Deep Water and Shoals - A Swashbuckling Campaign

OoC: 500 eh....Mmm...
I'll spend another 300 on Scroll materials if he has that much as well as spending the other 200
on alchemical supplies (I'll work up a list when I am near a PH).


IC: After buying his supplies, Nico will head back to the ship to deposit them, then on to the Bar that the other Sailors went to.

Vemuz

Malachi scratches his nose befor looking back up at the twice-born
"'ard t'say Swordfishar" he grins "som islan's, sea, a reef or two, an' perhaps a mystery? - Why y'so coorios abou' tit?"

(okay Bob so what is in the missing spot? - or do I get to make this up?)

Antheos

At the grog shop, at a table that, tho inhabited, seems empty to Antheos. The few sailors chatted, and he heard, but didn't listen. His attention was across the room, at the crewmen of the Calypso's Grace. He seemed a little less dirty than the working men, and the presence of a long-necked, fine yarting at his side only enhanced the seeming.

Dark blonde hair was held back by a black bandana, it tied and the escess hanging down his back. His hair spilled from the bandana onto his shoulders. Pale blue eyes seemed to shine in the dim lit environment of the grog shop.

He wore a thick, long jacket, with a fine collar and sleeves folded back at the cuff. Deep red material lined in black. He wore it open, with no shirt under, exposing parts of his fair torso. His heavily belted pants clung to his flesh, and his knee high boots bore an inordinate amount of buckles. He was without weapon.

He stood, taking yarting into hand and shouldering it by way of a strap. He walks over to the crew his eyes and ears had been diverted to. His voice is soft, with a practiced tone, making it pleasing to the ear, more especially to the female ear. "Hey boys, is your captain in need of crewmen?"

the new guy

A head shot of Antheos.

Malachi,

(OOC: You get to make up what the island is like)

Antheos,

A pair of crewmen, a tall, thin Iberrean with a pair of drooping mustachioes, and a stout, florid faced man in a checked shirt, look up from their rum to regard you.

"P'raps...can y' pull a rope, or is thet thing yer on'y recommendation?" asks the man in the checked shirt, pointing to your yarting.

Maltas,

He peers about, seeking lasses that are either part of the short folk (though no dwarves), or at least ones that seem not to mind his stature.

Click to expand...

As you spin your yarns, scanning the barroom for likely-looking lasses, one drifts into your peripheral vision, balancing a tray of rum tumblers rather too large for her.

She wears the typical outfit of a barmaid - low cut bodice, form-fitting dress, and a bold smile that borders on the brazen. Her flashing eyes are dark, and her hair is in glossy black ringlets. She has a full mouth and all of the other assets of beauty, though, being only 4 feet tall, does not attract as much attention from the other sailors as the mostly human prostitutes getting comfortable with various of the assembled company.

Well... no...

He looks down at his dexterious fingers, "I'm intimate with the helm, these digits manipulate more than just strings."

He puts a hand to his belt, and out of a velvet pouch he produces a fine tool, this particular one costing more than most men will ever see in their lifetime. A spyglass, worth as much as two full pounds of platinum. He shows it to the men only long enough for them to realize what it is, if they have never seen such an instrument before hiding it away again.

"I also bring a quick eye and quicker wit."

Tonguez said:

Why y'so coorios abou' tit?

Click to expand...

"I've been trying to remember stories from back home, and I couldn't remember what was there. It's been a long while since I've been back." Vemuz grins, but even his grin is forceful and overbearing. "Maybe I will visit soon, eh? Now, what's this about a mystery? You seem to have struck a chord -- some lost memory coming back..."

OOC: Wings - Is that an image of Elios?

IC: Malthas grins, and waves the lass over when he gets a moment. "Never ta' thought I'd find a fine lady such as yourself in such a place, lass. Did you pretty yourself up just for the unnoticing Big Folk, or do you always look such a vision?"

OOC2: Does Malthas overhear the conversation with Antheos? Malthas is such fun to have in a tavern. I'm considering breaking at least three rules of good tavern behavoir today.

Not the Official DM Post...

Malthas,

Balancing her tray precariously in one hand, the woman smiles at you encouragingly.

"Oh, well," she says lightly. "I don't pretty myself up for the Big Folk anyway - all they care is that I'm the right height to give 'em a nice view. But something told me I'd be meeting a dashin' young tar today who's my just my size."

She hands a tumbler of rum up to a sailor nearby, then turns back to you.

"An' if you think I'm a vision in the middle of a six-odd hour grog watch, you should see me before," she says, then adds with a wink: "Or perhaps after..."

(OOC: Yes, you can overhear Anteos)

Anteos,

The checked sailor's mouth falls open at the sight of the spyglass.

"Calypso's drawers," he says in awe. "Thet thing's worth 2 platinum, 'r my name ain't Lem Harvey. What are y', an' h'officer 'r somethin'? Thet's a sight near a two year's wages fer a tar."

Malthas grins at the barmaid, and sighs theatrically. "Aye, lass, would that I could. If only I knew where you might be found after the shift, I might well do that."

He also listens with half an ear to the conversation with the newcomer.