barsoomcore
Unattainable Ideal
You can get your work done when you're finished reading my Story Hours, puny mortal! And that's enough of your lip!
Sheesh. Readers, never satisfied.
Sheesh. Readers, never satisfied.
-
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Dead Man's Chest -- Spooky Pirate Fun -- COMPLETE! Nov 3/06
- Thread starter barsoomcore
- Start date
barsoomcore
Unattainable Ideal
The Defiance heeled sharply, sending crates and barrels tumbling as the the mainsail caught the offshore breeze and the helmsman brought her about. She was a light, fast ship and the sailors aboard her grinned at each other in recognition of their prize's fine handling.
They'd threaded the narrow passage along the reef and now, sail bellying to the wind, prepared for the dash out of the bay and into the open waters of the Carribean. The stars overhead shone with fierce brilliance, illuminating the white beaches behind them and the dim glow of the sail ahead of them.
"Think it's another of La Buze's?"
Black hissed up at Quinn, who'd clambered up the mainmast shrouds and peered through a glass into the dark night.
"Another sloop, smaller than this one. Twelve guns, I reckon."
The lanky Irishman adjusted his position and studied the distant sail again.
"She's seen us, coming about now. Not too smartly, though. She's no Royal."
Black nodded.
"Probably a picket. They won't be expecting trouble."
He leaned over the side to study the eight gunports. They were closed now but if opened they would become eight black signs of their intent. Even in the dark it would be impossible to miss the row of gaping mouths against the whitewashed sides of the ship. As undisciplined as the pirates might be, they would be suspicious of open gunports on a supposedly friendly ship.
Inspiration struck. Black whirled to find Lieutenant Davis.
"Mister Davis!"
He kept his voice as low as he could, but his excitement kept him from being able to stay completely calm.
"A few hands below to bring up a spare sail. Lash it over the side, cover the gunports. Bring us across her bow, nice and slow. I'll be below with the gun crew."
"What if she hails us, sir?"
Black pointed at Dras.
"Mister Dras knows those dago tongues. Have him spin them a tale."
"Her, sir."
"Yes, of course. Her. Smartly, Mister Davis."
"Aye aye, sir."
Black rushed below to where the gun crews stood in eager anticipation. He rubbed his hands at the sight of the long cannon.
"Open the ports but don't run them out yet."
A sudden burst of activity as the wooden shutters sealing the gunports flipped open came to an abrupt halt. Black grinned at the eager men, all so determined to put on a disciplined show. He turned to the crew chief.
"All present and accounted for, Mister Ford?"
"Aye aye, sir. All present and accounted for."
"Guns cleaned and ready?"
"Guns cleaned and ready, aye, sir."
"Load your guns, Mister Ford, and all men stand to."
The crew chief roared out the orders and the gun deck thundered with the roll of thousands of pounds of cast metal as the crews loaded the massive guns and made ready to haul the heavy carriages forward to the open gunports, where the covering sail reduced the night's starry brilliance to a dim glow.
Up on the deck, Dras clambered up into the bowsprit with a speaking-trumpet. Beneath her the dark waves hissed into the hull as the Defiance edged along, fighting upwind to stay abreast of the other vessel. Thomas, the helmsman, kept one eye on the sail and the other on the approaching ship, gauging their progress and keeping her on just the right angle, hissing out commands to the deck crew to keep the sail trimmed.
For long silent moments the two ships moved towards one another, the Defiance a few points south of northwest and the other vessel a few points north, both heading towards a nameless, featureless point on the dark sea where their paths would intersect.
A voice called out from the other ship in French.
"Is the party over?"
Dras pitched her voice as high as she could and put a flirtatious tone into her words.
"The party's just getting started, sailor. Your boss sent me and my friends out here to keep you hard-working boys company."
A sudden cheer went up on the other vessel. The two ships were closer now, the Defiance just ahead of the other, travelling nearly parallel.
Quinn leaned over to Thomas.
"Start heaving her to."
He ran off to whisper orders to the deck crew and they swarmed up into the shrouds, apparently preparing to pull in the mainsail. The other ship followed suit, and fell behind further as her sail came down. Quinn waved to Thomas, who heaved savagely on the tiller. The Defiance turned nearly ninety degrees to port, drifting across the bow of the other ship. Now Quinn gave the signal to lower the mainsail, and the Defiance began to slow. Quinn could look across the narrow stretch of dark water to where indistinct figures milled about on the deck of the pirate vessel in apparent confusion.
Below, on the gun deck, Black felt the ship heel about and sighted through the first gunport. He saw, of course, the spare sail covering the gunports, and cursed.
"Furl that sail off the side, Mister Davis! Now!"
Lieutenant Davis was ready for the command and at his signal, four burly sailors hauled on the cables holding the sail over the side of the ship, peeling it away in a single motion, revealing the eight gaping gunports like a dark smile along the ship's side.
Black saw the bow of the other ship, not more than twenty yards away. She was the Buono Fortuna, he noted, without comprehension.
"Steady, lads, steady."
They could hear startled shouts from the other vessel as the crew realised their danger. The bow drifted across the gunport. Black waited, timing the swell of the waves so that the gun would be canted at just the right angle.
"Fire!"
Without waiting to see the fall of the shot, he scrambled through the sudden confusion of smoke and thunder to the next gun, peering out the gunport.
The bow of the Buono Fortuna had taken a direct hit, and a gaping hole just above the waterline spoke of the first gun's efficacy. Black winced at the thought of that cannonball punching straight down the length of the ship, tearing through the crew below decks and turning her insides into chaos.
"Fire!"
Ana felt the Defiance sway slightly as each cannon fired in turn. She was astonished at the unearthly power of these weapons. Holes appeared in the front of the other vessel and over the roaring guns she could hear sudden screaming and the crackling, tearing sounds of timbers blown apart. She clutched at the rail, eyes screwed shut against the terrible sight.
Dras, clinging to the bowsprit, watched in a mix of horror and excitement as smoke and fire shot from one gunport after another. She saw one cannonball erupt from the deck of the Buono Fortuna just behind the mast, tearing through the mass of men crowding around the tiller and splashing into a faint glow of white spray far off beyond the doomed ship.
Black raced from gun to gun as the Buono Fortuna began to drift more sharply along the gunports of the Defiance. Her rudder line had been cut, and in any event her crew, unprepared and mostly asleep, were unable to take any sort of coordinated action. The remaining six guns tore her bow to splinters and as she plunged into the waves, stern tilting up, Black became aware that the roaring in his ear wasn't just from the eight cannons he'd just stood beside as they fired in turn. The crew of the Defiance were yelling, cheering, firing muskets and pistols into their desperate enemies even as their ship sank beneath them.
Black charged up onto the deck as the Buono Fortuna, blown to pieces, fell apart and collapsed into wreckage. Ignoring the cheers of the crew, he turned to Lieutenant Davis.
"Pick up the survivors and press them. I'll set a course for Montserrat."
Drowning pirates screamed for aid as ropes fell from the railing of the Defiance. Some managed to grab hold, but others slid beneath the dark waves, choking and gasping. Quinn roared at his deck crew, exhorting them to help pull their defeated enemies aboard. The dripping, terrified survivors huddled on the deck, cowed by the overwhelming display of firepower.
*****
Behind the Defiance, the horizon slowly rose to swallow the peaks of Montserrat. Quinn, Dras, Ana and Black gathered for an informal conference by the stern rail, watching the wake of the ship extend itself beneath them.
Black spoke first.
"So, three days."
Quinn nodded, still sporting a spectacular shiner from the confrontation with Navy sailors in a Plymouth bar the night before. He savoured the memory of head-butting that one burly fellow, and shared a grin with Dras, whose acrobatics on the table had sent the Navy ringleader plowing right through a table full of big Norwegian whalers.
Chaos had, predictably enough, ensued, and the Defiance had picked up a fair number of crew members based on their showing in the following melee. The whole ship was now more tightly bound to each than ever, having now escaped pirates, fought a successful ship-to-ship action and managed a clear victory in a no-holds-barred bar brawl. Crews went about their duties with cheerful chatter, bragging about their exploits to each other and telling stories of their "command team" -- Dras and Quinn and Ana and Black. Those four had managed the impossible three times now: escaping from Firewatch Island with Lieutenant Davis and handfuls of gold, stealing the prize sloop of a notorious pirate, and now leading the crew to victory against uneven odds. They told of how Dras had fought blade-to-blade against a Navy lieutenant and come away the victor, how Black had rallied the entire crew and driven the rest of the Royals back, how Ana's archery had knocked broken bottles out of meaty hands, pinned cloaks to walls and so startled the enemy that they gave back before lesser numbers, and of Quinn's great bare-knuckle fight against the biggest of the whole Navy crew.
There seemed to be nothing impossible for these four. The crew had formed a united group, the "old Ascots" joined with the former pirates of Oliver La Buze and the new Plymouth crewmembers into a focused group, convinced their fortunes were soon to be made.
Ana, whose once-respectable English garments were giving way to less-modest island garb, repeated Black's statement.
"Three days. He'll get to Aruba before us."
Dras shrugged.
"Bushiribana's our only lead. We've got one skull now..."
The others shivered at the memory of the horrid artifact secured in the captain's cabin.
"...and Domino's on his way to Aruba to get another."
Quinn asked the obvious question.
"Why are we trying to collect these skulls?"
They all looked at each. The wake of the Defiance lengthened. The mountains of Montserrat sank further below the horizon.
Black coughed.
"Because, well, I think we all agree. Those skulls are... heathen artifacts. More than that. They are... not to beat around the bush, they are evil."
He coughed again.
Dras shrugged in her casual manner.
"Right. Evil skulls plus evil sorcerer equals something we have to stop. So we chase Monsignor Domino around, and do what we can to take the skulls away from him. Then, I don't know, destroy them somehow. So we start off talking to this guy Fawn in Aruba. If he provided information for Domino maybe he's got information for us. And this is a fast little ship. We might get to Aruba ahead of Domino, right, Black?"
"We might indeed. At which point, I suppose he starts chasing us around."
The mountains could no longer be seen. The Defiance sailed alone across the featureless sea.
They'd threaded the narrow passage along the reef and now, sail bellying to the wind, prepared for the dash out of the bay and into the open waters of the Carribean. The stars overhead shone with fierce brilliance, illuminating the white beaches behind them and the dim glow of the sail ahead of them.
"Think it's another of La Buze's?"
Black hissed up at Quinn, who'd clambered up the mainmast shrouds and peered through a glass into the dark night.
"Another sloop, smaller than this one. Twelve guns, I reckon."
The lanky Irishman adjusted his position and studied the distant sail again.
"She's seen us, coming about now. Not too smartly, though. She's no Royal."
Black nodded.
"Probably a picket. They won't be expecting trouble."
He leaned over the side to study the eight gunports. They were closed now but if opened they would become eight black signs of their intent. Even in the dark it would be impossible to miss the row of gaping mouths against the whitewashed sides of the ship. As undisciplined as the pirates might be, they would be suspicious of open gunports on a supposedly friendly ship.
Inspiration struck. Black whirled to find Lieutenant Davis.
"Mister Davis!"
He kept his voice as low as he could, but his excitement kept him from being able to stay completely calm.
"A few hands below to bring up a spare sail. Lash it over the side, cover the gunports. Bring us across her bow, nice and slow. I'll be below with the gun crew."
"What if she hails us, sir?"
Black pointed at Dras.
"Mister Dras knows those dago tongues. Have him spin them a tale."
"Her, sir."
"Yes, of course. Her. Smartly, Mister Davis."
"Aye aye, sir."
Black rushed below to where the gun crews stood in eager anticipation. He rubbed his hands at the sight of the long cannon.
"Open the ports but don't run them out yet."
A sudden burst of activity as the wooden shutters sealing the gunports flipped open came to an abrupt halt. Black grinned at the eager men, all so determined to put on a disciplined show. He turned to the crew chief.
"All present and accounted for, Mister Ford?"
"Aye aye, sir. All present and accounted for."
"Guns cleaned and ready?"
"Guns cleaned and ready, aye, sir."
"Load your guns, Mister Ford, and all men stand to."
The crew chief roared out the orders and the gun deck thundered with the roll of thousands of pounds of cast metal as the crews loaded the massive guns and made ready to haul the heavy carriages forward to the open gunports, where the covering sail reduced the night's starry brilliance to a dim glow.
Up on the deck, Dras clambered up into the bowsprit with a speaking-trumpet. Beneath her the dark waves hissed into the hull as the Defiance edged along, fighting upwind to stay abreast of the other vessel. Thomas, the helmsman, kept one eye on the sail and the other on the approaching ship, gauging their progress and keeping her on just the right angle, hissing out commands to the deck crew to keep the sail trimmed.
For long silent moments the two ships moved towards one another, the Defiance a few points south of northwest and the other vessel a few points north, both heading towards a nameless, featureless point on the dark sea where their paths would intersect.
A voice called out from the other ship in French.
"Is the party over?"
Dras pitched her voice as high as she could and put a flirtatious tone into her words.
"The party's just getting started, sailor. Your boss sent me and my friends out here to keep you hard-working boys company."
A sudden cheer went up on the other vessel. The two ships were closer now, the Defiance just ahead of the other, travelling nearly parallel.
Quinn leaned over to Thomas.
"Start heaving her to."
He ran off to whisper orders to the deck crew and they swarmed up into the shrouds, apparently preparing to pull in the mainsail. The other ship followed suit, and fell behind further as her sail came down. Quinn waved to Thomas, who heaved savagely on the tiller. The Defiance turned nearly ninety degrees to port, drifting across the bow of the other ship. Now Quinn gave the signal to lower the mainsail, and the Defiance began to slow. Quinn could look across the narrow stretch of dark water to where indistinct figures milled about on the deck of the pirate vessel in apparent confusion.
Below, on the gun deck, Black felt the ship heel about and sighted through the first gunport. He saw, of course, the spare sail covering the gunports, and cursed.
"Furl that sail off the side, Mister Davis! Now!"
Lieutenant Davis was ready for the command and at his signal, four burly sailors hauled on the cables holding the sail over the side of the ship, peeling it away in a single motion, revealing the eight gaping gunports like a dark smile along the ship's side.
Black saw the bow of the other ship, not more than twenty yards away. She was the Buono Fortuna, he noted, without comprehension.
"Steady, lads, steady."
They could hear startled shouts from the other vessel as the crew realised their danger. The bow drifted across the gunport. Black waited, timing the swell of the waves so that the gun would be canted at just the right angle.
"Fire!"
Without waiting to see the fall of the shot, he scrambled through the sudden confusion of smoke and thunder to the next gun, peering out the gunport.
The bow of the Buono Fortuna had taken a direct hit, and a gaping hole just above the waterline spoke of the first gun's efficacy. Black winced at the thought of that cannonball punching straight down the length of the ship, tearing through the crew below decks and turning her insides into chaos.
"Fire!"
Ana felt the Defiance sway slightly as each cannon fired in turn. She was astonished at the unearthly power of these weapons. Holes appeared in the front of the other vessel and over the roaring guns she could hear sudden screaming and the crackling, tearing sounds of timbers blown apart. She clutched at the rail, eyes screwed shut against the terrible sight.
Dras, clinging to the bowsprit, watched in a mix of horror and excitement as smoke and fire shot from one gunport after another. She saw one cannonball erupt from the deck of the Buono Fortuna just behind the mast, tearing through the mass of men crowding around the tiller and splashing into a faint glow of white spray far off beyond the doomed ship.
Black raced from gun to gun as the Buono Fortuna began to drift more sharply along the gunports of the Defiance. Her rudder line had been cut, and in any event her crew, unprepared and mostly asleep, were unable to take any sort of coordinated action. The remaining six guns tore her bow to splinters and as she plunged into the waves, stern tilting up, Black became aware that the roaring in his ear wasn't just from the eight cannons he'd just stood beside as they fired in turn. The crew of the Defiance were yelling, cheering, firing muskets and pistols into their desperate enemies even as their ship sank beneath them.
Black charged up onto the deck as the Buono Fortuna, blown to pieces, fell apart and collapsed into wreckage. Ignoring the cheers of the crew, he turned to Lieutenant Davis.
"Pick up the survivors and press them. I'll set a course for Montserrat."
Drowning pirates screamed for aid as ropes fell from the railing of the Defiance. Some managed to grab hold, but others slid beneath the dark waves, choking and gasping. Quinn roared at his deck crew, exhorting them to help pull their defeated enemies aboard. The dripping, terrified survivors huddled on the deck, cowed by the overwhelming display of firepower.
*****
Behind the Defiance, the horizon slowly rose to swallow the peaks of Montserrat. Quinn, Dras, Ana and Black gathered for an informal conference by the stern rail, watching the wake of the ship extend itself beneath them.
Black spoke first.
"So, three days."
Quinn nodded, still sporting a spectacular shiner from the confrontation with Navy sailors in a Plymouth bar the night before. He savoured the memory of head-butting that one burly fellow, and shared a grin with Dras, whose acrobatics on the table had sent the Navy ringleader plowing right through a table full of big Norwegian whalers.
Chaos had, predictably enough, ensued, and the Defiance had picked up a fair number of crew members based on their showing in the following melee. The whole ship was now more tightly bound to each than ever, having now escaped pirates, fought a successful ship-to-ship action and managed a clear victory in a no-holds-barred bar brawl. Crews went about their duties with cheerful chatter, bragging about their exploits to each other and telling stories of their "command team" -- Dras and Quinn and Ana and Black. Those four had managed the impossible three times now: escaping from Firewatch Island with Lieutenant Davis and handfuls of gold, stealing the prize sloop of a notorious pirate, and now leading the crew to victory against uneven odds. They told of how Dras had fought blade-to-blade against a Navy lieutenant and come away the victor, how Black had rallied the entire crew and driven the rest of the Royals back, how Ana's archery had knocked broken bottles out of meaty hands, pinned cloaks to walls and so startled the enemy that they gave back before lesser numbers, and of Quinn's great bare-knuckle fight against the biggest of the whole Navy crew.
There seemed to be nothing impossible for these four. The crew had formed a united group, the "old Ascots" joined with the former pirates of Oliver La Buze and the new Plymouth crewmembers into a focused group, convinced their fortunes were soon to be made.
Ana, whose once-respectable English garments were giving way to less-modest island garb, repeated Black's statement.
"Three days. He'll get to Aruba before us."
Dras shrugged.
"Bushiribana's our only lead. We've got one skull now..."
The others shivered at the memory of the horrid artifact secured in the captain's cabin.
"...and Domino's on his way to Aruba to get another."
Quinn asked the obvious question.
"Why are we trying to collect these skulls?"
They all looked at each. The wake of the Defiance lengthened. The mountains of Montserrat sank further below the horizon.
Black coughed.
"Because, well, I think we all agree. Those skulls are... heathen artifacts. More than that. They are... not to beat around the bush, they are evil."
He coughed again.
Dras shrugged in her casual manner.
"Right. Evil skulls plus evil sorcerer equals something we have to stop. So we chase Monsignor Domino around, and do what we can to take the skulls away from him. Then, I don't know, destroy them somehow. So we start off talking to this guy Fawn in Aruba. If he provided information for Domino maybe he's got information for us. And this is a fast little ship. We might get to Aruba ahead of Domino, right, Black?"
"We might indeed. At which point, I suppose he starts chasing us around."
The mountains could no longer be seen. The Defiance sailed alone across the featureless sea.
barsoomcore
Unattainable Ideal
Man, it was HUMILIATING. We're getting set up for our first ship-to-ship action, I've got a tabletop map and little ship figures set up...
And they sink her in go. Blew the opposing ship to pieces. I actually went to the S&B boards to see if I'd misread the rules. Couldn't believe it. One broadside against a ship of equal size and she's not just sinking, she's completely freaking destroyed.
This actually starts a trend, as you'll see. My players thoroughly kicked my butt at naval combat. It's pretty embarrassing.
The player playing Black is a long-time devotee of Hornblower, Ramage and Patrick O'Brian. He had more tricks up his sleeve than I could keep up with. Remember, he also got the gunner to build him some anti-personnel grenadoes, AND built the trap in the house on Firewatch to keep the zombis at bay.
And they sink her in go. Blew the opposing ship to pieces. I actually went to the S&B boards to see if I'd misread the rules. Couldn't believe it. One broadside against a ship of equal size and she's not just sinking, she's completely freaking destroyed.
This actually starts a trend, as you'll see. My players thoroughly kicked my butt at naval combat. It's pretty embarrassing.
The player playing Black is a long-time devotee of Hornblower, Ramage and Patrick O'Brian. He had more tricks up his sleeve than I could keep up with. Remember, he also got the gunner to build him some anti-personnel grenadoes, AND built the trap in the house on Firewatch to keep the zombis at bay.
trilobite
Explorer
That’s one thing I didn't like about the Skull and Bones rules. It's way too easy to sink an enemy ship with cannon fire. Who ever got the first broadside in won. It might be more realistic but I don't want that. I want a ship battle to be cinematic! Something out of an Errol Flynn movie.
barsoomcore
Unattainable Ideal
Yeah, I'd definitely scale down the damage (or up the hit points) if I run another campaign on this system.
KABOOM!
It WAS pretty funny that very first time though. They were rolling the damage and it became obvious the ship had been nearly disintegrated and I was just staring, going, "Uh...."
After that I tried to keep my ships out of line, but Black was really good at maneuvering and just kept wiping me off the board.
I'm just not a wargamer. Sigh.
KABOOM!
It WAS pretty funny that very first time though. They were rolling the damage and it became obvious the ship had been nearly disintegrated and I was just staring, going, "Uh...."
After that I tried to keep my ships out of line, but Black was really good at maneuvering and just kept wiping me off the board.
I'm just not a wargamer. Sigh.
MonsterMash
First Post
Good stuff once again.
Makes me keen to run Skull and Bones, though I'd check out the naval rules if it's that easy to sink a ship, though having a raking fire like that would do a huge amount of damage, but mostly to the crew rather than the vessel.
Makes me keen to run Skull and Bones, though I'd check out the naval rules if it's that easy to sink a ship, though having a raking fire like that would do a huge amount of damage, but mostly to the crew rather than the vessel.
barsoomcore
Unattainable Ideal
Actually, GM Skarka and I went back and forth about it a bit. His position is that this IS realistic. Broadsides from equally-sized ships at short range are pretty much going to blow the other ship out of the water. Pirates wouldn't ordinarily fire broadsides, anyway. They're less concerned with SINKING enemy ships -- they want to TAKE the ships as prizes.
But it was funny. The players were cheering and high-fiving and I'm all, "I'll get you next time," and...
well, you'll see how well I did next time. Sigh.
But it was funny. The players were cheering and high-fiving and I'm all, "I'll get you next time," and...
well, you'll see how well I did next time. Sigh.
barsoomcore
Unattainable Ideal
Consider me encouraged.
