Broken Seas [IC]

[Plerumque]

Broken Seas, Chapter One: The Wormwood Mutiny

It was a night to remember. By some quirk of the weather, several ships had came into port on the same day, and the Formidable Maid was full to bursting with sailors. Talking, laughing, telling tall tales of their escapades on the high seas, they were in high spirits. At their behest, the tavern-keeper broached one of the finer casks of ale, and as the night went one one excess piled up on top of another. Perhaps you earned a new scar or two in one of the good-natured brawls that broke out throughout the night. Perhaps you sat at one of the gambling tables, and had a fine time regardless of whether you won or lost. Perhaps you enjoyed the simpler things- the company of friends, the sweetness of the ale, the richness of the meal that was served.

You toss and turn, and this reverie evaporates around you. Instead of a pleasant drunkenness, you have a pounding headache. Rather than the exotic flavors of imported spices, the sickly taste of alcohol dries out your mouth. And instead of the soft bed you were looking forward to, you are sprawled on a hard wooden floor. A rhythmic creaking noise greets your ears, and the room sways as if you are still drunk, though this is likely little more than wishful thinking.

As you heave yourself upright, you realize that four others are also awakening from the same pleasant dream. Perhaps you know your companions well, perhaps they were half-glimpsed faces in the tavern that night, or perhaps you don't know them at all. You have little time to contemplate the situation, though, as several pairs of heavy footsteps sound outside the room, and the harsh light of a lantern spears your eyes.

Blinking in the cruel brightness, you gradually make out the silhouette of a man standing in the door, other shadowy forms clustered behind him. The first thing you can make out is the whip in his hand. Then you can see his face, replete with a curl to his lips that could be mistaken for an expression of pain, but seems to be an attempt at a smile. Pain jars in your head as he cracks the whip and screams, "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!"

[DarkOne-Rob]

Jarred Bagrid stares for a long moment at the whip-wielding man before turning and looking at the others on the wooden deck. Seeing his sister Lilliana his eyes narrow in anger as he turns back. "Press-ganged. Wonderful..." he mutters as he stands and reaches down to help her up before turning and walking deliberately towards the man, staring him eye to eye. "Mind moving out of the way?" he asks, baring his teeth as he places himself directly in front of him.

[Odentin]

Tamesis awakes with a start and throws herself up, off of her back, her tail whipping back and forth in anger. Settling in a crouching position, she moves her hands around herself, seeking out her possessions to make an assessment of her current state. As the footsteps approach, the red-skinned woman hisses out a series of curses in a harsh, foul language that sounds out of place on this plane. As the door opens, her left hand twitches, and magical flames lick out around it, the makings of a spell.

She stares down the man for a moment before bitterly admitting to herself that with one spell and no weapons, outnumbered and alongside people whose abilities she doesn't know and can not count on, her chances of survival are nil. A low growl emanates from her throat as she closes her hand and stands up, the spell fire diminishing and disappearing entirely. Her tail continues to thrash as she stands and marches forward, glaring at the man with the whip the whole way.

[Asrigen]

Levanah knew she did not always have the best of luck but waking up upon a strange ship with a pounding headache was pushing it to new levels. She did give a small smile though as she heard a small clattering and a chitter as she pulled herself to her feet. At least it was one small hint of good fortune that Lyr, her connection to the spirits, had made it aboard with her.

From what she could only assume was some impressive cursing and grimaces among her companions in this ill-lit room, they were not here voluntarily either.

"Come along, Lyr. We do not want to keep this... captain waiting."

She dusted down her clothes and made sure the little compy was following as she made to go above deck. She was definitely not pleased with her current situation, but she did not have enough information about this current mess to be belligerent and held her tongue. She may not have followed Calistria anymore, but that did not mean she forgot that sometimes you had to wait and plan your vengeance accordingly.

[Plerumque]

The man with the whip emits a low chuckle, though there's no humor in his gaze. "So you ain't quite got the grasp of yer situation, I see. It won't matter. There'll be time enough for punishments later, and the cap'll get mad if I slice ya up afore he's got the chance." He gives a mocking bow as the first of the prisoners begin to file past him. "We'll talk about this later," he mutters under his breath, just loud enough for Jarred and Tamesis, the first two out the door, to hear.

Upon passing through the door, the salt wind blows through your hair, and you can see the vast expanse of ruffled water on all sides of the fair-sized ship. Port Peril and the mainland of the Shackles are but an ochre haze many miles astern. Figures cluster around the ship's mainmast, looking up at the higher deck on the stern, where two figures stand. One of them is a broad, muscular Garundi man with a shaven head, a long beard bound with gold rings, and an eye patch- clearly the captain. The other is a balding man wearing a long coat and holding a cat-o'-nine-tails streaked with the telltale rust of dried blood. Four others are standing on the deck as you arrive, set apart by their relative cleanliness and their apparent unease with their newfound situation. A dozen or so other pirates, clearly existing members of the crew, stand about on the deck or in the ship’s rigging.

Once you are on deck, the captain begins to speak. "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."

There's a brief hush at the end of his speech. The captain surveys the assembled crowd with a touch of disdain in his eyes, turns his back, and walks away. The man with the cat-o'-nine-tails leers. "Right then. You've met yer captain, now it's time to get to work. Anyone got some backtalk I need to beat out of 'em, or can we move on?"

[DarkOne-Rob]

"No sir, Mr...Plugg?" Jarred says, a deliberate question implicit at the end of his reply. "Where do you want my sister and me?" he asks, his face blank as he looks carefully straight ahead, his eyes studiously surveying nothing in particular somewhere behind the man with the cat-o'-nine-tails.

[Plerumque]

"Plugg it is," says the man. "Glad to hear Mister Scourge impressed upon you what our expectations are." He jumps down from the upper deck, landing with surprising grace on the boards below. "First thing is we need someone in the riggings. These four sons a' redheads couldn't climb into their hammocks, as I regret to say we've already found out. Show me you can climb, and you get the pleasure of working directly for me. Refuse to climb, or pretend you're as bad as these mongrels, and your job will be providing Mister Scourge's mid-morning entertainment. You want my advice?" He jerks a thumb at the mast. "Climb. First one to the crow's nest wins."

[DarkOne-Rob]

Jarred looks meaningfully at his little sister before moving to begin climbing. As he does so, he makes every effort to aid her, making no effort to hide his actions from anyone observing.

Spoiler: Mechanics

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I usually won't be in a position to use Aid Another, and getting Lilliana out from under the thumb of the deck master would be worthwhile until we can figure something more out. Given such conditions, Jarred will split his actions between climbing the mast and assisting her.

Successful climb checks result in quarter-speed movement, so each good roll is seven and a half feet gained per round. I am guessing the mast is about thirty feet high with a DC 10 (ship's rigging).

Jarred's checks to climb (1d20+4)[21], (1d20+4)[20], (1d20+4)[23], (1d20+4)[6], (1d20+4)[16]
Jarred's checks to assist Lilliana (vs. DC 10 to Aid Another) (1d20+4)[5], (1d20+4)[13], (1d20+4)[24], (1d20+4)[23], (1d20+4)[14]

Jarred stops climbing when either his sister or he reaches the crow's nest, preferring to help her unless her rolls are just abysmal.

[Odentin]

Tamesis gives the man with the whip a confident smirk as she passes, thrashing her tail at him without making contact in a show of defiance. She stands proudly on deck as the Captain speaks his piece, then focuses her attention on Mr. Plugg. Once he finishes his little bit of self importance, Tamesis releases a long sigh and takes the time to take a look around the rest of the ship and its occupants.

Rolling her eyes at the command, Tamesis wanders over to the mast and begins to climb.

Climb: (1d20+4)[15]

[Farmerbink]

As the ship sways, Lilliana lurches into consciousness. After dry-heaving briefly, the last vestiges of her drunkenness finally fade into the bright sunlight behind the man. Jarred helps her to her feet, and she wonders silently, What in the hell is this all about? Duty? Captain? Press-what? She stumbles through the open door before staring numbly ahead as the captain speaks his piece.

She looks up to the crow's nest. Can't be tough, compared to climbing up underneath a dock with no handholds. She squints against the sun's harsh rays as she looks for the easiest route. Finally she speaks for the first time since waking: First wins, huh? Fine. Without another word, she makes for the riggings and begins quickly hoisting herself upwards.

Spoiler: Climb checks

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Lilliana will accept Jarred's help, as long as they're close enough that she can receive it. As he mentioned, each successful check (vs whatever the DC is-ship's rigging is suggested at DC 10) results in 7.5 feet upward.

If this doesn't count as being threatened, I would like to take 10 (for a 16), and if the rigging is indeed a DC 10, I'd like to climb accelerated at a -5 penalty for climbing at half speed instead of quarter. A single round of 2 move actions will get me 30 feet up, at that rate.

If this is considered threatened, and the DC is still 10, I will still try the accelerated climbing until I pass one check, and then attempt climbing at normal speed afterward.

Hopefully I can take 10 twice and disregard die rolls (they tend to hate me). If not:
(1d20+1)[14] (accelerated. Afterward, (1d20+1)[15] accelerated again)

By my napkin math, the above two checks should get me 30 feet high. If the crow's nest is higher, it's a darned good thing that I'm not the one climbing- I'm afraid of heights, IRL. Yay, fantasy role-play, .

(assuming that at least one of those gets a pass, a single pass below gets me to 22.5 feet; two passes = 30 feet up.)
Each additional successful check is good for 7.5 more feet upward. (two checks per round of double move actions)
(1d20+6)[15]
(1d20+6)[14]
(1d20+6)[17]
(1d20+6)[16]
(1d20+6)[12]
(1d20+6)[10]

[Smileybastard]

Taggaron

Tagg wakes a little slower than the others to the familiar sound of a ship. I don't recall anything about a ship. In any case a ship he could do.


"First thing is we need someone in the riggings. These four sons a' redheads couldn't climb into their hammocks, as I regret to say we've already found out. Show me you can climb, and you get the pleasure of working directly for me. Refuse to climb, or pretend you're as bad as these mongrels, and your job will be providing Mister Scourge's mid-morning entertainment. You want my advice?"

Without a though Taggaron shakes off his sleep and races to the top.

Spoiler: Crunch

Show

Climb (1d20+5)[17]
Profession Sailor (1d20+6)[12]

[DarkOne-Rob]

As Lilliana gets further ahead Jarred nods and smiles grimly. Remaining where he is he turns and calls down to Mr. Plugg and asks, "Since I am already here, shall I handle the lines and sails here or would you rather I return to the deck and begin working there?" He waits for the first mate's (?) answer and hops to it, continuing to observe the rest of the crew as he does.

Eying the new crew members and their progress up the mast he says, loudly enough for them to hear but not those on the deck, "You got names? I'm Jarred and my sister is Lilliana. Seems we're going to be shipmates..."

[Asrigen]

Levanah's eyebrows raise slightly but begins to attempt to climb. She's not particularly looking forward to it, as it was never her greatest asset. She tucks her dancing skirts into a semblance of shortened pants to make the climbing easier and steps up to the mast.

As she attempts to at least look like she is trying, all she can think of is how ridiculous were the people to abduct her. A lady with blue skin and gills. Yes, no way she could get off this ship and back to land is she really wanted to.

"At least this will make an interesting story to tell later," she mumbles.

Spoiler

Show

Climb (1d20-1)[4]
(1d20-1)[15]
(1d20-1)[19]
(1d20-1)[13]
(1d20-1)[7]
(1d20-1)[2]
(1d20-1)[7]
(1d20-1)[13]

[Odentin]

"Tamesis. Tamesis Kieran. She states her surname forcefully and with no illusion as to her disdain for her current situation.

[Smileybastard]

Taggaron

"My name is Taggaron or just Tagg." Tagg says from the crows nest, looking around in a confused manner. "So what is going on? I have no idea how I ended up here."

[Plerumque]

Plugg’s mouth curls up in a satisfied smile. ”You’ll do,” he says, gesturing to Lilliana, who scrambles into the crow’s nest a moment before the others on her heels. ”Lucky you to have such a helpful brother. You’ll be working under me, and I’ll give yer job once we’ve finished with this. Now, shaddup!" he shouts at those who have begun to talk. "There'll be time enough for chitchat when you're done swabbing the decks. Next job, then. The crew’s beginnin’ to realize that our sozzled rat of a cook isn’t going to be producing much of anything edible, less he has a helper. Can you cook?” He demands this first of the recruits still grouped on the deck: a handsome woman with long red hair and a carefully neutral expression, a gnome wearing a foppish purple hat and an eye patch, a scowling man with a blue Varisian scarf tied around his head, and a muscular halfling woman with a hatchet in her belt. He listens for a moment, and, glowering, moves on to where the others stand at the base of the mast. ”Can any of you lot cook?” he asks brusquely.

[Odentin]

Tamesis scoffs at the question and chuckles, "Only mortal souls, sorry. I'll bet yours is delicious." She smirks defiantly at Plugg as she speaks, taunting him.

[Asrigen]

"Yes, I actually can cook a fair better than climbing a piece of wood," Levanah replies when she figures no one else will reply. Hells, she had worked in probably worse conditions than this ship had. "If any of you fellows were eating the night of our... relocation, it's likely you ate something of mine."

'Too bad I hadn't poisoned it,' she thought.

[Plerumque]

Plugg raises an eyebrow in response to Tamesis' taunt, a cruel quirk to his mouth. "I've met your like before, tiefling. You don't impress me, and you don't impress anyone, with your posturing. It makes me pity you more than anything, so I'll give you a pass this time, but mercy is not my habit. Next time you so much as open your arrogant mouth, it'll be the lash for you. Understood?" He doesn't so much as wait for an answer before turning to Levanah. "Afraid you won't be turning out gourmet delicacies any time soon, with Fishguts Kroop in charge of you, but good enough for me. Unless anyone else is a chef too, you're the cook's mate. You can report to the galley immediately." He turns back to the assemblage. "The rest of you bilge-buckets without any useful talents are swabs. Your immediate superior is Master Scourge. Be advised, he likes back-talk even less than I do. He'll give you your task." Plugg points to Lilliana. "You, you'll be doing rigging repair. There was a storm a few days ago, but we've had them working on it, so it shouldn't be that bad. Find where it's been damaged and patch it- you can ask the other riggers about where the tools are. I'll be checking back in on all you soon." He raises his voice for the last statement, then strides down the stairs.

Master Scourge clears his throat. "Right then, ye bastards. You two," he says, pointing to Jarred and Tamesis, "man the bilges. You three," Taggaron, the man in the scarf around his head, and the halfling woman, "will be hauling rope and doing knot work. And the rest of ya, scrub the decks. If you don't work, it's a dozen lashes."

Spoiler: Jobs

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Rigging repair requires a series of climbing checks that Lilliana can take 10 on, followed by a DC 10 Profession (sailor) or Dexterity check.

Cleaning the bilges requires a DC 12 Strength check, and a DC 10 Constitution check to avoid fatigue.

Rope and knot work a DC 10 Profession (sailor) or Strength check, and a DC 10 Constitution check to avoid fatigue.

Swabbing the deck requires a DC 10 Strength or Constitution check, in which failure results in (guess what) fatigue.

Master Scourge doesn't supervise constantly. You may choose to take one of these actions during the day:

Work Diligently: Gain a +4 bonus on any one check for a job’s daily task
Influence: Make normal checks for a job’s daily task and attempt to influence a single NPC
Sneak: Make normal checks for a job’s daily task and briefly explore one area of the ship (you can make a single Perception check or other skill check with no chance of detection)
Shop: Take a –2 penalty on all checks for a job’s daily task and visit the quartermaster’s store (this option is not available today)
Shirk: Take a –2 penalty on all checks for a job’s daily task and take time exploring one area of the ship. You can take 10 on a single Perception check or other skill check, but must make a check to avoid being discovered.

[Farmerbink]

From her perspective in the crow's nest, Lilliana surveys the uppermost decks of the ship. As she watches, realization dawns upon her. Jarred said we'd been pressganged. Does that mean we're pirates!? she thought to herself. With the unparalleled fervor of an excited and naive young adult, she sets herself to the task of repairing the riggings, thrilled beyond description to be experiencing the life of a pirate.

Spoiler: actions

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working diligently for a +4 to profession(sailor). Until she gets reprimanded for it, she's going to be overly cheerful about being a pirate
take 10 on climbs for 16, and (1d20+8)[21] on profession(sailor)- (counting the +4)

[DarkOne-Rob]

Jarred heads to the bilges, his keen eyes piercing the poor light as he looks around and tries to get a handle on the layout of the ship. He works until the job is done before taking a moment to duck in and out of the doorways near them.

Spoiler: Mechanics

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I am a bit confused - does it take one successful Strength Check at DC 12 to clean the bilges, or a series? How many attempts may we take? Answered in OoC thread.

Also, I have the power to take on a different form for one minute per day (at this level), gaining a +2 Strength bonus during that time. May I use this to gain a bonus on this job? If it is possible, I will use it to make this job go faster and easier, but if the job takes longer than the one minute allotted, then I won't. Will keep it in reserve.

If it is possible to take multiple attempts to pass the check, Jarred will sneak around a bit to see what the layout of the ship is like. If that is not possible, he will work diligently until the task is completed.

Spoiler: Sneaking attempts

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Strength checks (1d20+4)[17], (1d20+4)[9], (1d20+4)[7], (1d20+4)[17]

Spoiler: Working Diligently attempt

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Strength check (1d20+8)[17]

Constitution check (1d20+2)[16] (I assume I can only roll this once) in any case.

[Smileybastard]

Taggaron

Taggaron begins to work with the ropes as instructed while trying to figure out what was going on, by listening.

Spoiler: Crunch

Show

Profession: Sailor (1d20+6)[9]
Perception (1d20+6)[24] to see or hear details of what is going on

[Odentin]

Tamesis gives Plugg a sly wink in response to his prattling, making no show that his words affect her in any way. Once in the bilges, she allows herself a quick chuckle before starting her work, "I'm really not sure what's funnier; The fact that he thinks I was joking, or that they wasted so much effort in getting us here. If they had just asked, I would have signed up willingly."

Assuming that there are no other crewmembers to talk to, aside from Jarred, Tamesis works diligently until the end of the day, continuing to laugh to herself every now and again as she runs over the situation in her head.

Spoiler

Show

Strength: (1d20+4)[10]
Constitution: (1d20+5)[11]

Edit: Ouch.

[Asrigen]

Levanah held back a sneer at the name of her superior, but nodded her head and set off to find the ship's galley. Really, who came up with the names for these men? It was like they were trying to outdo eachother in silliness.

"Come along, Lyr. Do try to stay out from under feet, and help yourself to any rats you might see."

She came upon Kroop a short minute later and set about to helping do any preparation and cooking that was needed for the day.

Spoiler

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Profession: Cook (1d20+7)[17]

[Plerumque]

Spoiler: Taggaron

Show

There isn't much to hear. Master Scourge watches the deckhands keenly for half an hour or so, clearly hoping to catch a mistake, and then leaves down the stairs. He reappears about once an hour to check on the work and administer a harsh rebuke to anyone not moving as quick as he'd like. His two jobmates work quietly: the man with the scarf around his head keeps his distance from the others, and the halfling is silent except for the utterance of a bloody expletive if she drops something or fumbles a knot.

Spoiler: Levanah

Show

Levanah’s first impression of the galley is a madness of dirt, food, and knives, a cramped kitchen with little semblance of order. A score of chickens and three goats wander freely through the area, bleating occasionally. The stoves are lit, with cauldrons bubbling atop them and bars to prevent unfortunate falls. Kroop is leaning unsteadily on a work-table and picking his teeth. He straightens up when he sees Levanah and fixes bleary eyes on her face. ”I’m, ah, guessing you’re the new assistant.” His voice is thick with the accent of the Shackles. ”Don’t reckon I met a blue woman afore, but it won’t matter so long as you can cook.” He’s a heavyset man, with the body of someone who was once fit but has let themselves go. He wears a stained apron and a belt with various kitchen implements stuck through it, and smiles with a mouthful of grimy teeth. A large black cockerel perches on his shoulder, and a half-empty bottle rests next to his hand. ”’M Ambrose Kroop. Crew calls me Fishguts, when they’re havin’ their fun. This’s Black-Hearted Bezebel.” He pats the rooster affectionately. ”Yer job’ll be to help me prepare the meals- thankfully, the sailors ain’t picky, but the officers are- and to fish. Sometimes, hunt shells. I got the stew comin’ along fine, so if yer wantin’ to settle in an’ figure out yer new accod- accomon- livins’, I ain’t got an objection. Any questions?”

[DarkOne-Rob]

"I'm really not sure what's funnier; The fact that he thinks I was joking, or that they wasted so much effort in getting us here. If they had just asked, I would have signed up willingly."

Jarred smirks mirthlessly at the tiefling. "If this ship and crew can commandeer treasure, I may find it worthwhile as well, though I am unconvinced. What little I have seen and heard does not inspire me - if you must kidnap crew members and threaten your people I doubt you are able to perform as well as if they were driven and motivated by a common goal," he says as he tirelessly works. "Fear can motivate, but the allure of treasure and power can do so much more..." As he speaks a hungry spark can be seen in Jarred's eyes, particularly as he mentions "treasure and power."

[Smileybastard]

Taggaron

Taggaron asks the closest person as he works. "Is this a pirate ship?"

[Odentin]

Tamesis shrugs and grunts a bit with the difficult work, "Fear is fine and the promise of treasure great, but neither will buy true loyalty. Courage will eventually get the better of fear and feeding a man's greed will only make it larger, until it becomes too large to control." She grunts again, transitioning into a low, frustrated growl as she struggles with the work, "Respect is the key. That's how granddad did it. Earned the respect of his crew, and they made him the most feared pirate on the sea."

[Plerumque]

Taggaron

Taggaron asks the closest person as he works. "Is this a pirate ship?"

The man in the headscarf grunts as he lifts a heavy coil of rope, muscles working. "Are ye soft in the head? Of course she is. The Wormwood ain't a beauty, to be sure, but she's feared enough, and that's good enough fer me. Now, ye'll shut that bear-trap of yours and let me work." His tone leaves no brook for argument.

[Smileybastard]

Taggaron

Taggaron nods and smiles. Finally a pirate ship, now to prove himself.