# Deep Water and Shoals II



## Bob Aberton (Aug 11, 2003)

Malthas,

"Old sailor, say you?  His companion was elf, like my Brethren, but black of skin and red-eyed?"  The elf chieftain says.  He spits and then says more angrily, "They came here; the old man was warrior, he kill two, three of my Brethren.  The Jonah was weak; one of our arrows slew him.  They were in league with Standishtowners.  If you are their lackeys then you, too, are in league with men of Standishtown.  You will slay no more of my Brethren."  This last is said in a hostile tone, and the chieftain adopts an aggressive posture, although he does not yet give any sign of attacking.  

But something about his speech does not ring true; if Jonah had been killed along with Antheos and the Standishtown boatman, his body is not in the clearing, unlike all the other casualties of the skirmish who fought against the elves.


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## dead_radish (Aug 11, 2003)

Malthas shakes his head.  "The captain would not attack first.  If he slew any of your Brethren, they struck the first blow.  And Jonah would not fall so easily either.  I see no elven bodies in the clearing.  And as to your claims of Standishtowners, if you know aught of seafarers, you know that you put in to port in places you'd not oft choose to inhabit - I would wager the fact that we were thrown out of a tavern for brawling with the natives would dispel your claims of an alliance."

He grins rakishly.  "Anything else you'd like to claim about us that I might disprove?  Or would you prefer to merely give over our friends and avoid more sparring?"


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## Xael (Aug 11, 2003)

Jonah stirs from his slumber as the captain speaks. *_This is getting on my nerves. Badly._* He changes into a crouching position while taking the musket in his hands and scans the surrounding forest.

OOC: Spot 4 + 4 = 8, Listen 9 + 4 = 13.

Sorry about the delay, I've been away for two weeks and it seems that I forgot to mention about it to this thread.


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## Bob Aberton (Aug 14, 2003)

Malthas,

"Perhaps captain did not shoot first, but he side with Standishtowners!  He slew three of my brethren and a Great Wolf.  He and his Jonah may have escaped, but my trackers hunt them down!  They find him, they will slay him and the Jonah!" blusters the elf chieftain, apparently needled by your words in defence of the Captain and yourselves.

He pauses for a moment, realizing that he let slip something he did not mean to - the Captain and Jonah are safe for the moment, though apparently not for long.  He knows he has lost his leverage in your neogotiations, and lapses into sullen silence.

Jonah,

For the moment, the forest is silent and still; you can neither hear nor see anything.


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## Uriel (Aug 14, 2003)

Standing back a bit, yet listening to the Elf prattle on, Nico 'scratches his nose'  for a moment and casts _Detect Thoughts_ , trying to mask the casting with mumbles and feigning slapping at insects etc...

OoC:  DC 16 Divination. Trying to get a read on the direction that the cap'n and Jonah may have fled.


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## dead_radish (Aug 14, 2003)

Malthas looks at the elf, and shakes his head.  "So your people are in the habit of attacking and killing those that you assume, wrongly, to be part of the only port in the area?  So are there any here that are not Standishtowners, if they are not your people?"  He looks challengingly at the elf.  "And you would blame them for defending themselves?  This is a strange outlook your people have."


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## kenjib (Aug 14, 2003)

Vemuz whispers "shhhh..." and waits to see if his captive will ever prove a useful bargaining tool.  Not yet...


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## Bob Aberton (Aug 17, 2003)

Malthas,

The elf chieftain bristles slightly, but glances at the hostage elf and visibly attempts to calm himself down.

"My Brethren seeks only to protect our ancestor's trees!" an uneasy pause follows.  "But no mind, I tire of exchange.  You please release hostage, I try to keep my Brethren from killing your kep-tan*, yes?"

(OOC: *=badly mangled pronounciation of captain, of course)

Nicodemus,

The elf chieftain's mind is too strong for your spell to penetrate, but you detect a general consensus among the warriors in the bush that they should be ending the negotiations - some of them would prefer violence - and follow the "silver haired sailorman" and his "dark lackey" North, in the direction of the plantations.

(OOC All: Sorry for my prolonged silence - My computer came down with that wierd virus that's been going around.)


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## dead_radish (Aug 17, 2003)

Malthas considers.  "You will also include us under the aegis of 'no harm'.  And we can negotiate passage and trackers without threat of violence, as friends."  Malthas removes his hand, and offers the elf his arm.  "Have we a deal, ser?"


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## Tonguez (Aug 17, 2003)

As Malthas comes towards concluded the deal with the natives the half-orc navigator feels himself begins to complete the _Prayer to calm a Storm_ that he has been whispering beneath his breath as he stood back and watched. 

The gun is still readied and he accepts that it may need to be fired if things do not go well from this critical juncture ...

(ooc just saying 'still here' - the supply of blankets and metal axeheads ready _*wonders if anyone will get the reference*_)


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## Bob Aberton (Aug 18, 2003)

Malthas,

The elf chieftain hesitates, looking around at the clearing; at Malachi and Nicodemus, clearly "primed for action," as it were, at Stout and Sanchez and the loaded swivel gun, and at the menacing-looking Vemuz and his captive.

He raises his right hand, and for a moment, it looks as though arrows will fly.  But instead of gesturing to fire, he makes a summoning motion; the brush parts, and six elves, clad like their leader in wolfskins and leather step out, forming into a line behind their leader.

"Now, we all put down weapons, then you and me talk," he says, shaking your hand briefly and releasing it quickly, as though afraid of being contaminated.  Nonetheless, his hands feel as though they could crush a reasonably sized boulder.  "But not call us friends.  Friends made by threats no true friends; tem-po-rar-ee allies, at most."

Malachi,

Malthas appears to have handled the situation superbly, although the chieftain exudes disgust at having to neogiate with those whom he regards as affiliated with the Standishtowners, and the warriors are clearly uneasy.  

(OOC Malachi:  I get the reference!)

(OOC All:  I'll be in vacation until Thursday, just so's you all know.)


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## Uriel (Aug 18, 2003)

OoC: Bob, is their a Sailor's term/sland that I could use to confer 'North' to my shipmates? Something the Elves wouldn't know. Something like...

IC Well lads, seems that things have taken a turn towards _Calypso's Crown_ <North, towards the top of her head, etc...>.
Might I remind you all that _not every WInd blows favorably _ 
<Things are taking a nasty turn,danger!>


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## dead_radish (Aug 21, 2003)

Malthas nods.  "Aye, that's true.  But everything starts somewhere."  He sets Tuanna down beside him, and crosses his hands on his chest.  "There's one."  He looks expectantly at the Chief.


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## Bob Aberton (Aug 23, 2003)

Malthas,

The chieftain nods approvingly when you set Tuanna down, and lays his own weapons beside Tuanna.

He gestures to his "Brethren," and there is an uneasy pause as it looks like the other elves will not follow the lead of their chieftain.  But they know where their loyalties lie, and bows, hatchets, and spears clatter to the ground.  Deprived of their weaponry, or at least deprived of their conspicuous weaponry, they stand in a row with arms crossed, shifting uneasily and some of the more belligerent ones cracking their knuckles.

"Your Brethren," the chieftain says, gesturing at the rest of the expedition.  "Will put down their weapons like honorable men, yes?"

Nicodemus,

(OOC:  Yes, that works.  Thanks for the idea for Calypso's Crown, by the way...)

(OOC All:  While I think of it, do any of the characters present here speak/understand Elven?  I can't find the Rogue's Gallery thread anymore...)

Jonah,

You and Captain McCrenshaw pass the next half hour in tense silence, scanning the woods with weapons ready, and getting no rest at all.  The lack of food or drinkable water (particularly with the river a mere few feet away) merely adds to the discomfort of the whole situation; even the normally steady Captain is becoming prone to jumping at shadows.

(OOC: Spot & Listen checks again, please.)


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## Tonguez (Aug 23, 2003)

"Gun Down" Malachi half-turns to Sanchez and Stout with the order to point the barrel down.

He relaxes his own weapon too and cautiously shuffles forward to join the others

(ooc BOB check out the Malachi Legba entry in my sig - link to the Rogues Gallery Page)


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## Uriel (Aug 23, 2003)

OoC: Nicodemus speaks Elven, Bob.

IC: Smiling as he does, Nico sets his loaded pistol upon the ground.


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## kenjib (Aug 23, 2003)

Vemuz tells his hostage, "Your weapons too.  Slowly and no games."  He then calls out to Malachi in the heavy pigin slang of the islands, hoping the elves grasp of common is not good enough to understand the heavy dialect "Waja do nah blood keep, Malachi?"

He is asking Malachi what he should do about the captive using a term commonly used for ransoming war captives when tribes on the isles fight.

He is also buying time to make sure he is the last man to drop his weapon.  He'll not go barehanded while others are armed before him.


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## dead_radish (Aug 24, 2003)

Malthas looks around at his companions and fellows.  "We will all set down our weapons, yes?"  He then smiles at the Chief.  "Now we are getting somewhere.  Even the most inauspicious beginnings can lead to comfortable surroundings, eh?"  He then reaches slowly into the folds of his clothing and pulls out a silver flask, takes a pull from it, and offers it to the elf.  "A drink for luck, and the Lady?"

OOC: I apparently didn't select languages for Malthas.  He's got +3 int, so I would likely have taken Common, Halfling, Elven, Dwarven and Gnomish.


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## Tonguez (Aug 24, 2003)

kenjib said:
			
		

> *Vemuz tells his hostage, "Your weapons too.  Slowly and no games."  He then calls out to Malachi in the heavy pigin slang of the islands, hoping the elves grasp of common is not good enough to understand the heavy dialect "Waja do nah blood keep, Malachi?"
> 
> *




"Baton belong-dhem down, yu to'go dhem nah blood keep" Malachi answers Vemuz in the same pidgin indicating that the hostage should only be released once all the elves weapons are down.

"Lady begud mon belong-hem" he grins

Of course you notice that though its head is pointed down and held only loosely in his hand Malachi still has his half-spear in hand - the customs of a lifetime are hard to break.


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## Xael (Aug 24, 2003)

Jonah is starting to get enough of the forest life, at least without sufficient supplies and (probably) a group of vicious elves hunting him. The forest's shapes blur as he fights against the lovely thougth of sleeping. His vision disrupted by the monotonous guarding and his half-awake state, he still tries to stay on guard.

OOC: Spot 3 + 4 - 1 (I've forgotten to add this before ) = 6 
Listen 15 + 4 - 1 = 18


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## Bob Aberton (Aug 26, 2003)

Malthas,

The elf  stiffens when you reach for the flask, and when you offer it to him, he eyes it suspiciously, but seeing that you have displayed good faith so far, he takes a quick nip and hands it back.

"Your Lady, I know not.  But luck is never unwelcome," he says, if not amiably at least not openly hostile any more.  "I will say this: I not think you are friends of Standishtown now, for clamdiggers would never share with Brethren, much less drink with Brethren."

Vemuz,

The captive, moving with exaggerated slowness and trying desparately to look non-threatening, reaches into his belt and flings his hatchet and bow to the ground, about five feet away and conspicuously out of reach, should he try anything.

Nicodemus, Malthas, & All Others who Speak Elven,

When Malthas shares his flask with the elf chieftain, it sets off a veritable gale of animated whispering among his Brethren; some appear to be disgusted with their chieftain drinking with Outsiders, and even the most amiable of the elves (relatively speaking) are still cautious of this new developement.  None of them seem to be advocating violence - yet.  

They do not appear to be concerned that members of the expedition will understand them, as among them only their chieftain seems to speak Hullish.  They must believe that Outsiders speaking Elven are as much of a rarity as elves speaking Hullish, or indeed any of the dialects of the Middle Land.

Jonah,

Although you cannot see anything, the sound of a snapping twig comes to you from about two hundred yards in front of you (assuming you are facing the forest and not the river) and to the left.

Captain McCrenshaw heard the noise as well, and begins to creep cautiously forward, holding his pistol at the ready.

"If anything, an' I mean anything, moves, Mr. Jonah, shoot it.  I don't trust this forest any farther than I can throw it with me throwin' arm tied b'hind me back," he says softly.

(OOC:  This is getting tiresome, isn't it ?  Spot and Listen checks again, please...)


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## Uriel (Aug 26, 2003)

<Nico Spot 14,Listen 11, Artimus Spot 12,Listen 22>

Nico _sends_  to Artimus, 'Go North and seek the Captain,you Jackaninny, he's up there somewhere, most likely bleedin' and in much danger.' 

Artimus scampers through the trees, high up and out of the watchful eyes of the Grugach.


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## kenjib (Aug 26, 2003)

Vemuz releases the elf and pushes him forcefully (and begrudgingly) in the direction opposite the direction he had thrown his weapons.  Vemuz then begins a long, drawn out, process of removing his bow and a large number of axes from various parts of his person, grinning as he drops each to clatter one by one at his feet.  When he is done, he pats his hands against his sides and lifts his arms in the air to indicate as such.


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## Bob Aberton (Aug 28, 2003)

(OOC All: This is a *BUMP*

I'm waiting for Malthas to post, seeing as he's taken on the role of spokes-halfing [heh...] for the party....)


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## dead_radish (Aug 28, 2003)

OOC: Hmmm.  I had a post, I thought....

Malthas grins as Vemuz begins to disarm, and winks at the Chief.  'This may take a minute, I fear."  After the pile is built as high as it'll go, he turns back to the Chief.  "I am called Malthas Swifthand, Pilot of the Calypso's Grace.  And I drink with many men, and I see no reason not to drink with you as well.  I suppose we could keep calling you 'The elf that is no longer going to kill us', but it does nae have much of a ring to it...."

He waits expectantly.


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## Bob Aberton (Aug 31, 2003)

Nicodemus,

Artimus speeds off northwards, although you know that it will probably be some hours before he is able to report anything of use, as the Captain and Jonah will likely have been fleeing northward in great haste, and they have a large head start.

Malthas,

The elf chieftain's visage remains stern and unmoving, but for a moment you could almost think you saw a gleam of amusement as he watches the boatswain divest himself of his arsenal.

"My name you could not say in Elven.  But in your tongue you would call me Heart-Of-Ten-Thousand-Oaks, for I am reckoned bold among my Brethren," he replies.

Jonah,

As you watch the the forest carefully, a breath of air carries a soft voice to your ear, speaking in Elven.

"You are a great warrior, He-of-the-Red-Eyes, companion of Old-Man-who-Fights-like-Bear.  Will you put down your weapons and parley with us?  We wish no unnecessary bloodshed."

Next to you, Captain McCrenshaw stiffens.  

"Some voice on the wind," he says, in a hoarse whisper.  "Speakin' in gibberish...can ye understand what it's sayin'?"

You cannot pinpoint the source of the voice - some Elvish magic must have carried to your ear.  But you know it emanated from none to far away, from the underbrush directly ahead of you.


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## Uriel (Aug 31, 2003)

Nico _sends_  to Artimus 'Keep sharp, Arti, the cap'n is out there somewhere. Don't go too far, n'mind fer Owls.'


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## Xael (Sep 3, 2003)

Jonah tighens his grip on the musket, but raises it towards the sky at least for the moment. Turning to captain, he says: "It's the Grugach, captain. They say they wish to speak. He then waits captain's decision.

OOC: Sorry for the delay again. Been fighting with the new boards, busy, and half-sick.


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## Bob Aberton (Sep 4, 2003)

Jonah,

"That so?" says Captain McCrenshaw.  He puts down his cutlass and one pistol, but keeps the other in his belt, close at hand.  "'Bout time they ceased their target practice an' started actin' like civilized beings."

He cups his hands to his mouth and says, with distinct lack of diplomacy,  "Alright, you...what'ye'call'ems... you grugach.  Y' can come out now!  We'll talk!"

Not a twig stirs.

"Jonah, p'raps y'd best talk to them.  Tell 'em we'll parlay if they'll come out in th' open and put down their weapons.  Keep y'r musket close by 'til y' see their weapons lyin' on the ground before yeh, though," he instructs.


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## dead_radish (Sep 4, 2003)

Malthas nods.  "It would seem that you were indeed.  And I do not wish to offend you, Heart-Of-Ten-Thousand-Oaks, but we worry for the safety of our Captain.  If we could find him quickly, there is then much that I think we could discuss."


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## Bob Aberton (Sep 5, 2003)

Malthas,

The chieftain nods.

"Very well," he says.  "We find your Kep-tan, as I promise, then we talk.  You have boat, I see.  I go with you in boat, and you choose one of your Brethren to travel with my trackers, on foot.  We keep boat close to the shore, follow trackers.  Agree?"


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## Bob Aberton (Sep 5, 2003)

Malthas,

The chieftain nods.

"Very well," he says.  "We find your Kep-tan, as I promise, then we talk.  You have boat, I see.  I go with you in boat, and you choose one of your Brethren to travel with my trackers, on foot.  We keep boat close to the shore, follow trackers.  Agree?"


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## dead_radish (Sep 5, 2003)

For the first time, Malthas seems to include the others in his thoughts.  He looks around at the group, seeking acceptance of the plan.

"As long as my companions are amenable to that course...."

He waits for the rest to agree before proceeding.


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## dead_radish (Sep 5, 2003)

For the first time, Malthas seems to include the others in his thoughts.  He looks around at the group, seeking acceptance of the plan.

"As long as my companions are amenable to that course...."

He waits for the rest to agree before proceeding.


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## Xael (Sep 7, 2003)

Jonah nods to the captain and the shouts to the forest (in elven): "We will talk with you. Come out where we can see you and put your weapons away."

Jonah positions his musket next to him on the ground.


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## Tonguez (Sep 7, 2003)

dead_radish said:
			
		

> For the first time, Malthas seems to include the others in his thoughts.  He looks around at the group, seeking acceptance of the plan.
> 
> "As long as my companions are amenable to that course...."
> 
> He waits for the rest to agree before proceeding.




"Ah'll stey wit dhem trackers ashore" Malachi steps forward indicating his agreement with the Gugrachs deal. His features are calm but stern as he looks down into the elf chieftains eyes. 

"dhats an order!" he cuts off anyone else before they can interject "nay one else t' be puttin hemsel' forwar' tinsteard. Tell dhe elf dhet Malthas"


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## kenjib (Sep 7, 2003)

That jarring smile appears again.  "Aye then.  I'll help protect the welfare of Heart-Of-Ten-Thousand-Oaks here aboard our vessel."


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## dead_radish (Sep 8, 2003)

Malthas smiles at Malachai.  "Aye, m'friend.  I think you'll be an excellent choice."  Malthas then steps on to the boat, and looks pointedly at the Chieftan.  "I'd not waste time, Heart-of-a-Thousand-Oaks.  Is there aught else to discuss now?"


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## Bob Aberton (Sep 10, 2003)

Malthas,

The elf chieftain nods.

"There is nothing more to speak of, if you wish to find your Kep-tan alive," he says, and strides towards the longboat.  

Stout and Sanchez, uneasy at his approach, but seeing that he has no immediate violent intent, conduct him into the longboat as though the elf was an admiral boarding his flagship.

Malthas, Vemuz, Nicodemus,

The longboat, with Mr. Swifthand as coxswain and Vemuz Thrice-born steering, is guided into midstream and then, with Stout and Sanchez beating out a slow cadence with their oars, begins to crawl upriver, keeping pace with the shore party (and within musket-shot, in the event anything should go wrong on land).

Malthas again,

The elf chieftain sits in the stern sheets, facing the bow.  For a long time, he sits motionless, gazing out over the river and occassionally glancing at the trackers, combing the river banks.  The only sounds are the squeak of the oarlocks and the soft splashing of the oars.

With startling suddenness, he breaks the quiet.

"Your fellow who travels with trackers," he says.  "You People from over the Sea keep his kind as slaves.  I see with my own eyes.  But he give orders to you, lead you and your companions.  How is this?"

Jonah,

The brush rustles, and four Grugach, clad like the others in wolf-skins and barkcloth, step into the clearing.

They carry bows, but their bows are unstrung, and their arrows are all in their quivers.  Silently, they lay them down in front of them.  One of them at last steps forward.

"Now," he says in Elven, with a stern frown.  "Now, we shall talk.  I am called Mind-of-the-Mighty-River, for my people call me wise.  What mean you by your trespassing under the boughs of our ancestor's trees, and how do you justify the blood on your hands?"

Captain McCrenshaw stands to one side, obviously uneasy at his inability to understand the language of these proceedings.


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## dead_radish (Sep 10, 2003)

Malthas spits to the side.  "Some do keep his people as slaves.  Some people prefer goats to women too, but I don't much trust them either.  There is no truer friend of man nor the Lady than Malachai.  Standishmen not withstanding, you might find that there are many outside the forest that are worthy of of friendship.  Though there are many that would do best as anchors on a sinking ship."


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## Tonguez (Sep 10, 2003)

Malachi gazes silentlyat the Grugach around him, his face still passive, even grim. He does not speak to them and though he follows their direction he makes it clear in his stance that hedoes so by his own choice and not by their compulsion.

He moves with them using his own skill at tracking to keep pace and position as they move along the shoreline, seeking any clue that the captain might be near. 

(wilderness lore check 11+5 = 16)


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## Bob Aberton (Sep 13, 2003)

Malachi,

The tracks of the Captain and Jonah are not hard to follow, as they walked close alongside the muddy riverbank.

One odd thing that you do notice, however, is that after a few miles of the Captain's and Jonah's tracks, a third set of footprints joins them, walking alongside and in the same direction.

Also at the conjunction of these tracks is a leaf, pinned to the trunk of a willow tree with a six-inch steel dart, a decidedly dangerous looking instrument.

The elves do not say anything beyond monosyllabic words, either to you or between themselves.  They are reminiscent of bloodhounds, latched onto a trail and excluding all outside distractions.

Malthas,

The chieftain considers your words.

"I do wrong," he says slowly, "In speaking of you and your Brethren - and your Kep-tan - as friends or lackeys of...of..._Inchin'dewah_*.  You - " he makes a sweeping motion with his arm, accomodating all in the boat, and presumably the rest of the crew of the CALYPSO'S GRACE - "Are a people after my own heart.  If your Kep-tan lives when we find him, I speak with him as equal, though the blood of my Brethren is on his hands."

Reiter,

Your mind still befuddled with laudanum, you have a vague impression of people - eight, or maybe four - emerging from the trees, although the trees in question waver in strangely contorted fashions, and their leaves gleam dully with colors not normally associated with trees.

The other impression you have is of a pair of oddly identical (or perhaps you're seeing double) figures wearing blue captain's greatcoats nudging you none too gently in the ribs.

You catch the words "Wake," "Useless," and "Grugach."  You also hear someone in the background speaking gibberish in smooth, musical tones.

(OOC:  Sorry that I haven't included you in the latest posts; I figured that, laudanum being a narcotic and an anesthetic, Reiter would be unconscious or at least in a barely coherent state for some time...Btw, the laudanum is imposing a -4 initiative penalty until it wears off, as well as an effective -2 to DEX and INT.  I'm roughly extrapolating the effects from Broadsides! chapter on pharmacopia and from my own off the top of my head knowledge about laudanum and opium.)

*Grugach curse word, probably meaning something along the lines of "diggers of clams" or some such.


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## dead_radish (Sep 13, 2003)

Malthas smiles.  "We would be honored, Heart-of-a-Thousand-Oaks.  And I am certain the Captain would not have acted as he did had he known your people."


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## Bob Aberton (Sep 14, 2003)

(OOC: BUMP.  I'm waiting for Malachi and/or Reiter and/or Jonah to respond before making the DM Post, for convenience's sake.)


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## Xael (Sep 14, 2003)

Jonah takes a deep breath and ansvers: "I'm called Jonah. The short version is that we were traveling to some plantations upriver but couldn't make it before nightfall and had to camp in the forest. At night we were _attacked by your people_. During the battle, two of our companions died, while two "Friends" fled with our raft, leaving us (Johan waves his hand towards the captain) in the forest. We've been trying to get out of here since."

Jonah waits for the ansver while continuing: "But it would be more appropriate if my captain took part in the conversation. I'll work as an interpreter."

Jonah slowly gets up and shortly informs the captain about what the elves said, also mentioning what he told them and that he'll work as an interpreter.


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## Tonguez (Sep 16, 2003)

Malachi grimaces when he sees the dart and moving towards the tree he checks to see if anything is untoward before he reaches up to pull it out.

Looking about he wonders what the meaning of the dart might be - is it a Grugach signal? The leaf and apparent lack of blood do not suggest it was used in aggression.

He looks over at the nearest of the Grugach assessing its reaction before moving on...


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## Bob Aberton (Sep 17, 2003)

Jonah,

The Captain mulls over your exchange with the elf.

"T' tell th' truth," he mutters, "Fine words never were me strong point...Let me see...alright.  Alright, tell this River Mind fellow thet we, ah, we sincerely regret any misunderstandin'.  Tell 'em thet we had no...no malicious intent, an' thet we hope we can...err...alleviate this unfortunate misunderstandin'.  Thet sounds pretty diplomatic, doesn't it?  Y' can elaborate on it, o' course.  Just try t' appear friendly and non-aggressive; if they get it in their minds t' be offended, our lives won't amount to a glass man o' war.  P'raps we can even work out some favorable agreement with them."

Malachi,

The Grugach appear as puzzled over the dart as you.  They examine it cautiously, with even a hint of disdain; it is clearly not one of their weapons.

Malthas,

The barest hint of a smile flashes across the chieftain's face, then he is impassive again.  He lapses into silence once more, and the boat crawls on upriver.


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## dead_radish (Sep 17, 2003)

Malthas does his best to emulate the Chieftan's impassive silence, but sadly, fails miserably.  He attempts to chat about things that come to mind as they sail, not prying, merely being friendly.


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## Bob Aberton (Sep 20, 2003)

(OOC:  Bit of BUMP, so someone else can respond before the DM post...Guess we've got Talk Like a Pirate Day covered here, eh, mateys?  )


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## Uriel (Sep 20, 2003)

Nico _sends_ his thoughts to Artimus, telling him to come back towards the River, so as to move more in line with the party.


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## Bob Aberton (Sep 21, 2003)

Malthas,

(OOC:  I assume that when you say "chat," you mean with the chieftain, right?  If not, ignore this post  )

Heart-of-Ten-Thousand-Oaks says little, choosing which questions to answer and outright ignoring others.  Even the answers he gives are, if not monosyllabic, hardly longer than one word.

You do, however, find out that Heart-of-Ten-Thousand-Oaks is the the headman of a clan, the _Inquinasett_*, who are members of a larger tribe which controls both sides of the river for 100 bow shots in either direction of your current position.  Beyond this description of his tribe's strength, you learn nothing else which might be useful to know.

*Inquinasset - Possibly something like "People of the River."  You notice that the prefix "In-" seems to denote anything relating to water, as in "Inchin'dewah" - Clam-diggers, and "Inquinasset" - People of the River.

Nicodemus,

Artimus complies with your instructions.

A short time later, however, you hear his somewhat incoherent chattering inside your skull.

"...found Number One Paw...and branch-mate...pointy ears talking to them, claws 'n' teeth piled up on the ground...more pointy ears in woods, not think Number One Paw know about them...tasty leaves in this place..."

By "Number One Paw," he probably means the captain, as he uses it as a name and not as an adjective to denote five of something, one of his more confusing habits.


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## Bob Aberton (Sep 24, 2003)

(OOC:  Ehh...guys...?  Where did everyone go?

How about this:  Everyone still active in the game, whether posting currently (Nicodemus, Malthas, Malachi, & Jonah) or residing in the background for now (Vemuz & Reiter) checks in as soon as possible.  Just make a quick post ensuring me that you're here and still interested in this game, even if you're not addressed in the previous DM Post.

Btw, just in case you have any criticism or comments or whatever on my DM style (perhaps it gets annoying when people get left in the background for a while, or what have you), feel free to state it here...)


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## Xael (Sep 24, 2003)

OOC: Oops, sorry. Tried to think someting more grand than: "Tell the elves what captain said.", and kinda forgot about the game.

IC: Jonah tells the elves what captain wanted (duhh  ), trying his best to work things out (he's no diplomat either).


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## dead_radish (Sep 24, 2003)

Hmmm.  I thought I had posted a response.  Well then.  (OOC: I'm quite enjoying the game, no worries there!  And Malthas was going to chat with the Cheiftan.)

Malthas eventually gives up on conversation with the Chief, and contents himself to watch the banks as they go by, making a mental map of the river, just in case.

He also checks on Malachai occasionally, calling out cheerful jibes to the half-orc as he travels alongside the boat.


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## kenjib (Sep 25, 2003)

ooc:  I like how it's going Bob, and I'm still here.


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## Tonguez (Sep 26, 2003)

Malachi looks up at the halfling when he first calls one of his offcolour jibes, he grins but ignores his little companion as he continues along the dart still held between thumb and forefinger

(ooc still here and happy - the boards playing up have kept things a bit confused but alls well as I can see it!)


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## Uriel (Sep 26, 2003)

Nico lights his pipe and puffs a few good puffs...


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## Bob Aberton (Sep 27, 2003)

Jonah,

The elf listens to your explanation.

"Very well, He-of-the-Red-Eyes.  You will surrender your weapons and submit to being bound.  We will then conduct you to our head-chieftain, to whom you will make...amends," he says coolly.

(OOC:  Listen check, please.)

Malachi,

An elf tracker runs up to you, interrupting your examination of the dart.

"Kep-tan," he says, in badly mangled Hullish.  "'Round bend.  Und'stand?"

He points to the next bend in the river.

(OOC:  Listen check, please.)

Malthas,

You see one of the trackers point around the next bend in the river.  You catch the words "Kep-tan" and "'Round bend."

(OOC:  Listen check, please.)

Vemuz and Nicodemus,

On the shore, one of the trackers appears to be trying to get a message across to Mr. Legba; he is gesturing at the next bend in the river.

(OOC: Listen checks, please.)


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## Uriel (Sep 27, 2003)

OoC:Listen roll 15+2= 17


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## Xael (Sep 27, 2003)

Jonah's mood drops as he hears the elf's not-so-friendly comment. He motions the elf to wait for a second and turns to speak with the captain: "They want us to surrender, bind us, and take us to their leader. Your orders, captain?", he sighs.

OOC: Listen 14 + 4 (-1?) = 17


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## Tonguez (Sep 27, 2003)

Looking up at the elfs words, Malachi is obviously glad to hear it
"safe?" he asks of the Grugach as he strains his eyes and ears forward willing them to see around the corner.

"Malhtas" he calls to the boat "Capitan close roun' dhe ben'!"

and with that the whatever reply comes from the grugach he begins a quick jog towards their goal...

(Listen 8+3 = 11)


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## dead_radish (Sep 27, 2003)

Malthas grins, and whistles a slight marching tune beneath his breath.  He checks his clothes quickly, to be sure he looks presentable, and turns to Heart---.  "The Captain is near, it seems.  You have kept your word, and I thank you.  Is there likely to be any danger from your people when they see us?"


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## Bob Aberton (Sep 28, 2003)

Malthas,

Heart---- frowns.

"Some danger, possibly.  Depend who it is found your Kep-tan.  Not all of my Brethren are as merciful as I.  Keep weapons out of sight, or there will be bloodshed; I must not look like captive, or they will try to rescue me."

Malachi,

The Grugach shrugs.

"Safe now," he says.  "Kep-tan talk to Mind-of-the-Mighty-River."

You can hear little beyond the rustling of brush and the ordinary noises of the river.

Nicodemus,

You can hear a faint noise of shouting drifting over the river.  It is clearly the captain's voice.

"...had enough of this Calypso-be-damned nonsense!  Bloody river, bloody mud, bloody forest, bloody stuck up savages wi' pointy ears!  I'm not a bleeding fool, if they want t' show me off to their chief like some damned-to-Davy-Jone's-Locker turkey for the slaughter, I sure as Davy Jone's Locker won't go bleeding quietly! ....wants a fight, he'll get one, by Calypso...tell him, Jonah, tell him we a'en't goin' t' give him our weapons, an' we sure as Oceanus' arse a'en't goin' t' be tied up like that many sides o' mutton..."

Jonah,

The captain stares at the elves for a long moment.  Suddenly, he slaps at a mosquito on his arm, and, as though this is the last straw, leaps up with a roar.

He hurls his hat to the ground in front of Mind---- with an air of challenge, rips off his coat, and rolls up his sleeves, fury apparent in every motion.  Despite his age, the strength of his arms is readily apparent as he curls his knotty, muscular hands into fists and brandishes said fists wildly as he pours out a torrent of abuse at the forest, the elves, the river, the elves, and the elves.

"Submit t' bein' bound?  Submit t' being _bound_?  The hell we will!  I've had enough of this Calypso-be-damned nonsense!  Bloody river!  Bloody mud!  Bloody forest!  Bloody stuck up savages wi' pointy ears!  I'm not a bleedin' fool, if they want t' show me off t' their chief like some damned-to-Davy-Jone's-Locker turkey for the slaughter, I sure as Davy Jone's Locker won't go bleeding quietly! Well, I'll say this, if this...this...prancing pointy-eared mother's boy wants a fight, he'll get one, by Calypso...tell him, Jonah, tell him we a'en't goin' t' give him our weapons, an' we sure as Oceanus' arse a'en't goin' t' be tied up like that many sides o' mutton.  You tell him we a'en't nothin' t' do with them Standishtowners, an' I'm sorry we killed some o' their kind - or I was, until this son of a b     opened his Calypso-be-damned mouth!..."

Indeed, he looks ready for a fight; eyes flashing and fists waving, he continues to call down every curse known to a sailor's vocabulary (and then some) upon anything that has anything remotely to do with Grugach.

The elves, upon seeing the captain leap up, reach for their weapons, except for Mind-of-the-Mighty-River, and now they face Captain McCrenshaw with bent bows.  This only incites the captain to further heights of fury.  He seems only vaguely aware of his surroundings as he gives vent to two days worth of frustrations - the hunger, the thirst, the lack of sleep, and of course, being hunted like foxes through incredibly inhospitable terrain.

"Weapons, is it?" he cries, upon seeing the Grugach leap up with bent bows.  "Not elf enough to face me barehanded, eh?  Takes six armed pointy-ears t' do away wi' one old man, eh?  Have at ye!  I'll give you, an' you, an' you - I'll give all o' you a taste o' blood an' vinegar, arrows or no!"  He says, waving his fists in the faces of all the elves in turn.

Over the captain's continued shouting, however, you catch a noise infinitely more hope-inspiring that the captain's continued provocation of the murderous looking elves; you hear the splash of oars, and the distinctive voice of a halfling shouting an off-color joke about the habits of Standishtown serving-women.  You recognize the voice as Mr. Swifthand, the halfling quartermaster of the CALYPSO'S GRACE.  It would seem he is just around the bend in the river.

Now if only you can keep yourself and the captain alive until then...


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## kenjib (Sep 28, 2003)

Listen check:  9 + 2 = 11


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## Xael (Sep 28, 2003)

Jonah's face turns to grin as the captain starts his protest, and he _almost_ turns around and tells the elves plainly that they refuse, but then a wind carries other voices to his ears, and his grin disappears and changes into surprise. Thoughts bouncing in his head, he raises his hand again, this time to get the captain to wait for a few seconds, and turns his head to talk to the elf leader: "My captain doesn't think that your demands are reasonable, but he is an old man with a quick temper. I can probably calm him down if your men put down their weapons, _as they shouldn't have touched them in the first place_. 

He then turns back to the captain, not bothering to wait for the elves to respond: "I agree with you captain, but I think I heard something coming this way that's on our side. If you would try to buy us some time by pretendind to calm down, we might not have to take these elves by ourselves. 

He then waits and silently prays he heard right.


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## Uriel (Sep 29, 2003)

Nico _sends_ to Artimus, indicating the direction of the voices  'Go and get to the Captain, or at least find out where he is, we'll be along.'

Nicodemus casts _Locate Object_, focusing on the confro the captain that he had studied those many days ago...


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## dead_radish (Sep 29, 2003)

Malthas nods to Heart---.  "Understood."  Tuanna is sheathed, but he checks over the rest of the crew quickly.  "Belay weapons, lads.  We dunnae want to start up another staring match.  The Captain is just ahead."

Listen check was 14, so if he hears the captain's voice, he'll call that out in a loudish voice, attempting to carry to them.


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## kenjib (Sep 29, 2003)

Vemuz leaves his axes and bow holstered as he begins to bring the boat in closer to the shore.


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## Bob Aberton (Sep 30, 2003)

Jonah,

The captain, halted in mid-tirade, pauses for a moment, cocking one ear towards the river bend in what he obviously considers an inconspicuous manner.  He takes several choking breaths, swallowing his rage, and unclenches his fists.

"I...might've been at bit hasty there," he says slowly, sitting back down and replacing his hat on his head.  "Let's see if we can' work out some more agreeable arrangement."

The elves, upon seeing the captain calm down, also relax, pointing their bows to the ground but keeping them close at hand.

Silence reigns for a long moment...the captain's fit of temper seems to have masked the noise of the approaching longboat, as you can hear little more than the ordinary river sounds now - the boat crew must have heard the captain's shouting as well.

Malthas,

With varying degrees of reluctance, the boat crew sheathes their various weapons.  The two seamen unmount the swivel gun from the bow and hide it in the bottom of the boat.

At the same time, you can hear a confused mutter of voices, at least one of which is speaking in Hullish, and rather angrily at that.

Heart---- goes forward and stands proudly in the bow of the longboat, clearly showing that he is a passenger and not a captive.

Vemuz,

The sailors, appreciating the need for an inconspicuous approach, row more and more slowly, muffling their oarlocks with their shirts and dipping the blades of their oars as carefully as though they were made of eggshells.

The boat glides gently around the bend.

Nicodemus,

As you finish casting the spell, you can see the coin shining like a lighthouse beacon inside your head; the Captain is just around the next bend, and very near the shore.

Artimus, meanwhile, confirms this in a circumspect way;

"Cap-tan is just 'round bend...pointy-ears talking to him...Cap-tan angry, Master...his back to the river..."

(OOC All:  I'm going to need initiative from everyone, just in case; this includes Reiter [if he's still here] and Malachi, even though they're not addressed in this particular post.)


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## Tonguez (Sep 30, 2003)

(Init? I thought we was all friends oh well 13 +5 = 18)

Malachi keeps moving at a firm and steady pace, his body alert for the first sign of the captain and any Grugach that might be with him...


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## dead_radish (Sep 30, 2003)

OOC: Init 6+

Malthas nods, and takes up a place just behind the Chief.  He has little doubt that, should the need arise, he can draw


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## dead_radish (Sep 30, 2003)

OOC: Init = 6+4=10

Malthas nods, and takes a place just behind the Chieftan, confident he could have Tuanna in hand if need be.  He keeps his eyes open for  anything untoward, and crosses his fingers, hoping things will go well.


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## kenjib (Sep 30, 2003)

initiative:  5 + 2 = 7

"That's it boys.  Nice and easy as we bring her 'round."  Vemuz sits in a relaxed manner, trying to look unthreatening (but not very successfully).


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## Uriel (Sep 30, 2003)

OoC:Hehe, I just realized that dead_radish's Icon looks like my familiar...

Initiative? Dirty Backstabbing Elves...

Nicodemus:'20' +6=26 (take that! I usually roll crap.Funny, I almosy prefer the
DM do the rolling, thinking folks would be 'sure you rolled a 20...'Anyways.)
Artimis rolled a '1' for a total of 3.

<Nicodemus 26,Artimus 3>


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## Xael (Oct 1, 2003)

Jonah tries to buy time by chatting with the captain with calm voice and pretending to be still calming him down.

OOC: Initiative 12 + 3 = 15 (-1?)


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## Bob Aberton (Oct 2, 2003)

Jonah,

You and the captain are still stalling for time when the splash of oars is audible once more; the longboat rounds the bend and glides toward the shore.  An elf, dressed like the others in furs and leather stands at the prow of the boat.  Unlike the other elves, this one wears a gold torc around his neck; he seems to be a chieftain of some sort.

The Grugach don't know what to make of this; half raise their bows, while the other half looks at Mind-of-the-Mighty-River for direction.  Mind---- stands stiffly, apparently ill at ease.

"Brethren!" he calls, raising both arms in a placating gesture.  "Lower you weapons!  I have promised these Men of the Sea safe passage in our lands."

There is an angry murmuring among the elves at hearing this.   Mind---- speaks up at last:

"Promises extorted by violence are worthless.  Shall we dispose of these clam-diggers, O Heart-of-Ten-Thousand-Oaks, Light of our Brethren?"

"You shall not," replies Heart-of-Ten-Thousand-Oaks.  "These are not clam diggers; they are men who follow the sea.  They are led by an orcish freed-man, and they have parlayed with me honestly.  It is my judgement that they be allowed safe passage.  They have no part in our quarrel with the clamdiggers."

The Captain turns to you.

"Jonah," he says in an undertone.  "It 'pears Calypso's been smilin' on us again."

(OOC: Yes, the -1 penalty still applies as of now.)

Nicodemus,

The boat glides in towards shore, grounding with a squelch in the muddy bottom a few feet from the shore.  Before the Grugach on the shore can react, the chieftain waves his arms in a placating gesture.

Brethren!" he calls, raising both arms in a placating gesture.  "Lower you weapons!  I have promised these Men of the Sea safe passage in our lands."

There is an angry murmuring among the elves at hearing this.   One of the Grugach, a lieutenant of some sort, speaks up at last:

"Promises extorted by violence are worthless.  Shall we dispose of these clam-diggers, O Heart-of-Ten-Thousand-Oaks, Light of our Brethren?"

"You shall not," replies Heart-of-Ten-Thousand-Oaks.  "These are not clam diggers; they are men who follow the sea.  They are led by an orcish freed-man, and they have parlayed with me honestly.  It is my judgement that they be allowed safe passage.  They have no part in our quarrel with the clamdiggers."

Malthas, Malachi, Vemuz,

The longboat grounds to a slow halt in the muddy bottom a few feet from the shore.  The chieftain is standing proudly in the bows; the Grugach on shore do not seem to know what to make of this; some raise their bows, others look to one of their fellows for guidance.

Heart---- waves his arms in a placating gesture and addresses the Grugach on the river bank, six of them that you can see.  He makes a short speech in Elven, which seems to upset some of the Grugach; there is angry muttering among the shore crowd.  One of the elves on the shore, apparently a lieutenant or spokeself of some kind, speaks up.  Though you cannot understand his words, his tone appears to bear some malice toward you.  The elf chieftain replies in a stern tone.

Mr. Arfaliunium seems to understand what the elves are saying, however.

The Captain and Jonah are standing to one side of the crowd of Grugach, trying to look inconspicuous.  Both appear considerably the worse for wear.

(OOC All:  Due to the situation, once you post your actions/dialogue, they will occur in order of intiative [so if Malachi posts dialogue before Nicodemus, for example, Nicodemus will speak first in the DM Post].  So basically, I'm not using initiative & the combat round system for combat as of right now, I'm just using it to see who gets the first word in, so to speak.)


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## dead_radish (Oct 2, 2003)

Malthas calls out "Did you need a ride, Captain?"  He's obviously quite proud of himself (and the others, of course), and grins widely as he stands just behind and beside the Chieftan.


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## Tonguez (Oct 2, 2003)

Viewing the exchange between the Elf Chieftain and what seems to be his Leiutenant Malachi moves forward with a mix of faith, defiance and courage.

He stands tall and proud before the Grugach, his spear still held at rest in his hand, and trusts in Calypso that the chieftain in the longboat can control his people and that the Captain can be recovered unscathed...


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## Bob Aberton (Oct 3, 2003)

(OOC All:  This is a BUMP.  I'm going to wait at least for Nicodemus to post before putting in the DM Post.)


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## Uriel (Oct 3, 2003)

OoC:Sorry Bob.

IC:Nico keeps his voice low as he explains what is transpiring 'The Chief here has said that we are friends, and that young Buck there doe'nt like it one bit. He's spitting fire an' callin us all manner o' arm twisters, thinkin we'es put the muscle on the Chief. The Chief says fer him ta calm daow'n, as he is friends, an not them lilly-livered backstabbers from the town. The buck seems ta listen ta this an he's calmin' doaw'n now.' Sighting the captain, Nicodemus yells out 'I say, Cap'n, we missed you at tea, an we thought we'd come an have a look fer ya!'

Nico grins and reaches out an arm, keeping it rock still as Artimus leaps from an overhanging treebranck and lands upon it. Scampering up to sit on Nico's shoulder, Arti doffs his hat at the Captain and gives an incredibly loud _howl_ in happiness as having found the Captain all by himself (at least _he_ thinks that he found the Captain...).


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## Bob Aberton (Oct 4, 2003)

Malthas,

"A ride would be welcome, Mr. Swifthand," the Captain calls back.  "Seein' as I'm already late fer tea with Mr. Arfaliunium!"

He wades through the river and climbs into the boat.

"We'd better be leavin' soon's we can an' still be polite," he says.  "I've no idea how prone these Grugach are t' changin' their minds, an' I've no desire t' find out."

Nicodemus & Jonah,

The chief's lieutenant is clearly upset.  

"O Light of our Brethren," he begins deferentially.  "Is this wise?  These men..."

"...are not part of our quarrel with the clam-diggers, for all that they are from Across the Sea," the chief finishes.  "It is my judgement that they be allowed safe passage.  Do you question my judgement?"

Faced with a clear challenge, the lieutenant is forced to back down.

"I would not dream of questioning your judgement, O Light of our Brethren," he replies, with just a hint of exasperation.

"Your chance for glory in battle will come later," the chief says, softening his chastisement.  "But there is no glory in the slaughter of innocent bystanders.  These men follow the sea, and only the winds of chance have brought them here.  Your arrows will taste blood, my Right Hand, but it will be the blood of clamdiggers."

The chieftain knows how to handle his men.  Though his lieutenant remains put-out, he offers no more direct challenge to his leader's decision.

Malachi,

The elven chieftain appears to have handled the situation admirably.  His lieutenant leaves off his arguments, and appears to acquiesce to his chief's judgement, though his expression remains sullen.

The Grugach, too, seem to have been impressed by your bearing; none offer any sort of challenge to you, instead giving way a few steps in deference when you move forward.

Meanwhile, the Captain & Jonah wade into the river, attempting to be inconspicuous, and climb into the boat.

"I owe you a great deal, Mr. Legba," the Captain says, extending his hand as he passes by.  "I can't get out of this place soon enough t' suit me."

All,

At long last, after yet another conversation upon which your lives quite possibly hinge, the elven chieftain, Heart-of-Ten-Thousand-Oaks mounts the riverbank and turns to you with his arms spread wide.  

"I have fulfill my promise to you men of the Sea," he says.  "Your Kep-tan is safe, and you have safe passage back to Standishtown.  Now you go back to the clamdigger's town, and you tell them, you tell them that our word is as good as theirs.  You tell the clamdiggers that we Brethren have as much honor as any round-ears.  

Fare you well, men of the Sea.  Perhaps we meet again in happier times, but I think not.  Our sun is fading, and the light of the Men-From-Across-The-Sea is a bleak dawn to our eyes."

As the boat rounds the bend, back downriver towards Standishtown once more, you hear the chieftain's voice follow you:

"Tell them we Brethren are an honorable people..."

(OOC All:  Now, how's that for some satisfactory closure to this chapter, eh?  )


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## kenjib (Oct 4, 2003)

As the chieftain finishes his speech, Vemuz turns to him and claps him firmly on both shoulders with his hands as he grins with a deep chuckle.  "Your people do not have as much honor as the people Standishtown, great chieftain.  No.  That would be an insult to you and your kin.  The beggars and scavengers of Standishtown are scarce men at all next to one such as you.  How can one compare a man of cities to a man who carves his destiny from the wild places of the world?  You would have been a great man among my people, the Swordfishers, and we do not say such things lightly."  Vemuz' own wild, untamed heart seems to blaze forth in an unusual show of warmth toward this savage elf chieftain.  As he looks into the chieftain's eyes he sees his own reflection.

Vemuz reaches behind his ear and pulls a feather from one of his hairpins.  It is a bright, flame red tapering toward a rich orange at the tip.  "This is from my homeland.  It has kept me well.  I hope that it will keep you as well.  May the blood of your enemies ever wash away the blood of your fallen kin."


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## Uriel (Oct 4, 2003)

Clearing his throat, Nicodemus addresses the assembed Grugach in slightly accented _Elvish_ ' Noble People of the Wood, I would tell you a bit of the World. Yes, Noble, I said, fer each and every one of you is a far more Noble person than the greatest of those living in Standishtown and passing judgement upon all who are not as they. Many towns and cities have I seen in my travels, with folk both good and bad,noble and craven. Our first night in Standishtown, the place looked friendly and welcoming. Soon thereafter, we found ourselves the target of anger and combat, simply because we were not of their folk. When we met you good elves of the wood, we found ourselves faced with arrows and combat, only to have you decide to treat us with civility and fairness in the end. Of the two, I'll take the latter, as you have shown yourselves honorable far beyond any diggers-of-clams.'
Nico bows low (as does Artimus, doffing his cap), then turns and boards the boat.


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## Tonguez (Oct 5, 2003)

Taking up his place in the boat and accepting the successful outcome of this adventure Malachi looks both back into the woods and the Grugach standing there and also down river to where Standishtown might lie.

The proud bearing of the Chieftain, and that determined face of the Captain merge with images of his own mother -the old Witch- and these contrast with the sullen downcast faces of the Orcish slaves in Standishtown

"Ah feel a bad win' blowin' capitan" he says as they move out "fer dhems-here' elfs an' fer us all.

Dher wos ships speedin sout' wit' half-empty hulls w'en we left dhe town, an tis plan dhem Elfs is goin t'battle. Only hope dhe Lady Calypso got som blessin fer dhem elfs so dhey don't ge' trod down lik' my orc people dun"


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## dead_radish (Oct 5, 2003)

Malthas sighs, and shakes his head.  "Ah, a boat full of dipolomats."  He grins at everyone, taking any sting out of his words.  To the captain, he nods.  "Your orders, sir?  We've got a few kegs of rum on board, if I recall right - I believe we'd best get this sorry substitute back home, and have ourselves a serious drink in celebration."


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## Xael (Oct 5, 2003)

Jonah waves farewell to the chiefain and falls to sitting position on the deck/whatever, removing his backpack from his glove and replacing it with his pistol. He proceeds to dump the rest of the weapons he carries to the deck.

He waits silently, happy about their rescue, but too exhausted to take part in the conversation unless somebody asks him something first.


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## Bob Aberton (Oct 6, 2003)

Vemuz,

As the longboat speeds downriver with your hand on the tiller, you think back to the chieftain's reply to your parting words;

"Truly," he says, with great respect evident in his words.  "Truly, you are my Brethren in spirit if not in body."  He places the feather in his headdress, the plume curving high above his forehead.  "This is rare plume; a fitting adornment for one such as you.  You are rare man, Swordfisher.  Had I a hundred like you the clamdiggers would curse these shores for a thousand generations.  I place your gift above all my other feathers; always will this feather go before me and guide me in battle.  And for your generosity, I give you something of my own."

He removed a fine rich wolfskin from his shoulders, and draped it over yours.

"This is pelt of a Great-wolf, direct descendent of the First Wolves, first children of He-Who-Wrought-The-Mountains.  It has ornamented my shoulders since I was first made chief, it graced the shoulders of my father and his father before him.  May your arrows never miss and those of your enemies never hit."  

Malachi,

"Aye, Mr. Legba.  These Grugach won' strike their colors wi'out a hell of a fight,  couldn't ask fer better fighters, an' I hear they've got magics thet make all the Universities in the Middle Lands seem like a bunch o' berobed charlatans, an' they'll make th' Stan - the clamdiggers - curse their mothers for bearin' 'em, but it strikes me thet their battle was decided th' moment we round-ears set foot on these shores.  Us round-ears're like dry rot in th' floor timbers, sometimes, ruinin' whatever we touch...Never th' less, if the Lady wills, then they still have hope.  I know I'll be sayin' a prayer for them this night.

If y' ask me, them ships what left half-empty were the smart ones.  I tell y', I'd give an arm an' a leg t' be on the old GRACE right now, outward bound from this hellhole.  I don't want t' be within a hundred miles o' Standishtown when the shootin' starts, though I can't say I'll spare many tears for them slave-tradin' cravens of clamdiggers."

He settles down to smoke his pipe, but he is clearly impatient to be back to his ship, every few moments whipping out his spyglass and checking and rechecking Malthas' map of the river.

Malthas,

The captain, who had been fidgeting impatiently with his pipe and peering ahead at the river constantly, brightens up at the mention of the rum.

"Don't want t' set a bad example," he says.  "But these sort of misadventures make a man thirsty.  Permission granted t' splice th' main brace, Mr. Swifthand; let's have a tot o' rum all 'round.  In lieu of a proper celebration on shore, o' course.  But let's have no brawlin' this time, eh?"

The hands, naturally, recieve this message with raucous cheers.

Nicodemus,

Sitting in the longboat skimming downriver, you think back to your own speech to the Grugach, and its reception.

The Grugach had been a most receptive audience, and they had given a hearty cheer in your honor when you finished your speech.  Indeed, when they bid you their own farewell, they said to you;

"What you lack in stature, O noble Mage, you more than recoup in wisdom and judgement.  May your mind always be clear and may your tongue never falter."


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## Bob Aberton (Oct 8, 2003)

All,

The return to civilization, after your brief foray into the heart of Standishtown's darkness, is startling.  At first, the trees and rushes of the riverbank are the only thing that greets the eye, and the birdsong is the only thing that anwers the splashing of the oars.

The first sign of civilization is a fence, or rather a stone wall, built without mortar, running alongside the river seemingly at random.  After your journey into the wilderness, this sudden sign of civilization is jarring, almost absurd.  The fence is already draped in greenery and covered with moss, already being reclaimed by the hostile forest.  

The next sight you see is a keg raft, a barge made of lashed-together kegs, bound upriver, where it will be filled at the plantations and floated downriver again.  Its boatmen nearly drop their quants, turning and staring at you until you round the next bend and they pass out of sight.

Their conversation follows you, though;

"Did'ja see thet?  Weren't they the ones what the pointy-ears killed?"  "P'raps they're ghosts, mate..."

Soon enough, you are once again among the familiar taverns, inns, and counting-houses of Standishtown.  Then you are down among the wharves and the great bulk of the CALYPSO'S GRACE looms up alongside.  It's good to be home.

"Mates," the Captain says, standing in the bow and turning to face you all.  "I would say some celebration is in order, eh?  I'd get my shore-goin' rigs on if I were you; drinks are on me at th' 'White Horse Inn' t'night."

Mr. Lang is the first to greet you as the longboat is hoisted aboard.  In a rare show of humanity, he mops his brow in relief upon seeing you aboard safe and sound.

"Captain," he says, shaking first the Captain's hand, then everyone else's.  "Thank Calypso, Oceanus, and Davy Jones that you are safe.  Mr. Legba, Mr. Swifthand, Mr. Thriceborn, Mr. Arfaliunium, Sanchez, Stout; well done, all of you.  I fear I did suffer some anxiety as to the likelihood of your return." For a moment, the Navy man in him rises to the surface, as you can see a quick flash of fighting-eagerness in his eyes.  "It must have been wet work, fighting your way back."

"Sorry t' disappoint y', Mr. Lang," the Captain replies drily.  "But we managed t' keep the ground mostly clean of blood - ours or theirs, though we lost a Standishtowner and a new hand.  We neogotiated our way back, y' see.  'S a long story.  Why don't y' get y'r shore-goin' rig, Mr. Lang, we're headed t' th' 'White Horse Inn' for some well-deserved celebration."

The Captain makes a cursory inspection of the ship, then he and Mr. Lang go below, to get out their shore-going clothes.  From what you've heard of the 'White Horse,' it's a higher class of tavern, with none of the clamdigging riffraff you encountered you first night ashore here.


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## kenjib (Oct 10, 2003)

Thoughts of his home turn over and over in Vemuz' mind.  First the map from the Black Mast (the image of which was still imprinted in his mind as a hole burnt through his soul), and now the wild elves, calling him back to the place where it all began.  The thought of a night spent in a stuffy building filled with men restrained by the dull gray shackles of civilization fills him with dread.

"If you don't mind, captain, I think I'll stay aboardship tonight."  He plans to stare at the stars tonight.  The stars under which also lie his home and his people.  The stars which have guided him half way around the world and, gods willing, back again.


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## dead_radish (Oct 11, 2003)

Malthas grins widely.  "Aye, captain, I think we can manage to celebrate without too much breakage this time."  He winks, and scampers down to find his finest clothes, though he is certain that they are likely out of style at this point.  But hopefully there will be something he can pick up in town.  He dresses quickly, and heads back to the town quick to try to find something a bit more updated....


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## Uriel (Oct 12, 2003)

With Artimus hooting a greeting as the Calypso's Grace comes into view, Nico smiles warmy at Mr. Lang ' Well then, I told ye we'd bring em back, Mr. Lang. When I told the Captain he'd missed _tea_, he right near rowed that boat here himself in perturbance. Artimus (clearly annoyed at not being included in the list of Heroes), doffs his cap to Mr. Lang _naval style_ (he having taken to observing the Officer and emulating hismoves while prancing among the rigging, entertaining the crew) and then scampers belowdecks.

Nico wipes his brow with water from a nearby bucket and says 
'Well, I for one wouldn't mind a spot of the good stuff. Lead on Cap'n.'


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## Tonguez (Oct 12, 2003)

"Due respec' sair" the Half-Orc says in a quiet tone "Ah'll be stayin b'hin' wit dhe T'riceborn." he nods towards the Swordfisher happy that at least one other will be staying aboard 

"Ah'd not be spoilin' yer night by me bein dhere, an' in dhis toun ah don' feel too welcum."


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## Bob Aberton (Oct 13, 2003)

Malachi,

"Y'r sure, Mr. Legba?  Y' saved my life, y' know.  It doesn't sit right thet y've got t' stay on the ship for fear o' clamdiggers," the Captain says.  But he sees that there will be no moving you from your decision, and quickly gives up his attempts at persuasion.  

"I owe y' my life, though, an' that isn' something thet Roger T. McCrenshaw forgets easily, you mind thet,"  he says by way of a parting shot.  "I'll pay y' back somehow."

Malthas, Nicodemus, & Anyone Else who Followed the Captain,

The "White Horse Inn" is indeed a cut above the rest, and certainly many cuts above the tavern where you brawled with the Standishtowners.  The customers are mostly sea captains and ships officers, with the odd merchant and supercargo scattered in the crowd.  The drink here is no throat-stripping Standishtown rum, but Iberrean wine and Esfordshire brandy from Hull with a velvet finish.  The serving girls are none of the easy and seedy lot found in most seaport taverns, but are clean, well dressed, and range from mildly pretty to quite beautiful.

"Well, gen'lemen," Captain McCrenshaw says, raising his glass (he seems to prefer Standishtown rum to the best Iberrean wine or Esfordshire brandy), "here's to survivin', an' a fair wind t' speed us out o' this place.  May Calypso never let th' seas get rougher than the drink in y'r glasses."

Vemuz,

You sit back and relax as the Captain and those of the crew who felt celebratory follow him.

The CALYPSO'S GRACE is well into the lazy evening dogwatch; what men are not on shore are lounging on the foredeck, smoking their pipes, or skylarking in the rigging.

Mr. Ames, the second mate, stayed with the ship, and he greets you on his way to the chartroom.

"Top o' the evening, Mr. Thriceborn," he says cheerfully.  "I hear tell it's up anchor and off soundings tomorrow; Mr. Lang filled the holds while you were skylarking in the woods.  There'll be some new hands - clamdiggers probably - that'll need breaking in, I suppose."

Lupe Sanchez, who had gone with the longboat upstream, is sitting on the capstan head, idly flipping a knife into the air; it is the same knife you saw once before, when you pulled him from the sea.  It is the knife with BLACK MAST engraved into the hilt.  Sanchez shoots a glance at you and you lock gazes for a brief moment.


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## Bob Aberton (Oct 14, 2003)

(OOC All:  BUMP.  I'd like it if things could be speeded up a bit and we could start the next segment of the voyage, seeing as we're almost there...)


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## Uriel (Oct 14, 2003)

Nico happily drinks with the Captain until the wee hours of the morning, though he wants aboard ship and away from this backwater town as soon as possible.

OoC:I'm ready to be off...


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## kenjib (Oct 14, 2003)

"Evening Mr. Ames.  I have them up and running with the crew easy, but they had better not cause any trouble like the rest of their folk back in town."

As Vemuz locks eyes briefly with Lupe he grins to break the awkward silence.  He remembers brief snippets of overheard conversation during his stay in the courts of Espirante - the words of the celebrated bard Don Pedrillo.

"Locked in heavenly shift,
They trace wide arcs through the sky.
The gods watch, five thousand eyes.
What many wonders do they see
That the pride of man will never know?"

"I am not one for books, but what strange things you hear in the tall, white, houses of Espirante, eh?"  He begins to whistle a haunting tune and continues his walk, looking back up at the clear star-filled sky - it is an old battle dirge he picked up during his inland mercenary days.  As he whistles a brief, chill, wind picks up and he pulls the great wolf fur close around his shoulders.


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## Tonguez (Oct 14, 2003)

Malachi says nothing at the captains parting compliment, he simply stands and watches as the others in their dandies make their way up to the White House.

He turns as they are lost from sight and sees a couple of Orcish slaves hauling goods to and from the other ships, it is a stark reminder to the Half-Orc who would be navigator, and he stays watching for some minutes.


He hears the voice of his mother telling him of the history of the Orcs and admonishing him to stand tall when the time comes
"_Taem longgowae pikifala stap pepol belongyu pik'ni. Pikifala strong belongdhem, bodo'n peopl dhem nanbelongyu...
Taruu tumas taem kum nanlong efi mon sae frii un ikwol livin belongdhem, Pepol belongyu agen dhem pikifalastaplong. Yudhem sae pikifalastaplong tu!_"

"Perhaps" he muses as his mind once more turns to the Grugach preparing for war in the forests "Perhaps the time is now!"


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## dead_radish (Oct 14, 2003)

Naturally, Malthas will celebrate with the rest of them in his new (hopefully) duds.  He will likely arrive aboardships at about a quarter after sunup, scampering on board to make it *just* before he's late enough to be berated, but late enough that it's noticable.  And then he will be ready to sail the briny seas!


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## dead_radish (Oct 14, 2003)

Naturally, Malthas will celebrate with the rest of them in his new (hopefully) duds.  He will likely arrive aboardships at about a quarter after sunup, scampering on board to make it *just* before he's late enough to be berated, but late enough that it's noticable.  And then he will be ready to sail the briny seas!


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## kenjib (Oct 14, 2003)

Vemuz sees Malachi watching the slaves loading the ships.  "They would make good tars on our ship, eh?  Probably do the work of two men each, and they'd have good morale with their freedom won too I'd wager."  He drops the comment almost casually as he continues his walk right past the half-orc.


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## Bob Aberton (Oct 15, 2003)

(OOC All:  If you don't mind, I'd like to let Malachi make his reply to Vemuz's post before I make the next DM Post, for continuity's sake.  Hope you don't mind the slight delay...)


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## Tonguez (Oct 15, 2003)

kenjib said:
			
		

> Vemuz sees Malachi watching the slaves loading the ships.  "They would make good tars on our ship, eh?  Probably do the work of two men each, and they'd have good morale with their freedom won too I'd wager."  He drops the comment almost casually as he continues his walk right past the half-orc.




'_Freedom won_' the Swordfishers words resonate within the half-orcs mind and broken from his revel he looks hard at Vemuz' the semblance of an idea beginning to form. As an Officer and a Navigator the half-orc has a fair stash of coin, and with nothin' better to use it on he may as well start investing in freedom

"How much yol be willin t' wager swardfishar?" Malachi asks "Ah'll be matchin yol wager an' we'll be goin do'n now an' gettin dhem freedom - winnin' or buyin' tis all sem to me..."


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## kenjib (Oct 15, 2003)

Vemuz stops walking and turns around to face Malachi again.  "I've more axes than gold, but I'll give what I've got if you have a plan.  I don't want to sail out tomorrow with clamdiggers aboard, Malachi.  I don't know who the new hands that Mr. Lang hired are going to be, and I don't really want to.  It wouldn't be good for morale to have them around with the bad blood spilt the other night.  Maybe if we get better replacements we can have a talk with him."

Vemuz steps in closely and makes sure that nobody can overhear him.  "We both know the elves are coming to Standishtown.  It's probably not tonight, but if it is I can tell you that there might be more than just elves out there."  He discretely places four gold coins on the ships rail and looks out over the side of the ship, as if they were simply discussing tomorrow's weather.


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## Tonguez (Oct 17, 2003)

"Plan?" Malachi looked back down at the Orcs and then to the coins laid out on the rail. He realised that he didn't really have a plan - except to go down there find whoever was forcing these people to work and make him release them.

Was that a viable plan? He grimaced, did it matter - what the Swordfisher said was true and he was feeling a call to act.

"Ah'm goen' daon dhere naw, swordfishar" he answered Vemuz "get dhem free, be good t'ing hav good mon at me back"


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## Bob Aberton (Oct 17, 2003)

(OOC Malachi & Vemuz:  Just interjecting here, please continue your dialogue...)

Malachi,

As you watch the Orcs trundle back and forth from the CHRISTOPHER WILLS with boxes of assorted goods and bales of tobacco, you become aware that they are watching you.

Or rather, they are sneaking glances at you; while trying not to be too obvious, one of them points at you and mutters something to his fellow.

After a long moment, one of them picks up a box, and shooting cautious glances in all directions, trundles in the general direction of the GRACE's side of the pier.  He looks at you almost wonderingly.

"Is you a slave too?" he asks quietly.  Then, he realizes what you are wearing - the garments of, not only a freeman, but an officer to boot.  He seems hardly able to believe it.  "Or is you free man?"


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## Tonguez (Oct 17, 2003)

"Ah a free man" Malachi answers with pride "born free like dhe win' in dhe sheets. An' ah dhe Navigator!.

Ah wont you free too" he continues coming down to the other orcs side. He looks at the other orc with intensity seeing before him a brother like he has never known before 

"Our pepol is a strong pepol" he says it like a mantra "free and ikwol. We aint be slaves no more! 

You kom t' dhis ship, work en dhe crew, we go far way - you be free like any mon shoul' be."


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## Uriel (Oct 17, 2003)

Artimus walks on all fours along the railing, getting close to the Navigator, observing the conversation. Curiously studying the Orcs he tosses down to the docks at the feet of the Orcs Nico's last box of cinnamon cookies, after pulling a few out for himself(damn him!)  .
Then, doffing his cap and bowing at them, he resumes eating _his_ sweets...


OoC:


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## kenjib (Oct 17, 2003)

Vemuz pulls Malachi aside and speaks to him quietly.  "I'm here by your side, but we don't leave until morning, so we might not want to start trouble yet.  There's too much time yet for the town to come down on the ship.  If him and a few others can work their way aboard ship at daybreak before we leave, however, maybe we can convince Mr. Lang to leave the clamdiggers behind and smuggle them out instead.

"Perhaps it would be best if we told him that we won their freedom gambling, though.  Mr. Lang seems a bit of a stickler, eh?  I can have a word with him down at the Inn if you'd like."


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## dead_radish (Oct 17, 2003)

OOC: Is this the next day, or is this the time we're out drinkin'?)


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## Bob Aberton (Oct 18, 2003)

Jonah & Malthas,

(OOC:  This is late at night, probably around 11 o'clock.  Nicodemus has already returned, but the Captain is still at the tavern, as is Mr. Lang.  You make the decision whether you stay at the tavern or return to the ship.)

It is dark outside by now, and the others are deep into their cups - all except Mr. Lang, that is.  He never seemed like the drinking type to you, and his behavior confirms your suspicions; he sits at the table, making at least an attempt at polite conversation, while having consumed only two glasses of Languedoui wine (an Iberrean wine).

The Captain, in direct contrast, has drunk so many tumblers of rum that you have lost count; while sober and reasonable at sea, the habits of a foremast hand never seemed to be far from apparent in him.  His face is a brilliant red, and he is becoming loud and bombastic (although that is no different really from the other patrons of the establishment.).

"Damn' clamdiggers!" he roars, slamming down another glass.  "We'll be out o' here soon enough - clam diggin' cowards an' murderin' pointy-ears...place is a hell hole, wouldn't wish it on...wouldn't wish it on an Iberrean, s'elp me!"

Mr. Lang leans over and suggest quietly that the Captain make this his last rum.

"Last rum?  Damn your eyes, Mr. Lang, I've barely begun!  Don't like t'see a man drink, eh?  What do you know 'bout drink...wha'do you know 'bout livin', eh?  Sittin' there, drinkin' y'r Calypso-be-damned Iberrean wine, like some lady...look more like an officer's wife than an officer, le'me tell y'!  What'd you...swap y'r petticoats for epaulettes, did y'?  Damn y'r eyes, stop houndin' me!  You drink y'r damned-t'-Davy-Jones lady's wine, an' I'll drink my rum, eh?"

The Captain seems to be focusing the frustrations of his stay in Standishtown on his rum glasses, gulping down one after the other at incredible speed.  Mr. Lang gives you a helpless look, then shoots an exasperated glance at the Captain, checking his pocket-watch significantly.

Malachi,

The soon-to-be-former slaves look up at you with something like profound awe.  The word "free" is talked over excitedly.  

"Yass," one of them says quickly.  "We join dis ship, we wan' be free like you.  You want we should com' 'board now?  You want we should tell others?"

Artimus, Mr. Arfaliunium's pet monkey, is standing on the rail a few feet away, and he throws down a box of cookies at the orc's feet and bows.  The orcs quickly divide up the cookies, hide them away in their ragged garments, and dispose of the box.

Vemuz (assuming you go to the tavern to have a word with Mr. Lang.  If not, disregard this.),

You find Malthas, Jonah, the Captain, and Mr. Lang in the "White Horse Inn."  Mr. Lang is his customary contained self, but the Captain seems to be trying to break some sort of record for drunkenness.  At least 10 empty tumblers formerly full of rum lie on the table in front of him, and one resides in his left hand while the other makes its way to his mouth.  His coherence, given the situation, is admirable, but he is becoming loud and bombastic; you can hear him berating Mr. Lang all the way across the room:

 "Last rum?  Damn your eyes, Mr. Lang, I've barely begun!  Don't like t'see a man drink, eh?  What do you know 'bout drink...wha'do you know 'bout livin', eh?  Sittin' there, drinkin' y'r Calypso-be-damned Iberrean wine, like some lady...look more like an officer's wife than an officer, le'me tell y'!  What'd you...swap y'r petticoats for epaulettes, did y'?  Damn y'r eyes, stop houndin' me!  You drink y'r damned-t'-Davy-Jones lady's wine, an' I'll drink my rum, eh?"

When you reach the table, the Captain is calling for more rum, and Mr. Lang is looking on exasperatedly.

"Yes, Mr. Thriceborn, what is it?" he asks in carefully controlled tones.  "I would appreciate your help in returning the Captain to his vessel; he has a regrettable tendency to...ah, overindulge in celebration."


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## kenjib (Oct 18, 2003)

Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> "Yes, Mr. Thriceborn, what is it?" he asks in carefully controlled tones.  "I would appreciate your help in returning the Captain to his vessel; he has a regrettable tendency to...ah, overindulge in celebration."




Vemuz looks over at the captain and then looks back to Mr. Lang.  "Yes, I will help, but first a quick word?

"There's been talk among the crew...  People are tense aboard the ship.  You see there's talk spreading that the hands that were lost are to be replaced with Standishtowners.  It's just rumor so far with the crew, but Mr. Ames told me that it's true.  Well, after the incident the other night, and from some other things that have happened, this hasn't been going over too well with the crew.  To be honest, nobody on ship seems to trust anyone from Standishtown.

"I fear that if these new hands will cause a disturbance on the ship, and running a tight, orderly, ship will be that much harder with dissent among the ranks.  With your leave, Mr. Lang, I simply ask that you give me a chance to rustle up some hands for the ship myself - some folks that aren't from around here.  I know that it's late already, and most folk from out of town have already hauled anchor, so if I can't find new hands we can keep the ones you've found.  I just ask that you give me the chance, should I be so lucky as to find a few suitable candidates.  Just give me until dawn."


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## Tonguez (Oct 18, 2003)

kenjib said:
			
		

> "Perhaps it would be best if we told him that we won their freedom gambling, though.  Mr. Lang seems a bit of a stickler, eh?  I can have a word with him down at the Inn if you'd like."




Malachi grimaces slightly at the suggestion about their freedom being won gambling but on reflection the realises the idea is sound

"dhey not t'ings to be won" the Half-orc says in a low tone "an' Ah be willin' t' pay if dhats wots needed t get dhem free.

Spek t' Mr Lang an' dhe Capitan if ya will..."

Once Vermuz takes leave for the Inn Malachi turns his attention back to the Orcs



> "Yass," one of the Orcs says quickly. "We join dis ship, we wan' be free like you. You want we should com' 'board now? You want we should tell others?"




Turning to the Orc, Malachi thinks quickly - how do you stop every Orc in Standishtown from wanting to get on board

"Ya fam'lies" he finally says his voice a mix of compassion and uncertainty "if ya got wifes or pik'nies brin' dhem too. Aint room fer no one else. But by dhe Lady's Grace Ah'll kom back fer dhem agen"


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## Uriel (Oct 18, 2003)

OoC: Bob, if I returned earlier as you posted, just when did I get back to the Ship, in regards to the orc conversation etc..not that I'd ever dream of getting involved with such a heinous thing as liberating Slaves...and I definately wouldn't use _Magic_ to help, should any of the Grace's men wish to say, help a few poor enslaved Orcs out... 
Man, we would _Rock_ with a score of orc marines wielding Halberds and snarling 'For dha Grace!'...hehehe.

IC:
Returned now to the Ship, Nico looks about to see who is up and about.
His head reeling a bit from wine and the three rums the the captain _insisted_ he drink in Salute to (1) The Sea, (2) The  Calypso's Grace, (3) 'The best Damned crew in all the World..'
All Nico wanted was a cup of black tea and one or two of those delicious Cinnamon cookies that he had bought this very afternoon. Shaking his head at the thought of 2 Gold crowns a box..for cookies...Oh, but these were worth the price, come all the way from Antidus, across the Sea. As Nico walked about the ship, he failed to notice the rain of cookie-crumbs pattering down from above as Artimus _paced him_ above in the rigging, seeing what he was about...


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## dead_radish (Oct 18, 2003)

Malthas peers at the captain, swaying a bit.  He hasn't had that much to drink (That was a lot of money to spend on new clothes, and he didn't want to spend all his cash), but he's tipsy.  Not nearly as much as the captain, though.  The White Horse is a nice place, which is lucky, since the captain would be rather upset if there were to be another brawl - in a tar's tavern, fists would have flown hours back.

When Vemuz comes in, Malthas' ears perk up, and he does his best to listen in.  He has to agree that it might be best to get the Captain back to the ship - he's been under a captain who was constantly hungover - it was not a fun voyage.  Perhaps it would be time to be getting back to the ship.

"Captain, perhaps this would be an ideal time to head back to the ship, to continue the celebration with those men that didn't join us, eh?  I think we've blessed this particular tavern with enough of our wits and charm - we don't want them to try to make you Mayor and bind you here, eh?"  He grins, and winks at the Captain.


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## Bob Aberton (Oct 20, 2003)

(OOC:  BUMP.  Just posting to let you know that I'm still here.  I'm also too busy to post a proper DM Post right now  .  I'll post the DM Post tomorrow, I promise.

Also, Jonah, if you could make a post between now and then, that would be awesome...)


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## Xael (Oct 20, 2003)

Jonah has followed the Captain to the inn, and has mostly stayed quiet for the whole evening. He's still not finished his first drink, and mostly pretends to be drinking it. His mind is still going through the forest adventure and he wants to go rest, but he'd rather stay near the captain and others - who he knows even a little bit - than stay with the crew, most of whom's names have eluded his memory.

When the captain starts reaching state of not-so-sober, Jonah decides that he'll probably try the "Calypso-be-damned Iberrean wine" next time, since it seems to lack the rather loud side-effects of rum. When Malthas tries his probably more effective way of leering the captain back to the ship, Jonah can't help but to smile a bit (though he tries to hide that from the captain). 

Sometimes diplomacy just doesn't work. 

OOC: Sorry...

I finally went to see the Pirates of The Caribbean: (The?) Curse of The Black Pearl. Good movie.


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## Tonguez (Oct 20, 2003)

Casting about for something more to offer Malachi leans in closer and earnestly whispers to the Orcs

"Lis'en t ma words. Dheres a bad wind blowin' doan dhat old river, wolf elfs gonna bring war t dhes town. Y' be tellin' dhose dhat matter t' be goin' south or up dhe river an' fight 'longside dhem elfs - maybe dhats gonna git y some freedom too."


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## Bob Aberton (Oct 21, 2003)

Vemuz,

"Oceanus only knows I'd rather not have to ship those Standishtowners as the new hands," Mr. Lang says slowly.  "The probability of disrupting discipline on the ship had occurred to me, but we will be sailing in pirate waters soon, and the current crew is barely enough to work the ship, let alone man the guns.  If you can find a dozen steady hands - steady hands, mind you, not the scrapings of the barrel from some local crimp - I'll dispose of the Standishtowners.  Unless you buy some Orcish slaves, though, I have no idea where you'll get steady hands.  All the same, I wish you luck, Mr. Thriceborn.  I don't want bad blood between the fo'c'sle hands."

Malthas, Jonah, Vemuz,

"Stay here?" the Captain says, only a little too loudly.  "I'd rather have my balls fed t' a Port Andorra shark.  Let's up anchor, mates, an' be on our way."

He flings a handful of coins on the table, and, taking one last glass "for the road," staggers out the door, supported by Vemuz and Jonah.

With some difficulty, you manage to maneuver the tipsy captain the right direction through the equally intoxicated late-night crowds swarming the street.  In fact, the majority of the sailors now on the streets is so badly off that the Captain seems relatively sober, even despite the sea chanties he insists on blaring to the heavens;

"When I was a young'un in me prime...

Way down, in Standishtown...

I courted them gals three at a time...

An' we'll roll the woodpile down!

Three flash packets lay out in th' bay...

Way down, in Standishtown..."

Malachi,

The slaves nod.

"We und'stand," says the spokesman.  "We bring family, we be free.  We tell dha others, go upriver, fin' de wolf elves."

He and the other slaves then look around stealthily, dropping all pretense of continuing to work, and dart off into the dark streets, afraid probably that their plans will be discovered and they will recieve another set of stripes for their troubles.

At the same time, you hear a sea chantey booming down the street in a familiar voice;

"When I was a young'un in me prime...

Way down, in Standishtown...

I courted them gals three at a time...

An' we'll roll the woodpile down!

Three flash packets lay out in th' bay...

Way down, in Standishtown..."

The Captain, supported by Mr. Thriceborn and Jonah, and accompanied by Mr. Swifthand and Mr. Lang, staggers aboard, considerably the worse for liquor and celebration.

Nicodemus,

You recall, through the haze of three toasts worth of rum, the strange conversation between Mr. Thriceborn and Mr. Legba whcih you interrupted upon your return to the ship:

Mr. Thriceborn had been saying something about supporting Mr. Legba, and about gambling for the freedom of slaves - or perhaps just telling Mr. Lang that was what happened.

Mr. Legba seemed to have been talking to some slaves on the docks; you distinctly recall the words "freedom" and "escape" having been used on more than one occasion.

(OOC:  You arrived just as the slaves first addressed Malachi & Malachi told them to escape and take refuge aboard the CALYPSO'S GRACE.)


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## kenjib (Oct 21, 2003)

Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> "Oceanus only knows I'd rather not have to ship those Standishtowners as the new hands," Mr. Lang says slowly.  "The probability of disrupting discipline on the ship had occurred to me, but we will be sailing in pirate waters soon, and the current crew is barely enough to work the ship, let alone man the guns.  If you can find a dozen steady hands - steady hands, mind you, not the scrapings of the barrel from some local crimp - I'll dispose of the Standishtowners.  Unless you buy some Orcish slaves, though, I have no idea where you'll get steady hands.  All the same, I wish you luck, Mr. Thriceborn.  I don't want bad blood between the fo'c'sle hands."




"Calypso knows where I'll find a dozen tonight, but I'll do my best.  Maybe I can even get ahold of some slaves tonight, like you say.  That is a good idea.  Thank you Mr. Lang."



			
				Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> The Captain, supported by Mr. Thriceborn and Jonah, and accompanied by Mr. Swifthand and Mr. Lang, staggers aboard, considerably the worse for liquor and celebration.




After the captain has been dumped in his bed, Vemuz returns quickly to find Malachai.  He pulls him aside where, hopefully, nobody will hear the conversation.  "Malachai, I've got Mr. Lang's permission.  The story is that we won them gambling from a local drunken merchant, and the new hands need to know this first thing when they show up in the morning, before anyone else gets a chance to talk to them.  He wants a dozen hands though.  Is it too late to find your new friend and have him rustle up a few more hands?  I don't see them on the dock here."


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## Uriel (Oct 21, 2003)

Approaching Malachai and vemuz on the deck, Nico strokes his chin and looks down at the docks as he says  'It seems ye two have a plan as ta where we'd be a-gettin some new Hands, eh? I wouldn't be oppossed to lendin some aid in the the areas of the Arcane to anything that'd help those poor sots escape this drudgery, just in case anyone had a mnd ta ask...'

Nico waits a moment in case either of the others wished to say anything regarding his offer. He wasn;t sure what they were about, but he had guessed a bit, and was definately of a mind to think Slavery one of the most abominable of  practices. If neither comments to him, he will nod a good night and make his way down to his cabin.


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## dead_radish (Oct 21, 2003)

Malthas arrives following the captain, grinning happily, and singing along when he can.  He is a bit wobbly, but careful examination will note that his steps are steady, and his grace has not left him.  As he steps on board, he grins happily at Malachai, and instantly recognizes the look on his friend's face.  His grins get significantly wider, and as soon as the captain is in his bunk, Malthas scampers back out (highly reminscient of Artimus, actually), and comes up to Malachai.  "You're planning something, aren't you?  I can see the rigging creak in your head as the sails blow.  If there's entertainment to be had, be sure you write in a part for yer old buddy Malthas, eh?"  He winks, slaps Malachai on the (almost) back, and sits down on the dock, whistling happily to himself.


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## Tonguez (Oct 22, 2003)

kenjib said:
			
		

> "Malachai, I've got Mr. Lang's permission.  The story is that we won them gambling from a local drunken merchant, and the new hands need to know this first thing when they show up in the morning, before anyone else gets a chance to talk to them.  He wants a dozen hands though.  Is it too late to find your new friend and have him rustle up a few more hands?  I don't see them on the dock here."




"Dozen?" Malachi scowls regretting that he sent them off so soon and with such a limited call "dhe go get dhems famlies. Mebbe dozen , ah dunno.

Damn mebbe me go doan Slave quarter fin' more?"

Looking up he sees the Ships Mage come by and offer his own help too. Malachi looks up and nods his thanks to the dwarf mage. 
"can use any gud mon wit' a mind fer freedom" the half-orc answers hoping that more heads can come up with a good answer to the dillema they now have before them.

Seeing Malthas come by too h feels a lot more confident that this is at least not going to turn bad too soon...


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## kenjib (Oct 23, 2003)

"Okay Malthas, Nico, if anyone asks, we headed back to that rathole from the other night and gambled with a local merchant to win the slaves.  That will explain our absence from the ship tonight."


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## Bob Aberton (Oct 24, 2003)

Malachi, Nicodemus, & Vemuz (assuming you went to the slaves quarters, which I presume you did),

The Auction House is easily the biggest building in Standishtown, bigger even than the meetinghouse.  With its ramparts and barred windows, it is easy to mistake it for a prison, and a prison it is.  But this prison holds those whose only crime was to appear different from "good" folk.

The only sign of life that you can see is a pair of second rate night watchmen, sharing a flask and throwing dice on the front steps of the Auction House.

Malthas, & Jonah,

After a short time below, Mr. Lang comes on deck again.

"Mr. Thriceborn! Mr....?  Mr. Swifthand, do you know where Mr. Thriceborn has gone?  I need to speak to him about overhauling the maintopmast shrouds."

(OOC Nicodemus:  Edit; that better?  )


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## Uriel (Oct 24, 2003)

Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> Malachi & Vemuz (assuming you went to the slaves quarters, which I presume you did),
> 
> The Auction House is easily the biggest building in Standishtown, bigger even than the meetinghouse.  With its ramparts and barred windows, it is easy to mistake it for a prison, and a prison it is.  But this prison holds those whose only crime was to appear different from "good" folk.
> 
> ...




I went along to liberate Slaves, taking my bag of scrolls as well...
Aha, now we are Pirates!! ARGH!!!!


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## Bob Aberton (Oct 25, 2003)

Nicodemus,

(OOC:  Whoops!  Sorry about that, I meant to add you in the group with Vemuz and Malachi...

I shall recitfy my mistake forwith  )


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## Tonguez (Oct 25, 2003)

Still standing back in the shadows trying to remain unseen Malachi makes a broad scan of the auction house and surrounding area trying to make out any means of geting pass the two guards unseen.
He looks up at his companions, wishing that his friend Malthas was amongst them a worried frown on his brow "_yoos go' teny plans?_" he whispers "_jes' need t'get word t'dhem inside t' be at t' ship amorrow 'n get back b'for enyone sees_"

(_ooc Hide check roll_ 11 + 1 = 12
_Spot check roll_ 18+9+1* = 28 (*Fav Enemy:human)


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## dead_radish (Oct 25, 2003)

"He mentioned something about going back to a tavern - a game of chance of some sort.  He was feeling lucky after the elven encounter, I suspect, and was going to try his luck."


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## Uriel (Oct 25, 2003)

OoC:had to go back and dig my spells out of pg 28 of the other thread,,,Ugh.
< Spells for the Day:
0aze,Detect Magic,Light,Mending
1:Charm Person,Color Spray,Magic Missile,True Strike
2:Alter Self,Detect Thoughts,Invisibility> I had cast Detect Thoughts from mymemorized and Locate Object from a Scroll. so I'm down one spell.

IC:
'Well, Lads, I kin make one o' ye _Invisible_ if'n thatd help.I kin also _Charm_ one of them fellers and make'm think I'm 'is bosom friend. Anything else ta add considerin my _Magic_?'


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## kenjib (Oct 25, 2003)

"If you just need to talk, how about the windows?"  Vemuz keeps watching to see if the guards go on patrol, or there seems to be any other risks involved with approaching one of the windows not near the front entrance.


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## Bob Aberton (Oct 27, 2003)

Vemuz,

The watchmen do not seem to patrol, though every so often one of them gets up and walks a few steps in either direction, giving a cursory glance to his surroundings; they quickly go back to their dice as soon as their "patrol" is over.

However, they might as well be playing dice as patrolling, because the exterior windows you can see face seawards; of the three sides of the building you can observe from your vantage point, the only windows are in the front of the building, to either side of the stoop where the inattentive watchmen are.

You have no way of knowing whether the back of the building might have more windows.

Malachi,

Your sharp vision catches sight of a small side alley which would offer a means to get around to the back of the building, more or less unseen.  Unless the maze of back alleys offer another route, this side alley is the only visible means of sneaking around the unwatched back of the Auction House.

The only disadvantage is that you would be visible for the first fifty feet, and an Orc (even a Half-orc) sneaking around the Auction House would be almost guaranteed to attract suspicion.

Malthas,

Mr. Lang frowns in irritation.

"Damn!  What on earth would possess him to do such a thing?  I specifically requested that he stay ashore, with his...heritage...and that brawl he was involved in the night before last, he'll be a walking target for any passing clamdigger.  They might even bring him to court for that fight, and I doubt that any court here would be easy on a half-Orc.  I shall have to speak with him upon his return."


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## Uriel (Oct 27, 2003)

Nico begins formulating a _Plan_ in his mind. Whispering to his compatriots, he outlines...

Artimus will go up and over the building, scouting for any other windows, as well as back doors.

Nico will use _Alter Self_ to appear as a human merchant, an affluent one who has come loking for a few quick pick-up labourers. Casting _Invisibility_ on both Malachai or Vemuz (one from memorized, one from a Scroll) for a secret back-up, he will try and enter the building having first cast _Charm Person_ on one of the Guards, 'reminding' him that they met a few nights earlier in a bar and shared a few rounds, he will mention that he still owes the Guard several rounds, as he recalls...
With a few coins in the right palms, Gold ones, most likely better than these fools are used to seeing, entrance for a 'friend' shouldn't be too hard. Once inside, they can make a plan as befits the situation.

Nico will pass out 2 _Alchemist's Fire_ to each of the other two, a _Tanglefoot Bag_ to Vemuz and 2 _Smokesticks_ to Malachai for distraction and general chaos factor. this should be one fun _liberation_.

OoC: Thoughts, guys???


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## dead_radish (Oct 27, 2003)

Malthas looks thoughtful.  "Well, I believe he was attempting to find some crewmembers to replace those that we lost - he said something about keeping the peace by not hiring Standishtowners?  If you are worried, I could go out and look for him, remind him to keep out of trouble...."

"Is that, true, by the by?  That we were considering hiring on Standishtowners on board?  I'd hate to see the crew if it was half Clamdiggers."


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## Tonguez (Oct 27, 2003)

Uriel said:
			
		

> Nico begins formulating a _Plan_ in his mind. Whispering to his compatriots, he outlines...
> 
> Artimus will go up and over the building, scouting for any other windows, as well as back doors.
> 
> ...




"tis gudaseny plan ah hav" Malachi looks down at the Mage aprovingly "Ah was tinkin dhe same way. 
Dhere isan Alleyway up dhe back or dhe Buildin' dhet mebbe we check fer back door way out, case we need a' way fer runnin'.

Wha' say yu Swordfishar? We go wit dhe mages plan?"


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## kenjib (Oct 27, 2003)

Vemuz grins wickedly at little Nico as he grunts his approval.


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## Uriel (Oct 28, 2003)

OoC:Artimus is looking for a back alley etc...The Invisibility will only last 3 minutes, ach.


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## Bob Aberton (Oct 29, 2003)

*Test Post*

(OOC:  Disregard this post; this is a Test Post.  My account's been acting up [won't let me log in, when I do log in, it logs me off when I try to post].  So I'm posting this to see if the #$#$@&%^ thing will let me post now...  )


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## kenjib (Oct 29, 2003)

Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> (OOC:  Disregard this post; this is a Test Post.  My account's been acting up [won't let me log in, when I do log in, it logs me off when I try to post].  So I'm posting this to see if the #$#$@&%^ thing will let me post now...  )




ooc:  Are you using the enworld address instead of cyberstreet?


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## Bob Aberton (Oct 29, 2003)

Nicodemus,

The guards look up, vaguely suspicious, when they hear your footsteps.  When they see an apparently affluent personage approaching, however, they quickly snap to attention.  One of the guards stares blankly at the sky as your spell takes effect, then greets you like his long-lost brother.

"Why good evenin' to ya, sir!  An' may I say, wot a great honor this is ter have yer here!  Anythin' we can do for ya, sir?"

His friend looks at you suspiciously, however.

"Auction house's closed," he says curtly.

"Ah, don't be such a strict bastard, Jack," says the charmed guard.  Then he turns to you.  "I 'pologize for his his behavior, yer Honor.  Normally we doesn't open up until 7 in the mornin', but we could make a special case for yerself p'raps."

Malthas,

Mr. Lang gives an irritated huff.

"No, I'd prefer you stay on board the ship, Mr. Swifthand.  I don't want all of my officers wandering about the streets in the small hours of the morning, you know.  Sets a bad example for the men.

And I'm afraid the rumors are correct.  Due to the shortage of seaman aboard this vessel, I have been forced to hire a dozen clamdiggers - and the scrapings of the barrel they are, too.  Unless someone's hiding a dozen steady hands in his hat, we need the men for our passage to Port Andorra - pirate waters, you know, and as of now it takes both watches to man the guns, without leaving any for the trimming of the sails or manning the pumps."


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## dead_radish (Oct 29, 2003)

Malthas nods.  "Fair enough.  I wonder if there aren't other folks in town that might be interested in joining up, some that weren't born and bred in the town.  Strong backs, I'd think."


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## Tonguez (Oct 30, 2003)

Malachi invisibly follows behind Nicodemus, lurking back in the shadows despite the redundancy of the action.
He considers summoning some animal as a ploy to get the other guard to move away and investigate but for now holds still praying that Calypso will aid the mages endeavours to gain entry to the Auction House.

Looking up past the trio on the step he scans the door and walls trying to assess just how easy it might be to sneak in if the guards are distracted long enough - can the door even be opened without some kind of key?...


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## Uriel (Oct 31, 2003)

Nico says  'Why thank Ye, Lads, I'd jus like a look at the Merch to get me picks set fer the Morning's business, a little Jump on the competiton an all...never helps ta have _friends_ in important places, lads...
As he says friends, Nico opens a small bag with a couple of dozen gold coins in it, shows them quickly and tosses them to the suspicious looking fellow, winking in a manner than suggests that there will be more with the opening of such an ongoing arrangement.

If the guards let him inside, Nico will casually keep the door open long enough with his foot for one of the _Invisible_ men to get ahold of it.
Mentally calling to Artimus, Nico tells his Familiar to keep a look out for anyone coming towards the doors. Artimus begins  scampering about and keeping his simiam eyes on the ways in...


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## Bob Aberton (Nov 2, 2003)

Nicodemus, Vemuz, & Malachi,

"We-e-ell, now, I s'pose t'wouldn't hurt no-one if yer just lookin'," the suspicious guard relents, viewing the coins and licking his lips.  "Borrim'll let ya in, I'll keep an eye on th' streets - wouldn't like t' lose me job over somethin' like this, ya know, cully."

The door is iron-bound, with a small barred window at the top; it is obviously very strong, with a lock that on any other door would seem comically huge.

Borrim, bowing and eager to please, prises open the door, while Jack makes a show of watching the street vigilantly.

The door opens onto a kind of courtyard or amphitheater, with a large podium and a small stage in the center.  The stage is strewn with chains and manacles and it is easy to guess its purpose.

Behind the amphitheater are what can only be described as pens - rooms about the size of an inn's common room, albeit with one wall, the one facing the amphitheater, barred like a jail cell, with heavily locked doors.

The floors of the pens are covered with bodies - sleeping Orcs, with one thin blanket each (for the luckier ones), the young and strong in one cage, the women and children in another.  There is no cage for the old and infirm, as they rarely survive the journey from the Dark Continent to here.

A few wake up at your approach; they stare dully at you, most of them gone beyond fear and anger to acceptance.

In a special pen to the left of the amphitheater are the day-laborers - property of the Auction House that are not sold, but rented per day for various tasks.  You recognize the dock-workers among these; in the day-laborer's pen, no distinction is made between men, women, or children.

A small corridor leads further past the slave pens towards the back of the building - possibly a back door of some sort.

"Jus' look at them, yer Honor," Borrim says to Nicodemus, bowing deeply.  "Cream o' the crop - prime fieldhands.  Strong backs, might need a little breaking in for th' odd stubborn bastard, but worth their weight in gold, sir."  He pauses, then adds hastily, "O' course, they'll go for considerably cheaper  than thet, yer Honor."

Nicodemus,

You only half hear the guard's prattling, as a series of three twinges in your mind warn you that the invisibility spell you cast on Vemuz and Malachi has but 30 seconds left before it fades away.  When it does, you doubt that even the charmed guard will completely accept any excuse you can make up, should he catch sight of Malachi or Vemuz.  After all, a rich merchant bribing his way into the Auction House at this ungodly hour is suspicious enough, but to be seen as also bringing a pair of heavily armed apparent thugs is something that Davy Jones himself would have difficulties explaining away.

Malachi & Vemuz,

As you brush past Jack at the door, he looks around at Nicodemus watchfully once more, weighing the coins in one hand and toying with his cudgel with the other.  He is obviously not entirely convinced by Nicodemus's story, though all too happy to take the money.

(OOC:  Move Silently checks, please.) 

Malthas,

Mr. Lang glances at you sharply when you say this.

"Perhaps, Mr. Swifthand, perhaps.  However, I'm afraid we lack the funds to...ah...gain such men for our crew, and furthermore, the Captain has made it clear that he will not prop up this 'detestable traffic' by...buying a crew.  He is a rather liberal-minded individual, as you may have noticed."


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## Uriel (Nov 2, 2003)

Once inside (and hoping that at least one of his companions stayed outside to watch the other guard), Nico makes a show of looking abuot at the Slaves.
When he feels the twinge signaling the spell's eminent ending, he steps a few feet further from the Guard (past Aofop range, getting a closer look at the slaves in the pen etc...) and says 'Well, I guess that I've done about as much looking as possible for the night, thank you my friend.I guess we can conclude this business _now_.'
Nico hopes that the his Invisible companion will get the hint. Regardless, if the Guard hasn't suddenly been knocked senseless by an invisible Sap, Nico will _Color Spray_ him from a few feet away.


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## kenjib (Nov 2, 2003)

move silently = 5 + 2dex -1armor = 6 total  

Vemuz tries to creep in quietly and then looks around for a place to hide from the guard's view, remembering Nico's warning earlier about three short minutes.


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## dead_radish (Nov 3, 2003)

Malthas nods gravely.  "Indeed, sir, I have.  The captain seems to accept all manner of scalawags and ne'er-do-wells.  I hear he even hires halflings!"  Malthas winks at him.  "I know that Malachai is a very persuasive individual, sir.  And natchurally, he wouldn't condone the hiring of slaves.  But I'm sure he'll think of something...."


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## Tonguez (Nov 3, 2003)

Watching as the disguised Nicodemus enters the Auction House the half-orc wonders what his next step is going to be. He knows the invisibility wont last too long but he can't just suddenly manifest here out in the open!

He considers that it might in fact be safer to go indoors and then hope that they can still get out without too much problem afterwards and so he to enters the door with the others leaving the suspicious guard outside alone!

(ooc sorry for the delay and Move silent roll 10 +1 = 11)


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## Bob Aberton (Nov 6, 2003)

Malthas,

Mr. Lang's lips twitch briefly at your witticism, the closest that he ever comes to appreciating anyone's humor.  His face resumes its stern cast, however, within half a second.

"As long as he does not stir up trouble, Mr. Swifthand.  Respect for the law is very important to a well-run vessel."

Malachi, Nicodemus, and Vemuz,

There is a momentary pause as Nicodemus takes a few steps back and suddenly barks out an incantation.  Borrim's face registers almost comic surprise as he is blinded by a flash of vivid, colored light.  He crumples to the floor.

At the same time, Malachi and Vemuz materialize, seemingly out of thin air.  Neither of them is within striking distance of the door.

The other guard, Jack, peers around the door when he hears Nicodemus' incantation.  He appears not entirely surprised, but entirely blindsided by the suddeness of Nicodemus's actions.  He reaches for the door, perhaps intending to close it.

Meanwhile, the Orcs in the pens are stirring at this sudden commotion, peering around with confusion and in some cases fear.  Most, however, look around, dull resignation to whatever fate is about to be visited upon them evident in their eyes.

(OOC:  Malachi, Vemuz, & Nicodemus, I'll need Initiative now...)


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## Uriel (Nov 6, 2003)

Init 16
Artimus Init 7 (he is outside somewhere, where exactly? He's gonna drop crap on theguard from the roof, rocks, shingles..._improvised_ missile weapns...yep he'd do that, monkeys like hurling _nightsoil_.


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## kenjib (Nov 6, 2003)

Uriel said:
			
		

> Init 16
> Artimus Init 7 (he is outside somewhere, where exactly? He's gonna drop crap on theguard from the roof, rocks, shingles..._improvised_ missile weapns...yep he'd do that, monkeys like hurling [I[nightsoil[/I].




http://www.skullcats.com/iflpooteesh.html



init = 5 + 2 = 7

Vemuz will try to grab the outside guard's arm as he reaches for the door and drag him in.  If the door is already closed, he will open it and see what the guard is doing.


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## Tonguez (Nov 6, 2003)

1nit 13 (8+5)

Malachi rushes to the door making sure that it doesn't get closed and worse locked! Assuming that he gets to door open he intends grabbing the guards head and dragging him in followed by a forehead to the nose (oi!).


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## Bob Aberton (Nov 10, 2003)

Nicodemus,

You reach the door just ahead of the guard, with Malachi and Vemuz far behind.  The guard makes a grab for the door handle, but stops as he is pelted with a staggering amount of garbage from the vicinity of the roof.

The door remains open, but the guard draws his cudgel, at the same time shouting,

"The Watch!  Help, help, Porc-stealers!"

Malachi & Vemuz,

Both of you are uncharacteristically slow in reacting, but fortunately Nicodemus reaches it first, and holds it open.  The guard, however, draws his club and begins shouting for the Watch.


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## Tonguez (Nov 10, 2003)

Cursing to himself Malachi reaches forward an aagain makes a grab for the guard hoping to at least drag him inside and get rid of that threat before the watch arrives.

He plans on hauling the guard inside throwing him back to Vemuz to deal with while he calls on Calypso to send a thick obscuring mist to fill the outside courtyard.

(ooc _attack = 22 (18 +4) , Str = 17 (14 + 3)_)


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## Uriel (Nov 10, 2003)

Nico (Spot total 16) looks frantically around for a Key, yelling to any Orcxs awake 'Where's the Bleeding Keys, you lot of sorry Slaves. We'd better find it if'n ya wants ta git outta this Hellhole!'


Edit:Spelling


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## kenjib (Nov 11, 2003)

Vemuz will try and grab the guard as Malachi throws him back, reaching across his mouth to keep him quiet.  If Malachi fails, he will move forward to assist Malachi in subduing the guard.

Here are some rolls (not sure how you will adjudicate it):

Roll 1: 10.
Roll 2: 7.
Roll 3: 1.
Roll 4: 20.


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## Bob Aberton (Nov 14, 2003)

Malachi,

You manage to get a good hold on the guard's neck, but if he is an incompetent guard, he also a fairly bulky man.  He digs his heels into the cobblestone and even manages a swing at your head with his free hand.

Fortunately, Vemuz also grabs him and between the two of you you manage to wrestle him inside the door.  He is not done fighting, however, throwing off a rather clumsy attempt to pin him by Vemuz and swing his club wildly, still shouting for the Watch.

Vemuz,

Malachi manages to grab the guard, but he is a bulky man, and digs his heels into the cobblestone.  Between the two of you, however, you do manage to pull him inside the door.

Once inside, however, he shows he still has some fight left in him; he throws off your attempt to pin him and continues swinging his club wildly and calling for the Watch.

Nicodemus,

Once the guard is wrestled inside the doorway, you kick it shut.

In response to your query about the keys, one of the Orcs who knows some Hullish shouts,

"Guard has keys!  He keep 'em in his pockets!"

You notice he is pointing to the guard that has not yet been subdued by Malachi and Vemuz.

You also notice that the door, which opens inward, has the lock on the outside.  Any minute the Watch could dome running and stroll right in and the door can't be locked from the inside.

(OOC All:  Sorry about my absence, but I've been pretty busy lately...things will settle down for me after next week, though, so I'll probably be posting more regularly then.)


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## Uriel (Nov 15, 2003)

Nico moves to the guard, gesturing for the others to retrieve the keys and/or knock him senseless as need be.


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## dead_radish (Nov 15, 2003)

Unaware of the fun and excitement going on without him, Malthas takes a nap.


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## Tonguez (Nov 15, 2003)

Malachi attempts to get behind the guard and then charge forward hopefully slamming him into a wall to knock him out or better still the bars of a cage so that the orcs within can grab him.

(_roll 16 - um is this a bullrush?_)


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## Bob Aberton (Nov 16, 2003)

Malachi,

The guard is propelled forward and comes to a sudden halt against the bars of one of the pens, aided by a strong shove from your direction.

He quickly tries to pick himself up, but the dozen or so Orcs in the pen - strong, young males that would have made prime field hands - reach through the bars and pin him in an instant, extracting justice for their wrongs in true Orc fashion - swiftly and brutally.  The guard attempts to beat them off with his free hand, but that arm is swiftly broken, with a sudden twist from one of the Orcish dockworkers.  He doesn't have long to worry about his pain, however, as another of the dockworkers you saw snakes muscular hands around his neck and squeezes tightly.

He slides to floor, dead or unconscious; you can see the keys protruding from one of his pockets.

Nicodemus,

The shouting from the guard abruptly stops behind you; triumphant Orcish yells take its place.

You pay little attention to that, however, as you can hear a rush of heavy footfalls outside the door.  You can see the glow of an approaching lantern through one of the barred windows.


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## Tonguez (Nov 17, 2003)

"We gonna be a fightin'" Malachi feels the rush of his Orcish heritage burning in his veins as he reaches down and takes the keys throwing them to the young orcs in their cages "fer freedom or dignity. An'wan knowin if we g'tya back door? and wots dhe fas'est way out dhe city? Get evr'one out. Wade in dhe rivar, go t' dhe for'est. 12 be com wit me t' dhe docks."

As the orcs deal with opening the locks he himself turns and calls the obscuring mist to full the courtyard outside the door, hopefully providing at least a modicum of cover for their escape...


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## Uriel (Nov 17, 2003)

Nico frantically looks for a back way out <Search 16 total>


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## kenjib (Nov 18, 2003)

Vemuz grins at Malachi's words.  "We just might be swingin' in the morning too.  Just need to get in and talk with them, eh?"  A morbid chuckle escapes him.

ooc:  does the door open inward or outward?  If it swings inward toward him, Vemuz will rush to the door and brace it against opening.  If it swings outward Vemuz will rush to the prison where the orcs are freeing themselves and assist in rushing them out the prison doors so as to increase the general confusion and increase the odds that they will be able to sneak out unseen.


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## Bob Aberton (Nov 22, 2003)

Vemuz,

You slam the door shut and brace against it.

From outside, a voice seemingly straight out of your memories of the inland wars and howling drill sergeants shouts:

"This is the Watch!  Come out now, I say, or we will force the door!"

A few seconds of silence ensue, and then you feel a shock vibrate through the door.  You dig your heels in and brace for the next blow.

Behind you, you hear an Orcish voice shout "We done got free!" and a loud, combined roar of triumphant as the Orcs are unlocked and let out of their pens.

(OOC:  Make a STR check to hold the door shut.)

Nicodemus,

You spot, behind the pens, a small and nondescript door that, wherever it leads, leads away from the irate watchmen trying to force their way in.

Malachi,

The excited murmur of the Orcs swells to a triumphant roar as one by one the pens are unlocked and the Orcs find themselves, for the first time since they were herded on slaveships in the Wild Lands, free and unchained.

"We done got free!"  shouts one of the dockworkers, and the cry is taken up by all of the erstwhile slaves.

Free at last!


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## Uriel (Nov 23, 2003)

Moving to the door, Nico says (not too loud a shout), 'Calypso's Grace, we have our Out. gentlemen, I think it's high time we ditch this cesspool of a town!


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## kenjib (Nov 24, 2003)

Strength check:  1 + 3 = 4.

"Go!  Quickly!  I'll hold the door!"  Vemuz strains to hold the door, but is distracted as he turns slightly to tell the others to quickly leave.


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## Tonguez (Nov 24, 2003)

"Falla dhe dwarv!" Malachi yells at the newly free Orcs "g'tout as quek y'can"
As for himself he runs up to stands with Vemuz holding the door and casting about for something to use to bar it - even perhaps the body of a fallen guard.

Hauling the body up to the door and jamming it against the threshold and using whatever else is handy as a brace he leans against the door and whispers so many prayers to Calypso that it seems his throat will go dry. 

(_ooc Str check 10+3 = 13, cast Obsucring Mist, Bane, Guidance ready to cast Summon Monster_)


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## Uriel (Nov 25, 2003)

Nico _sends_ to Artimus, ' Dammit, Artimus, I need to know how many guards are out there at the front dora, as well as the back of the building. I'll be comming out with a pack of Orcs quick on my heels and we need ta know what's a'waitin fer us.'


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## dead_radish (Nov 25, 2003)

Malthas dreams of small women and piles of gold, happy in his slumber.


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## Bob Aberton (Nov 30, 2003)

Nicodemus,

_...angrymen number 1 paw (ie 5) at front door...2 angrymen at back door..._

You hear, over the din of the newly free Orcs, a bursting, splintering noise (much like the impact of a 12 pound shot you heard once, serving on the THORGRIM'S WRATH), and over your shoulder you glimpse Vemuz bowled over as the front door shakes.  The portal holds, however, for the moment.

Vemuz,

Your momentary distraction proves your undoing, as the door shudders again, almost slamming open.  The impact flings you to the ground like a bundle of sailcloth, your unexpected flight terminating in a very inglorious landing on your backside.

(OOC:  I treated the watchmen's attempt to force the door as a bullrush, opposed by you and Malachi on the other side of the door.  Because you failed your STR check, you took the brunt of the bullrush and were forced back 5 feet.)

Malachi,

The door shudders again as the watchmen fling themselves against it.  Vemuz, distracted by a momentary glance over his shoulder, is knocked off balance and is hurled back a few feet, making an inglorious landing on his backside.

Calypso must approve of your venture, however, for as your prayers leave your lips you feel Her strength flow in your veins.  The door holds.

Meanwhile on the other side of the door, the Protectress of Mariners shows her other face; a low note like a ship's bell reverbrates through the oaken planks, and the next blow on the door is weak and disheartened.  It feels almost as though the watchmen are afraid to approach the door.

Your original prayer to Her is answered as well; you can see through one of the small barred windows that the courtyard where the auction block stands is filled with a "pea-soup" fog.

You can also hear snatches of the watchmen's conversation outside the door via the same window.  

"...ain't natural, Sar'nt.  First this fog, an' then th' bell...you'd think Calypso Herself is against us.  Or maybe Davy Jones...shouldn' we call...magical reinforcements?"

"Damn your eyes, Wilkes, what kind o' superstitious nonsense 're ya spoutin' now?  Calypso don't care about no score 're two o' flea bitten Porcs, even if they are prime hands!  I'll be damned if I'll call fer magical reinforcements, my report's gonna read that Sar'nt Q. Jones captured that there lot o' Porc-stealers on his own.  Don't need to be roustin' no damned mages out o' their beds at this hour, 's just a coupla Porc-stealin' bandits holed up in there.  Now put yer backs into it, all o' ya!"


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## Bob Aberton (Nov 30, 2003)

Nicodemus,

_...angrymen number 1 paw (ie 5) at front door...2 angrymen at back door..._

You hear, over the din of the newly free Orcs, a bursting, splintering noise (much like the impact of a 12 pound shot you heard once, serving on the THORGRIM'S WRATH), and over your shoulder you glimpse Vemuz bowled over as the front door shakes.  The portal holds, however, for the moment.

Vemuz,

Your momentary distraction proves your undoing, as the door shudders again, almost slamming open.  The impact flings you to the ground like a bundle of sailcloth, your unexpected flight terminating in a very inglorious landing on your backside.

(OOC:  I treated the watchmen's attempt to force the door as a bullrush, opposed by you and Malachi on the other side of the door.  Because you failed your STR check, you took the brunt of the bullrush and were forced back 5 feet.)

Malachi,

The door shudders again as the watchmen fling themselves against it.  Vemuz, distracted by a momentary glance over his shoulder, is knocked off balance and is hurled back a few feet, making an inglorious landing on his backside.

Calypso must approve of your venture, however, for as your prayers leave your lips you feel Her strength flow in your veins.  The door holds.

Meanwhile on the other side of the door, the Protectress of Mariners shows her other face; a low note like a ship's bell reverbrates through the oaken planks, and the next blow on the door is weak and disheartened.  It feels almost as though the watchmen are afraid to approach the door.

Your original prayer to Her is answered as well; you can see through one of the small barred windows that the courtyard where the auction block stands is filled with a "pea-soup" fog.

You can also hear snatches of the watchmen's conversation outside the door via the same window.  

"...ain't natural, Sar'nt.  First this fog, an' then th' bell...you'd think Calypso Herself is against us.  Or maybe Davy Jones...shouldn' we call...magical reinforcements?"

"Damn your eyes, Wilkes, what kind o' superstitious nonsense 're ya spoutin' now?  Calypso don't care about no score 're two o' flea bitten Porcs, even if they are prime hands!  I'll be damned if I'll call fer magical reinforcements, my report's gonna read that Sar'nt Q. Jones captured that there lot o' Porc-stealers on his own.  Don't need to be roustin' no damned mages out o' their beds at this hour, 's just a coupla Porc-stealin' bandits holed up in there.  Now put yer backs into it, all o' ya!"


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## Bob Aberton (Nov 30, 2003)

Nicodemus,

_...angrymen number 1 paw (ie 5) at front door...2 angrymen at back door..._

You hear, over the din of the newly free Orcs, a bursting, splintering noise (much like the impact of a 12 pound shot you heard once, serving on the THORGRIM'S WRATH), and over your shoulder you glimpse Vemuz bowled over as the front door shakes.  The portal holds, however, for the moment.

Vemuz,

Your momentary distraction proves your undoing, as the door shudders again, almost slamming open.  The impact flings you to the ground like a bundle of sailcloth, your unexpected flight terminating in a very inglorious landing on your backside.

(OOC:  I treated the watchmen's attempt to force the door as a bullrush, opposed by you and Malachi on the other side of the door.  Because you failed your STR check, you took the brunt of the bullrush and were forced back 5 feet.)

Malachi,

The door shudders again as the watchmen fling themselves against it.  Vemuz, distracted by a momentary glance over his shoulder, is knocked off balance and is hurled back a few feet, making an inglorious landing on his backside.

Calypso must approve of your venture, however, for as your prayers leave your lips you feel Her strength flow in your veins.  The door holds.

Meanwhile on the other side of the door, the Protectress of Mariners shows her other face; a low note like a ship's bell reverbrates through the oaken planks, and the next blow on the door is weak and disheartened.  It feels almost as though the watchmen are afraid to approach the door.

Your original prayer to Her is answered as well; you can see through one of the small barred windows that the courtyard where the auction block stands is filled with a "pea-soup" fog.

You can also hear snatches of the watchmen's conversation outside the door via the same window.  

"...ain't natural, Sar'nt.  First this fog, an' then th' bell...you'd think Calypso Herself is against us.  Or maybe Davy Jones...shouldn' we call...magical reinforcements?"

"Damn your eyes, Wilkes, what kind o' superstitious nonsense 're ya spoutin' now?  Calypso don't care about no score 're two o' flea bitten Porcs, even if they are prime hands!  I'll be damned if I'll call fer magical reinforcements, my report's gonna read that Sar'nt Q. Jones captured that there lot o' Porc-stealers on his own.  Don't need to be roustin' no damned mages out o' their beds at this hour, 's just a coupla Porc-stealin' bandits holed up in there.  Now put yer backs into it, all o' ya!"


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## Uriel (Nov 30, 2003)

Turning to the Orcs, Nico says 'there's two of em on th; other side o'this door! Thet's al thet keeps ya from yer freedom, lads! Grab a club,a chair,a roc and lets 'Ave at these landlubberin Dogs!' Nico makes room for the Orcs to move past hi and out, meanwhile looking back to his Mates to see if there was aught that he could do for them.


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## kenjib (Dec 1, 2003)

Vemuz curses, rushing up to brace the door again.  "I don't think you want to come through this door, but if you want to talk I need your name.  You'd better hurry though.  Several score here are angry and ready for blood.  It's taking more to hold them from the door than to hold you from it, and don't think of running for backup.  This'll be long over by the time you try that."  _That voice...who is it?_

str roll (if needed):  10 + 3 = 13 (minus any penalty for the arm)


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## Bob Aberton (Dec 3, 2003)

Nicodemus,

With a wild howl, the Orcs burst out through the back door, swinging rocks, chair legs, and bare fists.

The look on the faces of the two watchmen outside the door is priceless - clearly, they expected a couple of scruffy "Porc-rustlers," but instead facing them are about two score large, well muscled, and very angry Orcs.

One swings his club half-heartedly, and quickly disappears under a sea of flailing Orc fists.  The other uses the better part of valor and, dropping his club and whistle, runs as fast as he can in the other direction.

Vemuz,

"This is Sergeant Quillen Jones of the Standishtown City Watch.  We do not neogotiate with criminals, unless you would like to neogotiate your surrender,"
The voice sounds just a bit less cocksure at your mention of scores of bloodthirsty Orcs.

At last, you recoginze the voice; Corporal Quillen Jones of the 9th Hullish Grenadiers was a messmate of yours during the last inland war you fought in; you once went 12 rounds with the man during the idle hours after camp had been set for a bet of two gold pieces.  From what you recall, he was a man of no exceptional physical prowess, although his voice could be heard for half a mile; he was notable only in his mulish stubbornness, insisting upon finishing the last 6 rounds with a bad concussion and a broken nose, blinded by his own blood.  The fight ended in a knockout for Corporal Jones; soon after, the 9th Grenadiers were decimated during a bloody and protracted campaign in the Malpaire Valley in Iberrea. 

The next blow on the door is still quite strong, but you and Malachi manage to just barely hold it shut.


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## Uriel (Dec 3, 2003)

Nico will _Send_ to Artimus to meet him at the back door. Then, handing the Monkey two _Alchemist's Fire_, Nico will instruct him to toss them down upon the front door area,less to try and kill the men and more to try and impede their entrance into the Wharehouse.


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## Bob Aberton (Dec 6, 2003)

Nicodemus,

Artimus appears upside down over your head, hanging by his tail from a drainpipe.  When you explain you plan to him, he chatters excitedly and snaps a parody of a salute at you.

_...you want I should burn angrymen, Master?....burn with prettyfire!_

Taking a vial in each hand, he flips himself upright and scrambles across the roof.  A few minutes later to hear the smashing of glass and an outburst of surprised shouting from the region of the front door.

Malachi, Vemuz,

Behind you, the last of the Orcs tramples out of the building, leaving it empty except for you.

From outside, at just about this moment, you hear a faint smashing of glass from just outside the door and whoosh of flames.  The door suddenly grows very warm to the touch, and over the shouting and crackling of flames outside, you can hear a monkey's excited chattering.

At least one watchman got doused with the stuff, whatever it is, and through the window you can see him frantically rolling on the ground, trying to beat out the flames.  The other watchmen are very leery of approaching the (apparently) burning door.


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## Uriel (Dec 6, 2003)

Yelling to his mates 'C'mon Lads it's now 'er nev'r!' Nico laughs as he bolts out the back door, _sending_ to Arti to high tail it back across the roof and meet Nico behind the building once more.


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## kenjib (Dec 7, 2003)

"You're lucky to have made it alive out of Malpaire, Quillen.  I heard it was a bloodbath.  Get out of town tonight, quietly, will you?  I've heard that bad things are coming down soon.  _We watch each others' backs, eh?_  Maybe next time we'll be on the same side again - like old times."  Vemuz lets out his distinctive and instantly recognizable chuckle - a sound more menacing than jovial.

With that Vemuz turns toward his shipmates, making sure to bring up the rear as he heads quickly for the back door.


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## Tonguez (Dec 7, 2003)

The Savage stirrings of his heart propel Malachi forward to join his orcish brethren - is it bloodlust that he feels calling him to a night of rampage and destruction?

As he exits the door his more rational mind asserts itself - probably two men dead, the town will be out for blood, the only safety is to get the Orcs to the ship and away or else out and into the woods.

"Orcs g'to dhe trees, hide n dhe f'rest - Dwarf, Human!" Malachi bellows to his companions "g'bak t'dhe ship n out a' port - Dhats n Order!

Ah g'wit dhem t'dhe rivar n' dhe trees. Pointy ears saf'r dhen clamdiggars!

Y'fin' me down dhe rivar."


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## Bob Aberton (Dec 8, 2003)

Vemuz,

As you leave the door, it bursts open with a shattering crash, sending burning embers flying everywhere.

An older, more grizzled Quillen Jones bursts in as well.  You notice that his left arm is oddly bent and useless, tucked up against his chest; probably a souvenir of the Malpaire Valley campaign.  He skids to a stop, watchman's club in one hand, and flings away his now smouldering overcoat and watch cap.  None of his men follow him through the burning doorway.

He stares at you for a long moment, his mouth half-open.

"Vemuz Thriceborn...never thought we'd meet again," he says.  You notice he begins to raise his club.  But he takes another long look at you and shakes his head slightly, lowering the weapon.  

"Aye, we watch each other's backs," he agrees, at last.

He turns to the doorway and shouts,

"Looks like the bastards got away, no use in searchin' here anymore.  Smith, Carrington, take High Street.  Is Willoughby hurt bad?  I'll search Block Street with Cony."

You realize in giving his orders to his men, he has conveniently led them away from both the roads leading to the GRACE and also the roads leading away into the forest.

He turns to go, but before he does, he snaps you a smart salute.

"You owe me a drink if we ever meet again, Vemuz."

With that, he turns and strides out the door, cursing his men for their tardiness.

Malachi,

Some of the younger, more vigorous Orcs are all for rampaging now, but an older one, an Orc still strong-looking but whose hair has gone white, steps in.

"We go to pointy-ears," one of them says.  "'Less you wish for dha ol' folk an' dha young'uns to die.  But one day we show dis town dha wrath of Gruumsh's Chil'ren.  Our day be a comin', ah can smell it!"

The Orcs accept you as their obvious leader, and by taking back alleys, you manage to lead them to the edge of the town, right on the bank of the Standish River.   A few small rowboats and keg rafts are tied up to the landing stage.  The ragged group, forty-odd Orcs, old men and young Orclings and a few vigorous youths, stand silently on the river, waiting for your guidance. 

The younger Orcs are eager for the dark forest and murky river ahead of them.  The older Orcs, however, those who have grown used to slavery, stand uncertain, suddenly unwilling to leave the dubious comforts of civilization.

The older Orc who quieted his fellows back at the Auction House steps forward to speak to you.

"When Ah was Orcling, Ah live by de River, down in de Wild-Lands - de River deys call' 'Amarzun'.  Ah had canoe, could paddle canoe.  You want Ah should take de boats?  You needs get back t'yar ship, you want I should take de boats up de river an' let de pointy-ears fin' us?" 

Nicodemus

The majority of the Orcs go with Malachi.

However, a dozen or so Orcs, healthy and muscular young males for the most part, stay with you.  These are the hands that wanted to ship out on the GRACE.

"You from dha ship?" one asks.  "We wan' sail wit' you, sail 'way where dha win' takes us and there no Orc-catchers to hunt us.  We from the Makole-a-Utu tribe, we live by dha sea befo' we was slaves.  We knows dha Blue Lady an’ her ways.”


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## kenjib (Dec 8, 2003)

Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> He turns to go, but before he does, he snaps you a smart salute.
> 
> "You owe me a drink if we ever meet again, Vemuz."




"A bottle, no less...and mind what I said about tonight Quillen, as I'd sorely like to repay you some day."  A dark look crosses Vemuz' eyes.  With that Vemuz also turns from the scene and runs to catch up with Nicodemus and the orcs.


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## kenjib (Dec 8, 2003)

OOC:  By the way, Master & Commander is really great and inspiring for this campaign.  They also almost never dumb down any of the nautical and literary references, which was a daring but excellent move on the director's/producer's part.  Go see it!


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## Bob Aberton (Dec 9, 2003)

OOC:  Saw M&C the first weekend after it came out.  Awesome movie, definately the best nautical movie I've ever seen; the storm footage was even better than The Perfect Storm, and I agree with you on the nautical language; excellent move on the director's part.  I've got a copy of a naval officer's handbook originally printed in 1819, and the characters sometimes sounded like they were quoting it word-for-word.

By the way, have you read the books by Patrick O'Brian?  They're pretty good reads, though in my opinion the first few Horatio Hornblower books were somewhat better than the majority of the Patrick O'Brian books (Mr. Midshipman Hornblower, Lieutenant Hornblower, and Hornblower and the Hotspur being my favorites).


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## Uriel (Dec 9, 2003)

Grinning and saying to the Orcs 'You lot may be wishin ya had a Slaver fer a change once ya meet Mr. Lang!' C'mon, let's git outta here an back to the Ship,lads.'
 Laughing to himself at the thought of these tough orcs meeting the Sea fir the first time, hurling their lunch overboard, Nico ran as fast as his little dwarf legs could carry him, heading back to the _Grace_, Artimus in tow, running along and grinning at the orc lads.

OoC: Hoping to catch M&C wed night before bedding down and setting off bright and early for Gencon West on Thursday morn. BTW, I'll be gone from the 11th till the 15th.


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## dead_radish (Dec 9, 2003)

Zzzzzzzzzzzzz

(AKA: Still here  )


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## Tonguez (Dec 9, 2003)

> The older Orc who quieted his fellows back at the Auction House steps forward to speak to you.
> 
> "When Ah was Orcling, Ah live by de River, down in de Wild-Lands - de River deys call' 'Amarzun'. Ah had canoe, could paddle canoe. You want Ah should take de boats? You needs get back t'yar ship, you want I should take de boats up de river an' let de pointy-ears fin' us?"




"Who be y'name oldone?" Malachi grins at the orc elder "y'real name?" 

"we be takin' dhe boats n goin' up de rivar. Go fin' pointyears, _'Heet-Of-Ten-T'ousand-Oks'_ big mon belong dhem. Ah com wit'yu, til yu'all saf outta 'ere. Ah Com bak wen yu'all be saf

Le's go"


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## Bob Aberton (Dec 10, 2003)

Nicodemus,

When you and the Orcs reach the GRACE, you find Mr. Lang on anchor-watch.

"You're out rather late, Mr. Arfaliunium," he says by way of greeting.  "I hope you weren't carous...."  his voice trails off as he sees the Orcs.  

"Mr. Arfaliunium," he begins again, his voice even more frosty than ordinary.  "Have you turned slave-trader, or have you just..._purchased_ a crew?"

One of the Orcs, a tall well-built fellow by the name of Olaudah, chooses this moment to speak up.

"We no purchased - we's free Orcs.  We gon' work f'r wages, work 'board dis ship."

Mr. Lang's expression turns from frosty to reminiscent of a Cape Tempest gale.

"Mr. Arfaliunium, a word?  In private, if you please."

In the shadow of a companionway, he opens his mouth to give you one of his typical dressing-downs.

"Mr. Arfaliunium, just how did you come by these Orcs?  I have not thought there were above a handful of free Orcs in the Dim West and you turn up a dozen in this one small town?  A town, might I remind you, not known for its consideration of those of Orcish blood?  By Davy Jones, Mr. Arfaliunium, I cannot, _cannot_ take refugees or escaped slaves on this vessel.  Not only is it highly illegal, but the Standishtown courts have been known to confiscate the cargoes of vessels carrying such 'free Orcs,' even to the extent of jailing those involved - which, might I remind you, would include all the officers and most of the crew of this vessel.

No, sir, you know damned well what you must do.  Go out there and tell those Orcs - I don't know, tell them whatever you damned well wish, but _get them away from this ship!_  We cannot afford to be found harboring escapees at this time, or ever, for that matter, and I do not care if you think the law is unjust.  A law is a law, and I will not risk the success of this voyage for a handful of ex-slaves."

As Mr. Lang continues in this vein for some time, you hear movement in the companionway, and the Captain appears in a dressing gown, blinking sleep out of his eyes and squinting at you in the light of a candle.

"Thought someone was gettin' a tongue-lashin'.  What's goin' on, eh?  An' why's there a crowd of Orcs sittin' on the docks out there?"

Malachi,

"De humans, dey calls me "Joseph," but when Ah was Orcling, my real name was Oshente, from dha Banti-Nyamba tribe."

The Orcs set to casting loose warps and docklines, and within a few moments Standishtown is stricken with a strange lack of watercraft.

You lead your makeshift flotilla, with "Joseph" Oshente as second-in-command, upriver, but you do not get far before warning arrows begin whistling over your heads.  The Orcs cower down on the bottom boards of rowboats and keg rafts and cover their heads for the most part, although Oshente and some of the more spirited Orcs stand up and wave their fists and oars in defiance.

Soon, the banks of the river are swarming with elves, suddenly appearing from behind bush, tree, and rock, all armed, and looking very tense.  You recognize Heart-of-Ten-Thousand-Oaks among them.  He calls out to you.

"Have you come, then, with an army to destroy us?  I thought better of you, shaman of She who the Standishtowners call Calypso."


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## Tonguez (Dec 10, 2003)

"Dhen Oshente, a Banti-Nyamba be yu name. Our Peopol be free naw, yu be de won kep dhem t'gether, mak dhem strong. Dhe old ones kep dem wit' co'rage. Dhem younguns kep dhem wise. Yu Savy?"



> Soon, the banks of the river are swarming with elves, suddenly appearing from behind bush, tree, and rock, all armed, and looking very tense. You recognize Heart-of-Ten-Thousand-Oaks among them. He calls out to you.
> 
> "Have you come, then, with an army to destroy us? I thought better of you, shaman of She who the Standishtowners call Calypso."




"We no frien' a clamdiggars!" Malachi stands up and calls back to the Grugach chieftain, a fierce look in his eyes but his hands held wide making himself an easy target and showing that he carries no weapons.

"Clamdiggers be en'mies a my peopol, mak dem slaves. Naw dey be free, we com n' join yu an' kill de clamdiggars. Orc be freind t' grugach!

We com ashore - no wep-ons?"

He stands still waiting the elfs reply and silently praying that Calypso still stands with him


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## dead_radish (Dec 10, 2003)

OOC: So, does Malthas notice the commotion?


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## Bob Aberton (Dec 11, 2003)

Malthas,

The characteristically sharp voice of Mr. Lang cuts through your pleasant dreams of ale and small women; you can catch the words "Mr. Arfaliunium" and "escapees."  The Ship's Mage is apparently getting a dressing-down for something or other.


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## Uriel (Dec 11, 2003)

OoC:Ack, need to go to sleep, off to Gencn West tomorrow, until Monday.

IC: Nico listens to Mr. Lang quietly, and (when there is a chance to speak, he will). 'I see and agree with everything that you be'a'sayin, mr Lang, but hear me out. Those orcs there aren't escapees, as you have said, but kidnapped members of a free-tribe from the islands. They wasn't indentured, or debters, er any o'the rest of acceptable ways that folks acquire other folks as propeerty...' Nico spite out a porthole to show his disgust at this'They was kidnapped when they wuz just pups, fer the most part. They has families and Kin on the Islands. Hell, some o'em might be Malachi's Folk. Now I know that this don't sit well wit _Law_ as you unnerstand it, an' I understand yer point of view. _However_, these Folk had Laws o'there own thet wuz violated when the Slavers kidnapped em. I fer one won't sit an'let Good Folk, of any Creed, rot away in an undeserved Prison, when their only crime wuz ta be livin' on the wrong island when the cowardly Slavers came-a-callin.'alming, Nico says (after a blown out breath) Now I know thet what wuz done this night wuz wrong in the laws of Standishtown, but by Calypso's Foamy Bosom, Damn Their Laws! If'n ye ever worked a Ship with an Orc, ya nows that there ain't any who kin haul an anchor, or a big marlin, fer thet matter affer he's been harpooned, or bail water as strongly as a an Orc.I'll go without pay if'n thet's the problem, as will Malachi, I'm sure, to make sure that the larder an the Paybox isn't overtaxed to make room fer these Orcs.Now, things is a bit late fer changin naow, an the Standishtowners'll be up'n arms quick, so I suggest we get's the Hell outta this clamdigger's hole and set sail fer ports new and less like the bilge of a rat-infested derelict, fer thet's what i think of when I think Standishtown. I am ready fer whatever punishments come my way, an I will take them like an officer and a Gentlman, with nothin but respect fer you Mr. lang and fer the Captain, fer I know you do need to keep _Law_ and all.'

Nicodemus stands awaiting his punishment, cap in hands Arti sheepishly doffing his cap in a like manner while crouching on the back of a chair.


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## dead_radish (Dec 12, 2003)

Malthas remembers what Malachai was about tonight, and grins, dressing quickly.  He speaks his thoughts aloud in amusement.  'Unless I miss my guess, poor Mr. Mage will be needing a bit of help straightening things with Mr. Lang."  He grins again, and runs out of the cabin, looking for the altercation.


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## Bob Aberton (Dec 14, 2003)

Vemuz & Nicodemus,

If you can look closely you can observe a small vein pulsing in Mr. Lang's throat.  His jaw is set so tight that had he not strong teeth, they would have shattered from the pressure several minutes ago.

"You gentlemen & Mr. Legba seem to delight in putting me in impossible situations; even in the Navy we never had so many 'loose cannons' in one vessel.  Very well; we shall keep the crew, but only because we are desparately short of hands - I suppose it is too much to hope that these Orcs know anything of the working of a square-rigged merchantman?

As for your punishments; Mr. Arfaliunium, confined to quarters until myself or Captain McCrenshaw informs you otherwise. Mr. Thriceborn; docked a month's pay, and you lose your fast passage bonus - the second half of your punishment will be making those Orcs into anything like proper able-seamen.  I expect them to perform to the highest standards of the merchant service before we make port in Port Andorra, and they will be drilled in great-gun and small arms drills by Mr. Marper and Mr. Swifthand, respectively.  Good evening to you, gentlemen."

He replaces his hat on his head and marches away with those rigidly precise strides that a _huricano_, as the Espirantish call it, couldn't jar him from.

The Captain lingers for a few moments.

"Now, gentlemen, much as I might agree with y'r views, an' much as I'm grateful to y' for procurin' a crew, I must agree with Mr. Lang's opinion on your actions.  Your punishments stand, except that I'm reinstatin' y'r fast passage bonuses - got t' give y' some sort o' incentive, after all.  I won't be countermandin' Mr. Lang's judgements this time - want to leave th' poor fellow some sort o' authority after all - but I wouldn't expect t' stay long in y'r quarters, Mr. Arfaliunium, an' if we make a fast passage, Mr. Thriceborn, y'r bonus should pay for th' loss of the next month's wages.  Evenin' gentlemen, we sail with the mornin' tide, or as soon as Mr. Legba returns."

Malthas,

You hear all of the above goings-on.

Malachi,

"Ah lead our Peopol, Malachi Greatchief, Ah lead our Peopol well.  Dis forest not so diff'runt from Wild Lands; we make dis place home, we grow strong.  We pass on de wisdom of dha Great Fathers, an' Stan'shtown's day gon' come, an' a bloody day it'll be," Oshente replies proudly; he wears his white hairs in an under-chieftain's braids already.

Heart-of-Ten-Thousand-Oaks looks cautiously hopeful.

"You bring allies, shaman?  Allies of Brethren?  You come ashore, and your under-chief with you, no weapons.  Then, we talk."


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## dead_radish (Dec 15, 2003)

Malthas' grin threatens to split his face open as he listens.  "Well, Mr. Thriceborn.  You've secured a crew, driven Mr. Lang to distraction, and almost gotten that scurvy monkey contained to quarters."  He winks at Artimus.  He then looks around.  "And where's that giant lug of a navigator?  Did he find himself a fine fetter of a female friend for flirtation?"


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## kenjib (Dec 15, 2003)

Vemuz replies to the captain before he leaves.  "Thank you captain.  Mr. Lang and yourself will not regret your decision to allow the new hands on board.  I shall make sure of it."

Vemuz grins at Malthas after hearing his comments.  "Malachi is seeing the others out to meet Heart-of-Ten-Thousand-Oaks and then he'll be right back.  He found himself a right couple score of friends...but none too pretty if you ask me.  As for the monkey, well, there's a fair stretch of a journey ahead of us yet!"  He chuckles, then turns to head toward the new hands.

Vemuz paces the deck before the orcs as he stares them, one after another, directly in the eye, standing to his full height and girth, equally imposing as that of the large half-orcs.  "Alright you, I've risked my neck for you and expect you to work hard in return.  I did it because I'll be damned before I let a clamdigger on board my ship, not as an act of charity, so don't expect an easy break on this ship.  You're to pull your regular shift every day, and then pull a second shift training with me or one of the others.  You'll have to catch what sleep you can, and trust me there won't be much of it.  There'll be time enough for sleeping when you've pearls for eyes at the bottom of the briny deep, so for now I need you to watch carefully, learn quickly, and show the captain that you can, each of you, do the work of two men at least.

"You could have headed up river with the others, so you've chosen to do this work and I'm going to hold you to it.  Just remember that at the end of the day, all of this work you do, all of your sweat, tears, and blood, is yours.  It does not belong to the captain.  It does not belong to me.  It does not belong to the ship, and when you get paid your wages the profit of your endeavors will fall squarely in your own hands to do with as you please.

"You are free men now, and I expect each one of you to prove to me that you deserve it.  You owe me at least this much for what I've done for you.  You are to call me 'sir.'  You are to call all of the officers 'sir,' and you are to show all of us respect and obedience.  This you do by your choice, not by laws of ownership.  However, if you choose not to do these things, then you have chosen to suffer the punishments as per the articles of this ship, which will be explained to you in due time.  I truly hope, however, that we will not need to resort to such."

Noting once again the sorry state that the orcs are in, filthy, dishevelled, and dressed in rags, Vemuz continues.  "Now all of you, come with me and we shall see about securing bunks and provisions.  You can't bloody well sail a ship dressed like that."

Vemuz turns sharply, without allowing any of them a chance to reply, and leads the new crewmates below decks where he will attempt to procure what clothing he can and bunks for them to sleep in.


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## Tonguez (Dec 15, 2003)

"We com talk" Malachi replies to the elf in a direct matter of fact tone "no wep-on"

"Naw w' gonna see" Malachi grins back at Oshente, the role of chieftain is not one he desires though it is not too diffrent to being a ships officer, silently he wishes that Malthas was with him to do the talking. 
"Yu good fer talkin'?" he asks Oshente "Me-yu go shore, talk dhem Grugach.
Dhe peopol stop n'boat, we be fren' t'Grugach. Dhey strong, dhey be fren' to dhe Peopol 'ganst clamdiggar. Mebbe giv yu land call hom.

Yu tell dhe peopol"

The Half-orc navigator stands still in the boat then listening to Oshente give instructions to the others and hopefully get the boat to shore so that the pair can land and talk with Heart-of-Ten-Thousand-Oaks.

"Calypso halp ye mon ah pray" he whispers under his breath and wonders at what is happening back on the Calypso's Grace and when and _if_ he will get back to it...


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## dead_radish (Dec 15, 2003)

Malthas nods approvingly to himself as Vemuz speaks, then follows along with the new crew - if he's going to be training them as well, he'd best take their measure.  He scampers a bit ahead, catching up to Vemuz as he heads down.

"A right touching speech that was.  If were not already on board, I'da swum the seas myself to ride on this boat, Mr. Thriceborn.  If I'm ta be training them in small arms, we'd best work out a schedule of some sort - I'd prefer smaller groups - perhaps 6 at a time, but I'll need to meet them all first, to judge their skill.  Whenever you feel ready to begin, I'm your man.  I'd imagine you can find me easily enough."  He then leans back to watch the orcs get settled in, helping where he can.


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## Uriel (Dec 17, 2003)

Bowing to his punishment (and agreeing that he deserved it as well), Nicodemus heads for his cabin, content to begin his next batch of scrolls,ungeants and the other various alchemical devices that the ship required to keep it's edge over the competition. before, he moves abovedecks to recover the smokesticks,alchemical fire and other items given to his two 'conspirators' during the freeing of the orcs, stowing them away in their cabnet.

OoC:Bob could you let me know what remains of the things that i gave them just before we entered the Slave-House? Thanks.


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## Bob Aberton (Dec 17, 2003)

Malachi,

The boat nudges into the bank and you and Oshente go ashore.  The rest of the Orcs pole or row their craft closer to shore, out of the strongest current, and hold them there, slowly plying quants or oars.

Heart---- looks Oshente and the others over appraisingly.

"You are shaman, holy man, so I trust your word," the elven chieftain says to you.  "You are their chief, and this is your _mikko_?  Your people will aid us greatly.  We will give you land by the river, to each family, we will give land for the planting of _maize_ and squash.  We will teach your people the ways of the forest..."

At this, Oshente breaks in:

"Our Peopol knows dha way of dha forest - "

" - The way of your forest, _mikko_.  We will teach you the ways of our forest.  Your people in their turn will aid us against the Men of Standishtown.  Give your word on behalf of your people that this friendship will not cause them grief, and we will accept them with open arms.  If you or your people betray our trust, we are far greater in number than they, and our vengeance will be such that their grandchildren's grandchildren will weep to hear of it."

Nicodemus,

(OOC:  All of the alchemical items you gave Vemuz, you recover, except for the two Alchemist's Fires you gave to Artimus to raise hell.  Malachi still has his, so you won't get them back until his return to the GRACE.)

Vemuz,

As you go below to find the slop-chest to fit the new hands with proper gear, you hear them raise a hearty cheer behind you.

"T'ree cheers for dha CALYPSO'S GRACE, an' t'ree more for dha Bo'sun!"  One of them shouts, and he is heartily answered.

In a quarter of an hour, the Orcs are fitted with new slop-trousers, striped jerseys, neckerchiefs, and sea-boots, already looking something like proper seamen.

Malthas,

The new hands are all fairly young, and exceedingly strong-looking.  To an Orc, they look like they could de-ballast the GRACE single-handedly.  You have a feeling they will be holy terrors with good steel in hand.


(OOC Anyone:  Does anyone know how it to find the old thread, if it's even possible?  I just realized I don't have a copy of the Ship's Articles for the CALYPSO'S GRACE on my computer...  )


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## Uriel (Dec 17, 2003)

OoC
http://www.enworld.org/forums/showthread.php?t=29114

There you go Bob. I just looked at the first post in DW&S II and went back in the forums, you haveto reset to the last year etc...


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## Uriel (Dec 17, 2003)

OoC:Found Them...Argh!!!!!!!!!

"SHIP'S ARTICLES
of the Well Found Vessel CALYPSO'S GRACE, outward bound, Captain Roger Tarheel McCrenshaw commanding. Year of the Progress 302 GP.

TERMS & SALARIES

Ship's Boy.......................................................6 gp/month

Able-Bodied Seaman......................................13 gp/month

Deck Officer (Bosun, 
Bosun's Mate, Carpenter, 
Sailmaker, Surgeon, Master Gunner, etc.)......20 gp/month

Ship's Officer (First Mate,
Second Mate, Third Mate, 
Navigator, Pilot, and Ship's
Mage)..............................................................75 gp/month

The Crew will additionally recieve shares in the voyage at the following rates.

Ship's Boy...........................1%

Able-Bodied Seaman..........5%

Deck Officer........................10%

Ship's Officer......................25% (a Quarter Share)

Should a profit be made, the Crew is to recieve a Bonus based on the above Rates. The same system is to be used for calculating bonuses for an Exceedingly Fast Passage.

The Crew will additionally pay out of their Own Pockets for any gear which they do not already possess (clothing, foul-weather gear, knives, weapons, slop-chests, and the etc.)

Signed:

James Lang, First Mate

John Ames, Second Mate

William Steward, Third Mate

_____________, Fourth Mate

Malachi Legba, Navigator

Malthas Swifthand, Pilot

(Vemuz Thrice-born), Pilot's Mate

Nicodemus Arfaliunium, Ship's Mage

Bimzoole Marper, Master Gunner

Kirah Weaver, Sailmaker

Aleford Jones, Carpenter

Vemuz Thrice-born, Bosun

Xanaphia Silvershell, Surgeon

"Jonah," Supercargo

Ben Stern, Able-bodied Seaman

John Sout, Able-bodied Seaman

Luc d'Erville, Able-bodied Seaman

Ishmael Jamison, Able-bodied Seaman

Lupe Sanchez, Able-bodied Seaman

Lem Harvey, Able-bodied Seaman

Jean Orleau, Able-bodied Seaman

Arthur Orville, Able-bodied Seaman

Ellis Stout, Ship's Boy

ROGER TARHEEL McCRENSHAW, MASTER

(OOC: I know that the sailor's wages might seem a little low, but I based them off RL sailor's wages. I'll change prices of goods and such to reflect that, so don't worry about that.

Also, some advice: "Surgeon" would be a good post for a healer type, say, Xanaphia. Or, at a pinch, Malachi.

"Bosun" would best be some big, tough character who can keep order on the ship. Vemuz or maybe Malthas would be a good choice for that post. 

There need to be at least two pilots, so they can alternate shifts, so whoever has ranks in Profession Pilot should sign up for that.

Likewise any two people with Profession Navigator should sign up for Navigator.

Both Nicodemus and Bimzoole are obvious shoo-ins for Ship's Mage. You might even persuade McCrenshaw that he needs two such characters.

"Fourth Mate" should be the best all around sailor among the characters. The Fourth Mate should also be able to navigate, and maybe even pilot a little, in addition to being a good seaman. 

Sort it out amongst yourselves. Remember, any characters with Profession Sailor will also be expected to go aloft to handle the sails, help man the pumps and capstan, etc. So the Bosun, Pilots, and Fourth Mate, possibly the Navigator as well will be expected to fill ordinary 'tar's' duties as well as their own especial duties. Vemuz, I listed you as Pilot's Mate [i.e. the backup pilot, if you don't mind], because I know that you have some ranks in Profession Pilot.)

__________________


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## kenjib (Dec 17, 2003)

Vemuz carefully conceals a proud smile as he sees the orcs dressed sharply and ready to learn the ropes.  "Get some sleep while you can.  We will be shipping out at the earliest possible chance, and then the work begins."  He turns to follow his own advice, hoping to catch a few hours of sleep before Malachi returns.


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## Tonguez (Dec 17, 2003)

Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> Malachi,
> 
> The boat nudges into the bank and you and Oshente go ashore.  The rest of the Orcs pole or row their craft closer to shore, out of the strongest current, and hold them there, slowly plying quants or oars.
> 
> ...




"_Ah t'ank ya chee'f_" Malachi nods to the elf "_By dhe Lady Calypso me word be true. Dhes peopol belong-me, but Oshente be speaking fer dhe peopol_."

Malachi then turns and looks to the older orc "_Words belong-hem be fair Oshente, an be tru t'ing, dhes forest be dif'rent t' dhe sout'_. 

_Ah got get bak t'me ship, yo be Pikifela, Big mon belong dhem-peopol. Yu giv ya word an' Ah hav faith dhat Hart-o-Ten-T'ousand-Oak be true.

Yu mak dhe peopol strong, work dhe land, learn dhem nu wais, an' dhen clamdiggars gunna pay! 

Yu savvy? Giv dhe word o dhe peopol an' dhem fathers befor'em? 

Dhes ya best chanse t'live free_"


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## dead_radish (Dec 17, 2003)

Malthas shakes his head watching them.  *This is going to be...interesting.  It's a good thing that I'm not the ship's arms-master - I might lose that job right quick.*

OOC: Bob - check the ooc thread.


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## Bob Aberton (Dec 20, 2003)

Malachi,

Oshente nods solemnly.

"I be Pikifela, I watch over dha People."

He turns to Heart-of-Ten-Thousand-Oaks.  Taking a handful of river mud in his left hand, he holds out his right; a young Orc steps closer, holding out a sharp piece of flint.  Oshente gashes right palm on the flint and mingles his blood with the river mud.

"Ah swear on behalf of my People, Ah swears on Earth an' I swears on blood, dat Ah an' my People be true.  We will help you, aid you an' yo' 'gainst de Standishtown-folk.  Naw harm be comin' or ever will com' to you t'rough us."

Heart---- watches silently.  When Oshente finishes, he reaches into his belt and draws his own flint knife, a marvel of craftsmanship.  He gashes his right palm, as Oshente had done, and clasps the hand of the Orc.

"We brothers now, _mikko_ of the Free Folk, blood brothers until death.  Our peoples shall be friends until the River runs dry and all the trees fallen and the bones of the Mother are sundered."


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## Bob Aberton (Dec 25, 2003)

Vemuz,

At about 6 o'clock the next morning, you are woken by the Second Mate, Mr. Ames.

"Pipe 'all hands to unmoor,' Mr. Thriceborn, the wind is fair an' the tide's in our favor.  Captain's itching to get our offing," he says.

All Others,

Around 6 o'clock the next morning, you are woken by the shrilling of the Bosun's pipe and Mr. Thriceborn's voice roaring the age old bosun's call;

"Show a leg, show a leg, all hands on deck!"

The ship suddenly comes alive as officers and sailors stampede up the fo'c'sle and after companionways; the wind is fair and the CALYPSO'S GRACE herself strains at her mooring warps, anxious to get out to sea.

The Captain is pacing the quarterdeck, glancing aloft at the sails and in good spirits, though the previous night's celebration cannot have left him much of a restful sleep.

Mr. Lang is at his place on the fo'c'sle, surveying the crew, and particularly the new Orcish hands, with his customary severity.

Captain McCrenshaw calls out to Mr. Lang in the traditional address to the first officer on sailing day,

"D'ye see any reason we should not put to sea?"

Mr. Lang replies with the equally traditional answer;

"I do not, sir."

"Very well," the Captain says, and with a voice that could stun a hurricane, he calls: "Mr. Lang, unmoor the ship!"

Mr. Lang immediately snaps out his orders;

"Mr. Ames, let fall fore, main, and mizzen topsails.  Sheet home and hoist.  Stand by headsails and fore topmast staysail."

"Mr. Thriceborn, cast off.  Pipe hands to man the capstan and warp her off"

The Captain turns to the helmsman.  

"Mr. Swifthand, ease the helm down an' put the wind on her quarter."

(OOC:  Could someone give me a link to the OOC thread?  I know my forum incompetence must get frustrating, but I can't find the thread.  And I have looked in Talking the Talk.  Again, sorry about my forum ignorance, I hope it's not getting on anyone's nerves or anything...)


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## Uriel (Dec 26, 2003)

OoC:I posted a link to the OoC in the 1st post of this page, Bob.

I assume that Nico is still confined to Quarters? I sure as heck don't want to come out just to run rigging if I'm suppossed to be below on _Punishment_. 
I will, of course, go above and do my part if that is accepted with the Punishment.
Besides, I need to make some scrolls....

_Spells for today_
Cantrips:Mending X2,Mage Hand,Detect Magic
First:Animate Rope,True Strike,Magic Missile,Color Spray
2nd:Alter Self,Invisibility,Locate Object.

IC
Down below, amidst the cursing and hooting of an irate monkey,_things_ were happening. Sailors moved past in fera,for something _unexpected_ could happen at any moment. They had seen the Ship's Mage grow gills and fins, bring rope to life and mend hours worth of sail in a moment. besides, the sign on the door was enough to scare even the most foolhardy of men. A simple script proclaiming: _Do Not Disturb:Wizard at Work._

OoC: Making Magic Missile Scroll @3rd Level.
I can make one scroll per day and will make others in this order:
Cat's Grace @1st.Mage Armor@3rd,Magic Missile @3rd,Detect Magic @1st,Invisibility @3rd,True Strike @1st.

That is a week's worth of scrolls. I'll go back and find the post where I bought supplies for scrolls, Bob, so as to make the math work.I believe it will take 21 XP and 262.5 GP. I know I have that in supplies, and hopefully I have earned 21XP so far


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## dead_radish (Dec 26, 2003)

Malthas grins, and nods happily - not that he's typically fairly downcast, but now that they are setting sail again, his sights are clearly set on the journey ahead, and he's grinning like a ninny as he spins the wheel.

"Aye sir, and glad ta do it!"

OOC: I have managed to completely lose the ooc thread now as well.  Maybe it cycled off, or maybe I unsub'ed to it.  Hmmm.  Basically, I was wondering if the "Compensate for Size" feat from AU would be acceptable for Malthas eventually, and if anyone was keeping track of XP for the game.


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## Bob Aberton (Dec 26, 2003)

(OOC All:  Actually, with regards to XP, I have to make a confession...I haven't really been keeping track of it, much.  Which is to say, I haven't kept track of it at all.

I don't know if anyone's noticed, but I tend to be an "on the fly" DM, and the fact that messageboard games leave me a whole day to think of something only makes this worse.

I never take notes or plan ahead at all.  Practically all [with the exception of very important encounters, etc.] encounters I make up on the spot.  So far, this doesn't appeared to have hurt anyone's enjoyment of this game, but it is a problem when it comes to handing out XP.

Looking back over the various encounters, combat & otherwise - and I said that I would give XP for non-combat encounters as well, such as the rescue of Lupe Sanchez in the storm in the first stage of the GRACE's voyage to Standishtown.  I will also give XP for roleplaying, which has been excellent thus far.

I would say, that everyone should add 1500 XP to their character sheets.  You'll probably all level up before this next stage of the voyage is over.

Does that sound fair?  I know I've been really slipshod about XP, so I don't want anyone feeling cheated; but at the same time this isn't a high-powered game & I don't want it to advance at warp speed either.  I'd just like to add that I really like how the game has been progressing, and I don't want to attach too much importance to XP and advancement at the expense of roleplaying.  Feel free to complain if you feel it's unfair, of course.)


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## dead_radish (Dec 26, 2003)

OOC: Works just fine for me.    It took me until now to realize that we hadn't been getting it, and I was mainly curious to gauge how you thought we were doing.    PbP really shines in RP, for the most part.  And yeah, I've enjoyed it up to here.


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## Uriel (Dec 26, 2003)

OoC: I've had a great time RPing, and didn't really give much thought either way to gaining a Level. At this point, I run 6 PbP games with varying degrees of advancement (2 of them have had the characters advance 2 levels each from 6th-8th and from 10th-12th). I dont have a set schedule for advancement, I just dole out the CR Exp and then a healthy bonus for problem solving and RP.
So, whatever system you use(or don't use), I OK with it.
I just figured that  21 XP (for week 1,anyways) wouldn't be a problem.
When Nico makes Level 5, look out! I'm taking Craft Wand....


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## Tonguez (Dec 27, 2003)

(what XP? I was having too much fun to notice. So yeah just let me know when I level and keep the fun rolling in...)

Malachi remains a while as the orcs come ashore and begin to mingle with grugach - a strange sight to behold these two savage races coming together.
The Half-Orc offers prayers to Calypso calling on her blessings and protection for these people of the forest and river. 

Various things transpire before he silently takes his leave. He leaves the weapons and equipment given by the Dwarf behind and vowing that he will one day return or at least send aid takes one of the boats and steers it back down the river.

Malachi intends to avoid all contact with the city if he can help it going as far as he can along the river before turning into the harbour and reaching the Calypso Grace from the water...


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## Bob Aberton (Dec 28, 2003)

(OOC Malachi:  I've juggled the timeline a little bit, and you returned to the GRACE just before she unmoored and set sail.)

All,

With the new Orcish hands "breasting the bars," the capstan whirls like a toy top to the tune of "Captain Stormalong" and the CALYPSO'S GRACE slowly points her bowsprit seaward.

"Ol' Stormy he is dead an' gone,

*To me way, hey, Stormy!*

Ol' Stormy he is dead an' gone,

*Ay! Ay! Ay! Mister Stormalong*

Of all ol' skippers he was the best,

*To me way, hey, Stormy!*"

Meanwhile, the original 8 able seamen scramble aloft, 3 to the foremast, 3 to the mainmast, and 2 to the mizzenmast, accompanied by the Second and Third mates.

The carpenter, sailmaker, cook, and four Orcs tail onto the halyards and sheets.

Topsails are let fall, sheeted home, and hoisted, bellying out in the fresh breeze.  The GRACE strains at her one remaining mooring warp, anxious to be free of the jetty.

"Cast us off, Mr. Lang, an' make sail," the Captain shouts to Mr. Lang.  Mr. Lang salutes, and a dockworker on shore casts off the last mooring warp.

Free of the land, the GRACE glides towards the channel, slowly at first, then picking up speed as her fore - and mainsails are let fall and her topgallant sails set.

Like a dignified woman picking up her skirts, the GRACE lets her sails belly out and a curl of foam appears under the cutwater.

She quickens her pace, rolling and pitching a bit as she passes the Standishtown Shoals with all sails set.

It's good to be at sea again.


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## kenjib (Dec 28, 2003)

As the orcs bring her so quickly around, Vemuz grins.  He paces the deck, barking small reminders to the crew and taking special care to make sure that the orcs don't make any foolish mistakes.  If such happens, he hopes to be right on top of them before anyone notices.

As the ships passes the Standishtown docks, he quickly and inconspicuously looks back one last time to see if any of the townfolk seems to have an overly abundant interest in the ship leaving port.


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## Xael (Dec 28, 2003)

OOC: Umm... hello. I know I haven't posted here since page 5, but uhh... Yeah. I'm sorry for the absence, but I just couldn't figure really anything for Jonah to do after his return to the ship. And then It just kinda became too late when everybody was elsewhere freeing slaves so... Sorry.

I'm curious if I'm still in the game...


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## Bob Aberton (Dec 28, 2003)

(OOC Jonah:  No worries there, you're still in the game.  Sorry about your not having anything to do for a while...I'm trying to think of more ways to involve a character who is essentially a landsmen in shipboard adventure.  Perhaps you could be part of the gun crews or something, if the GRACE encounters pirates.  Your cartography skills will come in handy closer to shore, too.  And of course, you're the only one on the ship who can read Lupe Sanchez's map (it's written in Drow), if you recall about that.  Sorry if you're feeling a bit useless.  Perhaps when you level up, you should put a few skill points into Profession: Sailor or something like that...)

Vemuz,

As the jetty slowly fades into the distance, you do notice that there is a small commotion on the docks.  But the people are no more than black specks, and the GRACE is far out of reach of any shore-based craft.

Meanwhile, and of more pressing concern, you notice a number of sloppy attempts at belaying lines draped over the belaying pins.  Some look like they'll slip any minute, and others look like they'll jam under strain so that they won't be loosened without a knife.  The excess line isn't coiled either, it sits in untidy heaps under the belaying pins.  Even as you look, the foretopsail halyard slips a quarter of an inch, jams, and then slips another quarter of an inch.

The Orcs have never sailed something as large and complex as the full-rigged GRACE, and their inexperience is showing.


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## dead_radish (Dec 28, 2003)

Double post. Nothing to see.


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## dead_radish (Dec 28, 2003)

Malthas blinks as the normally responsive and graceful ship slips a bit, struggling against his hand on the wheel.  He looks around curiously, then shrugs.


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## Uriel (Dec 28, 2003)

And down below a small explosion is followed by curses so vile that a Sea hag would blanch. Screms of 'Artimus, you blasted Ninny! I should have let that Leopard eat you!!!' are followed by a soot-covered Monkey scrambling out of a porthole, up the side of the ship (on his little window-rope), winking and pantomiming vomiting at one of the poor seasick orcs a moment before winking again and disappearing up into the rigging to rest finally in his _other_ home,the Crow's nest. _With_ the cookies, mind you...


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## kenjib (Dec 29, 2003)

Vemuz grabs one of the seasoned hands nearby, and also one of the orcs.  "You, take this man up the fore and make sure he knows well how to tie the topsail halyard by the time it's fixed."

He then grabs another orc.  "Come with me."  Vemuz takes him around the deck to the belaying lines.  Tersely barking orders to fix each one, repeated until perfect.

_*Alright, these training shifts are going to be gruelling for the orcs.  I'll see to that...*_


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## Tonguez (Dec 29, 2003)

The Navigator stood back at let Vemuz work with the Orcs as the many thoughts danced through his own mind. In the still relatively shallow water his task was slightly easier than it would be once land was no longer near, though he still took his bearings and triangulated the ships position and set from the available landmarks.

He was glad to be away from Standishtown and back on the sea again. Nonetheless he worried for the future of the People and their new Grugach allies, he would need to Trust in Calypso and the ancestors that the People would survive.

He was thankful too, as he looked out over the deck from his post at the stern, that the Captain was a good fair man that had allowed his Navigator such leeway and kept the new orc crewman to stay. 

In the early morning sun the Half-Orc navigator gave a broad yawn, it had been a busy night and he would not to get proper rest before the difficulty of the open sea returned

Finishing his main tasks he goes to the captain to ask leave to rest before his real job begins...


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## Bob Aberton (Dec 31, 2003)

Vemuz,

Ben Stern, the crew's nominal chanty-man and commonly accepted as the best seaman aboard comes down from the rigging, having completed the overhaul of a frayed clewline on the maintopgallant sail.

"Beg pardon, sir, but there's some chafin' on the lee maintopgallant brace that'll need some seein' to, an' if y' don't mind my sayin' so the shrouds on all three masts seem a bit slack t' me."

He grins at the Orcs, who are looking distinctly "green at the gills."

"What cheer, mates," he says easily.  "If you're goin' t' be chummin' fer the sharks, be good fellows an' do it over the lee rail, would ye?  Now then, 'bout this here foretopsail halyard, the one who belayed this must be all thumbs, beggin' pardon.  Here, loose thet an' tail on, we've got t' sweat it up a little."

He pulls the pin out of its hole, releasing the tangled knot, and the three Orcs who had command of the foretopsail halyard "tally on" to the fall.

"My name it is Dan-Dan...

*Heave![/I]

A sailorman I am...

Heave![/I]

Somebody took my rum...

Heave

Thet no-good son-of-a-gun

Heave!"

The foretopsail yard slowly returns to its proper perch, and Stern sets about instructing the Orcs in the proper way of belaying a line.

"Now, then, mates, ye do it like this...well, damn my eyes, how d'yer expect me t' teach ye when ye're all at th' lee rail?  Alright, finished chummin' fer sharks, eh?  Right, then, ye take the line, an' ye put over the pin, under the pin, make a loop, slip thet over th' pin, an'...oh, Davy Jones take yer, the sea ain't thet bad; give thet poor lee rail a rest, will yer? Now, coil the fall like so..."

Now that the GRACE is feeling the first heave of the ocean swell, the remaining Orcs line up at the lee rail and almost to a man commence "chummin' fer sharks."

The few not struck by seasickness gather in a small knot abaft the foremast.  Their old slave instincts take hold, upon hearing you are not pleased with their knot-tying, and some cower as though they expect to be beaten.

They are relieved to find they are not, although a few surreptiously massage their fingers, having been made to retie lines three or even four times.  Finally, though, they seem to be getting the hang of it, and a pair of Orcs, lithe and darker-skinned and not as bulky as the others, take it upon themselves to inspect the remaining hitches, correcting mistakes they find without resorting to your instruction.

Malachi,

"Aye, y' can go below," the Captain says amiably.  “Why don’t y’ set our course, while ye’re down with yer charts, Mr. Legba.”

(OOC:  Profession: Navigator check to set the proper  course, please…)  

He appears much more at ease on this voyage than he had on the start from Hull on the previous voyage.  Perhaps this could be attributed partially to your solving his manpower problems.

As you go below, you catch a glimpse of Vemuz, barking orders in true boatswain style, at a small knot of Orcs, herding them from belaying pin to belaying pin; under his beady eye the Orcs tie and then retie the hitches in the lines.

The greater number of Orcs, however, far from learning the correct way of tying a belaying-hitch, are lined up at the lee rail, giving up their offerings to the gods of seasickness.

Nicodemus,

As you sit in your cabin and work with your mysterious substances (the sailors giving your quarters a very wide berth), you hear a knock at the door.

Malthas,

You hear Vemuz barking orders up forward, by the foremast, there is flurry of activity among the Orcs, and then you feel the GRACE easy back into her usual gentle, rolling motion, no longer fighting the hand on her helm.  It appears as though the boatswain has corrected the problem, whatever it was.*


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## dead_radish (Dec 31, 2003)

Malthas grins happily.  When the ship is happy, he is happy.  He whistles along to the "shantyman" such as he is, gazing out to sea.  He trusts the crew to do what needs to be done.  There's something about sailing this ship, as much as any he's boarded, that seems right - problems are fixed, seas are clear, and the wind and salt in his hair feel as good as they ever have.

OOC: Yes, I am setting us up to explode. Muahahahahaha.


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## Uriel (Dec 31, 2003)

Looking up in annoyance from his scribing, Nicodemus yells 'Wizard at Werk, 'ere' can ye'not read the Sigh!?!'


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## Tonguez (Jan 2, 2004)

Malachi grins to himself as he goes below - the orcs were a gamble but one he is glad he took.

He takes out the charts when he gets to quarters checking the route and setting what ought to be the quickest course considering the prevailing winds and set of the sea. He makes a few calculations makes his reccomendations and then lays down to rest...

(_Navigation Roll 14 +9 = 23_)


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## Bob Aberton (Jan 7, 2004)

(OOC:  BUMP.  Sorry about my prolonged absence, I've been a bit busy.  I'm just putting this back on the first page so as to give Vemuz a chance to post, but in any case I'll have the DM Post up no later than tomorrow.)


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## kenjib (Jan 7, 2004)

"You two."  Vemuz addresses the two orcs who took the initiative to check the lines unbidden.  "What are your names?  Excellent work."  He then addresses the rest of the orcs.  "All of you, good work but there's much more to learn and little time.  Keep alert!"


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## Bob Aberton (Jan 8, 2004)

Vemuz,

The taller of the two answers for both of them.

"De master, he used to call me 'Obediah,' when he didn' call me lazy crowbait, Mr. Thriceborn.  Dis fellow, he's my brother, he's called Thomas." he flushes noticeably for a moment.  "We doesn' have no other names, we was taken when we was just pikneys.  Our old master, he was sea captain, 'fore he sold us.  We learned dha ways of dha sea from 'im."

Malthas,

"South-Southeast, Mr. Swifthand," Captain McCrenshaw says.  He takes a flask from his pocket, and pops the cork.  Rum as dark as heartsblood pours out, mingling with the foaming wake the GRACE is leaving astern.

"Standishtown's best," the Captain says, not a little regretfully.  "I only give Oceanus th' very best, so's not t' make him angry.  Don't do t' try an' cheat th' sea, 's my first captain used t' tell me, back when I was a cabin boy.

You been to Port Andorra much, Mr. Swifthand?"

Nicodemus,

"I only thought I'd ease y'r confinement a bit, Mr. Arfaliunium," it is the voice of the sailmaker, Weaver.  "But I won't trouble y' no longer.  You want me t' take the spirits with me?"


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## Uriel (Jan 8, 2004)

Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> Nicodemus,
> 
> "I only thought I'd ease y'r confinement a bit, Mr. Arfaliunium," it is the voice of the sailmaker, Weaver.  "But I won't trouble y' no longer.  You want me t' take the spirits with me?"




Nico looks up, wiping soot and less recognizable things from his face and hands.'Nay,friend. Just gimme a moment ta tidy up a bit,it'll only take a sec...'

Nico opens the door, all the while moving beakers and scrolls aside from the low table that he used for eating and taking his tea. Gesturing his guest inside, Nicodemus offers a chair, producing two glasses from a small cupboard.


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## dead_radish (Jan 8, 2004)

Malthas shakes his head as the rum flows out.  "It is a damned shame, that - still, if we end up in his arms later on, it might help to have somethin' ta drink, eh?"

Malthas considers the question.  "Andorra, eh?  Aye, once.  It was one of my first voyages, in fact - under a captain...What was his name?  Bye?  Blinn?  Something or that sort.  He was a fair captain, but none too clever - iff'n I hadn't been a green ship's hand, more likely to lean the rail than to climb the ropes, I mighta noticed more - as it were, I think I was just happy I was alive at the end of each day." He laughs.  "Not very different from now, that part.  It was that ship that I got m'cutlass and red _Aeolith_ here."  He gestures to one of the three circles tattoo'ed beneath his eye.  "A group of Iberran pirates thought our ship would make a good salvage, e'en though she was still afloat.  I think there were only 12 of us that came off that ship when we reached Andorra...."  

Malthas rubs introspectively at a small scar on his left forearm.


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## kenjib (Jan 13, 2004)

Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> Vemuz,
> 
> The taller of the two answers for both of them.
> 
> "De master, he used to call me 'Obediah,' when he didn' call me lazy crowbait, Mr. Thriceborn.  Dis fellow, he's my brother, he's called Thomas." he flushes noticeably for a moment.  "We doesn' have no other names, we was taken when we was just pikneys.  Our old master, he was sea captain, 'fore he sold us.  We learned dha ways of dha sea from 'im."




"Well done.  Carry on."  Vemuz turns away, leaving them to their work.


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## Bob Aberton (Jan 13, 2004)

Malthas,

"I knew a Cap'n Blinns," Captain McCrenshaw says, squinting into the sun.  "Friendliest fellow you ever saw, but the figurehead o' his ship had more t' th' topriggin' than he did, if y' see what I mean.  Always wondered how he got command o' such a fine ship.  'Pears to me his ship, th' ELIZA MARIE - thet were her name, I think - were lost off th' Isle o' the Twice-born a year 'r to ago.  Haven't spoken with him since then, though I seem t' recall he survived th' wreck.

It's true the waters we're sailin' into 're lousy with pirates, but then again, put cutlasses in th' hands o' those Orcish hands an' I've a feelin' it'll be the _pirates_ as'll be limpin' into port with a bare dozen hands, eh?"

Nicodemus,

The sailmaker enters, carrying a glass bottle of something alcoholic, likely brandy by its color, and plunks it down on the table.

"Heard old Spit'n'Polish Lang's a bit put out with you, Mr. Arfaliunium.  What did you an' your wild friends do this time?  Some local fellows address you indelicately in a grog-shop again, hey?"  She chuckles easily and fills up two glasses.  "And these new hands of ours.  Crew's been talking considerable and actually saying precious little.  Thought I'd bypass the scuttlebutt, as it were.  This here's out of my own private stash.  Good stuff, isn't it?"

Vemuz,

As you turn away from the Orcs, you see Arthur Orville reclining at ease on a coil of spare line on the forecastle.  He yawns indolently and gazes up at the clouds.  He appears not to have noticed you yet.

Malachi,

(OOC:  I recently acquired a scanner, so I've made a couple of hand drawn charts of The World to use for props for the navigation and all.  I'll email them as soon as I can.)


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## Uriel (Jan 13, 2004)

Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> Nicodemus,
> 
> The sailmaker enters, carrying a glass bottle of something alcoholic, likely brandy by its color, and plunks it down on the table.
> 
> "Heard old Spit'n'Polish Lang's a bit put out with you, Mr. Arfaliunium.  What did you an' your wild friends do this time?  Some local fellows address you indelicately in a grog-shop again, hey?"  She chuckles easily and fills up two glasses.  "And these new hands of ours.  Crew's been talking considerable and actually saying precious little.  Thought I'd bypass the scuttlebutt, as it were.  This here's out of my own private stash.  Good stuff, isn't it?"




Taking out a box of chocolates that Artimus hadn't yet found, Nico smiles at the Sailmaker 'Aye, Miss Weaver.Truth-b-Known, we deserves a bit of Mr. Lang's ire. Thet poor feller'll have a broke heart and a vein on is head of a size to make me ol' pappy a rich man If'n it were filled wit Gold by the time this voyage is done.He seems a good sort. Takes one o'thm officers on ev'ry ship to keep _Order_, it does, an I can't fault 'im fer it none. His twin on the last ship was a right Kraken by comparrison, a Grey Elf they'd like ta see ya scrubbin the barnacles wit sharks nipping at yer heels as soon as have ye say 'G'Day Sir' to him in the morning. He did run a tight ship, though, as everyone was afeared of his lash. At least Mr. lang only uses his tongue...
As far as whut we did...We sort of grabbed a few volunteers in an unorthodox manner. Let's just say that them Orcish lads wuz just abaot done with their other job and we just happened ta need a few hands. Right odd bit of Luck that wuz, Calypso be praised.'
Nico keeps a straight face as much as he can <Will save result 21>, although a slight chuckle escapes when he came to the part about his unorthodox manner of recruiting hands.

edit:spelling


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## dead_radish (Jan 13, 2004)

Malthas nods.  "Aye, the Eliza Marie.  That it was....  I can't say as I'm surprised to hear the ship was wrecked, but it is a shame.  I remember her being a beautiful ship, one that I would have given much to own myself someday....  Isle o' the Twice-born, eh?  Seems like it wouldn't be that hard to track a man from there, if you knew his circumstances...."  He gets a faraway look on his face for a moment, then grins, pulling out his flask, and takes a drink.  "To old memories, and new crews, and putting a holy terror in the hearts of pirates, eh?"  The statements seems a bit incongrous, coming from someone as young looking as Malthas, but it seems heartfelt all the same.


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## Tonguez (Jan 13, 2004)

After sacraments and sleep Malachi once more surveyed the Charts before him. South southeast was the heading to Port Andorra, gainst the mid ocean current but keeping the Nor'east trade winds abeam should help them make time. Of course there was still the dangers of the Doldrums to contend with and who but the gods knew what that could entail 

"_Water, water every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink.

The very deep did rot: O lord!
That ever this should be!
Yea, slimey things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimey sea_"


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## kenjib (Jan 13, 2004)

Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> Vemuz,
> 
> As you turn away from the Orcs, you see Arthur Orville reclining at ease on a coil of spare line on the forecastle.  He yawns indolently and gazes up at the clouds.  He appears not to have noticed you yet.




Vemuz quickly shifts direction and heads around the foremast to come up the stairs behind Arthur Orville.  He leans against the handrail and waits for several minutes.  Still having not been noticed, Vemuz pulls out the crude totem he has been carving and continues his work, his small knife scraping against the wood and small chips spilling across the deck.  Leering eyes, fangs, and a protruding tongue have appeared from the shapeless mass.


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## Bob Aberton (Jan 16, 2004)

Vemuz,

Orville leaps into the air with a half-shouted oath upon hearing the sound of your knife upon the wood.  Seeing the source of the sound does not put him anymore at ease.  He fidgets nervously.

"Er, er, no sign o' weakness in this rope, sir, checked it thoroughly," he stammers, attempting to brazen it out.

Malthas,

"Aye, well, we'll be passin' by there like as not on our way t' Cape Tempestuoso.  'Course, who knows where old Blinns is now?  Doubt he'd be able t' get much higher than a second mate's birth, having lost his ship th' way he did and all."

He draws a cup of water from the scuttlebutt and raises the tin pannikin in toast.  "Aye, t' new crews an' old memories an' fear in th' hearts o' pirates.  Speakin' o' which, d'you think y' could start drillin' th' hands in small arms an' th' like pretty soon. Pirate latitudes comin' up, an' all."

Nicodemus,

"Aye, he ain't a 'Bucko' by any means.  For all the starch in his collar, he's a good man.  I heard him talkin' to the Captain, you know, about the lash.  Now when the Captain was a foremast Jack he served in the Navy a bit, and he probably got a taste of the lash.  Well, he made some remark about it, and Mr. Lang says, in his usual stiff voice, 'the type of men that use the lash with any regularity are the kind that are incapable of commanding men without it.'  There's the measure of Lang for you."

When you finish your story about the Orcish hands, Weaver chuckles merrily.

"Best yarn I've heard since we hove into that mudhole.  There'll be some soreheaded clamdiggers by now, I'll wager.  Heheh, if only we could get crews that easily anywhere, eh?  How d'you stand on the principle of Orc slavery, Mr. Arfaliunium, anyway?"

Malachi,

(OOC:  Fortunately the GRACE has a harpooner aboard for when the slimy things start crawling.  That poem makes for good inspiration, I warn you  )


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## Uriel (Jan 16, 2004)

Sipping his drink, Nico nods and says toMiss Weaver 'Aye, ye could say that I am a'gin Slavery, of any Folk. My people 'ave been the unfortunate objcts of a Slaver's Eye before and we take very unkindly ta it, I kin tell'ya.'


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## dead_radish (Jan 16, 2004)

Malthas chuckles.  "Indeed.  P'rhpas we'll run across him, and can hire him on as a cabin boy, eh?  He could do a lot worse than to learn from a man like you, Sir."  He gazes over the wheel, down to where the orcish hands are working, and shakes his head.  "That lot'll be an interesting lot to train, make no mistake.  I think I may start with wooden swords for them.  Should I clear time with Mr. Lang again, or just begin flailin' about?"  He winks.


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## Bob Aberton (Jan 19, 2004)

Malthas,

"It's not Mr. Lang as y' should be worried 'bout runnin' afoul of.  Poor Mr. Thriceborn has th' thankless task o' learnin' them th' ropes an all; y' should have seen some o' th' ways they took into their heads t' belay th' halyards when we hoisted sail.  Fortunately Mr. Thriceborn took care o' that before Mr. Lang say it; he'd've had a fit o' apoplexy if he'd seen them Orcish hitches," the Captain says with a small smile.

Nicodemus,

"Dwarvish slavery?  Now that's something I've never seen - or heard much of, come t' think of it.  Can't say I favor slavery much either, strikes me as wrong on moral an' economic grounds.  Morally, because popular to contrary belief Orcs – and of course dwarves too - are just as much free thinking creatures as humans, and there isn’t a man I’ve known or heard of that would argue that humans should be treated like cattle, and economically because you can only beat so much work out of a fellow before he either fights back or dies," Weaver says.  She pauses for a long beat and stares into the depths of her brandy glass.

"Mr. Arfaliunium," she says at last, "if I told you there were some people I knew, some people that share our views and are actually doing something about it, like you did over in Standishtown...would be interested in getting in contact with these hypothetical people when next we make port?  I assume you were the ringleader in that little caper over in Standishtown, as Lang punished you the heaviest."


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## kenjib (Jan 19, 2004)

Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> Vemuz,
> 
> Orville leaps into the air with a half-shouted oath upon hearing the sound of your knife upon the wood.  Seeing the source of the sound does not put him anymore at ease.  He fidgets nervously.
> 
> "Er, er, no sign o' weakness in this rope, sir, checked it thoroughly," he stammers, attempting to brazen it out.




"Well, since you seem to take such an initiative in checking the strength of a coil of rope, perhaps you can check the rest of them?  Start with that one over there."  Vemuz points to another coil of rope nearby.  "When you're done with the coils on the deck you can go down to the hold and check on all of the stores of rope we have belowdecks.  For every rope that's not coiled neatly you'll get a day with half rations of food.  Now get to it and let me not see you again lying about when there's work to be done.  You're still on shift, _sailor_."  There is a hint of sarcasm in that last word.


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## dead_radish (Jan 19, 2004)

Malthas grins.  "Aye, I can only imagine."  He takes a deep drink from his flask, and screws the cap on, wincing slightly.  "Well, I suppose there's no use waiting to take this on, eh?  P'rhaps if I get them while they're working, they won't swing quite as hard...."

He looks thoughtful.  "We do have a ship's doctor aboard, right?"

He then hands over his post to the relief pilot, and makes his way down to the main deck, stretching and rolling his neck as he goes in a very theatrical display of preparation.  He approaches Vemuz after he finishes upbraiding a man, and calls him over.

"The captain would like me to begin the small arms training - can you spare a group of perhaps 5 to start with?"


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## Tonguez (Jan 20, 2004)

Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> Malachi,
> 
> (OOC:  Fortunately the GRACE has a harpooner aboard for when the slimy things start crawling.  That poem makes for good inspiration, I warn you  )



_
ooc Glad to oblige_

Below Malachi gently starts to snore - noisly


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## Bob Aberton (Jan 21, 2004)

Vemuz,

Orville pales as he hears his punishment meted out.

"_All_ th' rope - below _an'_ abovedecks?  But sir, that's miles an' miles o' rope!  I-I'll starve afore I finish, sir, honest!"  He slumps his shoulders and looks as pitiful as possible, but doesn't linger around to catch a stinging retort.  He shambles over to the coil of rope indicated and begins to re-coil it slowly and painstakingly, muttering under his breath, no doubt describing your ancestry and the morals of the female side of your family in great and vulgar detail.

Jonah,

While you sit in your cabin, waiting for the sun to soften its glare, you hear a knock on your cabin door.

"Mr. Jonah?  I come in, please, hey?"  

You recognize the Espirantish accent of Lupe Sanchez, the sailor whose mysterious map you translated on the voyage to Standishtown.


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## Uriel (Jan 21, 2004)

Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> "Mr. Arfaliunium," she says at last, "if I told you there were some people I knew, some people that share our views and are actually doing something about it, like you did over in Standishtown...would be interested in getting in contact with these hypothetical people when next we make port?  I assume you were the ringleader in that little caper over in Standishtown, as Lang punished you the heaviest."




Taking a long look at Miss Weaver, Nico says 'Well, I am a'gin enslavement, Miss Weaver. As to the last caper, I jus did me part, me skills coming in handy, as it were. The strong arms and quick feet o' me Mates did jus as much in freeing them poor blighters as did me magic.
Tell on regarding these _other_ folk. I be listening...[/I]


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## Bob Aberton (Jan 24, 2004)

double post...


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## Bob Aberton (Jan 24, 2004)

The CALYPSO'S GRACE rolls gently on in the long ocean swell, timbers creaking and rigging rattling and BUMPing with the moderate breeze astern.


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## kenjib (Jan 24, 2004)

dead_radish said:
			
		

> He approaches Vemuz after he finishes upbraiding a man, and calls him over.
> 
> "The captain would like me to begin the small arms training - can you spare a group of perhaps 5 to start with?"




"Aye.  You can start by waking some up from the bunks.  They're expecting it."  Vemuz continues to keep a sharp watch over the orc abovedecks, quickly stepping in to correct them when they make mistakes.


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## Xael (Jan 24, 2004)

When Lupe knocks on the door and speaks, Jonah turns to look at the door for a few seconds, and then ansvers shortly: "Sure."


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## Bob Aberton (Jan 24, 2004)

Jonah,

Lupe has in his hands the copy of the map you translated for him from the Drow dialect of the elven tongue.  He walks in the door, peers cautiously at the corridor behind him, and then closes the door behind him.

He places the map on your desk, and then places next to it a very old sheath knife, its blade worn down by many years of sharpening.  On the whalebone hilt of the knife, the words BLACK MAST are scrimshawed, and on the other side of the hilt you can just barely make out the words "J. Boyd, Quartermaster."  The writing is badly blurred.

"You know of the BLACK MAST, hey?" Lupe says, without so much as an exchange of pleasantries.  "She was ship of Kazan the Red, sank fifty years back.  This map was from the pockets of the man who owned this knife - Quartermaster of the BLACK MAST, fifty years ago.  Have I told you the story?  My grandfather was seaman before the mast like me, his ship picked up this man, and my grandfather used the knife to kill his shipmate over the dead man's coat.  Lem Harvey, when he was young, he ship with an old sailor - old sailor who knew a man on the BLACK MAST.  Said that this Kazan the Red had great treasure heaped up somewhere, no one knew where.  This map - this map is no chart for navigating...and these words - 'Here...was' and then a position and bearing and then 'underneath a...'  You know all about maps, I hear - what you make of this map, hey?"

Nicodemus,

"You can tell anyone who you think would be interested - Mr. Legba, f'r instance.  These folk I know, maybe you've heard of them, call themselves 'The Society for the Abolition of Orcish Slavery,' or just the Abolitionists for short.  They've got a couple or two of the wealthy and powerful upper crust in Hull listenin' to 'em, but precious few elsewhere.  Not politically popular, seein' as how Standishtown tobacco and St. Yves sugar is a lucrative business and the planters' money speaks louder than the Abolitionists' talk o' morality.  They want to get rid of slavery in the end, but for now, they'll just settle for helping runaways.  They want to set up what they call an 'Underground Road' for runaway Orcs.  Problem is, they're not, gen'rally speaking, a practical set of people. They need people like you, an' whoever else was in on th' Standishtown caper, for that sort o' thing.  You'd know how best t' do somethin' like that, seeing as you've already done it on a smaller scale," Weaver says, and then pauses for breath.  She sips her drink and suddenly looks worried, probably realizing how much she's said.  "By th' way, Mr. Arfaliunium, I guess I don't need to impress on you the need for keeping this secret, do I?  I'd admire if you'd keep some quiet between decks about this."

Malthas,

The Orcs you rousted up from belowdecks stand in a semicircle around the arms chest, peering at the stand of cutlasses uncertainly.  You recall that it was permissible in Standishtown to hang a slave for owning a weapon like a cutlass or pistol.  

You also notice a number of the cutlasses are flecked with rust, having not been cleaning since before the GRACE made port.


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## dead_radish (Jan 24, 2004)

Malthas grins.  "So, lads, not familiar with the pointy ones?  I'd bet most of you lot could pick up a man and break him in half, but we're going to teach you some of the finer points of making sharp things go in to soft things."

He gestures at the arms chest.  "Each of you can pick a weapon - pick them up, hold them, get familiar - lads your size will be seeing people come at them with swords, rather than fists.  I want you to know how they work."

He waits until they have done so, then tosses each of them a cleaning stone and a whetstone.  "And now we'll learn the first rule.  You live and die by your weapon.  If your weapon isn't trustworthy, clean, sharp and true, you might as well be holding a stick.  You take care of your weapon, and it will take care of you.  So I want to see my face in every one of those blades, and I want you to see your own faces in there, and know you made it shine."

He follows suit, pulling out Tuanna and giving it (another) polish and shine.


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## kenjib (Jan 28, 2004)

After a short time, Vemuz crosses the deck and goes below to check on Arthur Orville.  On the off chance that he should happen to overhear Lupe and Jonah discussing such matters as they are, he will most certainly continue to "overhear" them discretely.


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## Bob Aberton (Jan 29, 2004)

Malthas,

The Orcs follow your lead, sharpening and polishing their weapons.  You notice they sharpen and polish quite well, probably from a lifetime of sharpening scythes and hoes and the like and polishing wealthy owners' silverware.  They seem much more at ease now, treating their weapons as just another sort of tool to be cleaned and not an item of contradband which they could be hung for having.

Vemuz,

Orville is still on the forecastle, coiling the jibsheets and spritsail-sheets.  He has at least half a weeks worth of work ahead of him, although given his propensity for sogering and napping it could take him a month or more.

Upon going below, you pass by the cabin of the supercargo, Jonah.  One of the foremast hands is in the cabin as well, to judge by the mumble of indistince voices emanating from the closed door.  

The GRACE's fortuitously sudden roll to starboard swings the cabin door open for a fraction of a second; you catch the words "BLACK MAST" and "map," spoken in the tones of the Espirantish seaman, Lupe Sanchez.


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## dead_radish (Jan 29, 2004)

Malthas nods approvingly, and waits for everyone to finish cleaning and polishing.  

Once everyone is done, he stands up again in front of the group.  "Now, lads.  Did any of you have weapons training afore the clamdiggers yanked you from your homes?"  If any do, he selects one of those.  If not, he picks one at random....

"Stand up here, show me how you feel you should present."


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## Xael (Feb 1, 2004)

Jonah listens to Lupe his mood rising a bit as Lupe presents the map, and then takes a look at the map. "I wouldn't say I know everything about maps, but I can take a look again."

OOC: Bob: It seems that I've lost the picture of the map you send me earlier. And I really don't remember it much... My email at the moment is (forgot the password to last one):  Xael_Xorlarrin@hotmail.com

And one week until school ends... *dreams* ...freedom...


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## kenjib (Feb 2, 2004)

Vemuz stands near the door listening, his hand around the wooden idol in his pocket, ready to drop it on the ground and pick it up again as an excuse should someone notice him standing there.


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## Bob Aberton (Feb 5, 2004)

Malthas,

"I hunted some, befo' I was caught - hunted boar an' de...ehm...'Long-horns' you know?" One of the Orcs volunteers.  

From the way they hold the weapons, about half seem to have used spears and clubs before.  One of them, however, you notice, is half-crouched in a rudimentary duelist's stance.  His form is weak, but he still appears as though someone had trained him in the use of a blade to a small degree.

Jonah,

(OOC:  Did you get my email?  I'll send it again, just to be sure


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## dead_radish (Feb 5, 2004)

Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> Malthas,
> 
> "I hunted some, befo' I was caught - hunted boar an' de...ehm...'Long-horns' you know?" One of the Orcs volunteers.




Malthas nods.  "Then you know what it's like to feel the moment when you know you, or something else, is going to die.  Swords aren't like spears - you have to step close to a man to fight with a sword, look him in the eye."

He considers.  "And perhaps remember how men like him might have treated you in the past, might have spat at you, spoke down to you, mocked you."  He looks up at the orcs, seeing their faces.  "Enslaved you."

"Don't ever let the anger get ahold of you, but let it guide your strikes, and your attacks."


			
				Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> From the way they hold the weapons, about half seem to have used spears and clubs before.  One of them, however, you notice, is half-crouched in a rudimentary duelist's stance.  His form is weak, but he still appears as though someone had trained him in the use of a blade to a small degree.




Malthas gestures to that orc, smiling congenially.  "You've used a blade before, haven't you m'friend?  That's Keralthian's third form, or at least most of it.  What's your name?  Your real one, not what they called you...."


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## Bob Aberton (Feb 7, 2004)

Malthas,

You can see rage flaring up in the Orc's eyes as your words hit home.  They grip their cutlass hilts as though trying to squeeze the life out of them.

The Orc you spoke to looks down at his blade.  "I taught mysel' from watchin' de masta trainin'.  Thought maybe someday Ah could kill hem an' 'scape.  Mah old name was Anansai o' de Nbantii."

(OOC Everyone:  I've noticed lately that responses are really tapering off lately.  I know I'm partly to blame, I've been trying to reply as often as I can, but I've had a busy month.  I'm going have a little roll call; if everyone could make a post, and those whose characters are sleeping or whatever could make a little flavor post, that would be awesome.  Thanks in advance.)


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## kenjib (Feb 7, 2004)

Vemuz still waits by the door...


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## Xael (Feb 8, 2004)

Jonah tries to figure out the map.

OOC: Got the map. Not sure what I should say about it though. I quess that Lupe is bright enough to spot the coordinates himself...


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## Tonguez (Feb 8, 2004)

Turning over in his bunk, Malachi lets out a particularly loud snore  - loud enough to jolt him from his slumber. His eyes snap open and his body tenses, the fight or flight instinct kicking in before his brain clicks in and he grins sheepishly to himself realising what it was that roused him

"Lady b' praised!" he grins as he stretches and yawns, makes himself presentable then wanders out his cabin door to see...


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## dead_radish (Feb 9, 2004)

Malthas nods.  "Well, Anansai, you have the first of it.  There are actually two reasons to fight - you can fight to show your skill, and not to wound - those are the fights we do now.  And there are fights where you will win, or die.  There are no other kinds, no matter what people tell you.  If you are fighting to show, there are rules, there are poses, there are points."  He grins.  "I won't teach you to fight like that.  When you fight to win, you do what you need to do - if you follow the rules and die, you might feel good, but you'll still be dead."  He takes up a basic pose.

"Let's see what you have, then."  He grins.


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## Bob Aberton (Feb 9, 2004)

(OOC:  Thanks, all, that's more like it...I don't have time to do justice to a DM post tonight, but I'll use this as a placeholder; expect the DM Post ASAP...sorry about the delay, hope you don't mind...)


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## Uriel (Feb 9, 2004)

Nico pours another cup of tea for Miss Weaver.


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## Bob Aberton (Feb 14, 2004)

Jonah,

You both pore over the map in the light coming through the porthole, or at least you do.  Lupe paces around the tiny cabin with nervous energy, flexing his fingers and stroking his mustachioes.

He shuts the door a bit firmer and then turns back to you, keeping one ear cocked toward the door.

"Mr. Jonah," he says, after a long pause, "you see this position?  You think there anything worth going there for, hey?  What about this, we make port in Port Andorra, yes?  This position is not so far; we hire a sloop or pinnace, hey?  We sail to this place.  We find anything worth money, we share it, equal-wise, hey?"

(OOC:  



Spoiler



The map is very old, concievably dating back to the days of Kazan the Red.  It is burned and stained almost beyond recognition; either it has undergone hard wear or someone has tried to destroy it.  Furthermore, it is written in Drow, a language which to your knowledge is otherwise unknown on the Lands Under the Sun [ie the surface world].  As to the detail of the map, it is finally drawn, but the perspective is somewhat off.  It is clearly of very little use for navigating, but the island which lies at the noted position is, from what you have seen of charts of the area, proportionately larger than the map indicates.  All of this points to several conclusions - firstly, that the one who drew the map was no professional mapmaker, with little knowledge of proportion or perspective.  Secondly, the fact that it is written in Drow indicates either that it was a Drow that penned it or that the writer wanted to take some pains to keep the information inside secret.)

Nicodemus,

"Thank y', Mr. Arfaliunium," Weaver says.  She sips her tea, and says, "Well, I've got work to be about.  But thank y' for the tea, an' for lendin' an ear t' what I have t' say.  When we make port, I'll introduce y' to some of these Abolitionists I know - they'll be interested in what you an' y'r mates did in Standishtown...I expect it'll be a great help in settin' up their 'Underground Road' t' smuggle the slaves out of there, d'ye see?"

Malthas,

You and the Orc face off.  Your cutlasses ring together, once, twice, three times, and then you are past Anansai's guard and Tuaana is tickling his throat.  The Orc is a good fighter, considering.  His grasp of form is weak, and Keralthian's Third Form is in any case a flashy gentleman duelist's stance, difficult to master and not as useful as the simpler forms against a determined offense.  He has an exceptionally strong wrist, however; when you parry his blows the feeling that runs up your arm is reminiscent of parrying an anvil.

Vemuz,

You hear an indistinct murmur of voices, one of them distinctly Esperantish.

(OOC:  Listen check, please...)

Malachi,

"Evenin', Mr. Legba," the Captain says.  "Y'r just in time t' take an evenin' sight, if y' would be so kind.  Y've recovered from y'r Standishtown adventures, then?"

(OOC:  Profession: Navigation check, please...)


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## kenjib (Feb 14, 2004)

listen:  19 + 2 = 21


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## Xael (Feb 16, 2004)

Being still rather interested in the map, Jonah however speaks to Lupe in an unsure tone: "I'm quite sure there is - or at least there has been - something worth looking for there, but I'm rather sceptical about we finding it. We only know the cordinates of the place, but who knows how large the area is. Or is the "treasure" in the bottom of the sea. And at the moment, I'm as good sailor as you're proficient in reading the text in this map. If we have time while Grace is in Port Andorra, I'm not really opposing the idea of going to check it out though. But I wouldn't get my hopes up."


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## dead_radish (Feb 16, 2004)

Malthas works his arm, sore already.  "Well done indeed.  You took a posturing form, and did well enough with it."  He gestures at the other orcs.  "See, there.  It's not that hard to learn the basics, lads.  Everyone pair up, and we'll put you through some paces."


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## Bob Aberton (Feb 19, 2004)

Jonah,

Lupe frowns for a moment, but then brightens up and flashes you a toothy grin.  

"Very well, we talk again when we make Port Andorra.  You keep it in mind, hey?"

He gathers up the map and replaces the knife in its sheath, and walks out the door to resume his duties.

Vemuz,

You hear Lupe tell Jonah to "keep it in mind," then he strides out the door.  Straight into you, in fact.  The way he bounces off of your massive frame is rather amusing to see.

"Apologies, Mr. Thrice-born," he says cautiously.  In his hands he is holding a tattered map and a knife that you saw on the voyage to Standishtown from Hull - the knife with the words "BLACK MAST" engraved on its hilt.

(OOC:  You heard everything that was said since you first stated you were listening in.)

Malthas,

The Orcs promptly set to thrashing at each other for an hour or so.  At first, they fight hesitantly, but once their fighting blood is up they set-to with a fury.  All bear large collections of nicks and bruises, and most have by now cast away their cutlasses and are rolling about on the pitching deck, grappling and punching.  You noticed that none had even rudimentary form with their blades, save Anansai of the Nbantii; they all used their cutlasses either as very short spears or as very sharp clubs.  They are, however, formidable if untrained fighters.

Nicodemus,

"We'll talk more about this when we make port, shall we?" Weaver says, draining her last cup of tea.  "Port Andorra bein' their base of operations, as it were.  Thank y' for the tea."  

She gets up and leaves with a cheery salute.


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## dead_radish (Feb 19, 2004)

Malthas sighs, and watches the brawls, grinning slightly.  After the orcs wander off, he approaches Anansai.  "Your fellows, they fight very well.  But they fight with their fists, not their weapons.  Effective, but not what we're after.   Perhaps later, we could work on your forms, and you could show your fellows?"


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## Uriel (Feb 19, 2004)

Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> Nicodemus,
> 
> "We'll talk more about this when we make port, shall we?" Weaver says, draining her last cup of tea.  "Port Andorra bein' their base of operations, as it were.  Thank y' for the tea."
> 
> She gets up and leaves with a cheery salute.




Nic smiles and returns Ms. Weaver's salute, saying Aye, when we reach Port, Ms. Weaver...'
After the woman had gone, Nicodemus returned to work, turning the Quarters once more into a mixture of small explosions, cursing and Artimus' alarmed _howls_.


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## kenjib (Feb 19, 2004)

Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> Vemuz,
> 
> You hear Lupe tell Jonah to "keep it in mind," then he strides out the door.  Straight into you, in fact.  The way he bounces off of your massive frame is rather amusing to see.
> 
> "Apologies, Mr. Thrice-born," he says cautiously.  In his hands he is holding a tattered map and a knife that you saw on the voyage to Standishtown from Hull - the knife with the words "BLACK MAST" engraved on its hilt.




Vemuz pretends to scarcely notice, grunting acknowledgement with a quick "Mr. Sanchez" as he 'continues' down the ship toward the hold.  In truth, his mind is reeling.

_*Damnable looters and thieves.  That is my grandfather's ship...my ship.  That is *my* gold!*_

As soon as Lupe is out of sight he snaps the head off of the idol he has been carving and dashes the pieces against the wall.  It's leering face is left to stare vacantly at it's own disconnected body as Vemuz storms off.


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## Tonguez (Feb 22, 2004)

Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> "Evenin', Mr. Legba," the Captain says.  "Y'r just in time t' take an evenin' sight, if y' would be so kind.  Y've recovered from y'r Standishtown adventures, then?"




"Yassir" the Half-orc grins "recovar'd well. Ah hopes dhe new crewmin ar shapin' up satisfory too" he looks around to see where they might be

"gud t'see we'is makin gud way fram Standis'ton

Righ' yu-ar" he continues as he goes to take the readings from his usual position lining the horizon and the zenith stars and consulting his gear

(OOC:  Profession: Navigation check rolled 9+9=18 )


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## Bob Aberton (Feb 28, 2004)

Malthas,

"Aye, sar," the Orc replies.  "Dat would be ver' good.  You teach me an' I teach dem, yas?"

Jonah,

A few moments after Lupe leaves, you hear the voice of Mr. Thriceborn, the boatswain, greeting him curtly.  Another moment, and you hear a loud crash as something is hurled with great force against the bulkhead, and angry footsteps retreating away in the direction of the fore-hold and boatswain's locker.

Vemuz,

As you storm off in the general direction of the boatswain's locker and fore-hold, the few men you encounter on the way are not foolish enough to stop, but instead retreat at the thunderous look on your face.

Mr. Lang, however, does stop you.

"Mr. Thriceborn," he says, meeting your eye in his usual cool and precise manner, "The Captain wishes to speak to you at your earliest convenience.  If the Orcish hands are finished with their small arms drill, you could set them to work on the fore-rigging - the shrouds are still a touch more slack than they should be.  By the way, Orville has finished with the running rigging on the foredeck and is currently inspecting and coiling the spare rope in the boatswain's locker.  I assume he was sogering on duty again?"


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## kenjib (Feb 28, 2004)

Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> "Mr. Thriceborn," he says, meeting your eye in his usual cool and precise manner, "The Captain wishes to speak to you at your earliest convenience.  If the Orcish hands are finished with their small arms drill, you could set them to work on the fore-rigging - the shrouds are still a touch more slack than they should be.




"Aye Mr. Lang, sir," Vemuz replies, trying to quickly regain his composure.



			
				Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> By the way, Orville has finished with the running rigging on the foredeck and is currently inspecting and coiling the spare rope in the boatswain's locker.  I assume he was sogering on duty again?"




Vemuz lowers his voice to a conspiratorial tone.  "Aye he was, Mr. Lang.  That one is trouble.  Mark my words.  I've had my eye on him from the start and I tell you that no good will come of that one."


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## dead_radish (Feb 28, 2004)

Malthas nods.  "I would be much obliged, sir.  Naturally, I will still train you and the other men as well.  Working together, I'm sure we can get you new tars ready to defend her Grace in no time at all."  Malthas smiles.  "And naturally, I would be grateful for your help - shall we say an extra silver a week for the aid?"  (OOC: I want that to be a fair price - nothing near what he makes now, but maybe 15% or so extra, above his normal pay.  If needed, adjust accordingly.   )


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## Bob Aberton (Mar 6, 2004)

(OOC All:  Sorry for my lack of posting.  Has anyone else noticed that the boards are logging them off when they try to post?  I've been trying to get on for a week or so, but I've been having the same problem.)

Malthas,

Anansai's eyes widen at the thought of the extra silver.  He has little experience with very much money, being used to working hard for nothing but a meal, a roof, and clothing.

"Yas, sar, I do that, I helps you.  Dhey'll learn right quick, sar."

Vemuz,

"Yes, I will grant you that, Mr. Thriceborn," says Mr. Lang. "He is the proverbial bad apple.  Still, he is not as bad as some men I have shipped with in the past; he is neither a mutineer nor a murderer, only a soger and a drunk.  I have a mind that 'hazing' him might do some good - keep him as busy as you can, run him by the Townsend Catechism, perhaps that will keep him out of trouble."

(OOC:  "Hazing" in this instance just means assigned extra-onerous work duties as much as possible.  The Townsend Catechism was inspired by Dana's "Philadelphia Catechism" - "Six days thou shalt labor and do all that thou art able, and on the seventh, holystone the decks and scrape the cable.")


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## kenjib (Mar 6, 2004)

"Aye Mr. Lang, sir.  I'll keep hard on top of him."

If that is all, Vemuz turns and finds one of the more reliable hands on duty and assigns him to work with the orcs on the fore-rigging.  He then locates the captain and approaches him.  "Captain, sir, I've set the men to the fore-rigging at your command.  I know they're a bit green, sir, but I promise they'll be worth the trouble in no time.  Will there be anything else?"


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## Tonguez (Mar 6, 2004)

Bob Aberton said:
			
		

> (OOC All:  Sorry for my lack of posting.  Has anyone else noticed that the boards are logging them off when they try to post?  I've been trying to get on for a week or so, but I've been having the same problem.)




ooc Yep had the xact same problem for a while - better now (cleaned out all me cookies to get it going)

IC 
Malachi makes a last few calculations and checks back on the charts before passing instructions on and then sits back and watches the crew, especially the new Orc crewmen go about their duties.

"Be a gud dey fer'it" he grins

(just to reiterate the Nav check was 18 (9+9))


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## dead_radish (Mar 6, 2004)

Malthas almost stops the orc from using the "Sir," but realizes at the last moment that he is, in fact, an officer.  He contents himself with a camraderly grin, and a pat on the (lower) back.  "I'm certain they'll be ship-shape in no time.  Perh'ps we'll meet every third day, at shift change?  I can work with you after I'm done on the wheel."


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## Tonguez (Mar 7, 2004)

His duty done Malachi turns and goes to watch the orc crewmen at work...


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## Bob Aberton (Mar 12, 2004)

Vemuz,

"Not at th' moment, Mr. Thriceborn," the Captain says, squinting at the men in the fore-rigging, where some of the Orcs, directed by a stream of cheerful profanity from Ben Stern and Luc d'Erville, have set up tackle to the deadeye lanyards and are hauling the shrouds taut once more.  "Glad t'hear thet y' think so highly o' the new hands.  Strong backs, at th' very least, eh?"

He peers over the side of the rail at the water, a deep blue color for the moment, but soon to be the green-tinted water of the tropics.

From up on the foredeck, you can hear a commotion.  A small knot of sailors from the starboard watch are gesturing over the bows, and you can see one of them flourishing (in what seems to you a very clumsy manner) a harpoon.

"Fore-deck, there," the Captain roars.  "What's all this commotion about?  Seen our lucky shark yet?"

The Orcs in the fore-rigging are distracted momentarily from their task, but Ben Stern is an experienced sailor who knows his duties flawlessly, and gently directs their attention back to the deadeye lanyards with a cheerful shout of "Ahoy, there, y' infernal sons o' fishmongers!  What did th' bo'sun tell y'?  Clap on t' thet tackle, an' don't stop haulin' till y' can bend an oak plank 'round them shrouds!"  

(OOC:  Sailors believed it was good luck to cut the tail off the first shark caught on a voyage and nail the tail to the end of the bowsprit.)

Malthas,

"Yas, sar, dat be a fine idea, sar.  Ev'ry third day, at dhe changin' o' dha watch," Anansai says agreeably, knuckling his forehead in a fair approximation of a salute.  Stowing his cutlass, he trots off to the fore-rigging, where under the beady eye of Mr. Thriceborn, the Orcs and Ben Stern are tightening the foremast shrouds.

"SE by E 1/2 S, Mr. Swifthand," the Captain calls, as you take the wheel from John Stout, who stretches his sore arms with relief.  At the same time, you hear a commotion upon the foredeck, where a small knot of sailors from the Starboard watch are gesturing excitedly over the bow, and one is flourishing a harpoon.

"Fore-deck, there!" roars the Captain.  "What's all this commotion about?  Seen our lucky shark yet?"

(OOC:  Sailors believed it was good luck to cut off the tail of the first shark caught on a voyage, and nail it to the end of the bowsprit.)

Malachi,

The Orcs are at work upon the fore-rigging, tightening the foremast shrouds by heaving on the deadeye lanyards under the direction of Mr. Thriceborn the bo'sun.

Over on the foredeck, a small group of sailors from the starboard watch are gesturing excitedly over the bows and one is flourishing a harpoon.

"Fore-deck, there!" roars the Captain.  "What's all this commotion about?  Seen our lucky shark yet?"

(OOC:  Sailors believed it was good luck to cut off the tail of the first shark caught on a voyage, and nail it to the end of the bowsprit.)


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## dead_radish (Mar 12, 2004)

Malthas grins at the orc.  "Sounds like an excellent plan, sir."

He takes the wheel, making corrections as he does slightly, without letting Mr. Stout notice.

He watches over the rail curiously, but doesn't get too involved - sharks see his kind as light meals, rather than threats.  He'll let the big lunks handle the ritual.


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## kenjib (Mar 12, 2004)

Vemuz grabs his harpoon from it's resting place on deck and moves to the front of the ship with a swiftness surprisingly in contradiction to his bulky form.  His voice booms out across the ship.  "What goes there, sailors?"


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## Uriel (Mar 14, 2004)

Coming aboedecks to get a bit of air, Nicodemus yawns and looks about, wondering at the commotion to the Ship's fore.

<Nat '1' on Spot...er. Listen was a 22, however>

Artimus scampers up into the rigging, glad to be free of the lab, if for only a brief period.


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## Tonguez (Mar 14, 2004)

The Orc is not so quick to assume that it may be a shark the sailors have seen, there are many more things in the oceans besides. Moving to join the spectacle Malachi's eyes wandered down to the pattern of marks and motif along his arm, mentally highlighting the details of its many sharks 

_"they are the belly of a great shark" old Mogwi would point to the thick band of stars at the center of the heavens "learn its ways and you will always come home"_


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## Bob Aberton (Mar 24, 2004)

(OOC All:  Sorry about my prolonged absence, life's been hectic, got a new job, etc. etc.  I'm probably going to be able to post more frequently now that my life's calmed down a bit, but I can't be sure, March is always a crazy month for me...)

Nicodemus,

While you can't see what is going on on the foredeck, you can hear the sailors talking about this voyage's "lucky shark."

Malachi,

While there are many things in the ocean that are not sharks, this time you do see the telltale "leg-o'-mutton sail fin" slicing about in the foaming wake curling back from the GRACE's cutwater.

"John Shark's a-cruisin'!" one of the sailors says jubilantly.  "Stick 'im, Mr. Thriceborn!"

Vemuz,

"John Shark's a-cruisin'!" shouts a sailor who you recognize as Lem Harvey.  "Stick 'im, Mr. Thriceborn!"

Judging by the size of the telltale fin, the shark is a good sized one, though by no means the size of monsters you saw in your whaling days, sharks the size of longboats which would be drawn from miles around by the blood of a dying whale, a yarn which would make good telling to the crew, should they ever need a bit of shaking up....This shark is perhaps twelve feet long, a little more than half the size of the GRACE's longboat.

The shark is circling about in the foamy wake curling back from the GRACE's cutwater, keep pace with the ship.  A sailor had already rigged a bowline and tackle from the tip of the bowsprit to haul the shark aboard, should somebody succeed in their attempt to "stick 'im."


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## kenjib (Mar 24, 2004)

Vemuz looks confidently over the railing at the shark.  He addresses the sailor who is brandishing a harpoon.  "You there sailor.  I'll give you one shot at him.  Two mugs of grog and a night off if you bring him in.  Now stop waving that thing around like a bloody dog with a bone.  Feet apart...like this...steady and feel the motion of the boat.  Bend with it.  Easy going compared to the sway of the longboat, eh?  Alright, raise up to your shoulder like this and don't think about it too much yet."

He helps guide the sailor's arm to show the proper motion.  "You'll bring it over this way, but don't think about it.  Just have your arm follow your eye just like you're stabbing him up close.  No other way to do it than on instinct.  Alright then, look quick and make it count next time he passes."

"Lem!  Quick and drop some chum to drop in the water in case he misses, eh?  Just a little though.  Let's keep him interested here but not fat and happy enough to leave..."  (OOC:  If this is the wrong thing to do, and I would know that, please disregard...)

Vemuz also stands ready, watching to follow up with his own harpoon.

(OOC:  Congrats on the new job, Bob.  Don't worry about apologizing - whatever pace you want to post at is no problem.)


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## Tonguez (Mar 24, 2004)

Malachi grins when he sees that it is indeed a shark, and only of average size at that.
He watches as Vemuz directs the harpooners, remembering his own youth when he would go out and dive with the sharks, and the villagers catching the great fish by attaching a noose to its tail and dragging it ashore

"_Powerful totem_" Mogwi had told him "_Your ancestor was a shark_"

Stepping him he calls the orc crewman up and gets ready to help haul the creature aboard...


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## Bob Aberton (Mar 30, 2004)

All,

Lem Harvey throws a handful of chum into the water, and the shark goes into a frenzy, rolling over and snapping at the bait and churning the water into a bloody froth.

The sailor plants his feet, as Mr. Thriceborn instructed him to do.  Under Mr. Thriceborn's direction, he sights along the shaft of the harpoon and then draws his arm back.  

He takes a deep breath, and then several things happen at once.  The GRACE's bow rises over the crest of a wave in a shower of spray, then drops into the trough.  The shark rolls over onto its side and snaps at a piece of bait.  Then, as the bowsprit dips its lowest, just above the surface of the water, the sailor breaths out and thrusts the harpoon down viciously, rising on his tip-toes and putting his whole body into the throw.  The harpoon flashes downwards and sinks into the shark's belly, just aft of his jaws.

If the beast was excited before, it is truly enraged now; it flashes off to the south-west, the line on the end of the harpoon smoking as it snakes over the rail.  The six hundred feet of harpoon-line soon run out, however; the bitter end is rove through a block, and a number of orcs and brawny sailors keep tension on the line, playing the shark for all he is worth.  Much as the shark tries, he cannot escape the implacable momentum of the 650 ton GRACE, towing him along at right angles to his chosen course with 20 knots of wind in her 9,500 square feet of canvas.  Soon the monstrous fish is exhausted; the line gets slacker and slacker, and the sailors heaving on the harpoon line eventually bring the shark back into view.  As soon as it is visible, Lem Harvey drops his bait-bucket, dashes out to the tip of the bowsprit, and prepares to slip the noose around the shark's tail with a boat-hook.

Another few minutes of spectacular thrashing ensue as the noose tightens around the tail of the exhausted shark, and then it is hauled free of the water, hanging by its tail from the starboard foreyardarm and twisting and thrashing furiously, dripping water from its body and blood from the harpoon onto the deck.  No one is particularly keen to get in close and make the kill.


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## kenjib (Apr 1, 2004)

Vemuz smiles as the shark is hauled out of the water.  He approaches the sailor who harpooned it (ooc:  the sailor's name?).  "That was a worthy throw, sailor.  You've a good arm."  Vemuz watches the thrashing shark with amusement.  "He'll settle down a bit soon, then take a knife to the back of his head.  Keep your feet about you though and clear out quickly after you strike.

"Somebody!  Bring this man a long knife!"  Vemuz spies Lupe near at hand.  "Lupe, a knife!  Quickly!"


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## kenjib (Apr 16, 2004)

bump?


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## dead_radish (Apr 21, 2004)

Seeing no one stepping up immediately, Malthas shrugs, and reaches down to his belt, pulling out a dagger.  He leans out towards Vemuz, and flicks his wrist, winging the dagger at a space in front of his feet.


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## Tonguez (Apr 22, 2004)

_Once when Malachi was a child, and fond of swimming out amongst the shark infested waters, Old Mogwi, his mother, had shown him the trick of calling sharks and even feeding them from her hand as if they were common dogs.

"Every beasts is a spirit" she had told him "the forms you see with your eyes are nothing but meat"_

Remembering the half-orc grinned and stood waiting for the kill to be made 

(_ooc still here_)


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## Bob Aberton (Apr 27, 2004)

(OOC:  You may have noticed my very infrequent posting lately.  Just as a heads-up, I'm in the middle of a very busy few months right now, so my posting will probably remain sporadic like this until at least the middle of May...)

Vemuz,

Malthas throws you a knife; you snatch it out of the air and hand it to your protege harpooner.

He grips the knife nervously, and as the shark's thrashing grows weaker, darts in and plunges the knife in, just aft of the shark's gills.  The fish convulses once more, spraying salty blood over you and the sailor, and dies.

Lem Harvey waits a few moments and then lowers the shark to the deck, where Mr. Lang strides over and places a bullet neatly into its skull, "just to be sure."  A stout, greasy-looking man in an apron, who you vaguely recognize as "Crackerhash Joe" Brody, the cook, who spends nearly all of his days behind the steaming coppers in the galley and rarely emerges into the sunlight, strides forward and hacks the shark's tail off with a cleaver.  The shark's tail is nailed to a board to cure in the sun, and the crew exchanges slaps on the back.

A good sign to be sure.

Malthas,

You toss the knife to Vemuz, who neatly snatches it out of the air and hands it to the sailor who harpooned the shark; he darts in and knifes the fish behind the gills, and "Crackerhash" Joe Brody, the cook (whom you only barely recognize as he seems never to emerge from the dank, steamy confines of the galley), chops its tail off with a cleaver.

"Good luck on this voyage, eh, Mr. Swifthand?" Captain McCrenshaw says happily.  "Mr. Lang, share out an allowance o' grog to th' crew!"

Malachi,

Malthas tosses a knife to Mr. Thriceborn, who hands it to the sailor who harpooned the shark.  He waits until the shark's struggling grows weaker, then darts in and sinks his knife in just aft of the fish's gills, spraying the spectators with salty shark's blood.

Mr. Lang puts a bullet into the shark's head just to be sure, and "Crackerhash" Joe Brody, the cook seems to live behind the steaming coppers in the galley, strides forward (blinking in the unaccustomed sunlight) and chops the shark's tail off with a cleaver.  The crew gives a celebratory shout and you hear the Captain order Mr. Lang to share out an allowance of grog to all hands.

A good omen for this voyage, to be sure.


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## kenjib (Apr 27, 2004)

Vemuz pats the side of the shark, looking up and down it's length to get  a better feel for it's size, now that it's no longer moving.  "Excellent job, hand.  We'll work some more on your technique later.  You've got a good hand at the harpoon!  For now, though, take the night off.  I'll take your shift tonight."

Vemuz overhears the call for grog.  "Mr. Lang, sir, with your leave make that two additional for the sailor here, as I promised."

Vemuz whirls on his heel to face the crew again as he begins to clap in time.  "Chantyman.  A song!"


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## Tonguez (Apr 27, 2004)

Malachi grins broadly and gives thanks to the Lady and the spirits for the fortuous catch. He also makes sure to tell whomsoever shall butcher the beast that its innards and entrails are to be reseved for his own use - though what use that maybe he does not deign to explain.

The turning to Vemuz and Malthas he joins the merriment "go'd catch swordfishar" he bellows as the chantyman stikes up a tune "If the Lady be willin, ye'll haf dat sailor harpoonin' like a twiceborn in no time yeh!"


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## dead_radish (Apr 28, 2004)

Malthas winks down.  "Aye, sir.  Good luck indeed, as long as you aren't a shark."  He calls down to Lang - "You can give the hand my grog, Mr. Lang.  He deserves it, no mistake.  And I'll stay with my own concoctions."  He reaches into a pouch, extracts a small flask, and salutes the shark, and the sea before taking a long pull.  When he closes the flask, his eyes are watering profusely, but his grin has grown as well.


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