Quest Weigh Anchor And Hoist The Mizzen!

[Talia Frost]

The sun was barely above the horizon when they had set off. They had patched up the Salty Bitch as best as possible before heading out. Talia hoped with all the magic freaks aboard the vessel, they might make up for their other shortcomings.

“The gods have blessed us with smooth seas,” Talia spoke as she rolled up the spyglass she had been gazing through. She pulled up her flask from her hip and took a swig of rum - it was never too early for rum! She was up on the quarterdeck, hearing the groaning and protesting of the wood beneath her feet as they were just making their way out of the bay and towards open ocean. This was where she belonged, and she couldn’t wait to escape land whenever they made port.

“Sea artist!” Talia called out to the orc that had advertised himself as a navigator, “How many leagues to where the other ships were taken by the kraken?” She knew it was a vague region they had to sail towards and he would have to piece things together from rumors and a map.

Talia glanced over at all the men that signed up to sail, some of them looking as if they’d never boarded a ship before. She couldn’t help but smirk, “Some of you will be findin’ your sealegs on this venture! But if you need to hurl, do it over the rail. I’ll flog anyone I see puking on my deck.”

Though the seas ahead were calm for now, only fate would tell if they were destined to stay that way. Talia hoped that morale would be boosted with some more singing - a kraken was a very lofty enterprise and could end with all their deaths.

Arden Smollet Alak Rasivrein Gkok Angfee Karric Grey Méchanteau Josiah Fawcett

 

[Josiah Fawcett]

Josiah Fawcett found it somewhat envigorating to not be at the helm of the ship for once; the voyage was giving him the opportunity to indulge in his favorite pasttimes like singing and watching the living eat meals he had no tongue to taste nor stomach to fill. Had he known that even a century after his death he'd still crave the taste of a juicy sausage warmed over the lantern fire with hard tack to soak up the grease, he may not have made that ill-fated journey into the Eye of Kiva searching for the path to immortality...

Shaking himself from his dark thoughts hard enough to nearly lose his hat - and head with it - Josiah leaned against the mast from his place in the rigging with a small drum between his knees, beating a lively rhythm out on the instrument as they set sail from the bay with the dawn and his voice chasing them.

"Now we are ready
To sail with the morn;
Weigh hey, roll and go!
Our boots and our clothes,
Boys, are all in the pawn;
To be rollicking Randy Dandy-O!

Heave a pawl, o heave away
Weigh hey, roll and go!
The anchor's on board
And the cable's all stored;
To be rollicking Randy Dandy-O!"

Gods, he wouldn't trade this unlife for any other.

 

[Gkok Angfee]

Ugh why was it that people liked smooth seas again? Far as Gkok could see they were boring seas and useful only for getting your barings. Without a strong wind speed wasn't really a factor either. Still, he was on a ship again and he was getting a chance to do something foolish and fun.

Again, something he had a lot of time for.

He was singing along as he did his calculations for the distance. Basing things off rumour was annoying but he didn't have any other choice really so he just got over it.

"6 leagu's an' half'a days hard graft from dawn today, ya salty wench!" he shouted back to the captain, using his own spyglass, "We'd be fast'r if half te' crew weren' green'r than me ballsac'!"

Which was also true but the pretty mages and the unpretty sailors were trying their best he supposed.

 

[Arden Smollet]

Mister Smollet was nodding his head at the harbormaster and pointed at the bowline, "That one!" Few seconds later and the forty-something sailor proved he was still quick as a mouse as he pulled the heavy line back onboard one hand after the other, before depositing it neatly in the boatswain's locker. Soon after they had properly left the port and before he had gotten a pause the new captain send him up into Jacob's ladder to unfold the main.

It was a proper forty minutes into their journey before Arden once again set his feet on the deck. "Oi Cap'n!" his voice a bit more crude than usual, "Is that rum you're sharing?"

A ship of this size and a crew greener than an orc. If he wasn't undead at the end of this voyage he'd be dead proper.

 

[Alak Rasivrein]

Alak quickly realized that this probably wasn't his smartest move he'd ever made. He knew nothing about ships. He took to following the same motions as the other members of the crew who seemed eager to point out whatever he might have done wrong or what he did without the utmost precision. He was used to having abuse heaped on him by his superiors - more often than not with physical violence - so this was mild, but still annoying. He didn't like being bad at things, and he was... well, he certainly wasn't good at sailing.

Then the seasickness began to set in. While he had the physical stability to avoid tumbling over on the tossing of the sea (or maybe it was just because the seas were calm) but his stomach seemed not so steely.

I am not going to vomit. I am not going to vomit. I am not going to vomit. And then he was at the side of the ship and a mix of what was probably once bread and ale came out. If there was a bright side, he didn't actually let loose on the deck of the ship. That, however, was of absolutely no consolation to the elven mage.

And then he was back to the ropes again, setting to work as he made a failed attempt to settle his stomach back to normal levels. He hoped this would pass by the time they found the behemoth.

 

[Méchanteau]

Méchanteau was part of the long and distinguished line of captains that named each and every ship of theirs after parts of themselves, but even he reckoned that 'Salty Bitch' was a bit on the nose! True to her name and captain the ship did groan and winge even in such slight waves, but besides that the lich really had no complaint. And of course he was already seizing up the vessel, it was practically his! This particular undead spent the lulls of the voyage thinking up what curses and cannons to outfit the Bitch with, as well as whether he really should bring back the motley crew with it. Sometimes he would join in a jig or shanty, other times he would help the landlubbers barf up their hardtack and rum, but never had he gone below deck, or partake in a meal, or say as much as a straight word to anyone. No, the lich would lie and cajole and be an all-around nuisance, amusing to none but himself whenever he made the chopped bits of fish and salt pork squirm in the mouths and bowls of the fleshies.

"So it is green!" he cackled all chipper, slapping Gkok on the back "You ought to wash 'em better 'fore they might fall off! That's scurvy for you, lad." he kept swaggering in circles around, gaining momentum more and more as he became a dash of white bone and flowing tatters. In five bounds he rose higher and higher, at last launching himself away and landing right on the tip of the bowsprit. The feat was like that of a cat, but the skill had come from hundreds of other leaps that ended with the bone pile bobbing up and down with the waves.

And so, full of feline grace and the smugness inherent to it, he sat down and lazed in the sun, sending doubloons skipping over the water to watch the pretty little ripples they'd make. But wasn't he supposed to do work? Of course not, the was the king, god and patron of this ship! Let the fleshies slave away, they were certainly more interesting to watch than his thralls.

 

[Karric Grey]

Karric like the other mage upon the boat didn't fare well at sea. Thankfully, the sea was calm today and easy enough for him to stomach the contents inside him. He had been on deck earlier but after a few minutes of the seasickness and the fact that he wasn't as experienced as the other crew members, he just resided below deck for the moment. Karric sat at an empty table by himself, placed in front of a support beam with a shattered mirror in the center of it. It wasn't pretty but it got the job done.

The mage had his sleeves rolled up once more, a journal in the center of the table as he stared at the runes on his body and continued to draw them down. He was practically scraping the bottom of the barrel to decipher what some meant but it still meant he had to try. The book he and Talia collected helped somewhat but it didn't provide all the answers he sought. Karric had just finished one drawing before flipping the page to continue onto the next until he heard shouting. "Ship! Ship!"

He was up in an instant, opening doors to the top deck as they swung open and thudded against the wooden body of the ship. One of the fellow pirates chirped up quickly, "Where?" The man at the top of the mast leaned off of it as he held onto a rope for support, his other hand shielding his eyes from the sun. "Portside! On the horizon, appears to be headin away from us!" Karric turned his gaze toward that direction, it taking him a few moments until he was able to make out a shape all the way out in the water.

Attempting to take another ship before they hunted a Kraken would be a risky venture but it could also have its own benefits. He turned his gaze toward the captain of the ship as did most of the crew as they wondered if they should keep their bearing or start to give chase.

 

[Talia Frost]

Talia chuckled at the orc’s words, agreeing with them wholeheartedly. It was true about the inexperience that came with some of these men. She peered over at the pretty boy elf, watching as he promptly hurled the contents of his stomach into the ocean. The pirate captain sighed and shook her head, addressing the orc, “Right you are,” She said in defeat, “Some of these men may serve better as bait for the kraken when we come upon it.”

That was when the boatswain spoke up, asking about the rum, “Bah, fine,” She hurled the flask his way, counting on him to actually catch it. It had the potential to knock someone out if they were caught unawares. The Josiah character was a welcome addition, and he kept the crew entertained with his music. It wasn’t long before others began to join in, adding to the chorus as he sang.

“Sail, ho!” Toothless Bill called out, excitedly jumping up and down at the prospect of loot. Talia looked through her spyglass again, spotting a naval galley out by its lonesome self. It looked slow and sluggish compared to the Bitch, and she had a bit more confidence in the battle skills of the men aboard her ship that she did in their sailing abilities.

“Hoist the colors! We’re gonna make a pitstop for some booty!” She turned to the orc, “Take the wheel!”

Talia stepped forth to address the new crew members, “Gird up your loins, gents, we’re going to broadside that ship and board it! I need men prepared to arm the ballistae!” She glanced at Karric and Alak, “I better see your magic come in handy.”

She turned around and spotted the undead captain casually lounging on the boatsprite. Her eyes narrowed at once, “Make yourself useful, damn it!”

 

[Gkok Angfee]

The crew were a right mixture of green as fuck and experienced. As in so experienced that it was a wonder that the blaggards weren't already dead from age alone. He laughed along from the undead terror, slapping the bag of bones on the back harder in return.

"Be bett'r for all invol'd if I had som' pretty hands helpin' me with tha' task!" he barked a brief laugh in response, "Lovely bedsid' manner som'a thes' greenland'rs got!"

He pointed to the captain, warningly.

"Hey don' get mad at me elfy boi!" he joked, patting Alak on the ass as he was straightening up, "Careful ye don' end up ben' ov'r on a ship'a sailors silver-locks - not all te' stories are lies."

Winking at the elf, he moved away to the side and pulled out his spyglass. Eyeing up the potential prize that had been spotted, he frowned a little bit. Shrugging, he moved up the length of the ship.

"Aye captain!"

Taking the wheel, he spun it around in an intercept course with the other ship. He kept checking on the path with his spyglass as he did so. Grinning a little bit, he slapped his spyglass closed.

"Prepar' starboar' sid' weapons!"

As the ship approached he would wait until the last, best, moment before flinging the wheel under his control. The ship rapidly spun to port, lining the starboard side up along the side of the other ship rather than ramming them.

 

[Alak Rasivrein]

Nor are all the stories of dark elves lies, he quipped in return. He kept going through the motions of work, managing to keep what little remained of the contents of his stomach inside now. It wasn't long before they came upon a new ship and he could sense the anticipation begin to grow in the crew. They were ready for blood, and so was Alak. The rush of adrenaline seemed to somehow make his stomach both better and worse at the same time. Fancy that, how was that even possible?

He heard the call of the captain as she said that his magic had better come in handy, and he knew that if it didn't he'd likely as not see himself sent overboard.

Aye, I'll go with the boarding party, he said, perfectly confident in his ability. That wasn't, however, to say that he couldn't contribute until then.

Joining me? Time to earn our keep, he said to the other mage who would also, likely, be going to board the ship when the time came. He didn't know the man's skill, but having an extra dose of magic never hurt the issue as far as Alak was concerned. If nothing else, he would be someone extra for the crew to try to stab.

His finger tapped the gem on his chestplate and it began to glow ever so slightly. He drew on its power and prepared himself for the coming fight.

The crew scrambled around him, loading the ballistae and the other ship - now noting the loaded weapons and colors of the ship - put as much sail as they could into outrunning the ship, even beginning to dump cargo overboard in their panic to outrun the predators. Of course, they were sluggish, but it seemed a merry, if brief, chase may be afoot. However, if they didn't close quickly enough, there may not be any loot left to get.

 

[Arden Smollet]

Just as Mister Smollet caught the captain's flask and brought it to his lips, bloody Bill spotted sail and ruined the boatswain's mood. To his own regret he could only afford barely a mouthful of the rum before he begrudgingly tossed it back to the lass and took to the starboard railing to help with the ballistae. While he worked, for loading one of these things was backbreaking work, he, too, spotted their target dropping cargo into the sea.

"Flotsam!-" he straightened up, ran to the railing and pointed at the nearest floating container before looking at Josiah Fawcett, the orc and then Captain Talia Frost, waiting for the command to try and catch the cargo in nets or anything that wouldn't have their spoils go to waste. Lastly, though somewhat uneasily, he looked at the self-proclaimed King of Pirates, but he finally shook his head... better not press the subject. The only thing left was hoping that the prize wouldn't toss the valuable stuff overboard to save their hides.

"Mister Smollet-" one of the ballistae crew nudged him towards the crate with bolts, "-we're ready for the bolt."

Right, the boatswain had a job to do.

 

[Méchanteau]

"Fool, I alone am the reason why this ship sails at all!" he roused to Talia's challenge "A woman, an orc, three landlubbers and two dead men? We tempt fate by simply flying the same flag, our fukú is quite terrible! If I don't sit here to ward off bad luck, then who?" he finished with a solemn nod, not at all believing what he had just said. He had other - even wilder - superstitions, but he quite liked making banter. He threw another doubloon to the waves - it was worth the investment.

A ship came from portsid- p-portside!? Damnable landlubbers! Without fail orders were barked, and the fleshies began buzzing and floundering like the busy bees they were. Very amusing. "Excuse me now, good captain!" he stood up, from his place in the sprit looking down at the crew on deck "It is time I make myself useful! At last!" without fail and with arms wide open he threw himself off-board, disappearing with a loud splash - all that was left of him was a dapper if quite worn tricorn floating like a paper boat. It sank not long after.

When Méchanteau surfaced, he did so of the side of a moonfish. The creature had the dreaded kopesh stuck through it, used as a very grizzly steer of sorts. On his way to the prey ship, the lich had every intention take it down by himself, so that he could brag all about it later. "LAST MAN TO BOARD SINKS WITH THE SHIP!" he shouted over his shoulder.