Skull and Shackles

[MT the Clown]

Fifteen men on a dead man's chest
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum!
For you and the I have done forth the rest.
Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum.

We're going to play a little game. I've given you a nice little handicap, if you can overcome it, then all your petty little mortal desires will more or less be fulfilled. But of course, you're here to do something for me. But more on that later. I need you lot to be all you can be. Oh and um, good luck. OH! Before I forget, making friends will be a good idea. You'll see why in a bit.

Yo ho, yo ho. A pirate's life for ye!  

[MT the Clown]

Chapter 1: The Wormwood Mutiny

 

[MT the Clown]

As the odd voice begins a new song, it slowly fades away as you begin to regain consciousness. You can still vividly recall the experiences of the night before- the ringing laughter, the heady joy of excess, the scents of rich stewed meat and perfume still linger in your nostrils. But as quickly you can recall the sensations of the prior night, a pounding headache, the sickly taste of cheap wine in your mouth , a hard floor, the rhythmic creaking of the surrounding area, and the feeling of the room swaying as if you were still drunk drives away every possible pleasurable memory you could possibly recall. As some of you attempt to stand, the ground beneath you quickly lists in one direction causing you to stumble and fall back down. Before you can try again, several pairs of heavy footsteps enter the dark room and the harsh light of a lantern painfully spears your eyes. As you look up, you can see the face of a man who, initially looks as if in pain, but is in fact a clear attempt at smiling bruises his face. Beside him, six tough-looking men armed with saps accompany him. The leader cracks the whip he's carrying and screams at you, "Still in bed while the sun is over the yardarm? On your feet, ye filthy swabs! Get up on the deck and report for duty before Cap'n Harrigan flays your flesh into sausage skins and has Fishguts fry ye up for breakfast!"  

[Cowpies77]

Attempting to stand up again, Harper stumbles around a little more. Looking up and squinting, he tries to recollect the memories from the previous night. Mumbling to himself, he says "Well, s**t."

Stumbling to his feet, Harper -taking awkwardly long pauses near the end of his sentences as he tries to avoid stepping on the man and his 6 goons' toes- says "Uh, sorry... sir. I find that I appear to catch the wind more than most people and it causes me to sway so... sir. That and what I'm assuming is my first day on the job... sir." Eying the saps, he looks back at the main figure and says "Getting on my feet now... sir. Would not like the Captain -Gods bless him- to erm, flay my flesh into sausage skins... sir. Just to make sure, as I'm not quite sure how I got here... Just a second... sir."

Turning to the others, Harper smacks himself in the face and shouts "I'M ON A BOAT!"

Turning back to the taskmaster, Harper says "Just wanted to make sure this was real... sir. Can't be too careful... sir."  

[DM Draco Moondragon]

Xavier was slowly beginning to come to his senses. He must have had a lot to drink the night before, because it took quite a bit to get him drunk. "Ugh... What in Besmara's name happened?" He looked around, realizing this was a sailing vessel of some sort. "How did I end up here? I don't remember getting on a ship last night..." He shook his head and chuckled a little. "This reminds me far too much of when Mother would take me on her trips of piracy..." He slowly made his way out onto the deck, taking in the scent of the sea.  

[Jacior]

Damien lays on the wooden planks, feeling the rocking and swaying of the world. "... I'm on a boat, aren't I?" Memories slowly trickle into his mind. "Well, I am not bringing any food home anytime soon."

He felt around himself, unsurprised to find his armor and missing. What did surprise him was the fact that he still had the Gritzle Gun. Why would they leave that on him? Pirates, bizarre folk. But this was what Damien was looking for anyway! He clambered slowly to his feet, using the wall as a support. He heard the sound of Harper babbling about someth- Harper? Was he here too?

"Harper? Is that you? What have we gotten ourselves into?" He asks, wondering about the practicle use of sausage materials on a ship. "Erm... Sorry, sir. Just trying to get my bearings... and my ability to stand back."  

[Verne the Vaudevillian]

Mira Hasaan
Level 1 Rogue

The first thing Mira felt when she woke was pain. She felt like one hundred Dwarf percussionists deemed it a wise and fitting idea to use her cranium as a drum. And to replace their sticks with warhammers. She groaned and tried to stand, only managing to do so by the graces of Calistria, and realized the second thing she felt was dizziness. Were it able to, her head might be spinning like a top. It was the classic hangover, and proof positive that she had far, far too much to drink the previous night.

She leaned back against the wall and raised a hand to her head, then winced as her fingers passed over a large welt on her temple. "This can't be good," she mumbled. A night of drinking that ended up with her in some strange place she didn't recognize and a huge welt on her head. Had she committed some stupid crime that ended with the payoff of imprisonment? It sounded about right at first, but when she stepped away from the wall and suddenly found herself falling back against it she was hit with yet a third realization: she wasn't on shore anymore.

"Oh ******** all kinds of duck." Sobriety came very suddenly with that thought, and her fogged mind became all the clearer when the ear piercing crack of a whip echoed through the grungy chambers she and some few others had been holed up in.

"Still in bed while the sun is over the yardarm?" She looked over to the speaker, an ugly man who held the whip that garnered there attention. To make matters all the better, he was surrounded by a small gang of burly riffraff, each holding a sap. Well that explained the headache. At least, in part.

"On your feet, ye filthy swabs!" The taskmaster barked. "Get up on the deck and report for duty before Cap'n Harrigan flays your flesh into sausage skins and has Fishguts fry ye up for breakfast!"

That last bit came with an unpleasant mental image that Mira couldn't help but grimace at. Bad enough he talked about flaying their skins into sausages, but worse still, they called their cook Fishguts? That was just plain gross. But now wasn't the time to let nasty thoughts linger. She needed to assess her situation. Naturally, they'd taken her armor, but they did leave her with her boots at least. Maybe she'd get lucky and find they left one of her blades for her, still hidden inside. She brushed her legs together, acting as though she was regaining lost balance. No such fortune. Looked like Calistira's graces only went so far. Helping her stand would be today's limit. So, here she was with no arms, no armor, stuck on a ship out in the middle of Gods knew where with pirate kidnappers and a bunch of random strangers. What an absolutely lovely way to cap off what otherwise had been a glorious night.

Alright, so you're unarmed and armorless. Still have the skills to survive, if you're careful and avoid catching unwanted eyes. She glanced around the room, taking what little stock she could of the others present. Some help wouldn't hurt either. The first to speak certainly seemed an eccentric one. He tagged a careful "sir" at the end of each sentence. The other was probably the smartest of them, mumbling something incoherent and then heading straight to the deck. At least that way he wouldn't rouse the taskmaster's ire. Well, not yet at least. But the interesting bit came with the third. Apparently he knew the oddball, and he gave a name. Harper.

Either way, it would probably have to wait. She had a feeling she wouldn't be able to dilly dally around the hold for much longer before the taskmaster's patience ran out. If anything, people like him were at least predictable in that sense. Letting out a quiet sigh, she stepped forward and swallowed her pride. This was about survival, after all. "Where's the work that needs doing, sir?" And just as she asked her question, something in her gut told her she might come to regret it.  

[Cowpies77]

Jacior

Damien lays on the wooden planks, feeling the rocking and swaying of the world. "... I'm on a boat, aren't I?" Memories slowly trickle into his mind. "Well, I am not bringing any food home anytime soon."

"Take a good hard look, we're on a ******** boat, Damien." Harper says with a nod, helping the artificer up. "Going by appearances? I'd say we plum got ourselves erm...recruited by these charitable folk here.

Turning to the Vishkanya girl, Harper then offers out a hand and says "Questions later. Action now, miss. They don't be lookin' like the kind of folk you would care to upset, and it'd be a shame if they mar a face like yours." With a warm smile and a little wink, Harper continues "Now then, Up on your feet, or we'll probably be getting you ready for an funeral fit for an Undine."  

[Verne the Vaudevillian]

Mira Hasaan
Level 1 Rogue

Cowpies77

Turning to the Vishkanya girl, Harper then offers out a hand and says "Questions later. Action now, miss. They don't be lookin' like the kind of folk you would care to upset, and it'd be a shame if they mar a face like yours." With a warm smile and a little wink, Harper continues "Now then, Up on your feet, or we'll probably be getting you ready for an funeral fit for an Undine."

Just after asking her question the ship rolled again and Mira stumbled back. "s**t," she said under her breath, pale eyes averted from the taskmaster whom she hoped didn't see that slip-up. A moment later though, she was offered a hand. Harper's hand she realized. An eyebrow arched, she looked up at him as he spoke. Questions later, action now. A fair enough point, she supposed, though taking that action would be easier if the taskmaster actually told them what in the Hells to do. But then, as it always happened with men, Harper started to lay on the charms, complete with a smile and a wink.

Mira had to resist the very strong urge to roll her eyes. Yes, because thoughts of breeding with me are entirely appropriate right now. Well, the thought itself wasn't too bad, he was at least a little attractive. But that didn't make it any more appropriate. On a pirate ship in front of an angry taskmaster and 6 thugs was not the place to be thinking such thoughts. So go on then, get it out of your head! Shoo, naughty thoughts! And then, after she was rid of those thoughts, she finally took Harper's hand and stood.

"Thank you," she said, flashing him a brief smile. Hell, he already admitted to liking her looks. No sense in letting useful information go to waste, just so long as it didn't lead back to that bad, wicked, naughty Castle Anthrax orgy thoughts.

She cleared her throat. "Best not to lollygag, yes? Action now, as you put it," she said, stepping past him. "My name's Mira, by the way."

((Did I just put a Monty Python and the Holy Grail reference in there? Yes, yes I did ^-^))  

[DM Draco Moondragon]

Xavier finally stood on the deck and admired the waves. It had been far too long since he was out on the open sea. This unexpected trip may have been a blessing in disguise. He looked around and began to wonder. Hmm... I wonder if they have any rum around? Hair of the dog and all that...  

[Iblisor]

Jim
The Doctor

The wispy-haired man in the corner stirred a bit slower than everyone else, preferring the memories of the night before to the realities of the morning after.

Then the whip cracked and the familiar threats rolled in. He stood shakily and looked around at his new shipmates, they seemed like a more sturdy bunch than last time anyway, might be they'd make it through a voyage.

None of this analysis was conscious, and as usual, his mouth moved before he could, and a healthy dose of swearing that would make even a seasoned sailor bat an eye.

He sighed, shrugged and finally spoke coherently, "I've been ship's surgeon in the past, pleasure to be aboard."  

[Cowpies77]

Therren

"Thank you," she said, flashing him a brief smile.
She cleared her throat. "Best not to lollygag, yes? Action now, as you put it," she said, stepping past him. "My name's Mira, by the way."

Steadying himself and Damien, Harper says "My names Harper. This is my good mate Damien." Watching Mira move to the front, for the top decks, Harper says quietly to Damien "And this, gods help us, suddenly isn't looking all terrible." Coughing gently, Harper says a bit more in a normal voice Alrighty mates, let's go. Sausage-skin doesn't sound pleasant, after all." Harper leads Damien and Jim up top-side.  

[Jacior]

"It does look like things have gotten better..." Damien says amusedly in response. "Looks like bit of a biter, though." He winks at Harper and follows everyone out onto the decks.  

[MT the Clown]

As a few of you begin to progress up the stairs, one of the thugs turns to a corner in the room, "Oi! You! You think I don't see you whore! Get up!" As he sets down his lantern and disappears into the darkness, you can hear clothes ripping and a younger female voice pleading. As the distinctive sound of a slap rings out, two shadows from either corner of the room rush at the thug, prompting the taskmaster and the remaining thugs. The fight is practically unseen though the occasional limb land in the path of the errant beams of light. The conclusion of the fight is sounds when two thugs or possible one starts with a pained, "Ah. The little bilge rat bit me!" right before a high pitched squeal and a, "The old ******** got me sweets! He's got me sweets!" With several cracks of his whip, the taskmaster returns an picks up the lantern. Seeing the lot of you still lingering about, "You filths best be gone when I grab this lantern or it'll be you next!"

As you finally make it up to the main deck, it becomes apparent to you that this is a sizable ship and that you are in the middle of the vast ocean, far from any land. Figures cluster around the mainmast, looking up at the higher deck on the stern, you can see two figures. One of them is a broad, muscular Garundi man with a shaven head, a long beard bound with golden rings, and an eye patch- clearly the captain. The other is younger, balding man with a ponytail, wearing along coat, and carrying a well-used cat-o'-nine-tails. As you look around you can see that other that the people in the same as you were, there are at least four other new "recruits", set apart by their relative cleanliness and apparent unease with their newfound situation. Addressing his crew, "Glad you can join us at last! Welcome to the Wormwood! My thanks for 'volunteering' to join my crew. I'm Barnabas Harrigan. That's Captain Barnabas Harrigan to you, not that you'll ever need to address me. I have only one rule-don't speak to me. I like talk, but I don't like your talk. Follow that rule and we'll get along just fine. Oh, and one more thing. Even with new recruits, we're still short-handed, and I aim to keep what crew I have. There'll be a keelhaulin' for anyone caught killin' anyone. Mr. Plugg! If you'd be so kind as to make pirates out of these landlubbers, it'll save me having to put them in the sweatbox for a year and a day before I make pies out of them."  

[MT the Clown]

As Captain Barnabas Harrigan begins to turn and return to his quarters, an man stumbles onto the deck clutching his right side. The man is just a year past his prime and is wearing a peculiar type of green uniform. As the thugs return to the top deck, three of them each restraining a prisoner in their arms, another, who seems to be walking very weird, waddles up and kicks the downed man on his right side. As the man howls in pain and the thug winds up for another kick, Captain Barnabas simply holds up his hand and all actions on the deck cease. "Explain Master Scourge." Stepping forward, the taskmaster now identified as Master Scourge speaks, "We were getting the new recruits when this one attacked. He grabs my lad here by his sweets. Had to subdue him."

"Is that so? In that case, the punishment is clear. Disobedience of a commanding officer and unprovoked attack, fifty lashes Master Scourge!"

"Aye Cap'n! With pleasure." As Scourge taunts his whip, Captain Barnabas walks down from the upper level and on to the main deck, "Nay! Belay that! I shall administer the punishment myself and it shall be fifty upon his back before the mast! Boys! Get him up-" Standing up in defiance, the man stares dead into the captain's eyes. While no words pass through either's lips something was said. "Master Scourge. You said the attack was unprovoked."

"Uh, sir?"

"If the attack was unprovoked, then explain to me the sorry state the ladies' clothes are in as well as the boy's bruises? Sailor! This man grabbed your sweets was it?"

"Aye?" Swiftly turning around, Captain Barnabas grabs the man in the nether regions, who immediately begins withering like a plant, "You stabbed this man who was defending his companions. Because of the state he is in, he will be unable to work. You will work double his duties one top of your own. You fail to do either and forty of his lashes goes to you. Fail both! And you'll be keelhauled with Magpie tonight! Understood?"

"..a-aye...sir...."

"UNDERSTOOD!?"

"AYE SIR!!" Pointing the whip at the man before turning to the ladies, "You still owe me ten lashes. This is my mercy. I don't care what you did prior. You will work as a sailor or become their entertainment. Either ways, you will work." Shoving the whip back into the hands of Scourge, the captain retires into his chambers.