Still 12th, Limestone:
Sigurd stomped down the stairs, his braided beard swinging madly as he moved below decks.
"SIGURD not chop FISH!" he growled under his breath. "Sigurd axe slay Hydra, not herring!"
Q-Tip, also on her way down, still clutching her bruised bosom, whispered "Aharrr, ye best keep yer trap shut er ye'el git us all strung up, ya mangy oaf..."
The massive leather-clad dwarf turned slowly towards her, Viking rage in his eyes as he squared off, broad axe slung menacingly over his shoulder. "Sigurd not talk good, but Sigurd not stupid. YOU chop fish heads!" He said, bringing his axe off his shoulder just enough to make the already frightened Q-Tip wince away, her cropped hair brushing against the bulkheads.
"Ach, fine, fine, whatev'r ye say," Q-Tip responded, resigned. Today was not her day. "But when Cap'n see's ye screw'n off 'n da galley, it's yer balls on da fish'n hook, not mine!" Sigurd shrugged off her comments and looked around the belly of the ship, brows furled, confused by the complete lack of oars. His eyes settled on a fine workshop with a sharpening stone, mere feet away from where Q-Tip would be chopping fish.
He settled his mass on the workbench and began sharpening his axe, glaring across at Q-Tip as she slowly began the work of gutting and cleaning the massive piles of fish at her feet.
Skipper ducked under the hatch and came below decks to take stock of the crews morale. He was shocked to watch as Sigurd, the mighty viking, stopped sharpening his axe and curled up on the work bench, resting his head on the grindstone and falling into a deep slumber.
"Psst!", Q-Tip hissed, still chopping fish, "Look at that oaf, Cap'n's gwinter make fishbait out o' 'im, aye she is." Skipper didn't doubt it. Q-Tip recanted her tale of how she'd been hoisted into filling Sigurd's duties.
The First Mate crawled back up the hatch and met Kalen in her office, blandly reporting the way in which her orders had been disobeyed.
"Sleeping on the grindstone, eh?" Kalen asked, not looking up from her log book.
"Aye. What'll ye have us do, Cap'n?"
"You said Q-Tip is cutting fish heads?"
"Aye. Sigurd threatened her."
"Do nothing." Kalen responded, equally bland.
"Aye, Cap'n?"
"Aye. I ordered fish heads to be chopped. I don't care who does it as long as it's done. As for sleeping on the grind stone, I've half a mind to throw ALL the beds overboard so the rest o' the crew can learn to be real men like Sigurd. You see Q-Tip again, you tell her to keep chopping."
"Aye, captain."
Kalen turned to her First Mate, "The caravan comes today, yeah?" She pointed at their supply log book, "We'll need more booze if we're to keep at sea for a long while. Make sure to fit as much booze and distillery equipment as you can on board, we can fish for food, but we can't fish for beer."
Skipper turned to leave when he heard a sound he'd hoped he would not hear for quite some time.
Alarm bells.
"SUPPLY CARAVAN!" Imp shouted down from the crows nest.
Kalen hopped up and ran on to the main deck, furious. "YOU BLOODY TWIT, DO NOT RING THAT BELL UNLESS YOU SEE A SHARK OR YOU'VE A CANNON HOLE THROUGH YOUR EMPTY SKULL!"
Imp looked over the railing down at her, geniune concern on his face, "CAP'N! IT'S AN AMBUSH!"
Kalen knew. The goblins had found out where they'd docked, they knew she was preparing to shove off and wanted to make sure she wouldn't be able to harass their budding settlements. 'Sneaky fuckers ...' she mused as she grabbed her sword and prepared to order her men ashore.
"HOW MANY!" She yelled up to the crows nest.
"HUNDREDS CAP, THOUSANDS" Imp shouted back, his voice breaking in abject terror.
Kalen scurried up the mast and grabbed the spyglass from Imp's hand, making sure to clobber him in the head with it before putting it to her eye and muttering, "Learn to count ye stupid mongrel."
Kalen dropped the spyglass to her hip. It was too late. She could only watch as the precious supplies they desperately needed were splattered with the blood of her trading acquaintances.
"Sever the gang plank!" she shouted below. Jaina ran over to the flimsy boards and untied them, hacking furiously with her axe.
"SHOVE US OFF!" Came the order booming from above, as if Armok himself had command of the ship. Skipper ran to the wheel, cranked the rudder about as Horatio and Fishgut Led severed tie lines and unfurled the sails. Fishgut Led scampered up the mast and swung about the main-stays, unhooking the jib line and riding the swinging beam as it caught the wind.
The captain stared down as she watched her sails unfurling to grab the full might of the wind, her body trembling at the thought of the massive amounts of power quaking below her feet, guidelines twanging as they wrapped taught around the ship, the main mast lurching forward. Imp was not what to make of the look of calm ecstasy on his Captains face before glancing back to the slaughter below them, horrified by the brutality of the goblin assassins.
And then, they were off.
27th Limestone, 1057, at sea.
Beardless Bob rubbed his scarred hairless chin as he surveyed the ships supplies.
"That'll do," he said, grabbing armfuls of gypsum and and a couple of oak logs before heading back to the deck. Kalen had ordered him to construct a siege workshop in order to defend against future incursions, and he'd had relatively no trouble drawing up the plans and gathering the materials. The supply caravan that had been ambushed held mostly food and brewing supplies, so after the initial effort of becoming seaborne he found he was quite prepared to create his favorite things, massive weaponry.
Beardless Bob quickly constructed the deck, stopping only to rub his lucky bag of gunpowder between his duties.
Jaina, Boucher, and Duncana worked to modify the ships railing to accommodate the new weaponry as Kalen walked past, barely allowing herself to glance at their deconstruction, wincing each time a plank was peeled off. Jaina had crafted many boats in her lifetime, but this one was certainly something special, a masterfully crafted vessel, and soon to be Warship, and she easily empathized with her captains nervous onlooking. Kalen said nothing to the trio as she headed below decks.
Q-Tip, having recovered from her bout of bad luck on the first day, had been getting along quite well with everyone on the ship with the exception of Kalen. The young wench had been working hard, every day, doing whatever duties were required below decks, but she was beginning to get the feeling Kalen never did anything but fuss over everybody else's shoulders and lead them around blindly.
'Surely she's going to the galley to drink some more grog or maybe throw some kind of party with her beloved Sigurd' Q-Tip mused, moving quickly to match Kalen's pace. Kalen disappeared below the hatch and Q-Tip paused a moment so as not to jeopardize her attempt to spy on the captain.
After pretending to fuss over a pile of ropes, she slowly descended the hatch and headed towards the galley.
"Hey." Came a female voice from behind her. Q-Tip turned, her face obviously betraying her shock to see that Kalen was not swilling grog or partying or lording over anyone. She was cutting fish heads.
"Take this to the galley, eh?" Kalen said, matter-of-factly tossing a cleaned bat ray to the bug eyed Q-Tip.
As she slowly climbed down the stairs, Q-Tip began to breathe a huge sigh of relief.
She was at sea. The captain was a GOOD captain, a member of a team. Even Sigurd had stopped threatening her, probably because he'd been to busy enjoying sparring sessions on the deck with Fishgut Led and Horatio.
She adjusted the coils of rope reed rope wrapped tightly around her chest, concealing her cramped bosom. She grabbed a table at in the galley and joined her companions for a round of grog and an opportunity to share more Pirate tales.
The pirate crew drank into the night, hoisting their glasses in tribute to the wind, the waves, the captain and the beer they were about to drink. "Yarrrrrrrrrrr, we matey's!" was the sound that echoed up to the captains chambers as Kalen worked furiously at a map, glad that, for now, her crew was content, and her beautiful ship was safe.
She had no idea how many sets of eyes were watching her beloved ship as Imp snoozed away in the crow's nest that night. Nor would she, for some time. Her sails were filled with more than wind, alas, they were filled with false security.
[ March 06, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
[ March 06, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
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Topic: Pirates of the Fondled Waters (Community Pirate Ship) (Read 72363 times)