3SC's Skull & Shackles IC

[Sen isSaqqara]

Before joining in the loot-gathering, Thysh takes a moment to cool off. She summons cold water over her head, letting it pour down into the bilge at her feet. As the clear water pushes back the murk, she spies something shiny. She summons a light, and reaches down to grab it. After a few moments of poking around, contesting with the little spirits that flow around her hands, she manages to retrieve a vial of holy water. She carefully tucks it away.

Well, it's not gold, but it could be worse.

"So, how's everyone doing?" Her voice is, thankfully, back to speaking in normal common. "We didn't lose anyone, did we?"

[DarkOne-Rob]

As he continues to root around in the muck and water Jarred finds several other items (illuminated by Thysh's minor magic) and begins passing them up the ladder to Catrina and the others. As Kana begins to move towards the ladder he steps out of the way deferentially and says, "Our alliance has been strengthened today - your thunder and my fire are powerful in tandem."

Coming up the ladder last he notes Lodan inspecting wounds and is quiet for a moment, his expression intense and introspective. "I do not think I am much at risk of disease, but if you know something I do not you may inspect the wounds," he says, waiting to be last among the party to receive attention. "That said, several of us are wounded and I don't trust the crew. If any of you can bind wounds together with your power I think it would be wise to do so..."

Once everyone is ready to report their success he settles the axe on his belt and makes eye contact with everyone. "I think either Catrina or I should address Scourge when we report in a moment. Afterwards I plan to negotiate the return of my gear in exchange for this weapon. The rest that we found can be divvied up among all of us. No one should sleep tonight without a weapon and armor, if they want it. Does anyone have an argument with that?"

[Sen isSaqqara]

"Well, I'm not really one for weapons and armor. That said, I can take care of myself, and anyone who tries to shank me will probably die slowly and painfully and in exactly the manner they deserve, so I think I'll be fine. Speaking of painful and debilitating disease, I think one of those rats got a bite in on me." She shows Lodan her leg where she was bitten.

[n0ble]

As the Red-hair talks to her Kana looks at him with a bemused scowl. Guess we're still aligned then. Little bolts flicker in between her fingers, and she just catches them out of the corner of her eye. "Looks that way, don't it?"The druid punctuates the words with a stiff nod at the Red-hair. She stows the knife in her boot again before re-shouldering the bag. She wasn't sure what to make of the woman-Catrina?- that he'd mentioned but figured it was fine for now. More people in between her and others was never a bad thing.

Upon getting topside, Kana submitted to Logan's herbs. She didn't look at the wound, instead looking at the man's features before quickly turning to the dressing when he looks up. Huh. Not bad.

She gave a vague shrug. Don't want to talk to Scourge. Can trade the silver bracelet and weapons in for my sh!t. Today

[Farmerbink]

Catrina eyes Thysh with something resembling disbelief or confusion. She gives her head a quick shake to dispel the interjecting thought, and nods resolutely. "I'll talk to him." She smiles. "I think he's still unused to speaking to people that aren't afraid of him. I find the exchanges exhilarating." Slipping the two unclaimed alchemical twigs into a pocket, she starts upwards.[/COLOR]"

[3SecondCultist]

Covered in bilge water and other, less describable types of filth, all of you climb up the ladder so that those of you with rat wounds can be appropriately treated for any diseases, and Catrina can make the report to Plugg that the job has been completed. Apparently, whatever commotion you caused in the bilges was enough to garner just about everybody on the lower deck's attention... friendly or otherwise. There are three other pirates in the lower decks, and both of them stare openly at you. The first face is Scrimshaw himself, who is busy laying traps for any more of the vermin that appear. He smiles at Catrina, although wrinkles his nose at the stench of you. The second is Crimson Cogward, who eyes your group with a healthy dose of admiration at what he no doubt presumes to be a grand melee. The third of the pirates, however, is already hastily making his way up the stairs to the middle deck. You recognize him as the fat, bald man who was there when Scourge first appeared to torment you those days ago: Fipps Chumlett.

There can be no doubt as to where he's headed. Before any of you can intervene, he's gone. It won't take long for Plugg and Scourge to learn that you've either completed or failed in your task. It seems as though any treatment of disease will cost all of you a lash today, since the first mate's instructions of you reporting back to him were quite clear. Still, Lodan might have time to at least treat one person.

[Sen isSaqqara]

"Treat whoever's most wounded first," says Thysh to Lodan, "You can always fix the rest of us up later." She withdraws her leg and follows Chumlett up the ladder. Perhaps she can make a report to Scourge before the bald man has time to mess things up too badly. At the least, she can try to buy Lodan a few more minutes.

[DarkOne-Rob]

As Fipps begins to hustle away Jarred growls and starts to run after him. A moment later he visibly winces and grabs at his leg where one of his rat-bite wounds can be seen visibly bleeding. "Damn it that hurts! Catrina! You're not injured - go play interference for 'Pudgy' up there and keep the officers off our backs as Tanner here looks at the wounds and makes sure none are infected!"

Turning back to the others he mumbles, "Tonight we will have to see to 'Pudgy' and ensure he doesn't try to kiss up with Scourge at our expense..."

[Sen isSaqqara]

Hearing Jarred's call, Thysh backs off to let Catrina go ahead. She's a better choice: Thysh has short legs, one of which is injured.

[Space Lawyer]

Petaba

Petaba goes abovedecks with Catrina. He didn't necessarily trust her to give an accurate accounting of the events in the bilges, and if she did, then she could porbably use backup. It looked like Scrimshaw would be able to help out if anyone started something below, and Cogward might just be up for a brawl if one broke out, judging by the look he had.

[Starbin]

Scaled barbarian

Emerging from the bilges with the others, the large lizard glared around the deck, almost standing guard as the others emerged. Once everyone was up, it followed the group, glowering at anyone who seemed unfriendly.

Spoiler: OOC

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Looking all bad-arse, covered in shi-ite! Let's go with a generic Intimidate to give weight to the group's emergence!

Intimidate - (1d20+12)[15]

EDIT: Trust me ... if I ever roll over 10 on an intimidate check, you will be awed!

Spoiler: Status

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HPs: 13/13
AC: 12
F +3 R +1 W +1
Perception +6; Sense Motive +0
Effects: Grog! -1 Con

[Farmerbink]

Before Jarred can offer his advice, Catrina is heading topside. In passing, she points a finger at Crimson. "I'll want your help," she begins in between strained breaths of muck and worse, "learning how to use this blade better. Never fought more than pies and skittish squirrels before- I'm almost embarrassed to carry it, now..." Knowing his abilities and interests, she takes to the stairs- two at a time- hopeful that it won't cost too much to get a more knowledgable eye on her movements.

Catrina arrives on the top deck, no more than a minute after having left the bilges- one shoe carried sloppily in her left hand, and the other untied. Looking down and breathing a little heavily, she steps up to the planks a few paces behind Fipps. Huh. It's a wonder I didn't trip going up the stairs.

"Sir!" she all-but yells to interrupt the fat man's 'report.' "Bilges are cleared of offending vermin. I'm not gonna say they're clean, mind you, but nothing down there's gonna bite too hard. Couple of us were bitten pretty badly- almost all on the feet and legs. Might take them a couple more tics to take the stairs back."

Spoiler: If I must

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I'd really like someone else to at least assist, here. I can't imagine any such failure will directly impact Catrina, but I'd rather not get other people whipped on my poor die rolls, for which I'm long overdue:
(1d20+5)[6] diplomacy

Edit: "Aw, man. I hate it when I'm right!"

[n0ble]

Kana made her way above deck with everyone else. Ideally, not having to take any lashes would be preferable to even one. But if it came down to it she could take a lash. She had before, so it's not like it was anything expressly new for her. Five days and no whippings to speak of? Bound to happen at some point. She looks forward to the inevitability with a grimness that is fairly plain to see on her face.

[3SecondCultist]

Plugg's face settles into a scowl at the sight of Catrina, one that is not much improved by the words he hears emerge from her mouth. The first mate gets to setting his teeth when he hears of crew members laying about and not doing their job, sending for a few other members of the swab team to go and collect them. "That isn't your call to make," he growls at the red-haired woman, suddenly pulling her in close. "We'll see if the Stitchman comes to the same conclusion. Either way, know that you and yours have all earned yourselves a lashing today." Shoving Catrina away as quickly as he grabbed her, Plugg takes a few long strides to the stairs up to the foredeck, surveying the work being done. He's clearly not happy at being forced to fetch the surgeon and send him belowdecks, and he shoots Catrina one more stony look before disappearing from sight.

"Can't say that I'm surprised, sir." The man finishes his examination of Jarred, Kana, and Thysh down in the hold with a summary shrug. Habbly Quarne, the ship's surgeon, is a bespectacled fellow with a shorn head and quite a few scars. He's got quite a calm demeanor, save for a somewhat animated spark in his eyes as he inspects the carnage wrought on your flesh by the rats. It's only one possible interpretation of the Stitchman's name. He points to the blue gnome's leg. "This one's got the highest chance of infection, to my mind. I can clean it up, but I'd recommend that this one be given a more lenient task today." The Stitchman looks back to Plugg, who reluctantly nods. Scourge isn't far behind, and the thin man seems even more disappointed at the diagnosis. As soon as Quarne has left, the bosun is quick to ensure that everyone goes where they need to - save for Thysh, who is reassigned to do repair work despite the need for a serious second cleaning of the bilges.

Spoiler: OOC

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Back to work, everyone! Everyone needs to roll for their daily tasks for the fifth day now - the assignments are posted in the OOC thread. We can assume that Treat Disease on all three of Kana, Thysh, and Jarred were successful, although they haven't been properly healed yet (whether or not you take care of those yourselves is up to you)l. It'll be back to business as usual for a few in-game days, so as soon as everyone picks their ship actions and do their tasks, I will have an end of day post for Day 5. All of you will be earning one lash for dallying about without permission.

[DarkOne-Rob]

Jarred's expression leaves little to the imagination as the party receives their assignments and additional lashes are ordered. Grumbling angrily throughout the day, he makes it a point to stop by the ship store and trade the handaxe for his old gear and several (4) flasks of alchemist's fire. With an indifferent thanks to Grok he returns to work, before the Bloody Hour.

After his first whipping Jarred falls, hard, and doesn't move or even groan for several long moments. When his breath comes back it is shallow and uneven, but doesn't stop...

Spoiler: Mechanics for Day 5

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Hauling Rope and Knot Work, during which Jarred will Shop

Strength (1d20+2)[16] vs DC 10 or fail task (pass)
Constitution (1d20)[10] vs DC 10 or become fatigued (pass)

As described in hangouts, Jarred will sell the handaxe for 1/2 value (153 GP store credit), buy back his starting gear (70 GP worth), and have 83 GP credit. Once I know what else I can buy, I will probably detail what else he picks up.

Bloody Hour - Jarred may "earn" as many as two additional lashings today but begins at 2 HPs, so...

Whip 7: 6

...he goes unconscious and dying after the first whipping at -2 HPs. I am going to assume someone will heal him immediately so that he stabilizes and I get to continue playing. Unfortunately that probably means I will end up drinking the grog tonight...

Spoiler: Saved for later

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Whip (1d20+7)[22] attack, (1d20+7)[16] (20/x2), (1d3+3)[4] nonlethal damage, +(1d3+3)[4] critical strike damage
Whip (1d20+7)[20] attack, (1d20+7)[16] (20/x2), (1d3+3)[4] nonlethal damage, +(1d3+3)[6] critical strike damage (unearned - Jarred worked well enough today)

To stabilize without healing magic - Constitution (1d20)[17] vs. DC 10 (pass)

Spoiler: Stabilization Checks that were unneeded

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Constitution (1d20)[7] vs. DC 10 (if needed)
Constitution (1d20)[12] vs. DC 10 (if needed)
Constitution (1d20)[9] vs. DC 10 (if needed)
Constitution (1d20)[12] vs. DC 10 (if needed)
Constitution (1d20)[17] vs. DC 10 (if needed)
Constitution (1d20)[12] vs. DC 10 (if needed)
Constitution (1d20)[9] vs. DC 10 (if needed)
Constitution (1d20)[19] vs. DC 10 (if needed)
Constitution (1d20)[20] vs. DC 10 (if needed)

Spoiler: Grog

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Drink it tonight...if conscious (which Jarred isn't yet)

Constitution (1d20+2)[22] vs DC 5 or minor addiction (pass, though I hope it doesn't happen)
(1d3)[2] Constitution Damage
+(1d4)[1] Charisma
Fatigued for (1d8)[5] Hours

After a day like this, Jarred will Sleep after dinner.

[Farmerbink]

Catrina starts when Plugg pulls her in close, her expression one of shock and disgust. When he shoves her away, indignation rises. Who's takin' a f***ing break?! Next time that son of a bitch tries to lay hands on me... as Plugg disappears- seeking the stitchman, no doubt- her left hand subconsciously drifts to the bandolier she wears underneath her shift. She spits on the deck, and rises to her feet to get on with the days task. Having been sent to round up less aggressive rats, she heads back belowdecks to get to work.

Back in "Crimson's" company, Catrina's in the foulest mood anyone on board has yet seen. She doesn't make much effort to hid it, instead talking with her unlikely partner animatedly. "You ever seen him get in a fight? No, a real fight?! I've got more'n half a mind ta..." Despite her anger, she's not quite dumb enough to come right out and say what she's thinking.

She returns dutifully to the deck at the chiming of the ship's bell. Not trusting herself to keep her emotions in check, she stands silently, scowling angrily at the deck boards just in front of her toes as the first few rounds of punishment are administered.

[Space Lawyer]

Petaba

Petaba's face contorts into a grimace when he hear's Catrina's explanation. Couldn't say it in a more conciliatory manner, could you? He isn't surprised when Plugg promises a lashing for them all. This redhead seemed only marginally less likely to get them all killed than the other one. Must be a family trait, if Tanner was right about that relationship.

When he is assigned to run around the ship delivering messages and supplies, he isn't particularly surprised. The bosun probably wanted him run ragged, and to fail at this task, giving an excuse for another lashing. Petaba isn't going to give the man an excuse though. He steps lively to the job, running to and fro with a measured pace.

He even has time to stop now and then to chat with Shikivah. Well, it wasn't so much chatting as Petaba occasionally making a comment or witty observation with a grunt or terse word in reply from the big woman. Over the day though, he could see her attitude begin to change. Whenever she heard the half-orc coming up behind her, she would stop what she was doing and look expectantly at him, seeming to almost welcome his presence.

The day is through, and though he was worked up a hard sweat, Petaba feels little worse than he did at the start. That was about to change though - Bloody Hour was upon them.

[Farmerbink]

When the time comes, Catrina's scowl shifts into a grimace. It doesn't take a genius to foresee Scourge's reaction to finding her chain shirt after the first whip cut her shift into pieces. Likewise, it's not going to help anyone for Catrina to let the lining get destroyed. She takes a deep breath, as the gathered eyes turn to her, and begins walking forward. She reaches over her shoulders and removes shift, chain shirt, and lining all in one quick motion, leaving her back bared and her chest covered- conveniently giving her plenty of fabric to bite as she places the top of her head on the mast.

Without anything resembling prior experience, the lash falls. It cuts through the skin of her back like it's not even there- drawing thick red blood from the long, shallow gash. The pain is worse than she expected, despite watching several people whipped unconscious over the last 5 days. Tears well up in the corners of her eyes, but her anger keeps them firmly in place. For several minutes, she walks around with her back bared, waiting- at least- for the blood to stop running before properly covering up once more. Modesty be damned- I'm not gonna let this stuff get ruined... like my back...

The sting of pain takes longer to pass than she would have thought, too; leaning against any of the posts or rails is flat out of the question. She drinks the rum, and mopes about sullenly as dinner begins.

Hunting out a new face, Catrina finds herself talking with an older Half-Elf. Her striped haircut is odd-looking, and Catrina's recent experience is somewhat distracting. Unable to gauge the situation well enough to feel confident, Catrina decide's she's had enough for one day and heads to her cot. She doesn't sleep well- as the cots are difficult to lay upon on your stomach, and her back hurts too much to ignore. The next day comes earlier than she'd like, that's for sure.

[n0ble]

Daytime

Kana took to her assigned task with a purposeful sense of energy. She didn't want to get lashed even more after all. Instead she got mad and put all the anger of the day's events into harpooning another flotilla of leatherbacks. Once that was done she hauled them into the kitchen and set to hacking the meat from their bones with a cleaver. During a lull in the preparation, she skittered off to trade the silver band, shortsword and axe for her armour and quarterstaff. It felt good to get them back again, and went some ways towards calming her mind after the days events. Beats throwing thunder outta my @ss at least.

Spoiler: OOC

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Daytime Ship Action: going to the shop and trading in the stuff stolen from the kitchen for gear.

Nighttime
When it came time for her lashing Kana approached the pole with a practiced stoicism. As Scourge bears her back, several jagged scars are readily apparent, the result of previous whippings under a different man. She took in a deep breath, exhaling as the whip cracks down onto her back. She grits her teeth before re-applying her armour over it. Ugh. Almost forgotten the sting.

Rather than talk she instead went straight to drinking her grog. Maybe it was the fact that she got her stuff back or discovering something new about herself, but it tasted slightly less like piss to her. She quickly banished the thought. Still piss. Just growing to like its taste. It was enough to put her in a sour mood again as she approached the Red-hair's form.

He'd down hard during his whipping. It looked bad but she could help, as per their agreement. Too much sway to let it go to waste. She walked over to his body and dragged it below deck, in imitation of what she did the previous night. Once alone, shed placed a hand on his wounds, watching them recede as something flows from her hand to him. One more weird thing in whats been a very f!cked up day. Kana didn't bother waiting for a reply from him, she simply left for the nearest unoccupied hammock and passed out in it.

Spoiler: OOC

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Cure light wounds on Jarred: (1d8+1)[8]
Night Action: Sleep

[DarkOne-Rob]

As he wakes with a start, Jarred sees Kana drift off to another hammock. "Ah, my ally. It is good to know that the rule of three still applies, even on this wreck," he mutters as he pulls himself up carefully. "Ow! My head again...let's see if I can find something to eat. Maybe that will help..."

Saying nothing more he helps himself to a bowl of turtle stew in the kitchen and bumps into Catrina on his way back to bed. Seeing her stance and expression he lets her pass without comment, though he notes the ginger way she walks and realizes that she hadn't been whipped until today. The thought flashes murderously across his face before he follows his sister and heads to sleep himself, choosing a spot near her just in case.

[Starbin]

Scaled barbarian

The lizard left the group to join the other riggers. Today, it was not nearly as agile as it had been previously. After more than a little frustration, the lizard hissed loudly. A couple of the other riggers snickered; ones with no love for the newcomers. Fortunately one of the riggers, Shortstone, took pity on the huge beast and helped it tie the ropes satisfactorily. The lizard peered at the nice one for a moment, then nodded its head ... perhaps a thanks? Then it went back to its work.

---

That night, the lizard followed the others for a lashing, confused as to why it was being beaten. Snarling, it took the blow without flinching and went to gather food and grog. Eyeing the other crew, it left the games for tonight and approached one of the riggers, the female with no shoes, and sat down. With a strange stream of hisses and barks, it touched its chest, then pointed a clawed hand at the woman. Head cocked to the size, the intimidating beast watched with unblinking eyes...

Spoiler: OOC

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Time to try and influence Barefoot Toppin ... Int - (1d20+12)[30]

Spoiler: Status

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HPs: 8/13
AC: 12
F +3 R +1 W +1
Perception +6; Sense Motive +0
Effects: Grog! -2 Con

[WalkingTheShade]

The reluctant pirate

Once back on the main deck, Lodan shrugs when he learns from Catrina he's due yet one other lash. "I don't think anyone keeping a tally of them anymore. I'll just be whipped every evening on this ship 'till I die or Scourge's whip breaks on my back."

Yet, Lodan is happy to learn he's paired with Tilly on todays taks. Moreover, repairs are way easier than swabbing or running, cleaner than the bilges and generally more into his set of skills. Yet, who cares about working. Everyone knows how Lodan's day's going to end. Right? Lodans spends most of his day helping Tilly with her share of the work. "You know, everyone calls me Tanner, but my first name is Lodan. Grew up in Port Peril, where do you come from?" As the day passes, Lodan shows Tilly a few carpenter tricks to make her work easier. She seems agreeable enough. Soon, they're telling each other stories of their many drunken misadventures. They even start singing a few drinking songs then breaking into laughter right in the middle of them. Lodan finds they both have much in common, unlike the Bansion b!tch. He hopes he'll get to know her more intensely before he's finally whipped to death.

Spoiler: Rolls

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Profession (sailor) on repairs, (1d20+3)[6] vs. DC 10.
Influence Tilly Bracket: (1d20+7)[14].

---

When the Bloody Hour comes, Lodan waits in line, removing his leather vest. He looks at his feet, yet cringes at the sound of the whip on each one of the press gang. He turns to Petaba: "Fane? Assuming you're still standing, I wouldn't be opposed to a dose of your magic, again." Lodan then nods towards a woman on deck. "If you hurt too much to drag me to bed, I'm positive Bracket would help." Lodan, all bravado, then waves and smiles to Tilly, trying to look way stronger more nonchalant than he is. Say what you will, but the prospect of sharing a new woman's, err, friendship makes a fronting self-confident coward out any self-confessed coward.

When Catrina comes past them, back bloody, dragging her mail shirt, Lodan makes eye contact. Her stare is somewhat vacant. It's probably her first time. Lodan whispers to her: "I know it hurts. Thing is, you mostly get used to it after some time. Well maybe not used to the pain, but at least to the idea of the pain."

[Sen isSaqqara]

Thysh spends the day working carefully, taking the time to think as her subconscious busies itself in the task at hand. She manages to finish the jobs assigned to her, haphazardly but effectively nailing boards over weak spots in the hull and replacing a few rotted planks in the deck's rail. Come the day's end, she is lost deep in thought, but the beginnings of a new plan have begun to stir in her mind.

[3SecondCultist]

Your punishment tonight was not all that severe - one lash or so leaving most of you standing - but the message it has sent among the crew did not go unnoticed. Several among your compatriots among the Wormwood's rank and file look away, or seem frightened that the same will happen to them should they speak out to the first mate, who looks on with a slightly less angry face than the one he usually wears. "Best you stick together," murmurs Scrimshaw to anyone who will listen, and Cogward manages to keep a lookout for any of Scourge's contingent as Catrina heads belowdecks and both Lodan and Petaba are administered their lash. Beyond your most staunch allies, it's hard to be sure that those whose goodwill you've earned will stay in your camp for long.

On the other hand, there are friends you've all made - or bullied into service - today that seem to stick by your side. Tilly Bracket, apparently charmed by Lodan's many tales, moves to help carry him after the day's Bloody Hour has come to an end, and Barefoot Toppin seems even more scared of Hiss than she does of the overseers, as she hangs around the dark-scaled lizard for most of the evening after he's 'spoken' his piece. When all is said and done, it is comforting to know that most of you have made yourselves a cache of allies, no matter how apparently small or insignificant. In a short space of time, several of you are already seen as true sailors, and honest friends. To what end you will put these relationships is up to you.

---

The morning brings a rolling grey fog, almost soup-like in its consistency, melting from the clouds above and rising from the waves below to engulf the Wormwood in a sort of transient state of being. For the sixth time since you've been aboard the ship, you are roused from your sleep and follow the throng of sailors up through the various holds to get your assignments for the day. For the sixth time, you pass the manacled man attached to the mast in the middle hold. He sleeps fitfully, waking only when kicked or otherwise abused by the crew members who pass him by. And he pays you no mind, curling back up in his ragged blanket of tar and feathers, shouting profanities and trying to push off anyone who gets too close. Most everyone gives him a wide berth after that.

By the time you reach the overcast sky that is the backdrop to your misfortune, Scourge is in the midst of assigning tasks for the rest of the crew. "All ye curs," he points to Giffer Tibbs and Crimson Cogward, as well as Jack Scrimshaw and Aretta Bansion, "yer down below today. The bilges need cleanin' up after yesterday, and the rats ought to be killed sooner rather than later." With a rough gesture of the hand, the bosun includes Catrina, Lodan, Jarred, and Thysh in that group, assigning two to join Scrimshaw and Bansion in the bilges, and the other pair to help with rat duty. Petaba is last among the swab contingent to be assigned, and Scourge absentmindedly throws him a holystone before telling him to get to work and that 'he knows what to do'. Meanwhile, Hiss is given the job of fixing some slack lines up in the rigging... and Kana can hear Kroop's drunken fumbling from the next cabin over.

All in all, it's just another lively day aboard the Wormwood.

Spoiler: OOC

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I've decided to make this a little bit harder on you guys, since you've made such swift progress with the crew. First of all, anyone with a 'Hostile' attitude can no longer be influenced, save for at night or during a dead of night action. With Scourge and Plugg about during the day, they won't be swayed from the resident tyrant and his cur. Furthermore, today's whipping of the group has resulted in a -2 to influence all NPCs for the next 24 hours (up to and including the next night action, but not the extra ship action you can take by staying up).

[DarkOne-Rob]

Because he feels largely healthy and ready for the day, Jarred wakes in a bright mood. His ferocious grin is flashed at crew members, friendly and unfriendly alike, and he all but leaps at his assignment. "Alright! Let's go Lodan, Jack. Who else is helping?" he says cheerfully before Aretta Bansion is pointed out. When he sees her his grin gets even wider, and the leer she receives is positively dripping with hostile intent. "Oh, I didn't know that we were afforded a whore to keep us entertained while we work! How very excellent!"

Without waiting for a response he heads down the hatch towards the now familiar bilges, dropping down the ladder into the muck with strange enthusiasm. Once there he begins working steadily, though his rude quips and raucous laughter can be heard throughout the day. Anyone listening in discovers that the talk and jokes consistently revolve around the fourth crew member assigned the dirty work. Listeners also note that he is crude, ugly, and utterly abusive as he harasses and harangues the woman mercilessly. "You see that, your ladyship? That is rat blood all over the wall! Maybe yours will join it someday soon - I think some of us would like that..."

Spoiler: Day Time Mechanics

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Man the Bilges:
Strength (1d20+8)[27] vs DC 12 or fail
Constitution (1d20+2)[14] vs DC 10 or fatigued

Work Diligently: +4 bonus applied to the Strength check.

In spite of the diatribe, Jarred never actually speaks to Bansion, nor does he attempt to influence her in a manner that distracts from the work. He would rather only be whipped once today (as that is all he "owes") than try to actively influence her and distract himself from the work. The description above is meant to be the sort of thing that happens when a worker makes a (very) hostile environment for another. I have no interest in either wasting an action trying to influence her or risking failure when I am still debating attempting to murder one of the crew members. Heck, she might earn a spot on Jarred's list...

[WalkingTheShade]

Bilge rat

"Oh, I didn't know that we were afforded a whore to keep us entertained while we work! How very excellent!"

"A whore? I had the priviledge to meet nice, honest, loving and intelligent whores in my lifetime. Here, I believe you're mistaken on the nature of the help, Red," answers Lodan, deadpan, as if he'd not gotten the insult. He stays silent but once they get down in the bilges, he gets down last. He makes a show of sniffing the air, adding, "smells like giant rats are not the only vermin we'll risk meeting down here today."

Work goes on with Lodan enabling and helping Jarred's aggressive mocking of Bansion, making more indirect jibes at her expanse. Lodan seems emboldened both by Jarred's insults and the extra efforts he puts into today's work. Usually lazy, Lodan feels he can't slack if Jarred's putting his heart into it.

Spoiler: Rolls

Show

Lodan is not fatigued anymore since he only slept during yesterday night.
Work diligently. Strength, (1d20+4)[24]. Constitution, (1d20)[19] vs Fatigue DC 10.

[Starbin]

Scaled barbarian

The beast scaled the ropes quickly, ignoring the others as it went about fixing the rigging. It still seemed to operate on quick claws vice any true knowledge. The other riggers working nearby were not friendly, but the black scaled creature didn't seem to care ... or invite discussion.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Something to bide the time ...

Spoiler: Status

Show

HPs: 8/13
AC: 12
F +3 R +1 W +1
Perception +6; Sense Motive +0
Effects: Grog! -1 Con

[Space Lawyer]

Petaba

The half-orc takes the holystone and gets to work. In the sullen, oppressive heat, it is grueling labor. Still, there is a pleasant rhythm to the work - back and forth, back and forth. It takes most of the day, but Petaba has the deck looking smooth and clean.

Spoiler: Rolls

Show

Petaba is working diligently today
Strength:(1d20+5)[9] vs. DC 10

When he stands up to observes his work though, Petaba can feel a weariness overtaking him. It seemed that the combination of the grog, the heat, and the sheer brutality of the life on the ship was getting to him. He puts the holystone back where it goes, and shuffles away to find somewhere to slump until dinner time.

[n0ble]

Kana's scowl turned into a look of plain fury as she saw that Kroop was insensibly drunk again. That meant it fell to her to prepare the entire meal. She poured her anger into each swing of the cleaver. F!cking Kroop. F!cking Wormwood. F!ck!!! It enough to make her body bristle with the same energy from yesterday. It's clear from the beginning that she's already behind, and as the hours pass it becomes obvious that she's not going to get everything done in time. At the end of the day, it's clear that she hasn't done nearly enough to make a cohesive meal for the crew.

Amidst the anger and half clean pots, she wonders if there's a way that she could pin all of this on the pass out cook. Its not like he'd know of be able to defend himself from accusations anyways.

[3SecondCultist]

The Owlbear

The hours encroach as they have, blending into each other with reckless abandon. All that exists is the work, and the mists are no help at all. Above decks, Hiss and the riggers make do with what little they can see, plying lines and fixing the main boom of the Wormwood, as a jagged splinter has developed along its length in the days since you left Port Peril. The crew is largely successful, and only one of their number - Ratline Rattsberger - is subjected to the lash on the main deck. The swabs don't fare as well, with Tilly Brackett, Shikivah, and Aretta Bansion - the latter of whom was thoroughly distracted and unnerved by working the majority of the day surrounded by potential enemies - also up for a bout of punishment. Although this is not the first time you've seen the more experienced crew members at the end of Scourge's tongue, it is certainly the most you've seen the bosun dole out to anyone who was not recently impressed into service.

Next up are Kana and Lodan. The cook's mate, unfortunately, has prepared something of a lousy supper on account of Fishguts Kroop being more 'under the weather' than usual, and a clamor for her suffering was swift this evening when the gruel was not up to standards. Fortunately for Kana, Scourge misses on the first swing, but he comes around soon enough, and the druid collapses on the deck after the second lash connects with her back. Lodan does not fare any better, and soon the pair of them are lying side by side, several jeering faces looking down at them. Maheem, the large man. Tam Tate, the dark-skinned dwarf. And Scourge himself, who coils his whip back into his belt with a certain reluctance, but not before spitting on Lodan's unconscious body and stepping away with a harsh laugh. With that final indignity, the sixth Bloody Hour is over, and the lot of you begin to prepare for the rum ration to be dragged out for the evening's activities.

"Hold, there!"

What happens instead is more than a little surprising. From the doors that lead down to the middle hold, Plugg appears, having been absent during the ritualized torture session that is the Bloody Hour. Beside him are two more figures, both of them recognizable: the first is the blond man who stood at the helm a few nights ago, and the second is the large man with meaty fists who has been bound belowdecks since you first started your journey. Standing at his full height, the prisoner looms over most, and yet cuts quite the sad figure. He wears the scars of many close quarter fights, and his shaved head has quite a few nicks and dents in it. He wears hideously mismatching interlocking bits of hardened hide, although that does little to cover the shaved skin beneath; a sign of the tarring and feathering the crew gave him not too long ago. None of this was as evident in the mornings and evenings when you passed him on your way down to the hammocks as it is at this very moment. Of course, he also wears chains around his arms and throat.

"Tonight is a special occasion, because one of you will be walking away a rich man! For those of you who have never had the pleasure, this be Owlbear Hartshorn!" He holds the shackled man's scarred arms up high in the air, revealing a glistening, puckered mark that runs all along the Owlbear's side and down his chest beneath his armor. The fighter's eyes are filled with a sad darkness, but he cries out a few guttural sounds that make sense in no tongue whatsoever. Whatever the display, Plugg doesn't seem to notice it. "What do you say? Anyone up for a bit of sport? Whoever beats the Owlbear in a bare-knuckle fight - no magic, no weapons or tricks - walks away with a cash prize!" The first mate gestures to a fat purse at his belt, which jingles with coin. He opens it briefly to let the gold within catch the torchlight, and to reassure everyone that the offer is indeed a genuine one. Several of the sailors immediately begin to jostle each other over who will get to fight the simpleton first, but Plugg points through them to the five of you who are still conscious. "Tell you what; I'll give the greenhorns the first go at him. Well? Is there any among you strong enough to brave this fight, or shall I give the purse away to somebody else?"