as Scourge or Plugg don't see them, it'll be fine, more than likely. We're allowed to trade for things with Grok, and most of these folks probably can't read enough to tell the difference between that and a storybook," she indicated Atia's spell tome. "One of the officers is a wizard, probably best to keep that away from her attention. And like I said, our magnanimous overlords would probably take them just to be bullies. But it's not like you stole them. As for the cards, some of them are superstitious, and might not like a fortune teller very much -- but others would probably just pe\ster you for a reading of their own." she shrugged.
Terry had been sitting back, listening, letting the others all talk about what they will, when one of the women turned her attention to him.
"Aye. well, that's because I have done this before." He flicks his left eartip with a finger. "If you think about it, you know we don't grow old quite as fast as pure humans."
Were he human, he looks like he might be around 17.
"I've been on ships since I was younger than I should have been. Close to 7 years, now, I think. But I really AM from Quent, and grew up surrounded by sailors and learning about sailing my entire life." He hesitates and glances around a bit before continuing. "This ship is toxic. I was looking to sign on to a new ship when they grabbed us. We have to get out from under these particular thumbs, or we will be killed, either as entertainment or because we are perceived as threats. No one will be immune to those concerns for long."
He leans back and drops into a more casual tone, though you don't think he really changed topics. "From what I've seen and heard, a solid pirate crew lets the Captain lead, but the Captain's authority is granted by the crew and if a Captain he doesn't make the crew the money they expect he gets replaced, normally without bloodshed. Merchant vessels and Naval fleets, of course, are more structured, with the authority coming from without."
It is hard to miss how quickly and completely Terry turns his back as the Harrow Cards come out.
Terry is all smiles as he responds to her comments about Joran. "The man isn't really subtle, Lass. But he seems to understand what needs to happen, and clearly knows what he would like to have happen!" the young half-elf winks at her as he says the last bit. "He could be a very powerful force if he continues taking that assigned nickname to heart, and uses it as a weapon."
"I'm honestly glad to see you survived the first day relatively unharmed. Same for all of us, actually, but you seem unusually, thoroughly unprepared for this life. I can't do much from the rigging to directly help you in the kitchen, but if you can think of anything, ask."
"Actually, that offer extends around. We are the only ones who are going to see to our survival and well-being. Making friends will help, and can grow the circle, but this little closed village is all we have to work with. You can get very lonely, and very isolated on a ship. Neither lends to a long, healthy life."
I agree with what Terry is stating.
I grew up on merchanters, but have been down on my luck since my fathers ship went down.
A ships capt'n is only as good as the crew of his ship. One that uses terror and brutality to maintain control, has lost the right to lead.
However, we should not get ahead of ourselves, else we find us on the mizzen feeding the ravens.
Sandara smiles an accepts Atia's offer to sit, then gives Joran a bemused smile and looks around the table. "Did this guy really just use the two cheesiest pick up lines in existence, back to back, while in the bowels of a pirate ship?" She laughed good-naturedly, then addresses his question. "I ended up here the way all of you did, a bit over a week ago. Seems to be the Captain's favored method of recruitment. Takes a large crew to run a ship this big, and we were running close to the wire when he scooped all of you up."
Joran can't help but laugh and nod, pointing and winking at the nice catch. "Well at the rate their going with killing the crew off, he's gonna have to kidnap more."
Terry is all smiles as he responds to her comments about Joran. "The man isn't really subtle, Lass. But he seems to understand what needs to happen, and clearly knows what he would like to have happen!" the young half-elf winks at her as he says the last bit. "He could be a very powerful force if he continues taking that assigned nickname to heart, and uses it as a weapon."
Chuckling at the ridiculous half-elf, "You're pretty funny. For one, I am standing RIGHT here. You don't have to speak as if I'm not here. And for another, I still don't get why you think a 'nickname' is that powerful. It's not the 'nickname' that has the power, it's the strength of the heart within the man that has any power. The nickname is just a moniker. Doesn't matter if the nickname is, 'Dumb-dumb' or 'Oaf'. It's just a matter of being confident in who YOU are and not what the nickname is. You know, for someone who says he's spent most of life on a boat - by the way, so have I - you might want to rethink these so-called 'words of wisdom' or whatever you think they are. Sounds a tiny bit rookie-ish to me. You'll catch up, though, I know you will," he winks, grinning.
I grew up on merchanters, but have been down on my luck since my fathers ship went down.
A ships capt'n is only as good as the crew of his ship. One that uses terror and brutality to maintain control, has lost the right to lead.
However, we should not get ahead of ourselves, else we find us on the mizzen feeding the ravens.
Nodding, "You're right about that, 'Dreamer."
The signs were there, but she wasn't sure what it meant just yet. So she asked Terry a question. "Where exactly is Quent? A good number of us aren't from the Shackles after all."
She nods at Joran's piece of advice. "That... does seem like something we should do. There are a few good people, but for the most part they look suspicious. But it's not like I'm used to having friends anyways." she admitted.
After the reading Cass comes off of her high and hesitates a moment only noticing Terry's apparent discomfort after finishing, she pauses seeming almost ashamed and stows her deck she then tries to discreetly find a moment apart from the others with Terry
assuming Terry doesn't avoid this she then offers "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable with my reading if you'd like in the future I can avoid doing that in front of you." sheepishly her gaze somewhat downcast
As Cass returns to the table she notices the conversation moving on towards the water of friends as allies and pipes in quieter than before "Well, I think it'd be rather hard to be on this ship and not want to change the totem pole, I think starting off looking at folks at the bottom of that pole may get us a few interested"
Aye, that sounds good, but I think we should take our time. However, I have no real skill in swaying people to agree with me. But get me with my axes while I breathe I will not let us down.
He finishes the spiked rum and states that morning will come early, and that we should hit the hammocks.
At Joran's request, she signed. "I was caught here. I was moving away from Riddleport and hoped to reach somewhere I could start fresh. The boat kicked me out at Port Peril and that's how I ended up at the tavern I got caught in."
"Ah, I see. That actually makes a lot of sense. Well, here's to fresher days ahead then." He raises his mug and nods before drinking down the last of the disgusting liquid.
As Cass returns to the table she notices the conversation moving on towards the water of friends as allies and pipes in quieter than before "Well, I think it'd be rather hard to be on this ship and not want to change the totem pole, I think starting off looking at folks at the bottom of that pole may get us a few interested"
Aye, that sounds good, but I think we should take our time. However, I have no real skill in swaying people to agree with me. But get me with my axes while I breathe I will not let us down.
He finishes the spiked rum and states that morning will come early, and that we should hit the hammocks.
Nodding at them both, "I agree as well. And like 'Dreamer said: Remain on guard with who you're speaking with... you just never know."
Oh, that's sum'thing right there! - she says, admired with the young man's experience - 'Ya know, if you were looking ta' sign for a ship, then don't fret about this one. Things may always change from night ta' day, right? Maybe Besmara will show us a path we can't even see now.
She approaches, yet not beyond an arm of distance.
We can all help each other. I mean, I can't see how 'aye could be of use to anyone, but still. - she is a lot more sincere than she'd like to be - But 'tis great to be able to count with you. We gotta stick together if we're all in tha' bottom of the barrel.
She then turns to Destinie.
... And if I may intrude, I agree with you, mate. 'Tis easy to grab ourselves to a feelin' of trust, when in truth we don't know who's surrounding us. - brief pause - But looking at the fact we seem ta' be on the same boat, literally and figut... Figur... I mean, literally and non literally, then ta' Terry's point, we should at least try to count with each other.
Finally, she reaches in to touch Seadreamer's arm.
I hope I can accompany ya, mate. 'Tis a bit late for me as well, and if yar' good with tha' blades, then I hope ya' can get me safe to the hammocks even without one in your hands. - she gives him a smile, proceeding to greet the others a good night.
Atia leans back in her chair, the alcohol affecting her quite a bit between her slight build and relative inexperience with baser alcohols. She smiles slightly at Terry after he comments on her being thoroughly unprepared and nods.
"I had really imagined my first stint on this type of vessel to be a little more on my terms, but I am quite adaptable."
The declarations of camaraderie left her feeling rather heartened, and she adds in: "Whatever I can do, I shall...I am better with things that are more academic and arcane. I am not good at swaying people. For now, I can try my best to make the food taste a bit better. We would do well to remain subtle for the moment. Try to win people over." She eyes Joran while saying the last bit about subtlety, her eyebrow cocked.
She stands unsteadily, reaching for the nearest bit of furniture or person to keep herself from falling, and then smiles at them all. "I'm off to sleep as well. Lots of work to be done in the kitchens."
Atia will sleep with her spellbook tucked underneath her with the intention of trying to find a safe place to keep it during the next day.
"Nah, Mate, I see you clear enough. You seemed to be avoiding acknowledging I was even here, so I figured I would provide you the courtesy of ignoring you back. Just trying to give you what you seem to want."
"And names grow and carry weight the wearer never gave them. Knowing how people respond to names that swell like that isn't rookie-ish, or however you want to say it. Pretending that names don't grow to be larger than the person they are tied to, though, that's a mistake. It gives the person using the name an advantage. Take what advantage you can get, and build it as large as you can, and things will go easier later, normally."
"Besides simply being home, Quent is the best port in The Shackles! Largest, calmest, protected bay. Lots of real, long-term businesses set up to cover trade and disposal of booty. Yeah, Port Peril's bigger, but that is about the only advantage it can claim over Quent. Quent is ruled by one of the most powerful Pirate Lords in The Shackles, Tessa Fairwind. Maybe you've heard of her? Red-haired, green-eyed half-elven beauty equally famous for her fun-loving ways and her ability to destroy those who challenge her?" With absolutely zero subtlety, Terry shakes his head, waving his red hair, and tries to lock his green eyes with your own while he discusses Tessa . . ..
He looks you in the eyes, taking an almost aggressive stance while facing you for this exchange. "People spent a lot of energy telling me my fate while I was small. They were all wrong. I refuse to accept the idea that someone else can tell me where I'm headed, what I can accomplish, because if I accept they can, then I accept whatever limits they assign me. I refuse to accept those boundaries as binding. Both Besmara and Calistria are going to help me push beyond what others think are my limits. Watch and see, but don't try asking for a glimpse of my future."
"Well, we should all work to make friends as best we can. Talking only goes so far in that regard. Doing can make a friend that talking won't. But you're all right. They'll be rolling us out of the hammocks far earlier than we want. Should head for bed."