Josper Creesey's page

"The whole shootin match is flammable - and so is ours. If we need to sink her, you're the first person I'll call. My thought was that the ladies would help defend our ship if things go against us. But then you ladies are a bit more... capable than most of my previous female passengers. Just use fire in emergencies, please."

The distance between the two ships narrows rapidly.

"S'just the Bunyip sir." calls a mate from the top. "She's coming on like she means to engage us, though."

This is the ship that Zincher stole.

"Let's give her an early warning shot. Let her know that we're armed and can hurt them from afar. We'll judge them fair after that."

The crew goes through the paces and fires a thundering shot. A plume of white spray shows the line but was true but well short of the target. The crew flies through their routine to impress the captain.

Creesey replies. "That's good. Focus on their own tops first, then go for leaders or rally-men. Morale is the key to a ship action. The faster we take away their spirit, the faster we win."

"The cannon has that effect, but I don't want to maul her too bad if it comes to that. We'll use the cannon early and at range if we can."

"Colors, sir?" one of Creesey's mates calls out the question. He stands by a locker crammed full of flags.

"I think we should wear the red pennant today, on account of our fair guests." More moon-eyes at the ladies. "Let them guess what we mean by it."

He picks up a speaking trumpet at the wheel and calls down. "Quarrrr-ters!" He repeats it, pointed up at the rigging. The crew starts performing new tasks in every direction.

Places?

"We'll not fire first unless they cross us up. I cannot tell his intentions yet, except that he doesn't intend to surrender the weather gauge."

Looks like a website software push is causing some havoc. I know Rees was having a hard time posting without replying earlier with IE. We'll see how this one turns out from firefox.

Seeing Lia's hesitation, Creesey retreats. He takes the wheel himself for awhile, then hands the helm back over to one of his mates and paces.

Six hours of clear sailing on a steady breeze. The Flying Cloud truly flies with the right set of sails and Creesey apparently knows his trade.

Kwava passes the time meditating or staring at the chart of the island pinned out on Creesy's table. Samaritha reads a book of Creesey's collection for a little while, then withdraws to the corner trying not to be ill.

Suddenly a cry from on high rouses everyone.

"Sail Ho!"

"Where away?"

"Two points off the starboard bow."

Creesey takes his glass with him as he climbs to the top to see for himself. As you come out onto the deck, he slides down a backstay and lands on the deck nearby.

"It's a lone ship. Two masted. Coming from the direction of the island. No colors of any kind. If he's seen us, he hasn't reacted." He pauses for a moment, then continues - a fine piratical look in his eye.

"Could be he's loaded down with skymetal. Ain't no cargo more precious than that."

Creesey leads you back out into the sun, where he gives the order that will bring you to the island, then leads you around on a tour of his ship. The first thing he shows you is the gleaming brass bow chaser. It fires chipped-stone shot that's as large as a goblin's head and considerably rounder.

He muster's the firing crew and puts them through their paces. The tackle's let off, the charge loaded and primed, the carriage run back in, the match lit. He makes a demonstration of pointing the piece, then fires it himself.

The blast is deafening. The acrid black smoke, blinding. He looks back at you all with a blackened smile.

"No shot, of course. We only have twenty rounds for it, so we try not to fire them into the ocean."

Below decks he shows you to an impossibly small and damp chamber in the forepeak.

"This is where we'll sling the men's hammocks. I'll sling my own down here while we sail together." He points out your possessions in a crate on the floor.

"Naturally, the ladies will have my cabin," his eyes linger on Lia as he speaks. Diplomacy rolls of 27 do not go unnoticed.

"We'll fetch the island before night falls if the breeze holds just so. My guess is that it will."

Your group has the run of the ship.

Creesey spreads out a chart with Devil's Elbow in the corner.

"This damned island is surrounded by wicked reefs. Back in the day, we could beat a hasty retreat through these islands and shake a pursuer. Today, we just outrun them." He pats the huge mast that runs through his cabin affectionately.

"There's a couple of dilapidated docks in the cove on the north shore of the island. It's really the only viable landing that I know of on the island."

He looks around at you.

Spellcasters should make sure they've got their daily spells worked out. Everyone make a Fortitude Save at your convenience. Smoke 'em if you got 'em.

"You wouldn't credit it, but the wave was insignificant at sea. No comparison to the fireworks. We had no idea the scale of the thing until we came inshore and saw how far inland the wave ran. Is the town so devastated?"

He listens to your account of things, moving you into his cabin as your stuff is stowed below by the hands.

He thinks a bit, weighing his options. "We've been running the coast for weeks. We haven't watered in a long time. I was hoping to do it in Riddleport, but that seems unlikely. That means I need to shear off to Roderic's Cove sometime in the near future."

"I never figured you for a prospector Kwava. You need to get on the island for Lantern-bearer business, I'm assuming?"