Open Chronicles Recruitment Drive

[Talia Frost]

The tavern at Cerak-AtThul was an absolute mess, drunkards strewn on the floors and passed out on tables. Talia found herself in a corner, and she was picking at her teeth with a fishbone. Toothless Bill was talking to potential recruits to come sail aboard her ship The Salty Bitch, and he was promising treasures and adventures out in the blue sea. Talia’s thoughts were elsewhere, and she thought about all the Kivren she was going to hunt and kill. Their scales were worth quite a bit in the black market, and their hearts were delicacies and sold for fortunes.

“Billy!”

“Aye!”

“How many have we got?”

“Er…” He scratched his chin and grimaced, “We’re havin’ a bit a trouble this time…” He was afraid to make eye contact with her - Talia was known for her temper - “M-Maybe if-if we was to pay a little bit more-”

He stopped speaking as Talia threw an empty flask at his head. Talia spat out the fishbone and scowled at him, “Do I look like I have extra money to give away?! That’s the whole point of getting a better crew, you damn amoeba!”

Toothless Bill looked as if he would shit himself, and promptly shut up. Talia growled in frustration, glancing up to look at the prospects they could recruit from the tavern. Most of them looked too old, too drunk, too stupid or just plain wretched.

 

[Gkok Angfee]

Gkok didn't knock on the door as he entered the tavern even if that joke had been made before in the past to him. No he simply marched right through the door into the tavern. Taking it in in a single glance, he grunted in mild annoyance at the lack of music.

Who the fuck had a tavern and didn't encourage at least some fucking music? None of the miserable fuckers at the bar wanted to hear themselves think - it would end up being far too quiet. Making his way over to the bar he slapped down some coins.

"Giv' sum' grog." he demanded bluntly, "Good an' stron'."

Taking the tankard of foul-smelling alcohol that was passed to him, he took a drink. It wasn't the worst he had ever had but it was close. Hearing the commotion about wanting better crew, Gkok wandered over, pushing a small man out of the way to stand up close to another human.

... the human had very few teeth and seemed to be caught in mid-cower.

"You givin' work or you jus' here to star' an' shake?" he demanded of the toothless man, "Las' ship wen' an' offed itself."

He sniffed.

"I'm a navi, you go' anythin'?"

 

[Karric Grey]

Karric was a drifter now, at least in his own mind as he continued to go from place to place, searching for anything that paid and could keep him afloat. At the moment, he had found his way to Cerak-AtThul, a famous place for its depravity and the activity that transpired there. It was a perfect place for someone like Karric to find work. Since his time traveling, he had figured out people were reluctant to let the opportunity of magic on their side slip away.

Entering the tavern, he was immediately hit with the smell of alcohol before seeing a variety of people either drinking themselves to death or arguing with their mates about some topic he didn't know. Karric stood apart from the rest of the patrons, particularly from his clothing and armaments, and from the simple fact, he was able to stand straight without swaying. His eyes scanned the room until he found the table where a man was shouting about joining a crew and the riches that would always entail from joining such a ship. Karric had heard the same speech before but he was tired of dealing with the normal travelers that have tended to hire him. Plus, he was too low on coin now to particularly refused. He had hoped from his jobs he could learn more about the nature of what was inked on his body but it was to no avail and hopefully, this could provide clarity somehow among the adventures.

Karric pushed through the crowd, navigating peacefully through the drunkards until he arrived at the table. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing the runic tattoos that stretched up his body and disappearing underneath his clothing. Two swords were strapped to his back, that being the only visible weapons on him and truthfully the only ones. Karric's gaze resided on Billy for a few moments before it eventually drifted to the woman who sat off some feet from the man. From her demeanor, it was a reasonable guess that she was the captain of the ship being advertised and Karric spoke calmly, "If you're still looking for a crew, I'm here to offer my services."

 

[Talia Frost]

Toothless Bill was still dabbing away at his sweat when a massive orc came up to address him. Poor Billy looked as if he would faint, and he sputtered over his words. By then, Talia was tired of his nonsense and shoved him aside and took his seat. She eyed the orc up and down and scowled at him.

“You can navigate yourself to a damn shower,” She said, scrunching up her face, “You smell like shit,” It was clear she didn’t have a high opinion of orcs. However, as she scowled at him, Toothless Billy tugged at her sleeve. She whirled around to glare at him.

“Beg pardon….but he flashed some shinies to buy a very pricy drink!” He whispered eagerly, “If not for crew, we can robs him and toss him overboard!” Talia rubbed her chin in thought before turning back to face the orc. She cleared her throat.

“Ahem, navigation you say,” She took on an entirely different tone, “What experience do you have with the Akiva sea?”

Talia would wait for his answer. However, that was when another man made his way towards her table. He looked to be human, and her gaze lingered on the tattoos for a moment before she looked at his face - or tried to under the hood.

“What services? You look shady as all hell in that get up. You’d get us arrested anywhere we go,” She crossed her arms over her chest, “Can’t have people looking like common thieves while we’re trying to loot and steal, you know.”

 

[Gkok Angfee]

He snorted through his nose at the human woman who decided that she wanted to speak rather than the one without teeth. At least this human seemed to have something resembling a spine, even if it was as tiny as everything else on her. He looked down at her.

"Nev'r had the stomac' for grog, girlie?" he drank deeply from the tankard but didn't break eye contact, "Reck'n you migh' be soft an' green."

Green was never a nice thing to call another person of the sea.

Of course she then decided to ask him some serious fucking questions after the worm whispered to her. His eyes narrowed but he didn't say anything for a moment.

"Plenty." he decided at length, "Spen' tim' raidin' an' runnin' round the Eye o' Kiva. If you're as green as ya look girlie I say you'd steer clea'ra the Spear. Winds ain' goo' for new hands."

Ignoring her conversation with a new human woman with swords (they all looked the same to Gkok), he downed his tankard and left the empty one on the table before wandering off to get another. This time he didn't pay - he'd slapped down enough to open up a modest tab after all. He completely turned his back on the human women and their toothless wonder.

Green.

 

[Méchanteau]

Old, drunk, stupid and wretched, how fine were these specimens of Cerak-AtThul! This suffocated shanty town, this blister of rotten wood right near the world's arse, this cursed and black pit of despair was quite apt with bringing out the worst in people. It was only natural, then, that it would attract of all people the very worst. He as if glided in this dark place, so light and sure of his step that many could not get out of his way in time. They were pushed, and if insistent or insolent, cleaved without much pomp. Although he didn't show it Méchanteau absolutely adored the commotion after each kill, seeing the starved and the greedy going at the corpses, hoping to pilfer something good. Amused by the gusto of a kid that had shattered a rum bottle over the head of a branded rival, the lich slipped him a coin. The front and back were minted for the glory of Tabin-Ur, jackal and snake.

"Wha-" grunted the shaved gnome, slick with blubber.

"Pyrite. Fool's gold. Sounds like pirate, too. Smart, no?" he pinched the 'child''s cheek, then continuing on a meandering stroll.

He stopped in front of some tavern, as squalid and cramped as any. This one had something different, however, something wrong.

"WHERE'S THE MUSIC!?" he screamed bloody murder, kicking the door open with a far too fine boot for the establishment. His clothes, swagger and sheer undeathness were a sight to behold. Those who knew the legend fell silent, some fainted, and over the body of one such man Captain Méchanteau leapt on top of a table. Over the silence was heard the cracking of knuckles and the warming of a throat that just wasn't there. The lich was about to sing.

"AaaahAahh, the blood runs cold!"
​

As he sang he held one swaying finger.

"We take our loot but don't get old!"
​

He gestured for all to follow, marking the rhythm with boot stomps.

"YOOoo! YO HO!"
​

The bravest joined, spurred by the challenge and grit of the voice and song.

"Yoo! Yo HO!"
​

More joined, the tavern rattled to its foundation! If alone each voice was rough and coarse, together the chorus was haunting, powerful!

"All hail, the mighty!
He's a-Risin' from the deep!
With tattered sails
and incredible tales
we're caught in endless seas!"
​

Silence returned. It was a nervous silence, expectant. Would the singers be spared? At least the last to die to Méchanteau's sword. The skeleton's hand hovered the cursed hilt, he was scratching his chin.

"Mighty fine singing, boys and gents! You almost sound like pirates! Bartender, ten rounds of your best swill to all!" the tavern exploded to life as the lich chucked a bag of coin at the man "And hold back on the piss!" he chortled over enthusiastic applause and hollering. Ruffian hands tugged artlessly at strings, men here and there sang very crudge, very bloody songs, arguments and tossings burst everywhere. This really was a tavern for pirates! Méchanteau hopped off the table, dusting himself.

 

[Karric Grey]

An Orc approached the table before him and as the woman pointed out, he did smell like shit but that was practically everyone in the tavern as well. She asked him a few questions and answers were given before the Orc finally left to go get another drink. The woman turned her attention towards Karric and he noticed her eyes linger on the tattoos before proceeding to comment on his appearance. He arched an eyebrow that was hidden under his hood, either she didn't know about runes or just chose to ignore and another reason was the comment for his appearance. Karric turned slightly to make a pointed glance around the room before responding, "Funny, I thought pirates thought the least of their appearance." Case and point to some of the patrons in the room who had piss and shit over their clothes and reeked of beer.

Either way, Karric did pull down his hood, revealing medium length black hair and a full beard. Some of the runes could be spotted up his neck but only the edges of them. He was young but his eyes didn't carry the same youth. "Magical. I'm a mage, common-looking thief second. I'm new to sea life but I can learn quickly and stay out of your way until I do." Karric knew if he tried to pass as a seaman, he would fail miserably and just make a fool of himself, so he went straight to the point. "Plenty of ways my abilities can be utilized." He was going to wait for her response but then he felt a burning sensation in the side of his neck as he turned to peer at the door. The woman would be able to see one of the runes on his neck faintly grow green before... something kicked open the door to the tavern, announcing his presence to everyone inside before starting up a shanty.

Karric watched silently as it transpired while the servers walked around at the pirate's request to serve drinks to everyone. The mage refused when offered, not quite trusting a place where one misstep could cause him to lose everything in his pocket. The morale of the tavern was lifted as the pirate hopped down from the table but Karric returned his attention back to the woman, waiting for her response. As everything normalized, the slightly glowing rune eventually dimmed until it was returned to her normal color.

 

[Talia Frost]

Talia’s face visibly changed when the orc mentioned the Eye of Kiva - not many people actually knew about it. It was the first time her usual grumpy expression left her face, and she was genuinely curious. Nevertheless, the rage returned as the orc proceeded to insult her and accuse her of being ‘green’.

“I was born in the Spear, you codpiece,” She spat at him, springing up from her seat and slamming her open palms on the table, “I can hunt a Kivren quicker than you can tell your head from your ass,” However, she knew she couldn’t let her anger get the best of her when she was desperate for a better crew. Toothless Bill nudged her again, and she cleared her throat once more.

“We would be glad to have you aboard,” She said suddenly. She watched him leave to get more to drink, turning to the shady hooded man. Before she could complain about her displeasure about mages, she was distracted by another pirate that jumped on a table to draw attention to himself. Before she could do anything, Toothless Bill jumped up and down and joined in on the singing.

“HE’S ARISIN FROM THE DEEP! WITH TATTERED SAILS AND-”

Talia slapped him upside the head. Billy looked at her with confusion.

“Billy!”

“Aye!”

“I think that might actually be that damn undead captain himself.”

“Ahaha not a chance, that’s just a legend.”

“SINCE WHEN DO SKELETONS DANCE AND SING THEN, BILLY?!” She slapped him again and spun him around to look at the theatrical pirate Captain. Billy took one look and screamed at the top of his lungs. As more and more pirates began to realize that the lich pirate was there in the flesh….or bones…. They began to panic.

“He’s gonna kill us all!”

“HE’S GONNA TURN US INTO FISH!”

"HE'S GONNA MAKE AN ARMY OUT OF OUR CORPSES!"

Talia rubbed her temples, looking at the hooded and tattooed mage, “What kind of magical powers do you have, exactly?!”

The moment of silence after the singing was completely shattered as chaos ensued. Mugs flew everywhere, tables were flipped and patrons began to climb over themselves to either get a look at the fabled undead pirate, or to run away from him.

 

[Gkok Angfee]

She was born on the Spear and she talked about hunting Kivren... not many people were that open about their dislike of the fishmen but it seemed to be something of a focal point for the young woman. He eyed here for a moment before scoffing.

"Tha'll be a fun challeng'." he grunted, "Ain' bash'd a fishfuck'rs head in in months. I'll sig' on to get you to goo' fishin' waters for the slim'y fucks if tha's what you wan' girlie."

Honestly he hadn't had need of killing them buggers in recent months because he'd actually done sailor and pirate's work. Rather than being some kind of glorified fisherman's bitch.

SINGING.

FINALLY!

Laughing heartily, he sang along with the other song that had been led by the rotting corpse of a pirate apparently. Because why the fuck not, right? He downed his own drink to grab the one that had been ordered for him by the dead-man. He smashed his old tankard down loudly on the ground.

"ANOTHER!" he roared, "Dead air ain' got no gol' on it ya piss-bags!"

He took a deep breath before starting up an old favourite of his in a deep, commanding, voice that was equal parts loud as it was 'alright I guess'.

Sally Brown, she's the gal for me boys!
Roll Boys! Roll boys roll!
Sally Brown she's the gal for me, boys!
Way high, Miss Sally Brown
It's down to Elbion to see Sally Brown boys!
Roll Boys! Roll boys roll!
Down to Elbion to see Sally Brown boys!
Way high, Miss Sally Brown!​

Some of the people in the tavern joined in because honestly, what pirate that was honest with themselves didn't enjoy singing a song about having a favorite whore? One that was fucking lying to themselves, that was who!

 

[Karric Grey]

The tavern came to the realization that the pirate was undead and that caused a cacophony of sound. Pirates ran away and pirates ran toward the skeleton but Karric remained where he stood. He didn't know the legend of this pirate and his presence didn't really have an effect on him except for the magical aroma that emanated from the man like a stench.

The woman turned back to ask what type of magical powers he had and he had to think for a moment. To be quite honest, he didn't know the true extent of his own power. He didn't even know what more than half of the runes on his body meant and it was what felt like the eternal puzzle he was attempting to solve by himself. Karric leaned against a nearby support column with his arms crossed, his gaze flicking between the assorted pirates and the woman. "An assortment is the best way to put it. Some spells are for protection, some are dangerous, it's whatever I want to be."

The orc that had approached the table before had joined in on the singing with his bellowing voice and starting another song among the pirates that weren't pissing their pants about the skeleton pirate. Karric shrugs his shoulders as he glanced over at the woman, "Maybe even for a little extra, I'll do parlor tricks that can go along with your melodious group." He couldn't join even if he wanted to, he didn't know any of the words for these songs but the rest of the pirates in the tavern picked up the slack and bellowed the words with the orc.

 

[Alak Rasivrein]

Alak had wandered for quite some time before finding his way to Cerak At'Thul. This was a place he could feel a bit more at home. While they weren't exactly greeting him with open arms (who did they really greet like that save easy victims?), most didn't give much more than a second glance and an insult at a dark elf. If his skills proved up to par, that was what they needed and cared about.

The series of events that led him to the tavern were as followed: he had a massive hangover and decided the only cure was to drink some more. This tavern didn't have any loud music that would exacerbate his headache, so it was selected.

Now, all chaos had broken loose with singing and shouting and a general row was underway. Alas, he needed to finish off this ale to make the throbbing stop. A moment later, his eyes caught on to the glowing tattoos of the mage and it piqued his interest through the fog of the alcohol.

He was always looking for work these days, and if there was work for a mage then there might be work for two. He didn't know much about sailing - and by "not much" he really knew nothing at all - but he was a quick study... or at least quickish.

He downed the remainder of his drink, put a hand over the ear closest to the singing to muffle it, and pushed his way through the bustle of the crowd to the mage and the raven-haired woman.

You have work for mages who know how to hunt and fight? he asked. While he had been across the room during the discussion about the nature of the voyage, he had picked up enough to guess the unsavory nature of the work. Unsavory work was his specialty.

 

[Méchanteau]

Méchanteau slammed rum bottle after rum bottle, aided by a small brass funnel that helped the liquid drip down to the flames that acted as his eyes. Near the end of the act, a voice rose so noisily that he spilled a good glug laughing. "TO MISS SALLY!" he cheered with his closest toadies, who were definitely too stupid to realize that there was no way for an undead - or Méchanteau, at least - to get drunk. He was just in a good mood. "TO THE MISS SALLIES OF THIS WORLD AND THE NEXT ONE!" he rose both bottle and funnel once the green man and some others were over. Good thing that so many cowards had left now, a true pirate sails with any sort by his side! Usually not by choice, which happened to be something the lich was not very keen on giving.

A small gathering caught his interest. Colorful, as Cerak's usually were, but woefully not drinking. Were they spurning the skeleton's boon?

He rose slowly, noisily, making a show of every movement. His rings, his tricon, his studded coat, his useless-to-him pince-nez, his nightmare sword were all flaunted. He loomed behind the one with the prominent gums, siccing both gellid hands on his shoulders. "You have work for mages who know how to hunt and fight?" he parroted the one man he had heard "How about some strong oarsmen? I'm looking for some, actually. Folk that don't drink, folk that have a strong liver. But that's business" he patted the old man "How about we drink to this old sea dog's honor, aye? Since you didn't drink to mine and all. Except-" he pointed at the bearded orc "for you, lad. Good taste, by the way. Been a while since I heard Miss Sally!" he poured some rum of his own into the man's cup, right up to the brim.

 

[Talia Frost]

Talia grinned at the orc’s response - she was happy to hear he was all about bashing in Kivren faces, “I might even let you keep a heart or two,” She called out after him before he broke out into song to her surprise. It was one she recognized, but she didn’t partake just yet. However, she did join in by taking a swig from her mug of ale she had forgotten about.

She scowled at the tattooed man’s words, “They’re not...normally this 'melodious',” Her scowl extended to the bag of bones that was flaunting around like a peacock. Talia was next approached by a dark...elf? What the hell was he?

“This place is a god damned circus,” She grumbled under her breath. And why was everyone a mage?! Why did it have to be mages? Then again, she didn’t exactly have a choice, “Yeah I got work for you,” She finally said, deciding the pool of candidates will have to do.

That was when the corpse walked over and got a bit close to Toothless Bill. The man jumped as he heard the lich’s voice and could only muster a high pitched noise that sounded suspiciously like a wet fart in response to the skeleton’s words.

“Billy!”

“Aye!”

“Stop embarrassing me!”

“I-I may have had an accident,” Toothless Billy whimpered pathetically, looking dejected. Talia sighed and rubbed her temples, shoving him aside and making her way towards the skeleton. Her confidence went up in flames as she got closer, however, only having heard legends and tales of the undead. Everything about him was so unnatural.

“Look, you glorified bit of walking dog treats,” She began, her voice cracking slightly to show she was full of shit, “Go uh...go recruit somewhere else ‘cause I’m trynna work here…” Her credibility was rapidly going to pieces and Toothless Bill was trembling behind her.

 

[Alak Rasivrein]

Circus from the abyss, perhaps, he thought to himself as the woman pointed out how odd they were. He cast a glance around but ultimately decided that he was in no position to judge anyone else. They may look odd, but if they knew their stuff... well, that was what mattered, wasn't it?

Alak was familiar with dark magics, but even then the touch of the undead man felt unnatural. He maneuvered to adeptly avoid the man's touch.

It is business, he said, and I've ever intention of drinking, he commented smoothly.

But I need to secure employment first, he said, looking the man up and down with an appraising gaze. The man - or skeleton - wasn't quite like anything he'd seen before even in the underrealm, and it made him... unsettled.

He was about to ask the skeleton pirate if recruiting was what had brought him here when a foul smell began to emanate from the one called "Billy." Is that one of your special powers? he asked instead of the skeleton-man. Ability to cause someone to defecate on command. A great and terrible power.

 

[Gkok Angfee]

The undead pirate had more fecking balls than half the people here and that was both awesome and sad. Awesome because who didn't want to party with an undead pirate? And disappointing because he had just signed up for crew work with some of those sad sacks.

Oh well.

He was gonna get paid in fish people hearts and gold - that was good enough to get him interested. He snorted with a grin at the main woman - if she knew anything about orcs then she would know he was pleased with her offer.

"No teeth an' no balls?" He sniffed at Bill, "Well suppos' tha's why ye be needin' these mage women."

As an Orc with limited exposure to humans who weren't sailors and pirates by trade he didn't know that long, flowing, hair didn't make a human a female. To his experience only the female humans (or others not orcs) had long hair or the time or effort to spend so long caring for it.

The newest one concerned him slightly though.

"You takin' whit' hairs? She ol' or somethin'?"

 

[Méchanteau]

Upon the realization that he had expedited the gumful man's bodily processes, Méchanteau exploded into laughter. He trembled, convulsed, ribs wracking violently under his garb, jaw dangling madly enough to at any time be launched across the tavern. He found support on the legs of an upturned table that had slid right to his side in the aftermath of some brawl or other. "Abtatu's balls, don't you humans ever cease to impress..." he whispered through pained giggly gasps "The man actually did it-" he looked up at the woman that had come to confront him "he up and shat himself!" and there was more laughing, more wracking.

Taken by a sudden and violent impulse Méchanteau up and hurled the table at a passing bloke, knocking him out. Satisfied, he began to calm down, and so did the fires in his eyes as he wiped small green embers scintillating down his chin.

"The dead, I tell you, can do many things. But the living?" he said, stretching his arm over Talia's head to boop Billy right on the nose "The living are so much more entertaining! Decades of high sea adventures, worthless to this man when faced with me... Well, good! Fearing the name Méchanteau is not cowardice, it's wisdom." he nodded sagely, locking hands with Talia into a firm handshake "But I am not in the business of recruiting just any fleshy, lass! For you see..." he let go of her hand, placing his over his own forehead in a florid turn "What a wonderful problem is this one that I have, with too much to my name and nobody to delegate part of it to! And what riches, what glory would my officers have! Once proven loyal and capable their fortunes would know no end... And perhaps! Only perhaps, as not all are so brave, I would grant them the gift of-"

Cold fog seeped from the undead captain, unnatural to no end.

"Getting out of this tavern alive."

He crossed his arms in a way that just oozed caprice and cruelty.

"So, little woman, how about I sponsor this expedition of yours? You don't intend on sailing out with just pants-shitter and girly locks over there, are you?" a bag of coin - pyrite discs, really - rolled down from the inside of the skeleton's cuff, filling his hand with appreciable weightiness "The singing orc must come too. He has the voice of a drunk half-siren. Beautiful, but not too beautiful."

 

[Karric Grey]

It had just been Karric and Talia mostly but it suddenly became crowded and the rune on his neck glowed once again. It burned like a hot iron as he turned his gaze to find a drow making his way toward the two. Not only that but the undead captain approached the group as well and made the rune burn even hotter. Karric adjusted his hood while it was down to act as a scarf and cover his neck, not really appreciating the fact he still hadn't control of his powers completely and that it made him stand out.

"Apparently so." He commented to the drow about the possibility of work but that's when Bill reacted horribly to the presence of the skeleton and shat himself. Karric took a step away from both Bill and the undead captain but remained in the vicinity. The captain gave a speech before offering himself as a sponsor to Talia and that made Karric chuckle. "Appears like a completely genuine offer." Already the mage wasn't a fan of this. There was always a catch in something like this and he didn't trust that the undead captain was doing this from the good of his... bones to help out another captain.

Karric hoped he wasn't the only one suspicious of this but then again he wasn't the captain. So, he went silent and waited to see how Talia would take the offer.

 

[Talia Frost]

Talia was incredibly displeased with Billy, but the man had sailed with her for too long for her to ever get rid of him. She could only stare uneasily as the Lich drew ever closer, his theatrics and antics completely absurd. She didn’t flinch as he randomly hurled a table over, the poor patron passed out cold in the middle of the floor as a result.

As he shook her hand, she tried to tug her fingers back to no avail. Once he released her hand and kept talking, she grimaced and wiped her hand on Billy’s shirt to get off any bacteria the lich had on him (you couldn't trust germs these days). Talia was more than a little surprised by the offer, and she couldn’t deny how enticing having some support was.

After chewing on the inside of her lip for a moment, she finally spoke, “What do you get out of this?” She shot at him suspiciously, not too thrilled by the smell of him. Between him, the orc and Billy’s soiled undergarments, it was a wonder she wasn’t vomiting profusely.

Talia stepped back towards the recruitment table and unrolled a bit of parchment, “Rumor has it that a kraken has been taking down ships somewhere in the Akiva Sea. There’s a mighty fine price on its head. If we kill it, it’ll be enough loot to keep us all happy for a very long time.”

She glanced around at the men that had offered to take a job, wondering how they felt about such a dangerous endeavor. Talia glanced over at the Lich and grinned, “Still aboard?”

 

[Alak Rasivrein]

Alak flicked his gaze over to the Orc, assuming that his comments about being a woman and white hair were both intended to be insults. In truth, it amused him more than anything. Alak had spent most of his life being reminded that he was a second class citizen in the underrealm because he wasn't a woman. Now that he was above ground he "was" a woman. Oh, the irony. A faint smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

Ancient, he said in response. And with 6x as many years under his belt as the Orc already, it was true.

Which is good, because that means I have enough wisdom and intelligence to compensate for you, he quipped back smoothly. Whether that would earn a slap on the back or a punch in the face remained to be seen. He'd be ready for either.

Alak watched the pair of captains face off and listened. His fingers tickled the hilt of his knife at the mention of the lich-king killing them, but nothing else seemed to tense. He didn't think that was an actual threat so much as the way of people here. He knew how it was in this business.

What interested him far more was the talk that came next. A kraken?! He had heard some stories about those in the underrealm, but he'd always assumed they were just myths. Massive monsters living in the water and preying on people and ships. Surely that wasn't real? And yet, here they were, talking about hunting one and with no signs of joke in anyone's tone.

Are you sure he's ready for a kraken? he asked, pointing toward Billy with his thumb.

It doesn't seem like he... handles stress well, he said with a puzzled frown.

 

[Josiah Fawcett]

The piercing tones of a flute beginning to play a spirited jig filled the ramshackle tavern, floating down from the loft where a figure sat on the rafters with his features hidden in shadow save for the tattered draping of a weathered frock coat and the tricorne hat perched on his head. His booted feet kicked out a rhythm against a support beam, shaking dust down onto the table and the flute abruptly cut out as a voice rose in a warm baritone and began to sing.

"Was you ever in Vel Anir?
Alliran laddie, bonnie laddie,
Dodging guardsmen on the pier?
My bonny Alliran laddie, oh...

Was you ever in Elbion?
Alliran laddie, bonnie laddie,
Where gold's the king and pantheon?
My bonny Alliran laddie, oh...

Weigh hey, and away we'll go!
Alliran laddie, bonnie laddie!
Weigh hey, and away we'll goooo;
My bonny Alliran laddie, oh!!"

He fell from the loft as other voices mingled with his on the chorus, landing in a seated position on the table nearest the lass organizing a Kraken hunt, his head lifting to reveal a skeletal face with lichfire eyes beneath a battered leather tricorne, the bones polished to a fine sheen and covered with runic arrays. The rictus left the impression of a permanent, maddened grin and as the undead shook out his sleeve it was revealed that the "flute" was actually his own ulna, hollowed and carved out into a fine instrument. He slotted the flute-bone back into place as if it were the most natural thing in the world and leaned back on his hands, looking over both Talia and Mechanteau.

"If it's to be a kraken hunt, ye'll be needing more than just dumb muscle or any old bag of bones; Josiah Fawcett's my name, Captain Lass, and you'll be wantin me and mine along on this little misadventure."

 

[Arden Smollet]

As Josiah Fawcett sang his shanty and most of everyone joined in with him, a half blind forty-something hurried through the doors holding a handkerchief and an empty flask. His one good eye looked at the scene and judged it to be nothing unusual for Cerak At'Thul. "Just follow the shanties, they said-" the tired sailor shook his head and made his way over to the bar, "-you'll find the captain at the center of attention."

Of all the places in the known world, Cerak At'Thul was at least one where an undead pirate didn't need to hide himself in shadows or on his ship. Here the captain was free and Mister Smollet, as he liked to be called, was left to buying his own groceries. That was the thing about being the only living thing on a ship... all the food was his.. and yet the rum kept disappearing anyway.

The one-eyed pirate had just handed over his flask to the wench when the crowd had quieted down enough for him to overhear Captain Fawcett offering his services to the young woman.

"A Kraken!?" he blurted out, disregarding the people around him he grabbed his flask back from the wench's hands and stumbled his way over to the gathering of undead, ancient and beautiful pirates. "I once saw a Kraken grab a whole ship and drag it to the bottom of the sea in a matter of seconds," his voice was unsteady as the memory of the event clearly affected the weathered sailor. He looked at the others, the orc, the dark elf, the humans and then back to Josiah, "Them, and me, would drown!"

Somewhere along that sentence he noticed that the wench had already poured some liquid in his flask before he snatched it back and as there wasn't a better medicine in the world than good dark rum he brought it to his lips and emptied it.

"Ahh! The hell with it! I've always wanted to make a Kraken pay for eating little Timmy."

 

[Méchanteau]

What was a death threat between pirates, really? Something akin to a currency, to be exchanged and haggled with lest one lose face. And here in dreary Cerak, face was everything! A man was only as big as the legend he cast. That was why the lich floundered a bit when Talia risked a question, rather than bend the knee and sing praises to her new patron, king and god. "What don't I get out of this, my dashing coquette?" he peeked at the map from behind her shoulder, tracing a nonsense route with his digit "Show loyalty and promise and I'll have a lieutenant to act in my stead - as well as a kraken to command -, betray or fail me and I'll have your ships and bodies to make up for the loss! Then it's business as usual for me." he tapped, turning around and scratching his chin "Luscious locks is right, however! Empty-guts looks barely enough to weather a gust, much less a farrging kraken. Just what is he good for, anyway?" he pulled the man closer, partly to appraise him as one would a horse, and partly to force him into a second accident. Jokes were always better with repetition. Like a child his interest was short-lived, Bill was soon patted away with what little remained of the captain's rum. To make up for all the browning.

Infinitely more pinchable cheeks came into the skeleton's attention when he caught a glimpse of a deadringer. The marrowy visage, the lichfire gaze, the maddened rictus, the debonair in his walk! And how warm and lively was his voice, not at all like the spectral echo of Méchanteau. As if struck by an arrow the captain gasped, placing a hand over his mouth that did nothing to smother a rising 'squee'.

"He works for you!" he jabbed Talia right in the chest all excited "And you work for me! What jolly enterprise is this one we find ourselves in, we might even avenge your poor Jimmy!" he pointed at the rugged human with the bad eye "By the GODS, is it exciting to have living fleshies serving under me! Would you fine folk like to inhale some giggle-grass? No, no, no! You must keep of your wits, all! Ah, the wonders and fragility of meat and gristle!" he forced the other skeleton into a handshake, like he had done to Talia "And what breed of strange magics do you dabble at, young Fawcett!?"

 

[Gkok Angfee]

... was the undead pirate trying to threaten the woman captain? If he was then that might actually get kind of awkward since Gkok had accepted to work with her. And if she was his captain she might, technically, be able to order him to fight the undead pirate. Or, more worryingly, they might have to work with him.

It was odd that that was the more terrifying of the two options wasn't it?

"I already sign'd on wit' the woman." he agreed with a wave of his hand, "An' flattery gets yer nowher' yer sweet-talkin' bag'a bones."

Killing a kraken eh?

"If we kill it we ge' te eat it righ'? Squids good eatin'."

He stared at the white haired one for a few seconds before nodding,

"Ah yer a blok'. Sorry - all yer' non-greens look alik' sometim's." he smirked ever so slightly back, "An' yer got a sharp tongu' alon' wit' yer stabbies, I lik' it."

The rest of it? This shit was getting wild. He stared around the table before shrugging and nodding to Talia.

"Wit' this many'a us the krak'n can get shanked whil' it's chewin' and we'll still be mostly fin'. Lets go get him then fec' on bac' for mor' grog."

 

[Talia Frost]

“Hey!” Talia shouted, batting the Lich’s hand away as he went towards Billy, “He may be a useless lump, but he’s my useless lump, so keep your claws off,” She narrowed her eyes at the skeleton, crossing her arms as she got between him and Billy once more.

She then turned towards the second bag of bones named 'Josiah Fawcett' and yet another rough looking man that jumped at the mention of a kraken “Aye, a kraken. The price on it will be enough for us all to…” ‘rid ourselves of unwanted company,’ She wanted to say as she gazed at the undead captain, but didn’t utter out loud. She needed him now more than she cared to admit.

“Let’s make one thing clear,” She looked at the undead captain, “We work for you only for this expedition. After that, we go our separate ways, savvy?” Talia had a bruised enough ego with having to accept help from an unnatural captain to begin with. It was going to be a simple job and they could easily part ways, right? It wasn't like she signed some sort of blood contract...

She had a bad feeling about this, but there was little choice and even less time to waste. Talia looked over the small throng of men that signed on to come sail and she turned to the undead captain, “All right, gents! It's time to leave. I want to set out before any other green landlubber cashes out on that kraken!"

With that, she drained the rest of her mug and slammed it down on the table, a spark in her eye. Unless someone stopped her, she would lead her little merry crew back to the docks to prepare for the journey ahead.

 

[Alak Rasivrein]

Well, this should certainly be fun. He might die fighting this kraken, but he would do it in interesting company if nothing else. And if it worked out then he'd be a rich man and have stories to tell. It seemed like a winning proposal to him either way.

Looks like we'll get along well enough, then, he said to the orc. More undead walked up, and he immediately decided that he - as a dark elf - wasn't even close to the most outcast thing in this city nor would he be on the ship. Who was he to judge?

To a profitable voyage! he said, raising the new glass and finishing it off before putting it down alongside his new captain's cup.

He followed out to the street and on toward the dock, fingers dancing once again along the hilt of his sword and then moving up to the gem in the center of his armor. He had a feeling he'd be needing them both a great deal in the coming days.