Airship Pirates, Chapter 1: Isabel

For in-universe game play. Journey through both familiar and foreign settings, explore lost ruins and forgotten cities, and try to bring light to the darkness of the world... or, you know, blow stuff up. Either way.
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Arreksu
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Re: Airship Pirates, Chapter 1: Isabel

Post by Arreksu »

"No food fights!" Tom squeaked in a panic, spoon stabbing at the sign under the potatoe one reading "noWuh fAiyTin WiV Thu FooD." But it was too late.
Very well, I accept. Twizzlers at dawn 'pon the field of honour.
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Reavey
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Re: Airship Pirates, Chapter 1: Isabel

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Rushing through the airship Reyn managed to find and open a window just before his stomach emptied itself of its meagre contents. As he leant against the edge of the window groaning and coughing he promised himself that if Tom even suggested he actually drink that foul concoction he had created he would force it down the boy's throat and see how he liked it. He did feel marginally better though even if his head did still feel like it was trying to tear itself apart.

Presently he pulled his head back inside and closed the window before making his way back towards the mess hall. He still did not feel like eating anything but he was determined to try and he definitely needed a drink to clear the burning in his throat. When he did get back into the mess he was approaching the galley where he could see there was still some food left along with Tom's hat and eyes bobbing up and down, just passing by the table where Kattie was sitting, when he heard Tom's shrill yell just before a ballistic roll caught him on the side of the head. Reyn swore violently as the pain in his head seemingly multiplied ten-fold and for a moment he was seeing double.

Immediately he bent down picked up the offending roll and hurled it back where he thought it had come from. Before the inevitable retaliation came he grabbed the nearest empty seat and sat down putting a few people between him and the table he had thrown the roll at eyeing the air for any more flying rolls.
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Re: Airship Pirates, Chapter 1: Isabel

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Rip rolled his eyes; he was getting a bit old for food fights. Still, the sociologist in him rationalized, they did serve a purpose when it came to keeping the crew loose (and giving Kattie and Wrackham some excuses to kick ass, which had its own value). He quietly and surreptitiously cast two Mini-Barrier spells, one enclosing his cranium, the other ... some other essentials. This accomplished, he grabbed a roll that had bounced near him and casually, almost diffidently, lofted it back into the fray.

He wasn't completely prepared for the missile of manna, the rye rocket, the projectile of pumpernickel that came whistling back at him. Somebody at the next table had a big-time arm. The ballista-borne bread thumped off the cranial Barrier and caught Thurston square in the gizzard. The parrot fell to the ground, squawking and cursing colorfully in each of the eleven known languages he could translate in, plus maybe a few others.

Well, better him than me, Rip thought as he reached for another roll.
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Re: Airship Pirates, Chapter 1: Isabel

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"I prefer slapstick, myself."

Shorty said, "What? Knocking people 'round, pies in the face, and all that?"

"And setting people's asses on fire, sure."

Nobody said that mage of the arcane rites had to have the most sophisticated humor. Then again, if it was Shorty's idea, it made sense. His name implied that he certainly did laugh at himself on occasion. In any case, Garlock found himself more interested in the where-are-we-going than anything else after the big man left. He was no archaeologist, but going to one of their digs for the sort of reasons that 'adventurers' go to digs for sounded good. It wouldbe interesting to see what was down there instead of always wading through town after town. Granted, there was use in that, but airship travel would at least get him farther, faster.

He was going to say something when an oven-baked projectile came soaring in his direction and he stopped it in mid-air with a shout that sort of went "Huttah!". Both he and the cat (The cat's sorta' hanging off the edge of the table.) looked at it, hovering there.

"I thought only dwarves ever made lethal bread. Oh well. I'll see your bread...and raise ya two!"

Taking both it and his own roll, Garlock flung the breads in opposite directions.
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Re: Airship Pirates, Chapter 1: Isabel

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[OOC:
Garlock wrote:"I prefer slapstick, myself."

Shorty said, "What? Knocking people 'round, pies in the face, and all that?"... Then again, if it was Shorty's idea, it made sense. His name implied that he certainly did laugh at himself on occasion. In any case, Garlock found himself more interested in the where-are-we-going than anything else after the big man left.
Confused here. Hadn't Shorty already gone back to the crow's nest by the time the food fight started? Might you have meant Kattie? Anyway:]

This is more fun than I thought it would be, Rip thought as he dodged another roll. I wonder... It had been a long time since he'd used spellcraft for anything other than mending the airship or minor combat, like the Mini-Barriers. Was there anything in his magical arsenal that might make this little escapade more fun? Aha.

The roll that had felled Thurston (who was quite sensibly cowering under the table by now) had split open; just the kind of thing a Mending spell could work on. Now if I just combine the mending with a wee bit of form manipulation ... There. Perfect.

He held in his hand a small, but perfectly formed and aerodynamic, cream pie.

He was just winding up to hurl this food-fight Ultimate Weapon when there was a screech from the general direction of the captain's quarters that could shatter fine china, if they'd had any on board. "ALL HANDS ON DECK!" Well, nobody could blame him if he reflexively launched the pie out of surprise ... could they?

The pie impacted on a large man at the next table with a sploosh as Rip assumed a posture of attention.
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Re: Airship Pirates, Chapter 1: Isabel

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At the sound of the captain's bellow Kattie shot upright. "You heard the man!" She then casually dumped her stein over the head of a crewman shuffling to his feet. "All hands on deck! Move!" And with that she proceeded in an orderly fashion, managing to avoid slipping in beer, stew, or rolls like ball bearings once. As the crew assembled behind her, she casually stood leaning against the corner of one of the double bunks.

The Captain, who looked no less eccentric under way than he did when first he came aboard, eyed the assembled crew men. He casually plucked a garland from behind the ear of one sailor, dropping it to the deck, then plucked part of a garlic clove from another's hair, sniffing it appreciatively.

"Men," he said. "Women," he nodded towards Kattie. "Women pretending to be men," he nodded to Thurston, who rolled his eyes but chose to not be a talking parrot at that moment. "Many a privateer has made one key and critical mistake when after a prize. They tried to take the prize from the people that were meaning to take it from the place it's been moldering. But us! Not us! We're smart. We're going to take it from them as took it from them as are taking it from them as are about to take it."

In the silence that followed, several crew men could be heard shuffling their feet, several others could be noted scratching their heads, and Tiny could be noted picking his nose. In spite of the fact he was in the crow's nest. Don't ask the narrator how, he doesn't know either.

"Um... Captain?" one of the crewmen dared. "I'm not sure I understand."

"And that's the beauty of it!" Captain Rackham declared. "Crew dismissed!" He turned, popped the garlic into his mouth, and walked back into his cabin.

The crew looked bewildered. "Um... Ma'am?" the questioner asked, turning to Kattie.

Sighing, Kattie shrugged, and quietly explained. "He means that a group of archeologists are about to loot some sort of ancient site. Rather than running in and trying to loot it first, he means to let them loot it. Then he means to let the Queen Alice loot them. Then he'll loot the Queen Alice."

"OOOOOOOOoooooooooooh," the crew replied as one.

"I knew the Captain would come up with a plan!" one of the sailors said, smiling.

"Well, that's good, right?" another responded.

"Possible you're not recalling some of his previous plans," Kattie quipped, then sent a roll winging off to ricochet off the bulkhead and knock the crewman who'd started the whole mess out again. "Somebody wake him up, he's on watch in 20 minutes."
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Reavey
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Re: Airship Pirates, Chapter 1: Isabel

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Reyn wiped a smear of stew from his face as the crew began to disperse muttering amongst themselves. Judging by the general tone most of the crew were used to the captain's way of thinking though going by Kattie's comment his plans had yielded some interesting results in the past. The plan itself made little sense; why wait until the Queen Alice attacked the archaeologists before attacking it? Surely the time when they were trying to escape with the artefacts was when they were going to be most alert.

Shrugging Reyn turned to head to his bunk. He doubted that the captain would take kindly to anyone criticising his plan; especially an ordinary crew member like him. He had taken a few steps before he felt a hand on his shoulder. Turning around he found the hand belonged to an unfamiliar crewman.

"You're Reyn right?" The man asked,

"Yeah that's me." Reyn responded, "What is it?"

"You're on second watch, you've got four hours until it begins." With that the other man left. Sighing Reyn continued onwards. At least he would be able to get some sleep before he was due on watch.
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Re: Airship Pirates, Chapter 1: Isabel

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Pie!

Oh wait, they were being called off. Damn. He could've conjured up a confection or two himself, but...work's work. Someone called them to attention and before you know it, Kattie was shouting orders. Reluctantly, the magus stood along with the rest of them to see what the hell was going on. Part of being a pirate here was apparently coming when the master called, like a dog. This left the red-eyed cat to climb aboard the table, look around, and proclaim in a deep voice "This stew lacked abundant meat.".

Meanwhile, the mage stood with the rest of the crew, arms crossed and hooded face watching this captain like a hawk as he addressed them. Garlock imagined...a ruse about this captain. A loose cannon, but...hmmm. He sounded like a ruddy nutcase, but it may have been that he was quite clever and that he was only pretending to be a lunatic. His plan DID have some merit...once someone made it make sense.

"So, we intend to let the archaeologists suffer, the competition work to get the stuff, and then attack without mercy?"

One of the crewman spoke up, saying "That would be the idea.".

"Just curious. Is there one among us called Belloq?"

A resounding "No." was his response.

"Just checking. I'll be below, tempting fate."

One might ask what sort of fate he was tempting, or whose, but he didn't bother to stand around when he was up to something. Garlock ended up wandering downstairs, into the forward gun room, where there was a man on duty.

"Ah, hear we are... The guns."

The man on duty looks at him. "Lemme guess. New guy? Do me a favor and STAY AWAY from the guns."

"Oh, come on. I just want a quick looksee. I'll only fire it once."

"You'll fire it nonce. Er, none at all. For one thing, you haven't been cleared. And on another, the last idiot who tried to fool around down here set one off while we were in port."

"Ouch. What happened?"

He shrugged. "Nothing. Wasn't loaded. But I kicked his arse for it. Kick yours too, if'n you're not wise."

"Relax. Winding you up. I'm just familiarizing myself with this ship. I'd hate to be the one that doesn't know what to do when someone called Battle Stations. Between you and my, I think the new cook boy will be the one for that."

They laughed, since Tom didn't seem to have...you know...pirate really in him.
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Re: Airship Pirates, Chapter 1: Isabel

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After cowering under the counter while hell broke loose in his mess-hall, yes, that's right, his mess-hall, Tom looked over the bread-roll devastated room with a sad eye. Odds are, he'd have to clean it up himself. With a sigh, he acknowledged the Captain's call to attention.

The man seemed insane. Tom'd seen some people like him, mostly asleep or mumbling in the soup-kitchens, doorways and gutters of the Port. It was hard to do anything but feel sorry for them, unless they mistook you for a flying avocado and tried stabbing you in the gut, but Tom'd gotten pretty good at not looking like flying avocados during his time as a street-urchin.

This one, however, seemed to have control of his insanity. It even appeared that there was a kind of rhyme or reason to his madness. He seemed to know what he was doing, even if no one else did. He also commanded a vessel with people like First Mate Scary Lady aboard it, so perhaps he wasn't going to send them screaming into the abyss on some fool errand, like trying to harness the energy of the Swimming Monkey God or something. Veracia had enough religious fanaticism for the world without crazy airship pirate captains.

Returning to the kitchen, he set about cleaning up a bit. A cat briefly complained about the contents of the soup, but after the talking, cigar-smoking parrot, Tom just said something along the lines of "Oh, yes, right, very sorry, sir, I'll get right on it, sir, terribly sorry, please don't hurt me," or some such.
Very well, I accept. Twizzlers at dawn 'pon the field of honour.
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Re: Airship Pirates, Chapter 1: Isabel

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One of the advantages of drawing the "dog shift" in the crow's nest was that a good night's sleep was possible -- once the mess in the galley was cleaned up, of course. Rip headed straight for his bunk and was half way asleep already when Thurston spoke up. "Hey, boss?"

"Mrlmph?" Best Rip could do under the circumstances.

"I just had a thought. These elven ruins we're headin' for ... what if they got elves in 'em?"

Remarkably enough, Rip had had the same thought earlier, and had an answer ready. "Then we're glad the Queen Ass' Revenge gets there before we do, 'cause then the elves shoot her down, not us."

"Oh." Thurston thought about it for long enough that Rip was heading back for sleep, then spoke again. "Boss? You figure the skipper thought of that when he decided to let them hit the place first?"

It was hard to produce a deep sigh while sinking into a bunk, but Rip managed. "I don't know, Thurston. He might have; he might not. I'm not going to worry about it. Time for you to go to sleep too ... and remember, no smoking in bed."
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