Still the 1th, Felsite, Late Spring, 1059:
Skipper watches as Sigurd hauls up the massive anchor, coiling chords of iron chain around his biceps. Sigurd grunts, pulling, coiling, pulling, coiling pulling, coiling. He reaches for another length of chain when he suddenly feels a massive blow hit him in the forehead. He looks up, confused, as the chain uncoils the anchor begins to sink back into the ocean.
A streaming rope is flying at his face, with a shining 4 pronged hook on the end of it. It flies over his shoulder and coils around the ships wheel, jerking it to the right, jamming the rudder. Skipper, shocked, falls back and yells, unsure of what is happening.
"IMP, what's going on?" Skipper yells up to the crows nest, looking up to see Imp's feet crossed on the edge of the fortified railing. Imp jolts awake at the yell, dropping his spyglass over the rail which happens to fall directly onto Sigurd's already bruised head. "Hey?" Sigurd looks up at the clouds, confused, rubbing his bruised head, wondering why the gods keep throwing things at him.
"CAPTAIN!" Imp shouts, watching below as streams of rope come aboard the ship like tendrils of a kraken. "GRAPPLING HOOKS!"
Kalen bursts out of her quarters, pulling up her boots, eyepatch askew and hat missing, hopping on one foot. "What's all this racket?" she yells, clambering across the deck. Fishgut hops to the door and closes it quickly, but not before Skipper catches sight of him, in the buff. Skipper thinks back to Kalens early warning to him about keeping his "cannonballs" wrapped up and his heart sinks, covering his face with melancholy until, out of the blue, a grappling hook hits him in the face and knocks the melancholy right out of him.
Kalen runs to the rails and starts unhooking the grapples, but there are too many. They aren't boarding them, they're just holding them. She looks up to see who has dared attack her ship, and sees something horrible.
"Oh my blood god ..." she whispers, "fucking NATIVES!"
Beardless Bob and Boucher are in their bunks, celebrating the victory of the urine still. Horatio and The Professor are well watered and fed, but still bedridden. Skipper is out cold, and Sigurd is confused, but that's quite normal.
Q-Tip, Jaina, and Duncana come to the deck to see what's happening, horrified by all the yelling.
"Grab the grapples and toss them overboard! Jaina, pull Skipper off the wheel and set the rudder, we've got to get out of here!"
Q-Tip and Duncana run to the rail to help Kalen throw off the grapples, Q-Tip asking, "What the hell do they want, cap?"
"They want to get on the ship!" Kalen says, running from hook to hook. Q-Tip, running along, "They can't, we put the plank do--"
Another plank falls on the railing right where Q-Tip is standing, knocking her backwards onto the deck. "Oh," Q-Tip mutters, as she stares up at the oddly engraved wooden plank.
A tan slim dwarf in a loincloth jumps over the plank, landing directly on Q-Tip's face. "AIAIAIAIAIA!!!" comes the battlecry as the natives attempt to stream on board.
"MRRFF", Q-Tip yells, a mass of native villager covering her mouth. She feels herself suffocating under the weight when she hears Sigurd give a mighty roar and plow into the native, shoving him off of Q-Tip. Another native jumps on Sigurds back, the viking grabbing the first, the three spinning around screaming until Sigurd tumbles down the stairs into the galley, natives still pinned to him.
Duncana and Kalen grab the plank quickly and toss it back, sending natives streaming off to the sides and into the waters.
"Get us the HELL out of here!" Kalen yells, rushing over to one of the ballistas and pulling off the cover. The chanting natives gather on the dock, preparing to lower another plank. Kalen wastes no time attempting to disperse them as the crew unties the rest of the lines.
Before firing, Kalen hesitates. Not for concern about the villagers the mighty ballista is pointed at, but because she remembers that Beardless Bob crafted these ballistas, and she remembers vividly the explosion of the urine still just moments earlier.
"Bah," she grunts, cranking the line taught, before releasing a tree-trunk sized bolt into the chanting crowd.
Ssssssssszzzzzz the bolt tears out of the ship, streaming towards the natives.
"AIAIAIAIAIAIA --erp" *SPLAT* comes the sound of a native being plugged in the chest by the mighty bolt, disintegrating him.
Jaina winces at the carnage as Kalen cackles with glee, yelling "BRING ME ANOTHER!"
Bob rushes up the deck, half dressed, "WHAT THE HELL ARE THOSE?" He yells, confused, pointing down the stairs at the two oddly clothed natives pulling on Sigurd's beard as the musclebound viking rolls around trying to shake them off.
Seeing Kalen beckoning for ammunition, Bob hoists over another bolt, laying it on the ballista. He looks out into the churning, yelling mass of natives. "You're not going to ..." he starts to ask, before Kalen cuts him off.
"Yes I am!" She responds, loosing another bolt, her eye twinkling.
Bob covers his eyes and looks away, and Kalen lets out a yell, this time, not in joy, but in shock. "NO!" She yells, her eye no longer on the natives, not caring where the bolt landed or if it hit it's mark.
As the dread ship Bellsmaw pulls away from port leaving death and destruction in her wake, Kalen crawls along the deck to see the twisted and mutilated corpse of her pet cat.
"Oohhhhhhh no!" she wails, scooping the furry pulp up and holding it tight. Her heart pumps and she feels the familiar sense of loss, familiar with everything she grows to love being taken from her. She unconsciously looks up to see Fishgut unfurling sails above her before glancing away and shaking her head. She places the cat's corpse on the deck, promising to give it a proper send off at sea, later. For now, she's still in high spirits due to her resent conquests, at sea, on land, and in her chambers ... but there is much work to be done.
Bob, sensing that he might be blamed for this, quickly scampers off down the deck to try and help Sigurd get the natives subdued.
Sigurd has finally got to his feet and he looks up to see Bob coming down the stairs. He's holding each of the blabbering natives by the scruff of their necks. "Hi Bob", Sigurd says, cheerfully, as he casually smashes the two dwarves heads together, knocking them out. Sigurd drops them to the deck before straightening his braided beard, saying "Sigurd head hurt," and sullenly walking towards the galley to get some grog.
Bob takes a look at their new captives. They certainly can't ransom them, but, no point in killing them yet. He binds their hands and feet and drags them up onto the deck of the ship.
Kalen takes stock of the situation once she is certain that they are safely out of port and at sea. She calls the entire crew to the deck, asking Duncana and Boucher to bring The Professor and Horatio up for a moment, promising to let them return below decks after they've had a discussion.
The two natives are tied to the main masts, their mouths gagged. They struggle against the ropes, mumbling in some muffled undecipherable language.
Kalen walks up and down the deck before addressing the crew.
"Crew. We have a decision to make."
"Imp said he's watched one of these two fire a crossbow from ashore, so they may have some valuable weapon skills. We only have two options in this situation though."
Kalen points at the lever leading to the plank of pirate justice. "Either they go for a walk," she says, before looking back to the crew, "or we've got two galley slaves."
"Now I may be the captain of this ship, but I know we're fast becoming a team, and as such, I've decided to allow you all to vote. You may abstain from voting if you choose, but in the end, we will tally the votes and decide what to do with the natives. One way or another, it's up to you."
The Professor, ever the conversationalist, interjects, "Can they even be trained to work with us? We don't speak their language ..." Jaina steps forward, "Actually ... I can understand some of it. It's just dwarvish with a hint of kobold, and my family made me learn kobold when I was in carpentry school so that I could make signs to ward them off. I can translate, but, I may get it wrong some times."
"There you go," Kalen said, shrugging, "It's up to you. I'll be in my quarters, let me know when you've decided."
[ March 09, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
Author
Topic: Pirates of the Fondled Waters (Community Pirate Ship) (Read 72370 times)