"To treasure!" the navigator intones sedately.
"To treasure!" cries a middle-aged, distinguished looking dwarf. You recognize him as the blacksmith who fired the cannon earlier.
"To treasure!" cries a younger, unassuming man with a thin, wispy moustache and facial hair so insubstantial it's difficult to determine he's unshaven.
"To treasure!", cheers a tanned and well-muscled man in his mid thirties.
Noting your questioning looks, he nods and introduces himself.
"I'm the cooper. I make, seal, and maintain barrels. Even with this fancy larder, it's still a crucial skill."
He nods at the young man next to him.
"This is Stennis Folari. He's the sailmaker, and key to this whole shindig. One day, Akarna willing, he might even grow a beard."
"So, you can sing, ma'am?" the sailmaker asks hesitantly, absorbing the cooper's joshing with a wan smile.
"Sing? I want to know if she can dance!" chortles a rakish dwarf as he enters the room and grabs a seat.
"I'm the gunner, Gunnar, and a strong believer in nominative determinism." The dwarf laughs at his own joke.
He nods at a halfling man dressed in leather who enters on his heels.
"This is Thaddrick Lightfoot, my assistant."
Syper produces a fiddle. "So, Jaym'row, shall we perform?"
"Pleased to meet you all," he says with a distant look in his eye.
He spots Syper's fiddle and a faint smile tugs at the corners of his lips.
"This should be interesting," he says softly.
He notes the cigar in Gunnar's mouth and clucks his tongue.
"Of all the people on the ship to smoke..." he tuts.
"To treasure!" cries Snekki, belatedly.
Okoteck joins in the toast, but his heart isn't in the shout. He understands the importance of money, but he's never found it alluring.
"I am Okoteck Tomu," he says, "And to avoid making you wait for the entertainment, I'll say only that I agree with Gideon in that the mystery of our destination has captured my imagination as well."
Syper produces a fiddle. "So, Jaym'row, shall we perform?"
Jaym'row does not need to be asked twice. She draws her fiddle as well and stands opposite Syper and starts a jaunty jig and responds with counterpart when Syper joins in. Eventually, she starts a stomping rhythm for the crew to carry on pounding their plates and spoons on the table or stomping their feet or both.
Then she starts singing the following words, encouraging all who know it to join in. Syper takes the 2nd verse and they both sing the third, and on and on it goes.
♪♫ I am not a pirate, but I long to be,
Sailing by the stars across the seven seas,
Living with no earthly cares, my mates and me—
The envy of all worldly men, who are not free.
♪♫ A song to sing for beggars, a song to sing for saints,
A song to sing for wealthy men all wrapped and bound in chains!
Our treasure's not in gold, or in our piety.
Our wealth is in an answered call, the longing of the sea!
♪♫ Stormy oceans carry us to lands we've never known,
To mysteries and buried secrets from the tales of old.
So hoist the sail and raise the flag, we do not stop for night.
We'll ride the wild winds and waves until the morning's light!
♪♫In smuggler's caves and tavern halls, we live by no man's rules.
We fly the colors of the living, free and proud and true!
We set out on the ocean blue to escape tyranny.
We'll keep our merry hearts alive so long we roam the sea.
She continues more verses as long as the crew wants her to sing.
I am not a pirate, but I long to be,
Sailing by the stars across the seven seas,
Living with no earthly cares, my mates and me—
The envy of all worldly men, who are not free.
A song to sing for beggars, a song to sing for saints,
A song to sing for wealthy men all wrapped and bound in chains!
Our treasure's not in gold, or in our piety.
Our wealth is in an answered call, the longing of the sea!
Stormy oceans carry us to lands we've never known,
To mysteries and buried secrets from the tales of old.
So hoist the sail and raise the flag, we do not stop for night.
We'll ride the wild winds and waves until the morning's light!
In smuggler's caves and tavern halls, we live by no man's rules.
We fly the colors of the living, free and proud and true!
We set out on the ocean blue to escape tyranny.
We'll keep our merry hearts alive so long we roam the sea.
A man once walked along the shore, and called he out to me,
"I see you are a fisherman, a lover of the sea.
I know this world's a wretched place, but if you'll follow me
I'll take all of your burdens... and pirates we shall be!"
Yo ho, yo ho!
Hope is now before us, and misery at aft.
We could not care the lesser for the men who say, "You're daft!"
So let the howling winds blow in and take hold of the mast.
Release the wheel and all your sins, for you are free at last!
"Swab the deck, my clever lad, and listen close to me.
Learn my ways, and soon one day a captain you shall be.
Climb the rigging, mount the nest, and say, what can you see?"
"A fleet upon the starboard side... in battle we shall meet!"
"Load the cannons, raise the flag, and take hold of your heart!
A proper man of courage does not flee before the start.
Do not fear when death is near, when doom is night at hand.
Your end marks the beginning of a life in fairer lands!"
All day the battle rages, and on into the night.
With clashing swords and pistol shots, upon the decks we fight!
We match our wits and cannonballs with the finest of their fleet.
Their admiral walks the plank in the shame of his defeat.
So raise a drink to plunder, and lift a toast for spoils.
Cheer good men - in bravery, the enemy we've foiled!
Pour another round and we will sing a song of joy.
When next we make our port the folk will say, "Victors—ahoy!"
We moor upon an isle of wealthy fools and knaves
Who drink all night and sleep all day on the labor of their slaves.
When the sun has set, we break off all their chains
And share with them our plunder, and now free men they are made!
We hole up in the tavern with our new crewmen and mates.
Soon those rich folks come a calling for their run aways!
The barman sends them off with ale, saying, "Go, drink your sway!"
But when the rest have gone, one aging wealthy man does stay.
"I was once a young lad, sailing by the charts.
I did not savor wind, nor water, nor admire the stars.
Now I have grown old and frail, and do not journey far.
I only long to sail the seas once more to find my heart."
Well, come aboard and voyage long, we make for unmapped shores.
Ride the stormy seas with us, you'll find that soul of yourn.
Leave your wealth behind you, and your bitter scorn.
Make your home with slaves and sinners—then you'll be reborn.
Yo ho, yo ho!
Her fiddle was not in tune and the acoustics were awful.
A heretofore quiet aiuvarin man in nondescript workman's attire nods along to the song while the other crew clap their hands and stomp their feet. After the rest of them congratulate her on her performance, the previously silent elfspawn strides up to her and says in a low, mellifluous voice,
"I have some rosin for that bow that will work much better than what you're using. Spruce tends to be a bit tinny in humid weather otherwise."
He hands Jay'mrow a small tin of rosin.
"Nice work!"
The surgeon congratulates Jaym'row, then gives a small "Ah!" of recollection.
"The captain instructed me to give each of you emergency healing elixirs. I'll be right back with the requisite materiel."
He hops to his feet and strides out of the room.
As the crew finishes their lunch, he returns and hands each party member two minor elixir(s) of life.
"These will heal wounds rapidly in a pinch, as well as ward off poisons and disease. Don't hesitate to use them in a fight."
"To treasure!" Jade had joined in with the toast.
She sings along with Jaym'row and Syper's song with far more enthusiasm than talent.
"Thanks, Doc," she says to Gideon when he hands her the potions. "Did the captain say what we were supposed to be doing after lunch and getting our elixirs from you? I'd like to go abovedecks and feel the wind and watch the waves."
The surgeon pauses for a moment, head cocked in thought.
"He did not," responds Klotrich. "Though I'm sure someone with your talents will come in handy, even if you're not powerful enough to propel the entire ship out of a dead calm by yourself... yet."
Spying Okoteck in the corner, he strides over and inquires politely, "So you're a tengu? As an anatomist of eclectic breadth, I couldn't help but notice that your bone structure seems even lighter than usual for one of your race."
The aiuvarin smiles at Jaym'row and introduces himself.
"I'm Elendriel Malorn, the carpenter. I perform essential repairs on the ship, and stay out of everyone's way when I'm not needed."
He chuckles softly and continues.
"There aren't many elves in Eredorn, but my mother was one of them, and she taught me elven woodcraft to pass the time and make coin."
"She went back home when it became clear that she would outlive me," he adds, faintly melancholy.
He sighs and says, "I suppose she wanted to make sure that she would have forgotten me when my time came to pass."
He brightens and continues, "I met and became friends with the quartermaster due to our mutual fascination with elven culture. When she asked me to come, I gladly agreed. If you start to get sick of elven food, blame her; she's the one who ordered so much of it."
Okoteck accepts the healing elixirs with a quiet thanks, then cocks his head to one side at Gideon's question. "The call of the sky is stronger for some tengu than others, you might say," he responds. "Though we're enough generations removed from our legendary past that it is hard to know if it is anything more than legend, some tengu have a natural proclivity towards the magics of air and flight, and a matching light build. I am one such."
And, of course, searching out old tengu magics and lore was one of his many passions, but he didn't see any reason to bring that up at present.
Kork hums pats the table to the rhythm of the performance. Sometimes, he pats the mess he made with the food, and decides to lick the remainder off table and dry the rest with a cloth.
"Thanks!" grabs the potion with a gratuitous smile. "This one be Kork." he points to himself. "Kork travel, tell stories, and collect things." he flashes the inside of his coat again, revealing the amalgamation of various trinkets, metal pieces, wooden pieces, some bones, jewellery past its prime, and preserved bodyparts of various vermin. With a quick movement of hands, the potion joins the collection.
He slowly inches towards Okoteck. "Uh, can be rude, but... can Kork have three feathers?"
After a short pause, he adds "If possible, not black?" and offers a friendly grin in return.
A heretofore quiet aiuvarin man in nondescript workman's attire nods along to the song while the other crew clap their hands and stomp their feet. After the rest of them congratulate her on her performance, the previously silent elfspawn strides up to her and says in a low, mellifluous voice,
"I have some rosin for that bow that will work much better than what you're using. Spruce tends to be a bit tinny in humid weather otherwise."
He hands Jay'mrow a small tin of rosin.
Jaym'row thanks Elendriel for the gift and promises to try the special rosin the next time she gives the crew a performance. "Do you play the fiddle as well? How did you come to have such a useful item? I wouldn't want to deprive you of such good rosin."
Jaym'row tries to make herself useful. She'll help clean up after the meal. After that, she'll go up to the deck of the ship and watches the crew trim the sails and tries to learn what she can about how the ship is operated. If there are no tasks she can help with, she'll watch the horizon and enjoy the sea air.
"It is no bother. As a carpenter I have all manner of rosins, oils, humectants, finishes, varnishes, and other items available. It comes with the job description."
The quartermaster sticks her head in and calls him over.
As he turns to go, he offers a goodbye. "It was a pleasure. I'm sure you'll make a fine crewman."
Syper chuckles as his duet finished up. "That's what you needed, Jaymie! Backup!"
He cleans up his place and greets Hodak. "I first took sail from Genji, and I've worked with plenty an orc. And, well, intimately know the fate of many an orcspawn without parents."
He clasps Hodak's forearm and adds, "Sizdiñ otbasıñızda siz sïyaqtı käsip tabılsın.
Letting go, he looks around to everyone and adds, "I'm honored to be a part of such a fine crew! I know a thing or two about hoisting a sail, so feel free to keep me up on deck as needed."
"Zöndiñ nasıdızqï tal," he replies, smiling and returning Syper's grip.
He slowly inches towards Okoteck. "Uh, can be rude, but... can Kork have three feathers?"
After a short pause, he adds "If possible, not black?" and offers a friendly grin in return.
Okoteck caws a laugh. "You'll find it quite a challenge to discover one of my feathers that isn't black, but you can have the next three I lose, certainly. If I'm struck in battle, that might even be soon."
Jade will spend as much time abovedecks as she can, rain or shine, and will join in with the rigging or swab work wherever they need help.
Kork will spend an uncomfortable amount of time trailing Okoteck, waiting for feathers to drop and gathering them up.
Jaym'row makes herself available to help with any chore, but when no help is needed, she practices her violin and dance moves. She tries to practice when the seas are somewhat rough, so she can learn how to anticipate and adjust her frame as the ship rocks. She wants to be able to perform as well on a rocking deck as on solid ground.
Okoteck seems to take Kork's presence in good humor. For his own part, he spends the mornings practicing with his magic, trying slight variations on incantations and gestures and recording the results--though he's careful to avoid any spell that could start a fire in his experiments.
The rest of his time during the day is spent observing the crew and sometimes lending a hand where something catches his interest. When he's not working, he can often be found with notebook in hand, writing and sometimes even sketching out some of what he observes.
The three-day trip to Jurgen's Fist over the cerulean expanse of the Norennian Sea is uneventful. The bosun, cox'n, and navigator take shifts at the helm, and the crew staggers its watch schedule to ensure the ship can travel at all hours of the day and night.
The Hellion's Cry pulls into port at mid-morning, berthing at the dock on the west side of town. The quartermaster and a good portion of the crew, including the party, the gunner, the carpenter, the sailmaker, and the blacksmith, hit the town. Basic supplies, including food, lengths of wood, nails, rough cloth, and additional gunpowder are quickly retrieved and loaded onto the ship.
With all but the snappod distillate secured, the rest of the shore detail, together with the party, retreat to the Rusty Tankard.
The sound of clinking mugs, scraping plates, and loud conversation lend the Rusty Tankard an air of warmth and conviviality. In the southeast corner a fiddler plays a fast-paced tune while an aiuvarin girl dances on a table, surrounded by cheering and whistling men throwing coins at her, including several of the crew. Most of the rest are scattered among the many dice and card games, or else drinking mead and picking at bowls of beef stew or potato soup.
Until Jaym'row gets her next pay pouch, she limits her activities to sight-seeing and enjoying basic food and drink. Seeing and hearing the entertainment in the Rusty Tankard, she feels an urge to join in, but worries that she'll start another incident. So she sips an ale and orders a serving of freshly grilled fish.
She asks Mirian, "So, that item we're here to get, who is going to take care of that? It sounded like it might be an adventure in itself to get to a supplier."
The quartermaster leans over and mutters quietly,
"I've spoken to the right people, and the shipment should be pulling up any minute. The barrels will be marked with false labels; we already have plenty enough rum."
She rubs her knuckles anxiously and adds, "I can't help but think that the bird man might have a point. Mulm was incompetent, but surely there are smarter people with an interest in the, erm, item. When the rest of the crew gets done eating and heads back to the ship, I'll want the five of you here with me to help load the wagon. I could do it with two, but I'd prefer more numbers, just to be safe."
A burly man in a laborer's outfit strides up to Okoteck and gives him a warm greeting.
"I remember you! You're the bird-man Metello hired to keep the books in order. Long time no see."
He sits down across from him and says, "We didn't get to talking much, but you definitely left an impression; there's scarce few of your kind that take to bookkeeping. Looking for your old job back? Metello's found a bit of success and we could always use somebody with your skills."
Okoteck takes a seat in a back corner of the tavern, where he can watch the comings and goings and doings of all within. His head swivels back and forth, dark eyes taking in the people with interest.
He swivels his head to view the man approaching him. "I am indeed Okoteck," he says, with a polite bob of his head. "But I am afraid I am otherwise contracted at present. Please pass my apologies along to Metello."
Syper sits and enjoys the show at the Rusty Tankard. He watches Jaym'row fidget and bounce in her seat in tune with the jig, and lays a hand softly on the back of her head. "Steady now. We can practice this song and dance back on board, sound good?" He offers an encouraging wink, which, of course, looks more like a blink with the eyepatch.
He adds a second wink to Mirian. "Of course. We can never have enough rum."
"Ah. Well then. My name's Termas Sungden, and if your employment status changes you can find me on Grapeshot Lane, third door east from the wellhead."
He smiles and walks off.
Jade takes a seat near Jaym'row and Syper and orders a pint of mead and a bowl of beef stew and people-watches while she eats.
"Tavern girls here in the Free Isles always make me feel overdressed. But I think I prefer armor turning arrows to the pleasures of turning heads," she says to no one in particular.
After she's finished the stew and the mead, she pulls out a handful of coins to join in a game of chance when Mirian asks everyone to help load the wagon, but she puts the coins back in her pocket. If I start now, knowing my luck I'll have to stop right before I start winning. Oh well, maybe I can find someone on the ship to play with.
Overhearing Jade, Syper turns his head to catch her eye, smirks, and goes back to his ale.
"I shall keep that in mind," Okoteck replies.
He watches Termas leave, a bit of suspicion behind his eyes. Was it merely a coincidence that he'd found Okoteck here, or was there something more to it? He resolves to be more watchful, though he knows he may well just be jumping at shadows.
Kork watches Okoteck's private little corner not well hidden behind a pillar. Too focused on looking for any feathers that could fall and be promptly snatched up, Kork misses the exchange between the tengu and their former colleague completely. When the quartermaster comes to invite the goblin to oversee a shipment, Kork shifts his attention to the woman. "You boss, quartermaster. Kork do what you say. Tell Kork when, but this goblin have important business now." Kork he continues watching the tengu like his life depends on it. He ignores any other happenings in the inn.
After observing the interchange with Oboteck and Sungden, Jaym'row observes, "One of the things I especially like about being someplace I have never been before is the extreme unlikelihood of meeting anyone who knows anything about me. That's real freedom."
Every ten minutes or so, the quartermaster gets up and heads outside. On the third such outing, she is gone for five minutes, then returns, strutting into the room and tapping on each of your shoulders in turn.
“I need you to help me finish loading this wagon. Meet me outside.”
Evening is still a few hours off as you step into the light, but its hints are beginning to trickle down the edges of the horizon. With the streets west of the tavern mostly deserted, you quickly spot Mirian standing beside a hand-pulled cart loaded with heavy wooden barrels stamped Metello’s: Quality You Can Count On, with a stenciled picture of a smiling merchant. Upon seeing you, she points to a horse-drawn wagon and informs you, “We need to get the rest of these barrels loaded up and onto the ship; I’d rather they not be in direct sunlight for long on account of the contents being so flammable and all.”
At that moment, you notice a man in long traveler’s robes muttering to himself. Suddenly, he flings out his hands, and a small topaz in his palm glows brightly and shatters with a loud boom and a blast of sulfurous gases, conjuring a flying creature of pure flame who swoops down upon the horse-drawn wagon and attacks.
Initiative order:
Syper, 21
Robed figure, 17
Old Kork, 16
Jade, 14
Okoteck, 12
Fiery creature, 11
Jaym'row, 9
DC of fiery creature: 15
If you determine I need to use a different skill, I don't have any other knowledge-y skills trained, but my Int is +0 and Wis is +1.
"Good thing we all love the water!" Syper calls out.
"The waves carry us home..." he sings out as he pulls out his bow and fires.
The arrow passes closely enough to the creature for the fletching to blacken, but a sudden course correction by the creature causes it to miss.
The robed figure weaves an enchantment in the air before him, causing three bolts of ethereal force to coalesce from nothing and then launch themselves at Jaym'row.
" Someone's in big trouble!"
Okoteck is not particularly surprised by the attack. He confidently jogs towards the attackers, one hand tracing an arcane sigil in the air while the other gestures between the two. He caws harshly and an arc of electricity leaps between the fiery creature and its summoner.
Kork pulls out his starknife. "Not worry, Spikey. Kork pick up later." he studies the flame creature for a moment, then spits on one of the blades and tosses the weapon at the fire spirit.
You recall an important fact about the creature, learning its highest weakness (or one of its highest weaknesses, if it has multiple with the same value) but not its other weaknesses, resistances, or immunities. You can exploit either the creature's mortal weakness or personal antithesis. Your unarmed and weapon Strikes against the creature also become magical if they weren't already.