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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Sareth
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Re: Airship Pirates, Chapter 1: Isabel

Post by Sareth »

"A."

"A, sir."

"T."

"T, sir."

"L."

"L, sir."

"E."

"E... You could just give me the message, sir."

Captain Rackham glared at the signalman standing on the bridge next to him with the semaphore. He chewed on something for a moment, then shrugged. "Fine. Send, 'At least I have a mother.' Got it?"

"Yes, sir." The signalman began blinking away at the other ship.

"Very clever, sir," Kattie replied.

The Captain turned around, and saw Reyn standing there, blinking. "Who in the name of Luminosita is that, Kattie?"

The first officer turned and looked. "Crewman Reyn, sir. Able airman. He signed on last night."

"Was he sober?"

"Not a lick, sir."

"Good! I like that in an airman!" The Captain smiled, patted Reyn on the shoulder, then stumped the three steps to his quarters. "Make sure to set a good watch, Kattie! Dinner should be in half a bell, and dark not long after. I wouldn't put it past those fairweather pirates over there to try something sneaky during the night."

"Aye, sir," Kattie acknowledged as Rackham closed the door to his cabin, then turned to Reyn. "Well, now that you're sober, or at least not passed out in the hold, the crew quarters are aft. Pick a bunk. The galley is behind that. Go help the new cook get dinner served up. Let him know he has 15 minutes, and then I'm turning the crew loose on him."
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Re: Airship Pirates, Chapter 1: Isabel

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The sun was setting as there was a distinct lurch in the airship's flight, felt more strongly by Rip in his crow's nest than by anyone else, except Thurston, of course.

"What was that, boss?" the parrot asked.

"Trim change," Rip explained. "Caused by a sudden shift in weights and balance. Since the holds are empty, there's only one thing on board massive enough to cause that."

"You mean ..."

"Right. Shorty's coming up to relieve us."

So he was. The vast mound of flesh slowly squeezed through the hatch into the observation post, barely giving Rip and Thurston enough room to get out of the place. Information was exchanged (not much happening yet apart from the rival ship out there, continuing to blink insults at the Bonny Read), Shorty settled in for the next watch, and Rip and his familiar made their way down to the main compartment.

That was interesting; there appeared to be more people on board than he was expecting. Evidently the crew advertisement had accomplished something. "I don't know many of you people," Rip said. "Let me introduce myself. I'm Rupert Ricordiel, but everybody calls me Rip or Ripcord. This animated feather duster on my shoulder is my ... friend ... Thurston. Now who, exactly, are you all?"

[OOC: New characters, here's your cue...]
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Reavey
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Re: Airship Pirates, Chapter 1: Isabel

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Reyn had listened without thinking and had already took a few steps away before what he had been told sunk in and he sopped dead. What had he been thinking to sign up to be a crew member on an airship? He almost asked -what was her name, Kattie that was it- how he could go about getting off as soon as possible. However there was something about the place that stopped him. He had a feeling that if he wanted to he could get off whenever he wished, they simply would not land before letting him disembark.

He sighed and was about to go and do as he had been instructed when Rip made his entry. Deciding it was probably best not to ignore someone who was likely to be a seasoned crewman Reyn turned to face the man.

"My name is Reyn Argan." He said, "I'm a musician by preference though apparently I've become an airman for the time being." That seemed to be enough for politeness sake for now. "If you'll excuse me I need to store my stuff and help the cook." With that he turned and quickly headed aft to where the crew's quarters were supposed to be.

It did not take him too long to find them and pick out a seemingly empty bunk. Before leaving to find the galley he made a quick inspection of his gear. His first concern was for his violin but it seemed to be okay, nothing was obviously broken at least though he would need a chance to check properly. The rifle was in similar condition but he had never really known how to tell anyway, all he actually knew was how to keep it clean, whenever it stopped working he had needed to find a specialist to help.

Satisfied for now he made his way further back to find the galley. The thought of having to deal with food brought a wave on nausea and he had to grit his teeth and fight down the urge to be sick. Knowing that he was supposed to eat in a mere fifteen minutes did not help either. Before long he found what he presumed was the galley. It looked like an ordinary kitchen except that everything was more securely attached to the walls that he had ever seen before. There was a young man wearing an over-sized chef's hat who was looking over at him; he had to be the cook Reyn had been sent to help.

"I've been sent to tell you that you have fifteen minutes before the crew are supposed to eat." He said, "Also I've been sent to help you. I can't say I know a lot about cooking but I'm competent enough so long as you tell me what to do."
Last edited by Reavey on August 3rd, 2009, 7:59 am, edited 1 time in total.
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Re: Airship Pirates, Chapter 1: Isabel

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[OOC: Alright, I'm going to get started, then. Just need to establish myself...]

You get all kinds in Isabel, many of them a bit lost until they get their bearings on the place. Some of them like to be lost, so that they can never be found. In this person's case, it was actually a bit of both. Let's pull back to a few hours ago or something.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A Few Hours Ago Or Something...

He liked to wander, for reasons like...seeking special opportunities, picking his next targets around town, finding a place to sleep off the problems of the day and/or guards that were looking for him... Mostly, he did it so that people would ask him stupid questions. For instance, if a man came up to him and asked whether or not he was of the Emerylon church solely on the basis of his traveling robe (You know, like an idiot.), he would not calmly explain to the man the mistake he was making. This was not how he operated. Instead, he would lie out his ass and accept - nay, twist his arm - for a 'willing' donation to the Church of Garlock's Spending Money.

Any man who would think a hooded traveler in dark attire like him - the traveling robe notwithstanding - was a member of the church deserved whatever he got. You especially don't confuse people whose face you can't see and...totally look in style...with the church, seriously. This only happened...a couple of times. They were fun, but not as good as the man who bumped into him on the street and received his own personal fog-bank around his head. Last he saw, that man was in a brawl for bumping into someone short-tempered and drunk. Garlock was a traveler, versed in sorcery. He didn't show his face and nobody really cared. It was the name he was playing on, anyway. You'll see.

He was heading into The Happy Hookah now, because other places had scanning fields placed on the doorway that flashed when he entered, with unruly bartenders saying "Hey! We don't serve their kind here!", pointing to his cat. It was a normal-sized black feline, magically charged as an indication that it was a familiar, which was what the 'tenders hated. So, fine. He'd burn them down some night, when they think they're having a good night. 'Till then, Happy Hookah. The bartender here only glared for a moment as the cat stared back, daring him to make some smarmy comment while latched onto the magus' shoulder. After ordering a drink, the bartender asked...

"So, what's your name, son?"

Garlock replied, not drinking anything yet, "Garlock The Destroyer."

He was very nonchalant about this.

"Right... Of course it is."

"No, seriously. Garlock The Destroyer. I displace the aether of the astral plane with arcane rituals to concentrate supernatural forces into disruptive events."

"You what?"

"I cast spells, make things explode. People need that and I'm looking for the opportunity to do so."

"Oh, well then you want that."

The cat looked before the man did. A nailed up advertisement for 'adventurers'...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now...

And here he was. Garlock had headed almost directly for the Tower and noticed Shorty almost immediately, as he was the tallest one there. (He'd previously met some particularly husky fellows named Tiny and Speck.) He told Shorty that he was here to kick ass and chew a fruit-flavored snack-food, and Shorty explained to him that they didn't have any of that Tsuirakuan candy-stuff here. He'd been waiting patiently in the main section of the airship ever since. He'd been eerily quiet, the familiar offering up the occasional cat-call here and there.

As soon as Rip came down, there was some stifled guffawing in Garlock's general direction.

"A parrot. You have an actual talking parrot on board a ship. Priceless."

The red-eyed cat seemed to find Thurston interesting, giving him a look from around the magus' feet. Clearing his throat, he introduced himself and the cat, speaking in a business-like manner as he did so.

"My name's Garlock. I destroy things for money. Or, in fact, I leave them intact for same. Normally, that puts me into Public Relations, but since they won't hire me... Hello!"

The funny thing is that you'd be surprised how quickly the gold flows once you start beating up the terrain.

"Put simply, I sell my magery where it is needed, or whatever. The cat is Mittens. He does not eat birds...anymore. Don't ask."

Personal possessions on the traveling man appeared to be kept on his person, with little trouble keeping track of them.
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Re: Airship Pirates, Chapter 1: Isabel

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Rip looked Garlock (and Mittens) up and down. The man was Tsuirakuan, clearly, which was interesting; he'd never been on a crew with another Tsuirakuan before, although he'd had one or two sign on for raids where he himself had stayed home. "Nice meeting you," he said neutrally. "I'm Rip."

"RAAWWK. I'm Thurston," the parrot chimed in. "I don't eat cats, either ... any more."

"Now, now, be good company," Rip scolded his familiar, then turned back to Garlock. "You'll have to excuse this fellow. He gets a little snippy without his cigars. He does have his uses, though. I can tell from your accent that you're from the same place that I am. What brings you here?"
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Re: Airship Pirates, Chapter 1: Isabel

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"Dinner," came a firm, feminine voice from behind them. "At least, that's what brings most of us to the mess. Step aside." As the two made room, Kattie stepped past them, and glowered towards the galley. "Is that slop ready yet, or do I feed you to the crew!" she called, though the answer seemed ready enough by the pots, kettles, and trays lining the window between the galley and the mess. Nodding her approval, she turned and slapped a crystal embedded in the bulkhead alongside the forward hatch. "MESS!"

Within seconds old hands were pouring into the place like someone had dumped them out of a sack, jockeying for position in line.

"Eat up," Kattie said with a smile, then took her place at the front of the line. "Make way so I can grab the Captain's dinner." Soon she walked out, carrying a plate full of food and a large tankard. She returned in less than two minutes, then settled in a seat at one of the tables, eyeing the line as though debating joining it, or waiting for it to thin.

[OOC]Assume everybody that's anybody is at dinner at this point, except the Captain. So conversations can take place from anyone, to anyone, including NPCs people feel like introducing.[/OOC]
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Re: Airship Pirates, Chapter 1: Isabel

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So that's why the bird smelled funny. He wondered...

"When you don't belong anywhere, you tend to go everywhere. In my case, I go where the money is and work on my abilities as I go. I suppose I want a name for myself, but I think I also do it just 'cause it's fun."

He let off a deep snicker, giving the impression that he meant that it was fun for him, not the people on the receiving end.

"You know what I mean, like where a man giving chase suddenly finds himself naked, with his sword cut in half, and he's surrounded by fire. Turn someone's world upside down and they'll give you a look that'd have the greatest dullard in stitches. One thing, though..."

And this is where his mood changed to a tone of annoyance. It seemed that he switched those rather quickly, because throughout all of this, something back at the tavern irked him.

"Who's idea was it to inscribe 'mage wimps' on that advert, hmm? We're not all light-weight chumps, you know. 'Least I'm not."

You couldn't tell, but Garlock was glaring narrowly at him now. Before an answer was given, someone interrupted with the call for dinner (Kattie) and then there was the louder shout of "MESS!". This immediately threw the warlock's attitude into a one-eighty as he shrugged and headed off to go dine. There was nothing eventful here about getting the food. Garlock took, sat, and ate. However, in the middle of the meal, he started passing things down to the cat while asking...

"Where are we headed, anyway?"
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Re: Airship Pirates, Chapter 1: Isabel

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"Mage wimps? My idea, actually," Shorty said, easing his vast bulk in between Rip and Garlock. (Whew, thought Rip; this wasn't the time or place for a pair of mages to get into a brawl.) "A good qualification for airship crew is that you be able to laugh at yourself. If you can't, everyone else will be glad to do it for you ... but it won't work as well."

Rip was always amused at how little Shorty ate. That humongous body seemed to run on air, or something; he'd taken less in the chow line than Thurston had (or, at least, less than Rip had taken for his parrot, who had no hands). Three bites, and he rose without a sound and headed back to the crow's nest, having been gone no more than about two minutes.

"So ... where were we?" Rip said once Shorty had cleared out. "You were wondering where we were going, right? I'm not the skipper, but if I read the tea leaves right, there's an archaeological dig about 200 miles south of here that our pigeon is probably on the way to. If we time it right, we'll get there just about at sunrise ... and then there'll be some good hunting." He busied himself with the chow, thinking that the skinny kid was a lot better at this food business than they had any right to expect him to be.
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Re: Airship Pirates, Chapter 1: Isabel

Post by Arreksu »

Tom was struggling with a loaf of "bread," when his help to be arrived. It was a tall guy with hints of fancy-pants-ness to his clothing [Reyn], but he seemed a decent enough fellow. Apparently not into cooking. The could serve to be a problem.

"Uhm... if you could, maybe? It would great if you would, uhm, open the third oven and pull out the baked potatoes and cut them open? There's a knife over on the cutting board."

The man did as was asked, with a little reluctance. Cutting the rather tough potatoes open, he dumped a slice of margarine into the cuts and Tom drizzled something that looked a bit like grated spring onions and tasted pretty close to it, too.

"Right!" Tom cried happily. "Meal's done!" He surveyed the spread proudly, lined up on the counter between the mess-hall and the galley. The tall man stood beside him, looking a little green in the face. "Are you all right? Uhm, if you don't mind my asking...?" Tom asked, back to his usual, meek self.

"Bit of a hangover," the man grunted. "I'm Reyn, by the way."

"Tom Brambil, nice to meet you. I know a thing for overhangs. Never had 'em myself, but Master Tucker at the boarding house used to beat me and then throw up on me if I didn't make him something on Friday mornings." Tom scuttled over to the cupboards. He busied himself over a glass for a few moments before returning to the man. "'s called a 'Pray for the Oyster,' I think..."

Reyn looked down at the horrendous concoction, involving a raw egg, some tobasco-like sauce and an pepper and rushed from the galley holding his belly and mouth.

Tom smiled to himself proudly, dumping the 'drink' down the drain. "Works every time." He paused to turn the plates on the counter just right so they'd look most appealing from the mess-hall. Nice guy, he didn't hit me or anything.

------------
From the mess, all that could be seen over the counter were the glowering, angry eyes of Tom, his enormous chef's hat, and the top half of the metal spoon he clutched tightly in his right hand.

"Oi! You lout! One potatoe, I said," he hollered, the spoon shooting out like a python to strike the crewmember's hand away. "It says so on the sign!" The spoon whipped about to indicate a piece of paper with "Wun PuTAyTo oWunLEE" written on it in big black letters.

The stew had been a great hit, especially with the captain, who asked for an extra clove of garlic in his. The bread wasn't quite so popular, but it worked; if you shaved the crust off, you could use the slightly less solid part inside to soak up the stew, so it was okay.

"But I only got a little one," the crewmember complained. "Go on, cook..."

"Chef!" Tom yelled, spoon waving menacingly under the man's nose.

"Chef, sorry, sorry, chef. Go on, then, chef, just another little one?"

The metal spoon stabbed at the sign again, and the crewmember wandered off muttering under his breath. A loaf of "bread" hit him in the back of the head.

"Have some bread!" Tom said, angry eyes still the only thing visible on his face. Except the huge chef's hat, of course.
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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Kattie was spooning up the last of the stew before her appreciatively when an errant bread roll came out of the blue, beaned a crewman in the back of the head, did a slow ricochet through the air, then landed on the table before her. The resounding clang of the shockingly heavy and solid baked good caused her to arch an eyebrow and glance towards the galley, where she could see the hat (and little else) of the diminutive cook bobbing, a spoon emerging to gesture at the sign with its... unique spelling once again.

"I like him. He's going to fit right in." Her smile was radiant as she picked up the roll, eyed it for a moment, then sent it spinning to intersect with the head of another crewman, who managed to mutter a quick "Thank you, ma'am, may I have another" before his eyes rolled into the back of his head and he slid out of his chair onto the floor.
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