Skull and Shackles Session 24: Port Peril Part 2

Tsadok Goldtooth reappeared at the Crisis shortly after lunch. Another crowd of onlookers all waiting to be entertained gathered rapidly.  Feruzi shook her head.  "We are certainly attracting a lot of attention with this."

Goldtooth ignored her and addressed himself to Chopper.  "Have someone bring up a table and chairs."  Chopper gave a negligent wave and snapped his fingers.  After several seconds of blank staring, Dar and Marteen ran off to fetch the table and chairs from the chartroom, nearly the only real furniture aboard the Crisis.  "Who am I playing?" Goldtooth growled.

"That would be myself, Mr. Goldtooth,"  Reiko informed him.

"This is my first mate, Nakayama Reiko," Chopper added.  Reiko's chin came up just about to Goldtooth's belt buckle as the half-orc scrutinized her.

"All right, then," he said finally and waved a dwarf from his own crew forward, followed by a couple of swabs hauling a keg of rum.  "Argus, the two of us, and nobody else at the table.  Argus will be dealing."  Reiko bowed politely to the dwarf, who was nearly as tall as she was, if much broader.  His thick, heavy-jointed hands strongly resembled building equipment, but he handled the cards deftly.

"Should I check the rum, Captain?" Ezikial muttered. 

"Aye, do that."

"Mr. Goldtooth," Ezikial called.  "Do you mind if I check the rum before you start?"

"Afraid we're trying to poison the winner, Mister . . . ?"

"Ezikial Hands.  I am something of a connoisseur."

"Ezikial . . . Hands?"  Goldtooth lingered over the name.  "If you must, then by all means.  I expect you will have much to discuss with the King . . . should you win an audience with him."

Ezikial took a dipper of the rum, sniffed it appreciatively, then drank it off.  "I will not deny that, Mr. Goldtooth.  I almost wish I were playing just for the rum, Reiko-san.  Besmara's luck to you."

Argus set out a hundred platinum coins in small stacks in front of Goldtooth then looked expectantly at Reiko.

"You mentioned that you brought along a moneychanger?" Reiko said smoothly.  The dwarf nodded and they bent their heads together to dicker, finally settling on a sum of coins and small jewels as equivalent stake and exchanging them for the platinum coins.  Goldtooth and Reiko each threw in their ante and Argus dealt the cards.

 Goldtooth examined his hand. "I bet one," he said, nonchalant.

"I'll see you," Reiko replied.

"Call, then."  Goldtooth showed his cards, but Reiko's hand was the superior.  She raked in the pot and a glass of rum, drinking it off with some coughing but no other apparent effects.  The game continued, Goldtooth again betting a single platinum.

"I'll see you, and raise you one," Reiko told him.

"Very well.  Call."  They showed cards again and once again, Reiko's hand was superior.  Goldtooth's visage darkened as Argus passed over the pot and the glass.

"I ne'er took Reiko fer a gambler, Cap'n," Sandara murmured.  "How come it's her up there?"

"Cos she can read people.  Handy skill in this company.  That, and she's tougher than she looks for her size.  Tends to make folk underestimate her."

Reiko turned the glass upside-down on the table and picked up her new hand.  Goldtooth again bid one.  Reiko pondered her cards for an overly long time, then decided to see the bet.  Goldtooth called and they showed cards, the half-orc taking this hand and drinking the glass.

"I bet five," Goldtooth growled after surveying his new hand.

"I'll fold this hand, Mr. Goldtooth," Reiko said, smiling innocently.  The half-orc grimaced and took his second shot of rum.

"I bid three."

"I'll see that," Reiko told him.

"Call."  A draw this time, and no rum for anyone.

"You are quite the conservative bidder.  A man who knows how to use the cards in his favor," Reiko remarked.  Goldtooth scowled at his hand and folded, forfeiting the ante.  Something was clearly upsetting him--he took the deck from Argus, cursing the dwarf for being bad luck--and began dealing for himself.  "You win some, you lose some," Reiko told him and downed her third glass of rum.  "What are you doing?  Mr. Argus was an excellent dealer."

"I'm all in,"  Goldtooth growled.  Reiko smiled.

"Sure, I'll call you."  Goldtooth revealed his hand and Reiko did the same.  A hush fell as the onlookers totted the cards up in their heads.  Then Argus, still standing near the table, gestured toward Reiko as the winner.  The crowd erupted into chaotic applause.  Reiko stood and bowed formally to Goldtooth, who reached out to begin collecting his stake.  Reiko placed her hand on her hilt.

"I am pretty sure I won that money fair and square, Mr. Goldtooth."

The half-orc froze.  "This was just a friendly game for show.  Not for real stakes."

"That is not true.  If we had lost, you would have deemed us unworthy to meet with the King."

He seemed to consider, then shrugged.  "Fair enough.  You play well, Nakayama Reiko.  And drink like a real pirate, for that matter."

Reiko smiled and bowed, saying quietly, "And I won't say anything about Mr. Argus's slippery fingers, either."

"Do we keep the keg, too?" Ezikial demanded. 

"Good question!" Rosie yelled, backing his play.  Reiko held out a platinum piece.

"For the keg.  I know the crew will enjoy it."

Goldtooth waved her away.  "No.  Thank you, but no. Keep it as my gift."

"So, was it best two out of three, Mister Goldtooth?" Chopper called up. "Satisfied?"

"Yes, Captain Chopper, two out of three is good. But I would still see you tested in battle.  You and your officers.  We'll be back in an hour. Have the rest of your crew off the ship; it will fall to the four of you to defend the Crisis from a . . . boarding party."

"Am I allowed to kill them this time, Captain?" Ezikial asked.  Chopper's eyebrows rose.

"CAN you shoot to stun?"

"No."

"We could slime the rails, maybe?" Chopper mused as the crew filtered off the ship.

"With?" Reiko asked.

"Blood?" was Ezikial's instant response, getting an eye-roll from Reiko.

"Ask Mister Kroop. I dunno. I figure just shoot 'em a lot and any that make it through that, Reiko'll deal with. I'll draw their ire, as is standard."

Feruzi corralled Fishguts and Rosie and they came up with a plan involving a resource easily had in bulk on the docks--disgusting rotted fish.  They positioned a few barrel-loads in a net and suspended it above the gangplank for easy access.  Then they left the ship with only Chopper, Reiko, Feruzi and Ezikial still aboard.  Feruzi climbed to the crow's nest while Ezikial, Reiko, and Chopper took up positions at the rail.

Goldtooth and his crew returned, wheeling a very large covered cage up the dock to the Crisis.  Something underneath the canvas bellowed in rage.

"Whatever that is, it can't be good," Reiko breathed.

"Would-be Free Captains!" Goldtooth bellowed. "Take your positions!"

"Yeah, we got 'em. Let's get this over with," Chopper replied.

Goldtooth nodded to his crew, who backed away quickly.  The half-orc yanked on the canvas, revealing a hideous flabby giant that waddled out of the cage.  It looked like some kind of aquatic giant, with repulsive slimy gray skin and dead, fish-like eyes.  "Kill them," Goldtooth ordered, then hurried back up the dock.  The giant let loose a roar, its mouth so enormous that its head seemed to split in two.

"I'm beginning to dislike that half-orc," Feruzi announced loudly.

"Naw, he's all right," Chopper told her, drawing his cutlass.

"The comparison to Plugg is not in his favor at this point."

Ezikial kicked the release on the deck ballista, launching a heavy bolt at the giant that imbedded in its monstrous gut, bringing on another furious bellow.  It seemed the bolt struck nothing vital, though, because the giant kept coming, clapping its hands and summoning a cloud of dense fog, concealing it as it leapt across the water to land in front of Chopper, who hacked at it with his cutlass.

"Get off my ship!"

Arrows peppered the giant's shoulders as Feruzi tried to pull it away from Chopper.  Ezikial fired, the bullet glancing off bone. 

"Stand down now and we will not kill you!" Reiko shouted, but the giant ignored her so she charged its back and clubbed it in the middle of its spine with the hilt of her katana.  It staggered heavily, but hauled itself back to its feet, slamming Reiko with its fists and sending her reeling backward.  Chopper swarmed onto it in retaliation with cutlass and axe, bringing it to the ground, wheezing but alive.  The crowd gathered on the dock erupted into loud cheers for the third time.

"If you would come retrieve this big lump, Mr. Goldtooth?" Reiko called.  The half-orc approached, clearly nonplussed.  Chopper saw movement above him and realized Feruzi was taking aim at the unused sack of dead fish.  Chopper kicked a stay repeatedly to get her attention and scowled pointedly at her.

"Leave it!"  Clearly reluctant, Feruzi put her bow down and sulked in the rigging.

"Still alive," Goldtooth said, stopping beside the giant.  "Good news for the arena we borrowed him from."

"Well, there was no sense in killing him for a "test", Mr. Goldtooth."

"Though he would have shown no mercy to you?" Tsadok half-asked Reiko. "Interesting."

"Not all killing is honorable, Mr. Goldtooth."

"Actually, if he'd like to join the crew..." Chopper began.

"OH HELL NO!" Feruzi yelled, furious.  "Don't we have some sort of King to meet?"

"Yes, yes," the half-orc said, walking back to the dock to make his announcements.  Behind him, Feruzi climbed down to the deck.

"You should have let me fish him," she told Chopper.

"The hell for?  We won.  Why fish up the right-hand man of the pirate king?"

"Because I don't like him, that's why."

"And yet you don't want to rescue the giant from him?  I don't understand you."

"Rescue!  That thing tried to eat you.  You think it's intelligent enough to comprehend rescue?"

"Correction, it tried to eat Reiko."

"Reiko can take care of herself."

"And it can use magic!  Yeah, I think it might comprehend rescue."

"Fine, suit yourself."

"No, forget it, I thought I was getting an Owlbear vibe.  Clearly, I was mistaken."

"They're not ALL nice . . ."

Tsadok Goldtooth addressed the crowd.  "I proclaim the Crisis crew to indeed be deserving of becoming Free Captains of the Shackles!"  Wild applause.  "Hurricane King Kerdak Bonefist will grant them their letters of marque this very evening!"  Much less applause.  Goldtooth nodded to Chopper.  "I will see you at Fort Hazard after sundown."  He sauntered away and the crowd gradually dispersed.

"I'll be back before then, Captain," Reiko said, and also wandered off into the crowd.  Ezikial went below and Feruzi tackled the chore of disposing of the dead fish.

Fort Hazard rose from the sea cliffs above Port Peril, housing the Shackles' limited government and the lighthouse known as Besmara's Beacon, calling ships to safety and to the opposite, depending on their standing with the current Hurricane King.  Captains drawing within sight of Lucrehold were known to tally up their recent favors in case they inadvertently angered the King, a course sure to leave their ship impaled on the shoals if they were unwary.

Chopper assembled his officers on the deck: Reiko, Ezikial, and Feruzi as usual, but also Leila, Sandara, and Fishguts decided to come along.  The revelry was already in full swing when they arrived at the Fort, the tables laden with roasted meat and flagons of ale, the people decked out in their finest pirate togs.  Tsadok Goldtooth spotted them almost immediately and came to greet them.

"We have a table up front for you."  It was small enough to be almost invisible, but right across from the gold-chased teakwood throne that was currently unoccupied.  Chopper sat down and dug right in to the offerings of food and booze, followed by the rest of his crew, although Feruzi was clearly uncomfortable.

"Whassa matter?" Sandara asked her, slapping some butter onto a bowl of potatoes.

"She's got a plug up her--ahoy, Captains!" Chopper started, then turned around to yell at someone in the crowd.

"My friends!" Captain Pegsworthy replied once he was in shouting distance, Tatsumi following him closely.  "So fortuitous that we should be in Port Peril to witness this moment!"

"Fortunate, indeed. Can you sit a while?" Chopper gestured at the empty seat next to Feruzi, who winced.

"There is nowhere I would rather be, my good Captain."  The pair of them settled at the table, which was now rather crowded.  Pegsworthy leaned across Feruzi to grasp a tankard and she suddenly remembered herself, grabbing the Eagle-Claw from under the bench and nearly knocking Pegsworthy over with it, producing an awkward silence and a furious glare from Chopper.

"Could you not . . . just now . . . ?" he hissed.  Feruzi winced again and slid the bow back under the bench.

"Um.  Sorry."

Pegsworthy looked baffled, but recovered magnificently, waving his tankard toward Chopper.  "Free Captains.  I congratulate you.  Tell me, will you be competing in the Regatta?"

 "We might," Chopper said, leaving off glaring at Feruzi for now. "Tell me ... more."

"It's... a race through the edges of the Eye of Abendego, which we have every year. A Free Captain can win fame and fortune, as well as lordship of an island... and a seat on the Pirate Council.  The field's wide open for the first time in years!"

"Oh, right! The Master of the Gales isn't runnin' this year, is 'e?" Sandara said.  Chopper smiled at her benevolently, glad that some of his crew could remember their manners.

"Aye, lass," said Pegsworthy.  "He's judging instead of participating this year.  Five straight wins was enough, apparently."

"Sporting of him.  I have an island, me," Chopper mused, "but a seat on the Council, you say...?"

"It ain't th' easiest or safest way t' gain power or influence in th' Shackles, but damn if it ain't th' quickest," Fishguts told him.

"Crisis ain't seen much easy nor safe in her short life, so this seems a good next step."

"Have you raced before?" Feruzi asked, glancing at Pegsworthy.  "It seems . . . frivolous."

"Frivolous?!" Chopper demanded.

"Well, is this the best way to choose a leader?  Racing?  In a hurricane no less?  Are ships not destroyed?"

"Do not the strongest, fastest, most capable Mwangi rule?"  Chopper asked.

"Feruzi is hardly an authority on all the Mwangi, but her father leads because he leads the warriors to victory, not because he is the best in battle," she replied stiffly.

"Victory, exactly!"

"It is not the same!"

"It is meant to make the Council a meritocracy," Pegsworthy interrupted her in an attempt to be conciliatory.  "Ruled by the most skilled pirates."  His tone made it sure he considered it a dubious proposition, however.  "We will not be running ourselves this year, but that is no reason why you should not."

"We're heading out tomorrow morning," Tatsumi explained. "We were going to leave tonight, but we couldn't miss this."

"I'm so glad to see you here, then." Reiko told him.  "Think you can spare some time for me tonight? I have some... things... I need to talk to you about. Of course, right this moment is not the time."

"Of course, Reiko-chan," Tatsumi said, grinning, his smile so infectious that even Feruzi smiled back, faintly.  Seeing her relax, Pegsworthy attempted to gain her attention.

"I see you got my gif--" he then froze as Kerdak Bonefist walked past their table.  A big, bluff man with long black hair and beard, Bonefist looked more pirate than king.  He waved a skeletal right hand toward the crowd as he climbed into the throne, deep in his cups already.

"Quiet," the King rumbled, producing no response.  "Quiet!" he yelled. "QUIET! EVERYBODY SHUT UP!"  Most ignored him.  Finally, he whipped out his pistol and fired it into the ceiling.  The thunderous echo gave way to silence.  The Crisis officers, sitting nearest the throne, flinched away from the noise, nearly overturning one of the benches.  Feruzi found herself almost in Pegsworthy's lap as they struggled to sort themselves out.  Bonefist glared around the room, then assumed a somewhat more benevolent expression and waved his pistol at their table.

"Tel me yer names."

Chopper stood up and bowed.  "I am Captain Chopper, and these are my crew."  Moving quickly, he pointed them each out in turn and introduced them.

"Hands?" Bonefist demanded when Ezikial's turn came.

"Sir," Ezikial responded formally.

"Are ye Israel Hands' whelp, Mr. Hands?"

 "So I am led to believe."

Bonefist grinned.  "Well, don't that just beat all. Israel Hands was my first mate before Goldtooth here. An' a finer brother in arms a buccaneer ne'er hand, no mistake! Yer sea-blooded, son, that's fer sure an' fer certain."

"Aye."

Bonefist turned away, waving his pistol like a baton.  "This fresh catch of scallywags want ter add their fine ship to our brethren o' the sea, but afore I go awardin' 'em a letter of marque an' make 'em Free Captains, I says we 'ear from 'em first!"  His gaze sharpened on Chopper and the room seemed to grow darker.  "Tell us a tale or two of how ye came by the plunder in yer hold."

Chopper blinked, and Reiko hurriedly rose from her seat, tugging on his arm.  "Captain, let me, please."  Chopper gestured permission and sat back down.  Reiko smoothed her kimono and bowed twice, first to Bonefist and second to the assembled pirates.

"If it please you, pirate lords and ladies, our plunder derives from many sources, some known to you, some perhaps not.  We have faced sahuagin, Chelish slavers, and demonic beasts, setting out from Tidewater Rock--"

"Oh, this lot cracked the Rock?  A likely tale!" someone shouted from the crowd.

"We did indeed, although not how you might think.  Sometimes the heart can conquer what no force of arms can achieve."  Chopper rolled his eyes.  The heckler seemed ready to disagree, but the sight of Ezikial and Feruzi fingering their weapons proved enough of a distraction.  "I will not bore you with the details.  Our chief exploits lie in gaining the treasures of two notable captains:  Whalebone Pilk and Cyrus Wolfe."

"Oh, ye fought Pilk, did ye?  You an' everone else in tha room!  'E's like weeds, cut 'im down an' e' comes right back!"

"While for most this is true, we discovered the source of Pilk's curse and managed to end his depredations for all time."

"Aye, an' ye danced wit' tha king o' hell, too!"

"If you doubt it, we would be happy to show you the wheel of the Deathknell, now decorating our ship." Reiko smiled pleasantly.  "Our second notable triumph took us to Mancatcher Cove, where we defeated Cyrus Wolfe's infamous beast and found the cache of his treasure."

"Lots o' pirates 'ave dug up this or that cache," a deep voice rumbled.

"Not the big one in Mancatcher cove, I am afraid."

"Do yer give me the lie, little girl?" A huge form rose to its feet somewhere in the middle of the room.  Ezikial fired his pistol, exploding a tankard, and the creature--man, woman, or something else--resumed its seat.  Reiko smoothed her kimono again.

"There is a great deal more, of course, such as sabotaging a Chelish man-o-war . . ."

Bonefist grinned.  "A little bird told me that there's a Chelish bounty on your heads.  Now I know why."

"Oooh... we have a bounty on our heads? How nice."  Reiko smiled.

"So, ye scurvy dogs, what be it, aye or nay?"

"AYE!" bellowed most of the room.  Bonefist smiled.

"Aye.  Aye indeed."  He reached into his coat and drew out a roll of parchment.  "On my authority as Hurricane King, I, Kerdak Bonefist, do give ye this letter of marque, makin ye Free Captains of the Shackles, entitled to all privileges and duties thereof."  He passed the parchment to Chopper, who held it up to the applause of the crowd.  "Now were we gonna have a PARTY or what?!"

The following morning, Chopper flinched at the sound of knocking.  On the third try, he flopped out of his hammock and went to open the door, revealing the spotty and nervous face of Simmed.

"Begging yer pardon, Captain, but there's a message for  you."

"Why am I still wearing pants?" Chopper asked, looking down at himself.

"Um . . ."

"Never mind, never mind.  What's this message?"  Simmed handed him a scroll.  Chopper cracked the seal and focused his bleary eyes.

"Please come to dinner at my townhouse in Eastwind tomorrow.  We have much to discuss.  Yours, Tessa Fairwind."

Business Chaos

It never ceases to amaze me how disorganized most businesses are.  Everything from getting employee schedules correct to locating a dang mop can be an incredible exercise in frustration.  Yet, when you order things out in an organized fashion there doesn't seem to be all that much to manage.  Why is it so hard?  Here's a sample layout for my current job, for instance:

Stuff that needs managing

I.  Employees (this is the biggest area regardless of business type because every single employee is their own individual chaos tornado)

• Performance
• Training
• Payroll/taxes/benefits (overlaps with general accounting)
• Hiring
• Emergency
• Uniforms/protective equipment
• Workplace safety
• Complaints/problems
• Workman's comp
• Scheduling/time logging/vacation
• Some kind of employee appreciation party thing because these are apparently mandatory nowadays
• certifications for those who need them

II. Physical Plant (which is nearly always broken in some way)

• Electrical/lighting
• Water (this one area alone is for some reason equivalent in terms of pure chaos to managing the invasion of Stalingrad--plumbing/drainage is Deep Magic and can at any time cause the total destruction of any part of your physical plant)
• Security
• Maintenance (cleaning/repairs)
• Trash (Disposal/recycling)
• Pest Control
• Equipment (loaders etc.)
• Parking
• Computer systems
• Physical records
• disaster recovery
• laundry
• Displays/shelving

III.  Inventory (the biggest problem with this area is that in effect it's managed by everyone in the entire company all at once so there has to be a comprehensive system pretty much from the get go just to keep this under control--even then, stuff's just going to randomly disappear like you installed a black hole somewhere in the store)

• Security/shrink
• merchandising/layouts/pricing
• purchasing/receiving/ordering
• labeling
• processing/packaging/serving
• vendors
• customer requests
• store supplies (trash bags, paper towels, soap refills etc. etc. etc. ad nauseum)
• Inspections

IV. Marketing

• Advertisements
• Signage/displays
• sales
• customer loyalty program
• website
• buncha random PR crap like charities and community programs etc.
• samples/giveaways
• clearance/markdowns/"please buy this before we have to throw it out and write it off"

V. Customers 

• Security
• Emergency
• complaints
• requests
• kill file (okay, not really, but you'll wish you had one sometimes)

 VI. Accounting (overlaps with every other area)

• Budget
• Payroll/taxes (these are together because usually the biggest tax headache at a store like this IS the payroll taxes--everything else is handled at the corporate level)
• Benfits
• Purchasing
• Bills/repairs
• Various forms of insurance too numerous to list

VII. Compliance

• a buncha regulatory compliance junk

So, it's a long list, but the thing is that almost all of this stuff can be dealt with very quickly and efficiently if you just have a process in place and follow the dang thing.  Some of them can be almost completely automated but they almost never are.  Heck, some places I've worked there was no such thing as a customer complaint or request system, which baffles me.  Customers ALWAYS make complaints and requests, and scribbling it down on whatever random piece of paper happens to be nearby in the hopes that someone will notice it after you've gone home at the end of your shift is no way to follow through on this stuff.  Physical plant maintenance also seems to get blown off a lot.  There's certainly little to no process other than "go hunt down a manager and complain".

Maybe I'm weird, but as far as I'm concerned "hunt down a manager and complain" is not a process.  Managers are busy and distracted.  You're lucky if they remember your issue much less do anything about it.  Heck, I've had questions as simple as "where are the paper towels?" get routed through three or four people before getting resolved.  THIS IS INEFFICIENT.  You know what would be efficient?  A.) having a designated central paper towel stashing site B.) write on the dispenser "refills are in upstairs closet third shelf" or words to that effect.  That way if a customer corrals whatever random employee is passing by to refill the paper towels, they know instantly where said paper towels are at and can handle the issue without looking like a buffoon.  The thing is, you can use the same process for everything in the store that has a refill.  Soap?  Write it on the dispenser.  Garbage bags?  Write it on the dispenser.  This also helps with inventory because you don't have 47 individual stacks of paper towels hidden in various locations and no clue how many you actually have on hand.  So, not only have you saved time and money and prevented buffoonage, nobody has to call the overworked manager to harass him/her.  EVERYBODY WINS.

Stop making more work for yourselves, people.

Skull and Shackles Session 23: Port Peril part 1

"His Kingliness, Kerdak Bonefist, has consented to an audience tomorrow night, Captain Sir," Conchobar declaimed, posing next to their table at the Riptide Alehouse in Port Peril.  The gnome had to raise his voice to be heard over the exuberant crowd.  "Since we don't have the sponsorship of a recognized Free Captain, we're likely to undergo 'Testing'."

"Bring it on," was Chopper's response.  Reiko shrugged.

"It would be convenient if Captain Bloodmourn were in port."

"Would she sponsor us?" Feruzi asked.

"Probably, although I would have to talk to her first.  And she would want to meet Captain Chopper and the rest of you."

Feruzi eyed Chopper for a moment.  "Well . . . perhaps it's better she is not here."  Reiko smirked.

"I'm sure she'd appreciate his unique personality."

"That would be a first, then," Ezikial growled.  Chopper replied with a friendly grin.

"You're lucky I'm not convinced you won't shoot me, Mister Hands."

"Are you convinced I won't shoot you, then?" Feruzi demanded.

"Mostly.  Pretty sure it annoys you every time I am obstinate enough to get myself shot."

"Well I wouldn't want you to think I was getting soft. One of these days I'll have a chance to pay back that debt and you can go get yourself shot with my blessing."

"Well, I already have plans to re-up muh policy with your honor, should it ever come t'that."

"We'll see.  So is there anything special we should do to get ready for this meeting tomorrow?

"Don't go dying before hand?"  Reiko offered.  Or getting yourself killed, as it were.  That might look unprofessional."

Feruzi shrugged. "In my nation, formally meeting a King has more . . . significance. Or so I hear.  My own meeting was not so formal."

"I shouldn't worry overmuch. A king's just a man, same as any other. A might more prickly about respect, mayhap, but I can mind m'manners if and when the occasion calls for it," Chopper informed them.

"Pirates ne'er stood much on formailty," Sandara said. "E'en the ones in charge."

Chopper nodded. "I'm counting on it.  Who's this now?" he added as a tall, lean man with tousled blond hair and an eyepatch muscled up to their table.  His clothes were simple but fine, and he carried himself like a fencer.

"Captain Pierce Jerrell of the Salty Flagon," the newcomer announced, smiling expansively.  "Meeting the Hurricane King already!  I congratulate you on your success, my friends."  He had a lilting accent that hailed from nowhere in the Shackles.

"Captain Chopper of Crisis," Chopper replied, offering his hand and moving over to make space at their table.  Jerrell sat without needing further invitation.   

"Captain Jerrell, where about are you from originally, if you don't mind me asking?"

"I don't mind at all, milady. Druma, originally, the port of Detmer.  Came to the Shackles courtesy of dissident priests of Cayden Cailean."

"Oh? I like Cayden Cailean, me.  Or like what I've heard of him, anyway," Chopper told him.

"Then you MUST have a drink with me,"  Jerrell told him.  "I've had a series of successes on the Fever Sea, and it only seems fitting to share."

"We ain't done half bad our own selves. Lemme buy the next round," Chopper told him, taking a deep swallow from the mug that appeared.

"I have a good feeling about you lot," Jerrell told them.  "And I try to respect such things.  The King's not so bad.  Not as popular as he was in the day, but he HAS been keeping things running for almost forty years.  I'll have to make my way up there and see how it goes for you."  Jerrell's eyes roved over the party while he talked, taking in each of the officers in turn.  Ezikial gave him the stink-eye--assuming that wasn't just his normal expression.  Feruzi shrugged, but Reiko seemed distracted by something in the crowd.  She glanced at Sandara, then stood up and quickly moved off into the crowd.  Ezikial's face tightened and he ducked his head to whisper.

"Caulky Tarroon is here."  Reiko was too short to be visible in the crowd, but a disturbance of sorts began as several drinks were upset.  A woman stared into her mug, then shouted loudly if indistinctly and hurled the mug over her shoulder--straight into the face of a rough-looking buccaneer.

"Oh, bugger me," Chopper muttered.  The buccaneer roared and lurched to his feet, throwing a punch in the woman's direction but missing and pasting a bystander instead.  Reiko jumped back from the rapidly-growing brawl and Caulky erupted from the crowd, heading for the back stairs that led to the balcony.  Ezikial took off after her, jumping from table to table, and fired at her retreating back, the bullet punching a hole in the studded leather she wore.  She staggered but did not stop; at the top of the stairs she smashed into a stack of barrels that shifted ominously.  Caulky kicked at them viciously until they began to move, thundering down the stairs and knocking Ezikial off his feet.  A nearby brawler kicked the pistol out of his hand.  Reiko charged up behind him, jumped the barrels, and sprinted up the stairs.

"If you stop now, you won't die by our hands!"

Feruzi watched the chase, then stepped onto their table and executed an impressive standing jump to grab a chandelier.  She swarmed rapidly up the chain and then ran across the ceiling, her new footwear providing magical purchase and letting her jump to the balcony ahead of Caulky, cutting off the cabin girl's escape.

"Get 'er, Feruzi!" Chopper bellowed.  He elbowed Pierce, who was fending off brawlers with bursts of light and color.  "That's muh platonic life partner!"  Chopper took another drink and reached over to acquire Feruzi's full mug, using his own to bludgeon away at the brawlers.

Caulky hissed and rushed Feruzi, drawing a knife, but Feruzi dodged neatly aside and grabbed Caulky around the waist, bearing her to the floor.

"Lemme go lemme go!" Caulky shrieked as the rest of the officers leisurely approached, Ezikial having freed himself from the barrels. He shoved his pistol into Caulky's face.

"No.  Give up or I will shoot you again."  With a wail of despair, she stopped struggling.

"I'm thinking we should get out of here before the militia arrives," Captain Jerrell said to Chopper.  "Let me show you the back way."

Chopper whistled to get Feruzi's attention and gestured after Jerrell.  She hauled Caulky along as they slipped behind the bar and out an unobtrusive door to the street.

"So, why did we do that, exactly?" Feruzi asked, putting Caulky down and dusting herself off.  Caulky started to scramble to her feet and Feruzi planted a foot on her rump, ending that idea.

"The Wormwood's in port," Ezikial snarled.

"We shouldn't let Harrigan know we're in port just yet," Chopper explained.

"We've been spreading our tales and coin around.  It would be hard for him to avoid knowing at this point."

"That's fact. But I somehow doubt we're his primary concern at this moment. I suspect he was lacking in some crew," Reiko explained.

"So that's what you were about," Chopper said. He turned to Pierce, "So, aye. We're not friends o' Barnabus Harrigan, as ye might know already."

"I haven't crossed paths with him, but from what I've heard, that makes me a fortunate man, indeed."

"I got no loyalty ta Harrigan," Caulky muttered under Feruzi's foot. "An' I'm dead if I go back there wi'out some presses."

"Oh, is that a fact, missy?" Chopper asked. "Lookin' ta defect, perchance? Mister Hands is far less likely to shoot a crewmate. Well. Less likely, anyway.  An' I've got a bit of a hobby of employing former Wormwood-ers."

Feruzi sighed.  "We've already poached most of Harrigan's crew, what's one more."

"Yeah, things went south fer me after half th' crew left on that Rahadoomy ship. I weren't the cabin girl no more, had t' work like a common swab..." Caulky grumbled. "I got pretty good wif a knife! Not good enough, I guess." She finished, glancing up at Feruzi.

"Well, then. Swear yer loyalty, accept my protection, an' be welcome to the crew," Chopper told her.

'I swear m'self t' you, Chopper. CAP'N Chopper."

"Done and done. Turn 'er loose, an' let her walk alongside us like the crew she now is."

"Should take a look at that gunshot wound," Feruzi said.  Sandara emerged from behind Pierce, who was talking to her in low tones.

"I can take care of that!" she burst out and leaned over Caulky to conceal her blush.  Pierce clapped his hands together and grinned.

"Well! Good show all around. See you up at Fort Hazard tomorrow evening?"

"Aye, Cap'n. I reckon we will at that. Good night!"

"Well, he seemed pleasant enough," Feruzi offered.

Chopper nodded. "I like him. One o' you lot oughtta bed him and secure us a more formal alliance there."

"I nominate Ezikial," Feruzi responded instantly.

Chopper snorted. "Seconded."  Ezikial eyed him for a long moment, then Chopper charged him, grabbed Ezikial in a headlock, and scraped his knuckles viciously across Ezikial's scalp several times.  Chopper then let out a whoop and lit off toward the Crisis, Ezikial in hot pursuit.

"Well, I should turn in," Sandara said abruptly, not really to anyone.  The women exchanged a look and slowly followed, turning Caulky over to Tolitha.  Feruzi heard drumming and terrible fiddle music late that night and grinned happily to herself.

The next morning a retinue of pirates arrived at the docks, stopping alongside Crisis and hailing the ship.  "Ahoy!" Chopper called back.  A very large, scarred half-orc stepped forward, seemingly unconcerned with the rapidly-gathering crowd of spectators.

"Tsadok Goldtooth asks for permission to come aboard."

"Granted, and welcome," Chopper told him. "What can we do fer ye this fine mornin'?"   Tsadok regarded Chopper's hand for a long moment before shaking it.  He half-orc was punishingly strong, but refrained from crushing Chopper's hand.

"I am here," he called, projecting so the crowd could hear, "to see if you and your crew are passable sailors, and not just fancy jackets who found yourselves in command of a pirate ship."

"Fair enough.  I can understand not wantin' riffraff amongst the ranks of the Free Pirates."

"I am glad you understand my position."  If Tsadok was glad, he had a mighty strange way of showing it. "There will be three tests. I won't waste time explaining all the rules right now, but you'll choose one of your number to compete in each, without help or hindrance from any others.  Casting spells is... unsporting."

"Heh. No worry on that account."

"Two piers over is a brig called the Stingray. Meet me there in fifteen minutes."

The Stingray was easy enough to locate, a brig with two tall square-rigged masts with a sizeable crowd assembled around it.  Tsadok jumped up on a handy box and addressed the crowd.

"One of these fancy jackets will climb the mast's rigging to the top spar and untie the sail before Mr. Boyne here can do the same."  The half-orc pointed out a wiry human with nut-brown skin sitting nearby.

"Well, hell," Chopper said, and began to wriggle out of his armor, handing it off to Feruzi. Tsadok directed each of them to the masts, then produced a gleaming pepperbox pistol, pointed it at the air, and fired.  Boyle immediately sprang for the rigging, going up with practiced ease.  Chopper cursed mildly and began scrambling as well, keeping pace with the nimble rigger.  Boyne slowed to be careful of the awkward upper rigging, giving Chopper the opportunity to pull ahead and find his balance on the massive crossbar.  Making his way to an outside end, Chopper began untying the knots holding the sail.  Boyne did the same, but seemed to have a different method, untying the opposing knots; the reason for this became apparent when an entire side of Chopper's sail abruptly flapped loose, nearly knocking Chopper off the crossbar.  Chopper cursed and made his way back to the mast and began struggling with the other side of the sail.  He reached the last tie, no longer even aware of where Boyne was, and looked down at a bald sailor loitering below him.

"Whoops!" the sailor said, letting loose the knot securing a boom, which swiveled and crashed into the rigging not far from Chopper, shaking him badly.  He flung himself down on the crossbar, gripping it with his arms and legs, until the shaking passed.  "Stormy weather over here Boyne!" he called out. "How's it over there?!"  Boyne looked up and nearly lost his own balance.  He was across the mast from his last tie, while Chopper was already on top of it.  The race was no contest--Chopper's sail unfurled gracefully and Chopper slid down the rigging to the deck.  Tsadok did not appear impressed, but the civilian crowd cheered anyway.

"Not bad, but one win doesn't make you pirates."

"Might see to those boom lines, Mister Goldtooth. Some of 'em seem ta be a little loose."

"You don't expect pirates to play fair, do you?" Tsadok actually grinned, exposing fearsome tusks.

"Ye've a beautiful smile, sir." Chopper replied, flashing his teeth.

"I don't think he's going to award you extra points for flirting, Captain," Feruzi told him. "So, what's next?"

"We'll test your luck and talent after lunch, back on your ship. One of you will play Bastard's Fool against me. With an additional 'Port Peril' rule: the winner of each hand drinks a ration cup of Gutburn rum." 

Skull and Shackles Interlude: On Magic

Genzei was a maze.  Feruzi surveyed the narrow, winding streets that fed off the docks with considerable trepidation.  In theory, it wasn't any more foreign to her than any other port in the Shackles, but Genzei felt more than foreign, it felt frenzied, like she wasn't going shopping but preparing for war in completely unknown territory against an unguessed foe.

"Ah, you go out, fierce hunter?  Or stay in ship?"  Feruzi jumped and turned around to see Tenchin grinning at her.

"What?"  The man spoke Taldane well enough, but even when the words were clear the meaning was rarely so.

"Go or stay, but not block plank."

"Oh."  Feruzi stepped onto the shore to let the little old man past.  He stumped down the gangplank and struck a pose on the dock, leaning back with his hands on his hips.  Tenchin took a deep breath and smacked his lips appreciatively.

"Ah, good to visit civilization again.  Smell proper air."  To Feruzi, the port smelled much like any other--rotting fish, seaweed, and weird cooking smells.  Maybe a little less of the urine and feces here, but the appalling noise more than made up for it.  "You visit Tien before?  Yesno?"

"No."

"Ah, you come!  You eat real food!  Should not miss!"  Without waiting for her response, Tenchin latched onto her arm and barreled straight at the crowds.  Feruzi found herself bouncing helplessly off a pile of caged chickens, bowling over an elaborately-dressed prostitute, and putting her foot through some kind of drum as she staggered after the tiny old man.  There was no point in arguing, so she concentrated on keeping her feet until they fetched up at what appeared to be a combination alchemical shop, tannery, and rubbish heap.  There Tenchin engaged in rapid-fire speech with the equally tiny and elderly shopkeeper, who began picking up bits of rubbish and alchemical concoctions and  throwing them into a smoking, sizzling pan.  He then decanted the result into a bowl and handed it to Feruzi with a sneer.  Feruzi stared at the greasy mess in horror.

"You eat!  Good!  Good!" Tenchin enthused, rubbing his stomach and mugging vigorously.

"This is food?!  It looks like someone scraped it off the bottom of a shipwreck."

"Good food!"  The shopkeeper was waving a spoon at Feruzi and chattering like an angry monkey.  Feruzi glared at Tenchin, then took the spoon and shoveled some of the glop into her mouth.  Instantly, she felt like someone had jabbed red-hot pins into her sinuses.  Her throat swelled, her eyes watered, and she burst into a fit of helpless choking.  Both Tenchin and the shopkeeper exploded into hysterical laughter.

"Oh, you spring chicken!  No fortitude!"  Tenchin took the bowl and wolfed down the volcanic mixture with every sign of enjoyment.

"Ha, ha," Feruzi said weakly.

"We get you food for feeble baby chick!"

"No, no, really, I'm not hungry."

"No food?  Why so many dithering?"  Tenchin pantomimed Feruzi's indecision and the shopkeeper cackled.  "You tell wise Uncle.  He help you."

"I wanted to . . . get a book.  On magic."

"Magic?  You make love potion maybe?"

"What?  No!"

"Ah, of course, you already have man!  You use magic make him last longer!  Much secret!"

"NO!"  The shopkeeper waved an admonishing finger at the outburst.  "We don't have a sorcerer aboard, but we keep running across them.  I don't want us to be undefended.  So I thought . . ."

"Ahh.  You wise.  Very good.  You come!"  Tenchin latched on to Feruzi's arm and once again they were bouncing through the crowd, fetching up after a dizzying time at another tiny hole in the wall that was indistinguishable from the first.  In fact, Feruzi wasn't entirely convinced that this was, in fact, a different location, particularly since there was a rather familiar-looking bowl still sitting on the counter.

"Jahei teach you ALL about magic!"  Tenchin declared.  The shopkeeper reached and grabbed Feruzi's face in what felt remarkably like gnarled bird claws.  There followed a thorough examination of Feruzi's eyes, nose, mouth, ears, hair, knees, and elbows, and the shopkeeper burst into outraged shouting and retreated deep into the bowels of the shop.  Tenchin's smile vanished.  "Jahei say you no learn."

"What?  Why?"

"Head no smart.  No learning.  But you have magic in blood.  Just need wake."

"Um . . . so how do I do that?"  The shopkeeper reappeared and began throwing things in the smoking pan again, muttering all the while.  The bowl was refilled and pressed into Feruzi's hands.

"You eat."

"I think once was enough, thank you."

"No.  You eat."  Tenchin was not smiling in the slightest.  "Eat all."

"I think I've had enough of this."

"Eat!"  the shopkeeper grabbed Feruzi's wrists, pinning her to the counter, while Tenchin pinched her nose until she gasped for air and shoveled the bowl of mess into her mouth.  He then clamped his bony hand over her face until she had to either swallow or choke to death.  "Good.  You wake up, you read scroll."

"Wh-what?" Feruzi muttered.  Her eyes would no longer focus.  Maybe she'd just lie down for a bit.

Sketchwork: Feruzi

So, I've created a (very) preliminary sketch of Feruzi for her eventual portrait:

And I tested out my new scanner, which seems to be working just fine.  Win!

Skull and Shackles Session 22: Dat Booty

"That is--rather disturbing,"  Feruzi said at last.  Reiko frowned, evidently thinking hard, her expression inscrutable.  She put the jar with its gruesome contents away for safekeeping and stood.

"Shall we continue on?"  Chopper shrugged at Reiko and they continued their journey through the watery tunnels.  They followed the cross-tunnel south, arriving at a small chamber on the left hand with numerous organic filaments running from floor to ceiling like squishy columns.  Fist-sized pink ovoids were attached to these columns, bobbing gently in the current.  Feruzi grimaced at the sight.

"It is going to turn out that Wolfe's treasure was his collection of weird plants, isn't it."

"It's lookin' a lot like that," Chopper agreed.

"Captain, there's something in there. I can hear it moaning," Ezikial said.  They moved cautiously into the cavern, Feruzi taking the rear and flinching away from the gelatinous protrusions.  On close inspection the ovoids were slightly translucent, revealing small tadpole forms inside.

           

"Is this some kind of sahuagin . . . hatchery?"  Feruzi demanded.

"No,"  Reiko said.  "They're locathah. They're kind of like rivals to the sahuagin . . . usually.  "I'm not sure how or why they'd be breeding down here with the sahuagin."

The moaning turned out to be coming from a fishlike humanoid--a locathah--chained to the wall at the back of the cave.  Someone had removed the creature's legs and crudely stitched up the stumps.  It seemed oblivious to its surroundings.

           

"Yeesh," Chopper muttered, approaching and scanning its injuries.  "Seems to be female."

"Don't TOUCH it," Feruzi warned.  "You don't know where it's been!"  Chopper ignored her.

"Killing her would be the merciful thing," Reiko said.  "The sahuagin are probably keeping her to breed slaves."

"Poor blighter," Chopper said, pulling out an axe and working the shackles free from the wall.

"Unless you fix her legs, she's the same as any legless person. It's unlikely that she'll be able to take care of herself even if we free her," Reiko insisted.

"She's aquatic," Chopper says with a shrug. "I reckon we'll leave that decision to her."  The locathah mother seemed to realize what was happening and began struggling feebly, jabbering in an unknown tongue.  Various attempts at communication failed, but the fish-mother seemed to realize they weren't there to kill her and she relaxed, making a gathering gesture toward her chest.

"Her children, maybe?" Reiko guessed.  Feruzi sighed and went back to help gather up the eggs without actually touching them.  The fish-mother swam after and was rather more effective at netting the eggs into a single somewhat sticky mass.

"Why don't we show her the map, and see if she understands," Reiko offered.  The matriarch considered the drawing for some time and then pointed at a spot roughly equidistant from Mancatcher Cove and Tidewater Rock.  She then made an inquisitive gesture toward them, and Sandara pointed to the Rock itself.  That seeming to be the end of useful communication, the matriarch made a sort of aquatic bow.

"Yes, we're super-nice," Feruzi growled under her breath.  "Now shoo."  With her eggs on her back, the matriarch pulled herself into deeper water and vanished into the current.  "We are never going to hear the end of this.  Mark my words."

The Crisis officers went the opposite way, passing through an empty feeding chamber and into what seemed to pass for a common area.  An ancient, bloated sahuagin occupied the chamber along with a man-sized monstrosity that resembled a cross between a turtle and a crab, with a broad shell, flippers instead of legs, a snapping beak, and two pincers.

"And WHAT in the HELLS is THAT?!?!" Feruzi demanded.  A trio of hammerhead sharks rushed into the room, making everyone jump aside to avoid the serrated teeth.  Reiko dodged into range of the tojanida, which snapped at her viciously, claiming a wedge flesh.  Reiko plunged her wakizashi into its back, cracking the shell like a coconut.  Ezikial fended off the sharks with his blades while the sahuagin matron rounded on Chopper, rapidly dealing several nasty-looking wounds.  Feruzi tried to draw her attention away, but the matron dodged aside despite her unwieldy bulk.

Reiko planted her feet on the tojanida's shell and heaved, recovering her wakizashi in a rush of vile fluid and internal organs.  It floated away, limp.  With that threat handled, the matron was quickly surrounded and dispatched.  The single surviving shark swam away.  The next chamber seemed to be the matron's quarters with a few valuables scattered about; another chamber beyond it was full of sahuagin fingerlings and newly hatched fry kept in by seaweed curtains.  A second layer of seaweed concealed a muddy chamber full of thousands of marble-sized milky eggs.

"These, I might suggest we destroy," Reiko said.

"It would probably be effective enough just to remove the curtains and let them escape to get eaten by random sea life," Feruzi told her.

"Sounds good to me," Reiko agreed, and together they ripped the seaweed out by the roots, letting the fingerlings and fry loose to consume the eggs and each other.

           

"For a savage, you sure are delicate about some things," Chopper told Feruzi.

"Perhaps your definition of savage is in error."  They returned to the main room to explore another branch.  Chopper halted suddenly in the middle of the room and glanced toward the west.

"There's . . . somethin' there.  Something . . . callin' to me."

"Oh, this can't be good," Feruzi grumped.  They followed him down the west tunnel and into what seemed to be the primary barracks for the sahuagin warriors.  Among the various peculiar personal effects they found several raw nuggets of gold and silver, along with a severed hand still wearing a gold ring.  Sandara oohed over the ring, which was carved with miniscule dolphins.

"It helps ye ter charm animals, I be thinkin'," she said.

"Bloody useless.  Still, it looks nice,"  Chopper told her.

"I'm pretty sure he doesn't need to be collecting any more animals," Reiko said as Chopper put the ring on.

"Mebbe ye could use it on Rotgut, Cap'n," Sandara suggested.

           

"Now there's a thought. Godsdamned stubborn feather-brained layabout."

           

"Now, thass no way tae talk 'bout Conchobhar, Cap'n."

           

The chum-filled waters of the next room suggested it was the shark corral.  Chopper looked uneasy again.  "There's power here. I don't think it likes me much."

"Possible opening over there," Ezikial pointed.  They gathered around a narrow crack in the wall which was almost buried under an accumulation of sediment.  Chopper aimed a sunrod into the crack and just made out a ship's anchor driven into the ground in the darkened cave beyond.  The massive chain was coiled around a humanoid skeleton wearing the remains of a captain's coat and a silvery pendant.

"Looks like more Deep Platinum," Chopper commented.  "No time to dig it out now.  We'll come back."  They went back to the common room and took the last remaining branch, heading south into a curtain of golden seaweed.  Pushing past it, they entered a large chamber beyond that was primarily occupied by a stone dais supporting a truly massive throne.  The erosion, stains, and strange runes upon the throne showed it to be ancient, lost to the sea-bottom slime for who knew how many uncounted centuries before the sahuagin dug it out and brought it here.  A four-armed sahuagin monstrosity perched on the throne, flanked by a pair of hugely muscled females.  "You," the male snarled, pointing his trident at Chopper.  "You killed my son!"

           

"It's possible. I kill a lot of people." Chopper glanced over at Reiko. "Vicariously," he amended.  The fight was quick and bloody and, as usual, ended with Chopper wounded and dizzy and the sahuagin rather deceased.  Finally, the sahuagin threat to Tidewater Rock was relieved.  Chopper and Reiko examined the throne room, recovering numerous valuables including a Varisian music box with the ivory image of a dancing harrower.  The inscription on the lid read "For my Darling Isabella".  Given pride-of place, however, was an object that didn't seem to be treasure at all:  an iron rod used to turn a capstan.

"I could fix it," Ezikial said, turning the music box over in his hands.

"I don't want it to be a bomb, thanks," Chopper told him.

"Not everything needs to explode, Captain.  Some needs to hold alcohol."

"It looks like this throne is from an ancient cyclops empire called Ghol-Gan," Reiko remarked, examining the stone.  She looked closer, frowning, then began examining the floor around it.  "Someone help me and see if we can push this throne a little bit."

"A little bit?" Sandara demanded.  "This thing's gotta weigh eight thousand pounds!"  They tried to move it anyway, the only result being that Chopper somehow managed to wrench his back.  Reiko then wedged herself between the throne and the wall to push with her legs, budging it a bit, but it was just too big and heavy for one person to move.  Then she fixed on the iron rod.  With that massive lever, they were able to force the throne aside, revealing a dark chamber below and two chests.  One was an iron-banded footlocker decorated in a skull motif that seemed untouched by the seawater.  The other was a stone coffer carved with the face of a fish-demon.  Its seams were sealed with lead and it was cemented to the floor.  The other chest they hauled up with little difficulty and set aside.

"Prolly cursed," Chopper said of the sealed coffer.

"I ain't seein' magic on it.  That oth'r one is, though," Sandara told him.  Reiko scrabbled around in the muck and emerged with a key, which she pocketed.  She then attacked the stone coffer.  The lid came off with some difficulty, revealing a blood-red cloud of spores.  Reiko coughed and quickly exited until the cloud had dissipated.  The coffer was otherwise empty.

While they were thus occupied, Feruzi managed to dig out the deep platinum pendant from the shark pit.  Finding nothing else of note, she handed it to Chopper.  Taking their plunder, they returned to the Crisis, arriving just after lunch.  Fishguts' eyes lit up when he laid them on the magical chest.  "Stone me, ye found a captain's locker!"

" A what now?" Feruzi asked.

"Iss bigger on th' inside," he grined.

           

"That's what she said!"  Chopper shot back. He paused, but no one laughed. "Wait, what?"

           

"More'n that, if'n we keep it in our hold, our hold will be bigger on th' inside."

"Assuming we can get it open," Feruzi said.  Reiko produced the key with a grin.

"If that's Cyrus Wolfe's treasure," Chopper said, "then less havva looksee!"

Without further ado, they upended the chest on the deck, nearly burying Chopper in a heap of mixed coinage, silks, furs, exotic spices, raw gold and silver, and a truly enormous quantity of prized pirate booty, including an entire ship's figurehead that bounced down the heap of loot and nearly took out Simmed.

"Holy. Buggering. Crap!"  The crew cheered and Kroop clapped Chopper on the back.

"Suren th' Hurricane King will see ya now!"  Feruzi fetched her clipboard and began scribbling while the crew shoveled the booty back into the locker.

           

"Double shares for the crew on this haul, Ruse," Chopper told her.

           

"Aye, aye, Captain.  Haroun, has Maoud got any family?"

           

"His mother lives in Azir," Haroun said, "with his young brother."

           

"We'll see to 'em both, then." Chopper declared. "Crisis takes care of her own."

"It would be good to head to the Ushinawa Isles for now," Reiko said.

"To bury your da?" Chopper guessed.

           

"Something like that, Captain."

"Make it so."   

Skull and Shackles Session 21: Vines and Skulls

Once again, the waters of the cove were still--oddly still, considering the north wind was beginning to pick up, heralding another child-storm broken off from the Eye of Abendego.  Clouds streaked the sky.

"So... Okay, I feel bad about that now," Chopper commented, casting a wary eye at the weather.

"I feel like that might have been more productive at sunrise, Captain," Reiko admonished.

           

Chopper emitted some unintelligible mumbles that ended with, "So's your face."

"All due respect, Cap'n, that don't make sense,"  Cochobar told him.

           

"It always makes sen . . . Oh, nevermind. For what it's worth, I'm thinking the guardian monster ain't tied to the sunrise. Just seein' the Relevant Bit so we know where to climb

"Possibly, but it's pretty dark in the cove any time during the day and night, except sunrise to probably around late morning.  Who knows what the cove will look like during the morning hours?"  Reiko pressed.

           

"Who ever heard of a guardian monster that's afraid of the dark?" Chopper demanded.

           

"Afraid of the light, you mean,"  Feruzi corrected.

"No, I said it right."

"Sadly, you meant it wrong."

           

"I didn't mean to suggest that it was afraid of the dark, only that it will be much, much, MUCH easier for us to see when the sunlight is shining directly in there,"  Reiko continued, beginning to get aggravated.

"Fine. Whatever.  I want lights all over the deck. And maybe some rum. A little dancing..." Chopper shook his head. "No. No. Just the lights."

"We'll keep the ballista loaded as well,"  Ezikial told him.

           

"That's probably the wisest thing I've heard all evening," Reiko grumbled as they began laboriously moving the ship.  The wind helped some, but in these close quarters it was as likely to drive them up on the rocks as blow them in the right direction.  The Crisis drifted out over the dark bowl of the cove.  Her crew gathered nervously at the gunwhales, surveying the water.  Ezikial looked up at the crow's nest and yelled a warning as thick tentacle-like vines erupted from the canopy above, sweeping across the deck of the Crisis.  Reiko ducked as one groped after her; another snagged Grok around the waist and yanked her skyward.  Rosie all-but vanished in the coils of a third tentacle-vine, while a fourth got Chopper around the ankle and hauled him upwards, ass-over-teakettle.

           

"Oop!" he yelled. "Save the ladies! I got this!"  The tentacles began to contract along their length and Chopper watched in horror as the skin around his ankle and thigh flushed dark red and began to feel horribly numb--a deep lassitude gripped his muscles.

 "BESMARA!" Ezikial grated, firing the ballista at the canopy above and producing a brief rain of slimy vegetation and a high-pitched squealing noise.  "Dar, Insawa! Reload that!"  Something that might be a beak gnashed within the canopy and the victims rose to a height of sixty feet.

           

"Feruzi, shoot that!" Reiko yelled, pointing to the beak and blobby plant mass above them.  She yelled and charged the vine still flailing at her, severing it cleanly. 

Feruzi shot her a horrified glance, seeing Chopper pulled inexorably upward, then scowled and aimed her bow at the central mass.  Vile sweet-smelling fluid rained onto the deck as she fired three arrows in rapid succession. "Let go of my Chopper, vile beast!" she yelled.  Another vine descended and grabbed Maoud.  Chopper thrashed wildly as the creature's beak emerged from the vegetation and snapped at him, tearing a bloody stripe across his chest and nearly crushing his ribs.  A second ballista bolt ripped through the canopy nearby.

Reiko leaped for the ropes and began to climb rapidly, trying to get in range to cut Maoud down.  Feruzi took careful aim and shot another barrage.  The vines writhed in vegetable agony.  Chopper slashed at the beak with his axe, yelling and bleeding.

"Cmon, ye blighter!  Is that all ye got!"

"DON'T ENCOURAGE IT!"  Feruzi shouted, horrified.

Copper's axe caught in something deep in the creature's body.  Taking the haft with both hands, he braced his feet and pulled with all his might, tearing open a mass of green, pulsing tubes.  The creature, whatever it was, shuddered violently all over, jerking its tentacle-vines almost hard enough to break its captives in half.  Then, slowly, it began to tear free of the canopy and topple toward the water below more than a hundred feet below.

"Uh oh,"  Chopper remarked, struggling to get free.

"Leila, catch Rosie!" Feruzi yelled.  She grabbed the base of the rope Reiko was climbing and gave it a powerful shove, sending the samurai into Chopper's path.  Reiko clutched Chopper's belt and they swung back out over the ship, thumping into the mainmast and sliding down into the rigging, bruised, winded and covered in blood but still alive.  Ezikial grabbed a dangling vine and cracked it like a whip, swinging Grok in a fast, tightening spiral that ended with her safely on the deck, albeit rather more green of complexion than was her usual wont.  Leila flipped off the sterncastle and caught the hurtling Rosie, absorbing their mutual momentum in a series of acrobatic turns before landing nimbly.  Haroun, Dar, and Insawa raced to catch Maoud, but the ballista hindered them and the Rahadoumi sailor crashed to the deck.  Sandara and Chopper reached him at almost the same moment, but he was already gone.

"Damn," Chopper said softly.  Unable to find anything else to express the sick feeling twisting his stomach, he repeated himself. "Damn."  Feruzi poked him worriedly.

"What's this enormous hole!?" she demanded.  He looked up at her, face tight with pain that wasn't only physical.

"Failure."  Feruzi frowned and helped him to sit back, gently squeezing his shoulder and resting her cheek against his for a moment.

"What was his name?" Chopper whispered in her ear.

"Maoud."  He nodded and repeated it several times, committing it to memory while Sandara doctored his ribs.  Subdued, they tidied up the body--Haroun weeping silently to himself--and cleared the vegetation from the deck.  The Guardian of Mancatcher Cove slowly sank, to the distaste of the sharks.

"Sunrise, then?" Feruzi asked finally.

"Right," Reiko told her.  They settled in to wait for morning, tired but too shaken up to sleep.  Deep in the night watch, Feruzi suddenly stirred.

"I heard something," she told Reiko, rushing off toward the stern.  "Get a lantern over here," Feruzi ordered.  She picked up her boarding pike, gripping it in the way that caused it to extend twenty feet, and flailed away at the side of the ship.  "Something is down there messing with our rudder."  Chopper appeared at her side, a boarding axe in each of his hands, and straddled the gunwhale, apparently intending to climb down and investigate.

"Oh no you don't!" Feruzi yelled at him.  "Sharks, remember?"

"I'm not gonna get in the water," he grunted.

"If you go down, you need to be on a rope so we can pull you back up," Feruzi insisted.  The head of a sahuagin emerged from the water about fifty feet away before disappearing again.  Feruzi growled, but no more sahuagin appeared and the noise had stopped.  They watched alertly for some time, but no further activity was forthcoming.  Shortly before dawn, Chopper gathered the crew on the deck.

"Listen up, you lot. We've already lost Maoud, and I don't aim to lose anymore! We got fishmen in the cove with sinister intent, and while the away party is . . . away, ye'll need to be extra vigilant. Repel any would-be boarders with extreme prejudice. Is that clear, sailors?!"

             

"Aye aye, sir!"

"Right, then. Let's find this toothy whatsit."

           

As the first light of dawn peeked into the darkened cove from the east, the jungle cliffs came alive with patterns of shadow and light in a thousand fanciful, ever-shifting shapes. When the sun was fully up the cliffs would return to their normal appearance, but for a few moments they were almost magical with a display of shadow art. In the half light, a group of caves and crevices on the cliff face took on the appearance of a grinning skull. As the morning sun illuminated the shadow that resembled the skull’s mouth, a previously unseen glint of gold sparkled brightly in the sunlight, as if the skull had a gold tooth

"I kin scarce believe I'm seein' such a thing," Fishguts said in awe.  Reiko grinned.

"And there Captain Chopper, is the Grave Lady's prize tooth."

"So what is the meaning of 'wayward orb'?"  Feruzi asked.

"Cap'n Wolfe lost one o' his eyes," Fisguts told her.  "Th' right one, if I recollect."

The four officers climbed down into the ship's boat with Sandara and began rowing for the 'tooth', finding a mass of gold set into a crevice between the stones where it would catch the dawn light.  They pulled the boat up onto the beach and looked upward speculatively at the twin caves above them.  Chopper swung a grapple speculatively.  "So, did that mean HIS right or OUR right?"

"That one," Reiko said, pointing.  Feruzi began climbing the rock face with expert ease--apparently the months aboard ship had honed her skills considerably.

"Ruse, yer doin' in the hard way, but you're making it look easy," Chopper commented.

"Don't . . . distract . . . me . . ." she grated.  The other three followed using the rope.  In the cave entrance they found the rotten stub of a wooden boom, likely used for hoisting heavy loads.  Chopper pulled the rope up after them and secured it.  "No sense helping those sahuagin blighters if they're inclined to follow us."

The opening ascended into the cliff face, initially a tight fit between various vines and roots but it widened further in until they reached a point just below the island's surface.  Sunlight filtered down through a rent in the earth overhead, just enough to provide for the growth of a single gargantuan tree.  Its massive buttressing roots blocked any hope of further progress.  The many fissures and crevices in the bark vaguely resembled a wrinkled human visage surmounted by a craggy crown, the spreading roots a hoary growth of beard.

"The 'old king'?"  Feruzi asked.

"That's my guess," said Reiko.  Feruzi found a humanoid skull among the roots, its hollow eye sockets directed toward the earthen floor.  Chopper produced a shovel and they set to digging in turns.  Ten feet down through the nasty, rocky soil they found a layer of wooden planks laid across what was, evidently, a pit.

"Bloody hells, it's about time," Chopper grunted.  They were all filthy and sweaty.  The wooden planks revealed a vast cavern in the rock, dropping twenty feet to still, dark water below.  The remnants of a wooden platform and stair clung to the wall but the wood had long since rotted in the damp.  Reiko cracked a sunrod while Sandara cast a spell that should render them able to breathe underwater if necessary.  With care, they descended into the water and found a sloping, submerged tunnel leading southwest.  They followed it for some distance, then were abruptly attacked by sahuagin coming from both directions at once.  Reiko cleaved two down before they had a chance to realize they were overmatched; a brief and brutal melee followed, with the few remaining sahuagin fleeing to the southwest.  The five adventurers followed but lost them in the dark, finding instead a section of tunnel that rose above sea level, creating an air pocket.  The floor was sand with a few items of furniture scattered about, including a table and chair, a bed with a sagging frame, and a crude fence of driftwood.  The entire cavern was overgrown with vines bearing tiny violent flowers that filled the air with a cloying sweet fragrance.

"Inkskin smelled like this . . ." Chopper muttered.  He sniffed again, then his eyes crossed and he folded in on himself, asleep.  Some of the flowers began to extend fine tendrils and creep toward him.  Reiko sliced at them, sheering them in half and replacing the fragrance with a vile stench.  Holding their breath as best they could, Feruzi and Ezikial helped her rapidly dispose of the remaining carnivorous vines.  Sandara crouched and examined the sleeping Chopper.

"He should wake up in a minute or so," was the verdict.  They set to rummaging through the few items while they waited, and Sandara proved to be correct; Chopper regained consciousness quickly and looked around.

"I think these are xtabay plants of unusual size.  Didn't know they existed," he muttered.  Feruzi turned up a wand in the bedclothes and a small coffer next to a large glass jar underneath the bed.  The coffer held three potions, but the jar contained the preserved severed head of a vicious-looking Tian man with pock-scarred cheeks, a tattoo of a kraken on his forehead, and all his teeth broken out.  A label, written in crude Minkaian, clung loosely to the side of the jar.  Reiko read it and gasped.

"Whass it say?" Sandara asked, fascinated by the gruesome spectacle.

"It's a name. The name of my father, as he was known on the seas."

"Thass... thass yer Da?!"         

Government Program Roulette

It occurred to me today that government "insurance" programs--social security, welfare, food stamps, subsidized school loans, anything where the government offers some kind of guarantee or assurance or "safety net"--are like a giant game of Russian Roulette.  Somebody is getting shafted by these programs so other people can "benefit", and engaging in any of them is an enormous gamble where you can only hope that "somebody" won't be you.

Social security is bankrupt and needs to end, but whoever's left holding the sack when the benefits finally get cut gets reamed.  They had to pay in, but they get nothing back out whatsoever.  And this could happen at any time--it just awaits a big enough fiasco for it to be politically palatable to make cuts, and cuts there will be.  Yet, somehow this is claimed to be more secure than saving money you control on your own recognizance?

Student loans are another example.  How many people get sufficient benefit from going to college that it's actually a worthwhile investment for them?  Very, very few of the people I know, that's who.  A good 80% wind up working in jobs that by no means should require a degree of any sort just to manage their overwhelming debt.  To keep that job, they have to go further into debt by buying a car, which ties them to further expenses like car insurance, gas, repairs, etc. etc.  Five years down the road, they're bored with their job but they have no savings and can't afford to look for another one--nor could they afford to move if they got one.  Start their own business?  Yeah, if they had savings to support them and time and energy to invest. But those are consumed by the simple maintenance of their debt and car and housing and food.  And they're not even working in the field they studied.  Then the government decides to raise the rate on their student loans.  Russian roulette.  The only way to win is not to play.

The really nasty part is that the more these programs are created, the more it becomes prohibitively difficult not to play.  The list of losers keeps growing and the opportunities for people who opt-out continue to shrink.  In the end, somebody is going to have to bite this bullet.  Nobody wants it to be them, but it's inevitable given the nature of the system.

Lead with your Head

I think one of the major things holding me back in my life is that I have crushing anxiety issues--I am MORE afraid of success, ANY success, than I am of failure.  Any kind of success creates a chain of responsibilities that must be followed-up on.  Write a novel?  Now you have to edit it, send it out to publishers or self publish, promote it endlessly, engage with fans and detractors both, and write another one.  I start a part-time job at a retail store (I've held AT LEAST six jobs EXACTLY like this one at various points in my life) and I am PETRIFIED.  I have broken down in tears more than once.

Failure hurts, but it's kind of liberating, too--when nothing you can do will fix the mess, you might as well do what you want.  I think I may be addicted to self-sabotage--when things get challenging, I want to throw everything out and start fresh.  Starting something is fun and gets me all enthusiastic.  Keeping it going is another matter.  I don't need a fresh start.  I need to buckle down.

There are some things in my life I've actually managed to complete and even follow-up on, but I have no idea why.  It has something to do with my emotional stance when I start the project, that much I know, but for the life of me I can't seem to figure out what causes it.  Some things I just decide to do, and then I do them.  I might get tired or annoyed midway through, but I still manage to finish it somehow.  So, what's the difference?  And, more importantly, how can I manage to do this on command?

I suppose the thing to do is to look at my successes, few as they are, and try to figure out what's different about them, if anything.  My only glimmerings of a clue at this point is that the times I've been successful at things, I . . . didn't have any particularly strong initial emotional reaction to them.  Does that sound strange?  I mean, when people talk about success, don't they always tell you to "follow your passion" or do something that makes you super-excited or similar?  This does not work for me.  Enthusiasm PARALYZES me and turns into helpless terror that cuts off my judgment and eventually I bail out from sheer desperation.

Every single colossal failure or bit of stupidity in my life started out with enthusiasm.  I think I may use enthusiasm as a sort of anesthetic to push myself into doing things I really don't want to do.  But like rage, enthusiasm cannot be maintained long-term.  It might get me to start an ill-advised effort, but it won't get me to finish it.

I'm not saying enthusiasm itself is bad--I've experienced enthusiasm in the course of my various successes, as well as satisfaction, fatigue, annoyance, etc. etc.  I just think that when I'm enthusiastic at the start of something, this is a sign that I'm hiding my real feelings from myself and I won't be able to carry it through.  I'm anxiety-ridden.  When I start something my natural response is dread, not enthusiasm.  I start work at Meijer tomorrow and I'm totally dreading it.  I have zero enthusiasm.  But I'm going to do it anyway, because I decided to.

That seems to be pretty universal with the successes I've enjoyed.  I just decide to do them, and then do them.  No passion, no enthusiasm--maybe even a bit of dread.  As I sit here contemplating this, analyzing it, my dread has faded away from my awareness, leaving only the functioning of the analytical part of my mind.

I read an article not too long ago about a bit of research that seems to indicate that your emotional and analytical functions are mutually exclusive--engaging one shuts the other one off and vice versa.  So, that may very well be the secret to my successes--I get my analytical apparatus engaged and let my emotions, whatever they are, just tag along.  Emotions are fickle (well, mine are, at least) and cannot sustain an effort, but I can analyze shit FOREVER. I can forget about dread, physical discomfort, lack of food, lack of sleep, you name it.

So, why don't I just DO that?   Because there's a kind of "switch" that has to be operated.  I don't know if it's true for everyone, but most of the time I seem to be in emotional-operations mode; coasting along, letting my feelings run the show.  Hungry?  Go eat.  Bored?  Go play a game.  It takes some kind of special effort or preparation to turn on the analytical--it's never automatic.

So, maybe what I really need to do is to create a habit of turning on my analytical mind regularly.  I HAVE this habit, but I tend to dissipate my efforts in stuff that's enjoyable but not all that productive.  Facebook.  Playing games.  Some rewarding little ritual that pulls me in and settles me down for work.  Maybe list out the various things I want to work on and create a little ritual for each one.

Stop trying to feel my way into accomplishing something.

Skull and Shackles Interlude: Clothes Make the Woman

*Note:  Technically this interlude falls in the timeline before session 20, however I had writers block and didn't get it done before it was time to post the session writeup.

"Are you well, Lady?"  Feruzi asked.

Lady Agasta seemed to give this some consideration.  "Well enough, considering.  I'm still alive, unlike poor Royster."

"You were very fond of him?"

"Of course.  I think his loyalty was all that kept me going, sometimes."

Feruzi frowned.  "He seemed . . . fond of you.  More than fond."

Agasta smiled sadly.  "Yes.  I know."

"Then why didn't you marry him?  Why marry Chopper instead?"  The frown deepened.  "Why marry anyone?"

Agasta cocked an eyebrow at this series of questions.  "Is something bothering you, my dear?"

"Marriage seems such a troublesome matter.  Feruzi is only here because her sister Ukele ran away from it--ran away from it twice--and caused a mess of troubles.  That, and no man in the village would have Feruzi for a wife, so she was available to do the chasing.  Now Captain Pegsworthy is sending Feruzi gifts that make no sense.  Why all this . . . this trouble."

Agasta's chuckle was deep, resonant, and cultured.  "Exactly how old are you, dear?"

Feruz bristled.  "What does that have to do with anything?"

"Humor me."

"Feruzi has nineteen summers, if it matters.  Ukele has only sixteen, but every man in the village was after her like a pack of dogs after a bitch in heat."

"Oh, how very flattering."

"They deserved it.  They made so much fuss for the war-chief that he declared a games so she could choose the best to be her husband.  It lasted for ten days and kept everyone in the village from their work before she made up her mind.  And then she vanished."

"That sounds more like a cattle auction than a courtship to me.  I'm glad I wasn't born to your people."

Feruzi shook her head, not in disagreement so much as correcting a misapprehension.  "It was so unseemly.  Ukele did not even have her own hut yet.  Usually, when a woman is decides to marry she establishes her own hut and the man just moves in with her.  They stay married until he leaves or she kicks him out.  Ukele couldn't be put to all that work, no, she has to make up to every man in the village and nearly cause a brawl."

"Did you ever think that maybe she didn't want to get married?"

"No?  Then why was she always showing it off?" Feruzi gestured to Agasta's dress.  "You show off, you marry Chopper.  That makes sense."

Agasta's eyes rounded in shock, then she burst out laughing.  She laughed so long and so hard that Feruzi began to look mulish.

"Feruzi doesn't see what is so funny," she said stiffly.

"Oh, my dear, you are fantastic.  I don't 'show off' for Chopper.  I dress this way because I like to.  It's who I am, and it makes me happy.  I would dress this way even if I lived on an island by myself, or an island filled only with other women, although I admit that would be rather dull."

"Do you like Chopper?"

"Of course, dear.  He's a sweet young man.  But I wouldn't have married him just for that.  Maybe a fling, but that would have made Royster so terribly unhappy."  Agasta's face fell and she sighed.  "Poor man.  I wish . . . oh, but there's no use in wishing.  Besmara does as she wills with us all."  She visibly put aside her grief and brightened again.  "But you, don't you have any fancy clothes?"

Feruzi huffed in offense.  "Feruzi got new clothes in Senghor!"

"Those things!  They look nice enough, but that's a suit, dear.  You wear it to work in.  I mean something you wear just to wear it--because it's beautiful.  Every woman should have some thing beautiful for herself.  And, yes, to show off to a man if you want to.  But it's really for you, dear."  Feruzi shook her head mutely.  "Oh, well, we'll see about that!  I'm sure there's something in my closet we can make over to suit you.  Let's go look!"

"Oh . . . Feruzi doesn't want to take up your time . . ."

"Nonsense.  It'll be fun to play at being a girl for a while.  Take my mind off things."