Nimm:
Kaull:
Adrick:
Quick:
“This is the naval recruitement office isn’t it?” Quick asked, just to be sure.
“Aye, gov, that it is.”
“Well, then, I’m in the right place. I’ve come to enlist,” he added with a bright smile.
The burly man looked at him as if he’d suddenly grown a second head. “’Ey, ‘Arry,” he called through an open door that looked to lead into a small back room. “Come ‘ere, ye’s got to ‘ear this.”
A burly tattoed orc with impressively carved and capped tusks came to the door. “Wot’s ye goin’ on about then?” he growled.
“This ‘ere lad wants to enlist,” he said, indicating Quentin.
The orc scratched his head. “A purpose?” he asked, confused.
“Came in on ‘is own two feet, so ‘elp me, Gozreh.”
“Well, that’s new. Wot ye want me t’ do ‘bout it?”
“Take ‘im on over t’ the Abigail. They’s recruiting new ‘elp jes’ now. Get ‘im introduced all proper-like”
The orc shrugged. “Follow me,” he growled to Quick before leading him to his new ship.
Fineal:
Harry the Orc was not one to take getting cheated lightly. And he had a bit of a sadistic side which he enjoyed exercising on a regular basis as a recruiter for the Royal Navy. So he took more than a little pleasure in not only beating Fineal into a bloody pulp, but then despositing him on the Abigail. “Let’s see ye talk yer way out of this, heh, heh,” he chuckled maliciously as he left.
Sanura:
“’Ello, sweetie, ye’s new ‘ere, ain’t ye?” she said with a gap-toothed grin. “Woops,” she said shrilly, nearly toppling over the table as a sailor bumps into her from behind. “Eh, watch it now, ye lazy sod,” she screeches before she turns back to Sanura. “Sorry about that, luv,” she says and stops to pat Fish before she heads on with a cheery wave. Sanura shrugged and went back to eating her dinner. But then the room started to spin. The old woman was there again smiling greasily at her. “’Ad too much, luv? Well, then, let Ol’ Molly ‘elp you, duck.” Next thing she knows it’s morning and she and Fish both wake up groggily on a ship.
Garan:
Arioch:
Nimm swore as he picked himself up, brushing off the imagined dust of his wounded dignity. He then smiled to himself, 'Heck, at least I had my fun before they tossed me!'
“Alright, ye lazy scum, up and at ‘em. Ye’ve had more ‘an enough time to sleep it off, bilge rats.”
Most of you are just coming to, although one gentleman in particular seems to be waiting cheerfully at attention, somewhat oblivious to the plight of the rest of you.
Pacing the deck in front of you is a big bruiser of a man. He’s ugly enough to cast doubt on his claim to humanity, and there’s an evil gleam in his eyes as he smiles at the lot of you.
“This ‘ere ship is the Abigail, and you sorry lot are the newest members of her crew. Welcome to the Navy, rats. Ye’ve signed on fer a two year tour of duty…minimum,” he adds with a grating chuckle. “Best resign yerselves to that now, rats. I’m the Bo’sun on this here boat, which means any of ye’s step out of line, yer ass is mine,” he adds with another evil smirk, and a kick for the nearest recruit still on the ground. “Now look lively and get yerselves together afore the Cap’n comes on deck.”
He pauses for a moment before bellowing, “Well, was I talking to meself here? Look lovely, rats. Or ye’ll have me t’ answer to.”
With a last glare at you he goes inside one of the cabins, presumably to speak to the Captain.
Quentin relaxes from attention when the boatswain moves below decks, making his away around to the different places on deck that people have been piled, offering a hand and a smile to help them to their feet.
Seeing as how most of them look rather inebriated, there must have been quite a party the night before to celebrate their first steps into something more then themselves. Pity he wasn't invited, really, but on the other hand he wants to be at his best and brightest to make a good impression on the captain today.
"Hello, everyone. Quentin Silverhome is the name, though you may call me 'Quick' of course. Hopefully you all are well rested, just because we are only now leaving the harbor doesn't mean we can afford to be lax in our alertness."
He glances around, seeming less comfortable with the idle chatter than he would be with something more direct, he tries to make light of things.
"Its quite a... Um, fine ship we have here. Though it could probably use as much scrubbing as our friendly bos'un there." A quick glance at the cabin is given to make sure that wasn't overheard. "I imagine that we'll have this vessel in shape and be the fear of the seas in no time."
"I'm pretty sure I've set fire to better ships than this, peacock." Nimm looks somewhat happy, even as he insults his new shipmate. "Well at least she floats and she doesn't seem to have too many holes in 'er. Well, save for the blowholes I see 'round her! You heard the fat and boisterous excuse for what passes for humans, lads, up and at 'em!"
"Oh, and my name's Nimm. I got the water in my blood and the fire in my heart, but the rest is mine alone. For once it looks like I'm not the strangest thing to sail on this little ship of ours!"
Quentin grins a bit at the mutterings Nimm makes.
Just try not to set fire to this one as well then.
A man in a large green coat lays on the floor, clutching his sides and moaning about how that damn half-orc knocked out a tooth. He groans louder when the bosun plants a foot in his stomach. "Oh, i gettin' up, gettin' up" He gingerly picks himself up and leans against the nearest railing. He looks out to the rest of you with a wide, if somewhat pained, grin.
"Morning all. I'm Honest Fineal, Purveyor of Quality Elixers. Sadly, sales are currently closed due to internal bleeding."
Garan scowls as the bosun gives his little speech, his scowl deepening at the words "two years".
He cocks EDIT:penised? an eye at Fineal, notes the idle chatter from Quentin and Nimm, but decides not to make conversation.
He stretches, resigning himself to two more miserable years at sea.
peers after the Bosun, "Is that a human?"
Without looking at anyone in particular, "What do you all do for this ship? I am curious."
"Yer curious? Can't wait to find out what yer indentured servitude is gonna be like, eh?"
Quentin gives a bit of a glance at the dwarf and then smiles at the Gillman. "The captain will most likely give us our particular instructions and duties, though there is always much to do on a ship. The more menial tasks such as cleaning and manning the bilge are just as important as the more flashy task such as navigation and lookout. Not to mention jobs such as the quartermaster who keeps the men in line and there are always stocks and supplies to be counted. Plus, as we are now all members of the navy it would due for us to stay in top form and train well for when we meet pirates or some foul beast harassing a poor fishing boat."
He turns to Fin and gives a half bow before moving in closer and looking over his obvious wounds. "I'm certainly no doctor, friend, but you do seem rather dinged up. You must have had quite a wild night last night. You'll want to remain at attention for the Captains introduction, but after we are released I'll help you down to the bunks so you can rest."
"The captain will most likely give us our particular instructions and duties, though there is always much to do on a ship. The more menial tasks such as cleaning and manning the bilge are just as important as the more flashy task such as navigation and lookout. "
Nimm smiles at this, "Spoken like a man who just volunteered for bilge duty!" He strolls across the heaving deck without problem. "If you're new to a ship, you'll probably be scrubbing a lot of decks. That one (he points at Finneal) he'll be scrubbing a LOT of deck!"
"Yer curious? Can't wait to find out what yer indentured servitude is gonna be like, eh?"
Tilting head to one side, "Having only recently spent time on what is called freighter, before coming to this Navy ship, I merely wished to understand better what it is that you do up here on the surface."
He turns to Fin and gives a half bow before moving in closer and looking over his obvious wounds. "I'm certainly no doctor, friend, but you do seem rather dinged up. You must have had quite a wild night last night. You'll want to remain at attention for the Captains introduction, but after we are released I'll help you down to the bunks so you can rest."
"Let's see, getting beaten by an angry orc and being tossed into the nearest ship? Yeah, I'd call that a wild night. Still, I shouldn't need your help to get to the bunks. How hard could it be to find a bunk, eh?"
*stands quietly looking at he fellow 'recruits'*
"I Kauul, warrior-mage."
(signs)Arioch, it is good to see you again my friend. How have you been since our last meet?(/sign)
Waking up groggily Adrick picks himself up and looks about his surroundings, then quickly placing a hand to his waist breathes a sigh of relief as he touches the cool metal surface of the holy symbol in the belt pouch, a cooling relief washes over the young lad. The dizzy feeling passing but the head ache hanging around (Sarenrae not wanting her cleric to get sick on the first day out but wanting him to learn a lesson).
Coming to stand with the group after the initial wake up Adrick says "Gotta remember to not drink so much...don't remember.." realising hes talking his thoughts out loud, Adrick turns slightly red in the face before saying "Oh sorry, didn't realise I was thinking out loud. The name's Adrick Balasar, cleric of Sarenrae. Looks like we are together for the next couple years eh" Adrick introduces himself, though he seems to remember the blur faces and feels as though he recently did this
Quentin grins at Nimm's remark, taking it in jest and responding in a competitive spirit. "I imagine we all will get a turn in the bilges while the captain sorts out who among us are fit for the roles that let us see some sunlight. You have the look of a sailor about you, we shall have to see who sees it first."
He gives a respectful nod to Fin and pats the man firmly on the back, likely more firmly then you should someone who is nicely bruised up. "That is likely for the best, friend. I truly know nothing of medicine beyond recommending a good nights rest to sleep it off. Unfortunately, until you get your sea legs you won't be having too many of those. Likely not after either. Seems a small crew for a ship this size, means more work to go around."
Turning his gaze to the others, Quentin gives a polite nod to each. He gives an awkward salute to the hobgoblin, knowing little about their culture but that they have a militaristic lifestyle so assuming it is appropriate somehow."A pleasure to meet you, Adrick and Kauul. As I mentioned earlier, I am Quentin Silverhome, but you may call me Quick. I'm quite at home aboard such a vessel, so if you are unsure of something and don't wish to disturb our massive friend the boatswain or the captain, I am more then happy to help."
Finally he nods to the gillman and dwarf."I'm afraid I didn't catch your names, friend. You both look stable enough on the boat, but as for what is expected of you, I imagine that it comes down to 'if the captain says it, do it'. Being new recruits, we are likely bottom of the barrel for the time being, so I suspect we'll be answering to that charming fellow you've already met, as well as the quartermaster and first-mate, depending on the size of the remainder of the crew, but captains word is law.
As for what is likely to happen on the surface, well I imagine there is a lot more scrubbing up here then below the waves. Without a particular mission being briefed for yet, I couldn't say too more. We may be looking for pirates, kua toa, or perhaps just escorting some cargo. I wouldn't imagine the navy will pile too much more on us until we prove to be a bit less... Well," The grin clearly returns as he looks around him. "Ragtag."
She groans a bit, feeling the wet nuzzle of the snout of her companion. She opens her eyes, quickly closing them to a squint at the bright sunlight. What had happened the night before? She didn't remember much, only that she had been at a tavern, and some woman had approached her, and then nothing else.
Where was she? She stands up, swaying back and forth, another groan escaping her. Was this a ship? Felt like one. She did know the sway of a ship on the ocean, it was a common occurrence in her life. She places her hand on the head of her wolf, then finally hears the man pacing the deck yelling. The Navy? She was part of the Navy? How had that happened? Blinking in confusion, she looks at the rest of her shipmates, listening to their introductions. She nods to them all, raising a hand in greeting, "Aye, well met. The name is Sanura. Sanura Agashti. And this her mangy mutt is Fish." She ruffles his fur affectionately, smiling down at him.
She looks towards the priest, hearing him and letting out a laugh, "Oh yes, you and me both good sir. Seems we both had a rough evening."
Hearing the Boatswain's shouts above deck, Garan gathers any gear he had set down and begins to make his way above to the deck.
He remarks over his shoulder on his way out: "Me name's Garan. And if you be smart, you'd best get your bloody BLEEP!es up to the deck 'fore that BLEEP!hole comes back."
"Spoken like a sailor! On your feet, apes! Up the ladder, and line up, heels together, hands at yer sides. When the Captain comes on deck, snap to salute and hold it until he says 'At ease.' Keep your eyes straight ahead, don't speak unless spoken to, and always say yer Sirs. Remember it's 'Yes Sir' if he asks you a question that requires a yes/no response and 'Aye Sir' if he gives you a command. Got it? Let's MOVE IT, Sea Dogs!"
Quentin gives a polite half-bow to the woman in the group as she introduces herself, though he glances somewhat warily at the wolf at her side. He chuckles slightly, raising an eyebrow towards Nimm as he gathers his own gear. "Spent some time as a quartermaster, have we? Fair enough, I suspect this bunch can use some shaping up. By your leave."
With a nod of his head to the man, Quentin scoops up his own supplies, glancing around to see if any of the others need assistance. Otherwise, he makes he way up to the deck, setting his stock in a neat pile behind him and readying himself at attention for the captains arrival.
Fin pats down his coat, occasionally removing a small bag and checking inside. "Well, might as well get this over with." He walks over to the ladder, limping slightly, and climbs up. Some of you may note he climbed up slightly faster than it seems he should, given how injured he seems.
Closing his eyes Adrick whispers a brief word to his goddess before climbing the stairs and taking the advice, no matter the severity of his hangover. Damn that fine drink the cleric cursed to himself. Standing as told Adrick waits to hear the orders that are surely coming
These are very rough sketches, but since they are all I have done, and are in fact what I’ve been working from, they’ll just have to do for now.
“Look lively, rats, Captain on deck!” The Bo’sun bellowed as he stepped outside, standing to attention by the side of the door as the Captain swept past him. A grizzled Halfling followed him and stood at attention on the other side of the door while the Captain paced the deck looking at the new recruits disdainfully.
He was dressed in an immaculate uniform and smelled vaguely of some floral cologne. His boots were shined so brightly you could see your reflection in them. This dandy moved in a crisp, disciplined manner however.
“Let me make one thing very clear to you now,” he said in a refined accent, “I expect nothing less from you than perfect, complete, unquestioning obedience. There are no circumstances in which I consider insubordination to be justified and such will be punished severely. I am Captain Vedix d’Azora. You will address me as Sir or Captain. You have already met Bo’sun Tak, and this,” indicating the Halfling, “is the first mate, Jep Pennywhistle. You will receive your orders primarily from them as I have better things to do with my time than handhold raw recruits.”
The Captain turned to the Bo’sun. “Give them their orders. Pennywhistle, get us under way.”
“AYE, CAP’N,” both men said in unison.
“ALL HANDS ON DECK!” bellowed the first mate.
“Aye, sir,” called down a heavily tattoed drow female from the crow’s nest.
An ooze slid up between the cracks in the planks of the deck. “Aye, sir,” it blubbed before taking its place at the helm.
Several sailors came up from the hold, giving you suspicious glares as they delivered their “Aye, sirs,” and took their stations. Among them are a kobold, a half-orc female with a lot of piercings, a gaunt human male with a wickedly sharp hook for a hand, a githyanki with an eyepatch, what looks suspiciously like a zombie, a kenku, a shadar-kai, and a minotaur.
The bo’sun bellows at you, “All right, rats, time fer ye t’ get t’work. Ye’ll be cleaning t’ bilge today, an’ I won’t tolerate no bellyachin’. Step lively, now! Get yer sorry selves below!”
"Aye, Bo'sun! Quick, march 'em down and show 'em where it is. I'll take rear!" Nim falls to the side, standing at attention as the recruits file past and falls in as the last of them pass by. "Double time, double time!"
Quentin quickly falls into line himself, knowing that several of the others don't know their way around a ship so well, he moves in the lead so that there isn't any problems with being unsure where they are headed.
"Yes, Sir. Look forward to working for you, Sir."
Quentin quickly falls into line himself, knowing that several of the others don't know their way around a ship so well, he moves in the lead so that there isn't any problems with being unsure where they are headed.
"Yes, Sir. Look forward to working for you, Sir."
The Bo'sun gives you an evil glare.
"We'll just see about that, boyo," he mutters.
Upon hearing that he is assigned to Bilge duty, the almost permanent scowl he bears deepens a bit more.
"A'right, bilge duty 'tis then."
Garan trudges towards the bilge, grumbling slightly under his breath.
She looks flustered at all the activity that is going on, frowning as she looks to the crew. She looks at the captain, folds her arms over her chest, nods, then moves on. She moves to where she needs to, looking back at Nimm and raises an eyebrow.
Fin opens his mouth, then rapidly closes it as he realizes he's already been beaten once this week, and doesn't feel like risking another. He weakly follows the others, as he slowly starts scowling.
"Yes sir!" Adrick belted as he takes his place with the rest of the recruits and heads down to carry out his task
Fin opens his mouth, then rapidly closes it as he realizes he's already been beaten once this week, and doesn't feel like risking another. He weakly follows the others, as he slowly starts scowling.
Seeing the bruised guy start to scowl, Nimm falls into line beside him. Under his breath he tells Fineal: "Keep yer head down, keep yer eyes on the ground. Do yer work and after a couple days of hard work, beatings and honest hazing, you'll be accepted and the bilge'll be the next schlubs' work."
Seeing the bruised guy start to scowl, Nimm falls into line beside him. Under his breath he tells Fineal: "Keep yer head down, keep yer eyes on the ground. Do yer work and after a couple days of hard work, beatings and honest hazing, you'll be accepted and the bilge'll be the next schlubs' work."
"Oh, no, it's not because of bilge duty. My predictamint has just begun to sink in. I'm stuck on a boat. For two years. Because an orc didn't read the fine print on his warrenty. I'm just a bit bitter, is all."
*falls in line ahead of Arioch and follows Quick to the bilge*
(signs)
*briefly considers provoking Tak, but decides to wait until gathering more info on the "guy"*
Quentin gives the boatswain a cheerful grin before disappearing below decks to proceed to work, knowing the trouble he is certainly putting himself into, but there is that small bit of irrepressible rebellious spirit in him that can't be contained.
"Oh, I meant the Captain, Sir." He gives a tip of his head and then hurries down below, setting to work with a drive even for this menial task as if he were trying to keep pace with the dwarf who is obviously far more muscular.
*falls in line ahead of Arioch and follows Quick to the bilge*
(signs)
** spoiler omitted **(/signs)
(sign)
*Follows Kauul down to the bilge, readying prestidigitation for use in the bilge.*
She looks to the two signing, watching with great interest. She tilts her head to the side slightly, trying to see if she can maybe guess what they were saying. Not being able to, she shrugs, then heads down to get to work, Fish following behind her faithfully.
You are faced with what is certainly the most foul and disgusting mess you have ever seen. There are otyughs who would cringe away from it in disgust. The Bos'un gives you an evil grin and chuckles.
"'Ave fun cleaning that out, rats," he growls "The pilot lives down here and as ye can see, he's none too neat a feller." With that parting shot he heads back up to the deck.
Fin bends over, gagging slightly. "How in the Nine 'ells did one ooze do all that?", he mutters. After glancing around for any cleaning supplies, he begins rolling up his coat sleeves and pant legs.
Fin bends over, gagging slightly. "How in the Nine 'ells did one ooze do all that?", he mutters. After glancing around for any cleaning supplies, he begins rolling up his coat sleeves and pant legs.
Somewhere in the muck you see a bucket or two bobbing, and what might possibly have once been the handle of a mop.
*looks at the mess*
*motions to the mess* "Beneath, yes."
*motions to the rest of the ship* "Earn respect."
(signs)
Also, I think it would be a good thing to find out what our dear pilot wishes us to keep from amongst this mess.
Nimm takes a deep breath, pulls off his boots, wades in barefooted, grabs a mob and bucket and starts cleaning.
Profession Sailor: 1d20+7=15
"Breathe through yer mouths, lads. Try not to think o' what yer doin' and just get to work. Sooner started, sooner done!"
Taking just a moment to remove his own boots and roll up his pants legs to try and keep as much of the grime off his finery as possible, Quentin grins a bit, pulling his collar up over his mouth.
"Don't worry, its amazing how quickly you get used to this. Of course thats probably because the amonia in the air burns out your sense of smell completely. Dig in, show a strong back, and I'm sure we'll be scrubbing the decks in no time."
After being certain his coat would not get wet, Fin tries to help clean.
"Aye" Adrick says in agreement with the others as he continues to scrub. He then adds "More of a cook but have some expierience as a sailor."
Profession sailor (1d20+4=14)
*notices his attempt to organize the cleaning efforts are being ignored*
*removes his boots and rolls up his pant legs*
She wrinkles her nose in disgust, watching the others and trying to mimic what they were doing to get things clean.
*Nods in agreement with Kauul* grabbing a somewhat clean rag or cloth, tears it into strips with two longer for himself and the strange four-legged companion of the female. Casting prestidigitation on the handful of strips to create a heavy sea breeze smell to filter out the disgusting fumes in the bilge area. Passes them out among the group, demonstrating how to stuff the two ends into their nostrils to help keep the smell out. Wraps his gills with his longer piece and hands the other piece to the female for the animal companion. "This will only filter the scent for about an hour. I can renew the scent if it wanes on you."
(signs)