The Wormwood

You all remember the night before — the ringing laughter of a wild night, the heady joy of excess, the scents of rich stewed meat and perfume lingering in your nostrils. Now however, it's doubtful if you are quite so happy about the joys of the night. Your head pounding, the sickly taste of cheap wine in your mouths, hard floor, rhythmic creaking noise, and the feeling of the room swaying as though still drunk. You start to sit up though, when several pairs of booted footsteps enter the room, and a lantern's light painfully spears your eyes. As your eyes get accustomed to this, you see a harsh man wielding a whip, and 6 others wielding saps in the room.

“Still abed with the sun over the yardarm? On your feet, ye filthy swabs! Get up on deck and report for duty before Cap’n Harrigan flays your flesh into sausage skins and has Fishguts fry ye up for breakfast!”

OOC: At this point, you have none of your personal equipment with you, so bear that in mind.

Sakana didn't remember much from the night before. Not at first. It started coming back slowly, with each ebb and flow of the headache. Yesmoro was likely behind the storm druids fall into the loving embrace of the drink. Not the drink he had been born into, the loving powerful ocean. No, the drink he embraced was for lesser men... and it had been wonderful.

But now, now it all felt like a terrible mistake. He stood slowly, coughed something mildly unintelligible, and then squinted as he was spoken to.

"Another day in paradise," he muttered in an oddly deep, sing-song voice. He couldn't help it, it was simply how Locathah vocalized sounds.

Amanzi rolls slowly to his foot, using a timber to brace against the gentle roll of the ship as he stands. The movement is oddly graceful, for a cat missing a leg. His yellow eyes catch the light of the lantern and seem to glow as he looks over the room, taking note both of those on the floor, and those apparently in charge.

Speaking in a relaxed, bass rumble, he sets his gaze on the man with the whip, "You mentioned breakfast? I'm a cook. Though if you need a cook, you could have asked..."

OOC: @Willvr, Given my sailing history, have I heard of Captain Harrigan? Profession (sailor) 25 (Nat 20)

Alyra was sleeping peacefully until the light shone into her eyes. The Damn morning always comes too soon. She thought, before pulling her headband down over her eyes. as her damp hand came to rest over her face, she came to in full force. With a sharp inhale, she fixed her headband and rose from the ground. A quick pat down of her pouches and a survey of the room confirmed what she feared, press-gang.

She collected herself quickly, pushing the headache to the side and taking note of the two that seemed to adapt so quickly. "Seems it just might be." She replied to the Locathah while takign a step forward.

She stands straight, a tall 170cm, and gives a genuine smile to the men. "Birstrum, It's a pleasure. Let's get to work."

Katarina's mind first awoke to the strange scents around her. The overpowering salt scent of the sea indicated she was likely on a boat. The scent of sweat and dry-rot indicated it was likely not a very good boat. Before even opening her eyes, she pawed around. Her notes where missing! Her journals! Her backpack! She bolted upright, walked out of the dingy hold without paying heed to those around her, and stated to the dirty first mate:

"Where is my backpack!"

How she pronounced it:

Quequek slinks along towards the a fore mentioned deck. This would be the first time the little rat had been brought on board a ship without having worked hard to get past someone. Strange though, he wondered how they had gotten him on board, maybe they had whacked him over the head with one of those saps... no matter, a crew that press gangs sailors should be easy enough to work with. Maybe the Dark Lord had seen fit to provide him with a new masterpiece to work on upon this vessel, one could only hope for such good fortune.

As you all stumble up on to the main deck, or walk forward straight, you start to remember what happened the night before. You all remember indulging in either spicy food or spicy rum the night before.

There are a group of people standing around the mainmast,staring up at two figures standing on the higher deck. One of them is a broad, muscular Garundi man with a shaven head, a long beard bound with gold rings, and an eyepatch - clearly the Captain. The other is a younger, balding man with a long, black ponytail, wearing a long coat, and carrying a well-used cat-o-nine tails. You also realise that 4 others with you are also new 'recruits', and a dozen other pirates standing on deck or in the rigging.

The captain then addresses you, and the rest of the crew, both new recruits and established.

“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.”

The captain then turns on his heel and walks off, leaving just the man with the cat-o-nine tails. He looks down on you all unimpressed.

"All you new recruits! Climb the rigging!"

OOC: Everyone can make a perception check. Also, due to the natural 20, Amanzi has heard of Captain Harrigan - a fairly new pirate rising up the ranks of Pirate Captains of the Shackles. Also, climb checks if you climb the rigging.

Katarina was fuming. Not only did they take her things, but they also claimed that they "volunteered"? By Desna, she could not accept such a reckless removal of someone's freedom. She looked at the furless ape, likely human from the scent and appearance. She stated evenly, putting behind it the full force of her conviction, to the man with the whip:

"For every minute I am without my backpack and its contents, I will throw one thing overboard."

Rolls:

Quequek blinks in the bright sun, but at the sound of the captain's command he sprints to the rigging and started making the slow methodical climb.


OOC:
Perception Check
Perception of 22
Taking 20 on the climb check for a 17, so definitely not going to be quick but hopefully won't be accused of not jumping too.

Sakana listened, thinking back to that damned spicy rum they had drunk. While he listened, he briefly surveyed those around him.

Wonder if they were targeting non-humans, he thinks as he sees that a handful of the newcomers are in fact non-human humanoids like himself. It was an interesting round up.

He paid attention to his surroundings as best he could before grabbing the rigging with an unsure hand.

Amanzi walks into the sunlight, and stands relaxed as Harrigan speaks. Looking around at the open ocean, he assumes the ship must have set sail before the sun rose. Hearing Katarina threaten the man, he steps up behind her, and places a hand on her shoulder before quietly saying, "Young one, I admire your spirit, but now is not the time. Please, follow orders, keep your head down, and we will speak more later."

Without waiting for a response, Amanzi turns to the rigging, and with surprising alacrity climbs up.


OOC:

As Alyra stepped out into the light, the full extent of her hangover hit her. Her headache came back and she covered her eyes with her hands. She listened to what the captain said, staring at him through squinted eyes. She shouldn't have had that rum, she thought as she gave the captain a nod. She didn't like her position, but she could change it without getting close to the captain. For now, she would play along.

Alyra heard a familiar voice as she began to move to the rigging. Was that Katarina? She stopped and looked at the source of the angry voice and was both pleased and disappointed. She was good friends with her old mentor, but didn't see her doing well forcing her position the way she was. If she survived, Alyra would get in touch with her old friend. For now, Alyra grabbed on to the rigging and started to pull herself up. She heaved, maybe the rum hit her harder than she thought...

The man with the balding head, the likely first mate, was up on a higher deck, out of reach of Katarina. When she spoke her threats though, he once again spoke down at her.

"Last chance girl. You climb, now, or we'll have our first volunteer for one of Mr Scourges whippings."

It was clear to Katarina that at this point in time she was vastly unnumbered. There was at least a dozen pirates, not including this Scourge or the first mate, and she was unarmed and unarmored.

OOC: I'll give you this one because of a natural 20, but that would usually fall more under knowledge local, or the gather information aspect of diplomacy. Harrigan is known to be a cruel captain, and quite bloodthirsty.

OOC:

Yesmoro had stumbled out last, stirring slowly from his comfortable sleep. He'd had worse hangovers. His reptilian eyes blinked slowly in the morning sun. A pirate ship? Well that didn't sound so bad. He didn't care for being ordered around like that, but that's alright for now, he could always kill them later when there were less around. He started to climb.

OOC:

Whilst the rest of the party proceeded up the ropes, there came a clear clash between Katarina and your captors.

"You overestimate the Captain's compassion. He does not wish to lose personnel, true, but someone who does not take orders? Well, that is not something that can be borne. You do not understand the nature of our relationship."

Without warning Scourge lashes out with his whip, striking the bard, and his teeth glinted.

"I ask again. Climb."

OOC: Take 4 non-lethal.

Hearing the crack of a whip, Amanzi calls down from the crow's nest, "What are we supposed to do once we get here?" in an effort to distract Scourge and Plugg from Katarina.

Katarina did not care for such violence. And she would not a slave regardless of the pain inflicted upon her. So she followed the command in the most obtuse way possible. She ran to the closest secondary mast, and started climbing up. She would find a calm spot at the top of the ship. With her claws, no rigging, no problem.

OOC note:

Alyra shook off the pain of the hangover and looked up, squinting in the sunlight. Someone was already at the top. She grabbed the ropes and gave it another try. She wasn't excited at the prospect of continuing to climb, but looking over at Katarina, she knew what would happen if she didn't.

The rest of the group managed to climb to the top, and a quick snapped order made it clear they were now to return. When Katarina attempted to move, he once more lashed out with his whip, striking her again for non-lethal damage. As she perches at a place not easily accessible by his pirates, he shook his head and took out his shortbow.

"Last chance to surrender. The captain will not punish me for getting a new recruit to see reason."

OOC: Katarina, you have now taken 8 non-lethal. Please see the OOC.

Quequek watches as the little drama unfolds, his tiny rat mind calculating and scheming as he made his plans within plans. That one was going to be introduced to a world of pain, lucky her, this will be a good ship it seems. A little rat tail twitches as the vermin scuttled forth to the side of the whip holder, admiration for a proper technique evident even as he judged the man wielding it.

Maybe not strike her, might not survive fall. Quequek not able to put dead back together yet, working on it, not yet... no no no, but soon. Lips are wetted by a quick flick of the tongue, beady eyes darting as Quequek wondered how best to turn the situation to his advantage and earn his place upon the ship. Maybe Quequek talk with stupid crew member... convince her come down? Maybe Plugg and Scourge give Quequek stupid crew to play with, every little cut a whispered prayer to great dark Master, yes no not clear? Then Quequek earn his place on crew. Good for Quequek, Good for ship yes?

Diplomacy Check:

Sakana didn't quite understand why the cat-woman was being so ...difficult. Perhaps she hadn't as much confidence in herself as he did in him that not only would he survive this situation, he would prosper. He didn't know why he said what came out of his mouth next, but he felt he had to do something to save the fool. He took a step forward.

"I'm an expert sailor and quite the navigator. These are trained skills that can benefit this ship as a whole - moreso than simply rowing. Spare the girl, allow us to talk her down, and I will assist this ship to the best of my abilities."

Of course, he didn't add that he would do so while waiting for the prime opportunity to drown as many of them as he could.

On climbing back down from the rigging, Amanzi moves to the base of the mast Katarina has chosen to make her stand. Hopefully, he will be able to save her life when she falls, since that looks pretty certain now. He calls up, "Young one, for what it's worth, it's not slavery if you get paid!"

Amanzi is pretty confident already that this is not a ship he would serve on willingly. However, no need to make waves until the outcome is a bit clearer. If Besmara wills it, perhaps some of these others are of like mind.

Alyra found a space at the top. between the rigging and the mast, to rest herself and turned to look down at Katarina on the other mast. She was a capable researcher and would be invaluable as an asset in gaining traction aboard. However, she had already started off on the wrong foot. Maybe Alyra could help to avoid further troubles.

She leans down and calls out, "Kat, long time no talk! Glad to see you still in good health!" She yelled out to her old friend. "As you climb the mast, try to realize, if you get shot and die, you'll be a press-ganger for the rest of your life. If you come down, you can be a crew member in short order and will no doubt rise the ranks with your own talents. Not to mention I've learned so much these last couple of years, I'd love to give you a show of my ability."

As the rest of the party has completed, Plugg looks anxious to hand out rewards - or punishments. The words of various of them made him pause, they did need recruits - but on their terms, not someone else's.

"Hold Scourge. Let these others talk her down, if she does she can serve at the Bloody Hour tonight. Otherwise, shoot her down."

It seems you have your chance to talk her down.

"Be quick about it. I would like to get to work on turning you scum into actual pirates."

As everyone else runs forward to shout encouragement to the recalcitrant new member of the crew, the little rat deflates slightly, his thunder stolen by so many others bellowing at once. Such disorderly conduct was unconscionable, they knew not their place in the hierarchy of the ship and would eventually cause problems for any plan he could conceive... unless, unless they were turned to his service as pawns.

New purpose filled the little beast thing as he started to hatch new plans with which to secure his safety and his eventual rise in power.

Murcurie wrote:

She leans down and calls out, "Kat, long time no talk! Glad to see you still in good health!" She yelled out to her old friend. "As you climb the mast, try to realize, if you get shot and die, you'll be a press-ganger for the rest of your life. If you come down, you can be a crew member in short order and will no doubt rise the ranks with your own talents. Not to mention I've learned so much these last couple of years, I'd love to give you a show of my ability."

Wait, they are paying us? With the kidnapping and the whips, I assumed slavery.

Katerina slid down the mast without any difficulty. She smiled coily at the men with the whips.

I will listen, and as you can see climbing is no difficulty. Use words, not fetish gear. I can understand if its your kink, but in a work environment it sends the wrong message.

OOC note:

Scourge just rolled his eyes at Katarina.

"My words are, you work and you don't dance at the Bloody Hour tonight."

Plugg dismissed her, and he went down the ranks and asked everyone a simple question.

"Can you cook?"

OOC: I need a response from everyone to this question.

Amanzi looks up at Plugg. "I can cook. Pretty good at it, too. If you return my supplies, I'll make the best meal this crew has ever had."

"Quequek good surgeon, passable cook." The scrawny rat squeaked as he scratched at the crisscross of chain brands on his chest.

Alyra came down off the rigging, glad they had diffused the situation. She gave Kat a smile and a nod before replying to the pirate, "I dabbled in all the tasks aboard a ship, but cooking was never a strong suit. Still, if you need it, I'll give it my best."

Sakana, seemingly shocked, yet happy, that the situation resolved itself without violence, simply shook his head in the negative at Plugg's question.

Mr Plugg the grinned.

"Well done. You" - and here he pointed at Amanzi. "You are a rigger and report directly to me. He gestured towards Alyra. "You're the cook's mate, and report directly to our cook, Ambrose Kroop. As for the rest of you, you're riggers, and report directly to Mr Scourge, our Master-at-Arms." He paused. "As for duties for the rest of the day?" He gave a long pause. "Please find and report to the person in charge of your assignments."

OOC: Sorry, ran out of time. Tomorrow I'm going to be giving out rules in regards to ship tasks, which can also include doing other things beyond the necessary, that's why I'm giving out tasks yet. This also has the potential to be RP-intensive, so I'll want to discuss how we handle that aspect as well.

Amanzi steps towards the upper deck and calls, "Orders, Mr. Plugg?"

Mr Plugg merely glances at Amanzi.

"You, will be lookout. You will climb to the crow's nest and stay on lookout for the rest of the day."

Meanwhile, when Alyra finally found Ambrose, she found out why they needed a cook's mate. He was clearly often in his cups, though he is sober enough today. She simply needs to help him cook.

The rest, fall under the watchful eye of Mr Scourge.

He first cast his baleful eye upon Katarina.

"Our ship is in constant need of repairs. For the day, you will repair it." He shrugged, immediately dismissing her, before looking up and down at the Nagajii. "You will be needed as a runner, to pass messages back and forth between the officers and the crew." He snorted and moved on to Sakana. "Swab the decks. I hope you don't need a description of what that job entails." His eyes then turn on the ratfolk. "And finally, the ship's rat. For you, it's ropework. Knotting and uncoiling rope, and moving them where it's required."

Rolls:

Quequek gives Scourge a traditional Nidalese salute and hops to as quick as his little legs can carry him. Today he would work hard to prove his worth to the ship, today he would secure his place in the hierarchy of the crew. His light frame nearly flew over the deck as he deftly tied and untied the knots needed for daily activity. Years of torture hardened his body against the fatigue of his work.

As soon as he had the time, Quequek popped off to the quartermaster's lockup to hopefully find out what he could do about his gear...

Amanzi shrugs and makes his way back to the rigging. This should offer a good opportunity to see how the ship runs without attracting notice. He meant what he said to Katarina: now is the time to follow orders, making waves can come later. First task tonight will be finding out where his gear is. "Someone better not be drinking my whiskey," he mutters to himself, and begins to climb.

Katarina went around trying to repair as much as she could. Sowing together torn sails, repairing any fragile equipment. She had decent hands, but was more skilled with delicate mecanisms and locks than she was with a hammer and nail.

Sakana realized that Mr. Plugg either had not been listening, or had not cared about his skills as an actual trained sailor and navigator. He would find out for certain once he was done with his assigned duties. So, without delay, he began swabbing the decks... and he swabbed the absolute hell out of them.

Alrya gave a short salute and a sweet smile before turning tail and heading off to find the galley. She walked through the halls and took in as much of the atmosphere, the layout of the ship, and the demeanor of the crew as she could on her walk. When she found the Galley, and whom she could only assume was Mr. Kroop, she couldn't help but smile. Perfect. She thought, eyeing the drunk. It would be easy to make friends here, and she would have a decent exposure to the crew aboard the ship during meal times. She stepped into the galley and spoke to the man, "Mr. Kroop? I've been assigned to the galley today. I'll help with whatever you need." She took in the galley as she waited for a reply.

It was easy for Amanzi to realise that there was a clear gap between the officers and the crew of the ship. Some of the crew, at least currently, seemed to have lined up with Scourge, but most of the crew had not yet declared allegiences. Gronk and Ambrose, the quartermaster and the cook, were the two officers that did not seem quite as firmly in Plugg's camp.

Sakana, whilst trying his best whilst scrubbing the deck, also realised that Plugg was not one that would be easy, if not impossible, to win over. Plugg rejected his every advance to friendship.

Whilst exploring, Yesmoro realised that the quartermaster, Mr Grok, the half-orc, was the closest they had to an armory. At about that time, Queqek found the quartermaster and approached them.

"Oh-ho, you wish to discuss goods on your very first day? Brave little man."

Alyra, meanwhile, had also approached the Ambrose, who put her to work in helping him out.
"You'll do well under ol' Fishguts!"

Quequek wanders up to Grok and smiles, his little tail whips to and fro as he speaks."You know where stuff taken from Quequek is? He scratches at the brands on his face as he waits patiently for an answer.

The half-orc grunts at the little ratfolk's antics.

"Well, they're the captain's now you see. They're part of my stores."

OOC: To get more, you'll need a diplomacy check, to shift her attitude.

IC: Later that evening you are gathering at the deck to be given your food, and you are all served a rationing of rum. After the meal, Mister Plugg stands up.

"This ship needs to be, unfortunately, run with very strict discipline. So it was with great disappointment I learned that our very own Jakes Magpie has stolen from us! To keep our strict discipline, we must enact the punishment. Mr Scourge, if you will."

Mister Scourge steps up, and then Jakes Magpie, a male human, is dragged up to the bilges.

"Such a grave offence requires the ultimate punishment, just short of killing a crew member. So he is to be keelhauled."

The struggling of the man is to no avail, and he is dragged under the ship, for over a minute. When he emerges on the other side he has been cut to shreds.

"That is the punishment that waits for all who steal from us."

The remains is then tossed into the sea, doubtless to feed the sharks.

Before you can go off to your night actions, another of the new recruits, Sandara, approaches each of you individually to offer her friendship.

"Friends are important in a place like this - you may need to choose them wisely, but you will need them."

For a couple of you, she has an extra message.

"I managed to get these off Grok, making her think they were haunted. Try not to let the Captain or his officers know you have them back, but you'll find them useful I hope."

"Quequek impressed you store volatile explosive. Where your powder room? Quequek like to see measures to prevent accidental ignition. You use dry lock system? Heavy metal sheeting? How you store acids? Thick glass? So hard to ventilate toxic materials, Quequek very took many years learn how keep from sinking ships... mistakes made make good learning. Lost ship or two only minor price to pay." Quequek smiles happily as he discusses the tools of the trade, honestly trying to discover what means the Half-Ork uses to avoid accidental reactions on such a vessel and dripping liberal amounts of praise for any methods used while pointing out the ways he has found that might work better. "...and corpse powder makes best ash for lye. Some think is cursed by dead spirit... but that silly superstition I think... maybe... Oh, and this my favorite right here, I working on infusing these with souls so can raise dead. Still working on getting right mixtures..."

OOC:Quequek is honestly not consciously trying to get Grok to give him his things back, just attempting to compare notes with someone on the subject of hazardous material storage. Still going to roll the diplomacy check as a extension of time spent discussing a subject he has interest in. A roll of 14.

Edit: Night Moves

Quequek watches intently as the prisoner is drug under the ship, visibly disappointed by the hidden nature of this punishment. No matter how horrendous the end result, not being able to watch as every bloody chunk is removed seems to lesson the impact of such an event. Afterwards Quequek attempts to speak to Plugg about the punishment, he tries desperately to offer his assistance with such procedures as he would only ever try to increase their effectiveness and maybe show him the wisdom of the Dark Prince. In his excitement he makes a hash of the conversation.

Quequek stares at Sandra as she hands him his book of formulae, a hint of sadness tinges his voice as he thanks her. "Thank you, but book is useless without materials. Quequek no more useful then before..."

Perception 21
Diplomacy 4 Yeah, I am sure Plugg thinks that rat is a creepy little monster now.

Alyra got to work quickly, and worked diligently throughout the day. She made small talk with Ambrose where she could, trying to pry bits of information on his position and how he feels about the other members off the crew. During meal times, Alyra would speak with the other members of the crew, introduce herself and make friends wherever she could.

When Sandara approached her during one such time, she smiled. It's a pleasure, Sandara. Good friends are hard to come by, I hope we can get to know eachother better over the next few days."

Amanzi watches the keelhauling in silence. That such punishment is the immediate recourse tells him a lot about the officers on this ship - a lot that he doesn't like. As Magpie's remains are thrown to the sharks, Amanzi speaks a quiet prayer to Besmara, and turns to go below, but stops as Sandara speaks.

"Friends are indeed important, though you should be careful who you bring in to your confidence. Some will do anything to advance their own standing..." Amanzi responds, with a pointed glance at the scarred rat. "I expect the coming days to be challenging, but you can count on me." He smiles, and places his hand on her shoulder, quietly uttering a benediction to the Pirate Queen (OOC: casts resistance on her). He then turns, and heads below deck.

In the dim light, Amanzi spots Rosie Cusswell standing back a bit from a dice game, and approaches her. "Hell of a first day. Did you volunteer for this crew, or were you voluntold?"

Amanzi believes Sandara's offer of friendship is genuine, and she also gives a brief raise of her eyebrows at his benediction, and murmured to him.

"All Hail the Pirate Queen."

She lets her coat slide to the side very briefly for a moment, revealing her holy symbol of Besmara.

"Grok is a very superstitious sort."

His earlier efforts with Rosie had not angered her, but hadn't exactly gone swimmingly either. He did find out she was a new 'recruit', and recruited much in the same manner as him.
_______________________________________________________________________________

Meawhile, the little ratfolk had had little luck talking to Plugg. He just murmured very briefly.
"Listen you little rat. You only approach me, through Scourge. If you approach me directly again, I'll ensure Scourge saves a place for you on the mast at the Bloody Hour."

Upon hearing that the little rat looks Plugg directly in the eyes.

"Yes please!!! I can critique his technique yes yes yes!!!" If this does not get Plugg to give him to scourge for this impudence, and upon hearing about the punishment for tipping out the rum ration, the little beast will happily walk up to scourge, smile as he makes sure he has his attention, and he will say... "I will take my whippings now Please! You wish to give me the sweet kiss as you remove more of my flesh, yes no?"... in a very excited voice.

Yesmoro watches the results of the keelhauling with solemn interest. "These pirates certainly know how to properly keep order." he thinks to himself. He had considered stealing a weapon for himself, just in case, but seeing the punishment for theft made him think otherwise. He decided to go to sleep early for the night. Perhaps a better opportunity to improve his station would present itself later.