I'll agree, it has been fun. I'd definitely echo Aaron's comment - those were some epic fights.
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I'll be honest, I'm spread pretty thin on PbP's these days, and have been looking to reduce the number of games I'm in, especially long-term ones. That, paired with the fact that this game runs on a bit of an on-again-off-again schedule, makes me think Doran may need to sail off into the sunset.
Doran glares at Petrucio, turning away in frustration and disgust. Well, that came apart fast! Let's hope Aaron and Sandara have a defter touch talkin' to the vile fellow. He takes a seat some ways away, and his dark mood is lightened somewhat by seeing how easily the Chell is taken in by Sandara's wiles. I'd do best to jus' keep a weather eye out fer now. Seems Ollie and Thorn are managin' to chat up the folk 'ere, and I'm not fit for fancy parlor talk. Sipping a drink and scanning the crowd, he keeps an eye open for any halflings nearby, in the hopes that he might find a sympathetic ear and a possible source of information about the Chelish slaver.
Doran moves through the room as casually as he can. He's quite used to taverns, but of the rough, dockside sort. This salon, with its marble frontispiece and alabaster beauties within, is more than a little alien to him. Nonetheless, he makes his way to the bar, pausing as if listening to a particularly profound thought when he nears Pentrucio and his attractive quarry. No idea if they'll put up with music in a place like this, but I might be able to do the Chell a favor here, so he'll have his guard down... Trying to catch the eye of Pentrucio and the woman who's just turned from him, Doran slips his harmonica from his pocket, the amethysts on its surface glittering with blue light as he cradles it in his small hands and raises it to his mouth. With a wink, he begins to play a lively tune, tapping his foot to the rhythm of it and nearly dancing a jig. Taking the briefest break in his playing, he says with a grin to the Chelaxian and the woman next to him at the bar, "Ye're a lovely couple, won't you dance?"
Sorry to be so slow to post - I'm in a bit of a busy spell at work and home at the moment, likely to continue for much of May, though that doesn't mean I won't be posting at all. Have fun on your cruise, Barcas! I'm spending Memorial Day weekend at PaizoCon with my son, can't wait!
With his friends joining him on deck, Doran begins to explain the significance of the Chelish ship, and her captain, "That ship is th' Hell's Harlot, an' her cap'n is Lord Jenidar, sire of the family what used to 'own' me. They’re rich n’ greedy, always wantin’ more – makes ‘em do questionable things from time t’ time. An’ I’d like to catch ‘em at it.” Gesturing around the busy docks, he continues, ”Even here, where folk are free, no matter who they are, the Jenidars’ll try to take slaves. The little folk, especially, will sometimes go missin’ - an’ if they’re not caught red-handed, they sail away wit’ their catch an’ sell ‘em into bondage when they git home, like they jus’ fished ‘em out of the sea. I’d like t’ see the laws of Andoran stuck to those bastards, see ‘em caught takin’ slaves in a free land. Odds are they’re too powerful to pay all they should for their crimes, but even seein’ ‘em red-faced with embarrassment would be a joy to behold, ye know?” Doran is thoughtful a moment, scratching Jako’s plumage and pondering how to accomplish his goal. He looks around at his crewmates and says, ”Like I said, nothin’ I’d like more than to catch ‘em trying to take halflings as slaves here in Andoran…but I’m not sure the best way to do it. We could post a watch on ‘em, but they might notice some of the less sneaky of us. An’ if I were on watch, they might jus’ try to take me…” ”What do ye think, crew? Send Vrunyar’s ambassador over to talk to ‘em, get a tour of the ship and see what he can find? They’re like to be too clever to make it easy, an’ we’d have to get the timin’ jus’ right, to be sure they’ve got captives but haven’t sailed yet. Anyone got any way to spy on ‘em from afar? Ollivor or Sandara, you know any tricks like that?”
Sorry, been a bit busy. Hope to get a post up this afternoon. I'd like to do some harm to these Chells, anyone object?
Doran drops a fat gold goin in the man's hand by way of thanks, saying, "Sure 'nuff, that's th' family I were thinkin' of. An' Jenidar himself's aboard? Well, I'll hafta see if I can resist th' urge to do the man some mischief, or worse." In reply to the man's question, Doran says, "I've been through here before, tried workin' the docks a bit, but found I wanted ta be at sea, ye know? I tried and tried but jus' couldn't shake me sea legs, th' ground always felt like it were movin' under me."
As he waits on the Lighthouse for his friends to arrive, Doran's thinking turns from nervous fear that somehow his former masters will reclaim him to thoughts of action. He can't help but want to do something about Jenidar and their cruel ways, can't help but dream of striking back somehow.
When the House Jenidar flag comes into view, Doran can’t help but ask himself the question he thought he had left behind: Why do the sea gods haunt me so? Having made his escape from so many troubles and found himself back in the land of the free, with a ship and a crew and money in his pocket, and the promise of a decent future on top of all that, his past has come sailing back to haunt him. This time I’m not alone, and I’m not their slave. But still, best play it a bit cautious. He drops off his perch as the ship makes her way to the pier, and approaches one of the halflings waiting to assist in unloading. ”Hey, mate, what can you tell me about that ship, ‘side from her bein’ full of devil-lovin’ slavers? I’ve got no love fer the family that flies that flag, nor them fer me. There’s a few coins in it fer ye, if ye can tell me ought about it, especially who ‘er cap’n is.”
Once he’s learned what he can about the ship – its business in Augustana, who captains it, anyting else of note – he moves along the dock a bit to watch from a distance as the unloading begins and the captain and crew begin to make their way ashore. When he’s gleaned all he can from this observation, he hurries back to the Empty Lighthouse, and spies Wulf, their newest recruit. ”Boy!” he calls out, ”you know this city, right? Go gather the rest of the officers, tell ‘em Doran wants ‘em on the double, we’ve got to meet about somethin’!” After naming the inns that the others are staying in and making sure the boy has all their names straight, Doran says with uncharacteristic brusqueness, ”Go! Time and tide wait for no man!” Once the lad has left the Lighthouse, Doran collects himself a bit. No point takin’ out me nerves on the boy. But seein’ that flag has shaken me good – I hope it’s sailed off by the time the others get here, but my luck’s never been as good as that.
Yeah, I've been a little stuck because I re-read Doran's backstory and was reminded that he actually lived in Augustana for a while, but was considered cursed by the sea gods and couldn't get work, so he turned to piracy. Figuring out how to put those pieces together with the current story.
I missed this question - I'd be happy to stay in Augustana a bit. Doran likes the big city.
Brilliant post, Ollie! It was funny, brings in NPCs and helps flesh them out, adds all kinds of depth to your character - really great.
Doran smiles at Bejman’s crunchy gift to Jako, now confident that he can trust this fellow with their business here in port. ”Glad to have met you, Bejman, it looks like we’ll get along famously.” Although he’s tempted by the notion of a luxurious hotel in this grand city, Doran simply can’t imagine himself in such a place. He may be a captain in name and responsibilities, but in his heart he’s still an old salt who’s far more at home grabbing a quick bite to eat in the crow’s nest than sitting at a fancy table wondering which spoon to use. He finds simple lodgings by the docks easily enough, and settles in quite happily among the modest guests at the Seagull’s Rest. After some consultation with Bejman, Doran sets off for an armorer’s shop not far from the inn where Ollivor is staying. Seems funny to ‘ave split up the crew, I never got t’ do that as a slave. But we do get to see plenty o’ each other while at sea, ‘tis prob’ly fer the best to get a break from each other’s comp’ny when we can. He enters the shop and inquires about armor and a dagger, showing off Naga to the smith. ”I’d like another blade, as close to a twin to this one as ye can manage,” he tells the burly weaponsmith, ”and a set of studded leather armor, magicked up as well. An’ I’m sure we can arrange some sort of package deal, since I’ll be bringin’ ye custom fer two purchases, ain’t that so? An’ if ye offer a good price, I’ve got a few friends just arrived in port, likely to be lookin’ to make some purchases as well. We’re fresh off a long voyage, with some gold to spend, an’ I know at least one of me crew wants a couple of swords re-forged, would fetch ye a pretty penny.” After several minutes of cordial haggling, a slightly reduced price is agreed upon, and Doran agrees to pick up the goods in a week’s time. While he waits, he visits the wizard’s academy and places an order for a cloak and a ring to help protect him in combat and against all manner of spells and other hazards. No tellin’ what we might run into in our travels, always wanted somethin’ like that to add a bit of luck, offset some of tha’ bad luck I seem to have sailed with fer so long. Stopping by the Lighthouse to check on the progress of supplying and refitting the ship, Doran is surprised to encounter a young half-orc lad, and even more surprised to hear the boy has been asking after someone named Doran Rawkins. ”What is it ye’re after, lad?” he says, not unkindly. ”I’m Cap’n Tidewrack, usually jus’ called Cap’n Doran. Rawkins is our other cap’n.” On learning that the boy seeks to sail on the lighthouse, at Ollie’s suggestion, Doran considers him carefully. ”Hmm, boy your age, livin’ on his own in the big city, ‘s got to be rough. And don’t tell me ye don’t live on yer own. I can see you’ve been livin’ rough, and not eatin’ much, and ye look like ye’ve been in a scrape or too. But all them things are strengths when it comes to a life at sea.” He thinks a moment, then continues, ”I’ll tell ye what. Ollie’s got a big heart, but he’s never built a crew for a voyage. But that don’t mean I’ll turn ye away. We’re going to be busy the next week or so, loadin’ supplies and gettin’ the Empty Lighthouse in proper sailin’ trim. You step aboard, help with that work, and we’ll see how ye do. I’ll see your paid for the week’s work whatever happens, and if ye show yerself a hard worker – even if ye’re a lubber – I’ll take ye on. Done?” Once Wulf has been handed over to the ship’s skeleton crew for a brief orientation and a spell of intensely hard work, Doran sets out on the errand he’s been saving for last, to savor it all the more. He visits nearly every shop in the city that sells musical instruments, from the most refined crafter of violas and harps to the lowliest dockside pawnshops. Surprisingly, it is in one of these that he finds his prize: a harmonica, beautifully crafted of silver to fit his small hands, with the initials ‘I.S.’ picked out in amethyst stones on the underside. Hmm, now that’s a fine sign, Iakob’s initials. John’ll like that, remindin’ him of his good friend, brave fella that he was. This thing must’ve belonged to some rich Andoren fallen on hard times. Small as it is, ‘e probably ‘ad it since he was a kid, and had to part with it. Well, I’ll see that it travels th’ world, and Iakob’s memory travels with it. He hands over a small sack of gold coins for it, though he pays less than he would have in the finer parts of Augustana, and enjoys its fine tone, playing it as he walks slowly through the streets of the city back to the docks.
Barcas - any chance the other bits and pieces we've found have added up to enough for Doran to afford 6577 gp? If not, I'll go without something.
I'm still pondering that question a bit, but some things I'm thinking about: Cloak of Resistance - 1000 gp
That puts me at 6577 gp, so I'll have to give up something or scrounge a bit. The armor will get me +2 to my current AC, so would make more sense than the ring if I have to choose. I always feel like I'm overlooking cool possibilities when it comes to magic items, so I'd welcome ideas.
He pauses, not wanting to lecture the dwarf, whose intentions are purely good, then continues in a kindly, respectful tone, ”But the infirmary’s yer kingdom, Vrun, and it’ll be however ye like it. A tile floor’ll add a bit o’ weight, but cargo can be shifted to counter that, sure as sure. An’ you’ll be keepin’ us alive if things get hot, want it to meet yer every need.” Turning his practical seaman’s mind to the question, he asks, ”How about a nice rough-glazed tile? Would be easy enough to clean, but wouldn’t get slick when there’s blood spilled on it. You sort out what ye want, and we’ll see it done, eh?”
All the same, he knows the busy commercial docks of such a large seaport will breed many varieties of scoundrels and charlatans. When Bejman Stark approaches and offers his services, Doran gives the man a careful once-over before deciding he can likely be trusted to do as he says.
”Aye, Master Stark, we’ve need of a good many things,” he says. ”Barrels o’ pitch, coils of rope, a bundle or two o’ hawser, quite a few feet of plankin’, likely a spare binnacle, forty yards of good white canvas sailcloth, a couple dozen barrels o’ seaman’s rations, limes, a pair of stout oaken beams to brace the ship’s knees – cut across the grain, mind ye – some fine rope, maybe dyed a nice gold, to replace the whippin’ on the king spoke, ours is disgraceful…that’ll do for a start.” ”An’ there might be a thing or two ye can find for me as well, if ye know where a man can find things in the magical line,” he adds. A loud squawk, punctuated by a beautiful blue parrot landing on Doran’s shoulder, makes him laugh and add, ”And we’ll be needin’ some crackers!”
Can someone confirm for me that we each have 6,000 gp to spend? Based on this post and there being six of us, that makes sense, just want to plan my purchases correctly. At this point, I have no idea what I'll buy, and would welcome suggestions.
I would opt for big, especially if we're going to try to spend some of our gold on gear upgrades - so Augustana sounds good.
Well, I just ran with it, before I saw your post, Barcas, and it was fun!
”Here we go again…” Doran mutters as Vrunyar appears on deck. Speaking in an exaggeratedly loud voice, like the worst stereotype of an Andoran abroad, he says, ”I’m sure Commander Cain has no idea what ye’re sayin’, just as I don’t!” Adopting a broad, patently false smile and nodding as if speaking to an idiot, Doran continues, ”Thank you, ambassador, thank you! Goodbye now!” He then turns his back on ‘Gemmusran’ and says in a much-lowered voice to the Chelish officer, ”Bloody fool tries to talk to every soul we come across in that language of his, I’m afraid he’ll teach it to my parrot just to have someone to talk to! And he doesn’t know a capstan from a cathead, the lubber! We’re to bring him to Andoran, and I’ll tell ye, I’ve been scratchin’ backstays and prayin’ fer a followin' wind every day of this journey!”
Only hitch there is that I told the Chelish commander that we already dropped off the ambassador, but I can happily say we also picked one up, and I've been trying to forget it. Will need to post later.
”Oh, right,” Doran replies calmly, once Cain appears to have accepted their cover story. Doing his best to hide his distaste for the man, he continues, ”We dropped off the Andoren ambassador t’ Jalmeray on our way south, seems like forever ago. We’ve stopped in a bunch o’ ports along th’ way, sailin’ clear round Garund like I said, collectin’ diplomatic letters and reports and such to bring back to Almas. It’s a shame there’s not more gold in haulin’ paper, I’d be a rich man. But at least it lets us fly the flag, as you say, commander.”
Okay, so carrying a diplomatic passenger and then diplomatic correspondence would be a reasonable basis for us to be on official business? I'll wait to see if others have ideas they'd like to incorporate, but will likely go with something like that.
We dumped our cargo to escape pirates. Better losing that than our ship and lives. Maybe naming the Wormwood? As for what the cargo was, maybe spices, rare hard woods, or stone slabs (for dwarves). Could use Vrunyar’s collection of rock samples from Tidewater Rock as “proof” of what we had. This is a good explanation of why we didn't do well money-wise on this voyage, but what is our official business, that lets us fly under the Andoran flag? Barcas - I'm fine with coming up with our own tale, but have a question or two. Is it clear we are sailing under a letter of marque? Does it say so in our papers? In that case, we'll need to describe some sort of mission we're on for the government - we could say it's mapmaking, and that we had Tantrey's gnome forger put together some maps for us. Though maps and mapmaking were guarded very closely as the maps became more strategically useful in the age of sail in our world, so it might be seen as akin to spying, or at least planning something untoward. We could also say we transported an ambassador somewhere, and are now coming back with his letters or some signed agreement or something. It would be reasonable of us to refuse to show those to Cain and his inspectors, and we could even complain about how our obligations to that mission got in the way of our trading along the way, something like that. What do you think, crew?
Barcas - I didn't understand that we would have to explain our official duties in the way Cain is asking, so I'd like to ask for either a little guidance from you (assuming Tantrey had some ruse in mind) or a moment for us to chat here about it (with the idea that we discussed it during out weeks of sailing, in preparation for crossing the Arch). Personally, I've no idea what a reasonable official purpose might be for an Andoren merchant ship. Map-making maybe? If so, we'll need some maps to show...
As the crew works to repair and refit the ship, incorporating Vrunyar’s clever ideas for how to stash some useful supplies in various parts of it, Doran supports and directs their work, not hesitating to get his own hands dirty when it’s called for. When the gnomish forger comes aboard with the false bill of title and ship’s log, the halfling captain whistles in amazement. ”My name’s listed as the owner of this ship! Never thought I’d see the day when that’d happen, me ownin’ a ship, even if the papers are fakes!” He casts a discerning eye over the documents and declares, ”They look real enough to fool me, let’s hope the Chells know as little about forgery as I do. Thanks for yer work on this, Tamenatti – as ye know, we’ve a lot ridin’ on passin’ as Andoran merchants, and these papers’re our ticket through the Arch.” Conchobar and Hojo’s reports of some sort of mysterious ship appearing in their wake make the crew more than a little nervous. Sailors are a superstitious lot to begin with, and after some of the things they’ve seen on this journey, their fears are easily stoked. Doran does his best to allay their fears, using his music to lighten the crew’s mood, and he’s glad that no one else reports seeing the strange ship as they make their way north. In spite of the travails of their journey between the Eye on one hand and the pirates of the coast on the other, Doran takes real pleasure in getting to know the crew. He has always enjoyed being part of a crew as it takes shape, cohering into something that is greater than the sum of its parts – but to be leading that process turns out to be an even greater pleasure. Each day leaves him tired from all his work, managing the myriad details, staving off the occasional near-disaster, and simply training the new hands in what to do and what not to do, but extremely satisfied with his lot in life. This feeling of contentment is diminished by the sight of the Arch, and sapped away entirely by the appearance of the Dominator and its Chelish crew. In response to the officer’s questions, he keeps his answer short and simple, ”We’re a merchant ship, buyin’ and sellin’ what we can to make a living, on our way home t’Andoran. It’s been a long trip, went ‘round the south tip of Garund. Wish we’d come out of it a bit richer, but it’ll be good to be home all the same.”
Doran likes the sound of this proposal more and more as Tantrey lays out the details. "Good questions, Vrun," he says, "I'm glad ye asked 'em. Though I'd be just fine leavin' my Chelish citizenship behind, if the Andorens'll have me. At any gate, I'm in favor of going to Andoran right off - lots of good reasons fer it, it seems." Watching the dwarf chart their course on the map, Doran chuckles and adds in a kindly tone, "We could go that way, Vrun, but we might hafta get ourselves a new ship along th' way - and we wouldn't get you to the Peach near soon enough, my friend."
Sounded to me like the overall opinion was Andoran first, then the Shackles.
If Andoran isn't too far, Doran would enjoy going there as a free man. Even as I say that, though, it occurs to me that we won't be chasing many pirates or freeing many slaves in Andoran, and that's not only our job now, but a worthy endeavor. Let's go to Sargava to refit (unless we can do that on the Rock), then the Shackles!
I would agree with John’s suggestion that we spend some of our hard-earned gold. Another suggestion I’d have, Barcas, is you steer us a little bit. As you say, we’ve lost a little momentum in this game, and going very sandboxy is not likely to suddenly goose the momentum of a PbP game. I think following John’s idea, to get ourselves some proper gear, would be a good starting point, and then having a relatively straightforward goal, like finding Ollivor’s brother, would be good – and you can throw some story at us along the way. Looking back over it, most of Doran’s story is about getting away from things, so it doesn’t offer much by way of things to proactively seek to do in a sandbox. Unless, of course, you throw some of those things into his path…
Doran shakes his head in wonder as he hears Captain Tantrey's offer. "You'd bring us into Andoren service as pirate hunters, and we'll be rewarded for freeing slaves?" He lays a small, weathered hand on John's arm and says, "Friend, I think you know me well enough to be sure of my answer to this, but I appreciate your giving each of us a chance to speak our minds." With a bright gleam in his eye, Doran looks up at Tantrey and says, "I accept yer offer, with great joy, Cap'n. It'll be an honor to sail in th' service of Andoran, and with the goals you've laid out fer us. Fact is, I can scarce imagine anything I'd like more!" He looks at his friends, hoping they'll all say the same - and that they can have a celebration of this bright new prospect!
Doran is quite pleased to hear that Lady Smythee has some ideas about how to put a little chop in Endymion’s waters, and that the Bellflower Network will be part of it. ”Takin’ that damn’d Chell out o’ our way will be a great service, m’lady. We’re bloody, er, quite lucky to have you schemin’ to undo the man, sure as sure,” he offers, still a bit uncertain about addressing a proper lady. ”And stayin’ here in port a couple o’ days sounds like just the thing. We’ve got no end of work to do on the Lighthouse, a crew to train up in sailin’ and fightin’ and plenty else to do. Who knows, there might even be a moment o’ rest, though not likely now that I’ve said it.”
”We’ve nothing in writing, m’lady,” Doran says ruefully, ”but we’ve seen proof of it enough. A Chelish Admiral, Endymion they called ‘im, overtook and captured our ship – the very one we sailed here on, if you can credit that. He killed our cap’n, and could have taken all of us as slaves, but he didn’t. This admiral met with Harrigan aboard ‘is ship, the Wormwood, talked a piece, and then gave us and our ship to Harrigan. Said we were being given to Harrigan ‘as penance for our crimes against Cheliax.’” He shrugs, then continues, ”Wish I’d heard what they ‘ad to say t’each other, but they were too far off. They didn’t seem over-friendly with each other, but there was a deal struck, sure as sure. Will that news do you any good in getting after Harrigan?”
Thanks - I was on the page after that and didn't get to the long narrative post that explained it all.
On a less wondrous note: my search-fu has failed me. I can't find the post(s) describing the relationship between Harrigan and Endymion or Cheliax, so I can't really add to the conversation with our hostess. Anyone else have better luck?
Congrats, John! I've got two boys, 13 & 17, and they're the best thing that ever happened to me. Very happy for you.
"Me mates are right," Doran says fiercely as Harrigan's evil nature is described. "But to my eyes, what matters more'n whether he toes the line with the Pirate Council is somethin' more personal. Harrigan killed Cap'n Henray Morgan Jonas, the best man I've ever sailed under. The man owes me a death, far as I'm concerned, and I'll take his own to pay me debt."
Having some computer issues and about to head to a weekend con, will be quiet for the next few days.
Doran relaxes a bit as the sergeant-at-arms tells how Tidewater Rock came to be in the control of Lady Smythee. Oh, married to a pirate, was she? Well, that’s the sort of lady I can make sense of! Sounds like this won’t be so bad. He listens quietly as John tells of their encounter with Captain Tantrey, then weighs in himself, ”It’s as Rawkins says, m’lady, we were fightin’ our way free when the Bonaventure come sailin’ up.” Doran hesitates a moment – like all sailors, he’s used to narrating battles at table, using bits of bread, salt shakers and whatever else is to hand to serve as ships, forts and other combatants. After a moment, he manages to still his gesturing hands and continue with his description. ”We were right uncertain for a tick whether she was friend or foe t’us, but any sailor worth ‘is salt can spot an Andoren Navy crew at work. An’ knowin’ they were from Andoran, well, all our freed halflings breathed a good bit easier. Cap’n Tantrey seemed pleased to see we were doin’ ‘is work fer ‘im, and that we could handle ourselves in when things got hot, so he sent us on here to Tidewater Rock.” After a pause, he presents a question of his own, ”If ye don’ mind me askin’, Lady Smythee, what is it ye do here, all of ye? Fight the good fight in these waters, sure. But how do ye resupply? Have you allies? We’re a fair long sail from Andoran, sure enough.”
Doran's slightly worried face relaxes a bit at Ollivor's clever advice and he replies, "Oh, I'm with ye, Ollie, women are a mystery deeper than the sea. But it's not that she's a woman that worries me, it's that she's a Lady. If we're to make a good impression, I'll have to be pretty clever makin' it up as we go along, ye know?" He shrugs, as a man in battle might before charging a vastly superior foe, and says, "Ah, well, maybe she likes parrots."
Doran nods and smiles at Sandara’s cleverness when she suggests a different method of approaching the Rock, and is glad to see her plan has paid off when she returns. As they sail into the harbor, he’s very pleased that the crew make a decent show of it, their practice over the last several days having formed them into a reasonable approximation of a well-trained crew. When they reach the dock, Doran nods to Tribin, Wyssa, Orinad and Rivias, who throw docklines to the Andorans waiting on the sturdy dock. As the ship is secured, Doran springs up onto the rail, Jako settling on his shoulder as soon as his feet touch the wood, and hails Captain Tantrey. ”Good day to ye!” he calls out in a voice pitched to carry clearly. ”I’m Doran Tidewrack, cap’n of sorts of the Empty Lighthouse. ‘Tis a pleasure to be here, Mister McCleagh, in a proper port with a proper dock, after heaving to on sandy beaches and skirtin’ the foul folk who sail these waters. We’ll be ashore shortly.” With a gracious wave, he drops back onto the deck, muttering to Ollivor as he does so, ”Dinner with a lady? I dunno a thing ‘bout dinin’ with ladies. Sounds plenty dangerous. Maybe ye can fish up a shark fer me to wrestle instead?” He stifles his concern, whistles to Jako to come along, and leads the way down the gangplank.
Hey Barcas! Didn't know you had another game starting, and didn't really have time to dive in to character creation as deeply as your games require - but I read your recruitment thread to the end in order to put in a plug for Simeon, who I play with in a Way of the Wicked game. Great RP'er, with a very different concept in this game than the other! Have fun, y'all! (In case anyone's wondering who just popped in to sound off, I'm the co-captain of the Empty Lighthouse, a free ship in Barcas' Skull & Shackles game.)
Naturally, Doran resists the notion of putting a crossbow bolt into Vrunyar, who is not only the ship's doctor but his good friend. He takes a bit of convincing, and Doran still insists on a blunted bolt and a weakly-wound crossbow for the first shot. When it bounces right off the dwarf's chest like he's made of stone, Doran gradually steps up his game, until he's watching in amazement as Vrunyar is unharmed by his best shot. One shot, not his best at all, misses Vrunyar and sticks quivering into the hull of the ship, proof that the effect is only protecting Vrunyar, but doing so quite effectively. Doran's amazement is interrupted by Vrunyar's questions about their destination, Tidewater Rock. ”Can’t say I really know a thing about it,” he replies, ”though from what we know of the master of the place, I’d wager it’s well-supplied, an’ tough as a nut to crack. As to who should bring the note to ‘em, I’d say either me or John could do it. I can talk my way out of things all right, and if things really went bad I might just be able to duck out o’ sight and get out of there. But Rawkins bein’ Andoren would likely please ‘em – though who knows if they’d take him for a deserter or somethin’ once they hear his tale. We’ll hafta ask ‘im if he wants to go, an’ if not, I’ll do it.” Later, when Aaron asks for some teaching in how to hit enemies in their soft spots, Doran is a bit surprised, mainly because Aaron seems so confident and capable. Hadn’t expected to be teaching him much, he thinks as he shows Aaron how to twist the knife before pulling it free of the target, to cause as much damage and debilitating pain as possible with every strike, but he’s a natural at it, as I’d expect. At one point in their lessons, Marina joins the small crowd that has gathered to watch their nimble captain instruct the pale-skinned Chelaxian in how to quickly take down an opponent. Doran is a bit conflicted about her presence and her obvious attention on him. I don’t mind her knowin’ I’m a fighter. Hell, a part of me can’t help but be pleased that she’s got her eye on me as I show somethin’ I’m good at. But I’ve had to do some dark work with a blade, and I’m not sure that’s how I want her to think of me. He ends the lesson soon after, his skin sweaty in the warm air of the Shackles, and hollers good-humoredly at everyone who’s been watching, ”Are we such a fine crew that we’ve got the leisure to stand around and watch others work? I thought that was a captain’s job! This ship won’t sail herself, and she sure as the deep is cold won’t clean herself! Have I got a first mate? Or a bosun? Who’s going to set this crew to workin’? Deck needs scrubbin’, ropes need flakin’, there’s no end of mendin' needed in the rigging and ratlines, and I’m sure we could get a little more step out of the barkey if we shifted the cargo a strake or two aft…” At this outburst, the crowd rapidly disperses, in time for Doran to watch Thorn try out some archery practice on a live target - Vrunyar. Doran is once again so amazed by the dwarf’s crazed inventiveness that he doesn’t even notice the crowd re-forming to watch the antics of the senior crew.
As the day begins, Vrunyar has assembled the halflings on the deck. ”As you know, we’re sorting ourselves into our positions on the ship. Some of you are great sheet folders, ribbon tiers, line walkers, helm polishers, boxers, and all the rest of the nautical terms I’m still learning." Awesome, Vrun!
The trip to Tidewater Rock is as pleasant as any Doran has known. He gets to know the ins and outs of their new ship, shifting the limited cargo about to learn her trim, determining if she wallows when sailing too close to the wind and learning that he can eke a little more speed out of her if he flies topgallant royals in a following breeze. All of this is fun, fascinating work, and he never tires of it. What makes the journey even more enjoyable is the incredible cache of stories and tales that Marina unveils as they travel – tales of one-eyed monsters sailing the Shackles long ago, and perhaps still lurking among the islands. The fact that the teller of the tales is a pretty Halfling lass, made all the more lovely by the new light of hope and freedom in her eyes, makes her tales especially bewitching. As she spins her tales each evening, Doran follows them with a song or two, encouraging the crew to join in. Even Jako squawks along to some of the tunes, though he’s much better with the words than the melody. But the blue bird and the wee captain spend nearly all their time together, as inseparable as if they’d been sailing the seas together their whole lives. Doran can hardly believe his good fortune – a free crew, many of whom are good friends to him, a free ship, a lovely lass full of tales, even a pirate’s parrot as his companion! As they come within a day’s sail of the Rock, he grows a bit pensive, wondering if such fortune can last, or if the tide is due to turn soon.
Alias is updated...what are the rest of you slackers doing? We may have to institute some discipline on this vessel! ;p
"That one's not dead, just sleepin' off his ale, Vrunyar!" Doran calls out, the joke - and the drink - clear in his tone. "Don' go cuttin' 'im up now, to see wha' makes us halflings sush fine shailors! 'Tis a shecret none will ever know!" Though there's an instant of hesitation as some of the newer crew take in what is happening, their knowledge of the good works and good intentions of the senior crew combines with the innate dark humor of those who sail the sea, and the deck erupts in laughter at the notion that their kindhearted dwarven doctor is taking one of their number below to dissect him alive.
With his battered pewter mug held high, Doran calls out enthusiastically in response to Sandara's question, "Yea, I say, yea!" He takes a healthy swallow of his beer, the taste all the richer because he drinks as a free man. It takes him a moment to realize that Jako is still on his shoulder, undisturbed by the raucous celebration. "You're quite a special bird, ain't ye?" he says quietly to the brightly-colored parrot, but as he wonders whether the bird will answer, a knot of exuberant halflings rush Doran, their spirits high, and pound him on the back, singing a joyous song, nearly knocking him down in their enthusiasm, and the parrot flies off. He joins his new crewmates in a chorus, a half-remembered song from sailing in his youth, one with a surface meaning to please the Chelish masters and a deeper meaning for the enslaved sailors who dreamed of freedom. He considers how far he has come since he last sang this song and his heart fills with joy, and love for his friends. Calling them all together, Aaron, John, Ollie, Vrun and Thorn, he lays a hand on Vrunyar's shoulder, holding his mug out before him with the other hand. "My friends," he says, his voice quiet but pitched to be heard above the clamor of the party, "I raise my glass - well, my beat-up old mug - to ye all. A man couldn't wish fer a finer crew to sail with, and I'm proud to call ye shipmates. We've been through hell t’get to this place, and we may go through it yet again 'fore we're through. But ye've proved every word of an old seaman's toast, and I offer it to ye now: "The meek shall inherit the earth. The brave will get the oceans." To the brave!" With that, he holds his mug to his mouth until it's dry, then pulls it away to reveal a great, grinning face. As he does so, the blue parrot lands on his shoulder again, calling out, "To the brave! To the brave!"
Doran takes a moment to digest what he’s hearing, looking at Aaron and pondering all the different things that can be wrapped up in one person. He’s the son of a human and an undead blood-sucker that lives forever. He survived unbelievable horrors alone on that island, yet manages to find humor in the world. And he’s fought and nearly died by my side – we likely would not have made it to this point without him. ”Aaron,” he finally manages to say out loud, ”this is weird. Your father drank people’s blood! You could live longer than an elf! This is going to take some getting used to…” He’s interrupted by the blue parrot, who leaps from the table, briefly flares its wings, and alights nimbly on Doran’s shoulder. Doran, startled, lays a hand on the bird’s back and says, ”Well, hello…Jako, was it?” Turning back to Aaron, he says, ”Where was I? I think I was reacting to who your father was, and what’s in your blood. And you know what? That doesn’t matter. My own people have been enslaved for generations because the Chells – today’s Chells, that is, not you – have decided that halfling blood makes them slaves. And that’s wrong. And judging you on your blood would be wrong as well. So, even if you make a bloody awkward-looking sailor with that lily-white skin, you’ve proven yourself loyal and brave, a good man in a fight or a tight spot. A part of me can’t believe I’m saying this to a Chelishman with vampire teeth, but I’m happy to have you aboard, and proud to call you friend.” Striding forward, the parrot riding his shoulder as smoothly and lightly as a seasoned horseman, Doran extends a small, weathered hand to Aaron and says, ”Just do me a favor, eh? Vote to keep the ship’s name, to honor another friend who used to be her captain, in happier times.”
Doran listens attentively, a little puzzled why Aaron has brought them together to talk about the history of Cheliax and of his mother, but willing to sit and listen for a bit. When Aaron’s mouth splits into a grin and his long teeth are revealed, Doran’s hand flies to the hilt of his knife, but he’s able to stop himself from drawing the blade. Then his crewmate’s words sink in. ”A hundred and forty-two years?” he cries out. ”What in the hells are you? Whether Ollie feels he can ask it or not, I’ve got to safeguard the lives of the crew of this ship, and I want to know who – or what – I’m sailing with.” Calming himself with a visible effort, he casts a glance at his friends in the cabin, who’ve been with him through so much, and realizes Aaron has been through much of the horror with them. ”I’m sorry,” he says in a calmer tone, ”you surprised me. I owe it to you to hear you out. So what say you?” As he speaks, the blue parrot he’d been chatting with earlier flies in an open porthole and settles on the table in front of Doran. He looks at the bird in mild surprise, then turns his eyes to the porthole. Hopping down from his chair, he walks over and pulls the porthole shut, saying quietly, ”It’s hard enough keeping secrets aboardship. And this seems like one to keep.” He then looks expectantly at Aaron, wondering what the man’s story could possibly be. |