Deep Water and Shoals II

Tonguez · Mar 24, 2004

Malachi grins when he sees that it is indeed a shark, and only of average size at that.
He watches as Vemuz directs the harpooners, remembering his own youth when he would go out and dive with the sharks, and the villagers catching the great fish by attaching a noose to its tail and dragging it ashore

"Powerful totem" Mogwi had told him "Your ancestor was a shark"

Stepping him he calls the orc crewman up and gets ready to help haul the creature aboard...

Bob Aberton · Mar 30, 2004

All,

Lem Harvey throws a handful of chum into the water, and the shark goes into a frenzy, rolling over and snapping at the bait and churning the water into a bloody froth.

The sailor plants his feet, as Mr. Thriceborn instructed him to do. Under Mr. Thriceborn's direction, he sights along the shaft of the harpoon and then draws his arm back.

He takes a deep breath, and then several things happen at once. The GRACE's bow rises over the crest of a wave in a shower of spray, then drops into the trough. The shark rolls over onto its side and snaps at a piece of bait. Then, as the bowsprit dips its lowest, just above the surface of the water, the sailor breaths out and thrusts the harpoon down viciously, rising on his tip-toes and putting his whole body into the throw. The harpoon flashes downwards and sinks into the shark's belly, just aft of his jaws.

If the beast was excited before, it is truly enraged now; it flashes off to the south-west, the line on the end of the harpoon smoking as it snakes over the rail. The six hundred feet of harpoon-line soon run out, however; the bitter end is rove through a block, and a number of orcs and brawny sailors keep tension on the line, playing the shark for all he is worth. Much as the shark tries, he cannot escape the implacable momentum of the 650 ton GRACE, towing him along at right angles to his chosen course with 20 knots of wind in her 9,500 square feet of canvas. Soon the monstrous fish is exhausted; the line gets slacker and slacker, and the sailors heaving on the harpoon line eventually bring the shark back into view. As soon as it is visible, Lem Harvey drops his bait-bucket, dashes out to the tip of the bowsprit, and prepares to slip the noose around the shark's tail with a boat-hook.

Another few minutes of spectacular thrashing ensue as the noose tightens around the tail of the exhausted shark, and then it is hauled free of the water, hanging by its tail from the starboard foreyardarm and twisting and thrashing furiously, dripping water from its body and blood from the harpoon onto the deck. No one is particularly keen to get in close and make the kill.

kenjib · Apr 1, 2004

Vemuz smiles as the shark is hauled out of the water. He approaches the sailor who harpooned it (ooc: the sailor's name?). "That was a worthy throw, sailor. You've a good arm." Vemuz watches the thrashing shark with amusement. "He'll settle down a bit soon, then take a knife to the back of his head. Keep your feet about you though and clear out quickly after you strike.

"Somebody! Bring this man a long knife!" Vemuz spies Lupe near at hand. "Lupe, a knife! Quickly!"

kenjib · Apr 16, 2004

bump?

dead_radish · Apr 21, 2004

Seeing no one stepping up immediately, Malthas shrugs, and reaches down to his belt, pulling out a dagger. He leans out towards Vemuz, and flicks his wrist, winging the dagger at a space in front of his feet.

Tonguez · Apr 22, 2004

Once when Malachi was a child, and fond of swimming out amongst the shark infested waters, Old Mogwi, his mother, had shown him the trick of calling sharks and even feeding them from her hand as if they were common dogs.

"Every beasts is a spirit" she had told him "the forms you see with your eyes are nothing but meat"

Remembering the half-orc grinned and stood waiting for the kill to be made

(ooc still here)

Bob Aberton · Apr 27, 2004

(OOC: You may have noticed my very infrequent posting lately. Just as a heads-up, I'm in the middle of a very busy few months right now, so my posting will probably remain sporadic like this until at least the middle of May...)

Vemuz,

Malthas throws you a knife; you snatch it out of the air and hand it to your protege harpooner.

He grips the knife nervously, and as the shark's thrashing grows weaker, darts in and plunges the knife in, just aft of the shark's gills. The fish convulses once more, spraying salty blood over you and the sailor, and dies.

Lem Harvey waits a few moments and then lowers the shark to the deck, where Mr. Lang strides over and places a bullet neatly into its skull, "just to be sure." A stout, greasy-looking man in an apron, who you vaguely recognize as "Crackerhash Joe" Brody, the cook, who spends nearly all of his days behind the steaming coppers in the galley and rarely emerges into the sunlight, strides forward and hacks the shark's tail off with a cleaver. The shark's tail is nailed to a board to cure in the sun, and the crew exchanges slaps on the back.

A good sign to be sure.

Malthas,

You toss the knife to Vemuz, who neatly snatches it out of the air and hands it to the sailor who harpooned the shark; he darts in and knifes the fish behind the gills, and "Crackerhash" Joe Brody, the cook (whom you only barely recognize as he seems never to emerge from the dank, steamy confines of the galley), chops its tail off with a cleaver.

"Good luck on this voyage, eh, Mr. Swifthand?" Captain McCrenshaw says happily. "Mr. Lang, share out an allowance o' grog to th' crew!"

Malachi,

Malthas tosses a knife to Mr. Thriceborn, who hands it to the sailor who harpooned the shark. He waits until the shark's struggling grows weaker, then darts in and sinks his knife in just aft of the fish's gills, spraying the spectators with salty shark's blood.

Mr. Lang puts a bullet into the shark's head just to be sure, and "Crackerhash" Joe Brody, the cook seems to live behind the steaming coppers in the galley, strides forward (blinking in the unaccustomed sunlight) and chops the shark's tail off with a cleaver. The crew gives a celebratory shout and you hear the Captain order Mr. Lang to share out an allowance of grog to all hands.

A good omen for this voyage, to be sure.

kenjib · Apr 27, 2004

Vemuz pats the side of the shark, looking up and down it's length to get a better feel for it's size, now that it's no longer moving. "Excellent job, hand. We'll work some more on your technique later. You've got a good hand at the harpoon! For now, though, take the night off. I'll take your shift tonight."

Vemuz overhears the call for grog. "Mr. Lang, sir, with your leave make that two additional for the sailor here, as I promised."

Vemuz whirls on his heel to face the crew again as he begins to clap in time. "Chantyman. A song!"

Tonguez · Apr 27, 2004

Malachi grins broadly and gives thanks to the Lady and the spirits for the fortuous catch. He also makes sure to tell whomsoever shall butcher the beast that its innards and entrails are to be reseved for his own use - though what use that maybe he does not deign to explain.

The turning to Vemuz and Malthas he joins the merriment "go'd catch swordfishar" he bellows as the chantyman stikes up a tune "If the Lady be willin, ye'll haf dat sailor harpoonin' like a twiceborn in no time yeh!"

dead_radish · Apr 28, 2004

Malthas winks down. "Aye, sir. Good luck indeed, as long as you aren't a shark." He calls down to Lang - "You can give the hand my grog, Mr. Lang. He deserves it, no mistake. And I'll stay with my own concoctions." He reaches into a pouch, extracts a small flask, and salutes the shark, and the sea before taking a long pull. When he closes the flask, his eyes are watering profusely, but his grin has grown as well.