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The hard wooden floor that the assembled adventurers found themselves on seemed to tip back and forth, and in the pitch-darkness of the enclosed area, one thing quickly became certain for the scattered gathering: they are on a ship. Even as vague memories flitted through their minds of a relatively hazy evening at the Formidably Maid the night previous, the muffled cries of a gull could be heard somewhere outside, though with the darkness being as it was, only the two females in the group of captives had a relatively easy time making out where they were.
It is quickly apparent that you have been locked up in a ship’s hold, a very spacious area almost thirty feet wide with large wooden pillars supporting it. On the side walls of the hold, a number of footlockers with keyed openings on their fronts sit stacked, twenty on either wall of the area.
The area is completely dark, and other than patches of further darkness, you really can’t make anything out save for noises coming from other people and the squalling of the birds outside.
An oily aftertaste, reminiscent of nutmeg or some other spice, is present in your mouths, as well as the flavors of what you’d consumed the night previous. For the moment, at least, things seem relatively quiet.
You’ll have a brief period to get acclimated to the tossing of the ship and converse a little, then I plan on moving things onward; likely, that’ll happen with a post tomorrow. Not too much time for gabbin’ when you could be working instead, after all! Congrats to Lilly for getting the first nat 20 of the game and starting things off with a bang! Hopefully, you're not using up all your luck this early into things. Nobody other than Lilly and Randall recognizes the taste.
Jaina spits a few times, the tang of blood mixing with the unpleasant taste of nutmeg. She looks around, starts feeling around--wait a minute.
"Feels like I've been hit by an ogre." She says, rather irritated and still groggy.
Bloody hell, I must've really tied one on last night. At least I'm not in that bloody f**king tavern again. The booze wasn't all that good anyway.
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"do i have to mother?" Percival half muttered aloud as he dreamt, though a strange voice sounding irritated cut through the bad dream. He sat up quickly, too quickly almost his eyes frantic. "By Besmara's heaving busom where am i?" He began trying to get his bearing onto what happened and where he was.
Jaina looks over at the scruffy man flailing around in the dark. He can't see it, but the expression on her face is one of irritation mixed with resignation.
"If I had to guess, we're in a ship's hold. Press-ganged." She says, feeling around in her clothes. The cold, reassuring feel of her brass knuckles brings a smile to her face.
"...and of course, I'm without any of my stuff. Figures."
Xiakon awoke and quickly began to pad his body. Feeling he was nearly unarmed save his beak he groaned a strange sounding noise. He began to feel around trying to see what he can get. He quickly grabs what ever he can get as he pipes up.
"Can anyone see were we are at an whats about us?"He says in common.
"Press ganged,so are items are most likely in the hold, maybe with the quartermaster? Hmmm" He got to his feet and began to feel his way about scrambling to find anything.
Jaina stands. The swaying of the ship causes her to stumble a bit.
She snorts. "I can see just fine. How about the rest of you?"
Randall slowly regains consciousness as his thoughts whirl around inside his head "Wow, that was some bender last night I fell asleep on the floor and it's still moving." Voices drift through the haze of his thoughts as he croaks out past parched lips "Hey, keep it down. A fella's trying to sleep here."
Licking his dry lips Randall catches a faint taste of nutmeg is two words drive like a hammer through the fog surrounding his brain "Press ganged." Realization dawns as he identifies the strange taste on his tongue "Oil of Taggart? Someone must have slipped me a Mickey." Rolling over he cracks his eyes to survey his surroundings and is greeted by nothing but darkness. A quick patdown reveals that everything he had last night is gone, except for a small pouch tucked into his waistbelt. "The weapons and armor I can understand, but to take a man's squeezebox? That just ain't right."
Getting unsteadily to his feet, a feat made all the more difficult by the pounding in his head, Randall calls out to the darkness "Who all is here? The names Randall, Randall McNally. But seeing as we are going to be working together for awhile at least, you can call me Rand."
"Well, this is another fine mess you've gotten your into Rand, old boy. Just roll with it and come up ready for the next surprise."
Conciousness returned to Radval abruptly, his eyes fluttered open and was the unwilling host to the cloak of darkness that surrounded him, the sounds of sea birds was not foriegn to him, but the different rhythems of breaths and varied conversing voices were. The young sorcerer tried to get up to his feet, all the while struggling with the once fammiliar rocking of a boat the mercy of the waves and the last remains of fatigue that still lingered within him. Taking a longer breath in an attempt to refresh himself, he was glad that the salty air of the sea was still about him.
Once enough his bearings were about him Radval began to more thoroughly notice that besides the clothes on his back and his old dagger he had nothing else, this sent a fammiliar drop of anger that rippled through his soul, for while he could live with losing Kaven's ring, he didn't like the idea of losing the memnto he kept from his time on Golrath's island. Slamming his fist against the wooden wall closest to him, Radval stood against the wall and began considering his options, but that proved to be a lot harderthanks to the chattering voices around him, while the idea of ignoring his fellow prisoners seemed appealing he dismissed it when he realized that they may know more about their situation than he did.
"Radval" Said the black haired teen when found a moment of silence amidst the discussion, his emotionless and whispery tone was all too fitting to their current surroundings.
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"Percival Asploric, of the ..." He cut himself off. Family ties wouldnt matter so much here, more importantly it might not be for the best to mention his linage. People might start to expect things he wasnt in position to give. "Not the first time, I suppose i have been forced into things... still I was in between ships anyhow a simple hey join us would have sufficed." He complained to no one really but himself. Like the others he ran his hands along himself smirking at the hidden slim dagger in the back of his boot.
Percival rose slowly, it was quickly apparent he was a large man. Tall and broad shouldered, he glanced at his new companions. "Well met Rand and i agree with your assessment, pressganged as we are the only people i think i can trust right now are in this room." He offered the man his hand.
Xiakon tried to focus on the voices as he didn't feel the boat shift to much for him to keep balance. His masters had taught him much in that aspect. he however had to agree with this Percival.
"Xiakon" He said making his voice sound distinctively bird like so they knew he wasn't some simple featherless like he assumed the others were."As for those that can see can you all help me out here with a general description of anything about the area we are in. It might hlep some of us navigate better." he asked hoping to find something that might aid him later on.
"...Jaina." The flame-haired woman says.
"You're in a ship's hold about thirty feet across. Several wooden pillars are keeping the roof up. And there's about..." She does a quick count. "...twenty footlockers on either side of us."
Of COURSE the bloody magpie's looking for baubles...
Dot. I'll post in a couple of hours.
"Do you see a door?" Asks Radval his face turning towards the voice that introduced itself as jaina Is she like me? Has she mastered it? Or was she born with the ability to see in the dark? He wondered as he began feeling the wall he was standing against with his hands.
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Jaina looks over at the center-north portion of the hold.
"There's a door over in the north part of the hold. It's shut pretty tight--doesn't let any light through. Couple of sconces on the walls, though. Hold on."
Jaina focuses on the fire in her blood, feeling it rising inside her, waiting.
Waiting for her signal.
"एक प्रकाश की आवश्यकता है?"
She stretches out her palm, sending a fan of flames towards the nearest torch sconce, trying to ignite it.
"A door eh?" He says as he sounds inquisitive as he than hears the strange language. He awaits for some one to light something.If I can get to the door I can possibly get us out of here
Lilly is the last to awaken. She hears voices, and her head aches. This is why I don't go to cities. This never happens to me in the open...well there was that time on Beggars Crotch Island. But, who are all these people...and where am I. As the bile began to rise in her throat, she tasted the culprit...Oil of Taggart...Oh no! Lilly then opened her one good eye, and raised herself to one elbow just in time to be completely blinded by a flash of open flame. Before the flash she did notice that she was in the hold of a shop, surrounded by a bunch of strangers.
Ahhhhh!
Then she remembered her faithful companion.
Intrigue was quickly replaced by surprise and shock, as Radval turned from the flame that brought a piercing light to their cage of darkness and faced the screaming woman besides them, his expression contorting into something close to anger "Silence!" He hissed in a venomous whisper like tone "We'll be lucky if that didn't already draw the attention of whoever kidnapped us" He continued before turning away from the half-orc and moving to the side of the door, in hope of remaining out of sight from whoever may interlude on their prison, for a few precious moments that may grant him an opportunity to ambush them.
Jaina smirks as the flames catch the torch sconce and set it alight.
She turns to the shifty-looking teen as he hides in the shadows next to the door to the hold, and rolls her eyes. He couldn't be serious about trying to ambush their captors now, could he?
The half-orc sitting up and flailing about for her... eyeball? also catches her attention.
"Odds are, your eyeball is in your head, like everyone else."
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I do not wish to be rude friend, but unless you are hideously ugly and trying not to disturb our female companions you should probably not get any crazy ideas. Percival began blinking rapidly now that the sudden flare of light had exploded. "I dont suppose you could warn us next time you plan of illuminatiing our situation?" He added rubbing his eyes. He was easier to see certainly, despite being tall he was also broad, his clothing looked fine, well tailored... yet obviously it had seen better days.
"we are press-ganged on a boat not at a dock somewhere friend in the shadows over there. We are un-armed and at a disadvantage lets not get hasty and think we can take our captors. Let us wait until the time is right...if indeed there is a time. I am Percival again, now that you all can see a face to the name."
"Oy, Lady Pyro. Let's take it easy on the fire, okay? I'm all in favor of overkill but a cone of flame to light a torch is a little much. Luckily nothing else caught fire along with that torch. Old wood and fire not a great mix." Randall says with a smile.
"I'm afraid I have to agree with Lord Percy over there." Randall looks over the other man's once fine clothes " At best all you'll catch is a beating, at worst we all catch one. There is a time and a place for everything and unfortunately this is neither."
Jaina arches an eyebrow at Rand.
"I don't suppose you had a flint and steel handy, then?" She asks dryly.
"we are press-ganged on a boat not at a dock somewhere friend in the shadows over there. We are un-armed and at a disadvantage lets not get hasty and think we can take our captors. Let us wait until the time is right...if indeed there is a time. I am Percival again, now that you all can see a face to the name."
" At best all you'll catch is a beating, at worst we all catch one. There is a time and a place for everything and unfortunately this is neither."
Radval's lips formed into an expressionless line, as his eyes stared at the two strangers that addressed him with a hint of annoyance If what they say is true He considered, before returning his focus on the group that shared this makeshift prison cell with him; the strangest among them was the tall woman, with hair like a bright flame and the bird-like individual. Given a more favorable situation he might have been curious about them, but now there were other pressing matters that required his attention.
"If there is a time?" He asked rhetorically, his voice not betraying any emotion that lurked within him. Chief among these emotions was anger...he didn't escape for Kaven, just to become a slave once more, but he wouldn't give his captors the pleasure of killing him, he'd escape...or massacre them all if it came to it, with that thought Radval instinctively raised his right arm and a beam of pure coldness shot forward from his palm, lowering the temperature in the room slightly before slamming into the unoccupied wall in front of him.
Randall cocks his head quizzically at the young woman "Flint and steel? No, I'm afraid not. But something equally useful" he says as he chants some singsong words and four orbs of light begin to circle around his head, each shedding light equivalent to the now lit torch. "Voilà, let there be light."
At the outburst from the shadows Randall smirks "Great, fire and ice. You two would make quite the pair. I can't wait to see your children."
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He chuckled as the man added the sobriquet lord to him already It seemed some things just were not avoided. He did frown at the young man in the shadows shot something into the wooden wall that 'cooled' the room for a moment. magic-users... He barely managed to shake his head. "There is always a time friend. How many sailors are on this ship? How many can your magic fell? five? ten? a score? Do they have casters of their own? Lets take a moment and think about this. They incapacitated us and then drug us here in the hold, left us unshackled. They took most of our things, which means they are careful, which means they will be wary." He glanced to the man who called him Lord and even the bird man and shrugged. Maybe if he just stood back and watched when they did come the only punishment would go to the young one and spare the rest of them. The fiery looking one was intruiging as was the bird man, but there would be time enough to ask their stories a bit later. he did glance around again, now that their was some light to see if anyone else was in the room besides the ones he had heard so far. Then the other man, This Randall fellow by his voice chanted and made magical lights and again Percivale shook his head. "Can everyone here use magic except me?" he said with a bit of a grin, trying to make a joke of it but glancing at the bird and the woma... the half orc still half prone on the ground.
At the outburst from the shadows Randall smirks "Great, fire and ice. You two would make quite the pair. I can't wait to see your children."
The display of the bard's arcane technique was not missed by Radval, who on instinct began searching through his memory for the name of the spell, he remembered it to be something the novices learned when they first started but...
What distracted him from this self imposed task was the jovial man's sense of humor that for some reason was unimpeded by their current predicament Is this his way of coping? Telling japes and hiding behind mockery? The pale teenager was about to consider the matter further but then...
He did frown at the young man in the shadows shot something into the wooden wall that 'cooled' the room for a moment. magic-users... He barely managed to shake his head. "There is always a time friend. How many sailors are on this ship? How many can your magic fell? five? ten? a score? Do they have casters of their own? Lets take a moment and think about this. They incapacitated us and then drug us here in the hold, left us unshackled. They took most of our things, which means they are careful, which means they will be wary."
The hard wall of logic showed no mercy to Radval, who despite his strong desire to be away from this place had to admit to the truths that rang clearly in the older man's words. The black haired sorcerer sat down slowly, and listened on; almost seeming like a child who was being scolded for acting out of order, but despite his supposed acceptance of what the man said, his eyes still held a defiant glint.
"Calmness comes easy to you" He commented, his eyes not leaving the warrior.
Jaina shrugs, choosing to let Rand's remark go unanswered.
She then folds her arms across her chest and leans against the footlockers.
"Nothing much to do now except wait for our captors to come get us."
Her eyes dart around the hold, taking stock of the items inside.
Torch is lit; could be useful in beating down anyone who tries something stupid. Could potentially start throwing footlockers, but I wouldn't be able to put out a steady stream... not much room to maneuver in here either...
Xiakon walks towards the door caring little for the varied spells lobed about. He also took little care of the words bantered. He was focused on trying to figure out who had his equipment. He cared little for most of the stuff he carried however his sword and his journal, that he cared about. His journal was were he would write his recipes.
At the door he began to run his hands along it testing the seams and the basic functionality of the door. He than tested to see if it would open. Once he let all that pass he turned and walked over to sit down on one of the foot lockers and looked at them.
"I agree, one must wait for the right time.We must assess the strengths and weaknesses of our captors and the crew garner not only information but possible allies to than strike a decisive blow and regain our freedom" Xiakon states calmly and rationally. It served no purpose to fight now when the would get a chance.Plus he would come back here to see what these lockers held, maybe just maybe he can get there stuff back.
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With the added lighting in the room, it took a few seconds for everyone's eyes to adjust, but as they did they could see that the door at the fore-part of the ship was apparently right in front of a staircase leading up to the higher levels of the ship. There were barrels and crates on the starboard side of it, and open space on the port side that led around the wood of the staircase and revealed more room in the hold. Another barrel seemed to rest in the middle of the hold, securing a trap-door that led downwards into the ships bilges.
As Xiakon investigated the door, he found that it was barred shut from the outside, fins on the exterior of the door in place to keep as much light as possible from intruding on the interior. Only unlocked chests were stacked upon one another, their contents nil except for a simple iron key inside each empty one. The others were locked. A strange crying sound could be heard far up in the distance in response to Lilly's cries for her animal compatriot.
The sounds of muffled conversation and footsteps growing louder soon became apparent, first to Xiakon who was closest, then the others, and the noise of the wooden bolt sliding back presaged the door opening outward. A human male with swarthy skin and braided, long black hair and beard that seemed to merge together, wearing a long waxed coat with multiple pockets over a bare chest and a pair of brown breeches steps into the dim light, holding a well-oiled bullwhip in both hands, folding it and giving it a crack; behind him, a skinny human female with flyaway blonde hair, buck-teeth, and large ears and wearing ratty pantaloons and a cropped top carries a lantern in her left hand, holding it over the whip-carrying man's shoulder, and a worn leather blackjack in her right.
As the males' eyes adjusted to the new-found light, the whip-carrying man smiled, revealing glints of yellow from teeth both capped in gold and somewhat rotten, and in a reedy holler, bellowed, "Puttin' lights on in the day, are we? Best t'put 'em out, then t'get movin' 'n on deck, ye filthy lubbers. Cap'n Harrigan wants ye t'get to work, 'nd ye'd best make haste or else, Fishguts'll be skinnin' the lot of ye 'nd servin' ye as chops when our workday be over! Up with ye, c'mon!" Several other pairs of legs were visible in the stairwell, further behind the man doing the talking and the awkward human female behind him.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm going. It's about f**king time you showed up anyway." Jaina says, pointedly ignoring the torch she lit. She walks up the stairs past Xiakon onto the deck of the ship.
Xiakon looked at the fiery haired woman and stood up and followed her out. It never hurt to follow someone so full of themselves. He easily looked to the man and woman. They seemed to think he was worried or intimidated. He shrugged and walked on.
" When will we be getting our stuff back, because I wish to reclaim my journal, I have a few recipes in it I do not wish to loose"he says hoping the man heard him as he followed the fiery woman in front of him.
Randall dismisses the glowing globes with a wave of his hand before looking the man over "Hmmm, filled with self importance and self worth. Definintly not the Captain or the First Mate, probably the Bosun or Sailing Master. So far I've seen better and I've seen worse." Randall shrugs his shoulders before saying "Begging the Master's pardon, sir, but what ship this be?"
Turning to the woman holding the lantern Randall gives a warm smile and a slight bow with a flourish of his hands "Lead on, m'lady. Wouldn't do to keep the Captain waiting, now would it."
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"Oh joy, here i was afraid we would be stuck down here all day waiting." Percival began taking a moment to stretch a bit, to loom a little and to eye the male speaker and size him up. He moved forward to follow the bird man Xaikon and the fiery Jaina. There would be time enough to attempt to learn all the officers on the boat, He was trying to place the name Harrigan though like Randall.
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A sour look spread over the man's face at what the fire-haired woman had to say, but before he opened his mouth, Xiakon asked his question, and the man's head shook side to side quickly as he sneered. "Ye'll get whatever yer given when it's given to ye." He was about to say more when Randall spoke, and the sneer moved off of the man's face a bit. "Yer on the Wormwood, boyo, one'a the finest in all the Shackles!" The sneer reappeared when Randall spoke to the freckle-faced woman, though for all his effort, she blushed warmly for a moment before looking embarrassed.
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There were squealing sounds at the top of the set of steps leading up to midship, and they ended in the huge middle hold of the ship. Stacks of boxes of provisions, crates of trade goods, and barrels surrounded a pen with fourteen squealing, live pigs. Oddly, a burly, bald, and scarred human whose skin showed signs of having been tarred and feathered was lashed to the foremast on this level, making loud moaning noises punctuated by giggles and slurred speech.
Among the others who'd accompanied the whip-bearing man were a pinch-faced, skinny halfling in oversized pants and tunic that'd both been patched numerous times, a stout half-elven woman with grey strips of hair on top of her head and shaved patches between the stripes, a red-headed human woman whose eyes were rimmed in deep purple bruising and who squinted maliciously at just about everyone, a buck-toothed and fly-away haired blonde human woman whose face was spattered with freckles and whose clothes were a bit too tight, even for her lanky frame, and a massive Rahadoumi with matted hair who glowered sourly, all armed with blackjacks similar to the shorn-headed man who'd been behind the whip-bearer.
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The whip-bearing man and the others kept the newcomers in their sights as they ferried them up another level and to the main deck. A massive Garundi man, obviously the captain, with a shorn head, a long beard bound in ornate gold rings, and an eyepatch with a huge sapphire in its middle stood, talking to a younger, balding man with a long black ponytail, wearing a long coat and with a well-used cat-o'-nine-tails on his hips. Other crew members were milling about, either in the rigging or on the deck, and three other apparently new crew were looking nervously around them: a small, muscular halfling woman with a very unhappy look on her face, a young-but-tough Varisian man wearing a long bandanna, a black vest over a white and open shirt, and a pair of dark breeches, a foppish-looking gnome in gaudy pirate clothing and a ridiculously floppy purple hat, and a feisty-looking red-headed human woman wearing a tricorne hat, a blouse with a ruffled neckline, and a crimson pair of pantaloons with dark boots, a sword hanging at her hip as she smirked, seemingly unconcerned with her surroundings.
Holding his hand up to the others as he led them above-decks, the man with the whip halted the newcomers as the Captain caught sight of them. Giving a brutally savage looking smile, the Captain walked over to the assembled new 'recruits' and spoke in a deep, chesty voice. "“Glad you could join us at last! Welcome to the Wormwood! My thanks for ‘volunteering’ to join my crew. I’m Barnabas Harrigan. That’s Captain Barnabas Harrigan to you, not that you’ll ever need to address me. I have only one rule—don’t speak to me. I like talk, but I don’t like your talk. Follow that rule and we’ll all get along fine."
“Oh, and one more thing. Even with you new recruits, we’re still short-handed, and I aim to keep what crew I have. There’ll be a keelhaulin’ for anyone caught killin’ anyone. Mr. Plugg! If you’d be so kind as to make pirates out of these landlubbers, it’ll save me having to put them in the sweatbox for a year and a day before I make pies out of ’em.”
Finished saying his piece, the Captain simply walked away as the balding Mr. Plugg grinned evilly. His voice was throaty, almost raspy, but filled with conviction as he said, "You heard the Captain, right? You're all going to be put to work, and if you don't like it, well, hopefully you like the lash or being run 'round the boat." Pointing to the six that'd been brought up, then to the main mast on the deck, he said, "Start climbing and don't stop until one of you's reached the top. I don't care who it is, just do it." The main mast had to be sixty feet up, and at the top of the crow's nest was a decent-sized bird-like lizard, being shooed at by the pirate stationed in the nest. Motioning to some of the crew who'd been herding them, he added, "Make sure you catch them if they fall. Like the Captain said, we're already short on crew."
Jaina nods at Mr. Plugg, then leaps into action, scaling the rigging.
She ascends with such speed one would be forgiven for believing she was born in the rigging.
"Child's play." She mutters as she climbs.
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Just about everyone on deck, save for the Captain, looked at Jaina as she practically flew up the rigging, scaling it faster than seemed humanly possible. "Well, that's settled," Mr. Plugg said, seeming a bit shocked, and he motioned for the fit and fire-haired woman to come back down. Glaring at the others, he said, "Consider yourselves lucky that we got a natural. Now, what about victuals? Can any of you cook?"
Jaina smirks and climbs back down.
"What can I say; I've had a lot of practice."
Finally wholly awake, and relieved to see Eyeball alive and present, Lilly almost misses the question.
She steps forward..."Cook". "I can cook". "And, I've done so aboard ship as well".
"I can cook as well, In fact one of the journals I had with me I kept notes in for my recipes" he pointed back down to where the pigs lie.
"I noticed the pigs you had below, I can cook a various things with said animal as well as fish. How does a bacon wrapped pork cutlet in an onion gravy sound?" he says detailing his dish hoping to when this mans approval.
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"Hello ladies." Percival began as he made his way through the throng of sailors there to insure compliance. The captains speech was unispiring at best. He hated the man already. He kept his mouth shut though. Percival blinked at the rapid speed in which the flame haired one moved up the ropes. He was by no means unaccustomed to rigging and ropes but that...that was pretty impresive.
When she hit deck again he gave her a polte nod and a slight applause. "Impressive and well done."
When the door opened to the hull Radval forced his gaze at his feet; not trusting his ability to hide his angry, defiant glare, and so he continued his observation of the floor only looking up at any of the crew when he felt that they weren't looking his way...if he were to learn of these pirates it would be best if they saw him as obedient I'll have you killing each other for kiddnaping me you bastards thought the young man as the flash of anger that came over his face was replaced by well veild astonishment at the amazing feat the tall woman had pulled off...but was it magical or physical is what mostlyconcerned Radval as he saw her swift ascent.
Randall blinks his eyes as he emerges into the sunlight from the gloom below deck. Looking around after his eyes adjusted and seeing nothing but water all around the ship he grimaces "Well, there goes swimming for it. No help but to play along until a chance arises to escape."
After listening to the Captain's speech, if you wanted to call it that, Randall gets ready to climb the rigging but before he can set foot to rope the flame haired woman from the hold is already halfway to the top climbing like a spider monkey. Jumping down from the railing Randall makes his way over to the other obvious new recruits, letting out a low whistle and a slow clap. "Impressive, isn't it" he says over his shoulder to no one in particular. Turning to look the three others over, Randall extends his hand "Looks like we're shipmates now. Randall's the name, but friends call me Rand, and I do hope that we can be friends." He smiles beamingly at the young woman in the hat.
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As Randall moved over to the red-headed woman in the tricorne hat, she did her best to keep a smile from her face, but as he got closer, he could see the ornate pirate tattoos that her arms bore and the ebony symbol of Besmara around her neck on a silvered chain. Smoke came from the clay pipe she had clutched in the left side of her mouth as she said, "Sandara Quinn. Well met, Rand." The muscular halfling woman glared at both of them and muttered, "Shut yer holds, y'stupid fooks."
Looking between the half-orc woman and the tengu, Mr. Plugg deliberated for almost a full minute before he finally pointed at Xiakon and said, "You'll do for the new cook's mate." Motioning to Lilly, Percival, Radval and Randall, he said, "Rest of you'll be swabs. Master Scourge'll get your assignments for the day. Don't mess 'em up!"
The whip-bearing man looked over the bunch with a sadistic glee that showed on the strained look that seemed to be his grin. "I want ye," he said, pointing to Jaina, "t'work on raisin' and lowerin' the mainsail today." To Randall, he said, "Bilges duty for ye and the redhead, since ye like jabberin' so much." His eyes fell on Radval and said, "Paleface, ye need some sun, so ye'll be swabbin' deck up here." Motioning to Percival, he said, "Pretty Chelly, ye'll be tyin' 'nd luggin' rope, 'nd yer li'l half-greenie gally-pal gets rat-'n-bug huntin' duty below decks. Hop too!"
Guiding Xiakon belowdecks, he said, "Yer with Kroop in the galley." Leading the tengu through the middle hold and into a cramped area, Xiakon could see the cramped and chaotic kitchen. It held two wooden worktables, several wooden cupboards, and two small stoves against the port wall, as well as virtually every cooking utensil imaginable
and a frightening array of meat cleavers. A score of chickens and three goats wander freely throughout the chamber; the goats are meant to be caged, but have a distressing tendency to escape their bonds. The kitchen is a madness of dirt, food, and knives. The stoves
are perpetually lit, and large cauldrons bubbled away atop them. A huge array of spices mingle with barrels of rainwater, two tuns of rum, cupboards full of ship’s biscuit and salted beef, barrels of sauerkraut, and a small supply of fresh vegetables picked up in Port Peril.
On a massive overturned pot sat a paunchy, middle-aged human male with receding brown hair tucked beneath a chef's hat, his white apron completely stained with blood and other substances, and his clothes in utter disarray. He looked up to Master Scourge and Xiakon with bloodshot eyes and hiccupped, saying, "Whaddya want?" to which Scourge replied in a snide, terse tone, "Here's yer new cook's mate, ye bloody lush. Make sure ye serve sommat good tonight!"
Jaina nods at Master Scourge.
"Aye aye, sir."
She spends her shift saying hardly a word to anyone.
Manning the mainsail is indeed strenuous work: in fact, she runs herself ragged her first day on the job.
By the end of her shift, Jaina's muscles are practically begging for a rest.
I knew spending too long in the hold wasn't going to do me any favors.
Shuffling away silently to the nearest mop after receiving his orders, Radval gave one last look of contempt at Scourge before carrying his inanimate companion for the day over his shoulder and heading to the area he was ordered to swab, the salty wind of the sea the only thing consoling him as he walked the deck of the ship he planned to get acquainted with very soon.
Rays of heat and light kept on the pressure on the young man as he repeated the same motion for the umpteenth time. If he knew that he would staring at the floor of the ship for the rest of the day he would have considered not doing so much of that prior to receiving this job. Pushing and pulling the wet mop across the ship soon became second nature to him, which gave him sometime to sneak a glance or two at the area around him, but what he didn't take into consideration was that his legs have mostly forgotten what it is like to work on a constantly swaying boat, which made him step into the bucket next to him, lose his balance and fall on his back.
Radval's eyes were only closed for but a few moments, but when he opened them and was greeted by the harsh light of the sun, he placed his arm above his eyes in an effort to protect them and wished he could be in the shade of that hull once more.