D&D 5E Spell & Crossbones
- Thread starter Quickleaf
- Start date
Quickleaf
Legend
A look across the ranks of skulduggerous rogues frequenting Blackreef's Tavern reveals several familiar faces...
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There is Ulsta, of course, the indefatigable dwarven bar mistress...[/SECTION][SECTION]
...and Fulke 'Mad Eyes' Smyth, an old drinking friend of Katerina's, who is being heckled by several drunks after failing to get the "singing pirates" to shut up...[/SECTION][SECTION]
...then there were those you'd already recruited to your crew, including the 13 Dutch dwarven deserters of the destroyed Leeuwen, led by Viatrix de Smit...[/SECTION][SECTION]
...and the 9 rowdy Courlandian (Latvian) mercenaries represented by the arm-wrestling Gvido Berzins.[/SECTION]Others present in the tavern who might make for serviceable crew mates include...
A dozen loose-lipped pirates down on their luck complain about itching for a big score, yet drink themselves under the table all the same. A thick-necked pot-bellied pirate named Rounder is their sullen leader, cussing about the "black spot" to a bartender clearly weary of listening to the men's troubles.
A small gang of lads – porters, deckhands, and waifs – are trying to convince Ulsta to give them some ale so they can use it to get the "dock monkeys" drunk...there seems to be a more involved explanation that involves lots of hand-waving and excited head nodding. Ulsta, of course, remains unimpressed.
Nine armed men study a map intently in one of the booths, marking it up with red charcoal. Though they seem aggravated at not finding whatever it is they're hunting for, they can afford to keep the ales coming, so someone is paying them well.
Conspicuously absent from the tavern are any of the crew from Captain Reed Wallace's The Winchelsea; apparently, he has them hard at work tonight.
Noting the absence of Wallace's men, Nia frowns slightly. Whatever they were doing, it wouldn't be good for her crew.
Perhaps there was something else she might do tonight.
"Captain," she murmured, stepping closer to Kat, "Will you be needing me here? I am tinking a pair of eyes to see what our rival is up to would be useful."
Perhaps there was something else she might do tonight.
"Captain," she murmured, stepping closer to Kat, "Will you be needing me here? I am tinking a pair of eyes to see what our rival is up to would be useful."
Quickleaf
Legend
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"Aye, aye, hold your seahorses y' damn–" comes a gruff booming voice from within the octagonal gaol. When the door is jerked open, a massive man with brutish features midway between man and ogre fills the doorframe, some seven feet tall. Dusty white brows that nearly met in the middle furrow as he quickly curtails his use of foul language around the two "priests." "Ah...ahem...No one told me to expect you, fathers. News trickles down to the prison like a sieve of...well, never mind that," he clears his throat, and steps to the side, peg leg clacking across the flagstones of the gaol's administrative office. The 'administrative office' is spartan, accounting for a few stools, a disheveled cabinet of papers, a desk with burn marks from pistol shots, a chest, several sets of keys hanging on one wall, and a small weapons rack with a variety of gruesome polearms against the far wall. Spiral stairs both descend down and wrap upward.
"I suppose it's only fair, th' f-- the Spaniards have the same God as the rest of us, aye? You have come to give last rites to them, haven't you?" Limping over to the desk, the brutish man gestures for you to take seats before easing himself down opposite you with a bit of effort; the chair seems to barely support his girth. "Crispus Cotton is the name. Steward of this prison by appointment o' Blackbeard himself. You must be the new priests fresh off the boat? Don't recognize your faces. Then again, can't say we get many men of your vocation down this way. But if you're drunk and disorderly enough, I suppose you could end up in a cell all the same, just like Father O'Maley." He winks a bushy brow.[/SECTION]
Queenie
Queen of Everything
"Nawww, I'm okay," Kat smiled at her friend, "I've been way drunker myshelf." She frowned at her own sentence, then shrugged. "I knows the way home just fine."
"Before you go, whaddya think of thoshe scurvy dogs? The onesh with the map? Or that group of underfed boysh? We could use both I'd dareshay."
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Blaise lowered his head in a respectful nod and lifted his hand to make the sign of the cross, “The Lord’s blessings upon you, Mister Cotton. We do apologize for the lack of notice. My fellow and I are visitors to the island. We are actually headed to establish a mission on the continent, but our ship’s captain wanted to stop to refresh his supplies before we finish our journey. We sought out the church to pray and offer a hand if needed. When we arrived, we were told of the upcoming execution and asked if we could administer last rites to your prisoners.”
“Would you mind showing us the way?”
“Would you mind showing us the way?”
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Etienne stands up and with a low but imperious voice says to the jailor: "My son, we can imagine you are fond of the Eartly pleasures but remembers the Lord is watching from the Sky and your immortal soul may burn in Hell if you don't confess your crimes before you die. Those poors Spaniards' destination is the deepest of the 7 hells. They are condemned to suffer eternal pain and we must relieve it a little.
Remember that those who remain miscreant will also burn in Hell. Please confess your crimes yourself, my son, before your immortal soul withers and you are unable to come back from damnation path!"
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Quickleaf
Legend
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Crispus Cotton's prolific bushy brows raise in surprise, "A mission? Why, your captain has made a peculiar decision in making berth in Godless Nassau. I can see why you'd wish to tend to the souls here, father, but Ol' Blackbeard said nothing about you coming, and on account of these Spanish prisoners being a sensitive situation, I'm afraid I can't––" He seems to forgive your sudden appearance and lack of familiarity with the name O'Malley, but isn't yet convinced that you should be let in.Weighing Etienne's words, the half-ogrish man frowns, "You speak true, father, the Hellfire frightens me as much as the deep oceans of Neptune. Er, forgive me. Aye, I'm a sinner, s'truth." Reaching into his inner vest pocket, Mr. Cotton pulls out a whiskey flask, offering to pour you each some in earthen goblets before himself taking a swig. "Well, the drink was my first sin. As soon as I had my first bottle of rum, I had to have another. They say it were on account of my father, Longshanks he were called, having no tolerance for rum, or barley beer, or flower wine, or whiskey, or... And what's worse, I hates to drink alone, so I'm always sharing what bounty He gives me, Lord forgive me...."
"Well, and then there's the fact that I can't resist scaring children with my cruelest most devilish face so they don't peek into the jail cells; surely, that is a sin, for the innocence of children is like unto the lambs, so says the Good Book...
"Oh, and I am a horrible cheat. I mean, every time I try to cheat at cards, one of the old timers will catch me with a card in my ear or up my sleeve, or dog-earing my cards. Every time. Surely, he who fails at cheating is twice as miserable a wretch as the cheat who gets away with it, and for him the Hellfire is hotter?" Mr. Cotton gnaws his lower lip, but doesn't yet seem convinced to let you pass.[/SECTION]
Blaise looks deeply saddened by the confession, “My child, these are grave sins. By your own confession, you have willfully given yourself to drunkenness and carried others into it with you. You have also sought to steal from your brothers through deception which has broken the eighth and tenth commandments of our Lord. Take heart though, my child. The Lord is abundant in mercy. For those who are remorseful of their sin, the Lord has provided for the forgiveness of sins through penance. The touch of hellfire needs to never scorch your soul. Your actions have shown your lack of love for your fellow man. Your penance should answer that. The Spaniards deserve the same opportunity that you are receiving. Show your penance by allowing us to go and offer it to them while you remain here and pray to God in remorse for your sins.”
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Nia frowned slightly and surveyed the room, her peculiar eyes lingering on the pirates Kat called out.
"De ones wit' de map would need watchin.' Dey will not want to share what dey seek, even if we convince dem we will help dem find it. De boys will be a handful...but dey can still learn. But dey are young, not seasoned. Some may break if tested severely."
She looked back at Kat.
"Follow you instincts. If it comes to a choice between dem, I would say go wit' de younger ones. If we earn dere respect, we ken trust dem."
Quickleaf
Legend
[SECTION]
Bowing his head remorsefully, Crispus Cotton makes the sign of the cross over his barrel chest though even this he gets confused, going from right to left instead of left to right. "Willfully, aye. Stealing, aye." He murmurs, bobbing his large head in agreement with the "priest's" diagnosis. "I do need the Lord's mercy, father, I do. Then I shall say my prayers for my sins." Easing himself down on the knee of his peg leg, the half-ogre clasps his meaty hands together. "Don't think unkindly on me, Oh Lord, for frightening the children, as the little troublemakers like to throw clods at the windows and peek through the bars here real danger is kept imprisoned. And please don't send me to the Hellfire, for I sweat horribly in this tropical heat..." He clenches his eyes tight, focusing on his prayers.He scarcely notices you lift the heavy iron hoop of keys from the wall behind him and head upward to the spiral stairs leading to the prison cells.[/SECTION]
Bold words... While listening to Blaise' sermon, he just consider how much he would need redemption himself for all his sins. The last parson he rubbed elbows with was that poor wretch he tortured decaces ago during the War. Just before he become disgusted with himself and left the militia to join the Navy- just to stop obey his militia chaplain, a religious fanatic who wants all protestant clergymen dead.
This is at that time he stopped to be catholic. After the end of the war, He fleed to the Natives land, to be one of them...
He just remembers that while entering what seems to be Hell's door... He counts the stairs and makes an oath to himself to keep that many percent of his share of the loot to give to an english church....
But first, he must act as a truchement (an interpret) with the Spaniards. Maybe they will give them juicy information on Blackbeard or the Gloriosa.
He just hope there will be no further guard upstairs. He doesn't feel like pretending to be a priest anymore...
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Queenie
Queen of Everything
Kat nodded thoughtfully for a moment. "Very well, I take both of your councils." She placed a hand on Nia's shoulder, "Be off with you if you have shomeplace better to be my friend. We will meet in the morning."
"You coming?" she nodded to Jacques, before heading over to the young boys.
"So what's thish all about boysh? What are we on about?"
"You coming?" she nodded to Jacques, before heading over to the young boys.
"So what's thish all about boysh? What are we on about?"
Quickleaf
Legend
Feet scraping along the wooden stairs, Blaise and Etienne reach the prison proper on the second floor of the gaol. A dozing old snaggle-toothed Scottish deerhound lazily cracks one eye open, whining slightly at the unfamiliar scents as its head slumps back down. Only two of the eight cells are occupied. One contains a man dressed in pirate leathers with a broad hat covering his face lounging in a half-sleeping state along a wooden bench. Across the way from him are the nine Spanish navy-men who are to be hung in the public square tomorrow morning.
[SECTION]Rising from a disquiet rest, the senior most of the navy-men, a broad-shouldered man whose captivity hasn't yet damaged his lustrous wavy shoulder-length hair or waxed beard. This must be Nicolás de Atrejo who the mysterious Sophie Trémiere spoke of and composed a letter to, now entrusted to Blaise to complete delivery. "I asked to speak with the Governor, and instead they send priests. Mi humillación es completa." His eyes follow you in the dim light of the two oil lamps lighting this second floor.[/SECTION]
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Quickleaf
Legend
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[SECTION]For a moment the six boys go dead quiet, their eyes swiveling from the bartender back and forth amongst one another, until finally a lanky freckled brown-skinned youth with toussled dark red hair pushes to the fore of the group. "You're Katerina del Corazón? I'm Theo, and these are m' boys," he chuffs up his scrawny chest, tapping his nose and tossing his head over his shoulder to indicate the surly youths behind him. "See, Darling Swinerton's favorite ribbon was stolen..."
"By monkeys!" pipes up one of the deckhand lands.
"Aye, by monkeys. Three of the meanest monkeys I've ever seen. And Darling Swinerton promised a kiss to the boy who gets it back. But, we've been trying for hours now and we can't quit quarreling..."
"Oi wasn't quarrlin'!" objects one of the boys with a black eye.
"So, we took to quarreling and the monkeys scampered off down the docks somewhere and now we can't agree on how to get the ribbon back. So I thinks to myself: Well, Theo, there has to be some way to lure out these monkeys so I was asking the barkiss for old fruits and he says aren't any." Theo casts a dubious frown at the bartender. "I'll tell you what, Miss del Corazón, you help me get the ribbon and I'll talk my boys – there are four more of us on the docks – into enlisting with your crew of...well...whatever you are." He peers over Katerina's shoulder at Jacques and the others.[/SECTION]
Thateous
Explorer
Jacques' face contorts in confusion. "Monkey's? A kiss? What strange things boys concern themselves with." he thought. He placed a hand on Kat's shoulder as he turned to head toward the kitchen. He held up his index finger signaling 'one moment please.' Passing through the kitchen he and into the storage area he finds the worst fruit he possibly can, barely edible by human standards and returns to the boys. He nods to Kat as he returns with the fruit. "We should leave lest I have to whisper into children's ears now." he whisperes jokingly into her ear.