Day four: Eighteenth of Kythorn, 1492 DR (shift 2) - The Southern region of the Trackless Sea, approx. 40 miles from Shore (SE of Rumbottom)
The sailors of complement two take their ease across the ship, some in their hammocks, others up on deck, while their crew mates work to the keep the Shore Shark cutting cleanly across the Trackless Sea. Those off-duty are left to their own devices and not summoned forth before their shift is due... a sure fire sign that no disaster had befallen the pirate hunting vessel during this time.
The bright sun overhead has just started its descent when the First Mate and Bosun's shouts echo across the ship, sending the crew of complement one to their rest and summoning forth complement two to take their stations. Captain Aundrey is nowhere to be seen, but the faint *yelping* of Token can be heard coming from the ship master's cabin. Bosun Drannick pauses before departing the aftcastle and, with a sly wink to First Mate E'strue, shouts out over the deck,
"Me and the other lads n' lasses 'ave set a goodly pace and left her in fine form fer ye all. We expect things to be much the same when we return!"
A few of the complement one sailors call out things like "Too right!" and "She bloody well better be!" before slapping their ship mates on the shoulders and backs as they hand over control of the ship. The blustery wind continues to fill the sails, yanking lines this way and that, as a few mostly white clouds race across the blue sky overhead.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Ferris swings his feet over the side of the hammock and stands stretching mightily. He works his left shoulder, rotating his arm to ease some of the stiffness thanks to an old injury. He walks steadily to a peg on the wall and takes up his jacket moving for the access to the deck.
Once up and in the open air he swirls the long coat out and onto his back, it laying comfortably in its usual place. He moves to the Officer on deck, "Any instructions or news before I take my place ma'am?”
A'ro smiles as his shift starts and moves to find Ferris, trying to find the information about the archer "Are you Ferris?"he asks holding out his hand "I'm A'ro, I heard from some of the crew you may have seen an archer? Could you tell me about that?" he asks looking at him.
"Oh, yes gladly. As I told the First Mate it was while I had to perch on the lower yard due to that magical silence," he shakes the offered hand firmly. "I happened to see out of the corner of my eye someone in my barrel up to shooting a bow. Couldn't see any other details really beyond a cloak though. I am sure they hit their mark and I don't reckon it was a blunted arrow."
The man looked out toward the bow of the ship, his eyes taking in their heading.
A'ro nods looking around "By chance did you see anyone around the barrel when the shot was made?" his mind beginning to build a plan now that he has a location.
Ferris looks back to A'ro, his expression puzzled, "Aye, I did. There was someone in the barrel, with a bow. Wore a heavy cloak though I could not see who it was." He cocked his head looking strangely at the master of sail before seeming to shake it off.
A'ro just blinks looking at Ferris as he begins to ask his next question "Yes we established that. I mean was there another sailor in the nearby area that might be able to help provide further information on this incident?"
Ferris then nods in recognition, "I see now. Well there was the rigging rats on the ropes as usual and that timid sweet lass Kay was up on the Foremast. Perhaps one them?"
Kestrell rises before shift 2 is slated to be on duty, his book still open on his chest where he fell asleep reading it. After splashing some water in his face and getting a quick bite to eat, he strolls into the Navigation room and looks through the logs from Shift 1. Not seeing anything amiss, Kestrell will go topside to take some compass measurements, wind speed and direction measurements and then double check that they are where they think they are.
With maps unfurled, he offers a slight course correction to the pilot.
Ferris swings his feet over the side of the hammock and stands stretching mightily. He works his left shoulder, rotating his arm to ease some of the stiffness thanks to an old injury. He walks steadily to a peg on the wall and takes up his jacket moving for the access to the deck.
Once up and in the open air he swirls the long coat out and onto his back, it laying comfortably in its usual place. He moves to the Officer on deck, "Any instructions or news before I take my place ma'am?”
As Ferris leaves his hammock and climbs through the ship, he is clapped on the back and given nods of thanks by a number of other sailors along the way. "Well done, mate." "A bloody fine shot that!" As the look out emerges onto the deck, a well-built, tattooed sailor with long, brown dreadlocks gives him a playful punch in the arm as he walks past, saying in the rich, rolling tongue spoken by many of the Islander peoples born off the Bitter Shore,
"Aye, mon. Ay 'eard t'was a titanic shot ya made dis mornin', mon! Nice, nice, nice. Da name is Enzio. I be seein' ya 'round, mon."
A singsong chuckle reaches the slightly bewildered Ferris' ears from overhead, and the experienced sailor looks up to see the dark, smiling face of Zaretta grinning down at him from the aftmast rigging. The clearly amused woman shouts down,
"Thought I'd spread the word of your... fine form, this morning, Mr. lookout. It never hurts to impress the masses. Hope you don't mind!"
The leather clad sail monkey dissapears higher up the mast before Ferris has a chance to respond.
The First Mate is atop the aft castle handling the wheel herself in the absence of Unne, though you notice the rotund dwarf with the flaming red hair and beard is beside her. The two seem to arguing about something,
"Look here, Argrin. I didn't expect that Una lass to leave sudden like as she did, but if I tell ye that yer now a Senior Sailor, then yer a bloody Senior Sailor... got it? It just means spendin' a little more time with the officers and a little less time fondlin' yer catapult!"
"But damn it, woman... Ahh, sorry, I mean, First Mate. I durned told you that Hurley and the others need me! Even that dunderhead Unne said so... Err, I mean the good Weapons Master, of course."
The silent form of the black dragonborn standing with his arms crossed at the bottom of the aftcastle stair seems to be ignoring the exchange, scanning the deck instead and watching all nearby sailors carefully. His steady gaze settles on Ferris as he approaches. At Ferris' inquiry, the First Mate sternly raises a finger to quiet Argrin's next complaint and turns to the lookout to say,
"We've got a few days till we hit the Knuckles and little of note between here and there. Should be fairly clear sailin', but ye never know. Get to yer post... but remember what I said about eyes up and below."
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Kestrell rises before shift 2 is slated to be on duty, his book still open on his chest where he fell asleep reading it. After splashing some water in his face and getting a quick bite to eat, he strolls into the Navigation room and looks through the logs from Shift 1. Not seeing anything amiss, Kestrell will go topside to take some compass measurements, wind speed and direction measurements and then double check that they are where they think they are.
With maps unfurled, he offers a slight course correction to the pilot. Survival: 9
"It won't be long now!"
Kestrell will then take the spyglass and do a slow 360, looking for whales, dolphins, land masses that shouldn't be there, and any other ship masts. Perception: 5
Unpacking the box of navigational tools and putting them all to full use for the first time, Kestrell sets up atop the forecastle near the bowsprit. A number of crew take note of the Navigator's work, calling out things like, "Good to see we're in capable hands, Sir!" and "Hope the sea is feelin' generous today, Master Navigator?"
Having taken his bearings and measurements, the handsome ships officer calls out his coarse correction, which gains him a shout of "Aye, Mr. Navigator. Understood!" from the First Mate at the wheel. As the salt-heavy wind blows through the officer's hair, he raises the spyglass to scan the horizon but is puzzled to note that the images he sees through the instrument are blurred and indistinct. Examining the spyglass closely, Kestrell notices a hardened smear of something on the outside lens of the device.
While the Navigator murmers largely to himself, a nearby crewman on the forecastle must have overhead the brief comment. The short, dark haired sailor in a faded red shirt and green three-quarter pants, who has the slightly exotic features of someone with Far-Eastern heritage, continues to trim the jib sails as he asks over his shoulder,
"Ahh, what was that, sir? What won't be long, if you don't mind me askin'?"
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vaken rises and heads to the galley to see if Nibs had started on supper yet. If so, he helps finish it up. If not, he starts it.
"Nibs my man, those coming off shift are going to hungry. Let's take good care of 'em."
Cooking skill check: 21
Entering the galley, Vaken sees that Nibs is indeed inside. For once, the pudgy half-orc does not seem to have his tattooing needles around and is instead laddling broth into large mugs. A couple of platters of broken up bread, still smelling relatively fresh, sit on a nearby counter. Watcing the goliath cook begin to work, Nibs grins his tusky smile and nods agreeably,
"Aye, Mr. Vaken. I've not started supper, but 've boiled up one of me old ma's soups and broken some bread for thems comin' off duty. What'chya gunna make?"
[OOC] Nice roll! Whatever Vaken's making, it's going to be good and I want some. ;)
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D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
Vaken rises and heads to the galley to see if Nibs had started on supper yet. If so, he helps finish it up. If not, he starts it.
"Nibs my man, those coming off shift are going to hungry. Let's take good care of 'em."
Cooking skill check: 21
Entering the galley, Vaken sees that Nibs is indeed inside. For once, the pudgy half-orc does not seem to have his tattooing needles around and is instead laddling broth into large mugs. A couple of platters of broken up bread, still smelling relatively fresh, sit on a nearby counter. Watcing the goliath cook begin to work, Nibs grins his tusky smile and nods agreeably,
"Aye, Mr. Vaken. I've not started supper, but 've boiled up one of me old ma's soups and broken some bread for thems comin' off duty. What'chya gunna make?"
[OOC] Nice roll! Whatever Vaken's making, it's going to be good and I want some. ;)
"Soup and bread? Can't go wrong there. Very nice Nibs, very nice. Let's not forget I promised everyone an extra ration of grog tonight for winning the race. As for tonight's supper, I think I'll go a little above and beyond. Don't want to set the bar too high, but give the crew a taste of the good stuff only the officers usually get."
And with that Vaken starts digging through the larder pulling out ingredients. "I think we'll have some boucan and we'll cover it in an mango chutney. Pay attention Mr Nibs, this is something you'll be able to make quite easily. See these here? When the mango is young, they cut them in two pieces, and pickled them with salt and vinegar. We're going to take that and add in some cloves of garlic. This is an excellent sauce, and easily made... iffin we have pickled mango aboard. And we can use it again later once some of our stores start to age, to hide the taste of the less than fresh meat. Thankfully we don't have that problem yet." Vaken continues working and attempting to teach Nibs where he can but is careful not to overload the man. Just a little knowledge at a time. It's how he was taught and it was how he would teach. Soon the meat is ready and they start to fix plates for all the officers, careful to ensure it's presentation is done right, "Now you and I don't care about such things, but the captain and some of these officers, while good people, they expect certain niceties. So we see that they get what they like. It makes them happy which makes us happy, get it?" Once the meat is placed on each plate, the chutney is carefully poured over it. Then Vaken makes one more round sprinkling a light dusting of cashews on each plate. Nibs adds the piece of bread to each plate and the fancy dinners are done. "Good job Mr. Nibs, good job. Now, for us common folks, let's add the rest of the meat straight into the chutney sauce, stir it and let it simmer. The officer's plates will look better but the crew's bowls will taste better with the ingredients simmering together like that."
"Soup and bread? Can't go wrong there. Very nice Nibs, very nice. Let's not forget I promised everyone an extra ration of grog tonight for winning the race. As for tonight's supper, I think I'll go a little above and beyond. Don't want to set the bar too high, but give the crew a taste of the good stuff only the officers usually get."
And with that Vaken starts digging through the larder pulling out ingredients. "I think we'll have some boucan and we'll cover it in an mango chutney. Pay attention Mr Nibs, this is something you'll be able to make quite easily. See these here? When the mango is young, they cut them in two pieces, and pickled them with salt and vinegar. We're going to take that and add in some cloves of garlic. This is an excellent sauce, and easily made... iffin we have pickled mango aboard. And we can use it again later once some of our stores start to age, to hide the taste of the less than fresh meat. Thankfully we don't have that problem yet." Vaken continues working and attempting to teach Nibs where he can but is careful not to overload the man. Just a little knowledge at a time. It's how he was taught and it was how he would teach. Soon the meat is ready and they start to fix plates for all the officers, careful to ensure it's presentation is done right, "Now you and I don't care about such things, but the captain and some of these officers, while good people, they expect certain niceties. So we see that they get what they like. It makes them happy which makes us happy, get it?" Once the meat is placed on each plate, the chutney is carefully poured over it. Then Vaken makes one more round sprinkling a light dusting of cashews on each plate. Nibs adds the piece of bread to each plate and the fancy dinners are done. "Good job Mr. Nibs, good job. Now, for us common folks, let's add the rest of the meat straight into the chutney sauce, stir it and let it simmer. The officer's plates will look better but the crew's bowls will taste better with the ingredients simmering together like that."
The enticing smells of mango chutney, garlic and cooking meat soon permeate the galley and the rest of the lower deck. It was fairly obvious that Nibs had been quite proud of his effort with the soup and bread, since Vaken had complimented his work and only 2 members of the crew had complained about the fare so far, but looking on at a real cook in action the heavily tattooed half-orc seems both humbled and engrossed by what his superior is doing. Nodding at his bosses reminder about the promise of extra grog, Nibs heads below to the hold and carts up both a barrel of ale and a small keg of rum.
Almost salivating as he returns to watch Vaken cook, eagerly assisting where he can, Nibs says,
"Boucan? Mango... chutney? Wow, Mr. Vaken. That done look and smell like truly great eats! You really think ye can teach me to cook like this? I ain't ever seen no ship food like this 'afore."
As the two are working in the kitchen, a gold elf sailor with silvery eyes, golden skin and intricately plaited blonde hair pops her head into the galley to tell Vaken,
"Pardon the interruption, Sir. The First Mate asked me to inform you that Captain Aundrey would like dinner served in the Officers Lounge at sunset."
[OOC] Let's say that with prep, cooking and all the other little things you have to do, Vaken would still have a few hours to do other things during this shift if he wishes to. Nibs is happy to tend the meal and clean up afterwards.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
"Until we get to where we are going! We are right on course, I'm sure of it!"
Kestrell pokes at the smear on the lens, can it be cleaned off? Is it blue frosting?
Investigation: 6
The shorter sailor nods his head, seemingly pleased at the confidence displayed by the Navigator, but doesn't pause in his work tightening and loosening the lines on the triangular spar sails attached to the foremast. He merely says conversationally over one shoulder,
"Of course. Good to hear, sir. Must admit that I don't know these waters so well. I'm a Fireshear man meself."
Examining the spyglass lens, Kestrell can't readily tell what the hardened gunk is smeared on the end of the expensive piece of equipment.
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D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
"Pardon the interruption, Sir. The First Mate asked me to inform you that Captain Aundrey would like dinner served in the Officers Lounge at sunset."
[OOC] Let's say that with prep, cooking and all the other little things you have to do, Vaken would still have a few hours to do other things during this shift if he wishes to. Nibs is happy to tend the meal and clean up afterwards.
"Then at sunset the fine captain shall have it. Thank you for letting me know, sir."
Vaken continues working in the galley until about 40 minutes prior to sunset when he has Nibs take over while he goes and gets cleaned up. He doesn't want to go in wearing clothes with food stains on them. Just before sunset he returns and carefully loads the plates of food and an extra basket of bread on a tray to carry up. Looking to Nibs, "If you would, grab that rum keg and follow me please. Some of the officers I think will like that better than the wine the captain no doubt has."
Kay wakes up with a start, grabbing at Rudd's belt satchel as it nearly goes flying out of the hammock. She manages to secure it, but only just, and the jostling of the bag is accompanied by a few squeaks of protest.
"Gods, 've gone an' overslept!" Kay half-shouts as she leaps out of her hammock and starts to run up the stairs. A step or two up she realizes that she's still in her smallclothes and returns to her chest, digging through it and pulling on her dark hooded shirt and black breeches, lacing her boots hastily. She sprints up the stairs two at a time, without even a split second to appreciate the heavenly scent drifting toward her from the galley.
On the deck, she looks around hesitantly, clearly flustered, hair matted from sleep. She looks up at the mainmast and starts to climb, hoping she can start attending to her duties without too much notice.
Kay wakes up with a start, grabbing at Rudd's belt satchel as it nearly goes flying out of the hammock. She manages to secure it, but only just, and the jostling of the bag is accompanied by a few squeaks of protest.
"Gods, 've gone an' overslept!" Kay half-shouts as she leaps out of her hammock and starts to run up the stairs. A step or two up she realizes that she's still in her smallclothes and returns to her chest, digging through it and pulling on her dark hooded shirt and black breeches, lacing her boots hastily. She sprints up the stairs two at a time, without even a split second to appreciate the heavenly scent drifting toward her from the galley.
On the deck, she looks around hesitantly, clearly flustered, hair matted from sleep. She looks up at the mainmast and starts to climb, hoping she can start attending to her duties without too much notice.
As Kay realises her state of undress two rungs up the ladder and turns to get changed, she notices across the hold the leering visage of a tall, heavily muscled half-orc with various black sun tattoos on his arms, neck and even his left cheek. The menacing sailor's too-tight black leather vest and pants audibly stretch as he stands up from his berth where it looks like he was just resting after his shift. Trying and failing to appear casual and unthreatening, the half-orc takes a step forward, muttering,
"Hello, little slayer. Need some help getting dressed? I could..."
The half-orc is pulled up short by an equally deep voice arising from the hammock next to his. The voice is coming from a much shorter but even more heavily muscled dwarven woman with wild red tresses,
"Shut yer ****in' trap, ye lecherous tusker. I'm tryin' ta ****in' sleep 'ere. In fact..."
The dwarf's boot suddenly lashes out from her hammock, catching the half-orc right in the groin, eliciting an pained *URGHK* from the leather clad sailor, doubling him over and sitting him on the floor of the Orlep Deck in the bargain. A few chuckles arise from various occupied hammocks and the half-orc begins to rise with fury written across his pock-marked face, when a third, calmer but equally serious voice carries down from starboard side of the hold, from the closest berth to the prow,
"I suggest you take your medicine and leave it at that, Yunst. You haven't broken the code... yet. Or do I need to get the First Mate, Bosun or Weapons Master down here? No? Good."
The steady glare of Senior Sailor Lionel and the potentially serious consequences of his threat seem enough to cow the beligerant half-orc, who turns back to lie face down on his hammock. Ignoring the brief commotion as best she can, Kay quickly gets changed and hurries up to the deck before climbing topside. True to the halfling's word, Kay sees Freya tying lines at the top of the foremast. The new lookout Ferris looks to be atop the mainmast, while ol' Jart seems to be helping out in mizzenmast in the absence of the still unwell Fillian.
Glancing around nervously, Kay spots the First Mate steering the helm atop the aftcastle. Fortunately for the tardy young sailor, the senior officer does not seem to have noticed her late arrival.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
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Day four: Eighteenth of Kythorn, 1492 DR (shift 2) - The Southern region of the Trackless Sea, approx. 40 miles from Shore (SE of Rumbottom)
The sailors of complement two take their ease across the ship, some in their hammocks, others up on deck, while their crew mates work to the keep the Shore Shark cutting cleanly across the Trackless Sea. Those off-duty are left to their own devices and not summoned forth before their shift is due... a sure fire sign that no disaster had befallen the pirate hunting vessel during this time.
The bright sun overhead has just started its descent when the First Mate and Bosun's shouts echo across the ship, sending the crew of complement one to their rest and summoning forth complement two to take their stations. Captain Aundrey is nowhere to be seen, but the faint *yelping* of Token can be heard coming from the ship master's cabin. Bosun Drannick pauses before departing the aftcastle and, with a sly wink to First Mate E'strue, shouts out over the deck,
"Me and the other lads n' lasses 'ave set a goodly pace and left her in fine form fer ye all. We expect things to be much the same when we return!"
A few of the complement one sailors call out things like "Too right!" and "She bloody well better be!" before slapping their ship mates on the shoulders and backs as they hand over control of the ship. The blustery wind continues to fill the sails, yanking lines this way and that, as a few mostly white clouds race across the blue sky overhead.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
Ferris swings his feet over the side of the hammock and stands stretching mightily. He works his left shoulder, rotating his arm to ease some of the stiffness thanks to an old injury. He walks steadily to a peg on the wall and takes up his jacket moving for the access to the deck.
Once up and in the open air he swirls the long coat out and onto his back, it laying comfortably in its usual place. He moves to the Officer on deck, "Any instructions or news before I take my place ma'am?”
A'ro smiles as his shift starts and moves to find Ferris, trying to find the information about the archer "Are you Ferris?" he asks holding out his hand "I'm A'ro, I heard from some of the crew you may have seen an archer? Could you tell me about that?" he asks looking at him.
Campaigns:
Wildemount: The Felderwin Irregulars (2020) - Balassar Silverstone - Dragonborn Fighter (Rune Knight) Lv. 5 | Rise of TIamat - Aiwin Aralana - Wood Elf Fighter/Ranger (Arcane Archer/Gloom Stalker) Lv. 9
"Oh, yes gladly. As I told the First Mate it was while I had to perch on the lower yard due to that magical silence," he shakes the offered hand firmly. "I happened to see out of the corner of my eye someone in my barrel up to shooting a bow. Couldn't see any other details really beyond a cloak though. I am sure they hit their mark and I don't reckon it was a blunted arrow."
The man looked out toward the bow of the ship, his eyes taking in their heading.
A'ro nods looking around "By chance did you see anyone around the barrel when the shot was made?" his mind beginning to build a plan now that he has a location.
Campaigns:
Wildemount: The Felderwin Irregulars (2020) - Balassar Silverstone - Dragonborn Fighter (Rune Knight) Lv. 5 | Rise of TIamat - Aiwin Aralana - Wood Elf Fighter/Ranger (Arcane Archer/Gloom Stalker) Lv. 9
Ferris looks back to A'ro, his expression puzzled, "Aye, I did. There was someone in the barrel, with a bow. Wore a heavy cloak though I could not see who it was." He cocked his head looking strangely at the master of sail before seeming to shake it off.
A'ro just blinks looking at Ferris as he begins to ask his next question "Yes we established that. I mean was there another sailor in the nearby area that might be able to help provide further information on this incident?"
Campaigns:
Wildemount: The Felderwin Irregulars (2020) - Balassar Silverstone - Dragonborn Fighter (Rune Knight) Lv. 5 | Rise of TIamat - Aiwin Aralana - Wood Elf Fighter/Ranger (Arcane Archer/Gloom Stalker) Lv. 9
Ferris then nods in recognition, "I see now. Well there was the rigging rats on the ropes as usual and that timid sweet lass Kay was up on the Foremast. Perhaps one them?"
Kestrell rises before shift 2 is slated to be on duty, his book still open on his chest where he fell asleep reading it. After splashing some water in his face and getting a quick bite to eat, he strolls into the Navigation room and looks through the logs from Shift 1. Not seeing anything amiss, Kestrell will go topside to take some compass measurements, wind speed and direction measurements and then double check that they are where they think they are.
With maps unfurled, he offers a slight course correction to the pilot.
Survival: 9
"It won't be long now!"
Kestrell will then take the spyglass and do a slow 360, looking for whales, dolphins, land masses that shouldn't be there, and any other ship masts.
Perception: 5
Vaken rises and heads to the galley to see if Nibs had started on supper yet. If so, he helps finish it up. If not, he starts it.
"Nibs my man, those coming off shift are going to hungry. Let's take good care of 'em."
Cooking skill check: 13
Campaigns:
DM - Waterdeep Dragon Heist PbP
As Ferris leaves his hammock and climbs through the ship, he is clapped on the back and given nods of thanks by a number of other sailors along the way. "Well done, mate." "A bloody fine shot that!" As the look out emerges onto the deck, a well-built, tattooed sailor with long, brown dreadlocks gives him a playful punch in the arm as he walks past, saying in the rich, rolling tongue spoken by many of the Islander peoples born off the Bitter Shore,
"Aye, mon. Ay 'eard t'was a titanic shot ya made dis mornin', mon! Nice, nice, nice. Da name is Enzio. I be seein' ya 'round, mon."
A singsong chuckle reaches the slightly bewildered Ferris' ears from overhead, and the experienced sailor looks up to see the dark, smiling face of Zaretta grinning down at him from the aftmast rigging. The clearly amused woman shouts down,
"Thought I'd spread the word of your... fine form, this morning, Mr. lookout. It never hurts to impress the masses. Hope you don't mind!"
The leather clad sail monkey dissapears higher up the mast before Ferris has a chance to respond.
The First Mate is atop the aft castle handling the wheel herself in the absence of Unne, though you notice the rotund dwarf with the flaming red hair and beard is beside her. The two seem to arguing about something,
"Look here, Argrin. I didn't expect that Una lass to leave sudden like as she did, but if I tell ye that yer now a Senior Sailor, then yer a bloody Senior Sailor... got it? It just means spendin' a little more time with the officers and a little less time fondlin' yer catapult!"
"But damn it, woman... Ahh, sorry, I mean, First Mate. I durned told you that Hurley and the others need me! Even that dunderhead Unne said so... Err, I mean the good Weapons Master, of course."
The silent form of the black dragonborn standing with his arms crossed at the bottom of the aftcastle stair seems to be ignoring the exchange, scanning the deck instead and watching all nearby sailors carefully. His steady gaze settles on Ferris as he approaches. At Ferris' inquiry, the First Mate sternly raises a finger to quiet Argrin's next complaint and turns to the lookout to say,
"We've got a few days till we hit the Knuckles and little of note between here and there. Should be fairly clear sailin', but ye never know. Get to yer post... but remember what I said about eyes up and below."
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
Unpacking the box of navigational tools and putting them all to full use for the first time, Kestrell sets up atop the forecastle near the bowsprit. A number of crew take note of the Navigator's work, calling out things like, "Good to see we're in capable hands, Sir!" and "Hope the sea is feelin' generous today, Master Navigator?"
Having taken his bearings and measurements, the handsome ships officer calls out his coarse correction, which gains him a shout of "Aye, Mr. Navigator. Understood!" from the First Mate at the wheel. As the salt-heavy wind blows through the officer's hair, he raises the spyglass to scan the horizon but is puzzled to note that the images he sees through the instrument are blurred and indistinct. Examining the spyglass closely, Kestrell notices a hardened smear of something on the outside lens of the device.
While the Navigator murmers largely to himself, a nearby crewman on the forecastle must have overhead the brief comment. The short, dark haired sailor in a faded red shirt and green three-quarter pants, who has the slightly exotic features of someone with Far-Eastern heritage, continues to trim the jib sails as he asks over his shoulder,
"Ahh, what was that, sir? What won't be long, if you don't mind me askin'?"
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
Entering the galley, Vaken sees that Nibs is indeed inside. For once, the pudgy half-orc does not seem to have his tattooing needles around and is instead laddling broth into large mugs. A couple of platters of broken up bread, still smelling relatively fresh, sit on a nearby counter. Watcing the goliath cook begin to work, Nibs grins his tusky smile and nods agreeably,
"Aye, Mr. Vaken. I've not started supper, but 've boiled up one of me old ma's soups and broken some bread for thems comin' off duty. What'chya gunna make?"
[OOC] Nice roll! Whatever Vaken's making, it's going to be good and I want some. ;)
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
"Soup and bread? Can't go wrong there. Very nice Nibs, very nice. Let's not forget I promised everyone an extra ration of grog tonight for winning the race. As for tonight's supper, I think I'll go a little above and beyond. Don't want to set the bar too high, but give the crew a taste of the good stuff only the officers usually get."
And with that Vaken starts digging through the larder pulling out ingredients. "I think we'll have some boucan and we'll cover it in an mango chutney. Pay attention Mr Nibs, this is something you'll be able to make quite easily. See these here? When the mango is young, they cut them in two pieces, and pickled them with salt and vinegar. We're going to take that and add in some cloves of garlic. This is an excellent sauce, and easily made... iffin we have pickled mango aboard. And we can use it again later once some of our stores start to age, to hide the taste of the less than fresh meat. Thankfully we don't have that problem yet." Vaken continues working and attempting to teach Nibs where he can but is careful not to overload the man. Just a little knowledge at a time. It's how he was taught and it was how he would teach. Soon the meat is ready and they start to fix plates for all the officers, careful to ensure it's presentation is done right, "Now you and I don't care about such things, but the captain and some of these officers, while good people, they expect certain niceties. So we see that they get what they like. It makes them happy which makes us happy, get it?" Once the meat is placed on each plate, the chutney is carefully poured over it. Then Vaken makes one more round sprinkling a light dusting of cashews on each plate. Nibs adds the piece of bread to each plate and the fancy dinners are done. "Good job Mr. Nibs, good job. Now, for us common folks, let's add the rest of the meat straight into the chutney sauce, stir it and let it simmer. The officer's plates will look better but the crew's bowls will taste better with the ingredients simmering together like that."
Campaigns:
DM - Waterdeep Dragon Heist PbP
"Until we get to where we are going! We are right on course, I'm sure of it!"
Kestrell pokes at the smear on the lens, can it be cleaned off? Is it blue frosting?
Investigation: 10
The enticing smells of mango chutney, garlic and cooking meat soon permeate the galley and the rest of the lower deck. It was fairly obvious that Nibs had been quite proud of his effort with the soup and bread, since Vaken had complimented his work and only 2 members of the crew had complained about the fare so far, but looking on at a real cook in action the heavily tattooed half-orc seems both humbled and engrossed by what his superior is doing. Nodding at his bosses reminder about the promise of extra grog, Nibs heads below to the hold and carts up both a barrel of ale and a small keg of rum.
Almost salivating as he returns to watch Vaken cook, eagerly assisting where he can, Nibs says,
"Boucan? Mango... chutney? Wow, Mr. Vaken. That done look and smell like truly great eats! You really think ye can teach me to cook like this? I ain't ever seen no ship food like this 'afore."
As the two are working in the kitchen, a gold elf sailor with silvery eyes, golden skin and intricately plaited blonde hair pops her head into the galley to tell Vaken,
"Pardon the interruption, Sir. The First Mate asked me to inform you that Captain Aundrey would like dinner served in the Officers Lounge at sunset."
[OOC] Let's say that with prep, cooking and all the other little things you have to do, Vaken would still have a few hours to do other things during this shift if he wishes to. Nibs is happy to tend the meal and clean up afterwards.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
The shorter sailor nods his head, seemingly pleased at the confidence displayed by the Navigator, but doesn't pause in his work tightening and loosening the lines on the triangular spar sails attached to the foremast. He merely says conversationally over one shoulder,
"Of course. Good to hear, sir. Must admit that I don't know these waters so well. I'm a Fireshear man meself."
Examining the spyglass lens, Kestrell can't readily tell what the hardened gunk is smeared on the end of the expensive piece of equipment.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea
"Then at sunset the fine captain shall have it. Thank you for letting me know, sir."
Vaken continues working in the galley until about 40 minutes prior to sunset when he has Nibs take over while he goes and gets cleaned up. He doesn't want to go in wearing clothes with food stains on them. Just before sunset he returns and carefully loads the plates of food and an extra basket of bread on a tray to carry up. Looking to Nibs, "If you would, grab that rum keg and follow me please. Some of the officers I think will like that better than the wine the captain no doubt has."
Campaigns:
DM - Waterdeep Dragon Heist PbP
Kay wakes up with a start, grabbing at Rudd's belt satchel as it nearly goes flying out of the hammock. She manages to secure it, but only just, and the jostling of the bag is accompanied by a few squeaks of protest.
"Gods, 've gone an' overslept!" Kay half-shouts as she leaps out of her hammock and starts to run up the stairs. A step or two up she realizes that she's still in her smallclothes and returns to her chest, digging through it and pulling on her dark hooded shirt and black breeches, lacing her boots hastily. She sprints up the stairs two at a time, without even a split second to appreciate the heavenly scent drifting toward her from the galley.
On the deck, she looks around hesitantly, clearly flustered, hair matted from sleep. She looks up at the mainmast and starts to climb, hoping she can start attending to her duties without too much notice.
~♡~
As Kay realises her state of undress two rungs up the ladder and turns to get changed, she notices across the hold the leering visage of a tall, heavily muscled half-orc with various black sun tattoos on his arms, neck and even his left cheek. The menacing sailor's too-tight black leather vest and pants audibly stretch as he stands up from his berth where it looks like he was just resting after his shift. Trying and failing to appear casual and unthreatening, the half-orc takes a step forward, muttering,
"Hello, little slayer. Need some help getting dressed? I could..."
The half-orc is pulled up short by an equally deep voice arising from the hammock next to his. The voice is coming from a much shorter but even more heavily muscled dwarven woman with wild red tresses,
"Shut yer ****in' trap, ye lecherous tusker. I'm tryin' ta ****in' sleep 'ere. In fact..."
The dwarf's boot suddenly lashes out from her hammock, catching the half-orc right in the groin, eliciting an pained *URGHK* from the leather clad sailor, doubling him over and sitting him on the floor of the Orlep Deck in the bargain. A few chuckles arise from various occupied hammocks and the half-orc begins to rise with fury written across his pock-marked face, when a third, calmer but equally serious voice carries down from starboard side of the hold, from the closest berth to the prow,
"I suggest you take your medicine and leave it at that, Yunst. You haven't broken the code... yet. Or do I need to get the First Mate, Bosun or Weapons Master down here? No? Good."
The steady glare of Senior Sailor Lionel and the potentially serious consequences of his threat seem enough to cow the beligerant half-orc, who turns back to lie face down on his hammock. Ignoring the brief commotion as best she can, Kay quickly gets changed and hurries up to the deck before climbing topside. True to the halfling's word, Kay sees Freya tying lines at the top of the foremast. The new lookout Ferris looks to be atop the mainmast, while ol' Jart seems to be helping out in mizzenmast in the absence of the still unwell Fillian.
Glancing around nervously, Kay spots the First Mate steering the helm atop the aftcastle. Fortunately for the tardy young sailor, the senior officer does not seem to have noticed her late arrival.
D&D is a game, but it's not just a game. It's the ultimate storyboard, a campfire to share with friends, an imaginary call to imaginary arms and a ship to sail to horizons yet undreamt of...
DM Trevails Upon the Trackless Sea