(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.