**NOTE:
I have changed the name of the thread to reflect the oceans on which we now sail in the budding community fortress.
(http://img148.imageshack.us/img148/1774/surroundingsbt7.jpg)
The Dread Ship Bellsmaw sailing in the Realm of Winds on the waves of The Fondled Waters!
((Edited Community Fortress, The story of Bellsmaw begins on Page 2!))
Well, one of the things I've always wanted to be able to do in Dwarf Fortress was to have a ship. *edit, I just looked through the bloats, reqs, and cores, and I can't find anything about boats, so I guess I was misinformed and sir toady will NOT be doing boats. It's up to US!
About 2 weeks ago I decided, to hell with it, I'm going to make my own damn ship.
Here are some screenshots rendered in the 3D Dwarf Visualizer (Thank you for this visualizer SINOTH, you are welcome aboard my ship ANY day):
***Note: YES the ship is made ENTIRELY out of wood. The textures are stone because I do not know how to make the viewer read them as wood, but the other screenshots linked below show the deckstructure in game and you can see that the entire ship, every plank, every wall, is made out of wood)
(http://img509.imageshack.us/img509/4532/fullboat1xa7.jpg)
(http://img134.imageshack.us/img134/3889/fullboat2si1.jpg)
(http://img509.imageshack.us/img509/3104/fullboat3rp3.jpg)
More images (LARGE images, sorry) from in-game with labeled layers of the ship:
From BOTTOM LEVEL to TOP DECK ( and a few levels up for a shot of the crows nest):
Captains Chambers (above main deck)
It's technically not floating in the water, of course. It is held up by one single pillar on the bottom level.
I constructed the ship in a dry-dock that took quite a while to dig out (partially because I hit an aquifer half-way down and had to try for about an entire day to plug it up so I could finish the dock).
The ship is 5 levels of main area, with a walkable crows nest on top of a mast about 10z's up from the surface I believe.
The ship and the dwarves aboard are fully self sufficient and have no need to ever go ashore. During construction I purified water and pumped it into a storage tank with a connecting well.
On board I have a large number of rapidly reproducing livestock (mules, cows, horses, dogs, etc) for slaughter in the event of a food shortage.
A crows nest sits atop the main mast. The crossbeam on the main mast houses 4 chains for jailing tantrumy pirates where they will not be able to harm anyone but themselves.
For the truly mutinous dogs, there is a retractable lever-operated plank with which I can perform pirate justice.
Fishing provides the main source of food, and the ship has the workshop capability to process any number of fish and animals and brew from the massive amounts of plump helmets I stowed below decks. When they run out, the fresh water tank will be the main supply of hydration.
Workshops on the ship:
Fishery, Butcher Shop, Craftdwarfs Shop, Masons shop, Carpenters shop, Tannery, Leather shop, Kitchen, and Still.
The ship has enough beds to fit 12 dwarves at the moment. However, on board, in the case of grown children or stow-aways, we have a small extra supply of wood and stone should we need to build extra furniture or bedrooms.
The dining hall can sit 16 at the moment, but it is expandable.
Provisions on board include a large stockpile of steel and iron weapons and armor (the craftdwarves make bone bolts from butchered animals for my crossbow swashbuckler to practice with and to shoot at passing sharks), extra furniture, mechanisms, and a massive amount of food and beer to last for many many years, provided the population stays relatively low. Also on board, on the top deck, is a row of caged slave animals which I can either train or slaugher.
Yes, I have caged macaques. Yes, I plan to have monkey knife-fights on the deck.
The trade depot on the top deck has never been used, but I suppose if the situation turned incredibly dire the dwarves could cannibalize some of the deck planks to turn into a bridge allowing merchants to come aboard ... so we could SEIZE everything they brought. (C'mon, we're pirates!)
History of the Ship:
The name of the ship (randomly genned) is Bellsmaw.
The year is currently 1057. It took me QUITE a while to gather all of the wood, create the supplies, stock, fit, and waterproof the ship, as well as flooding the drydock and surrounding it with water.
We've seen our fair share of goblin ambushes and kobold thieves attempting to sneak onboard during construction, but I *THINK* we caught them all.
A few times the ship was in jeopardy, including an attack of 5 zombie tuna, and an absolutely deadly short fin maco shark which slaughtered half of the original crew.
Right now is the moment when I've finally cut free from land. We are at sea. The waves break over the deck and the dwarves bask in the mist while swilling grog.
Our journey is just beginning!
The purpose of this post is to gather feedback from the community:
What can I do to improve the ship?
Would anyone be interested in doing a community or succession fortress based upon this map?
What kind of ships have you made and how have your sailors fared in the past?
Thank you in advance and I look forward to your feedback, YE SCURVY DOGS!! =)
SIGN UPS CLOSED! Who are the ones foolish enough to board the Dread Pirate ship Bellsmaw? I give you;
Fenrir: Male, 'Sigurd', Viking
ColonelTEE3: Male, 'Skipper', Fisherdwarf, First Mate
Retro42: Male, 'The Professor', Mad Scientist
Impending Doom: Male, 'Imp', Buccaneer (marksdwarf)
Tigerbunny: Male, 'Horatio, Petty Officer
martinuzz: Male, 'Beardless Bob', Powder Monkey (RIP BEARDLESS BOB)
martinuzz: Female, 'Beardless Binty', Child
Kagus: Male, 'Fishgut'+name, Swashbuckler
JoRo: Female, 'Boucher', Grog Mistress
Dasqoot: Female, 'Q-Tip', Wench
Xotes: Female, 'Kalen', Swashbuckler, Captain
sidew: Female, 'Jaina', Shipwright
DuncanFrost: Female, 'Duncana', Quartermistress
Our 2 newest crewmen:
Wiles: Male, 'Tiny', Brawler
Splime: Male, 'Knifer', Swashbuckler
FUTURE PIRATES:
AlienChickenPie: 'Barnacle', Hammerdwarf
othorocksmoms: 'Malanga', Grog Apprentice
Kaelem Gaen: 'Kai/Ula', Galley/Mace
[ March 14, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
I loaded everybody on board and removed the gangplank. The ship sunk instantly. All hands drown.
quote:
Originally posted by jaybud4:
<STRONG>That is awesome. Although in the true sense it's not "Functional", but pretty damn close.</STRONG>
Yeah, I can't sail it around ... yet =D
It's as close to functional and realistic as I could get it, mainly in that it is surrounded on every tile by water and that my little bearded pirates don't ever need to go on shore with the landlubbers.
Speaking of landlubbers, getting ONLY 12 dwarves aboard proved impossible as stow-aways from my slave labor crews kept sneaking on board.
Let's just say that the plank has walked MANY dwarves already =)
Thank you for the comments guys, I really appreciate it.
I'm curious to find out if anybody would be interested in doing a community fortress with this. Obviously it isn't BRAND spanking new, but I think the grounds for an interesting story have been laid.
The crew was selected carefully; there are twelve dwarves, exactly 6 women and 6 men, and at this point none of them have formed relationships, so, even though it is 1057, it's still something of a blank slate.
I can't start the community thread now because I've been celebrating the completion by swilling some grog IRL, but perhaps tomorrow, if anybody is interested, I could start sign ups to take members of the crew. It would be fairly small to start, until some children arrive or I allow some landlubbers on board.
What do you say?
EDIT: Wow, same idea, same moment. You owe me a Dr Pepper.
[ March 05, 2008: Message edited by: Greiger ]
Here's what I'd originally planned, and may actually still do:
I wanted to build this ship, and line one side with ballista and catapults.
Then, i wanted to build another ship, a smaller ship, with fortifications, within cross-bow distance of my main ship. The other ship would have a gangplank going ashore so that goblin sieges could board the smaller ship and engage in ship-to-ship crossbow fighting, and, if I added some siege weapons aboard the main ship, could make for some really fun fights =)
Very good suggestions though, I'm going to chew on them and see if I can find a way to get some ballistas up. There is definately enough room on the deck.
Perhaps the next wave of immigrants can construct the goblin ship? Hmm ...
I love the idea btw. Definitely epic.
Retro
I've been thinking about building a ship for some time, but I don't think I'd have the patience for actually building it. Pity I couldn't work out my pirate mod before you built this thing, it would've been very fitting.
Name: Take the first name of a dwarf and add 'Fishgut' in front of it.
Profession: Fisherdwarf/Military dwarf.
Ok, roll call so far:
Fenrir: Male, 'Sigurd', Viking
ColonelTEE3: Male, 'Skipper', Fisherdwarf
Dasqoot: Female, 'Q-Tip', Wench
Retro42: Male, 'The Professor', Mad Scientist
Kagus: Female(y/n?), Name+'fishgut', Swashbuckler (that cool?)
Impending Doom: Male, 'Imp', Buccaneer (marksdwarf)
So, unless Kagus objects to being a female, we have the following available:
2 Males, 4 females.
We need a captain!
[ March 05, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
Guess I better just get used to it... Yeah, I'm okay with female, and swashbuckler is great for me. Also, it's the other way around as far as the names go. It would be Fishgut+(dwarfname), not (dwarfname)+fishgut. It's a nickname, ya know? Like Bootstrap Bill.
quote:
It's technically not floating in the water, of course. It is held up by one single pillar on the bottom level.
I think you know what has to be done here.
Kagus: Sorry, you didn't specify and I knew we were going to run out of males first so I thought I would ask, I appreciate it =) Also, sorry about the name thing, I've fixed it. Did I mention I've been swilling grog? =)
Skooma:
Quite a while actually, I started it on the 26th of last month, and 6 years have passed in game.
The longest part of the construction was the top deck, because the surface area is just huge, and I kept running out of wood and needing to wait for trees to grow. It would've gone a lot smoother if I didn't have to sever a large aquifer off during construction. I have a few renders of it in 3d dwarf saved during construction before the dry dock was filled if anyone is interested in seeing them.
Also, that pillar ... it's surrounded by water at the bottom of the dry dock ... as much as I would love to back the save up and do that, I don't even think I can ... It would be an epic collapse though, to be sure.
I did, during construction, nearly have that happen though, the boat was held up by a temporary bridge, and the guy constructing the crows nest fell, and the wall he was deconstructing shattered and him and the wood logs punctured the deck, fell a total of about 12 Z levels down through 4 decks and into the dry dock, leaving only ONE single tile barely connecting the whole ship. =o It was interesting to find out that falling blocks will destroy workshops too, and KEEP falling!
JoRo: Ok man, if I make you a female, it will even things out a bit, so if you don't mind I'll sign you up as that. I'll make sure it's a manly female =)
[ March 06, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
Name him Horatio and make him a Petty Officer
(or smth synonymously, got it from dictionary)
so its a military dwarf fighting with 2 sabres, or swords as an excuse.
quote:
Originally posted by Kagus:
<STRONG>So far, every community fort (with the exception of the one that died due to a boredom-inspired Dwarf Companion-assisted berserking mayor) I've joined up in, I've ended up being female. I have yet to learn the gender of my recently claimed spiderling in another fort. I'm betting on female.
Guess I better just get used to it... Yeah, I'm okay with female, and swashbuckler is great for me. Also, it's the other way around as far as the names go. It would be Fishgut+(dwarfname), not (dwarfname)+fishgut. It's a nickname, ya know? Like Bootstrap Bill.</STRONG>
DC now allows for gender bending.
Updated the sign ups, only TWO spots left, one male, one female.
quote:
Originally posted by Captain Mayday:
<STRONG>DC now allows for gender bending.</STRONG>
DC now apparently does not work with the current version of DF.
Dwarf: Beardless Bob
gender: male
profession: siege operator, bone carver
Some early gunpowder experimenting scorched his face and earned him his nickname. For now he'll just stick to ballistas and catapults.
Name: Duncan... a? Yes, Duncana (I have the female, yes?)
Profession: Pirate Accountant
Give him appraiser or whatever is needed. Yes, I know he'll be almost entirely useless if you're not trading with dem landlubbers, but that just adds to the fun! ;) Maybe give him Consoler, to cheer up the cabin fever'd pirates.
Bad news, I suck at math, good news, YOU'RE A DUDE!
quote:
Originally posted by Tigerbunny:
<STRONG>sure that you dont suck on biology too? *hides*</STRONG>
Watch it, or ye'll be sleepin with da fishies, and in this haunted ocean, they're ZOMBIE fishies, so I don't expect ye will be gettin' much sleep, har har
First off: Roll Call:
The salty dogs are assembled.
[ March 06, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
quote:Yes, mayors are elected. Pirates crews would elect captains, so that works well.
Originally posted by DuncanFrost:
<STRONG>(can people become nobles? <_< )</STRONG>
[ March 06, 2008: Message edited by: Fenrir ]
Retro
(http://img247.imageshack.us/img247/1463/rollcallbi5.jpg)
Kalen paces the planks in front of her assembled crew. Her trained eyes pore over every scar, piercing, and leathery neck of the salty dogs assembled before her.
She attempts to stifle her disappointment as she catalogs the writhing mass of dwarven waste slopped onto her beautiful deck.
'The beardless one ...' she notes, 'can't keep his eyes on me. He's a shifty little prick. I'll need to watch him or my crew count may come up short.'
'Fishgut Led looks like a hot headed young buck. I'd better ask Boucher to water down his grog or he may end up in a fishes gut after all.'
She stops her pacing, eyes locking on 'Q-Tip', a salty wench. Q-Tip stiffens up as her new captain approaches. Kalen steps so close Q-Tip is forced to rock back on her heels, keenly aware of the tumultuous deeps stirring inches behind her.
The captain's hands come up in a flash of movement and the crew all await the familiar splash of a sinking dwarf, but are shocked to see Kalen's hands go not for the neck, or to push her overboard, but grab firmly onto Q-Tips heaving breasts.
Kalen digs her fingers in, squeezing hard as Q-Tip gasps, trying not to yelp.
"STRAP THESE DOWN, WENCH. Last bitch to show cleavage on my deck got a fish hook through both tits. These boys will be having enough trouble dodging my boot, they don't need to be distracted by these," ... she clenched her fingers again, Q-Tips knees knocking as she tries not to pass out, "flabby pathetic little buds." Kalen releases her, noting that she never cried out.
Q-Tip gasps for air and grabbed on to the ships rail, clutching her chest.
"WHO else thinks this is a pleasure cruise?" Kalen calls out, her voice booming out like it was born of the cruel ocean waves.
"We are not here to make friends, we are not here to fuck, and we are not here for fame and glory," Kalen shouted, her spine plank-stiff as she addresses her men.
'Now is the time,' she thinks, pacing again, 'to get these maggots into line. If I don't exert complete control, we may have another ..." She unconsciously runs her fingers up her left arm. '1, 2, 3, 4 ...' counting the crescent of scars, shark tooth holes that burn whenever a gust passes the salty air across her crackled skin.
She doesn't mind the burning. Each one of those scars burns for a dwarf who ended up in the belly of that shark.
Kalen stops, turns to her crew.
"Boucher, get in the kitchen. Imp, get your fat ass up that mast and into the crows nest, if you see a shark," she grates through her pearly teeth, "it better be dead by the time you tell me about it."
"SIGURD!"
The young dwarf stiffened up, his eyes resting on her beard, afraid to see his own doom reflected in her leathery face, "Grab that axe and head below decks, we've got some fish heads that need to be chopped off. Oh and while you're at it", Kalen said, amused, "squirt some of that fish blood on all that leather you're packin', or these waves will make you the first Naked Viking ever to crew a pirate ship".
"Jaina, Q-Tip, you'll be assisting Duncana in taking stock of our provisions. If I find one fucking drop of my booze has gone missing, I'll rip all your tits off and throw them to the whales."
"Fishgut, Horatio, head to the armory and find something sharp to play with."
The crew chuckled as they grabbed their rucksacks and headed below deck, most of them going the wrong direction, weaving through the beams and piles of coiled rope. 'I'm gonna be picking splinters out of these fresh fishes asses for this entire journey, aren't I', Kalen thought.
The three remaining dwarves standing before her, the beardless, her assistant, and the pale skinny fellow called the Professor looked concerned about not having been assigned a job yet.
"You there, pasty faced landlubber" The professor knew she was talking about him. "You're not to go anywhere near anything dangerous until you've got your sea legs. You're to be my cartographer. There's a sextant in the galley and a map in the officers deck. Do you know what happens to navigators when a pirate ship goes off course?" The professor knew. He shouldered his pack and moved carefully to the hatch, giving his entire mind to the task of not ... falling ... down.
"Beardless Bob, eh", she muttered, sauntering up to him. "I've seen infants with bigger beards than you. You look like a mutant human, and I don't like humans on my deck."
"Gunpowder accident, sir" he said, his raspy voice rattling like a ships sail.
"Great, an inept baby faced pyromaniac as my only cannon officer. This will be a treat. I need you to work with Duncana to find out if we have enough supplies aboard to fashion some ballistas and cannons before we get into dangerous waters. If you can't find something below decks, we'll tie a rope to you and let you check at the bottom of the ocean."
Bob snarled as he moved past her, coming just inches from her face. Kalen did not move, nor meet his shifty eyes.
"SKIPPER, eh?" She said to the last remaining ugly pile of dwarf on her pristine deck. "You'll be my assistant it seems."
'Oh dear god ...', Skipper thought, his balls shriveling under the icy gaze of his new master. 'I joined the crew to get away from my wife, this frigid bitch looks like she'd cook my wife up and throw her to the dogs ...'
Kalen wrapped her arm around Skippers shoulders, half-snarling, half-smiling, "You're bunks upstairs, next to mine." She locked eyes with him and grabbed his crotch with her left hand. Skipper winces, wondering if his reproducing days are over. "I better not EVER see these little cannon balls in my quarters. You will sleep, eat, piss, and die with your pants on, you got it?"
"Yes sir", he whimpered, an octave higher than he would've liked.
Kalen shoved him towards the stairs before wiping her hand in disgust amongst the sea-foam that was now alone with her on the deck.
With her crew out of sight, she glanced up at the sails, licking the wind like a cat at the milk. She grabbed the railing and ran her calloused scarred hands across the wood, splinters breaking off and falling to the ocean after failing to penetrate her stone-like skin. She felt her ship creak and groan below her, telling her all about these new rodents infesting it's innards.
'It's okay baby,' she thought, caressing the rail, her scars burning in the salty air, 'I'll kill every last one of them before they take you away from me."
[ March 06, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
Retro
All in all, I like how she cowed the entire crew into submission.
quote:
Originally posted by Xotes:
<STRONG>I REALLY didn't expect to have Kalen end up as captain. You've given me a mighty surprise there, mate!All in all, I like how she cowed the entire crew into submission.</STRONG>
Somebody had to do it, and looking at her profile and skills, she's got the biggest balls aboard =) I'll have another update coming shortly, today.
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.
(http://img527.imageshack.us/img527/2082/sigurdsleepboltsda1.jpg)
"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."
(http://img522.imageshack.us/img522/5913/inventorykj4.jpg)
Skipper turned to leave when he heard a sound he'd hoped he would not hear for quite some time.
Alarm bells.
(http://img523.imageshack.us/img523/6845/impwatchingvj2.jpg)
"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."
(http://img521.imageshack.us/img521/7031/ambush2am5.jpg)
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.
(http://img297.imageshack.us/img297/2584/ambushaftermathno9.jpg)
"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.
(http://img223.imageshack.us/img223/8721/siegeshopwq6.jpg)
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.
(http://img220.imageshack.us/img220/7734/shipmodificationpa7.jpg)
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.
(http://img81.imageshack.us/img81/5652/qtipsuprisedlw3.jpg)
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 ]
quote:Who are you calling a man?!
Originally posted by valcon
<STRONG>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.</STRONG>
Awesome story!
[ March 06, 2008: Message edited by: Fenrir ]
Remind me the Aubrey/Maturin saga...
About my preferences, I like the mules because these are stubborn... LOL
And a female with a surname like "Manlantern" is very odd... ^_^
[ March 06, 2008: Message edited by: sidew ]
When's the next update?! We must have more!
Also, as for the pictures, I'm not sure how commonly pictures are used in community forts, but they mean a great deal to me. Like the thing with Sigurd, being able to actually see that he really did conk out and pass out in the workshop is important to me for some reason, so, unless anybody objects, I'll try to keep coming with the screenshots and whatnot, though, based on how deformed page 2 became, I think I might shrink them down just a tad =).
If anybody would like to interject anything about their characters between the next entries, feel free, write up your own journal entry or what have you, i'll integrate it into the game and the story as best I can!
I'll put up another update tonight for sure. <3
However, I have to ask. Who's that miner in the water? A casualty of filling in the drydock, or someone who got to test the plank for splinters? And yes, pictures are very nice to have. I personally see nothing wrong with the current size, but that's just me.
I am named 'Fishgut' due to my crusade against all watery dwellers. I have made it my quest in life to empty the sea of every fish and oyster and lobster and shark, either with a net or a sword. I earned the name from a particularly nasty carp attack where I slashed every last fish to ribbons, and the water was a floating mass of fishguts.
Or maybe that's just a fish tale. Who can say?
Damn. Just realized I didn't ask for any swimming skill. Oh well, at least I can still fish from dry ground.
By my mothers beard! This ship is huge!
Crow's nest? You could fit two elephants up there!
Quite a contrast to the cramped contraptions the Demoltion Team made us work in.
The Demolition Team. Hrrrr.
Only one little extra explosion. And it didn't even kill anyone. Except for that cat.
I'll never get that stench out of my nose.
And then? 151 days in prison in that rotten fortress. How in Armoks name could I have known it was the Duke's favourite petty-pussy? Damn retard nobles.
Would have been 200 days had this offer not come by.
So here I am now. I try to keep below deck as much as possible for now. 151 days in prison makes one rather shy the sun. You know what I mean. Man have I been sick when I first stepped outside again.
That captain is a funny guy. He thinks somehow that the Demolition Team is involved with making catapults and ballistas. I could tell him that we are a bit more sophiticated than that. But I doubt he'll understand.
Maybe I get an opportunity one day to show him the meaning of Demolition.
---neuroticly caressing his lucky bag of gunpowder---
For now I'll just go with his orders.
Sorry to say this update is taking quite a while, I'm allowing the world to run for a bit so that the ship can start to develop some relationships and I'm also trying to fix a little problem. I've noticed that it is now 1058 and I've still never been sieged by goblins.
The only thing I can think of that would cause that would be my having never traded nor had a broker calculate my fortress wealth. So I'm going to see if I can resolve this problem (for great justice) before we continue, but if not, I may revert back to an older save.
Also, something spiffy while we wait, I recorded a short little movie of waves breaking over the ship, and the general hustle and bustle of life on deck out at sea.
http://mkv25.net/dfma/movie-399-lifeonthepirateshipbellsmaw
Unfortunately it's in the default DF tileset, so the ship looks a bit strange =) But, there we go for now. Fear not, more updates a'coming.
[ March 07, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
Also, why are you throwing fish overboard?
quote:
Originally posted by Kagus:
<STRONG>Hey, here's an idea. If you temporarily remove part of the bow (not for the story, of course. Just the intermediate period), the waves might come a bit closer instead of just smacking into the wall. If a dwarf spends enough time getting pushed about by waves (they don't seem to mind this, by the way), they'll start getting some swimming skill.Also, why are you throwing fish overboard?</STRONG>
I had to clear out some barrels for the booze! =)
Also, as for the waves, I would do that, but the water that washes up on the deck accumulates and causes problems as well as looking kinda lame.
However, if you REALLLLY want, I could be persuaded to add a swimming pool to one of the decks on the ship, pumping 3/7 water or so into a little chamber with a ladder down into it so the salty dogs could get their swimming up. Probably be better than sentencing them to chinese saltwater torture :P
[ March 07, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
Here is the next entry in the fateful (believe me, fateful!) journey of the brave crew of the pirate ship Bellsmaw:
1st Limestone, 1058, Mid-Autumn:
The waves break over the deck of the Bellsmaw, shattering on the mighty bow as if a thousand splinters of glass. Gulls circle in the morning sun, trailing in her foamy wake, eyes keen for the splash of fish guts strewn overboard.
Jaina walks the deck, searching for leaks in the bulkheads. She moves from siege weapon to siege weapon, carefully inspecting the craftsdwarfsship on the modified rails. 'A year without a cave', she thinks, smiling, 'a year living surrounded by the massive frame of molded tree trunks'. Her eyes, timber brown and speckled with sea green, never could find comfort in a cold smooth stony surface, unyielding and cruel, cold and dead. He hands can feel the warmth in the wood as it soaks up the suns rays, and --
"ASSEMBLE!"
Jaina turns, unconsciously leaving her hand on the warm oaken railing until it is out of reach while she steps across the deck to form up at the base of the stairs to the captains lodge.
The shipwright watches as the crew come to deck, tanned and muscled, glistening with sweat, their beard ends frayed by the salty winds. Even The Professor has an earthy brown tone to him, and he does not stumble nor reach for support while moving swiftly through the tumbling ropes on the gently rocking deck.
Skipper comes out first, logbook in hand, bespectacled and looking weary. The Captain has been in her bunk for 3 days now, planning and plotting. Their holds were still well stocked with booze and food, but the ample space reserved for plunder was a yawning empty chasm, a reminder each day that the crews cut of the pay so far was 1/12th of nothing.
Kalen emerges from her chambers, not looking weary in the slightest. Her hat is crisped and her cave swallow dress is glistening with fish oil like the day it was crafted.
"Crew, one long year has passed," She says, calmly, descending the steps slowly, Skipper following in tow. "You've proven yourself competent sailors. All of you. Even you," she says, grabbing The Professors shoulder and squeezing it tightly. "You've learned the stars and the sea, and you've managed not to be thrown overboard. Yet."
Jaina chuckles with the rest of the crew, thinking, 'she wants us to laugh, but I doubt I'm alone in having to force it a bit.'
Insincere thoughts still in her head, Kalen comes to stand in front of Jaina as if homing in on her silent protest.
"You've done a fine job working our lady Bellsmaw into a Warship, Jaina. Be proud, for your name and hers will soon be whispered quietly in every tavern in every town on this miserable rock."
"Bob, I don't care if you're beardless. Your siege weapons are a fine addition to the ship and will strike fear and ... hopefully ... giant wooden stakes into the hearts of our enemies." Another laugh erupts, this time genuine. Bob grins ear to ear, unconsciously leaning towards Boucher until their shoulders touch. She smiles at him, gently, proud of her lovers work and deserving praise.
(http://img368.imageshack.us/img368/1084/boucherlovesl7.jpg)
"The ship is ready, crew," Kalen announces, sweeping her hand wide as if in a final approval of every nail, screw, and bolt.
(http://img512.imageshack.us/img512/3939/batgp4.jpg)
"Crew", Kalen says, turning her back on them, "we have our first target,"
"But we have a problem." Kalen continues, pivoting on her heels, staring down her nose at the assembled mates.
"The ship is ready. You," she says, moving her eyes slowly from dwarf to dwarf, "are not."
Sigurd grunts in disapproval as the rest of the crew shift their weight nervously.
"You are sailors, that's for sure. But sailors only move ships. I need dwarves who can TAKE ships. Dwarves that can grapple, board, fight and survive not just on the high seas but low in the belly of the beast."
Q-Tip senses Sigurds rising viking rage at the implication that he cannot fight and gives him a knowing gaze, silently asking her lumbering friend to let it go. She could tell that the crafty Kalen was up to something.
"Who among you is the finest warrior?"
Sigurd steps forward before she has finished her sentence, unclasping his axe behind his neck. None of the others move to challenge him.
"Go ahead," Kalen says, lazily looking out onto the hazy horizon. "Pull out your axe." Sigurd obeys, gladly.
"Kill me, then," Kalen orders, softly, still gazing out into the waves.
The viking pauses only for a moment before reaching up and drawing his axe from his back, and charging at his captain.
Q-Tip watches in horror as he brings his axe about, clearly intending to sever his unarmed captains head clean off.
Q-Tip blinks, squeezing hard, expecting a gush of warm blood to paint her face.
THWAP, and a series of tinkling clanks ring out. Q-Tip opens her eyes to see Sigurd's axe skittering across the deck, shining and bloodless as the day it was forged. She looks over to see Kalen standing where she had been, unphased, as if she had not moved. Sigurd, however, is curled up around the jib line spindle, obviously confused, his nose streaming blood onto his braided tentacled beard.
"Men," Kalen says calmly, walking over to Sigurd and picking him up effortlessly, defying his bulky mass. "You need to learn to FIGHT!"
[ March 08, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
[ March 08, 2008: Message edited by: Xotes ]
quote:
Originally posted by valcon:
<STRONG>
THWAP, and a series of tinkling clanks ring out. Q-Tip opens her eyes to see Sigurd's axe skittering across the deck, shining and bloodless as the day it was forged. She looks over to see Kalen standing where she had been, unphased, as if she had not moved. Sigurd, however, is curled up around the jib line spindle, obviously confused, his nose streaming blood onto his braided tentacled beard."Men," Kalen says calmly, walking over to Sigurd and picking him up effortlessly, defying his bulky mass. "You need to learn to FIGHT!"
[ March 08, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]</STRONG>
That... is just made of awesome, right there.
(http://img352.imageshack.us/img352/2799/sparbunniesjg8.jpg)
Duncana climbs the last step above the captains bunk onto the flat space overlooking the ocean.
Why Kalen wants them to spar here, she cannot fathom. 'I've never even held a sword,' she thinks, 'how the hell am I going to manage to even survive sparring with a heavy steel blade in heavy steel armor with a massive shield on a churning ship without even so much as a rail to stop me from flying overboard?'
Pausing at the edge of the platform, she can see the same thoughts echoed back to her in her companions eyes. Madness.
A fierce shove comes from behind, pushing her out onto the platform and spoiling her tenuous balance. She loses grip of her sword and shield in favor of collapsing to the planks, hugging them tightly as she watches waves breaking below her nose.
"Alright, maggots," Kalen says, stepping none too gently directly across Duncanas prone steel clad carcass. "You're gonna need to be able to take more than a shove on the edge of a ship."
"You're going to need to fight without rails. You need scars," She says, flashing her tooth marked arm at the crew. "I'm going to make PIRATES out of you sailors."
"Q-TIP, you busty whore," Kalen booms out, grinning. "You've got a nice mace there. I want you to break open Sigurd's face for making you chop those fish heads."
"But Cap, it's o--"
"I said BREAK HIS FUCKING FACE, bitch!" Kalen interrupts, drawing her sword and marching steadily across the planks towards little Q-Tip.
Sigurd says nothing as he unclasps his axe. He looks at Q-Tip with resignation in his eyes. "I try not kill," he grunts.
Kalen lets out a throaty laugh, her eyes alight that the game is on.
"GO!"
The viking moves slowly towards Q-Tip as she ponders the next move. Sea salt licks at her heels as the massive wall of leather clad muscle and rage moves towards her. She moves up, anywhere but near the edge, directly into the vikings reach.
Q-Tip strikes out a quick slap, her spiked mace making a pathetic plopping sound against Sigurd's mammoth biceps. "HA!" Kalen bursts out.
Sigurd slowly brings the axe about, clearly giving Q-Tip enough warning to reposition herself, which she barely manages before his axe cleaves the air beside her. Sigurd glances to Kalen as he does so, knowing he will earn nothing but reproach, but never expected the depth of the glare nor the awfulness of her words.
"Look at this fancy, prancy, fucking, ELF swishing around my ship!" Kalen shouts out, laughing. The rest of the crew nervously attempt to stifle laughter at the stinging reproach.
Sigurd moves his eyes back to Q-Tip, but he's lost his resignation. His eyes are blank and cold, veins slowly emerging from his neck and forehead. His chest heaves with mighty breaths as he plods towards Q-Tip, a deadly berserker rage of red spreading across his sweaty face. Q-Tip brings up her mace like some kind of holy ward against a demonic invader, all sense of her location lost as she steps away from the unstoppable mass of hate steaming towards her.
"RrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRREAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGH!"
Like a bronze colossus bottled up into a dwarven frame, the mighty viking charges into Q-Tip, his axe knocking her mace out of her hands and spinning it into the ocean. He smashes into her, the butt of his axe coming up under her jaw nearly popping the eyes out of her skull. The two tangle up in a mass and tumble off the edge of the ship ...
SMASH comes the sound up to the platform as the two crash into the main deck. Kalen, devilish grin painting her bearded face as she and the crew stride towards the edge to see what damage has been done.
Sigurd stands up slowly, shaking his head, axe still in hand.
The viking appears to be fine as he collects himself and heads back up the stairs, never looking to see what has become of Q-Tip.
(http://img247.imageshack.us/img247/2374/qtipvssigurdeu0.jpg)
Kalen looks down at Q-Tip, barely breathing, her left leg cocked out at an impossible angle. Kalen turns, locks eyes with the rest of the crew, saying nothing.
They walk back towards the center of the platform. Sigurd is visibly shaking, still. Kalen places her hand on his massive shoulder.
"You're no elf, mate." she says softly, soothing him with her touch, "you need to remember that rage. Keep it as your secret weapon, because when you are facing a REAL enem--"
"Give me a weapon."
Kalen, not fond of surprises, slowly turns to see Q-Tip, bloody and bruised, her face still in the process of puffing up, grasping the railing to climb the stairs, her left leg flopping behind her.
(http://img365.imageshack.us/img365/5627/qtipkeepsgoinghs2.jpg)
"Hold there lassie," Kalen says, arms outstretched. "I see you're point, and I am duly impressed. You're no use to me dead, though. Go below and see that Boucher gets you some fresh water, eh?"
"Aye, cap'n," Q-Tip says weakly, her head held high, pride in her voice.
The crew stare at her, many mouths agape as she turns to head down the stairs, nearly crumpling with every step.
"You see that?" Kalen says, beaming. "Now that's a fucking PIRATE."
"Now, FIGHT!"
(OOC, Q-Tip really did immediately charge back up the stairs and attempt to spar again after being tossed off with Sigurd. I had to intervene, or she surely would've died.)
[ March 08, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
I know I haven't gotten in depth with all of the crew members, but, BEAR WITH ME:
More is coming, and everyone plays a part.
Telling this story has proved more difficult than I had thought. The nature of the fort is such that I must create a narrative without the constant comings and goings of immigrants, or creation of massive trades deals or monoliths or temples or mausoleums. Our 12 dwarves are confined to a relatively tiny area with very few materials to work with and absolutely NO unsolicited outside contact.
I've got a few more updates coming today though, and I promise every dwarf will have their say.
Here is a map of the surrounding area. The world is a 33x33 size. The ocean is listed as Haunted and the land is Terrifying.
(http://img148.imageshack.us/img148/1774/surroundingsbt7.jpg)
**
Next update coming momentarily.
[ March 08, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
The young dwarf hasn't touched his sextant in months. Kalen has had him on the deck of the ship, slipping around in sea foam and bloodstains learning to handle his weapon. He rocks back in his chair peering down the mahogany shaft of his well crafted spear, imagining the bullies from the temple of Iteg, taunting him for his weakness and pushing him off the ledge into the gangrenous pestilent waters of the church fountain.
(http://img503.imageshack.us/img503/4135/godofblightanddeathgj0.jpg)
The boys from the temple would never touch him now. His once frail arms are massive pipes, and his spear is now an agent of his unholy mistress.
"Session! Duncana, Professor!" Comes the cry from the Skipper, now arena master more than first mate.
Professor walks the halls on the churning deck, hearing the groans of his crewmates wounded during their rigorous training sessions. Q-Tip still wallows with a broken leg delivered by Sigurd. Sigurd himself is moaning in the next room over, himself badly wounded after a session with The Professors next opponent, Duncana. The former quartermistress had given up her logbooks completely, happily walking the path of the sword. Sigurd had learned the hard way that brute force can be diverted with agility and had found himself flying, alone this time, and with no cushy dwarven wench to pad his fall, down to the deck below.
The Professor remembers Duncana standing over the wounded viking, staring down at his bloodied frame, beaming with pride.
(http://img410.imageshack.us/img410/2240/tumbledtogetherxc4.jpg)
(http://img299.imageshack.us/img299/641/sigurdgotpwnedii6.jpg)
Boucher, when not cozying up to the now more trustworthy beardless one, has become something of the ships nurse. She delivers water and food to the wounded, carrying bloodied and broken dwarves below to heal while the dangerous training continues above. She walks past the professor, bucket of water in hand, heading for Q-Tip's bunk.
"See ye soon, laddie," she says sweetly, winking at the Professor with a knowing gaze.
(http://img299.imageshack.us/img299/4745/boucherwaterbi8.jpg)
He had been lucky, thus far, but he feared Boucher may be right. Duncana was quickly gaining a reputation for putting dwarves out of action, pleasing Kalen greatly.
On his way up to the deck, he passed Horatio, sitting alone in the galley, nursing a mug of grog, his nicked and bent steel sword tossed on the table like a drinking buddy after a bender. Horatio grabs at The Professors arm as he passes, not looking up from his drink.
"She's lost it." He says. "She's ginna crip'l es all, a'ar. Kalen's poisoned 'er mind, mate, an' she's buying inta all dis bloody scars and broken bones rubbish as if'n it will help us. Ahaar, when she's done wit' us, a merchant ship'll be able te take us out, for we will all be curled up in our bunks begging for water like li'l beebies instead of fighting and able."
The Professor looks down at Horatio. His arms are covered in minor nicks and cuts, smears of week old blood at the tips of his pig tail shirt. Horatio looks up and locks eyes with him.
"I tried, mate. Ye hav' te do et."
The Professor tugs at his arm, breaking Horatio's grip. He's become less fond of taking orders, particularly when they do not come from his captain. He storms up the deck, pausing only a moment to look back as Horatio sinks his head back to his mug, destitute and weary. Horatio has become a fine swordsman in the previous weeks, and if he couldn't find a way to take Duncana out of action, then The Professor would be hard put to do it himself.
Gripping his spear firmly and charging up the steps, he went to face Duncana.
'Mistress of death', he prays, meeting her eyes steadily, 'I give myself to you. Allow me to be a vessel of your plague. Let me cripple this upstart for the good of the ship that we may spread your plague across the lands as you would have it.'
Kalen is nowhere to be seen. She's been busy in her bunk, only stopping to see the wounded on occasion and deliver water, assuring them that their time out of action is well spent. Skipper stands on the edge, his logbook in hand, ready to record the outcome for his master.
Duncana does not wait for Skipper to give the call, she charges at The Professor the moment both his feet are on the level deck. Professor brings up his spear close to his chest, aiming for her cruel heart. 'I give myself', he prays, waiting, 'to you.'
Duncana slaps his spear aside, The Professor allowing himself to look open to attack. He watches calmly as Duncana flashes her gnarled teeth and slides her blade into his arm, disregarding any possible rules of fairplay. He continues praying as he calmly watches the blade sink through his flesh, allowing her to come nose to nose with him, impaled through his arm. He uses the leverage to turn the spear around, digging it's point into her lower body with his remaining strength before losing it to stuck in her back, a lake of blood bubbling up around it.
Skipper watches as blood flies across his shoes. A familiar sight. He's stopped cleaning them. His life is a world of dwarven blood and fishes guts.
The Professor lets out a mighty roar as he grabs the shocked Duncana. She kicks at his knees as he lifts her off the deck, her sword still pierced straight through his arm. She watches in horror as he squeezes with all his might, tipping over backwards onto the deck, her head streaming towards the ground like a catapult round. The last thing she sees before losing consciousness is her own blood spreading out like a shockwave in her field of vision, ever shrinking as darkness closes in.
The Professor stands up calmly. He grabs Duncana's blade and pulls it out of his arm, a slow and ghastly affair. Blood shoots out across ropes and tie lines. Professor drops the blade at Duncana's feet. "A plague on BOTH our wounds," he prays aloud, as the Skipper calmly jots down notes.
(http://img206.imageshack.us/img206/8452/professorpwnedtg6.jpg)
Clutching his arm, The Professor passes Horatio on his way down, blood painting his footsteps. Horatio looks up from his grog, saddened to see The Professor wounded as he had expected.
"It's done." The Professor softly grunts, not stopping. Horatio drops his mug, his eyes opened wide. Justice? Revenge, at last? Surely Duncana escaped major injury ...
Horatio awaits the call from Skipper to duel Duncana again, refusing to believe that the once weak professor had managed to do what he had failed so many times.
Instead, he is shocked to hear a call for Boucher. "BOUCHER! Bring some rope, she can't walk!"
Horatio hops up in a flash, eager to see his nemesis crippled at last. He stops halfway up to the deck, looking back at his sword on the gypsum table as it calls to him, 'finish her ...'. 'No,' he thinks, 'not yet.'
He lights up the stairs, Boucher on his heels.
A massive grin spreads across his face at the carnage awaiting him.
(http://img301.imageshack.us/img301/6051/duncanatumblesagainan7.jpg)
He is unable to gather the full extent of her wounds, but, aside from the spear embedded in her back, he can see that she is unconscious and her neck is swollen and cocked to the left. 'Oh please, let it be over,' he prays as Boucher runs to grab the wounded dwarf.
(http://img406.imageshack.us/img406/7333/bouchertotherescuezk0.jpg)
"Don't touch her!" Boucher cautions, kneeling in the mass of blood. "Her neck is broken. Bring me some rope and a plank of wood, I need to set it before she wakes up or she'll be crippled for life." Boucher's medical abilities were known across the ship and not one dwarf held a grudge against the brave girl. Horatio did as she asked, even though he wished Duncana the life of a cripple, he did not wish to displease the only one on board who would be willing to help him should he himself be wounded.
[ March 08, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
[ March 08, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
Horatio and Jaina had become sparring partners and fast friends in the wake of the decommissioning of Duncana. They'd shared their licks, Horatio nearly crippling Jaina's spine, receiving in turn a heavy wound to his sword-arm.
(http://img186.imageshack.us/img186/1865/horatiogothurtix8.jpg)
(http://img186.imageshack.us/img186/5862/jainahurtoo4.jpg)
Sigurd had recovered from his wounds, but the loss of blood had appeared to damage his already lacking mental faculties.
(http://img175.imageshack.us/img175/2897/sigurdbrainoh4.jpg)
As the days grew longer and the spring approached, the salty crew was transformed from sailors into pirates indeed.
Q-Tip managed to heal up from her wounds, leaving only a slight limp in her leg and a crook in her back.
(http://img72.imageshack.us/img72/4099/qtiphealedga1.jpg)
Fishgut Led had become a dangerous bastard with his salty blade. He'd cut up anyone in his path until the brain damaged Sigurd had managed to toss him a good twenty feet off the dueling platform and into the main mast of the ship.
(http://img177.imageshack.us/img177/8288/fishgutledspinezu1.jpg)
Led had no trouble recovering from the injury, though, for he was to be remembered as not only the most dangerous fisherman on the high seas, but one of the greatest, saltiest, toughest swordsdwarves to ever walk a ship.
Kalen was pleased with the injuries amongst her dwarves. They were stronger, tougher, and full of piss and grog the way pirates ought to be. She would soon have to put them to the test, though Horatio and The Professor were still out of action, for their ship would need to resupply before attacking their next target. The spring air brought harsh portents with it, as the crew made to dock in a nearby fishing village.
[ March 08, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
1, Granite, 1059, Early Spring:
The dread ship Bellsmaw and her devil dog pirate crew docked at a tiny island off the mainland peninsula. Kalen had sent a native boy to head to the village center and request a trade caravan be dispatched to their ship.
She'd ordered all of the skull and bones be brought down, replaced with the flags of the local government.
While they awaited the arrival of the innocent natives, Kalen and Skipper took stock of the situation.
"How many unable to walk?"
"Just 2, cap, Horatio and The Professor are still out. Imp has trained Beardless Bob to be quite the sniper with a crossbow as well, so you can count him among our combat ready."
"Excellent. How many are proficient with their weapons?"
"All but Q-Tip sir, she's only healed up two days ago and hasn't had a chance to get back up to spar again."
(http://img296.imageshack.us/img296/6296/combatspotsql9.jpg)
"Wonderful, we should be able to handle these traders easily." Skipper wasn't sure if Kalen had planned to rob them, but wasn't surprised at it either. The captains ruthlessness was evidenced by the stains of blood over every square foot of wood on the ship these days.
"Trader's, Cap!" Imp called down from the crow's nest.
"Get the men on deck, Skip. No armor, have them tuck their blades away until I give the order. Tell Bob and Imp to stay fast on the crows nest and be ready to plug anybody that gets in our way. No fighting until they're fully aboard the ship, you got it?"
The crew assembled on the deck, some of them scrubbing, others bringing a few useless scraps of wood in bins to the virgin trade depot as though preparing to make a deal. Kalen left her giant warhammer in her bunk as it would be entirely too large to conceal from the traders eye's, but she was not worried for she was deadly enough with her bare hands. With Imp and Bob providing cover, this should prove to be a very profitable 'trade'.
Kalen ordered the gang plank lowered and the traders began pulling their carts aboard, the village emissary meeting Kalen at the depot. "A fine ship," he offered, his eyes perusing the conspicuous masses concealed by drapes of macaque leather. Siege weapons had been ordered covered, though their bulky mass was hardly unrecognizable.
Kalen gave him a toothy grin, her eyes sparkling as she watched the traders bring up crate after crate of food and booze and treasure, already counting the plunder in her mind --
Her grin dissolved into a frosty glare as she watched a group of caravan guards emerge from behind the last of the wagons. 4 armored dwarves with massive hammers trailed by 2 crossbowmen, quivers full and glittering, their trained eyes flickering across the deck, accounting for every one of her men.
'Son of Armok, they knew we weren't merchants ...', she thought, furious. 'One of my men must've tipped them off, we've got a bloody traitor aboard!'
The emissary, seeing her rage and confusion, stepped up and offered, "Madam trader, we do not wish to offend you with our guards. The island has seen a sharp increase in vicious Kobold ambushes. The mongrels have begun carrying spears and traveling in packs, attacking anyone with anything of value. I assure you our guards are here only for your protection."
Kalen, instead of being relieved, was far more infuriated at the thought of some yokel fisherdwarf offering to assist HER and HER ship. Her heart raced as she imagined grabbing the emissaries head and reaching her hand down his throat to grab out his heart and toss it to the gulls. As the guards came on deck and set up positions around the depot, though, she quelled her rage. She must try and make the best of this. Even if they couldn't take ALL of the supplies, they NEEDED some of them.
Kalen yelled to her dwarves, "Grab our trade goods boys, and make it snappy, we're quite safe here!" The crew was well aware of the situation and scurried down below to bring up as much as they could.
While the men were offloading, Kalen paced the deck, walking by the plank, her eye on the lever. She would certainly be able to ...
"KOBOLDS!" Imp shouted from above, alarm bells ringing.
(http://img116.imageshack.us/img116/7929/koboldzsq2.jpg)
Kalen turned to her right, staring across the plank as 5 kobolds, spears in hand, rushed towards her. A bat ray bolt hissed down from above, piercing the first one's head and knocking him clean off the plank. The remaining four were unphased and heading directly at her.
Kalen grabbed the spear tip thrust at her chest and tugged with all her might, sending the startled Kobold careening into the trade depot where the guards pounced on him. Kalen now stood alone, unarmed, in front of two agile kobolds, their spear tips weaving in her face as the foolish guards behind her took their time bludgeoning the one she'd thrown them.
The first kobold lunged at her and she grabbed his spear, pulling him close, head butting him and splattering his canine nose. She leaned back to place her foot on his chest, but the other Kobold made a swift move and she suddenly felt a searing pain in her face. Heaving with her foot at the first kobold, she kicked him off the plank, her vision fading and turning red. 'Has this mongrel killed me?' she though, stumbling backwards, blinded. "EEAAH, KILL THEM!" Kalen shouts out, her hands grasping her face as she collapses onto the deck.
The guards and her crew stream out across the plank, bolts hissing over their shoulders and perforating the remaining kobold like a porcupine, his body cleaned into a dozen pieces as he fell into the shallows below.
Skipper had been hiding in the depot during the action, clutching his logbook, but at the sound of Kalens scream he rushes out to her aid.
She was sitting on the deck, blood streaming down her face, her hands blocking him from seeing where she was hurt. He bit his tongue as he kneeled towards her and saw that blood was streaming out between the cracks in her fingers. He felt weak and faint, lost and alone without his captain in charge and livid.
"Captain! Here let me--"
"No, finish the trade and leave me be, you fucking worthless cronie!" Kalen hissed, turning away from him and slowly standing.
Boucher came up from below decks, "Captain can I--," she offered, clean rags and water in hand. "Leave me be!" Kalen hissed again, still clutching her face.
Skipper, his heart in his throat, turned back to the traders.
He halfheartedly filled out the ledger and reached a decidedly unpirately deal with the locals. After signing the sheafs of papers, he walked out onto the deck to see that Kalen has disappeared. Skipper wanted to go to her side, but knew that she would rebuke him for it. He stood and watched as the traders began packing up their goods and heading for the plank.
"Thank you, boys!" Kalen shouted, coming down from the deck, a wet rag pressed up against her face, red with fresh blood. "Thank you SO much for saving us from those dastardly kobolds!" Skipper winced at her sardonic tone, checking to see if the traders had taken offense. The guards waited, their eyes hawkishly watching her as she came to apparently see them off.
"Good day to you and a good journey to your dwarves!" The emissary said back, his voice twittering as he pored over the trade dividends. A fine deal, they'd made.
"No, no!" Kalen shouted back, all kindness drained from her voice. "Good journey to YOU!" She said, as she walked purposefully towards the plank. Skippers jaw dropped as he watched his captain, not believing what he was seeing with his own eyes.
(click movie link before proceeding ^_^)
Skipper balked as Kalen swiftly delivered her thanks to the merchant villagers.
"I will come back for the rest of you!" Kalen shouted as the remaining traders broke like a pack of rats, fleeing from the carnage, screaming. Imp fired off a few bolts halfheartedly, ensuring that they did not turn back to attempt retribution.
Kalen, her back turned to the deck, threw the bloody rag out across to the dock, cursing the traders as they fled.
The crew assembled behind her, glad that the ordeal had ended.
Kalen turned to them, slowly. The crew attempted to hide their horror at the sight of her face.
(http://img207.imageshack.us/img207/4517/kalenlostaneyeam5.jpg)
Her left eye was a bloody mess, a black hole of gore and bits of bone and puss. Boucher held her tongue, ready to assist if the captain needed it, but sensing that she was not ready to be helped just yet.
Kalen stood firm, unshaken, her remaining eye moving from dwarf to dwarf, the gaping hole in her face visible for all to see.
"You see what happens", she said calmly, daring them to look into the gaping socket, "When we are not prepared?"
Salty gusts of seafoam touched at the hole but Kalen did not flinch. She even managed a bit of a grin. "We've all given our blood to this journey, now." She reported, blandly. "We are all in this, together as one. From now on, we are PIRATES, always and forever, and TO THE DEATH!"
The crew gave a hurrah as Kalen ordered them to shove off. She grabbed Fishgut Led and asked him to craft her an eyepatch out of some fine leather, letting Boucher touch at the wound with a rag. "Get that rag away from me wench, I don't need water, I need grog!" Boucher smiled at her weakly, trying hard not to look at the hole in her captains face.
The Bellsmaw, bloodier than ever, began to pull up the anchor. Kalen went to her quarters to ponder the days events. Skipper was off somewhere, doing god knows what. She called for him to join her. She would ask him to do some clerical work, but really, she wished for his company. Things were not going exactly as she had planned.
"Skipper!" She called out, sitting at her desk, placing her hand over her empty eye socket.
He did not come.
"SKIPPER!" She shouted, impatiently.
Moments later he ran up the stairs and burst into the room. "Captain," he started, a look of concern on his face.
"Oh stow it you pansy, it's fine, I've still got one left. Pull up a chair an--"
"No, Captain ... That's not what I was going to say."
Kalen waited, perturbed.
"OUT WITH IT then!" She ordered.
"Sir, you need to ..." he paused, glancing at her eye socket, "see this yourself ..."
Kalen grunted as she stood up, following her first mate out onto the deck.
"What on earth could you possibly be," she began, as he led her across the deck.
They stopped, her eye on the back of Skipper's head as he refused to turn to face her.
"WHAT?" She demanded, furious.
"Look, Cap." Skipper responded, his voice faint.
(http://img267.imageshack.us/img267/212/wellrundrynl4.jpg)
"Oh my blood god ..." Kalen whispered, her eyes staring down at the empty well. They must've leaked some overboard, or perhaps all these wounded dwarves had sapped their supplies sooner than she had planned.
"How many are still wounded?" Kalen asked.
"Two, cap. Horatio and the Professor."
"Shit," Kalen cursed, "FUCK!"
***
Horatio sat up in his bunk, his arm burning. He'd been having a nightmare. He'd dreamt that a great shark had bit his arm off and thrown him into a barren desert and he'd been picked to pieces by hungry scarabs. The lanterns stood still, a sign that they hadn't left port yet. Horatio was wondering about then when he heard The Professor moaning in the next room over. Nightmares were common amongst the wounded dwarves and their moans were frequent sights.
"Waater," came the raspy voice from The Professors room. Horatio heard Boucher trundle by, ever diligent for her charges well being. Horatio leaned back into his bed, glad to have her services. He closed his eyes, nearly drifting off before they shot open again at the sound of Boucher's tortured wail.
(http://img233.imageshack.us/img233/9158/ohgodofuckww5.jpg)
[ March 09, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
Note: Didn't get a chance to read any of the last updates til now. Been out of town.
Retro
Edit: Just missed your last post. Eyepatch for Kalen then? We just need to steal a few exotic pets from the elves and we are set then! No water though....*sigh* hope I don't go out so meekly after the impressive fight.
[ March 08, 2008: Message edited by: Retro42 ]
Edit: Cheating, but using the water tile creating tool and saying the prof created a urine purifying machine could be nice. Or hell, just have your pirates drinking urine. It's nice and salty, so I've heard.
[ March 08, 2008: Message edited by: Dasqoot ]
Keep up the good writing!
In the mean time, again, if anybody would like to interject anything for their characters, please do so. I'll post up updated profile pages in a moment so we can all take a stock of the crews morale.
I'm even starting to like life aboard this ship.
The deep red color of fresh dwarven blood paints the deck and soothes my nausea caused by the hated sun.
And when the daily sparring sessions end, the evening sun itself turns red and seems to transform the waters of the sea into blood.
When the homely darkness sets in at night, those of us who can walk sit together and drink. And drink. And we curse the captain even when she can hear us. Curse her for the salty fish we have to eat. Curse her for our hardships.
And then we will raise our bottles and praise her for making real dwarves out of us.
Somehow I have been spared somewhat as far as the daily sparring sessions are concerned. I have been told to train with the crossbow. "Have to learn to use this before you even think of trying a ballista", the captain said.
I don't mind, I like bolts.
Maybe if I'd hone my skills in making bolts, I could devise a way to add some extra *demolition* to them. I would have to keep it a secret ofcourse for you never know who to trust these days.
For that purpose, I've been taking some samples of big white bird droppings. It seems that if I treat it right, I can extract ingredients from it for making more powder. I would need charcoal also and dragon bones. Charcoal is not much of a problem if I am discrete. Dragon bones however..
[ March 08, 2008: Message edited by: martinuzz ]
"I'm so sorry."
"Ugh ..." The Professor responded, his voice raspy and his eyes bloodshot, staring up at the familiar face. He could barely make out its features, but the voice was female.
"I ... I can't believe I did this to you ... "
A warm hand grasped his shivering and shaking left hand, caressing it. He closed his eyes and smiled, thinking of his mother, his sisters, and his dreadful goddess and the pestilence coursing through his veins.
"I ... I love you." Duncana said, before planting a kiss on his parched lips and leaving him.
(http://img213.imageshack.us/img213/890/duncanaprofpx8.jpg)
She gently closed the door, sobbing. She'd been so taken by the combat, the bloodshed, the thought of being a fierce and mighty pirate that she'd forgotten the wellbeing of her mates. The Professor was a good man. He was only doing what was best for the ship when he smashed her into the deck. She'd nearly killed him for no other reason than to please the Captain, and now, without water, he may die anyway. All because of her.
(http://img213.imageshack.us/img213/3201/profproflollercz7.jpg)
She was NOT going to let that happen. She vowed, then and there, sobbing against the bulkheads of the gently rocking docked ship, that even if it cost her her life, she would save this dwarf.
Her neck tingled from the wound he'd given her, a paltry trade.
(http://img213.imageshack.us/img213/9099/duncneckcp7.jpg)
She'd spent every day since her recovery at his side, telling him stories, whispering in his ear and bringing him food and water. The water was gone though, again, partially her doing, due to the number of badly wounded dwarves she'd sent sailing across the ship.
She vowed to save him, no matter the cost.
Love the idea of him creating special bolts, too! He has been bolt crafting, I was surprised to see that he'd managed to make some Bat Ray bolts ... I didn't even know they had bones!
Kalen and Skipper were tossing ideas back and forth in the captains chambers.
"Okay, everyone is combat ready except for Horatio and The Professor, eh?"
"Aye cap, The Professor 'aint doing so hot, but Horatio seems to be in high spirits."
(http://img341.imageshack.us/img341/6197/horatioprofsr9.jpg)
"What of the rest of the crew?"
Skipper read off his notes on the morale and recent developments:
(http://img213.imageshack.us/img213/72/bobprofgn3.jpg)
"Good, good," Kalen responded.
"He seems to have an unhealthy fascination with gull droppings, cap ..."
"Let him do as he pleases, he kills kobolds good."
Skipper continued down the roster:
(http://img213.imageshack.us/img213/9194/fishgutprofqn8.jpg)
"My my, we can use that anger. I'd like to see him lead the landing part when we go to get water, he's our best swordsman."
"Aye cap," Skipper continued:
(http://img213.imageshack.us/img213/5581/impprofbm1.jpg)
"Good, good, he's done a fine job making a marksdwarf out of Bob, I'd like him to lead the fire support team for the landing party."
"Aye," Skipper nodded, marking in his book:
(http://img341.imageshack.us/img341/9976/jainaprofxu1.jpg)
"We'll need her to build some kind of trough to funnel water down the well once we've found a fresh source. Take her off military duty, she's to be back in her role as chief carpentry officer. Can Boucher assist her?"
Skipper responded:
(http://img257.imageshack.us/img257/1116/boucherprofho6.jpg)
"Excellent, yes, give her a hammer and some nails, we'll need both of them to work swiftly before we're boarded by these bastard locals or more of those fucking kobolds." Kalen unconsciously touched her new eyepatch, a habit she was quickly developing.
[cont'd]
(http://img213.imageshack.us/img213/3220/kalenprofvu7.jpg)
"Forget about me, Skip, we've got work to do. I need you to be in top shape though, are you having any problems?"
(http://img505.imageshack.us/img505/5629/skiipperprofuu7.jpg)
"Chin up, will you? You aren't dead yet, you know. You said Q-Tip has recovered, we'll need her to support the landing party."
"Aye, cap, she's got a bit o' a limp, but she'll do fine."
(http://img505.imageshack.us/img505/7050/qtipprofhw4.jpg)
"Very well. And what of Sigurd, our resident brain damaged viking? I need his muscle and his axe badly, we'll be a sore group without him at the front lines."
"He's happy as hell cap, I'd bet ye could slice 'is arm of'n he wouldn't even notice."
(http://img505.imageshack.us/img505/7136/sigurdproftx0.jpg)
"Wonderful. Grab all the combat ready dwarves, get them suited up.
We're going ashore."
[ March 08, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
quote:
Originally posted by Fenrir:
<STRONG>I've got a calm demeanor. I guess that's "a calm demeanor for a viking".</STRONG>
I love the part about him being willing to compare himself favorably with others. Viking pride, eh? =)
quote:Aye!
Originally posted by valcon:
<STRONG>I love the part about him being willing to compare himself favorably with others. Viking pride, eh? =)</STRONG>
[ March 08, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
He had access to all of his favorite things in life on this ship. Fishing, rum, fighting, well-made doors and rum. Ah, the stories that he could tell of his life on board this ship, and he was just getting started with his adventures!
Yes, Fisghut Led was happy. But he had heard that there were water troubles aboard, and he saw the opportunity to earn a reward on top of all his other pleasures. "Arrrrh...." he said thoughtfully, tapping his brown and sun-wrinkled nose and turning his salt-and-guts-encrusted mind back over the plans of the salt filtration systems he had made during his stint in the King's Navy. Perhaps he could get an increased rum ration as a reward... The rest of the blighters could drink all the water they wanted, for all he cared. More rum for him.
.
You've got a compartment for water, right? Well, open up a hole in the deck above it, and plant this little beauty over the water:
code:~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~
═══O%O═══
++++%++++
++++#++++
+++++++++
% = pump (north to south, obviously)
# = hole
If that doesn't work, build it like this:
code:
O+%╔═
+O%║+
+║+║+
+╚═╝+
Aharr, it's good to see that I'm turning into a right-feared pirate! I really wasn't expecting to be that good at swordplay. I guess tangling with sharks and carp can give you a little skill in such matters...
And there's plenty of interest, it's just a little hard to add anything to the story, so we're just sitting back and enjoying the show.
....WHY IS THE RUM GONE!....*pirates of the carribean* :)
... by Armok, I might even decide to finally join a fortress, should you decide to take on some scallywags.
*Fenrir, I don't think Sigurd's brain will heal, but, I'm pretty sure his muscle well makes up for it :)
14th, Felsite, Late Spring, 1059:
Duncana walks into the captains chambers suited up and armed to the teeth, a bucket strapped to her back.
"Captain!", she hails, standing at attention.
Kalen has her back turned as she adjusts her tri-pointed carp leather pirate hat. She turns to address Duncana, crocodile leather eye-path glistening. Duncana, even having known the entire story, as utterly floored by the majestic look of her captain. Never has a dwarf been so fitting a pirate than Kalen, the scarred, one eyed scurvy scourge of the high seas.
"Aye, Duncana, speak your mind. Make it quick, we've a mission to accomplish today."
"Cap," Duncana said solemly, stepping closer, "I know we've a mission. Let me go first, alone."
"Pardon?"
"The Professors wounds are my doing. Let me get him water. I don't care if I get ambushed, if I do, I'll fire off one of these!" She opened her palm, a long stick of wrapped leather in her hand.
"Eh?" Kalen asked, confused, her eye taking in the strange device.
"Beardless Bob, you know, you saw him playing with the gull ... uh ... droppin's?" "Aye," Kalen responds, noting the sickly yellow goo gooping out of the end of the leather roll.
"'E's made a flare, cap. I just smash it into 'e ground 'n it makes a cloud 'o smoke. Imp can spot it a mile away. If I get ambushed, I'll fire 'et 'afore I go down and ye'll have a jump on the bastards."
Kalen saw no need for this act of bravery. 5 well armed dwarves could fend off most ambushes without sustaining an injury. However, she could see the torture wrinkling Duncana's once innocent face. Kalen knew the feeling of responsibility. Her scars burned of the mouth of the shark that had felled her previous crew, and she felt a sudden twinge of jealousy that Duncana would have a chance to repent her sins. Kalen had never been given such a chance.
"Go on then," Kalen said, turning her back. Duncana needed this, and the crew could go on without her.
Duncana said nothing as she turned to leave, pocketing the disgusting device.
(http://img232.imageshack.us/img232/6289/duncanascoutxz6.jpg)
Q-Tip kept watch on the plank as Duncana stepped off purposefully, never looking back.
Kalen walked out on the deck while Duncana was away, calling her combat ready crew to come to deck.
"Suit up boys, we've a mission to accomplish. We've got 'te secure a perimeter around a nearby lake while Jaina and Boucher construct a wee aqueduct to fill our well before Horatio and The Professor croak."
Skipper stumbled out of the captains quarters and fell down the steps onto the deck. Kalen watched, perplexed, as he slowly stood up to join with the landing party.
His steel helm was on backwards, and his shield was upside down.
Sigurd ripped out a laugh and slapped Skipper on the back, causing him to drop his shield and sword. Kalen glared at Sigurd him with her one fiery eye as she strode past, silencing him. She turned Skipper's helmet around and handed him his blade and shield, right side up.
"Skip, you're a brave lad, but you're no good with that blade. Keep an eye on this lever while we're gone. You see hide or hair of anything coming towards the docks, don't you hesitate, you pull it, you got it?"
"Aye, cap," Skipper replied, a mix of disappointment and relief tainting his voice.
A sharp and crackled wail came up from below decks. The Professor was in the final throes of dehydration, his mind a maze of false hopes and utter despair. Kalen winced. The aqueduct would take days, and he had merely hours to live, so if Duncana did---
"CAP!", Imp's voice rang out from above.
Kalen's heart sunk. Two more good pirates to die under he watch, it would seem. She shouldered her massive warhammer and prepared to go and fight her way ashore.
"Cap!?"
"I know Imp, we'll try and get to her!" She shouted, preparing to board the plank.
"No cap, she's on her way back!"
Kalens eye lit up as she spotted Duncana in the distance, quickly navigating the rocky shoreline, a bucket of water clasped closely to her chest. Kalen smiled softly and the crew let out a cheer as Duncana came back on board, never taking her eyes off the bucket, her steps careful as she made her way below deck.
Duncana homed in on the sound of her wailing lovers parched voice, his throat cracking and insanity bubbling on his paper white lips.
(http://img152.imageshack.us/img152/5530/professornickoftimehk8.jpg)
She slowly opened the door to his bunk, whispering "Shhhhh ..." as she placed the bucket to his lips. He sucked eagerly at the clear refreshing water, his bloodshot eyes popping open and locking on hers. He finally recognized the she dwarf who had been with him in his time of despair. It had not been his mother, his sister, nor his cruel goddess of blight. Duncana looked down at him softly as he gasped for air, his mind clearing.
"Not too much, ye'll explode," she whispered, tears at the corners of her eyes.
The bucket was nearly empty, but she went to check on Horatio.
"I'll be fine lassy, ye' just make sure we get the well workin' again, eh?" Duncana nodded as she left. She began to make her way up to the deck to rejoin the crew, but The Professor called out to her. 'He's still insane with dehydration', she thought, continuing her pace. He cried out again, no despair or insanity in his voice, this time mild irritation.
Duncana turned and went to check on him. "Wait, tell the Captain to call off the landing party." Duncana looked confused. "There's no more water'n te' well, mate. Ye'll die for sure this time, 'nd we can't stay at port forever."
"Bring me Fishgut Led and Beardless Bob. I had a dream while I was out and I think I know the answer." The Professor reached feebly across to the table to grab his precious notebook and pencil, covered in dust from his neglect of intellectual pursuits. He began scribbling something down while Duncana went to inform the Captain.
Kalen heard her story and request to stop the party and was skeptical. A madman asking favors was not her favorite way to decide the fate of her men, but again, something in Duncana's face persuaded her to agree. However, the landing party was an incredibly dangerous venture, and anything to possibly avoid it was a good thing.
"Alright boys, shoulder them sabres, we'll see what this old coot has up his sleeve. Bob, Fishgut, see what he has in mind."
Later that evening:
Fishgut Led sat up in his chair, his sword falling off his lap, jolting awake. The Professor and Beardless Bob we're comparing notes, jotting down chemical formulas and reactions. "Ye nodded off lad," The Professor whispered, his voice still raspy. "We've got the formula down, but mechanically, it seems impossible with our supplies ..."
Fishgut waved him to shut his mouth, a look of urgency on his face. "Quick, hand me the pad before I forget, I've seen it in my dream ..."
Fishgut scribbled something down, handing the book back to The Professor before standing up to leave. "I don't know if it'll work, I don't even quite understand it, but I saw it."
quote:
~~~~~~~~~
~~~~~~~~~
═══O%O═══
++++%++++
++++#++++
+++++++++
The Professor and Bob stared at it a moment before both looking up, shocked. "It's perfect!" They both said, eyes alight at the solution process.
'Bloody nerdlubbers,' Fishgut thought as he shouldered his blade and headed up to the deck, still unsure of what he'd drawn.
Beardless Bob came charging up behind him, slapping him on the shoulders as Fishgut sat to have a mug of grog in the galley.
Bob headed up swiftly to the captains chambers where Kalen was pacing, uneasy at the delay.
"Well?" She asked before he'd fully entered the room.
"We've got it figger'd cap, but ... well. We need more wood."
'Damnit,' Kalen thought, 'we could've secured the shore by now and we've got to go out anyway. If The Professor lives I'll make sure to kill him later.'
"Fine, fine, tell the men to get ready."
Brave and salty as the sea they yearned for, the landing crew went ashore.
(http://img517.imageshack.us/img517/5513/landingpartyxc7.jpg)
[ March 09, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
Fishgut Led held out his hand to the party. Sigurd, Q-Tip and Imp held their ground as they waited, not seeing anything in the distance.
"I smell it ..." Fishgut said, his nose curling up. Q-Tip and Imp looked at each other, shrugging. They smelled nothing. Q-Tip looked to see if Sigurd had noticed anything, but he was staring open mouthed at a passing sparrow, a fleck of drool at his lip. 'Poor thug,' Q-Tip thought, remembering his headwound.
"Imp, stay 'ere and cover me, Q-Tip, Sigurd, stay close."
Q-Tip walked a few steps behind Fishgut, mace at the ready. She looked back to check on Sigurd and saw him curl up around a rock and go to sleep. 'Bloody lug,' she thought, a fond smile draping her bearded face. Imp chuckled as he moved to sit on the slumbering viking, readying his crossbow.
Fishgut and Q-Tip made their way into the grove, eyes peeled and sensing danger.
Q-Tip was still looking around confused when, without warning, Fishgut took off at a sprint. Q-Tip struggled to keep pace with the frenzied dwarf as he ran through the trees as if his arse were on fire. She rounded a massive oak log and stopped dead in her tracks at the sight.
Fishgut Led was crouched over, slowly approaching something in the distance, his sword clenched in his teeth, bare hands at the ready. Q-Tip stopped dead in her tracks when she saw what he was stalking:
(http://img201.imageshack.us/img201/1717/fishgutvsswordfishzu7.jpg)
Fishgut inched closer and closer to the spiked and pearly behemoth, it's massive sword tipped skull weaving in the distance. It turned in a flash, rattling it's bony frame as it spotted Fishgut.
The brave dwarf let out a roar and rushed at the unholy abomination. Q-Tip struggled to follow, her heart dead in her throat and her feet wobbly, hands weak and drained of blood.
Fishgut had no such qualms. He eagerly leaped at the churning mass of sharpened bones and cartilage, grabbing his sword from his teeth with his right hand. Q-Tip faltered and stopped, letting out a yelp as Fishgut grabbed the demon fishes sword-skull with his bare left hand, blood spraying out.
Fishgut, reveling in the fight and disregarding his bloody hand, jerked hard at the fishes head, dragging its gaping maw open. He immediately shoved his sword hand down the beasts bony throat, Q-Tip watching through the lines of razor sharp teeth and ribs as Fishgut jammed his blade in the beasts spine, twisting hard. Rows of vertebrae cracked and popped out, the flailing rear of the fish shattering into a thousand bones, as Fishgut withdrew his sword arm to jab the blade quickly into the gaping eye socket, screaming as he twisted, jerking the skull with his bloody left hand until it cracked and split under the force of his trained muscles.
(http://img405.imageshack.us/img405/8191/fishguttriumphsuq7.jpg)
Q-Tip watched in awe as Fishgut threw the beasts skull to the ground, wiping his bloody hand on his chain shirt.
"Ahhhhhhh", Fishgut sighed, joy and relief spreading across his face as he stood in the woods. He turned to the stunned Q-Tip, a grin lighting on his lips.
"I love fishing."
(http://img444.imageshack.us/img444/5671/fishgutwinszzzmp5.jpg)
He grabbed the part of the broken skull and tossed it to Q-Tip. She balked, juggling the bloody shattered razor sharp mess of bone. "What the hell am I supposed to do with this?" she asked, disgusted.
"Give it to Kalen for me. I get the feeling she doesn't like undead ocean fish, she'll be pleased. Tell her to send the woodcutters, it's safe now." Fishgut leaned up against a nearby tree, calmly looking up at the sky, his face serene under the evening sun.
Skipper has been asking question about my interest in bird droppings.
I suppose he is only being concerned about the ship's safety. But still, I'd rather not share my knowledge of making gunpowder. In the wrong hands it would be a threat to us all.
So I feigned an interest in marine biology and encouraged him to tell me more about the big white birds. Seagulls he calls them.
For a dwarf who dislikes science and intellectual discussion, as we have come to know Skipper, he sure does know a lot about the local fauna.
Must have spent a lot of time above ground. I don't envy him.
Although he seemed happy to share his knowledge, I get the feeling I didn't quite satisfy his curiosity.
I think I have another plan though. Still that would cost me some of my precious gunpowder...
Jaina, Boucher, Skipper and the gang are carrying the last bundles of wood aboard the ship. Beardless Bob is overseeing the construction on the deck, Kalen still unable to grasp what exactly they are working on.
"I don't understand." Kalen states, standing next to Bob as Jaina begins to peel back some of the aft deck planks. "Why aren't we building an aqueduct?"
"Don't need one, cap." Bob is twirling his bag of gunpowder in his hand as he watches the construction, concerned about the Captains reaction when he finally tells her what the plan will be. He's learned much from Skipper and the gulls, though most of his biological studies were learned in the past two days under the tutelage of The Professor, who once served as an altar boy in the temple of Blight. He certainly knows a thing or two about dwarven waste.
Boucher walks up on the deck with the galley waste bucket in her hands, a wet rag soaked with grog wrapped tight around her nose and mouth. Her disgust is visible as she brings the churning yellow bucket to the deck and sets it down near Jaina while she sets the final touches up on the bizzare contraption.
Tubes of leather and microcline gears bristle out of the oaken frame copper shields mounted underneath as some kind of makeshift pan, a kaolinite handle jutting out the side.
"What the hell is that, then?" Kalen asks, furious, as Boucher sets her disgusting package on the deck.
"Piss, cap," Bob responds, twirling his charm.
"You're fucking kidding me. Toss it overboard!" Boucher hesitates, looking at Bob, before reaching to lift it.
"Wait, stop." Bob asks, turning to the captain. Kalen swiftly strikes him in the ear, drawing her sword and heading to Boucher. "I am your Captain and you follow MY orders, not his. Now toss that overboard!"
Bob intervenes, setting himself between Kalens sword tip and Boucher. "Just wait, captain. Hear me out." His ear is stinging from the blow, but he knew it was coming.
"You've worked the still before, cap, brewing plump helmets?"
Kalen glares her eye at him, staring down her sword, not lowering an inch, "Aye." She waits.
"This is a still. For piss. Turn it into water." Kalen laughs, looking at the confusing nest of bolts and tubes and pans and spikes. She laughs, but lowers her sword a little. She's given them so much leeway in the past few days she is running the risk of losing authority, but if she backs down now, she'll make a fool of herself and then be forced to make yet another landing. If she lets them have their fun and try and drink their own piss, Professor will die, probably Horatio too, but it'll be on Bob's head, not hers, and the plank has yet to walk a mate.
"Alright, but I 'aint touching that nasty shite." Kalen responds, sheathing her sword.
Jaina grabs the rag from Boucher and ties it around her face. She has no hope for success in this venture but badly wants to get it overwith so they can embark, no matter how many people die.
"Okay Jaina, careful now, pour it in right there," Bob instructs, pointing at a makeshift trough constructed of narrow copper greaves liberated from minced kobold corpses.
(http://img182.imageshack.us/img182/9466/pumpopsoe0.jpg)
Bob holds his breath, clenching his powder tight. He runs through the equations in his head again. It's got to work. It HAS to work!
Jaina carefully pours the disgusting contents into the still, never spilling a drop as Kalen's watchful eye glares at her from the railing on the stairs up to her room.
Setting down the waste container, she carefully follows The Professors instructions, adjusting the tubes, and begins to crank slowly at the rotten contraption. The suns rays reflect off a steel shield hanging from the royal sail rigging, shining down on the piss, setting off an awful reek. Bob looks on, unaware of the stench, the insides of his nose long since singed to olfactory oblivion.
Suddenly, out of the end nozzle leading into the ship's cistern, comes a single drop of piss ... no, no, not piss, Bob notes, elated, something clear. Crystal clear. Beautiful clear water. "Pump faster, Jaina!" He exclaims, getting excited.
Jaina pumps faster, a flow of clear beautiful water pouring out of the nozzle. The vile piss is boiling and steaming, collecting on the carp leather tarp and dripping into the various nozzles and hoses, pumping through the gravel filters and out the end into the well.
"Keep going Jaina!" Bob leans over the well, peering inside. His face is split from ear to ear with a grin. The well is nearly full ... almost ... there, just there. "Okay Jaina!"
BLAMMO
(http://img206.imageshack.us/img206/2360/pisseverywheresr8.jpg)
Sigurd is below decks when he hears the explosion. He grabs his axe and heads to the deck, following the sound of the captains vitriolic cursing. When he emerges, he is welcome to an odd sight. Kalen is standing near her quarters, covering her nose and waving her sword around, cursing at everything she can set her eye on. Jaina is retching over the railing into the ocean, and Bob ... Bob is laughing. He's covered from head to toe in some disgusting liquid that begins to send tendrils of noxious scent up Sigurd's nose.
"What smell funny?" The lumbering dwarf asks, his eyes watering at the stench as he moves up the deck. Bob is still laughing, never moving to clean himself.
"You stupid son of an elf!" Kalen shouts down, covering her nose as she descends the steps. "You've ruined my ship, you idiot! And we're still fish out of wa--"
Bob is hauling up the chain to the well, bring up a bucket, still chuckling. "Hold it cap," he says, bringing out the bucket. He presents it to her, clear liquid in his hands.
"Get that shit away from me you disgusting worthless mongrel!"
Bob, sensing she was very near her breaking point, decides to end the confrontation. He quickly brings the bucket to his lips, and takes a big, long, drink. Jaina looks up from the rail, see's Bob, and immediately goes back to retching.
"Ahhhh," Bob sighs, setting down the empty bucket and patting his stomach. "A tad warm, but fresh!" He wipes his mouth and offers Kalen to take a look. She walks over, tip toeing over the puddles of urine surrounding the well, and peers down inside.
(http://img88.imageshack.us/img88/1711/wellnv8.jpg)
"Well I'll be a shark's fin ..." Kalen sticks her head down the well and takes a whiff. Smells like cedar chips and water.
She pulls her head out and turns to beaming Beardless Bob, immediately planting a solid right hook into his hairless scarred jaw. He drops to the deck, stunned, falling in a puddle with a splat.
"WELL DONE!" Kalen says, standing over him. "While you're down there, you can celebrate by CLEANING ALL THIS PISS OFF MY FUCKING SHIP!" Kalen tosses a rag down on Bob's face, storming off.
Skipper pokes his head out the door to the captains chambers, his nose crinkling, he quickly decides better of it and ducks back inside.
Duncana runs up to the deck and sees the tragedy and her heart sinks. The Professors plan failed ...
She walks over to the well and is shocked to see the beautiful crystal water sloshing inside. "YOU DID IT!" Bob, laying on the deck clutching his jaw, covered in piss, offers up a weak smile. Duncana, ignoring his disgusting urine covered face, leans down and plants a kiss on his cheek before hoisting a bucket to bring to The Professor, Jaina grabbing one for Horatio.
* * * *
"It worked though, cap!" Skipper says, elated, quickly closing the door behind her. Kalen had not stopped cursing every step of the way back to her quarters.
"Aye, right it did, but look at my ship! Smell my ship!" She grumbles, pacing back and forth.
"But cap, we can leave now! We can finally lift anchor and get away! Surely the villagers have launched a party to get revenge for the traders we dropped in the ocean by now, we'd better leave before they show up."
"Aye, you're right Skipper, let's be off then. Tell the dwarves to up anchor" Kalen looks at the swordfish skull mounted on her wall, a gift from Fishgut Led. "Tell Fishgut to join me in my quarters, I'd like to have him tell me 'bout how he bested this beast. Oh, and, make yourself scarce for a while, sleep in the galley if you don't hear from me by nightfall."
"Aye ... cap ... ?" Skipper says, confused, setting out the door.
Skipper steps out on deck, closing the door, put off by the scenario. He's to go hop around the deck covered in piss while that lug Fishgut gets to share time with the Captain?
Skipper organizes the crew and has Sigurd lift the chain to the massive anchor, Jaina pulling up the gang plank as Skipper mans the wheel. Fishgut Led walks by, heading to the mast to undo the main lines, but Skipper stops him.
"Captain wants to see you, Led. Don't be too long, we need you out here!" Skipper lies as Fishgut turns up to the Captains quarters. Skipper cranks the wheel angrily, looking over his shoulder as Fishgut knocked on the captains door, disappearing inside.
Kalen closes the door behind him.
"So then, Led, tell me about your battle with the swordfish ..."
(http://img518.imageshack.us/img518/4899/fishgutlovestehcaptainho9.jpg)
[ March 09, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
quote:
Originally posted by Xotes:
<STRONG>Whoa, whoa, whoa! Kalen and Fishgut?! Wowza's... I don't really mind it though.</STRONG>
Well, she did lose an eye, so maybe she can't quite see how ugly he is, eh? hehe
I've got another big update coming up tonight, and I believe we'll, as a forum crew, need to make some plans for the future. Stay tuned.
Wahahahahaha GREAT!
Ever so hilarious!
BTW.. human waste? Don't you mean dwarven
[ March 09, 2008: Message edited by: martinuzz ]
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!"
(http://img301.imageshack.us/img301/1996/nativesdy4.jpg)
(http://img72.imageshack.us/img72/3092/lolnativesft7.png)
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.
(http://img222.imageshack.us/img222/9646/firingatimigrantgt1.jpg)
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.
(http://img134.imageshack.us/img134/9240/hitimmigrantat1.jpg)
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.
(http://img510.imageshack.us/img510/6539/pwnedrowwa7.jpg)
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.
(http://img107.imageshack.us/img107/8017/oopscatoz3.jpg)
"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.
(http://img530.imageshack.us/img530/93/lostapetnj7.jpg)
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 ]
(http://img221.imageshack.us/img221/3946/villager2bh3.jpg)
Rigoth is a marksman, Inod is a carpenter: Let me know what you think we should do, crewmen!
quote:
Originally posted by martinuzz:BTW.. human waste? Don't you mean dwarven
err, oops, fixed ^_^ let's just pretend that never happened ...
As for the fortress, I'm going to wait for a bit and see if we can get some peoples opinions on what to do with these two little bastards who snuck on board. Either we can have ourselves two new crewman, or ONE new crewman, or none, it doesn't matter to me. It's up to you guys.
**Edit, are these movie links I'm adding working for you guys? I sent one to a friend and he said it crashed, but he's using some weird browser so I can't tell, they work for me though.
[ March 09, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
My vote is slave labor for the 2 natives. Better yet, how bout only letting one stay. Make em fight for it!
Retro
quote:
Originally posted by Retro42:
<STRONG>Still bedridden?!? Ouch. At least I help save the day "figuratively".My vote is slave labor for the 2 natives. Better yet, how bout only letting one stay. Make em fight for it!
Retro</STRONG>
I'd just be glad Prof is alive if I were you, I wasn't exaggerating how close to death he was when Duncana finally got him some damn water. We're talking a few seconds here, it was tense!
Also, I love the idea about letting them earn their freedom through a fight. We've still got a wolf and some macaques caged, we could have some monkey fights on the deck. Don't forget about the plank though :P
[ March 09, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
Hmmm....I forgot about the plank. I'm on the fence here, what about a rite of passage? Send them both into the wild to kill some undead fish. Whoever lives longer is our new deckhand. The loser is forced to walk the plank or left stranded on an island.
Retro
quote:
(http://img518.imageshack.us/img518/4899/fishgutlovestehcaptainho9.jpg)
BWAHAHAHAHAA! Well I'll be a sea monkey's uncle, Led's a real pirate, plundering booty and all!
Ne'er thought that he'd live up to much more than just the fishboy on this ship. I guess picking a food-related profession is a good tactic, especially with a little swordplay thrown in to the mix.
I say use the natives as training dummies, and feed the scraps to the fish. If one manages to beat a crewmember in battle, he can stay.
[ March 10, 2008: Message edited by: Kagus ]
quote:
Originally posted by Kagus:
<STRONG>BWAHAHAHAHAA! Well I'll be a sea monkey's uncle, Led's a real pirate, plundering booty and all!
Ne'er thought that he'd live up to much more than just the fishboy on this ship. I guess picking a food-related profession is a good tactic, especially with a little swordplay thrown in to the mix.
I say use the natives as training dummies, and feed the scraps to the fish. If one manages to beat a crewmember in battle, he can stay.</STRONG>
I was really surprised by how well he handled the swordfish, I'd faced one before during the construction of the ship, and, well, let's just say that it had quite a looooooong name by the time a group of 6 or so guys managed to take it down, he took that thing out with just a bare scratch on the thumb. I'm tellin' you, he's going places.
Okay so, we have many votes for combat-related testing.
Should one or both of them survive, I suppose we can take on a new forum crew member, but, I'll have to see, they might both die and I don't want to offer a spot prematurely =/
I'm sure Kalen can find some way or another to adequately put them to a dangerous test =)
Anyways, the story is rockin, and I again say TRIAL BY FIRE!!!!!!
[ March 10, 2008: Message edited by: Kaelem Gaen ]
[ March 10, 2008: Message edited by: Xotes ]
1059, Late spring, Second or third of Felsite? Hell i don't know and i really don't care anymore!
I don't know what Kalen sees in that Led... and i don't mean her remaining eye is going blind. She doesn't realize how important i am here! I'd doubt if half of these fools could even read a stock report letalone record one! No im not the best fighter, or the best cook, or the best looking, but i sure as hell keep this ship in order. Without me, this ship would be in complete anarchy! How can Kalen not realize this? Why wont she look at me the way she looks at Led... Maybe if Led was out of the picture... No, thats crazy, i could never..
I'm gonna try this, soon as I see how it all turns out. Then I can learn.
quote:The ship is being held above the water with a pillar, if that's what you mean.
Originally posted by Haven:
<STRONG>Wooo, Pirates! Didn't think you could do that in this game...</STRONG>
quote:
Originally posted by Fenrir:
<STRONG>The ship is being held above the water with a pillar, if that's what you mean.</STRONG>
Whats this blasphemy of our ship needing a pillar to support itself? We all know its just physically manifested pirate awesomeness holding the boat up...
quote:
Originally posted by ColonelTEE3:
<STRONG>Whats this blasphemy of our ship needing a pillar to support itself? We all know its just physically manifested pirate awesomeness holding the boat up...</STRONG>
Nevermind him, he's been brain damaged, he thinks the world is made of dwarven cheese and kobolds are just furry gnomes!
New updates coming momentarily, I promise, with a heavy, heavy heart.
[ March 11, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
"Captain, I'd like to resign."
Kalen turned to see her first mate looking dejected and pitiful before her.
"Request denied," she states calmly, turning back to her desk.
"Captain, just give Fishgut my bunk and have him look after you, the two of you are," he shudders, "close now, anyway. I'd perhaps be a good carpenter, or fisherman."
Kalen turns to him and approaches him swiftly, causing Skipper to wince in anticipation of a blow.
She reaches up and puts her scarred hand upon his shoulder, saying, suprisingly softly, "Skipper ... you've not been a pirate long. It is quite common for us to form bonds, and relationships while at sea ... but once we're back on land, everything changes. Our whole world is confined to this floating casket, and everyone gets lonely. We must all become friends, and some of us even lovers, but these things rarely last. If you and I ...", she says, as his eyes light up, "were ever to become lovers", Skippers shoulder trembles under her hand, "I could not have you as my first mate. I need someone I can trust, someone who can be impartial. I need you as you are."
Skipper lowers his eyes. "Please captain, let me be a carpenter or fisherman."
Kalen suddenly takes her hand off his shoulder and bashes him across the face, knocking him into the wall.
"NO!" She asserts. "You are my first mate, and the only way you're getting out of it is in an ALDER BOX. However ... since you are so KEEN to be a carpenter, why don't you go make a casket. It will remind you of the only path you have to leaving my servitude on this ship."
Skipper leaves, failing to make eye contact, his face red and purple and blue, his tongue clenched tightly in his teeth.
(http://img156.imageshack.us/img156/2864/skipperforshadowingcasklp7.jpg)
On his way below decks, Beardless Bob passes him and notices his drooped shoulders and stinging jaw. "Aharr!" he says, chuckling, "Te' cappin's given ye some lovin' aft'r all, eh?" Bob slaps him on the back, trying to comfort the dejected pirate. "Cheer up, lad! Things'r goin' fine, eh? We've got us a fine crew of mates, what could possibly go wrong!"
15th Malachite, Mid-Summer, 1059:
(http://img223.imageshack.us/img223/706/horatiowalksagainyo7.jpg)
Horatio stumbles out of his chambers, his legs weak and his head still muddled, but his army properly healed. While heading over next door to check on the still ailing professor, Horatio notes the oil lamps lining the bunks are not rocking with the ocean waves ... they must not be at sea yet.
The Professor greets him warmly as he enters the room. "Why haven't we left?" Horatio asks, offering Professor some water.
"We've taken on some ... stow aways. Two of the natives have come aboard."
Horatio looks confused, shaking his head, when he hears a screeching come from out the door. Rushing out, he's nearly bowled over by what he can only assume is one of the natives, his tattoo'd body nearly naked. He's being dragged along, grasping onto the ears of a ... WOLF?
Horatio draws his blade and prepares to walk out to kill one or both of them, but Jaina comes up behind him and stops him. "It's okay! The wolf is tame ... we recieved him in trade with the merchants and Kalen did not see fit to keep him in a cage. "
Horatio sheathes his blade and turns to hug Jaina. "Thank you ... for the food and the water. It's been a long time since I've been able to walk the ship, and I'd forgotten about them. Are we still on the same island?"
"Aye, one of the villagers grappling hooks has tangled up the wheel at the helm, and we've had our hands full with the natives. It's good that you're awake now, though, you'll get to watch the fight."
Horatio looked confused, "What fight?"
"Kalen is going to have the villagers try and prove that they are capable of fighting, if they should fail, they will die. If not, we've got some new deck hands."
"Great, as if the ship wasn't crowded enough ..." He responded, mildly annoyed.
"C'mon mate, they'll more than likely be shark food by the dawn, let's go watch the fight!"
Jaina helped the weakened swordsman up onto the deck of the ship where he is greeted with a hearty cheer and some goodnatured jabs. "Who te' 'ell are ye, mate?" Q-Tip says, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. "You not welcome here!" Sigurd roars, ruffling his trussed beard. "Aye, aye," Horatio laughs, "What's all this about a fight then?"
"Just in time!" Kalen says, striding out of her room, Skipper in towe, looking bedraggled and depressed.
"What's got his plank in a rut?" Horatio whispers to Jaina. "Cap's taken a liking to Fishgut," she responds, quietly. Horatio looks shocked, but considers that on such cramped quarters, he's seen stranger bedfellows.
"INOD!" Kalen yells, her authoritative voice defying the language barrier.
The tattoo'd native meekly walks up to her, a wary look on his face.
"Jaina, tell him what he's to do," Kalen ordered, a beautiful looking wooden sword draped over her shoulder.
Jaina babbled something haltingly, leaving a confused look on Inod's face. He looks back to Kalen and shrugs, obviously not understanding.
"Oh hell," the captain curses, tossing him the sword. Inod deftly reaches out and grabs it by the hilt and gives it a few agile swings, obviously familiar with the weapon at least. "There we go, swords speak EVERY language!" Kalen bursts out illiciting much laughter.
She points at Inod's chest, then turns, and points up the stairs leading to the sparring deck. "You, go, now."
Inod still looks confused as he trudges up the stairs. He emerges through the heavy microcline hatch cover onto the deck to see 3 cages around him. The hatch swiftly closes behind him with a thud, and a clanking of a latch. He turns and tries to re-open it, but it won't budge. Turning back around, he looks at the cages, screaming and whooping rhesus macaques banging on the bars.
Suddenly, the bars drop, and the monkeys are free.
(http://img339.imageshack.us/img339/4498/inodpreparesforbattlexf4.jpg)
Inod senses the monkeys are about to pounce and deftly flips the sword from hand to hand, preparing, his eyes keen. Whoops and hollers come down to him from the crows nest, nearly the entire crew stuffed up in the box leaning over the edge, mugs of grog swinging as they cheer him on. 'No', he thinks, 'probably cheering the monkeys on ...'.
Knowing that he's being judged on his actions, Inod pounces on the closest of the monkeys, his taught muscles carrying him swiftly over the deck.
To the raucous guffaws of the foreign crew above him, he dodges the monkeys bites and claws easily, spinning on his heels to deliver a crushing blow to the simian torso sending it hurtling over the edge of the ship.
(http://img253.imageshack.us/img253/282/knocksmonkeyoffedgeofshfp2.jpg)
Pausing momentarily to revel in the battle, he watches as the screetching macaque flails at the water, sinking quickly in the bay.
(http://img134.imageshack.us/img134/4391/monkeydrownka3.jpg)
Turning quickly, he sprints across at the next macaque, grasping the wooden blade in both hands like an axe and swinging it into the gut of the prancing monkey. It stumbles backwards, nauseated, confused, and defeated.
(http://img143.imageshack.us/img143/8636/monkeypwnedgt3.jpg)
Inod, barely giving it a glance, delivers a swift kick to it's head, sending it overboard as well.
(http://img187.imageshack.us/img187/8903/flyingmonkey2da7.jpg)
The crew on the crows nest chants and hoots, many nodding approvingly. Kalen, though impressed, has to taunt, "STOP that you lug, we can use their bones!" The crew laughs, slapping her on the back, Beardless Bob chuckling, "Maybe we can use HIS bones!"
Inod is grappling with the final macaque, dodging it's viscious bites, when he hears the laughter from up above. His face reddens as he knocks the monkey aside, rolling to his feet, sword swinging about him, a rage spreading across his face at the thought of being taunted by such crude foreigners.
(http://img441.imageshack.us/img441/4253/inodmartialgp0.jpg)
His tattoo'd sweaty body glistening in the sun, he grabs the monkey by the scruff of the neck, delivering a series of swift strikes to it's extremities and skull, knocking it out. He looks up to the crows nest as the men peer down from above, grog spilling out of their weaving mugs. Locking eyes with Kalen, he shoves the full length of his blade down the unconscious macaques throat, impaling it.
Tossing both the monkey and the sword aside, Inod proudly strikes a menacing pose on the deck, his body entirely untouched and unwounded by his opponents, grunting up at the cheering crews, their heads bobbing up and down as the cheer at the battle.
Sssssssssssssssssssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhthwp!
The crew suddenly stop cheering, some of them dropping their mugs from the crows nest. Inod looks at them confused for a moment before noticing a strange feeling rising from his leg. He looks down to see an iron bolt embedded in calf.
(http://img146.imageshack.us/img146/4951/inodambushedfightingjc7.jpg)
Inod hears one of the strange dwarves yell something piercing which causes the rest of them to scurry down the mast ladders, concerned and determined looks on their faces.
A second iron bolt flies out, striking his lower right arm, flying cleanly through the wound. The confused look on his face turns back up to the scurrying crew a moment before collapsing to the deck, unconscious and bleeding.
If he could properly speak dwarven, he would've been terrified. Imp was shouting, "GOBLINS!"
[ March 11, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
[ March 11, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
Still 15th Malachite, Mid-Summer, 1059:
Kalen barks orders at the crew as the scamper out of the crows nest.
"Imp, hold them off while we get below," she says, pausing to turn to him, "When you run out of bolts, come down, and hand your crossbow to the other villager."
"Aye ... cap?" Imp says, confused, before shrugging it off in favor of the battle ahead.
A raiding party is swiftly approaching their ship, boarding planks strapped over their shoulders.
(http://img212.imageshack.us/img212/1531/raidingpartyxi4.jpg)
Another group was gathering below the ship, weilding heavy hammers and gleaming spears, waiting for their marksmen to bring boarding planks.
Imp knocks a bolt and sets his crossbow on the edge of the crows nest, carefully adjusting his carp-bone rangefinder.
(http://img152.imageshack.us/img152/4381/impfiringcn8.jpg)
He wishes Kalen would've let Bob stay upon the nest with him. During Bob's training, they'd become close friends, teaching each other as Bob nearly surpassed his mentors skills. Together, they'd be able to nearly wipe this whole party out. Alone, Imp could merely hold them at bay while the captain thought of something.
Clank, clank, clank, his shots rang out rapid fire as his trained hands swiftly worked the bow, folding back the lock, slinging a bolt, cranking the handle and loosing into the crowd gathering close below.
His first shot pierces the chest of a goblin, dropping it to the ground immediately.
(http://img253.imageshack.us/img253/4475/impkillsonelh5.jpg)
Another bolt slices down, piercing the top of a goblins skull, sending it wobbling off into the sand.
(http://img508.imageshack.us/img508/3264/boomheadshotwd4.jpg)
Imp continues rattling off shots until his quiver is empty. He's wounded 3 and killed one, but another group is quickly approaching. He scampers down the mast ladders, reluctantly following Kalen's orders.
As he gets on deck and aproaches the hatch, he see's it open and the second villager is shoved out on deck. Recalling his instructions, he gives the poor chap a look of pity after reluctantly placing his crossbow into his tatto'd hands.
"Good luck mate," comes the cry as Imp disappears below decks, the hatch locking behind him.
Rigoth looks around, confused. He see's a pile of bolts sitting at the edge of the deck near a ballista and walks over to grab some of them, filling his quiver. He looks up, and is horrified.
Sssssssssthunk, thunk, t-t-t-thunk, multiple arrows sticking to the hull of the ship, barely missing him.
"AIAIA!" He shouts, instinctively hiding behind the ballista. He eyes the doors, all of them locked. He grits his teeth and prepares to do what sure he is being forced into.
Hopping up onto the ballista like a monkey, he crouches, shouldering the crossbow, and begins firing.
(http://img291.imageshack.us/img291/5859/rigothbattleif9.jpg)
Bolts whizzing by his head, he calmly continues knocking and firing, humming a song his mother had sung to him in their hut before the kobolds had taken her. He imagines a kobold head on each of the goblins, his fingers tightening around the crossbow.
The moment he starts to see them as kobolds, his aim improves, and he begins perforating the gathering crowds.
(http://img174.imageshack.us/img174/2793/1rigothcomboty7.jpg)
Not pausing to revel in his good aim, he reaches for another pile of bolts at his feet. While leaning over to reload, a bolt slices through his left foot, tearing out a chunk of flesh. He tumbles off the ballista, crawling over to the bolts, continuing to fire.
Another bolt slams into his right arm, causing him to drop the crossbow. Rigoth looks up into the clear sky, whispering a tribal prayer to his mother. Another bolt hits him in the left arm while he falls onto his knees, looking skyward.
(http://img156.imageshack.us/img156/8396/rigothpassedoutpl6.jpg)
The blood pours from his wounds onto the deck as his vision drains, the sky darkening and going black. As he slumps forward, collapsing towards the deck, another bolt screams out, slicing through his heart.
(http://img156.imageshack.us/img156/6072/rigothgotdeadhm5.jpg)
***
"GRAB YOUR SWORDS GRAB WHATEVER YOU CAN!" Kalen barks out below decks, hanging onto the ladder above. The crew are strapping on armor and forming up beside her while she listens intently, her ear snug against the hatch.
"He's dead ..." she says, noting the resounding quietness. Jaina looks horrified, the rest of the crew grim in their resolve.
"Where th' bloody 'ell did they come from?" Horatio asks, unsheathing his blade while Fishgut follows suit, coming up from the weapon stockpile.
"We've been laid up here too FUCKING long," Kalen glowers hard at Skipper, a dead look in his eyes as he grips his spear.
"There's too many cap, we don't stand a chance!"
Kalen rounds on Skipper, preparing to clobber him again. His cheek is still puffed out and his eye swollen, and she needs him; she needs ALL of them for the coming fight. She can't let on that he is right, because she needs her crew to be unwavering in battle.
"Bah!", she snorts, laughing, "They're just some mangy goblins, We're PIRATES! Besides, we can't stay down here forever, The Professor will starve and that poor native up their will be eaten alive, I'm sure. Now, Fishgut, Skipper, Horatio, Duncana, Sigurd, Imp, and you, you crazy son of a bitch," She slaps Beardless Bob on the shoulder while he grins at her and tosses his bag of gunpowder nervously in his hands, "I NEED you lads. Now, let's be ready, for this battle will be one to remember. We'll all be fine swimmers once we've waded through the blood we're about to spill!"
THUD
"Alright boys, they've planked us. We've no choice. On my mark ..."
She unbolts the hatch, pausing a moment, never looking back to her men, not even Fishgut.
"CHAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAARGE!"
[ March 11, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
Pity the lad will most likely die. Would've made a fine shipmate.
Or at least good cannon fodder...
The crew burst onto the deck in a hail of crossbow fire, bolts slicing the air around their heads as they head for the ramp.
(http://img512.imageshack.us/img512/4715/gathertochargeub8.jpg)
Kalen orders her crew to shore, flinging Rigoth's bloody corpse off the ballista before loosing an arrow into the now reinforced goblin crew.
(http://img143.imageshack.us/img143/3793/fiiiiiiiiiiiiiresk5.jpg)
The crew steps out onto the plank, cheering and roaring at the sight of the pitiful goblin rent asunder and pinned to the clay cliff wall behind him, his green toes wiggling and dripping in blood.
Fishgut is the first off the plank, Sigurd and Q-Tip behind him. He runs up to a goblin and feints to stab at the stomach before bringing up the pommel of his sword to crush the goblins face in. Sigurd storms past him, axe held high, a viking chant upon his frothing lips as the glory of battle overtakes him.
Q-tip steps off lightly and springs towards a goblin crossbowman, knocking his crossbow swiftly into the ocean. The green sniveling fool stands before her, confused, before she turns his face inside out with a blow to the head, bits of brain and blood spraying up into the air, carried aloft on the roars of the crew.
(http://img143.imageshack.us/img143/2513/chaaaaaaaargekm4.jpg)
The sounds of battle ring out as goblin after goblin are cut down, their already wounded bodies being split in twain, blood splattering up on the cliff wall like some bizarre tribal cave painting. Sigurd, his axe drenched in blood, watches as a goblin charges at him, catching him off balance, until a crossbow screams down from the heavens and strikes the goblin clean through the eye like a lightning bolt.
Imp has regained his crossbow and is standing on the mast, firing carefully amongst his assembled crew, unleashing a deadly fury of sharpened cat bones.
The three remaining pitiful goblins retreat for a stairway in the nearby cliff, withering away from the hail of ballista fire and bolts and the rowdy pirates covered in blood but entirely unhurt.
(http://img524.imageshack.us/img524/1958/hailoffireya1.jpg)
Beardless Bob, his eyes crazed with the joy of battle, runs past his comrades to catch them as they flee, unwilling to let any of them escape alive. "AAyeee I'll blow ye all te 'ell you scurvy elf rats!" he curses, peeling off from the group.
His blade sticks into the back of one of the goblins and it lets out a piercing howl into the sky, the sun setting over his shoulders. As Sigurd and the crew race to follow, they see something glinting behind Beardless Bob's shoulders, but cannot quite make it out. Bob pulls back his blade, letting a mist of blood spurt up into the air, obscuring their vision. Wiping wretched goblin blood from their eyes and out of their beards, the crew prepares to finish the battle, when Imp suddenly yells down from above, his voice absolutely tortured, shocking the crew who are handily winning the battle ... or so they think.
"BOB!!! NO!! AAAAAAAAAAMBUUUUUUUUUUUUSH!" Imp's tortured cry rings out as the mist of blood falls around them, revealing a swarming mass of goblins, heavy axes swaying in the air, swiftly enveloping their group.
(http://img223.imageshack.us/img223/4429/itsatrapnd5.jpg)
"IT'S A TRAP!" Kalen shouts, too late, rushing for more ballista bolts. Sigurd's roar erupts, drowning out the sound of battle with an echo reaching from deep within his mountain home of a chest.
Kalen watches in horror as she loses sight of them, covered by charging goblins. Duncana, Fishgut, Horatio, Jaina, Sigurd, Q-Tip, Skipper, and Beardless Bob disappearing under the wave of goblins. Kalen holds her fire, she couldn't fire into the tumbling ball of flesh rolling on the beaches, without hitting her crew. She watches in horror, her eye peeled open, as spurts of blood and guts fly up out of the mess, severed limbs spinning into the waves, bouncing off the side of her ship.
Roars, clanks, slices, and a massive thud ring out. Kalen is rocked back off of the ballista, feeling as though the force of the very fight itself had pushed her back, stunned. She grabs her hammer and weaves out across the deck, stepping over goblin corpses to join her crew in what she hopes will not be certain death.
When Kalen reaches the battle, she finds her crew is actually winning! Her eye gets a twinkle as she wades in, collapsing a goblins skull casually while singing out her crews names. "Let's at them, lads!" She cries out, shortly joined by the men as they slaughter the the goblins.
Kalen pauses, taking stock of her crew. She is shocked. Covered in goblin blood, entrails draping their shoulders and bits of brain and goblin teeth sticking to their beards, the crew are finishing off the last of the first ambush as Sigurd heads up the steps onto the overlooking cliff. None of them appear to be wounded ... 'Unfathomable ...' she ponders, looking at the mess of goblins. A spot in the center of the carnage shows the bodies of at least 6 goblins, their corpses nearly unrecognizable, punctured with bolts and sliced into pieces, blackened and bloody. 'Blackened?' She ponders, nearly calling off her men, when she sees Sigurd disappear over the lip of the cliff, Horatio fast behind him.
"ANOTHER AMBUSH!" Imp cries out, his voice weary, arms tired, and quiver nearly depleted.
Kalen, horrified, glances up at the cliff wall, and she can make out the glint of steel, and multiple goblins, but cannot see her crew. Horatio hangs on the edge of the cliff, unable to progress further, his feet wrapped around the ladder. Q-Tip is holding his ankles as he draws his blade back and begins swinging.
"SIGURD!" Imp yells out, loosing another bolt.
Above the cliffs edge, Sigurd is grinning wide, his braided beard swinging. He imagines valhalla, his parents, carved out of granite, their tombs closed, laying next to an open one. Sigurd eagerly wades into the goblins, praying to join them.
(http://img100.imageshack.us/img100/1685/sigurdchargesawholegroudy8.jpg)
(http://img296.imageshack.us/img296/5796/sigurdsfoesgh0.jpg)
To be continued ... in a few seconds =)
[ March 11, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
Horatio tries to swipe at one of the goblin's ankles from his precarious perch on the ladder, losing sight of Sigurd in the mess of goblins. He loses his grip, sliding down the ladder, unable to see. Blood spurts out over the edge of the cliff, limbs flying, bits of hair and entrails spinning past him.
A shove comes from below and he see's Kalen at his feet, pushing hard.
"GET UP THERE YOU OAF! We've got to get to Sigurd before they slice him to pieces!"
Horatio grunts, and crawls up the edge, grabbing Q-Tip and Kalen by the hand and hoisting them up behind him at once. The three stumble up, and turn to face their enemies, outnumbered.
Or ... not.
(http://img201.imageshack.us/img201/5816/sigurdpwnagehf2.jpg)
One goblin is flying through the air ... no, make that HALF of one goblin is flying through the air, and the blood drenched viking is swinging his axe at another, the last remaining alive, his lower legs dismembered, kneeling in the grass. His head flies off into the sky as Sigurd roars, his axe screaming through the air, trailing streams of blood in it's wake.
"Holy blood god ..." Kalen gasps, witnessing the death. The viking is wiping his blade off, turning towards them.
"Sigurd win." He grunts, no grin on his face.
"Uh, Sigurd, let's get you below decks ... you're hurt." Horatio walks towards him before Sigurd briskly waves him off.
"Sigurd not hurt, pathetic goblins not stand chance!"
"Sigurd ... " Kalen cautions, stepping close. "You've got a sword sticking out of you."
Sigurd looks down to see that a sword is INDEED sticking out of him, jutting out from his lower left side.
(http://img182.imageshack.us/img182/9100/sigurdhurtagainxd8.jpg)
Kalen and Horatio step up to care for him but the viking laughs them off, "Me fall on sword, goblins not do that!" Sigurd chuckles before plucking the blade out with his mighty meat paw and hurling it into the ocean.
He grabs Horatio and Kalen around the shoulders, not to lean on them, but to hold them close while he whispers a viking prayer.
The trio head down the ladder to witness the carnage below.
(http://img182.imageshack.us/img182/1733/carnagehq4.jpg)
Goblin corpses are strewn everywhere. Severed limbs and entrails litter the beach, the very sea turning red as the soil sops up the blood and deposits it into the drifts.
Kalen beams at her men, ordering them to assemble so she can give them a deserving victory speech before preparing to loot the bodies in favor of filling their treasure hold.
She beings to count her crew; Duncana, Sigurd, Q-Tip, Skipper, Fishgut, Horatio, Jaina ...
Kalen, distracted, looks up to see Imp running down the plank, bare handed. "NO!" he shouts, running towards them wildly, tripping over goblin bodies.
"Ah fuck, another ambush?!?" Kalen shouts, turning around, hammer at the ready.
Seeing nothing, she turns back, Imp running up closer, screaming, "NO, NO, NO!" as he crawls towards them and the carnage around them. As he grows closer ... he can see tears in his eyes ...
'What the bloody ...' she ponders, as he begins digging in the pile of 6 goblins at the center of the mess. She walks over to him, confused, her heart sinking at the shrill wail in his voice. 'He's acting as though we've ...' she begins to think, until she sees him flop over the corpse of a goblin. It's face is burned off. 'The blackened corpses ...' she thinks, horrified, as he pulls more and more bloody, burned, singed, and incinerated goblins off the pile.
Her eye peels back as Imp wails, pulling off another corpse. A hand ... no, a blasted chunk of flesh ... with some traces of pig skin and a small string. She watches in horror as Imp reaches up and begins rubbing a blackened rock.
No. Not a rock. Kalen leans close, her face scrunching and her eye welling up as he wipes soot off.
She's met with a grinning, smooth, scorched, beardless face, smiling back at her.
(http://img516.imageshack.us/img516/1733/bobscorpsevy7.jpg)
"NOOOOOOOOOOO!" Imp cries out again, his tears overflowing his beard and dripping into the blood, blackened, scorched crater in the sand.
Kalen drops her arm on his shoulder, "I'm so sor--" she begins, before Imp stands up quickly, grabbing one of the goblins swords and pressing it to her throat in a flash.
"YOU!" he yells out, marching her towards the sea front as the crew hold their breaths behind them.
(http://img510.imageshack.us/img510/8358/impissupermadfixne0.jpg)
"Whoa lad!" Kalen says, her voice choked and her head cocked back from the blade.
"You did this!" Imp shouts, furious. "Nay," Kalen responds, only a slighty waver in her voice, "He sacrificed himself for us, we'd all likely died if it weren't for him cooking off that bag o' powder just then ..." she steps back, her heels meeting the edge of the sand.
"We'd never have been in this situation if it weren't for you!" Imp shouts back, a single drop of blood slowly sliding down the edge of the blade.
"If you'd let me and Bob stay on the crow's nest instead of letting that PATHETIC", he spits into her beard, "fucking villager 'Test himself' against these goblins, Bob might still be alive! Rigoth had no chance and you knew it!"
"And what now?" Kalen asks, glaring at him. "You'll behead your captain and leave your crew stranded on an island while another army surely marches to kill you all? What good will that do? I have to live with this," she chokes, her voice parched, her arm tingling from the bite of the shark that took her former crew.
Imp lowers the blade, his eyes still locked on her remaining one. He turns his back slowly, dropping the blade into the sand before marching back aboard the ship, sobbing.
(http://img142.imageshack.us/img142/3445/impsuperpissedva8.jpg)
The crew stand silent, stunned. Kalen straightens herself up and wipes her beard. "Grab his body," she says, softly, "and any weapons you see. Skipper, fix the helm, we've only hours before more are on us. Let's not tarry."
The Duncana and Jaina solemnly lift Bob's corpse and carry it gently aboard the ship. Duncana looks up as she carry's the burned corpse to see Imp glaring down at them, tears in his eyes, from the crow's nest.
***
1st, Limestone, Autumn, 1059:
The crew are gathered on the deck. The plank is up, the helm is fixed, and they've left the dock at last. They've changed from their bloody garments and are standing before the main mast, waiting for Kalen to speak.
(http://img262.imageshack.us/img262/4940/bobcasketti2.jpg)
Skippers knee's tremble as he looks down upon the casket. His fingers ache, remembering crafting the thing, longing to be placed inside it, never imagining that it would be used so soon, and for one so full of life and hope, while he lived on, in despair.
"This casket," Kalen begins, her back to the crew, "will remain here always, a constant reminder to you." She waves her hands around the ship. "Beardless Bob made this ship a warship. He gave us a fighting chance against the natives, he saved The Professor and Horatio from a certain horrible death by crafting a still, and he sacrificed his life so that all of us may live."
Kalen turns, her eye clear, her voice strong. "Beardless Bob was the FIRST pirate on this ship. We were all maggots before, even me," she says loudly, proud. "When he gave himself for us, he made us pirates." She pauses, looking at them harshly.
"HE MADE US PIRATES!" she shouts as loud as she can, her voice echoing off the icy waves curling under and around their ship.
"HE MADE US PIRATES!" the crew yell back, many salty tearstained eyes looking up at her.
"We set out for plunder and money," Kalen continues, standing before the casket.
Kalen beckons Boucher over, the grogmistress sobbing, a wreath of whip vines and prickleberries in her hands. She gently set's them on the casket, sobbing, reaching down to caress it softly.
Boucher stands up, and Kalen stands behind her, looking over her shaking shoulder at the crew. She touches her softly, and whispers, "Now, lass, let's see him off proper."
Boucher reaches into her pigtail dress and pulls out a tiny pouch, similar to the one Bob was constantly playing with. It contains a small amount of gunpowder, his most precious gift, to keep them together always.
"We are no longer in search of plunder and money!" Kalen shouts out as Boucher slowly strides to the front of the ship, standing up at the bow, her head low. She opens the pouch while Kalen continues, "We've got only one mission on these high sea's now." Boucher lifts the pouch up, the wind licking at the string untied around its neck.
As Boucher sobs, tipping the sack over, letting the wind pick up the gunpowder and swirl it about above their heads, swishing between the sails and masts, jib lines and spindles, Kalen shouts, "WE'RE AFTER REVENGE, LADS!"
The crew cheer, though it is somewhat half hearted. The sun is setting, and the dreaded island they are leaving is a dark silhouette behind them.
Imp, sitting in the crows nest, his back to the wall, crossbow across his lap, a bolt in his fingers, hears the cheer. "Revenge, indeed," he whispers, twirling the bolt.
[ March 12, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
Rest in Peace Beardless Bob *throws a handful of gunpowder in with him in the casket*
But I did go out with a bang!
Permission to board again when an opportunity (or my corpse) rises?
I need to find that sturgeon bone necklace... Wrapped in a few fish guts, it should make a fitting send off to the lad. Drink hail to Beardless Bob! A finer dwarf there ne'er was!
Retro
quote:
Originally posted by martinuzz:
<STRONG>Ahhh. Darkness at last!
Wait... No...Did you.. did you place my coffin... out on the deck?
In the blight of the hated sun?
NOOOOOO!!!! ARRGH!! I...WILL...AVENGE!But I did go out with a bang!
Permission to board again when an opportunity (or my corpse) rises?</STRONG>
Fear not, my beardless mate, ye lay entombed in the long dark shadow of the crows nest where ye and imp spread death by bolt for so long 'ere yer passing. The sail and the masts and the bow of the ship ensure that in this one spot on the deck, the sun never lights. Darkness is yours.
[ March 12, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
Jaina raises a mug of ale in his memory.
As Kalen ended the memorial for their beloved passed mate, some of the crew solemnly headed for the galley to raise grog for their fallen comrade.
Kalen grabs Jaina's shoulder as she walks by.
"Do you ...", she begins, haltingly, "think Bob's death was my fault?"
"No cap," Jaina responds, sincerely, offering a weak smile. "Bob gave himself, nobody, not even you, could've forced him to do that, and the situation could've turned much worse. Rigoth and ... what was the other ones name?"
"I don't know ..." Kalen said, shrugging, "Ahh well, let us prepare to continue the journey in search of reven--"
"GYEAAAHHH!" came a tortured wail singing down onto them from above the captains quarters. Kalen and Jaina locked eyes, their jaws dropping. "Oh ... oh hell!" Kalen said, turning her eyes up to the sparring area, seeing a trickle of blood pouring down over the stairs. "He's ... alive?"
Jaina took off at a sprint, vaulting up the stairs.
(http://img519.imageshack.us/img519/2605/jainarecoversos8.jpg)
Kalen watched as she sprinted past, the tattoo'd bloody native in her arms, recently passed out again, vomit on his lips.
"Will he make it?" Kalen asked, nonplussed.
"Uh ... we'll see!" Jaina panted, dropping below decks.
Jaina heads down to the storage deck, Skipper having set up a makeshift bed for the wounded immigrant. On her way down, she passes Duncana, still wearing her armor and covered in blood, a tortured look on her face.
Jaina suddenly gasps. In the heat of battle, the long and drawn out affair lasting nearly 2 days fighting wave after wave of goblins, not only had they forgotten about Inod ... they'd neglected Duncana's beloved Professor!
(http://img152.imageshack.us/img152/1101/pissedprofgv6.jpg)
By the time Jaina is halfway down to the brig, Duncana, sprinting as fast as she can, has already over taken her, heading towards The Professors bunk.
Duncana bursts into the room, drips of water running down her arms, tortured to see The Professor writhing in agony on the bed once again. 'How will he ever forgive me?' she begins to ask herself before locking up the thoughts. She sets her teeth as she settles in to care for him, believing whole heartedly that he would not survive. Illness and dispair were written across his face, insanity bubbling up from deep within him.
As the water splashes across his lips and down his throat, his eyes shoot open and lock onto her. Duncana gasps ... 'perhaps he will survive after all', she thinks. 'No, no, he's lost it ...'
Much to her suprise, The Professor manages a smile. He coughs lightly, eyes becoming clear.
"How'd the fight go?" he rasps, trying to show strength.
"Good ... good," Duncana lies to him, unwilling to unsettle his disturbed mind with news of the fate of Bob, one of the professors only friends and someone he had trained in many ways.
"Ugh," he grunts, twisting uncomfortably on the bed before looking back to Duncana, "My dear," he rasps, his eyes twinkling, "Could ye bring me some mackerel? I'm could go for a wee bite ..." he understates, drastically.
Duncana laughs, hugging him. She is sure he will survive. She skips out of the room to grab some food, passing through the galley, hearing the songs the crew are singing for their beloved Bob.
As the sun sets on the ship, Duncana sits with her lover on his sickbed, telling him ... part of the story of the battle with the goblins. The rest, he will have to find out soon enough.
(http://img135.imageshack.us/img135/4383/duncanasavedhimqz4.jpg)
The Bellsmaw drifts in the open ocean, waves pushing her along, rocking gently, sounds of singing from the galley, praise of Bob's courage, Bouchers gentle sobs and Inod's unconscious moaning drift up into the cool night air as the crew settles back into their beloved ship, tired, but alive.
The Dread Ship Bellsmaw is at sea.
Kalen is pacing in the cargo hold, her arms crossed, one eye glaring down at the troubled villager. His wounds are festering, both arms gangrenous and stinking of disease.
Jaina is attempting to comfort him. "We need him ... we've only 11 if he passes ...", she says, looking up to Kalen.
"He's already dead, mate, look at his face."
(http://img155.imageshack.us/img155/2264/inodmelonchollywh0.jpg)
Jaina and Kalen head up to the galley. "This will run it's course," Kalen says, Jaina offering a nod. "You okay?" Kalen asks, feigning concern.
"Aye cap, to be honest, we don't need him. I just thought you wanted him aboard. I'd throw him off the plank if I were you."
Kalen laughed, grabbing Jaina around the shoulder and taking her across the deck for some well deserved grog. The two hearty dwarven ladies listen quietly in the rocking ship to the sounds of crewmembers scurrying above deck, and the horrid moans coming from below.
A thud rings up, and another cry, dwindling off into the ocean horizon.
"There. It is over. See that he's placed at sea. We'll need to find replacements elsewhere," Kalen says, setting down her mug and heading above deck.
(http://img504.imageshack.us/img504/943/inodpwnedfs2.jpg)
Kalen grabs a bucket and fills it with water, heading for her bunks. Skipper was wounded recently, sparring with Horatio in the down time after the battle.
"Well," Kalen says, walking into his room, startling Skipper. Despite his minor injury, just a spear through the hand, he's cheered up considerably in the recent weeks following the battle.
"Now, we are 11," she continues, bringing the bucket to his lips. He gulps down the sweet crystal liquid, it's briny origins not entering his mind. "Have ye a plan to get us reinforced, cap?"
"Aye ... aye I do. Two fish, one stone!" Kalen chuckles heartily as she heads back out into her quarters.
What she sees when she arrives shocks her to the bone.
(http://img246.imageshack.us/img246/4152/proflivesyi4.jpg)
"PROFESSOR!" Kalen bursts out, slapping his freshly healed arm. He does not wince, grinning broadly.
"Aye cap, I'm all recovered. The blessed goddess of blight has not seen fit to call me to her side just yet."
"Well, good, we need you, we're short on crew."
"Aye ... cap?", Professor responds, confused.
Kalen stops, her eye squinting. He hasn't heard.
She recants the true tale of the battle, Professors heart sinking as he learns of Bob's death.
"Yes .. aye," he says, sadly, his eyes perusing the deck. The goddess of blight was not so forgiving of his sins, after all.
"Professor, I have need of your navigation skills. With Bob gone, we've a few problems. First, we need some loot."
"But, I thought you said we were after revenge?"
"Aye, but we need it ... for bait."
The Professor nods, knowing not to question her plans.
"Secondly, we need new crew, and I know just the place to get them."
"Where's that, cap?"
"Right where we came from. I need you to chart us a course BACK to that cursed island, but, we need to come at it from the other side. There is a small bay overlooked by a bluff. If I recall correctly from the directions we were ambushed from, it should be near the home of the goblins. Set us a course and have Boucher man the wheel while Skipper recovers, we've much work to do."
"Aye, cap!" Professor says, saluting briskly before heading out the door, ecstatic to be back on the hunt.
He passes Bob's casket, draped in shadow as the rest of the deck is plunged in sunlight. He places his hand on the alder box and whispers a prayer to his goddess before heading below to grab his sextant.
1st Limestone, Early Autumn, 1059:
The island is back in sight, Kalen standing on the crow's nest, spyglass pressed to her one remaining eye. She drops it to the rail and looks down over the edge to see Imp standing on the bow of the ship.
She'd ceded to Boucher's request of memorializing Beardless Bob further, and allowed a statue of him to be placed at the front of the ship, his beardless face beaming proudly out to sea. Imp has calmed much recently, settled by the crews obvious devotion to his fallen comrade.
(http://img147.imageshack.us/img147/3845/impstayswithbobsstatuehl6.jpg)
Kalen smiles down as Imp places his hand on the statues shoulder.
(http://img262.imageshack.us/img262/1399/impfeelsbetteror8.jpg)
Pleased to finally have her crew back in order and sailing whole heartedly under her flag, she heads below decks. Walking towards the galley, she hears wood splintering and a few muffled screams, more thuds and crashes.
"FUCK! What now?" Kalen curses as Ducana, Jaina, and Boucher sit at a galley table, chuckling at their concerned captain.
Kalen streams towards the row of bunks, worried that the fragile peace amongst her crew had shattered and she would be forced to solve more problems with squabbling mates.
Kalen stops and grabs a lantern, preparing to bash heads in order to subdue any fight. She approaches one of the bunk doors, Sigurds; her worry spreading. Subduing the mighty viking would be no easy task, and she pities anyone who may have offended him. She places her hand on the door, hearing more muffled screams and thuds inside the room.
Turning the nob and kicking the door open, lantern held above her head like a club, Kalen storms into the room.
Crash! The lantern smashes into the ground. The lady dwarves laughter from the galley lights down the hall and into Kalen's ears, swiftly turning red.
"Hello!", Sigurd's gravely voice rings out, meekly. "Hey ..." Q-tip says, blushing, drawing the sheets closer around them.
(http://img247.imageshack.us/img247/299/qtipsigurdsittinonaplanws4.jpg)
"BAH!", Kalen snorts, smiling, "Keep it down in 'ere you two, you've nearly capsized us with all that racket." Kalen backs out of the room and shuts the door softly, turning down the hall to see Jaina, Duncana, and even Boucher burst out in laughter. Kalen shakes her head, smiling, before heading back up deck.
The crew have healed once again, ready for more adventure.
[ March 13, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
(http://img526.imageshack.us/img526/8759/ellvesrhereld8.jpg)
"Traders!" Imp's voice rings out down on the deck. Skipper looks up, scurrying over to the deck rail and sees the traders approaching. He's still not exactly sure why they need to trade, their holds are full of booze and food, and their mission no longer revolves around plunder and booty, but Kalen demanded it.
Skipper lowers the plank onto the makeshift dock, welcoming the traders aboard. He glances up to the captains quarters to see Kalen overlooking the operation from the stairs. His orders are clear and the task is simple.
"Just uh, place your goods right there, we'll be bringing out our ... metal toys, and some stone mechanisms for you, eh?" Skipper lies, beckoning them aboard.
The foolish elves do not hesitate though they balk at the monstrous beast of a ship, every plank of wood a mortal offense. "Fools," Skipper muses as he watches them unload their gaudy trinkets and useless carvings.
After they have finished, the Elven emmissary approaches him.
"What then will you heathens be prepared to offer us for our wonderful crafts?" He asks, disdain tainting his voice.
"Let me see ..." Skipper says, looking cowed, before dropping his logbook and picking up a spear, whirling on the disgusting elf and placing it's sharpened point to the pale beardless neck.
(http://img141.imageshack.us/img141/5255/jackmovenw6.jpg)
"Just this." Skipper says calmly as the rest of the crew approach, armed to the teeth and excited at the prospect of battle.
The elves, no matter how disgusting and slimy and stupid, do know when they are outmatched.
"Ah," The emmissary sighs, his head cocked back away from the tip, "I see. Boys, let's be on our way, leave your things, they've got us." He hisses, his eyes squinting around the ship.
As they depart, Skipper prepares to bring down the plank. "No, not yet," Kalens voice comes from behind him. "Good work, but, this is just step one of my plan. They'll no doubt give our location to the goblins in a day or two and they will be glad to come and try and steal the things we've taken from the elves this day."
"Ohhhh," Skipper responds, impressed. His trust in the captain has been restored over the past weeks, and her cunning continues to impress him.
"Now, if everything goes according to my plans, any minute now we should ..."
"CAP!" Imp yells down from the crows nest.
"Ahh yes," Kalen smiles, "right on time."
"What's that captain?" Skipper asks, distracted and perusing their stolen goods.
"Fresh meat." Kalen responds, moments before Imp makes the call.
(http://img84.imageshack.us/img84/4093/freshmeatwi4.jpg)
The natives poured out towards them, two by two, animals at their heels and rucksacks on their shoulders. This kobold and goblin infested island was a place meant to be left, and Kalen was gambling on their desire to use her for passage.
She locked the door to the plank, but didn't draw it up.
As the natives approached and lined up on the dock, Kalen whispered over to Fishgut, "Wish we had some way to test them and see who is best ... but we're out of monkeys."
"Aye," Fishgut responds, rubbing his chin. "Y'know cap'n, I spotted somethin' 'low'n da surf 'afore we left, but we ne'er had time 'te go after 'et. Avast!" He says, leading her over to the southern ship rail, "See it?"
"No ..." Kalen responds, confused.
"There ... just below the surface!"
Kalen squints hard trying to overcome the reflective glare of the sun. THERE! A swordfish ... no, a skeletal swordfish. "Aharrr, matey!" She says, slapping him on the back, "Ye're a cruel, evil, cunning son of a bitch! Blasted best pirate we've got aboard!" Fishgut grins, but inside, he's hiding his sadness. He'd wanted a shot at the fish, himself. Seem's letting a bunch of lowly villagers have it was quite a waste ... unless the fish won the battle. Then it would be a worthy opponent. His heart rose and he followed Kalen back to the plank.
"DO ANY OF YOU SPEAK DWARVEN!" She yelled out at the assembled mass.
"Aye ...", one of them responded, "Help us get off this island, the goblins and kobolds are killing us daily, we've got to get off 'ere!"
"Aye, you can come aboard!" Kalen says, Fishgut suprised by the false sweetness she manages to slick onto them.
The villager translates and the dock errupts in cheers.
"HOLD YET!" Kalen shouts, holding up her hand, her eye intent on the translator. "Ye've got to prove you'll be worth your salt aboard. We've a task for you. Once you complete it, we'll let all 20 of you come on. There's plenty of food and booze and free passage to the mountainhomes if ye can solve this one minor problem for us, mates," Kalen lied, Fishgut trying to stifle a laugh.
"Go south and kill the swordfish for us so we can leave port safely and we'll let ye aboard!" Kalen yells out before dissappearing over the edge of the deck.
"Think they'll do it?"
Fishgut hopes they won't, but assures her they will.
Imp shouts down from above, "They're on the move, cap!"
Kalen scampers up the mast to stand with Imp. He smiles at her, all animosity drained at her dedicating of their mission to revenge for the fallen mate. She smiles at him and grabs the spyglass, watching as the 20 odd villagers stride through the surf towards the shallows where the swordfish resides.
Unarmed, the mass of natives surround the fish, one of them grabbing its tail and pulling it on land before they suddenly all pounce on it.
(http://img530.imageshack.us/img530/6124/wrastlingdafishieszn7.jpg)
Kalen chuckles, watching the unholy zombie fish, it's pestilent body writhing under the mass of natives. Like a large ball of flesh, they roll around in the surf, none wavering.
Ten minutes later, Kalen drops the spyglass. "Bloody hell ... they're still going ...", she sighs. "Aye cap!" Imp chuckles, "they'll be fine wrestlers by the time this is over!"
"If it's EVER over!" Kalen snorts, heading below. She passes another glance along the beach, sighing as the tumbling ball of flesh continues to roil under the breaking waves.
She heads to her bunk to grab some sleep, certain the number of natives will be greatly reduced by the time she wakes up.
18th, Sandstone, Mid-Autumn, 1059:
Kalen pounds down an entire barrel of booze, wiping her face and yawning. She dons her eyepatch and hat, heading up the mast, where Imp is waiting. Not waiting, she notices, sleeping. Kalen gives him a gentle nudge, startling him.
"Whoa, hey, i'm awake ... resting my eyes cap ..."
"Aye?" Kalen asks, confused, "How many are dead now?"
Imp, unable to see over the rail in his prone position, has no idea. Judging by the ferocity of the swordfish, he can only imagine a handful had survived.
"Five?", he responds.
Kalen lifts the eyeglass.
"Bloody fuck. Well, you were half right. The ones that survived have become quite good wrestlers. But your count is off by a bit." Kalen hands him the eyeglass as he stands. Imp's jaw drops as his eyes see the exact some sized ball of flesh rolling around in the surf.
(http://img89.imageshack.us/img89/766/20wrestlersmd9.jpg)
"By Armok himself, none of them are dead!" "Aye," Kalen responds, squinting. She can see fresh trails of blood, at least something has been accomplished.
"Well, the fish seems to have gotten quite skilled himself ..." Imp pronounces, witness the battle.
(http://img301.imageshack.us/img301/9133/ultralegendaryswordfishll7.jpg)
Kalen looks up at the rising sun, her mind ticking off the hours in preparation for the coming goblin attack.
"I haven't got time for this shit," she spits, swinging down the ladder and sliding to the deck.
"FISHGUT!" She yells out, her eyes on the battle. Fishgut comes above deck and puts his arm around her waist. "Yes, love?" he whispers sweetly into her ear.
Kalen spins on him and shoves him back, "STOWE IT, save it for the bunks, I need you to go and finish this, those worthless oafs can't even handle that bloody fish."
Fishguts initial dejection melts away as he looks out to see the zombie fish still alive, his heart racing.
"AYE AYE CAP!" he responds briskly, grabbing his sabre. Kalen's anger fades at his eagerness to do her bidding.
Kalen smiles as she watches Fishgut stream towards the ball of natives, wading through the surf eagerly. 'Magnificent piratry,' she thinks to herself, fondly.
Fishgut, a smile on his face, clears the last of the waves into the shallows of the bay.
"ARR, out of my way you bloody landlubbers!" He rings out, peeling off exhausted natives to get to the fish.
Imp stares down with his eyeglass, anticipation mounting.
((movie))
http://mkv25.net/dfma/movie-419-fishgutdoeswhathedoesbest
(http://img168.imageshack.us/img168/9084/fishgutwinsay6.jpg)
In a flash, it's over. Fishgut wipes zombie guts off his blade, laughing into the surf.
"GRAB THE BEST TWO!" Kalen shouts down from the crow's nest. Fishgut nods and waves from the bay. He sheathes his sword and looks for the two least wounded natives and grabs their exhausted bodies by the scruff of the beard. "Yerr comin' with me mates," he grunts, dragging them through the sand.
The rest of the natives, too weak to move, cry out and reach their arms towards his back, disappearing into the distance.
Fishgut shrugs them off. They've enough problems, no need to fill their holds with worthless dwarven flesh. The two in his grip cry out and struggle, their minds dazed from the day long battle with the swordfish.
As Fishgut rounds the plank, natives in hand, Kalen unlocks the door, allowing them on board. Just as Fishgut steps onto the deck with his screaming natives, Kalen is completely unsurprised to hear Imp shout down, "GOBLIIINS!"
She looks up at the cliff wall to see a force of goblins heading for the bay, spears waving above their heads. The trail of elven goods she's had the crew scatter across the cliffs have brought many new targets, and she calls the crew up to battle.
"This is the revenge we've been seeking, lads!" Kalen shouts as the crew scurries to pick up their battle gear. "We do this for BOB!" The crew cheers out, chanting Bob's name.
As the men assemble on the deck, Kalen hears a thunk behind her. She spins on her heel, expecting to see an advanced goblin party sneaking up to them. Instead, she see's a wee dwarven lass, just a baby, has snuck on deck after she left the door unlocked.
"Bloody hell, throw it overboard!" Kalen shouts out, pointing at the crying child. Boucher steps up, mace in hand, and stops her. "Cap, she's just a lass, let's wait until the battle's over and set her off somewhere, eh? She surely won't eat much. T'wont be a trouble, I'm sure."
Kalen meets eye's her up and down, nodding. She feels a debt to Boucher for being so strong having lost her lover in battle. "Aye then," Kalen nods, "get her below decks. Her parent's are likely about to be slaughtered," Kalen says, even as she can hear the tortured cries from the natives on the beach, weakened and vulnerable.
"Should we try and save them, cap?" Jaina asks, concerned.
"We'll try and give them a fighting chance, lass. Grab your blades, crew, we've got REVENGE TO FULFILL!"
Boucher disappears below decks holding the young dwarven lassies hand, speaking to her softly, fully aware that Kalen has no intention of saving the girls parents.
Imp, ordered to stay on the crow's nest, watches down below as Kalen leads the pirates into the battle, reveling in every drop of goblin blood spread into the bay.
((movie))
http://mkv25.net/dfma/movie-420-revengebattle
Imp grins and sighs in relief. All through out the short battle, his heart rises as Bob's name comes up from the roar, only ever accompanied by anguished goblin screams as they are sliced in half and tossed into the unforgiving waters. The crew are fiesty pirates now and suffer not even a stubbed toe.
Kalen, down on the shores, halt's their advance after the victory. A massive party of goblins is forming around the exhausted natives collapsed on the surf, and saving them would certainly mean losses of her own crew. She thinks of the child on board only a moment before ordering her men back onboard the ship.
"More goblins 'acomin, we've got to get on the ship if we're to fight them on our terms!"
The crew rounds about and leaves the shores, the sounds of dying villagers licking at their heels.
Back on board the ship, Kalen joins Imp to watch the bloody carnage. She's missed the brunt of the massacre, and Imp looks slightly ill. She doesn't even glance at the bodies rolling in the surf, caring only for the mass of goblins heading for the ship. Many, many goblins, she notes, formulating a plan.
(http://img150.imageshack.us/img150/6207/shitloadofgobszw1.jpg)
'This day may be a bloody affair after all', she thinks, before dropping the spyglass, her plan solidifying in her cunning mind.
"Imp, come with me, I need ye to prepare an ambush." The two scurry down the deck, Imp following her orders and carefully taking up a position in the shadow of the captains quarters. Kalen leaves him, confident in his abilities and unwavering loyalty, heading below decks to deliver orders to her crew.
'Which one of ye,' she thinks, looking at her salty dogs, imagining the coming waves of the goblin army, 'will need an alder box before the day is out?'
Kalen barks orders at the men below decks, the only other sound being the whimpering of the poor dwarven child, curled up on Boucher's bed, crying.
Kalen is alone on the crows nest watching as the goblin's approach, Imp still at his post preparing for ambush. Kalen is ticking off numbers in her mind, reeling at the sight as goblins continue to pour down off the cliffs. 'Must be their entire village ...' she thinks, before raising the eyeglass.
Kalen gasps.
'My blood god,' she thinks, offering up a prayer, 'we set out for revenge, and you've given us an opportunity. Now, if only we can grasp it ...'
Kalen grins up at the sky. The blood god has given them a mighty gift this day.
The goblins that killed Beardless Bob have returned, and this time, they've brought every single one of their numbers, including:
(http://img136.imageshack.us/img136/3919/goblinleaderuk9.jpg)
Kalen cackles with glee as she swings down the jib lines onto the deck, rolling at the fall and pouncing up, giving Imp a thumbs up as she scurries under the deck hatch.
"Alright LADS, STRAP YERSELVES DOWN, this'll be a fine mess!"
Kalen describes the coming waves to her men, "Must be 20, maybe 25 goblins. And they've brought a friend!"
(http://img136.imageshack.us/img136/605/goblinleaderarmyih6.jpg)
The crew are shocked at first, but the shock melts from their faces and their teeth clench.
This is an opportunity to avenge their fallen comrade, good and proper, and to cripple the mongrels entire civilization that took him from them.
Cheers and roars bubble up from below decks, lighting on Imp's trained hunter's ears. He smiles, crouching, quiver at the ready, preparing for the ambush.
(http://img526.imageshack.us/img526/3644/goblinscomethxr4.jpg)
The goblin leader pauses. He smells something ... something in the air. He waits, letting a crew of swordsmen pass him, his cruel heart allowing fate to bring them whatever it may before he puts himself in danger.
THWINK ssssssssssssthp, thwap thwap thwap thwap thwap, the constant clinks ring out as the goblin leader watches his spearmen slaughtered on the dock by an invisible adversary.
((movie)) http://mkv25.net/dfma/movie-421-impavengeshisfriendbob
Imp cries out in joy as the party of swordsmen keel over and die in the sand, bleeding like stuck marmots, his bolts riddling every part of their bloated corpses.
Imp, out of bolts, ecstatic at his victory, scampers down the deck.
"One wave turned," he yells, laughing as he sprints to get more bolts.
"READY LADS?" Kalen cheers, drawing up her hammer. They storm onto the deck, securing the door, watching as another group of goblin swordsmen approach.
Kalen, preparing to open the door and let the blood letting begin, halts as a bolt whizzes over her shoulder. Imp, the fiesty devil, has not had his fill of revenge, he's back on deck and crouching low, plinking bolts onto the assembled goblin mass standing precariously on the plank
The crew cheer as the goblins melt away under his withering fire.
((movie))
http://mkv25.net/dfma/movie-422-impatitagain
Seeing the next wave disperse, Kalen prepares to open the door for her lads to finish the fight, when she see's the goblin leader himself, pike in hand, charging across the dock, a massive group of spearmen and bowmen at his heels.
"Shit ..." Kalen says, counting, "too many!" she shouts, quickly barking out orders. The crew obey, hurrying below decks.
Kalen stays on the deck a moment before unlocking the door and hauling off to join her crew.
Panting, she shuts the hatch above her. "Wait lads," she says, patiently.
The crew, impatient, begin to rustle, "This is cowardly, cap!" Horatio spits, his blade bloodless and his teeth gritting.
"Aye, but we're pirates, not royal guards. Just trust me ...", she cautions, her ear to the deck.
They hear the plank rattle as goblin boots clunk across it. The sound of the door swinging open, a few cautious steps.
Kalen grins, listening. THWANK. TWANK TWANK.
The crew, confused, see her laughing and smile. They know. They know. Bob, your vengeance is only a few minutes away, and, should they survive the boarding, they can be as cruel and evil as they see fit.
Hearing the goblins marching around on the deck, shouting confused orders, Kalen waits. "Hold ... hold ... hold ..."
Blinking her frosty eye, she looks at her crew.
"Ready?"
"AYE CAPTAIN!" they roar at her, causing the feet below to stop clanking around, searching for them.
"FOR BOB!!!" comes the cry as the crew streams out on deck.
The day is frought with the glory of battle. Limbs and heads fly off the ship, the crew losing themselves in the fray, every dwarf and she-dwarf partaking in the slaughter.
In a moment, it's all over.
***
Still 18th, Sandstone, 1059:
Kalen eyes her beautiful ship, covered in the mire of battle.
Goblin corpses lay everywhere, vomit, blood, discarded weapons.
"ASSEMBLE!" she makes the familiar call, remembering their first day embarking on the seas.
She counts, 1 by one, as the crew line up. Everyone is here. None are wounded.
The blood god has looked down on their battle kindly, this day.
Though the crew are entirely unwounded, the deck is a bloody mess.
(http://img407.imageshack.us/img407/7346/carnageonthedeckqg1.jpg)
Kalen orders the men to begin tossing goblin corpses overboard. Her eye is alight as she walks over to the plank, pulling the lever and drawing it up.
"Cut us loose, Skip," she orders, pausing at the door.
At her feet, curled up in a ball in the tiny cage, lies her adversary, spitting and sniveling, cursing her and her crew.
(http://img144.imageshack.us/img144/1888/goblinleaderinacageyeahdz9.jpg)
"Some leader you are," she spits into the cage, kicking the bars. The goblin heaves and thrashes about, trapped. Kalen laughs, thinking of Bob, imagining the thousands of ways they can torture him. Looking around, she finds that their traps have captured many more goblins. Five total, pathetic green globs wiggling about in cages, cursing at them in their foreign tongue.
Imp stands next to Kalen and looks down on the goblin leader. "So, he's the one that sent the ambush, eh?"
"Aye, mate. Aye."
"Well then..." he grins, rubbing his hands together, "we'll need to take our time to decide the best way to deal with him ..."
Kalen nods, turning to Imp. They lock eyes to eye for just a moment, nodding, compatriots forever. Kalen has fulfilled her duty as their captain and vengeance is theirs. Imp, his heart swelling with pride and glory, stifles his cheers and proudly heads up to the crows nest, his mind running through ideas for how to best torture the goblin leader.
Moving from crewdwarf to crewdwarf, Kalen congratulates them all, offering prayers to the blood god. The men are overjoyed at their victory, each one doing double duty in preparation for their embarking.
Once the ship is cut free from the dock and they are headed out of the bay, goblin prisoners secured in their hold, Kalen goes to her new soldiers.
One of them was wounded by the swordfish and is sleeping in his new bunk. Kalen orders another bed placed their to house both of the two native wrestlers. She brings them food and water, telling them of the journey they are embarking on, gathering oaths of fealty from both male dwarves.
Having seen them both to their new bunk, she stops at Bouchers shoulder as the dwarven lass drinks a mug of grog, still covered in goblin blood but overjoyed by the slaughter.
"Where's our wee lady?" Kalen asks, respectfully.
"During the fight ... she got into my bunk. She found the rest of Bob's gunpowder ..." Boucher winces, smiling just a little. "She light it off, captain ..."
Kalen looks horrified, expecting to have to clean adolescent dwarven guts off her ship as well as the remaining goblin bits.
"No, no, cap ... she's fine. You'll see."
"Since we let her back above deck ... she's in the only place she seems happy ..." Boucher responds, looking up from her grog. Kalen can see tears forming in her eyes. This must have something to do with Bob.
Kalen follows her directions and heads up to the deck. Looking up, she is shocked.
(http://img212.imageshack.us/img212/8122/childwithbobsstatueim6.jpg)
The young dwarf is staring out to sea, holding the statue close to her, shoulders racked with sobs.
Kalen lights up the stairs to the bow of the ship to see the young dwarven girl sobbing hard, grasping the statue tight with all her might.
Kalen walks up behind her, clearing her throat.
The young girl turns, taking her hand off Beardless Bob's stony arm. Her face is blackened around the edges, and her fledgling beard is blasted off, leaving red cracked skin. Kalen gasps. Surely, hair will never grow there again. 'A torturous fate for such a pretty young lady ...', Kalen thinks, wondering where they will be able to offload the young girl.
The girl looks back to the bay that they are sailing out of and begins to cry, hugging the statue. Kalen realizes she must've seen the bodies of her parents bobbing in the surf. 'Ach,' she thinks, disgusted with herself, 'I can't drop this lass off after taking her from her family ... and letting them die.' Kalen swallows hard, grabbing the girl by the shoulder. She kneels down and looks into her blackened face.
(http://img259.imageshack.us/img259/633/kalentalkstothechildtj2.jpg)
The girl is terrified and obviously upset. She only pauses crying to glare momentarily at the Captain. Kalen's heart wrenches in her chest.
"Lass, ye can stay wi' us. I've ne'er seen a use for children," she continues, awkwardly, not caring if the girl speaks dwarven, "but I'll see that ye' have a safe place amongst our crew."
Standing before her, Kalen peers down at the girl hugging the statue tightly.
"What's your name, lass?"
The girl looks confused, before coughing up, "B-B-B-bint-t-y", turning back to the statue, sobbing.
"Ah. Well lass, we'll call ye' something similar."
Kalen touches her shoulder softly before giving her her new name.
Grabbing the girls hand and pulling her softly from her beloved statue, Kalen leads her below deck to where the crew are knocking back grog and telling tales of the battle.
"CREW!", she says, proudly. The dwarves turn to her, smiling, Boucher winking at the young lass.
"I'd like to introduce you to the youngest and smallest pirate ye' ever did see."
"Let's have three cheers for BEARDLESS BINTY!"
The room errupted in laughter and applaus, cheers ringing out. Imp rubs his hand through her trussed locks, pinching her bare pink cheek. "Aye lass," he says, softly, "welcome aboard."
(http://img399.imageshack.us/img399/6084/beardlessbintyel4.jpg)
[ March 14, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
We've got 2 other new mates, besides Beardless Binty.
I have a feeling it'll be a while before anybody wants to claim them so for now I'll have them as galley slaves and sparring dummies, but we've got 2 fresh faces on the ship if anybody wants to join the community fort.
Here are the new crewmembers:
(http://img264.imageshack.us/img264/4035/newcrewman1xt0.jpg)
(http://img341.imageshack.us/img341/3955/newcrewman2vb9.jpg)
If you're interested, make a post, I'll get you set up. Give me a name, a profession type (piratey, i'd hope) and weapon preference.
Also, current crewmembers:
I'd like input on what exactly you'd like to see done to our new captive GOBLIN LEADER in a cage!
We can toss it overboard, make somebody fight it (Goblin Leader vs. Ship Captain would be cool) or something else, if you've got an idea, post it, but, we've got him good and can do with him as we please.
AVAST YE SCURVIES, we're quite the successful pirate ship, and the crew is now 13, 14 counting our wee new pirate, Beardless Binty =)
I'll call him Tiny, the Brawler. He doesn't use a weapon, he'd rather tear apart the goblins with his bare hands. Yarr!
One spot open, and for the rest of the current crew:
I'll post updated profiles in a moment to our brave pirates, I'm sure we'll see lots of "joy in slaughter" as you would expect if you've checked the last couple updates =)
Now, for the matter at hand:
What will my crew have in store for our captive goblin leader???
If you wouldn't mind just giving me some hints (don't have to write pages or anything) about how you'd like these two's personalities and backstories to shape up, please let me know, but remember:
They're native villagers, don't speak great dwarvish, and were taken from their families.
If you don't have anything to add by the next update, I'll make it up myself, but, as you can see by the history of the fort, I'm no saint, so don't expect it to be overly nice =) So, you've got your chance, take it if you wish. And welcome aboard!
[ March 13, 2008: Message edited by: Wiles ]
quote:
Originally posted by othorocksmoms:
<STRONG>Ill like a dwarf name him malanga he is one of the natives that survived a goblin attack I want to be a grog making apprentice of the grog mistress.one question how did you make the ship?</STRONG>
Sadly, my friend, all of the other natives save Knifer and Tiny were killed in the attack =( Perhaps we'll be able to take on more crew soon.
I've got plans to draw up some new bunks above the captains quarters soon, but I believe it'll take a bit. :confused: Very sorry, but, keep an eye open, I'll make sure to make it clear whenever we have any dwarves available, and you can sign up at your own peril! Again, very sorry, but the ship is quite full.
Also: To make the ship, I dug out a dry-dock (basically a huge rectangle below the water line) and made sure no water got into it and constructed the ship from the bottom-up inside the dry dock, then, when it was completed, I flooded the dry-dock to let the ocean in, thus, setting us afloat! (figuratively, of course)
[ March 13, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
quote:
Originally posted by othorocksmoms:
<STRONG>Dang thanks anyway nice story by the way. Ill keep my eyes open for any openings.
LONG LIVE BELLSMAW AND HER GROG.</STRONG>
HURRAH! Thank you for reading mate, and again, very sorry.
I mostly hesitate because ... we don't take immigrations usually, just this time we grabbed 2 out of the 22 because we needed 1 to fill a spot and an extra fighter guy sneaked on board with the child, the rest of the immigration waves that come I usually let starve to death on the beaches because we can't fit anybody else on. So, mostly the opportunity to get new dwarves will come in the form of another dwarf passing, and being replaced by a new face.
But okay unless anybody objects I'll start a future-pirate-signup sheet on the original post, with Malanga at the top of the list.
Make Imp fight the spearmaster, please, and avenge his good friend Bob personally.
Okay so 1 vote for a revenge battle between Imp and the goblin leader: What say the rest of ye crew (if ever'n ye read this) I'll hold off a bit to give the others a chance to have a say.
/signed
The Dread Pirate ship Bellsmaw has been a peaceful place for the past months since their fateful encounter with the goblin tribe.
The new crewdwarves are integrating successfully ... for the most part.
Knifer lies bedridden still, his left arm still sporting a nasty swordfish wound.
(http://img181.imageshack.us/img181/6274/kniferswordfishwoundtw2.jpg)
Kalen had Boucher take a look at it and it's healing swiftly. The young villager's eyes are bright, but he is a proud young dwarf, defiant. Kalen has spoken with Skipper about ways to break him. He seems handy with a blade, constantly twirling a dagger stolen from some kobolds in his good hand. The lad speaks fluent dwarvish but refuses to speak of his family or life on the island.
The crew wouldn't have known of his status as tribal leader if Tiny hadn't told them. Knifer is extremely proud and stoic, speaking only when necessary. During the deliberation process on the prospect of torturing the goblin leader, Knifer briefly walked out of his room, leaning on Tiny to offer to fight him even in his weakened state. Kalen was impressed but ordered him back to bed; he'd need weeks of training before being able to take on the goblin pikemaster, not including the months and months of recovery required for his current wound.
Tiny is a bit of an enigma. The large dwarf stands nearly human tall, towering over even mighty Sigurd, though not as wide ... yet. He's trained daily with the crew, honing his battle skills and teaching them ancient tribal combat techniques passed down from hut to hut around campfires since the Age of Myth. He's taken quite a keep liking to the crafting of bone bolts scavenged from the fish Fishgut pulls in daily, crafting masterful and deadly weapons which gain nothing but nods of approval from the marksman Imp.
While Kinfer languishes on his sick bed, Boucher coming to him daily to to shower him with water and some of Horatio's famous 'Bat Ray Suprise', Tiny was already making himself useful around the ship, helping expand the dining room to accommodate the new crewmen.
(http://img247.imageshack.us/img247/8457/tinyhelpsexpandgu7.jpg)
Within the first weeks of his boarding the ship, the crew noticed something VERY strange about Tiny.
Wherever he went, rain or shine, sleep or battle, work or play, he always carried his lucky charm with him. This would not be a problem were it not for the grizzly nature of said charm. No one can explain where he obtained it, and Tiny will not speak of it at all.
(http://img210.imageshack.us/img210/4210/wtftinyqq7.jpg)
Kalen asked him to let it go but nearly had to order the men to subdue him: He would NOT part with it.
Concerned for the safety of her crew (who knows what nasty vile plague is sitting dormant in that rotted thing?) Kalen went so far as to have Q-Tip attempt to steal it from him in his sleep.
(http://img210.imageshack.us/img210/5599/sleepingwithhischunkrx9.jpg)
Mere minutes after taking her mission from Kalen, Q-Tip returned, her eye blue and puffy, shaking her head. He would not let it go.
***
Time has passed quickly on the ship, sailing around the coast, harassing goblin merchant vessels and preparing to mete out their vengeance with the utmost fury.
***
10th Opal, Mid-Winter, 1060:
Imp sits alone in his bunk, his arms crossed behind his head, remembering the the last few months clearly, not letting himself think about the fight tomorrow.
Just after the battle had ended and the ship was made seaworthy, Kalen had met with Imp to discuss the future and his battle with the goblin.
***
(http://img329.imageshack.us/img329/3549/preduelconferenceba4.jpg)
The crew were swaying about on the bow, singing praise and raising their mugs. Imp stood stoic next to the statue of Beardless Bob, staring out into the sea. The crew had just agreed to let him fight the goblin leader much to his surprise and excitement. 'Live or die,' Imp promised himself, 'I'll make him fucking pay ...'
"Imp ...", Kalen said, approaching him. He turned to her, his eyes calm, resolve set in his face.
"I've agreed to let you fight ... but I know you aren't ready. He's a pikemaster. Even stuck in that cage he nearly killed Duncana yesterday, reaching through the bars." Duncana, overhearing, blushes and takes a swig, trying to forget the embarrassing ordeal.
"I don't care," Imp responded, turning back to the sea. "I'm GOING to fight him." Kalen knew. She knew if she didn't let him do it officially then some time in the night he would sneak below decks and let the disgusting creature out to fight him alone, and she couldn't have that happen under her watch.
"I know ... but, all I'm asking you is to wait," Kalen pleaded, showing a momentary concern for her comrade, a dwarf who had risked his life and shown bravery and daring on the deck throughout the past 2 years at sea. "How long?" Imp asks, impatiently.
"Just, please, take this," Kalen responds, reaching behind her to hand him her personal battle hammer. "Train with it," she says, gently handing it to him, her fingers reluctantly giving up the heavy steel monstrous thing. "Train with it until you know how to use a blunt object, for he will certainly not wait patiently for you to shoot at him."
"Aye, captain," Skipper replies, taking the hammer into his hands and hoisting it. "Aye."
***
Throughout the next 6 months, Imp trained hard, various members of the crew joining him on the sparring deck, wetting the planks with blood daily, hourly, and by the minute. As Imp's skills grew, he accidentally knocked out Tiny's right kneecap. Tiny shrugged off the pain and did not ask to rest, but he would not spar again. Horatio, Fishgut, Jaina, Duncana, Boucher, Sigurd, Q-Tip, and Knifer gave him advice and assisted him in training.
Here is a video of Imp preparing for his battle with the goblin leader:
Okay, I admit that isn't entirely true; I also don't know how to strip a caged goblin of his weapon. I tried bribing him, but the unruly jerk wouldn't take cash, and I forgot to bring my PirateMaster Card. I know, I know ... never leave port without it =(
Any advice?
Or, you could just throw it over the side. Whichever you prefer.
EDIT: Ehh, spelling. "rhwo" does not mean "throw".
[ March 14, 2008: Message edited by: Kagus ]
Name: (Male) Kai /(Female) Ula
Wants to grow up to be: Macedwarf and Galley worker (Cook)
I'm a bit confused here...
Is the beardless kid mine or AlienChickenPie's?
quote:
Originally posted by martinuzz:
<STRONG>Keeps getting better and better.
Setting sails for Beyond Quality!I'm a bit confused here...
Is the beardless kid mine or AlienChickenPie's?</STRONG>
I'm not sure myself.
Either way, I concede, Let Beardless Bob's spirit live on within her.
I honestly didn't TRULY make that decision myself:
The kid was running around "VERY UNHAPPY" because her mother, father, and sibling, AND pet had all died at the same time. Then, she walks up the stairs and I think, "Oh god, she's going to go for a swim ..."
But she just stood by Bob's statue for about half a month before completely calming down. She also shares some traits with Bob, and was the only member on the crew with a profile note about admiring the siege engines he had crafted, so it just seemed to fit to me that she would be the natural successor to Beardless Bob. Though to be fair, none can currently control her, I guarantee I will make an effort to Alienchickenpie, othorocksmoms, and Kaelem Gaen active places on the crew list.
On page 1, I've put the list of "FUTURE PIRATES" just under the roster in the first post and will adhere to it stringently in the future, again, I'm sorry, I'm new to this community fortress thing so I have been making mistakes left right and high on center.
Also, pike or no pike, I have a my suspicions that Imp's bunk will soon be ... unoccupied. I hope not, he's our only marksdwarf, and a DAMN fine one, but, the will of the crew and the legacy of bob and the good of the story all tell me to stow those thoughts and let the young dwarf have his chance =)
[ March 14, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
While searching, however, I did notice that the cage he is in was stolen from the elves and is covered with images of elves surrounded by elves doing fancy and fabulous elven things, which, I'm sure, is torture for a goblin! =)
[ March 14, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
Kalen sits at a table in the galley surrounded by her crew. They do not cheer, they do not cry, they sit; rapt and attentive as she describes the duel between the brave Imp and the goblin leader. Unarmed combat, a fight to the death, absolutely no rules on the churning deck of the Dread Pirate ship Bellsmaw.
The eyes on her are opened wide, mouths agape, as she describes the epic battle:
(I will not spoil it with a written description, the events of the battle are captured remarkably well within the below linked movie)
Be ready to get your xSocksx knocked off by the ferocity! Enjoy!
http://mkv25.net/dfma/movie-425-impsfatefulrevengeduelwiththegoblinleader
They think I'm young now, don't they, sweet Bob...
Binty, Beardless Binty as the crew has come to call her, Armok knows why, chuckles at the thought of her presumed innocence.
The moment her parents died, something changed inside her. In her dreams she now can only see blood, Blood for the Blood god. Praise Armok! If it hadn't been for him, the goblins would sure as hell have gotten her. She would have been torn to pieces. Just like her father, just like her mother. She had seen pieces of them, floating on the foamy waves.
Somehow, it didn't touch her. She felt at ease, even though her mind told her she shouldn't be. There was a strange feeling of freedom. And yet, sorrow was there.
But was it sorrow for the fate of her parents?
She saw them die.
She knew who was responsible..
But in a strange way it felt like it was meant to be
She tried to remember them.
Yet only shadow remained.
Boucher's attention was much more real.
She told her. About Bob. And the life of a pirate.
And vengeance..
Surely this was meant to be her fate...
[ March 14, 2008: Message edited by: martinuzz ]
[ March 14, 2008: Message edited by: martinuzz ]
quote:
Originally posted by Fenrir:
<STRONG>Awesome fight! This story is the only reason I occasionally lurk here... like right now.</STRONG>
Aww, I'm glad it's engaging you man, I know it takes a lot to keep something like this engaging so, thanks to you all for your comments and to all the crew for helping contribute to the story, you've all made this officially the most fun I've had with a fort =)
And yes, AlienChickenPie, Imp was indeed hurt fairly badly, he'll never spar in hand to hand again; however, his already considerable marksdwarf skills will help him to become a mighty sniper up on the crows nest where he can rain down his bolts on our enemies!
I've some good plans for the future of this fortress and will be doing some major udpates today. I hope I can keep this engaging for our crewmen and others. Avast, ye scurvies, thar's trouble breaking on the horizon, and I know just the crew to make it walk the plank! ARR!!
Imp, all fired up on revenge gets totaly humilated, like when a drunk tries to fight a karate master
he notices that he is getting owned, and tries to run away for a while, untill out of sheer luck the goblin falls down and drowns....
and even in his last moments he humilates Imp by snatching his sock THROUGH his shoe....
quote:
Originally posted by Akroma:
<STRONG>wow....this was embarrasing...really embarrasingImp, all fired up on revenge gets totaly humilated, like when a drunk tries to fight a karate master
he notices that he is getting owned, and tries to run away for a while, untill out of sheer luck the goblin falls down and drowns....
and even in his last moments he humilates Imp by snatching his sock THROUGH his shoe....</STRONG>
I guess that's why it's threadbare- the goblin tore it right off and the game feels like understating.
I've been out of town all week. I missed alot! Imp avenged Bob!! Well done! The prof managed to get out of bed and enjoy a little wholesome slaughter. AND fresh galley slaves. Keep up the reports Valcon!
Retro
quote:
Originally posted by Retro42:
<STRONG> Keep up the reports Valcon!
Retro</STRONG>
Sorry about that, I was going to take 1 more day off to avoid becoming burned out, but the melancholy I was in spurned by Fenrir's withdrawal from forumciety will have to wait another day. When the strong have gone, the meek must carry the torch. Meekly. Updates in a moment.
Beardless Binty uncovers here eyes as the sound of cheering flitters down through the deck. She couldn't watch. She dare not join the crew on the crows nest. She had seen enough tragedy and knew that the nice strange dwarf was soon to be in little bitty pieces, but, when she heard the cheers continue, she allowed herself a moment to hope. Heading up the stairs, she sprinted towards the sparring deck.
The crew's laughter hot on her heels, she dashed up to the door and opened it, not caring at all for her own life. She flinched as a dark shape entered her view, expecting to be struck and disemboweled in a moment.
After a second of patient resignation, she peeked a look out of her squinted eyes and saw no goblin at all. No goblin could have a beard that magnificent.
She gasped as she looked up at the bloody, bitten, bruised and dazed Imp, victorious. The crew were chanting his name, laughing, and crying as they came up to greet him.
Little Binty stood at his feet in awe. What a dwarf to have bested a goblin tribal leader, a weapon master, and lived to tell the tale.
Imp looked up from his wounds to see his crewmates boundless grins. Kalen held up her hand when it looked as though Imp was about to speak. "Shhh," she hissed.
Imp looked at Binty, then back to the crew.
Imp clears his throat to speak, spitting out blood onto the deck,
"He stole my sock."
Binty was nearly crushed under the blood soaked dwarven mass as Imp passed out onto her, tumbling backwards into Kalen as the rest of the crew lurched forward to grab the unconscious dwarf before he went overboard, presumably looking for his sock.
(http://img291.imageshack.us/img291/2364/imptriestogetsockpo5.jpg)
[ March 18, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
Fuzzy light lit into his eyes, the sound of laughter and dining entering his ears. The blackness that had enveloped him moments before melted away and were replaced by the familiar noises of the pirate ship Bellsmaw.
He looked down his prone body he noted that he had been scrubbed clean of blood and ... yes, yes, the bite marks had healed. 'Strange', he thought, groggy, 'how could they heal so fast?' Pushing his luck, the dwarf lifted his arm gently, fully expecting it to pop and crack before flopping over. It did not. His eyes wide, the young dwarf smoothed his beard before carefully standing. His feet were wobbly and his knee's weak, but, he noticed, the deck of the ship was only gently bobbing, not being thrashed about as in the open ocean.
'How long ...', he began to think before Duncana burst into his room with a pitcher of water. He looked at her for a moment before smiling, expecting to be greeted with a hug or at least a friendly 'Hello'. Instead, he was greeted with a scream and an ice cold bucket of water in his face.
Rocking back on his heels and spreading his arms out wide, he shook his head, water soaking into his beard and drowning away the grogginess clouding his mind.
"Duncana ...", he said, cautiously, "there's no need to try and drown me, lass ..."
"IMP!" she squealed, peeking back around the corner. "MY BLIGHT GOD YOU'RE HEALED!"
Imp settled in to the hug she offered him, his mind clear, but his facts not straight.
"Why ... are you so shocked?" Imp asked, holding her at arms length after their hug.
"Uhh ... you've been out for a while, lad," she responded, plaintively, as though she wished to say more.
"Go and see the captain, she'll be delighted, and she'll have much to say ... I've got work to attend to, but I'm SO glad you're better," she sighed, giving him a quick peck on the cheek before rushing out the door.
'What the bloody ...', he began to think before the words were knocked out of his very brain by what passed outside his door. 'WHO?', he thought, before seeing it again, only ... slightly different, 'What?'
'Two ... three! Four? FIVE!?', Imp's mind reeled as he watched dwarf after dwarf walk by, none of their faces familiar. His first instinct was that the ship had been taken over by a hostile group of pirates, but, Duncana's semi-warm welcome squelched those thoughts as he dared to head out the door.
Stepping out gently, fully expecting to get run over, Imp looked down the hall into the dining room. 'So many dwarves,' he thought, counting. As he counted he was relieved to see some familiar faces in the crowd, drinking and singing merrily, 'Ahh, Q-Tip, Jaina, Skipper, the new ones Tiny and Knifer,' he thought before correcting himself, 'not the 'new ones' anymore, I suppose.'
(http://img509.imageshack.us/img509/2600/impstumblesoutfirstpostwj7.jpg)
Not wanting to make a scene, the hunter climbed up the steps towards the captains mess.
As he emerged onto the deck, Imp was startled.
The ship itself had changed. He could tell that it wasn't a new ship, but much had been added ... they must've been in port for some time to have accomplished all this, he reasoned, looking around. The walls of the ship's deck had been raised, fortified, and strengthened. The bow had been extended and reinforced, as well as the urine still on the deck.
Imp stopped before heading to see his captain, grabbing one of the new dwarves by the shoulder. The young lad stopped, confused, looking at him like he was some kind of human or elf aboard the ship.
"What's your name lad?" Imp asked, patiently.
The young dwarf paused, looking about briefly before answering, "Kai ...", he said, "Who are you?"
"I'm Imp!", Imp raised his voice, frustrated and confused. Nearly ready to smack the young lubber, Imp held himself as the dwarfs eyes lit up.
"Oooooooh!" he responded, respect and awe in his voice, "I have heard of you ... Glad you're healed!"
"What's with the ship?" Imp asked, waving around, "When did all this happen?"
"We finished about a month ago," he responded, beaming. "It took us quite a ..." he began before Imp suddenly left him, storming off towards the ladder to the crow's nest. 'Strange chap,' Kai mused before continuing down to the galley.
'A month ago?', Imp thought as he steadied himself to climb the ladder, 'And it must've taken 5 ... no 6 ... no," Imp tried to do the math, attempting to figure how long he'd been out, but, between the cold bucket of water and the long ladder which now felt unfamiliar in his grasp, he let the matter go.
Reaching the top, he crawled out into his sacred hiding place and previous station. Imp looked around and sighed, 'Ahh, finally, something they haven't changed,' before hoisting himself up to look around.
He could see they were at a new island ... 'No, no, mainland," he corrected himself, watching the land stretch as far as he could see. 'Disgusting,' he thought, his heart yearning for the blue horizon he'd grown so accustomed too.
Turning his eyes towards the deck, Imp was impressed. Not as much work as he'd thought from below, though the changes were still apparent from here.
Looking to the bow, he was happy to see that instead of discarded, the statue of Bob had been moved up to the top of the heightened and reinforced bow.
(http://img120.imageshack.us/img120/7738/3dimpview2hs9.jpg)
He made out some carved fortifications on the railing, perfect for shooting under cover. Pleased, Imp turned aft, towards the rear of the ship, to see the captain's quarters. Here, his mouth dropped.
(http://img156.imageshack.us/img156/6744/3dimpview1so0.jpg)
Multiple new layers, a large new room, stacks and stacks of fresh carved bone bolts and targets, and an entire new sparring area. The room's door was shut, so he could not see what lay inside, but, considering the large number of new dwarves milling about the ship, he could only assume it was some sort of barracks.
Shaking his head and sliding down the ladder, he turned to go meet with the captain.
Out of the corner of his eye he saw a child sitting on one of the ballista's, picking pieces off a plump helmet and tossing them into the ocean. Gull's were swooping below, competing for the young girls fare.
"Binty?", Imp asked, coming up slowly behind her.
The child hopped off the ballista and threw the entire mushroom into the sea before turning to him.
"Who?"
"You're ... not Binty," Imp noted, redundantly, staring at her fledgling beard.
"Duh," she responded playfully, "I'm Barnacle. Nice to meet ye mister," she said before running up the steps to the new barracks.
Imp, more confused than ever, decided it was time to see Kalen and sort all this out.
Knocking on the door, he heard Kalen's voice come through. Comforted that some things hadn't changed, Imp opened it and walked in. Kalen and Skipper were leaned over a map, pointing and muttering, drawing lines and going over notes with Professor, who was seated nearby.
Professor saw him first, shouting his name. Imp smiled as he greeted them, happy to be alone with his original crewmates, not a single strange face around.
After the hugging and slapping had settled down, Professor offered him his seat and took his leave to see Duncana.
Kalen, sitting next to him, turned to Skipper, "Why don't you give me a moment with him to catch the lad up, eh?"
Skipper gave her a knowing look, "Not again, cap ..." he said, impishly. Kalen laughed and acted as though she were about to smack him before shooing him off.
Imp, comfortable at last, was glad to see Skipper had suddenly overcome his jealousy. 'No,' he corrected himself, 'not suddenly ...'
"Well lad," Kalen said, settling at the table and passing him a mug of grog. "Where should we begin?"
Imp did not hesitate, "What day is it?"
"The 23rd," Kalen responded.
"23rd of what?" Imp asked, impatiently.
"Obsidian ..." Kalen responded, easing him.
"What YEAR is it!?" Imp asked, flustered.
"1061."
'Bloody ... fuck,' Imp sat back in his chair, hoisting the mug. 'An entire year ...' he thought, downing it entirely before slapping it back to the table.
"So ... tell me what I've missed."
[ March 18, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
"Well ...", Kalen drew in a deep breath, collecting her thoughts, "Let's see ... after ye' passed out on the deck ..." she began, before Imp muttered, "My sock ..." Kalen burst out a laugh, taking a swig. "We'll get ye a new one lad, cool it. That one's no doubt decomposing with the bat ray's, much like your foe."
"After ye conked out, we sailed around a bit, trying to get the ship in order. Ye'n the lad Knifer were both out o' action, leaving us short handed. We sailed for a month or two before the hold ran out of water, and that blasted urine still exploded again. I needed to get it walled off," she continued, her eye alight on the ceiling, "because Boucher was havin' trouble getting water to the lads. Sadly, though," she paused, taking a drink, "we'd run out of wood."
Imp nodded, grabbing the barrel to refill his glass before urging her to continue.
"As you undoubtedly saw ... we needed the wood for other things as well. The ship's fortifications needed to be repaired and enhanced, and I'd decided the best way to continue our battle with the goblins was to gain more swords to join us for the mission, but we had no place to house them. So we docked, here," she said, her eye leading out the window towards the land. Imp looked out and saw the rows of cut stumps on the hilltop near the aft of the ship, putting everything together.
"But cap," he interrupted, "don't the goblin's control this part o' land?"
"Aye ..." she responded, knowingly. "We had some ... trouble when we landed. Nobody was killed, but Boucher and Horatio and Jaina we're injured in the battle. Sigurd," she began, Imp gasping, horrified. 'No one could fell the mighty viking ... he is the anchor of this very ship!' Imp thought, dreading her next words.
"... saved us all," she continued, nonplussed. Imp sighed. 'Should've known the big lug knows nothing but the art of tearing apart goblins', he thought before urging Kalen to continue.
"When we docked we attempted to make for the tree's swiftly, but I, as ye noted, knew that this is goblin country, so I strapped up the lad's and led a landing party aboard," she continued, pausing to describe the landing to Imp.
(http://img509.imageshack.us/img509/9201/loggingprotectionteamol3.png)
"But while ye' were havin' a FINE nap," she said, trying to lighten the story for Imp, who was visibly having trouble with his inability to have participated, "we ... were ambushed."
Pausing to drink, Kalen described the scene once more.
(http://img149.imageshack.us/img149/1721/sigurdrapesfirstgobsarmoe7.jpg)
Imp's eyes widened, imagining her words. "He cut ... both the arms off?" Imp asked, astounded.
"Not just that," Kalen responded, "One of his whole leg's and half the other. Bloody gob' looked like a carp w' a gob' head fer' a tail, floppin' around the beach here!" Imp laughed, shaking his head, begging her to continue.
"The first group we made short work of," Kalen started, setting her arms on the table, "But the second ... was tougher."
(http://img150.imageshack.us/img150/6665/ambushpart2dd3.jpg)
"Powerful axegob's, these ones, and they managed to nick up Horatio and Jaina before we sent their head's rollin' cross the shore."
Imp shook his head, imagining looking down on the battle through the sights of his crossbow ... what damage he could've done.
Kalen, sensing his thoughts, urged herself onward through the toughest bit.
"We were tired after the second wave, to be sure ... but there's ne'er a resting place when the gob's are about. A third," she began, pausing to let Imp's mind catch up, "ambush hit us and broke our formation apart. Sigurd was separated."
(http://img187.imageshack.us/img187/9158/ambushpart3sigurdsololm6.jpg)
"We were held back and Q-Tip had a terrible time, thrashing about with her mace to get to his side ... but, as you can imagine, he did'ne need our help after all."
(http://img187.imageshack.us/img187/6703/ambushpart4sigurdsoloagcu6.png)
"Sigurd tore into those unlucky bastards," she spat, "like a fish hook from the pit itself."
'Nay,' Imp thought, smiling, 'an anchor.'
"By the time we'd reached him most o' those gobs we're chopped up and stacked like cordwood. One o' them buggers was nothin' but paste."
(http://img527.imageshack.us/img527/4453/ambushpart5finhm5.jpg)
Imp laughed but Kalen cut him off, "Aye, aye, but when we'd nailed them to the sand, we headed back on deck to clean up ... Then the next ambush landed," she said as Imp gasped, his mug going back to the table.
"This one ... was tougher. Hammerer's, all of them. By the time we'd turned back to the fight, lil' Boucher'd been clobbered good, her right arm looked like a tuna after Fishgut was done w'it," Kalen continued, her eye dropping to the table. She described the scene carefully, obviously etched into her mind.
(http://img504.imageshack.us/img504/3962/ambushpart6anotherwavejj5.jpg)
"Sigurd and I managed to hold them off while Duncana brought Boucher back to the ship, then the rest of the crew got to us and finished the fight before more damage could be done."
"Bloody hell," Imp sighed wistfully, clenching his teeth.
"Never blame yourself, lad," Kalen said firmly, the strength flowing back into her voice. "We all knew what you had to do with that gob', and most've us thought ye'd be dead, so do not hold your head low as I tell you of what you've missed, tis not you're fault."
Imp nodded, settling to his chair, replaying the battles in his mind, preparing himself for her to continue.
She did.
As Kalen opened her mouth to continue, the door to the cabin burst open.
"IMP!" came a girly dwarven rumble. Imp looked up but failed to recognize the face. He stood as she approached him. Noting her pink and healed cheeks, and the lack of any facial hair, Imp smiled broadly. "Binty!" he rumbled, giving her a short hug, "Look at ye'! You're twice the size I last saw 'ye!"
(http://img505.imageshack.us/img505/5152/bintygrewupqh9.jpg)
"Aye," she said, smiling, "It was a long year."
"So ... you've decided to be a peasant then?" Imp asked cautiously.
"No, no no," the girl responded, digging into her pocket. She pulled up a wee rope reed bag and held it out, "They call me a Powder Wench now," she responded, grinning. Imp halted his smile for a moment, a twinge pulling at his chest, before looking down at the girl with pride. "A good path to walk lass, a good path indeed."
Binty smiled before digging into her pocket again, grabbing Imp's hand and pressing something into it. "I made it for you," she said gravely before bounding to the door, pausing to wave as she left.
Imp looked down at his hand and laughed. Kalen, seeing his gift, joined him in a chuckle.
Imp sat back at the table and pulled his gift up his one bare ankle. It fit perfectly.
(http://img91.imageshack.us/img91/9286/impgotanewsockgn8.jpg)
"Well, carry on cap!" Imp said, smiling.
"Aye, where were we? Oh, right," she continued.
(http://img247.imageshack.us/img247/8024/pwnedmoregobbosus9.jpg)
"Yech, must've taken' ye weeks to clean that up," Imp snorted, taking a pull of his rum.
"You think that was bad?" Kalen laughed, joining him. When she looked up, she described a much more dire scene.
(http://img205.imageshack.us/img205/3792/slaughteredvillagersvr4.jpg)
As Imp spat out his rum and looked ill, Kalen carried on.
"I'd sent word to the mountainhome of our arrival and they'd been pleased with our exploits thus far. The King had seen fit to send us some new crewmen as per my request but ... they never made it."
"We took the time to leave the dock and send their bodies to the sea floor before returning," Kalen continued, here eye dropping, "but the journey was rough."
"Boucher ... well, after she'd been wounded, she started to talk about horrible things. She was sure that you would die, and you were her last link with Bob."
Imp gulped and nodded, his eyes heavy in his head and his brow furrowing, concerned.
"How is she?" he asked, unwilling to let the captain spell it on on her own terms.
"She's dead, Imp."
Imp sat back in his chair, his eyes welling up.
"What happened?" he gulped again, shuddering.
"She ... she thought you were dead, Bob was dead ... after 'while she stopped takin' water from us," Kalen carried on, struggling against Imp's choking, "we tried like hell," she sighed, "but she'd lost it."
(http://img149.imageshack.us/img149/3773/bouchergoesinsanehg6.jpg)
"Did ye' try and force ..." Imp looked up, no tears in his eyes, just remorse.
"Aye, mate, aye. She was gone, lad. She stripped down her clothes and crawled around the ship like a baby ... her mind was shot."
"Naked?" Imp asked, horrified.
"Aye, lad. Nothin' but her beard and some blood and vomit that she would 'ne let us clean."
Imp sighed and took a long drink from his mug.
"Did ye ... with the rest o' the reinforcements?"
"No, no," Kalen responded quickly, "No. She's next to Bob."
Kalen began to tell her about Duncana carefully placing Boucher's body in the casket before Imp interrupted her.
(http://img521.imageshack.us/img521/3552/entombingbouchersn3.jpg)
Imp stopped her story and strode to the door, looking out past the masts at the spot where he knew Bob lay entombed in shadow. Next to him, Imp saw another casket.
(http://img151.imageshack.us/img151/5868/boucherrestswithbobandscg1.jpg)
"If she'd had her wits," Kalen said, still seated, speaking over his shoulder, "She would've asked us to do it this way."
Imp nodded, swallowing hard. Looking harder, he noticed two odd things: Something was stuck into Bob's casket, and there was a ... 'Oh my blood god,' Imp thought, horrified, 'A THIRD CASKET?'
Imp turned on Kalen and demanded to know who was in it, shouting at her to stowe the storytelling.
"Easy lad," Kalen said, standing slowly and walking to him.
"It's empty," Kalen said, her eye looking deep into his.
Imp sighed deep, his fists unclenching. "Why is it there, then?" Imp asked, confused.
"It was ... for you," Kalen responded bluntly. "We all thought 'ye were a goner. Nobody goes out cold for a year and comes back ..." she said, looking him up and down, smiling. "We shoulda' known better, eh?" She laughed, slapping his arm.
Imp, slowly uncocking his eyebrow, smiled softly. 'They wanted to put me with Bob, too ...' he thought, his heart welling up.
"Nothing personal, eh?" Kalen asked, gesturing for him to join her back at the table.
"Nay, nay, tis' a fine gesture," Imp resonded sincerely, seating himself. He puffed up his chest and heaved a heavy sigh, his shoulders drooping under the weight of all the events.
"Chin up lad, the rest o' the tale is easier."
"Wait," Imp interrupted again, his eyebrow cocking up again, "I saw something sticking out of Bob's casket ..."
"OH aye," Kalen nodded, remembering, "Shortly after ye' blacked out, Professor was angry about the fate's of the crew and tossed the Pikemaster's pike over the deck in a rage. When we saw where it landed, we decided to leave it."
(http://img176.imageshack.us/img176/5900/putinbobscasketzy0.jpg)
"So then," Kalen continued, "the blood god has a sense of humor, eh?"
Imp did not laugh, taking a drink, solemnly.
"Continue ..." he said, his voice drained of emotion.
"The next few months were easy sailing ... figuratively, of course," Kalen continued.
"We sent out Malanga, Binty and Jaina to chop down some trees; oh, yes, Jaina and Horatio healed up quick. Though ... they did take a liking to each other while out of service," Kalen smiled, winking her only eye.
(http://img329.imageshack.us/img329/9310/jainaandhoratiobv7.jpg)
Imp laughed, shaking his head. He'd personally never understood the desire for flesh on long journeys, but, knowing his captain's own taste for a particularly salty piece of dwarven flesh, he shut his trap. He thought about the name 'Malanga' for a moment. Unable to put a face to it, he urged Kalen to continue.
"So, we set up quite the lumber operation."
(http://img410.imageshack.us/img410/8966/choppintreesfordashipcq8.jpg)
"We had to tear my beautiful ship apart, practically," Kalen sighed, rubbing her boots on the deck planks. "I managed to get through it, though," she continued, "because I knew another shipment of deckhands was on the way and we'd no time to lose."
(http://img410.imageshack.us/img410/8337/newroomsjs1.jpg)
Imp, confused, cocked his head to the side.
"Oh, right, the new crew. Well, we'd found Barnacle on the beaches when we'd returned. Seems she'd sneaked off with her mother when she was sent to us and hid during the slaughter. I couldn't turn the lass away, so we set her up with a bunk up there first," Kalen nodded up to the deck above the room in which they were sitting, the new barracks.
(http://img151.imageshack.us/img151/5866/barnacleprofnr7.jpg)
"She likes DEMONS?" Imp asked, his face pale, trying to imagine the sweet young dwarfling he'd met moments ago.
"AYE!" Kalen responded vigorously, her eye alight, "She'll be a FINE pirate, she will ..."
"What of ... what was it? Oh yes, I met a young dwarf named Kai on me way up to you, what of him?"
"Ahh, Kai was the first of the new crew to arrive. We think he was with the new crew ..." Kalen paused, "None of the other's recognized him and he showed up days before. He's a complicated chap, that one, many layers to his particular onion."
(http://img341.imageshack.us/img341/6054/kaixe9.jpg)
"Interesting ..." Imp thought a moment before asking, "Malanga, you said Malanga earlier, aye?"
"Aye, she was the leader of the crew of reinforcements. We've set her up to be the new Grog Mistress in Boucher's stead. A shame she's not around to instruct the lass, but she seems to be getting a long fine and makes a mean rum."
(http://img174.imageshack.us/img174/7995/malangaqb2.jpg)
Imp smiled and took a drink, wondering if Boucher had made this batch or the new girl, Malanga.
"There are about 10 other faces ye've not mentioned, Cap," Imp stated, pressing her.
"We'll get to them in due time, lad. We've finally finished work on the ship and are about to head back out to sea. I'm just glad, ever so glad, to have you back on yer feet."
Imp noted that Kalen sounded overly relieved to have him back. 'Not that she wouldn't be a little relieved,' he corrected himself, 'but she's no sap. Why's she so buddy on me all the sudden?'
Before he could delve into it, Kalen described the work they'd recently completed.
(http://img151.imageshack.us/img151/2435/bellsmaw3dviewun9.jpg)
"Sounds wonderful cap, but, uh," Imp said, unafraid to broach the subject, "what's that got to do with me up and walkin' again?"
"Well," she responded, her eye twinkling, obviously glad to get to the part she'd been wanting, "we've set up the bunks for the new lads, and I've got a plan set out for 5 or so o' them to ... well, dammit, I need you to teach them to shoot," she burst out, slapping him hard on the shoulder. "You're the finest sniper this side o' a sea serpent and we've got about a wagonload full of goblin bone bolts waitin' to be shot at practice targets, but nothin' will help them more than if you lead the new squad. So, what do you say?"
"Hell yeah, cap!"
Kalen was taken aback by his instant response; she'd expected him to be reluctant after his ordeal on the sick bed. She shoved the thought out of her mind, though, remembering how he'd thought only seconds had passed. She beamed down at her marksman, sharp as ever, ready to work. "A fine fuckin' pirate you are, my boy," Kalen laughed, squeezing his shoulder hard. "So, what say we get to work?"
"Aye captain," Imp responded, rising to his feet. As he emerged onto the deck he took a deep breath, smelling the salty air blowing in from the sea and watched the hustle and bustle as dwarves scurried about, strapping down cargo and spooling up the sails for their journey.
"Aye."
'My own squad,' Imp thought, imagining the battles he'd missed, 'we could take out armies ...' Imp tried to imagine what Kalen had in mind, but shoved it away, heading up the stairs to get a view of the new barracks.
Peeking his head inside, he saw the massive piles of bolts laying around, accompanied by many new faces, the only of which he recognized was the little demon child, Barnacle.
(http://img149.imageshack.us/img149/2224/2rewbt6.jpg)
Stifling a shudder, he closed the door and headed up to the new sparring deck to check out the practice range.
(http://img120.imageshack.us/img120/1996/sniperdeckub2.jpg)
Running his calloused fingers across the bare oak of the target, not one single nick or gouge on it's smoothed surface, he nodded approvingly. Between these targets and the two on the main deck, he'd be able to straighten up some of these lubber's aim in no time.
Turning back to the ship, Imp felt the strange duality of being a stranger and being in control. He empathized with the captain for a moment, thinking of Bob and Boucher, imagining his own squad faced with tough decisions in battle.
Setting his thoughts aside, he went to the galley to join the rest of the crew and meet with old mates and new comrades, but was interrupted by a low and booming voice behind him.
"You better!"
Imp smiled, recognizing the surly viking before even turning to look. Sigurd enveloped him in a wall of muscle.
"MRRF'fff!"
"Sorry," Sigurd chuckled, releasing him. Imp, coughing and smiling, reached out his hand and patted the vikings massive bicep. His finger's touched on scars running swirls around the muscles and remembered Kalen's tale of his battle with an entire squad of lashers. Looking up into that wide and eager jovial grin, Imp would have no idea were it not for the tales of the harsh times this viking had seen. Sizing him up, Imp, and his recently inflated ego, were put back in their place. He was no master on this ship, just lucky to have compatriots like this dwarf, a Titan by any other name.
Releasing his touch from the viking's scarred arms, Imp tried to remember the last time he'd seen anything so tough, so hardened. Nothing in the mountain homes, not carved out of granite or forged out of steel compared to this warrior.
(http://img186.imageshack.us/img186/8972/sigurdgetshardqq0.jpg)
Sigurd left him on the deck, his massive axe never far from his shoulder, to join the lads for some grog. Imp, smiling and trying not to fall off the deck as the lumbering dwarf stomped below, settled in, glad to be back.
TO be continued etc etc, hehe.
Okay, sorry that took so long to come out. Now, for the matter at hand:
We have SEVEN, count them SEVEN new unclaimed dwarves on the ship. AlienChickenPie, othorocksmom, Kaelem Gaen, I've got all you guys set up with dwarves that seemed to fit, and after that, we've still got seven.
Now, if nobody claims the remaining seven, they will simply be cannon fodder and sparring dummies. Frankly, even if they ARE claimed they may very well still be. But on this ship, everybody is cannon fodder.
Hope you all enjoyed the story so far, and feel free to make a post if you'd like to claim a dwarf.
JoRo: Very sorry about Boucher, I really tried. Feel free to claim another, but I'll keep it to the first 7 to post a request.
Name him Akroma
he has a unhealthy obsession with gold, silver, jewels, and everything shiny, and can't wait to plunder some loot from the trading caravan
Oh, eh, one thing though. Apostrophes are not used in the plural of anything, unless there's a letter missing.
Damn... The storytelling is downright inspiring... But I can't even begin to start something else until I've sorted out the Woodsman and DnG!. You've done good work, mate.
I'll take a lady dwarf, preferably one who likes with a like of bolts or bronze colossi.
Nickname: Hypa
Profession: Marksdwarf
Nice story- good to see an unusual setting.
Kagus: Yes, I'm having to re-learn the English language from a form AND function standpoint so I am finding as I go over some of my posts that I do indeed mess up apostrophes and tenses and I'm sure plenty of other things. I'm learning again as I go so thank you for the helpful critique and I will try and put it to practice!
Splime: Aye, I had no idea how much work a "moment" would entail, gathering up all the screenshots and other stuff, but, thanks for bearing with me and checking back =)
Tigerbunny & martinuzz, don't worry about it, the ship will (man, HOPEFULLY) still be afloat when ye get time to check it out =)
Okay so during the process of naming, I discovered something horrible:
Out of the 7, only ONE of them was male =/ I've placed Akroma as the male as his request was chronologically first, but I've filled out the others into females, if anybody would like a name change to suit their new set of breasts please let me know, otherwise, I will forge ahead with the names given.
Akroma: 'Akroma', Male Scoundrel
Jamini: 'Hypa', Female Buccaneer (my re-wording of Marksdwarf)
Silveron: 'Giken'(dwarven for lightning), Female Buccaneer
Toaster: 'Salty', Female Buccaneer
This leaves us with 3 unclaimed females.
I'm going to compile the current profiles for EVERY dwarf on the ship who has been claimed, so hang out a second and I'll post them up.
I'd love a dwarf by the name of "Ruby", female.
A proud sort, somehow got persuaded by a friend that this would be just the right sort of place for a young dwarf looking for some action, but she's been secretly regretting this ever since stepping foot on the ship and realizing how much work all this is. Plus, there's just not very much stone. How un-dwarfish.
Somewhat broody and hard to please, and lazy as stone itself when it comes to actually doing something productive, though not rebellious about it, she just needs a good kick and the space to grumble about it and Ruby'll get it done with some reasonable competence.
Would never back out this whole thing though... too stubborn for that... feh... ideally crossbow dwarf (she thinks she's less likely to get killed that way), but, on the other hand, Ruby loves a good landing party and any chance to actually walk on something that isn't a glorified pile of dead trees floating on salt water...
Of course, experience could change all this. ;)
Okay, gonna have to split the profiles into a couple of posts due to image restrictions:
Here we go!
***
Kalen sit's alone in her office, scribbling in her journal. She's taken to an obsessive habit of keeping track of the developments amongst the crews morale, ever watchful for the next mutineer.
She takes a moment to consider writing about herself in the journal, but thinks better of it. No need for the possiblity of the other dwarves getting their hands on it and learning of her own personal problems. Chewing on her quill a moment, she does reflect on the past years work:
(http://img527.imageshack.us/img527/3425/kalenprofilezl9.jpg)
The caged goblin swordsman next to her hisses something foreign and she offers it a swift kick to the knuckles, still wrapped around the cage bars. Delighting in it's yelp, she turns back to her journal.
Fishgut Led has been a less than formal acquaintance and most of what she knows about him was not learned at the pillow or in the bunk but garnered from Skipper, her official emissary to the crew. Led, like her, and many others, is ready for death and willing to face it.
(http://img168.imageshack.us/img168/1883/fishgutprofileiq0.jpg)
Horatio, however, ever the pessimist, is in less high spirits but hardly a danger to her rule. Socially he is a bit of an anchor to the less civilized ways of the pirate life, which assists her in keeping order, and on the battlefield; he fights like a tentacle demon.
(http://img168.imageshack.us/img168/2734/horatioprofileos2.jpg)
Jaina, Horatio's lover by chance and fate in battle, has been ecstatic since her recovery; reveling in the reconstruction of the ship, she has been nothing but a success and loyal crewdwarf since their journey began.
(http://img99.imageshack.us/img99/6069/jainaprofileay2.jpg)
Duncana has taken swiftly to the role of ships nurse in Boucher's stead. At first, she took her loss harshly, but through The Professors rapidly recovering strength and mind and the continued success of the urine still, she remains in high spirits.
(http://img522.imageshack.us/img522/8520/duncanaprofileos1.jpg)
Her lover, The Professor, has been of indispensable assistance at the charts as well as on the field of battle. He is a bit slow to respond, though Kalen is starting to respect his methodology for slowly, deliberately, and decisively conquering problems which have arisen on the ship.
(http://img149.imageshack.us/img149/995/professorprofilexi8.jpg)
Q-Tip has been quiet lately, but, Kalen notes; that is a good thing. Q-Tip seems to work best when her mind is busy and the pressure is piled on. Not one to be embarrassed or cowed in social situations, she has shown only a hint of her joy at Kalen's approval of a caged cow being constructed in her room. However, with Q-Tip, a hint of emotion can go a very long way.
(http://img529.imageshack.us/img529/1833/qtipprofilexd7.jpg)
Q-Tip's lover was wisely chosen. For a dwarven lass who does not show emotion easily, who better than the stoic viking. Sigurd is becoming known across the land and sea, mentioned PERSONALLY by the King in his letter of commendation and has been offered a governorship of a fledgling dwarven municipality. Kalen grumbles at this; unsure of whether or not to let him know. He will likely turn it down, but, his viking father was the leader of his tribe and Sigurd may wish to live in his tradition as he is highly respectful of such things. Kalen thinks a moment and decides it best not to inform him; she needs him. They ALL need him.
(http://img186.imageshack.us/img186/8972/sigurdgetshardqq0.jpg)
Bear with me; I'm getting through the older dwarves first, moving on down the line. Continuing on!
Name : Istria (F)/Istrian (M)
Labors enabled :
Hunter (After all you need someone to bring in meat when you are docked)
Job title : Scout
Kalen turns the page, licking the quill and dipping into the ink to carry on.
Imp. Grim, deadly, professional Imp. Close to death twice on this journey, Imp has shown he has a remarkable ability to rebound from tragedy, is quite sociable, sincere, and forthcoming. All valuable traits for a potential leader.
(http://img255.imageshack.us/img255/5949/impprofilexq2.jpg)
And then there is Skipper. Kalen sighs, refilling her quill, closing her eyes to think. Skipper, if anything, is sincere. Occasionally too sincere, but, he has found ways to make up for it with his decisiveness when she is not available. Kalen ponders a moment and decides she would not rather have any other dwarf as her executive officer. His love of dogs was what first drew her to place him in this position as he is just as loyal as his beloved pets.
(http://img516.imageshack.us/img516/3281/skipperprofilesd4.jpg)
Little Binty ... though rushed through her short and tragedy strewn childhood, Binty has asked for no-ones permission to be an active member on the ship. She required no instruction nor requested any compensation; she seems to live and breath the life she was thrust into. Kalen, smiling, can see herself reflected in the lass's eye's ... err, at least one of them. Kalen grins fondly writing notes about Binty's integration, a complete and resounding success, into the active crew lifestyle.
(http://img155.imageshack.us/img155/8447/bintyprofilecv9.jpg)
Tiny has been causing her problems. Minute, insignifigant problems, but problems none-the-less. His refusal to discard the disgusting piece of dwarf meat was, at first, a near mutinous act which she had considered either jailing or executing him for. Not out of vengeance or stubbornness on her part; Kalen just saw it as a way of solidifying her authority amongst the crew. However, she has come to be quite happy at her decision to leave him be. Not only has he shown that he can use that rotten chunk of flesh in remarkable ways on the battlefield (Kalen smiles remembering the way even goblins could not stomache the idea of being charged at by a brawler wielding rotten flesh), he has also been of great assistance on the deck. His inability to compromise must be dealt with, she notes, but due time will present such an opportunity.
(http://img255.imageshack.us/img255/3010/tinyprofilesf8.jpg)
Knifer, on the other hand, is still relatively unknown to both Kalen and Skipper. He, like Imp, was wounded and out of action for an extended period of time. Kalen notes her plans to slap a blade in his hand and see what he can do. He, like Fishgut, appears to have the makings of a cold and remorseless killer. 'Perfect', Kalen notes, briefly, differing to another time to gather more information about the recently recovered formal tribal dwarf.
(http://img262.imageshack.us/img262/6672/kniferprofileak9.jpg)
Barnacle, sweet and devilish Barnacle, has not shown a shred of remorse since the passing of her mother. If anything, she seems relieved. Kalen smiles, empathizing, again, seeing herself reflected in the young lasses ey-- Kalen stops herself in frustration. She touches her eyepatch gently, wishing for nothing more than to throw it off, or, better yet, strangle a bloody Kobold with it. Barnacle's rescue has been a huge relief in Kalen. She lives vicariously through the firey little girl. Kalen herself can never let her emotions show or her facade of leadership slip, so, seeing the young lass bounce about the deck like a firefly gives her no end of happiness.
(http://img151.imageshack.us/img151/5866/barnacleprofnr7.jpg)
Kai, the shifty eye'd fellow who somehow managed to outpace his other reinforcements, is an extremely even tempered fellow. Almost TOO even tempered. His desires are muted, and he does not seem to have a breaking point. Thus far, anyway. His sense of duty is unrivaled and he truly seems to enjoy being tasked with menial labor. Kalen notes extensively about him and has had Skipper keep an eye on him recently; his arrival, shrouded in mystery, offends her sensibilities. However, until he overtly shows some sort of activities which might indicate he is a spy, Kalen assumes, cautiously, that he is simply an over-achiever.
(http://img341.imageshack.us/img341/6054/kaixe9.jpg)
Malanga is the first of the new recruits to have settled in properly. Perhaps it was the role she so quickly stepped into, caring not for the legacy of Boucher but more for her own standings amongst the crew. She truly seems to care deeply for the booze she brews, slaving over it constantly and protecting her recipes as if the crew around her were kobold recipe snatchers. Despite her unwillingness to share in her distillery practices, she has adapted well. The urine still fascinates her and Kalen desperately hopes she does not try to experiment with it in relation to the booze. Oddly enough, Kalen ponders, Malanga has needed little instruction once she was pointed to her bunk. The lass is a born pirate, and the crew are glad to have her grog.
(http://img174.imageshack.us/img174/7995/malangaqb2.jpg)
[ March 18, 2008: Message edited by: othorocksmoms ]
Istrian: 'Istria', Scout
This leaves us with only ONE unclaimed dwarfette.
Onward:
Kalen ponders her newest recruits. She's sent out Skipper to gather information on them and he reports back continuously, but their temperaments are largely unknown.
Akroma has gotten situated quickly as he is sociable and relaxed. Kalen has an idea that in, perhaps a previous life, perhaps the current one, he was or is still a master thief. Her life sailing with scurvy salty dogs has given her a keen eye (She groans to herself, shaking her head) for the movements and ways of a thief. Far from being put off by this; She is glad. The older crewmates had given up their lust for loot long ago in favor of the cold and deadly wealth of battle. His eye for gems and metals will keep an anchor on the ship to guide them to plundering once again, something Kalen was nearly unwilling to bring up after her previous promises and oaths. Akroma has kindly opened the door for her, and she writes well of him in her log.
(http://img146.imageshack.us/img146/381/akromaprofileof4.jpg)
Hypa is ... well, Hypa is just that. Kalen can only assume her given dwarven name was Hyper, but she shortened it because she grew impatient. She is never more happy than when in the galley, sharing tales, rapid fire, with her crewmates. Imp personally recommended she join his forming squad of marksdwarves as she has the right stuff to rattle of bolts; providing he can find a way to tame her crazed enthusiasm.
(http://img151.imageshack.us/img151/4914/hypaprofilezg4.jpg)
Giken has cold and unforgiving eyes. Something haunts her past, another trait Kalen has come to recognize and rely on. She, like Hypa, will make a fine addition to the crows nest as her lack of pity will be very useful when dealing with the less obvious enemies, the humans and the elves.
(http://img523.imageshack.us/img523/7181/gikenprofilege7.jpg)
Salty is much like Giken, sharing her inability to show pity and a remarkable love for all things crossbow related. Kalen notes her willingness, enthusiasm, and aptitude for the role of a marksdwarf and is certain Imp will find her acceptable. Her self-discipline, combined with Imp's steady tutelage, will see her as a deadly force on the rails.
(http://img99.imageshack.us/img99/9664/saltyprofileur1.jpg)
Ruby is ... difficult. Imp insists that she be given a posting to his squad, though, Kalen cannot understand why. Frankly, Kalen cannot understand the girl at all. She's like a wall of granite; only way to go is around it. Unmoving and unconcerned, she may not even take the posting. 'Her stubbornness,' Kalen ponders, 'will be tested soon. Hopefully I shall not have to make an example of her, but, if she does well as a marksdwarf as Imp has predicted, I'm sure I can, like I have with the others, find a way to work with her ... on my OWN terms.'
(http://img391.imageshack.us/img391/1026/rubyprofileqq7.jpg)
Istria has volunteered to take a job hunting when we are at port; a fine thing to request, as, with Imp's duties keeping him confined to the training area's, none of the other dwarves seemed likely to offer to head ashore, save Fishgut, who would open the very pits himself if he thought there were fish on the other side. She's declined Imp's training in favor of learning the old fashioned way. On the hunt, in the wild, stalking her prey. Those skills, skills of ambush and disguise, will become equally handy in battle, Kalen notes, happily.
(http://img505.imageshack.us/img505/2154/istriaprofilenk4.jpg)
Nodding to herself, Kalen closes the book. Skipper has yet to report to her on the last remaining dwarf, whom Kalen has not had the time to meet with yet either. Should she not soon speak up, she may find herself nothing more than a bone hauler, perhaps an assistant to Malanga, or, better yet, Kalen could have Jaina craft a goblin mask and place it on her head to insight the mighty Sigurd to ignore his neck injuries and spar once more.
Only time, and the brutal fate of the sea, will tell.
Downing an entire mug of rum, Kalen grabs a letter on her desk. Popping off the wax seal, she see's that it is Duncanas calculations of their current wealth and supply levels. The new crew, 23, 'no, 22 and a half', Kalen corrects herself, smiling and thinking of Barnacle, will need plenty of food and booze on the dangerous mission ahead. Scanning it briefly, she is pleased, though she hopes to divert attention from their quest for revenge with a bit of old fashioned plundering soon. The new pirates will need to be welcomed to the lifestyle properly, she reasons.
(http://img524.imageshack.us/img524/9026/duncanareportys0.jpg)
Slipping the note into her locked desk, Kalen stands, heading to the map on the wall. Many 'X's are marked, some circled, some crossed off as their plotted journey zig-zags the unforgiving seas. She looks at a corner of the continent, no marks, no lines, no indication of her desire to head there. She will keep their next mission a secret even to Skipper. Her plans depend on the possibility of word of the King's request slipping into the open ears and loose lips of her crew, and should any of them turn out to be a spy, could spell disaster for her entire ship.
Pulling the King's letter from her blouse once more, she pulls out a flintlock and sparks the page, her eye intent upon the name he has scrawled in Elven on the crease of the page, a language he knows Kalen can secretly understand. Tentacles of fire leap up and claw at the name, the ink boiling under her gaze and the heat.
As the page dissolves to ash in her hands, the image of the name remains etched in her mind. Discarding the now minute strip of smoldering parchment to a stone bin nearby, Kalen adjusts her eyepatch and heads to the deck. She takes a moment to collect her thoughts and prepares story for what she would like them to think is their next target, but she cannot and will not forget the King's wishes.
Many will die in the quest for this. Kalen, a sturdy pirate, knows that the crew has little idea that they would be doing official bidding. She is content to let them see themselves as bandits, for, in many ways, they are. They gladly steal from fellow dwarves, but they do not know that the only reason they remain above reproach is because of promises Kalen had been forced to make at the hands of her King. 'My King,' she thinks, snorting, before shuddering a moment, remembering the sleep deprivation, starvation, dehydration and torture she'd met in captivity in the mountain homes. Worse yet, she remembers the oaths that her unwillingness to comply would leave her locked on land, no water in sight, for the rest of her days.
Clearing such thoughts from her mind, Kalen formulates a faux mission before heading to the deck. Never for a second, though, does she let that name, their real target, slip from her mind.
(http://img296.imageshack.us/img296/2413/rulerjx8.jpg)
[ March 18, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
I hope I didn't miss anybody, if I did, smack me around a bit with a carp and I'll straighten up and post it.
othorocksmoms: I'll try and get a movie up soon, definitely in the next update.
And now we have 1 female dwarf remaining and nobody on the waiting list. Make a post and I'll sell her cheap =)
Since childhood, Istria has had an obsessive interest in the hunt. Soon enough, the creatures populating the forests surrounding her native village became boring to hunt. Thus she decided to travel a fair bit around the world hunting the most exotic of creatures. She would always keep the pelt of the first creature of a kind she killed.
She is also known among the rich and powerful as a purveyor of rather unique services. The most challenging creatures she has hunted so far happened to be humans, elves, dwarves an goblins.
When she heard of a ship sailing around the many seas, she decided to join in. After all, who knows what kinds of creatures populate the islands and lands beyond the azure waters.
OOC : You can have her be a Tanner/Leatherworker when sailing.
It's amazing how tense watching an ASCII movie can be :D
I thought Imp was done for!
I've thoroughly enjoyed reading the updates, thanks for all your hard work.
[ March 19, 2008: Message edited by: Wiles ]
May her bolts fly true and well. ^^
Name:Stabby
Spear user/back up fisher
Likes to poke holes in things. Looks like a female, short, bearded, Pierce from those Zits comics.
Barnacle won her name when the pirates found her sticking to the pier in an attempt to hide from the murderous goblins and had considerable trouble removing her. Her parents were slaughtered by goblins, and this left her with an eagerness to slaughter goblins, nothing to lose and a pretty disturbing mind.
Barnacle is diminutive for her age, and Professor says she's likely to stay that
way. Perhaps her small size is the reason why the flame burning inside her so often brings her to a boil. This, along with her tempering (also known as "horrible mental disfigurment" outside pirate circles) makes her a very promising young pirate. She has already expressed her interest in crushing goblins with her fists, or with a pick at most "Because it keeps things personal better than any sword or hammer."
Barnacle's love for the morbid is manifested in the way she keeps her skin as white as a corpse and wears her many pigtails tapered into sharp horns resembling the ones adorning the demon that visits her in her dreams. Professor says it's just a phase, she says he doesn't fuckin' understand her.
Greiger: I'll get ye set up then, probably no update today, late in the evening if I get a chance at all, have a lot of homework I've been avoiding but I'll make sure we get you in and ready to rock.
Jamini: HA! Glad that worked out right, I had a feeling =)
And wb Wiles, and, I shared in your apprehension from a functional standpoint as, at the time, Imp was the only ranged weapon user on the entire ship 0.0. Glad we have some new crew now to back him up, should be fun!
Until the next update, AVAST ye scurvies, strong grog for all!
[ March 19, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
Freakin awesome stuff, by the way. LOVE the new and improved Bellsmaw. Keep this up!
EDIT: By the way, would it be possible to Post a map of Bellsmaw 2.0 on the map archive? I'd like to see some more of the interior details.
[ March 20, 2008: Message edited by: Impending Doom ]
1st, Granite, Early-Spring, 1062:
Skipper stood on the sparring deck overlooking the Bellsmaw, Imp at his shoulder. The two were prepared to follow Kalens instructions but both felt a twinge of pride at being selected to be squad leaders in the training of the new recruits.
Imp, standing supedwarvenly tall, beamed at his selection. Hypa, Istaria, Salty, Giken and Ruby were standing before him at attention. They each held a crossbow and had a quiver full of goblin bone bolts with blunted tips. He looked at them with trained eyes, watching their stance and balance as they stood on the deck, noting the directions he must take each one.
Skipper, at his left, stood a greater challenge. His selection to be squad leader had not been necessarily earned by merit, he had noted, as he was aware that every one of the older crew were handier with a weapon than he; they were just unable to participate due to lasting injuries.
In addition to his inability to summon the confidence required for his post due to the nature of his selection, Imp had been given special instructions for the new crew. He was to teach them a fighting style he knew nothing about.
Imp looked at Skipper and winked, slapping him on the back before going to take his trainees to a target in order to give them some initial pointers.
Skipper tried to fit a grin to his face but wasn't able to hold it. It didn't feel right. The trainees under him, Stabby, Akroma, Kai, Malanga, Binty, and Tiny looked upon him warily and he could tell he had his work cut out for him.
Drawing on his experiences from the time he'd spent on the ship, he reasoned that emulating Kalens behavior in the first days of the voyage would serve him well in this new venture. 'My first task,' he posited, trying to convince himself that he had become wise, 'is to get their respect.'
"Crew," Skipper announced, "How many of ye think ye know what it takes to be a proper pirate?" He let himself slip into an unfamiliar deckhand pidgin tongue, trying it out. It felt as awkward as his smile.
To his surprise, nearly every hand raised. "Uh...", he said haltingly, glancing over his shoulder at Imp, who was confidently enthralling his charges with instructions on tearing apart and repairing their weapons.
"Okay then, ye think ye'r hard, eh?" Skipper began. "You there!" He pointed at random into the crowd, "How would ye like te try'n take me on?" Visions of Kalen's lightning fast disarming of Sigurd on their first day on the deck playing in his mind, Skipper looked away, trying to act confident.
Not hearing a response, Skipper glanced back at them nervously. 'Oh no,' he thought as he saw Kai clearing the distance over the deck, his feet firmly gripping the planks as he navigated the bobbing surface with ease, 'Wait ... I can do this ...'.
Setting his feet, Skipper visualized letting Kai run into him and grappling his arm to toss him to the deck, or perhaps spinning him off towards one of Imp's charges. A moment before Kai reached him he relaxed, going over the move in a a flash, trying to look calm.
Before anyone could blink, it was over.
Well, not before ANYONE could blink. Skipper was blinking. Instead of looking down at Kai and smiling as he'd planned, he was watching the clouds drift slowly overhead. I seagull drafted the sails, hovering, while it seemed to look down at him with it's beady eyes before peeling off in disgust.
Laughter burst out on the deck. Shaking his head and starting to stand, Skipper struggled and slid back to the deck, something warm and wet under his behind. Looking down, he saw blood. 'My blood,' he thought, sighing, 'great.'
Skipper looked over and saw the Imp gaining order amongst his trainees, quickly commanding them to stop laughing, the sound of his voice hard as steel. Giving Skipper a plaintive glance, Imp gestured his head towards the other trainees, signaling that they were not under his charge and thus he would be out of line to try and quell their laughter.
Skipper, thinking quickly, began laughing. Another awkward, forced maneuver, but he saw a path and tried to follow it.
(http://img141.imageshack.us/img141/6637/skipperteachesbadlysm0.jpg)
"HA HA! See that, crew?" Skipper said haughtily, propping himself up on one elbow.
"He didn't even KILL me!"
Forcing another laugh, Skipper saw that the crew had indeed stopped laughing. They looked down on him with a mixture of pity and confusion, but he mistook it for a sign of respect. Judging dwarves emotions had never been Skippers strong suit.
'Perfect, I can do this ...' he thought.
Kai, standing over him, offered him a hand.
Skipper waved him off in an attempt to gain control from the prone position, not wanting to look as though he needed assistance.
"Now that I've shown you all how INEPT you are," Skipper barked forcefully, "Why don't you all begin with some wrestling matches. We'll give ye weapons if ye prove ye' can do any more harm than this pathetic waif," he shouted, gesturing up at Kai.
Imp, looking away from his instructions, shook his head silently.
As the slaps and thuds of dwarf meat rolling around on the deck above echoed out across the waves, Imp set his lads up to begin firing.
"Now," he said calmly, "Who do you think ye'll be shooting at from up in the crow's nest, then?"
Hypa barely let him complete his sentence, "GOBLINS!" She hopped up to her feet with a snarl, striking a menacing pose.
Imp had predicted this reaction and walked over to her swiftly, "THAT TARGET IS A GOBLIN SHOOT IT NOW!" he shouted into her ear.
Hypa fumbled with the crossbow, bringing it up, plinking off a shot.
The bolt whizzed harmlessly off the ship, disappearing into the waves below.
Imp's trainees looked amused. He turned to them and gave them an icy glare. "Tiny!" Tiny stood up, just inches below where the bolt had passed over his head, glaring at Hypa, holding his chunk of flesh like a bludgeon.
"YE NEARLY KILLED ME!" He shouted, furious.
Imp turned to Hypa, now looking down at the deck, knocking her toes together.
"Who did ye just shoot at, then, lass?"
"Tiny?", she asked hesitantly.
"Aye. Thankfully, ye missed both Tiny AND the goblin." Urging Hypa to take a seat back down on the planks, Imp turned to his dwarves. "When ye are up on that nest," he said, pointing skyward, eying each dwarf slowly, "ye will not be shootin' merely at goblins. Ye will be firing inches over the heads of your mates, and a hasty shot will do just as much damage to a dwarf as a goblin."
Pacing, Imp recanted his instructions from Kalen, "We are not here just to learn to place bolts in goblins, but to place them safely over the shoulders of our mates whilst they are in battle! These lads," he said, waving at Skippers crew rolling around the deck, biting and scratching at each other harmlessly, "will remain up here, sparring with us, for the duration of your training. Ye will learn to shoot in the heat of battle, though simulated, I want ye to remember what mistake Hypa has just made. Now, grab your crossbows and let's at it, and the first one o' you to strike dwarven flesh will be going back after the bolt Hypa just fired overboard."
Skipper watched in awe, imagining the ability to give such masterful instructions while holding a calm and collected demeanor. Mentally, he noted everything, from Imp's casual stance to his prepared and masterfully executed rebukes.
Thunks began to ring out as bolts whizzed over the dwarven heads roiling about on the sparring deck, crashing over one another like waves on the jagged rocks. The sounds of screams, creaking wood, and battle cries filtered down into the captains chambers two floors below.
Kalen stood with Fishgut, eye to eyes. "Okay then," she said calmly, "It's settled. Go and fetch Professor, Duncana, Q-Tip and Sigurd and do not tarry with the rest of the crew. This contract is to remain with us and, as we've decided, to our bloody graves."
Fishgut Led nodded and left her, the word 'contract' ringing harshly in his ears. He'd learned over the past year to deal with being a subordinate male in an unequal relationship, but his love for Kalen was unwavering. She'd given him everything he'd ever wanted and more, and now, was about to give something he'd never thought to expect from her.
Whispering into the ears of the dwarves he was sent out to contact, they each slowly and calmly began making their way up to the captains quarters, shifting inside silently. Q-Tip looked bewildered at the Captain's orders, but, she was too overjoyed to say anything. She merely looked upon Kalen's stoic face, her one eye glassed over and emotionless. 'How can she go through with this,' Q-Tip pondered, knowing Kalen to be made of nothing but steel and battle, 'how can she even possibly love enough?'
When Sigurd entered, The Professor on his heels, Q-Tip smiled broadly, her chest heaving. Her breasts were still strapped down, a callous order from a Captain she was only slowly learning to understand.
"Captain," Imp's voice rang out, as his footsteps thudded towards them from the deck below.
"Seat yourselves and look busy," Kalen ordered quietly before turning to the door, "Aye, mate?"
Imp popped open the door and peeked his head in, looking around, confused. The Professor, Duncana, Sigurd, Q-Tip and Fishgut were seated at nearby tables. Something looked wrong, but Imp swallowed his questions. He'd been trusted by the Captain enough to lead a squad, surely she would tell him if anything was amiss.
"Trainin's good Cap," he started, "but Istaria spotted something on a nearby island ... Kobolds rifling through the stocks we tossed overboard."
Kalen nodded. They'd been at sea for only a day and the island they'd been harvesting wood from was still not far off in the horizon. She'd ordered some less necessary supplies be tossed overboard in order to make room for their new crew, but had noted that they might return for it. A lie, of course; she believed they would not return from their journey at all, let alone to some woe begotten goblin filled piss pot like that one.
"Let them have it, we've bigger things to attend to. See that the lads are watched closely, I don't want to see anybody coming down with a bolt through the head, eh?"
Imp nodded, giving his mates another glance before closing the door and heading back out.
Kalen gestured at Professor to stand, in order to begin the ceremonies.
Little was said in the chambers, save for the required and traditional bits. As the thuds and thunks rang out above them, and as the Kobolds rifled through their previous belongings, the gathered crew began a solemn and secret task.
(http://img177.imageshack.us/img177/6412/weddingsbn5.jpg)
Kalen officiated the bonding of Duncana and The Professor, crassly reading off the note card Professor had prepared. His days in the temple of blight had burned the marriage ceremony into his mind, and his faith was chosen as the proper one to bind the souls of pirates sailing to an uncertain future.
After Duncana and Professor shared a brief kiss, looking into each others eyes a moment, their hands meeting to touch the Ashen rings slipped over each others fingers, Kalen cleared her throat and gestured for Fishgut Led to stand beside her.
The Professor, leaving Duncana to a seat, officiated over the next two bondings.
Kalen stared at him as he recited the oaths. 'No, not at me,' Professor noted, rattling off the memorized speech, 'through me.'
Fishgut was obviously filled with joy and pride as his greedy lips met Kalen's icy embrace, a modest and short acquaintance. Kalen's spine stiffened at the thought of any of her crew baring witness to her intimacy, but she knew it was a required part of the ceremony, and hoped that her participation would further grow a bond between them.
As Fishgut and Kalen went to sit, Q-Tip hopped up eagerly and extended her hand to the big viking. "C'mon, ye lug, let's do this. In battle, in bed, and in peace, we are ready."
Sigurd slowly rose. The lumbering viking, still clothed in his stripped and battle scarred leather and fur, reluctantly set his axe down at his chair, his fingertips loathe to leave it's comforting grasp.
During the officiations Sigurd left not one of his traditional viking prayers unsaid, under his breath, respectfully. Q-Tip was practically bouncing, her hand tightly grasped around his. As much of his as she could manage, her little paw a speck under his meaty fingers.
Sigurd swallowed his pride and looked down at Q-Tip. He recalled vividly his hastiness to impress the captain and the horrible wounds he'd inflicted on the young lass in the process. His brain, slowly chewing over ever detail of their past relationship, finally settled to the task at hand. He would not wed her out of pity or remorse or a sense of debt; he truly did love this lass. She reminded him of his mother, in many ways. Like Q-Tip, Sigurd's mother had not been a viking by birth, though her family would never admit it.
Lowering his proud visage, imagining his father holding a similar secret ceremony, he met Q-Tip's eyes firmly and gave her a willing and genuine smile. 'Viking way not pure,' he thought. His mind moved slowly, but it moved with the slow deliberate pace of a mule on a guide, never faltering, testing each step and ensuring its individual wisdom before proceeding. 'Viking way', he continued, 'fraught with death and destruction. Life short,' he thought, remembering his fathers guttural words of wisdom imparted upon him when he'd left his tribe to earn his chops, 'Viking hard,' he thought, his mind slowly and surely plodding down the path through his fathers words as he gently gripped Q-Tip's soft hand, 'Without softness is no hardness, without coolness is no fire."
The Professor, aware that he was being ignored by the two he was marrying, hurried a bit, skipping to the good part.
"By the mistress of death and under her watchful gaze, ye two embark on a journey to the grave. Rot, pestilence and famine be yours, together ye shall hold it, forever and more." He placed his hand over theirs, entwined, and urged them to finish the ceremony. Stooping low, Sigurd kissed the perky Q-Tip's lips softly, her upturned nose disappearing under his mountainous nostrils and swirling tendrils of braided beard.
Kalen stood swiftly, "Good work Professor," she started, cutting short Q-Tip's long awaited moment of official intimacy, "but we must return to the ship before the crew becomes suspicious. Speak of this to no-one. There is no place for love on a pirate ship, and we have all, together, broken a prime rule. Surely we will suffer from this," she continued, "but the decision was made and the act is completed. Now, we must carry on."
The crew filtered out of her quarters, Fishgut leaving last, looking over his shoulder to give her a smile.
Kalen brought up her hand hesitantly, "Led," she said, her voice strong but her eye showing the softness he'd come to crave, "give Tiny your bunk, the crew know of you and I and will not be suspicious. There's plenty room in here for the both of us."
"Aye, Kale-- Captain," Led corrected himself before closing the door, an earth shattering grin cracked across his face.
Kalen sighed as they left, uncertain about the future of the ship. Perhaps it was not worth it. A risk, to be sure. 'Bah,' she reasoned, 'Risks be damned. We breath risk every time we come on the deck. Life, particularly the lives of those on this ship, are short,' she thought, remembering Bob and Boucher fondly, saddened that the two lovers had never been given a chance to perform the ceremony. 'We've no choice but to continue.'
Kalen sat at her desk and began writing in her journal, distracted and pleased by the sounds of pain and combat playing out over her head.
[ March 20, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
I did, however, manage to figure out how to upload a map of the region.
http://mkv25.net/dfma/map-2335-bellsmaw
The stuff on land is all remnants of the village I had used to complete construction of the ship, which was held to a minimum of refinement and, in retrospect, I'm quite lucky to have survived for 8 years with such a meager settlement.
The engravings were all made by migrants who were waiting to die of dehydration due to not being allowed on the ship. I'm sure they're all quite horrifying =)
Also, othorocksmoms had requested a movie of life on the ship, and this one is fitting as it shows the new recruits training and practicing with their crossbows as well as the breadth of the ship.
http://mkv25.net/dfma/movie-442-lifeonthebellsmawchapter2
[ March 20, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
quote:
Originally posted by DuncanFrost:
<STRONG>I notice there's a statue in the water, in front of the ship. It looks suspiciously like Bob's old statue. :p</STRONG>
No, it's not, I moved Bob's statue to Kalen's room near her tables with another statue on the other side to commemorate Boucher. A captain must always be reminded of the losses she has sufferedl but the crew must move on.
That statue was from the wayyy early days of construction when the bow of the ship had a much different look and was collapsed into the ocean because I couldn't reach it to remove it. Pretty sure it wasn't pleased about that because it took 2 of my ship building dwarves down with it if I recall correctly =)
[ March 21, 2008: Message edited by: valcon ]
Hmm... I wonder how much longer till I get more piratey goodness
Just signing in to poke the thread. I hope the Bellsmaw hasn't become a ghost ship.
absolutely great! i just can't see the third deck, main deck and captain's quarters. any chance of that?
