Turn 4 - Preparing for... Eh, what!?"These be some pretty nice pistols, ingorin' the fact that I got 'em offa dead sailor.."
Head to the ship, taking a long route.
Figurin' yer as ready as yer ever going ter be, ye head back ter the ship ter await settin' sail. Along the way, (5) ye find a bag o' shot fer yer pistols.
Buy the cane sword. Yarr, I be the most dapper Pirate this side the Spanish main with that! Also get some food fer my land lubbers I call allies.
(6) With yer dapper presence, ye swagger inter the nearest grocer's and demand as much food as half yer money will get. It was actually a bakery, so ye got 4 barrels o' pies.
Arrr, did I grab the loot from before? If not, go get those cheap supplies before someone else grabs them! Otherwise, try and find a dove t' be me avian assistant.
EDIT: Make aye I have a table suitable for lyin' me fellow pirates on while I be treatin' them. If I don't be havin' a table, find one before we ship off!
Havin' already got the charcoal an' bandages an' such fr'm earlier, ye check fer a table (4) and arr glad ter find one. With some extra coin saved by yer "money free shoppin", ye decide ter go lookin' fer a dove. (4) Some old bag said she already sold 'er last bird, but ye weren't even askin' her and found a dove fer sale anyways.
Claim the best musket fer meself, 'n get down to sharpenin' ol' Timmy.
(5) In 15 minutes 'er so, ye put an edge yer axe as fine as the day ye got 'im.
Get a blade of some kind,"aquire"the tar
Knife in hand, ye go huntin' fer some tar. (1) At the back o' some manor lookin' place, ye find a wide, cobbled yard full o' all manner of goods. By smell ye find tar, many barrels of it tied togetharr, and cut one loose. As ye begin to pull it away, a head pops out a window, and ye make eye contact. There only be one manor on this isle, and this may be a seedy port, but the Mayor sure takes exception to bein' robbed. (Roll to Dodge! =
6) With no time ta think, ye jump upon the barrel an' begin rollin' it out as if the fires of Hell were after ye! Actually, it be the Mayor's mercenary guards, but close enough.
A fine seafarin' bird like this one deserrrves a suitable name. But ain't an fightin' bird, he be a diplomat. An' any good diplomatic bird deserrrves a suave name. Ah name me new pet Charles, then head off t' find some suitable food supplies fer me bird and me crew.
"Wonder if ye can say anythin' more. What did that lady teach ye?"
"Charles! Yep! Charles! Lady Sunnuvabitch!"
Hmm. Seems ter say that word whenever that lady be mentioned. Obviously the old bag 'as a sense o' humor. Anyways, with Charles in tow, ye go out fer supplies once more, (4) Findin' a goodly sack of bird seed and (2) nothin' else.
Suddenly, the town alarm bell be a-ringin'!
Try to trade th' booze fer some useful seafarin' items.
In appraisin, (5) ye find yer grog be a fine vintige rum indeed, and arr ideed sad ter part with it, but it's worth 2 barrels o' meat biscuits an' 1 barrel o' salt. As ye make yer purchase an' the barrels get hauled back ter the ship, ye hear the town alarm ringin' and see yer crewmate come screamin' down the street atop a barrel! Well, looks like it be time ter scram!
Supervise the installation of the cannons, survey gunpowder and shot reserves.
Gunpowder an' shot stores be full nearly to burstin', lighten'd somewhat by recent trade.
(1) As ye and the gunnery-men work of gettin' the cannons fitted and placed, the town alarm sounds! Ye spring ter the deck just in time ta see Wolfchild come rollin' aboard atop a barrel at breakneck speed, loosin' her footing and flyin' face-first into the mast. She's followed by the First Mate at a dead run and the Diplomat, sprintin with a bag o' birdseed under her arm and a bird on her shoulder squakin' "SHIT! SHIT! SHIT!"
Well, evidently it be time to flee! The Cap'n, not knowing whether it be flood, fire, or the Navy, shouts that it be time to set sail, and quick! Ye jump ter work, weighin' anchor and raisin sails. As the ship slides out to sea, the Cap'n realizes the apparent lunatic he was just interviewin' is still aboard...
Aye, the dice say it be time to set sail! Hopefully yer well prepared.
Wolfchild not be pictur'd, as she be unconscious.
DISCLAIMARR: Ye be drawn only as was most convenient. I not be dictatin' yer appearance to ye. Also, yer equipment in this picture that ain't mentioned in the thread might not correspond to yer actual equipment.
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Topic: Ye Arr a Pirate (Read 37094 times)