Deep Water and Shoals - A Swashbuckling Campaign

[Bob Aberton]

Reiter,

The other man, an older, weatherbeaten fellow peers at you shrewdly.

"Barley wheat, eh? As good a story as any, I guess," he says. He extends his hand. "Captain Roger T. McCrenshaw, of the CALYPSO'S GRACE. We came upriver t' get a cargo o' tobacco, but we got caught in a fog an' the cowardly sons of sea-cooks who were with us up an' ran, an' took the raft, to boot."

Although his right hand reaches out in greeting, his left hand still hovers near one of the pistols in his belt. The two pistols and cutlass constitute his only weaponry.

Nicodemus,

You awake to find the kettle cheerfully whistling, with Artimus tending it and chattering contentedly.

At precisely 9am, Mr. Lang being a punctual man, you hear a knock on your cabin door.

Mr. Lang stands in the corridor, his clothes brushed, cravat tied neatly and "squared to a T," wig powdered, and his hat under his left arm.

"Good morning, Mr. Arfaliunium," he says, apparently making an effort to keep his customary severity out of his voice. "I recieved a message last evening to the effect that you had invited me to tea this morning. May I come in?"

Malachi,

You learn the news of the day from Ben Stern, standing the morning anchor watch. Standishtown being a fairly sleepy little port, he has very little to tell you.

"As to that ruckus in th' tavern las' night, I've got a mate as just came off shore leave, an' he says thet folk are still kind of ruffled about it...I'm afraid, sir, thet y'r not very popular among the clam diggers right now."

Aside from that, you do learn that LA ALCURAN and the CHRISTOPHER C. WILLS are apparently leaving harbor, bound south, with their cargoes only half completed.

"Aye sir, they left in a tearin' hurry, just this mornin', left two dozen hogshead o' Standishtown longleaf lyin' on th' wharf. Gave out they were bound south, but they didn't carry enough cargo to make a profit if they were headed t' Saint-Yves," Stern informs you.

Also of note, you learn that Captain McCrenshaw, Jonah, and the Standishtown boatmen are nearly a day overdue at the tobacco plantations. Standishtowners who live at the edge of the forests come into town laden with rumors of elven aggression against solitary travellers and remote farms and plantations.

 

[Reiter]

heya

He shook it, not bothering to keep his hand anywhere near a weapon.

He once again spoke with that gravelly croak, "Cap'n, aye? Well, here i was looking for survival and I find such a reputable man as yourself. He says, then adds, "I'm naught but a sailor, but if you've any hands short the Fountaine no doubt left me for dead a week ago."

Shoulders raised and lowered in an uncaring, dismissive gesture. He looks about their surrounding, "Where ya headed?"

 

[Tonguez]

"Aye sir, they left in a tearin' hurry, just this mornin', left two dozen hogshead o' Standishtown longleaf lyin' on th' wharf. Gave out they were bound south, but they didn't carry enough cargo to make a profit if they were headed t' Saint-Yves," Stern informs you.

"Goin' Sout'" Malachi muses looking in that direction and racking his brain over what might lie that way such as would move the ships in such a hurry leaving valuable cargo behind
"dhats a mystrie indeed, what d'ya t'ink lies dhere Mr Stern?" he wonders aloud

He grimaces at mention of the tavern incident, happy to be aboard ship and not out on the street - it is easy to guess what the clamdiggers are barking for, and involntarily Malachi rubs at his throat.

"Dhe capitan?" Malachi is most concerned at this news "dhats no gud may Calypso keep hem. Is Mr Lang sendin' a party aut? Ah bes' be talkin' wit' him..."

 

[Bob Aberton]

Reiter,

The captain lowers his hand away from his weapon.

"Matter of fact, the CALYPSO'S GRACE is kind of short on crew right now...we're bound for pirate waters, see, and I'm lookin' for the sort thet know their way 'round a weapon or two, y'know, 'stand by t' repell boarders,' an' all thet. Are you a good hand with those toothpicks o' yours?" He gestures at the various darts and stilettos slung on their bandoliers and sheathed in your vest.

Malachi,

Stern looks puzzled.

"Well, way down south a ways, there's Saint Yves, but they couldn't ha' been bound there; they didn' have enough cargo t' trade for even a few hogshead o' pepper, or above a few tons o' sugar. Between Saint-Yves an' here, there ain't nothin' but uninhabited coast, maybe a fishin' village or two, but nowhere big enough to land or get a cargo. Must be somethin' mighty profitable, though, as they didn't say nothin' to no one, not even t' th' harbor master, they just up anchor and left."

As to Mr. Lang, you learn that he is, at the moment, breakfasting with the Ship's Mage, Mr. Arfaliunium.

 

[Reiter]

Hrm

Reiter shrugged, he looked down at the various weapons. In an action almost to quick to follow, a dart is held precariously between two fingers. The long sharp point leads to a small place to grip, then 3 straight fins for aerodynamics. He pushes his arm forward, and the dart becomes a shaft of light, and a THUNK immediately follows.

He smirks, his aim was true. The silver dart pierces a tear of green, he nailed a falling leaf to a tree. "I used to play for money. Now I play for much more." The ugly sneer of his seems to take a sharper point, and he walks over to retreive the dart.

 

[Uriel]

Nicodemus welcomes Mr. Lang in, having Arti serve tea and biscuits to the guest.
Smiling, Nico says 'I just wanted to apologize fer any harshness I had in me tone last night, Mr. Lang. We all got a bit Mad at seeing that lubber try and shiv one of our Mates. Like you were'a sayin, though, I think laying low would be a good idea, these Standishtowners seem bent on trouble with good honest Seamen like ourselves. I fer one can spend the rest of me time here in town working on Scrolls and such fer the next Voyage..' Nico shows Mr. Lang the invoices for the supplies that he purchased and indicates a list of scrolls and such (sunrods,antitoxins etc...) that he intends to create.
Sipping his tea (which Arti has made too strong...AGAIN), Nico glances at the Howler for a sec, then offers Mr. Lang a bit of cream that he had the Monkey pick up at Market this morning (he never did get any change from that Silver, either...).

 

[Bob Aberton]

Reiter,

The captain looks mildly impressed.

"Welcome t' the crew, Mr...?"

Nicodemus,

Mr. Lang doesn't flinch as he sips the strong tea.

"Your apology is most graciously accepted, Mr. Arfaliunium," says Mr. Lang. "You know, there are some that would consider that tongue-lashing well deserved; I know that some consider me rather too taut with the other members of this crew."

He examines your invoice with interest.

"You know," he says, trying very hard to be conversational (he exudes the air of someone who is not used to speaking much in a social setting). "It never ceases to amaze me what power a mere roll of parchment can be made to hold."

 

[Tonguez]

Stern looks puzzled.

"Well, way down south a ways, there's Saint Yves, but they couldn't ha' been bound there; they didn' have enough cargo t' trade for even a few hogshead o' pepper, or above a few tons o' sugar. Between Saint-Yves an' here, there ain't nothin' but uninhabited coast, maybe a fishin' village or two, but nowhere big enough to land or get a cargo. Must be somethin' mighty profitable, though, as they didn't say nothin' to no one, not even t' th' harbor master, they just up anchor and left."

As to Mr. Lang, you learn that he is, at the moment, breakfasting with the Ship's Mage, Mr. Arfaliunium.

"Pyrats ahn' adventurers be dhe only ones dhat go off like dhat" the half-orc muses "Ah don't trust what dhey be doin' - an' wit' dhe capitan missin' dhere may be somt'ing dev'lish hap'ning.

Ahm goin t' see Mr Lang and dhe Mage"

with that the Navigator strides across the deck towards Mr. Arfaliuniums cabin and knocks eager to find out what be happening.

 

[Reiter]

"...Reiter," He responds.

He yanks the dart from the tree, and slides the leaf off of the point. He slides it back into it's place and his eyes dart back to the two men. He throws the jacket over his shoulder, and looks up at the sky, waiting to be led.

 

[Bob Aberton]

Reiter and Jonah,

"Alright, let's be off, then. Th' plantation's still a good ten or twelve hours walk from here," says the captain. He takes one more look at the sky to get his bearings, and sets off upriver once more.

Nicodemus,

As you are about to reply to Mr. Lang's comment, you hear someone knocking on the door, rather urgently.

Malachi,

The sailor, Stern, frowns at the mention your mention of "adventurers."

"Could be thet," he concedes. "there's some as don't want t' obey th' Adventurin' Laws; I bet there'd be some business in smugglin' 'em down here an' landin' on th' deserted coast in hopes they'll strike it rich, like the old days.

On t'other hand, maybe these captains have some kind o' dealin's with the grugach, which ain't a good thing neither."

You leave him to his conjecturing.

You can hear a low buzz of polite conversation emanating from the thin cabin door. Mr. Lang is apparently making a great attempt to be social, something which he does not give the impression of being good at.