Voyages of the Ghostlight - IC

[-Sentinel-]

OOC thread


In the mighty city-state of Brisevent, civil unrest is turning into civil war. Spurred by charismatic leaders, thousands of commoners have risen in revolt against King Léon IV and his autocratic rule. The streets are a maze of barricades, the gutters run red with blood, and the King’s own soldiers have begun to defect to the side of the insurrectionists. Every day, the balance tips a little more towards the end of Brisevent's monarchy and the founding of a republic. The city’s aristocrats, fearful for their future, are hurriedly loading their possessions on their ships and fleeing the impending revolution before their heads start rolling.

Like sharks drawn to blood, pirates are prowling the waters around Brisevent, hoping to snag a treasure-laden prize that could set them for life…

---

Mériault

The small port town of Mériault was bustling with an activity not seen in generations. In recent weeks, its proximity to Brisevent, along with its almost nonexistent defenses, had turned it into an impromptu base of operations for pirates. Crews flying under the black flag dropped anchor to resupply, recruit new members, and—if their hunt was successful—spend their ill-gotten gains on booze and other pleasures. It was a mixed blessing for the town: gold and silver flowed like water, but so did blood. Hardly a night went by without multiple street fights between rival pirate crews. Mériault's governor was appointed by the King of Brisevent, and thus theoretically under obligation to crack down on piratical activities, but he had wisely decided to bar himself in his fortress and instruct the town's badly outnumbered militia to avoid trouble with their rowdy guests. It was not as if Léon IV would reign long enough to punish the governor for cowardice; at this point of the revolution, the fall of the monarchy seemed all but assured.

The Ghostlight sailed into port around dusk, and by sheer luck found a still-empty berth whose previous occupant had just gone on the hunt. She was a sleek 32-gun frigate, with half of her gunports cleverly camouflaged to deceive her opponents until it was too late. A latecomer to the party, the ship was badly in need of new crewmen, having lost several in a naval engagement against other pirates the previous week. Luckily, hiring crew in Mériault these days was as easy as sitting at a table at a tavern, loudly announcing that you were hiring, and signing up anyone who showed up.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Anyone who starts in Mériault is free to decide whether they are already crewmen of the Ghostlight, or new hires.

---

Brisevent

The city was lost to the revolutionaries. That much had been obvious for days, and never more than tonight. King Léon IV had tried to hold onto power for as long as he could, but by now, the only parts of the city that his troops still controlled were his own palace, the nobles' quarters, and the port. And the latter could fall at any moment now, if word in the city was to be believed. If anyone wanted to leave Brisevent while the going was good, now was the last call.

Macra was assigned to House Valtier as a chambermaid. Originally, she had been put in this particular family to spy on them for the King's benefit. The Valtiers were immensely rich and had powerful allies in many other city-states, making them a credible threat to Léon IV. The revolution changed everything: noble families that had been scheming against one another for generations now stood together in a fight for the very future of the aristocracy as a system. New orders had come from King Leon IV—help the Valtiers get out of Brisevent unscathed, for the family's foreign allies would prove invaluable in retaking Brisevent from the revolutionaries.

Of course, there was only so much Macra could do without blowing her cover, so for now, she just went with the flow. The Valtiers' servants and guards (at least, those who had not defected to the side of the revolutionaries yet) were hurriedly loading the family wealth onto carts: bags of coins, jewelry, silk dresses, old paintings, the contents of Baron Valtier's well-stocked wine cellar, and more. It was said that pirates roved the waters around Brisevent, ready to capture any ship that emerged from the harbor, but the Baron seemed to think he stood a better chance against pirates than revolutionaries. Soon the Valtiers and their followers would begin their dangerous journey through the city streets. The port was only eight blocks away, but with all the barricades and the rioting mobs, it might as well have been eight hundred miles.

The Baron's eldest daughter, Elena Valtier, was an island of calm through the chaos as she gave orders to her servants.

"No, leave the 804 red behind, that's a mediocre vintage. Take this tapestry instead... It's a gift from the Veltmans of Wijrendam, they'll be flattered that we held onto it. Macra, darling, can you find me the rapier with the sapphire pommel? I get the feeling I might actually need it for real tonight."

[MCerberus]

Doc - deck of the Ghostlight


Despite not being near the academy during the revolution, Doc had been receiving some really concerning missives as of late. Something about being marked, revenge, grudges. More than the usual amount of revenge threats actually. Things must have really gotten bad, meaning he'd once again need to make his location unknown. Among the chaos of the last few days the appearance of a deadly frigate on the docks is actually good news for Doc. He had gone along on a previous expedition to, he promised not to say but there were ships that had a very, very necessary ingredient he needed to investigate. That thankfully gave him an easy route back into a position on the ship.

Also he had promised to make an additive that makes stale grog taste like cheerwine.

The dwarf stood out as much as usual even on the ship. Luckily he hadn't been stuck on land for an extended period so could still keep his legs, but the plague mask and robe that covers all exposed skin may trigger some superstitions of the sailors. Doc had mostly kept to himself in the first hours anyway. It would be good to let him mind catch up in the calm before someone needs him to work. The limited facilities of being on a ship would mean needing to use a lot of direct methods, and that may or may not improve crew opinion of him.

[Dr.Gunsforhands]

"Of course, Lady Elena."

Macra fits into the maid role well, being an unassuming curly-haired peasant girl to begin with. She bows to excuse herself and steps away to get the fancy weapon. She already knows where the rapier is kept, of course. When you're a secret bodyguard, it helps to keep a mental inventory of weapons on the premises, forged or improvised, for your own use or that of any potential threat who didn't think to bring their own. Two such weapons are hidden on Macra's person right now!

Spoiler: rolls

Show

Spy roll to know where the rapier with the sapphire pommel is kept and retrieve it: (3d6)[3][6][4](13)

The two "weapons" she keeps on her will be determined by a random roll if and when it matters, for fun.

[JNAProductions]

Sasha-A Tavern In Mériault

Under the guidance of the captain, Sasha is in one of the local taverns, seeing who might make for a suitable addition. She's chosen her form carefully for this outing-especially curvaceous and noticeable. While the curves aren't too much new to her, the outfit that was paired with it today feels... A bit revealing. Still, the idea behind it is sound. If they're too busy staring at her chest to think properly, they're not cut out for the Ghostlight. You need to have a level head.

She takes a deep breath (careful to not spill out of her top-Gods above, she thinks, this outfit is impractical) and announces to those assembled "Who here needs a new vessel to call home?"

[-Sentinel-]

Spoiler: OOC

Show

I'll move us forward and hope Enceladus joins us soon. If they're not there in a week, I'll have to take control of their character, because this story needs a ship captain.

---

Doc - Ghostlight

If Doc Stoneblood was hoping for a chance to relax and have a drink now that most of the crew were out on shore leave, he was sorely disappointed. Less than half an hour after the Ghostlight dropped anchor, Keiri, one of the gunners, had already managed to get into a knife fight—again. She stumbled up the gangplank, clutching a stab wound close to her kidney, while supported by another crewman. Said crewman looked apologetic for disturbing Doc so soon.

"Ah, sorry, Doc, Keiri ran into some trouble," he said evasively.

"You should see the other guy," Keiri managed with a weak smile. Then she winced from the pain.

The size and extent of the blood stains on Keiri's clothes lend credence to her statement—most of that blood was clearly not hers.

---

Sasha - The Lighthouse Inn, Mériault

Many would-be pirates were already lining up at Captain Montgomery's table to get signed up, though most of them seemed too old, or too young, or drunk, or were missing a limb or an eye—the Ghostlight had come late, and all the most likely candidates in Mériault had been snatched up by other crews already. Still, the captain could not afford to be too picky.

Among the queuing men and women, Sasha spotted a shifty-looking young fellow who wore a wide-brimmed hat and had his collar popped up to hide most of his face. He fidgeted a lot and seemed very eager to get signed up quickly, not even waiting for the captain to finish explaining the terms of employment before putting his signature ("Markias") at the bottom of the contract. That latter part was interesting, too, as most of the other candidates were illiterate and signed only with an "X". Almost as soon as he was signed up, Markias tried to make for the exit, though the crowded room made it hard for him to move quickly.

---

Macra - Brisevent

Spoiler

Show

No roll was necessary. Knowing where to find Elena's stuff is just expected of Macra as a chambermaid.

"Thank you, dear," said Lady Elena, strapping the rapier's ornate scabbard to her belt. "Time to go now. Stay close to me."

The party of nobles, servants and bodyguards, with their carts and wagons, gathered in the courtyard of the Valtier mansion. Then began the slow trek towards the port, through streets strewn with corpses and the remnants of destroyed barricades. The air smelled of smoke—it seemed that whenever there was a riot, someone had to burn something.

Baron Valtier, head of the house, was seething. "Scum, all of them. Look what they're doing to our great city. And they think they can govern themselves! Pfah! What would they even do without a king to lead them? Oh, so many people will hang when we return and take back what's ours... or whatever's left of it..."

"For now, let's focus on surviving, shall we, Father?" said Elena with a note of irritation.

Her teeth were clenched and her gaze was hard. She, too, seemed quietly outraged at what had become of Brisevent, but she was keeping her head in the game. Perhaps she understood, better than her father did, that House Valtier's return to its rightful seat of power was a matter of if, not when.

And that was assuming they even made it to their ship. The street ahead of them was blocked by a barricade, manned by a score of armed revolutionaries.

"Any way around that, commander?" asked Baron Valtier, for the first time sounding genuinely nervous.

"I'll dispatch some scouts, sir," said Galraud, commander of House Valtier's bodyguards. He barked orders to some of his most quick-footed men, who went off in separate directions.

[JNAProductions]

The Lighthouse Inn, Mériault

Many would-be pirates were already lining up at Captain Montgomery's table to get signed up, though most of them seemed too old, or too young, or drunk, or were missing a limb or an eye—the Ghostlight had come late, and all the most likely candidates in Mériault had been snatched up by other crews already. Still, the captain could not afford to be too picky.

Among the queuing men and women, Sasha spotted a shifty-looking young fellow who wore a wide-brimmed hat and had his collar popped up to hide most of his face. He fidgeted a lot and seemed very eager to get signed up quickly, not even waiting for the captain to finish explaining the terms of employment before putting his signature ("Markias") at the bottom of the contract. That latter part was interesting, too, as most of the other candidates were illiterate and signed only with an "X". Almost as soon as he was signed up, Markias tried to make for the exit, though the crowded room made it hard for him to move quickly.

"What's the rush, friend?" she asks of the literate man in the hat. "Got somewhere you need to be? Or rather, somewhere you need to not be?"

[MCerberus]

Doc - Deck of the Ghostlight

Doc takes a quick look at the aftermath of the fight. "Well'n next time could you keep the blood separate. More useful that way." That may read as a joke.
It is not.

Just a regular old stab wound would be pretty routine, and hopefully nobody's already stolen all the supplies. "You got yourself into one of those situations where you're going to have to choose, lass. At port there's still good alcohol to put on your wrap and keep the vapors away, but then you're not going to be able to drink it."

The dwarven catch-22. Doc's got another option though, depending on how daring this stab victim is. He holds up one of his vials, a green one that doesn't look too sickly. "Thistle essence. Should numb the wound if ya want to help me by trying it out." Depending on her reaction, he'll either bandage her up with old-fashioned pirate antiseptic or use his creation.

Spoiler

Show

Mad Alchemist - (4d6)[6][5][3][3](17)

If she doesn't want to be a test subject, switch to plague doctor and disregard last die

[Dr.Gunsforhands]

Macra uncomfortably avoids eye contact as the baron vents. Of course he's talking about people who are out to kill him, but it would be too easy to write it all off as fighting words. His disdain for his own tenants has been more or less constant for as long as Macra's been observing him.

She watches the barricade from afar. The street is secured as rebel territory. She's running out of time.

"Focus on surviving," Macra thinks aloud, echoing Elena's words back to her as she composes an idea. She looks at the barricade again. How do they decide who to let through and what to confiscate? And perhaps most importantly: what will they take as a bribe?

"Benny, wait! Bring the wine back! Get as many bottles as you can!" She calls after her fellow servants, suddenly animated with intense purpose. "Load them all onto this one cart."

The suddenly-very-inspired chambermaid returns to the cart full of art objects. "Lady Elena, these paintings can be taken out of their frames, right? We can wrap them around your scabbard and hide them in plain sight. And the tapestry..." Macra gingerly picks it up of the top of the pile to look it over, then unfolds it and holds it out to her mistress. "If you wear it over your head, it'll look like a dirty scarf at first glance, right? Long enough to disguise yourself in the smoke? It might be helpful for breathing too, if we go that way."

At this point she fully expects one or the other of the Valtiers to say, 'what is the meaning of this?' or something to that effect. "It's as Lady Elena says! You need to get through this alive!" Her words are punctuated with a *zzrip* as she draws a kitchen knife from her apron and starts freeing canvases for smuggling. "If the scouts come back with a way around, it will be on foot, so you'll only be able to bring what we can carry. If we don't have a path around, then we'll need a path through." She indicates the now-loaded Wine Cart. "That's our path through!"

Spoiler: The Plan

Show

Step 1: Convince the baron and baroness to disguise themselves. In addition to the tapestry trick, the elder Valtier will need to take off his jacket at least.

Step 2: Bring enough jewelry and paintings to bribe our way to passage later.

Step 3: Bring the wine cart out to the barricade and cheerfully distribute wine bottles to the revolutionary guards in between cries of, "Viva la revolución!" They'll assume it's loot from a raided cellar.

Step 4: Hand off the last bottles to guards on the far side of the barricade.

Step 5: Wave and continue on our way to the docks.

[-Sentinel-]

Doc - Ghostlight, Mériault

Keiri looked skeptically at the green vial and shook her head. "No offense, doc, but I'll go with the tried-and-true methods. Been stabbed before."

"And it's always over a girl, it seems," chuckled Tomas, the other crewman, earning himself a scowl from Keiri.

"This time it wasn't just about the girl," said Keiri defensively, lying down on the operating table. "It was about respect. I had dibs on her!"

"Yeah, and the other guy had more gold. To a workin' girl, that's worth a lot more than 'dibs'."

"Ugh. He must've hit one of 'em Brisevent treasure ships," Keiri grumbled sourly. "Bastard was loaded. Wish I'd thought to grab his fat purse after he went down..."

Doc disinfected the wound and began to stitch it shut. Luckily, no major organs appeared to have been damaged. Keiri would likely make a full recovery if she avoided any strenuous activities for the foreseeable future. More concerning was the fact that she had apparently caused an incident with the crew of another ship.

---

Montgomery and Sasha - The Lighthouse inn, Mériault

"What's the rush, friend?" she asks of the literate man in the hat. "Got somewhere you need to be? Or rather, somewhere you need to not be?"

"What?" said Markias nervously. "No, it's... quite fine. I've always dreamed of sailing the ocean. And under the famous Captain Montgomery, too! Your ship is the Ghostlight, yes? I can find her myself. In fact I'll go sleep on board, so I don't miss departure tomorrow."

He tried to extricate himself from Sasha, only to bump into a pair of heavyset men who had just entered the inn. One of them, a shaven-headed brute with several scars and most of an ear missing, casually removed Markias' hat to reveal a mop of blond hair.

"Oh, look at that," snickered the big man. "Trying to skip town, eh, Markias? Think the Widow's gonna give up on your debt just 'cause you're pallin' around with pirates?"

Markias shrank back. "I'll pay, I promise! The Widow will get all her money and then some. I just need this one job, and I'll come back rich."

The thug's mocking smile vanished. "Spare me. The Widow's tired of your excuses. And sometimes she gotta make an example of someone."

---

Macra - Brisevent

The other servants just stared at Macra in bafflement; she had been hired only last month, and many of them outranked her. None would follow her instructions without the Baron's approval, and the Baron was having none of it.

"What do you think you're doing, girl?" demanded Baron Valtier moodily. "This is my ancestral wealth. I could have your hand cut off just for touching it without permission!"

"Father, please," said Lady Elena placatingly. She turned to Macra and said quickly, in a low voice: "Listen. I know we all want to survive, but look at how much we're carrying. This is the wealth of over twenty generations. Even if we take as much as we can carry without the carts, we'd have to leave most of it behind. But perhaps we can purchase our way through..."

Spoiler

Show

Sorry for nixing your plan. It's not necessarily a bad plan, but I just don't see a 'chambermaid' convincing a noble house to abandon most of their wealth.

The scouts returned a few minutes later. According to their reports, some of the back alleys were still unbarricaded, but they were far too narrow for the carts. Baron Valtier declared it unacceptable.

"We go through the barricade," he decided. "Guards at the front. Move!"

The convoy crawled towards the barricade. The rebels raised their muskets and crossbows at their approach. They seemed a ragtag bunch—city laborers, peasants from the countryside, defecting soldiers, and more.

"Halt! By order of the Provisional Revolutionary Committee, no one goes to the port!" barked the leader of the rebels, a young man with a short black beard and the uniform of a Brisevent Royal University student.

"We are House Valtier!" roared the Baron, who could prove himself quite brave when there were several bodyguards between him and his enemies. "We go where we please!"

The rebel leader eyed the carts. "This wealth belongs to the people of the Republic of Brisevent. It was stolen from hard-working citizens over the course of centuries, and now we're taking it back. Leave it all behind and we'll let you through. Don't bother to ever return... The Republic will be no place for kings or barons."

The Baron was turning purple. Lady Elena quickly put a hand on his shoulder. "Let me deal with this, Father," she said. "They outnumber us. We need to use diplomacy."

She gestured at Macra to follow her, and boldly advanced until she stood right between House Valtier's bodyguards and the rebel-held barricade.

[JNAProductions]

Sasha sighs. She sees how this is gonna be. "Gentlemen, gentlemen, mind explaining what the issue is?" she asks of the heavyset ones, moving between them and Markias. "I'm sure something can be worked out. But I need to know what the grievances are."

She looks at Markias, shooting him an expression that reads "I'm sticking my neck out for you-better make it worth it!"

[MCerberus]

Doc - the Ghostlight

Doc's not going to stick his neck into anyone's business, and the pirate politics are going to go over his head. Currently the person bleeding is not at the 'to death' stage so pretty much all is well in his mind.

"Remember to change the wraps daily, you know it i'int pretty when you don't."

Then a reply to the conversation comes to mind. Ancient wisdom of his clan's diaspora.

"Grandma always says it isn't love unless you're willing to take a mace to the shin."

[Dr.Gunsforhands]

Macra flushes and accepts her chastisement with a demure nod, thanking Lady Elena for understanding her servant's concern for her. It's a setback for someone who would rather do this sneakily, but her cover and her internalized idea of her own station demand she abide by it. At least the junior Valtier has a better understanding of how wealth is meant to be used going forward.

She eagerly follows Elena's lead. The revolution hasn't quite gotten to the point where the common people will stab someone just for trying to walk by. As much as the baron may hate the situation, his daughter's plan is working pretty well so far!

[-Sentinel-]

Doc - Ghostlight

"Grandma always says it isn't love unless you're willing to take a mace to the shin."

"Well, that guy back there took many stab wounds for that love," said Tomas, looking worried. "I just hope his pals don't come lookin' for payback."

"Eh, I'm not that well-known in this port," said Keiri. "They won't even know whose crew I'm on. At least, I don't think so." Now that her wound was bandaged, she sat up with a wince. "Still, Doc, can we count on you to keep this between us? Captain would be pissed."

---

Montgomery and Sasha - The Lighthouse inn, Mériault

Sasha sighs. She sees how this is gonna be. "Gentlemen, gentlemen, mind explaining what the issue is?" she asks of the heavyset ones, moving between them and Markias. "I'm sure something can be worked out. But I need to know what the grievances are."

"The issue," growled the shaven-headed man, "is that this little man here owes six hundred silvers to our boss Aneka, the Widow. Well, it was his da who owed the money, but he died, so..."

"And I'll pay!" insisted Markias. "Which I can't do if you kill me! Just need this one job on the Ghostlight..."

"How d'we know you'll come back?" replied the second thug. "And why would pirates even want you on their crew, anyway? You're no sailor. You're no fighter. You're a clockmaker's son!"

"...and apprentice," Markias added under his breath.

Spoiler

Show

Just a note that 600 silvers is a significant sum. In US dollars, it would be in the low five figures.

---

Macra - Brisevent

Lady Elena stood confidently before the insurrectionists. "We're all reasonable people here, my brave fellows," she said, spreading her hands. "We could simply—"

"Save it," the student leader cut her off, speaking loud enough for both his fellow rebels and the Baron's party to hear. "I see what you're trying to do here, young lady. You think we'll hold our fire just because two women are in the way. As if you nobles show any more mercy to the women of the lower classes! Last winter, the city watch had a seventy-year-old widow evicted from her home for late rent. They broke her arm when she resisted. She died in the streets less than a week later. You condemn the revolution for its violence... yet, you run a system that runs entirely on violence! A quieter kind of violence. Centuries of starvation and oppression, instead of a few days of riots. No more! If having your ill-gotten wealth confiscated by the Republic is the worst violence you face today, Lady Valtier, then you'll be getting off lightly."

He was well-spoken, compared to most of the commoners who took part in the revolt. No wonder they had put him in a leadership position. His little speech earned him many cheers from his fellow rebels. Macra understood in that moment that these men and women would not be bribed with fancy wine or shiny baubles.

Lady Elena seemed to understand it, too. So her tone changed. "Our guards are all trained soldiers," she warned, all conciliatory politeness gone. "They may be outnumbered by your little militia, but if they get the order to open fire, they'll kill... oh... half of you, at least. You can avoid that. You can put your men's lives above the gold that we carry. Let us through."

"You're wasting time, trying to reason with this rabble!" shouted the Baron from behind his bodyguards. "Come back here, Elena!"

Irritation was plain on Elena's face. "Just one moment, Father..."

"Oh, sod it," said Baron Valtier. "FIRE!"

His bodyguards fired a volley of musket balls at the rebels, killing or wounding several. The rebels took cover behind their barricade and returned fire with their guns and crossbows. Their accuracy left much to be desired, save for the soldiers among them, but Elena and Macra were in the middle of the crossfire. Cursing under her breath, Elena dropped to the ground, and was followed suit by Macra. Both sides then began reloading as fast as they could. House Valtier's bodyguards were better trained than the insurrectionists and would be done sooner.

Spoiler: OOC

Show

Now's the time for some kind of combat roll. (Or evasion or protection roll, if that's what Macra wants to focus on.)

The story I have in mind requires Macra to blow her cover at some point by showing off her skills, and I think this is a good opportunity.

[JNAProductions]

She's tempted. She is very tempted to simply leave the man to his fate. It's not her business-bad things happen all the time. She should just walk away, maybe wish him some luck. That's all.
But... Sasha thinks back. She doesn't know what the people did to find her, when she was lost, before everything happened to her. Did they stand by? Did they shrug, and say "Not my problem," leaving her to be captured?

Inwardly, she sighs. But outwardly, she says "I'm afraid that if you've beef with Markias' father, you should take it up with him instead. Because if you want to take it up with Markias here... You're taking it up with the entire Ghostlight, and I don't think you want that on your head."

[MCerberus]

Doc - the Ghostlight

"I mean nobody needs to know anybody else's business alright," Doc replies. However there is a little caveat to that. "Unless it's gunna end up being everyone's business."

"We got even odds of someone throwing fire bottles on deck tonight?"

[Dr.Gunsforhands]

By reflex, Macra pulls Elena into cover to protect her from friendly fire, behind one of the overturned tables that the villains brought for their barrier. The kitchen knife appears in her hand again. She looks up as the gunfighters duck into cover themselves. She'll need to get past them to rescue the baron himself, but she should be able to do it in a few jumps.

"Alright! Guess we'll just have to win! I'll be right back, Lady Elena!"

She lunges from her spot to that of a reloading rebel, looking to take them down with a tackle and a stab. As long as the enemy can't use the musket anymore, she's not terribly interested in taking it for herself. Maybe she'll toss it to Elena before she moves on to the next target.

Spoiler

Show

Royal Spy to roll for sneak attack: (3d6)[5][1][2](8)

[-Sentinel-]

Doc - Ghostlight

"We got even odds of someone throwing fire bottles on deck tonight?"

Keiri pursed her lips. "If they come for me, I s'pose you could hand me over to them," she said with extreme reluctance. "Let 'em have their revenge."

"Won't come to that, I hope," muttered Tomas.

Self-sacrifice was not something that came naturally to most pirates, but Captain Montgomery had a way of fostering a certain nobility of spirit among his crew.

---

Montgomery and Sasha - The Lighthouse inn, Mériault

"I'm afraid that if you've beef with Markias' father, you should take it up with him instead. Because if you want to take it up with Markias here... You're taking it up with the entire Ghostlight, and I don't think you want that on your head."

The shaven-headed thug glared back at Sasha, but clearly decided it was unwise to start trouble in a room full of crewmen of the Ghostlight—both veterans who would follow their captain no matter what, and new recruits eager to prove their worth. With a small nod, he indicated to his companion that it was time to leave.

"We will collect that debt," he warned Markias on his way out. "Even if we have to track you down all the way to the Spice Isles. Better sooner than later, boy, 'cause the Widow is still counting the interest."

Once the thugs had left, Markias exhaled. "Owe you one," he told Sasha. "You won't regret it. I may not look like much, but I'll be useful, I swear." He lowered his voice to a conspiratorial tone. "You know the longitude problem? Of course you do; you're a seafarer. Well, I know how to solve it. At least, I think so. My father left me with the means to do it, and now I just need to test it during a sea voyage."

It was an extravagant claim, to say the least. The measurement of longitude had vexed astronomers and navigators for centuries.

---

Macra - Brisevent

The rebel's eyes widened in surprise as Macra vaulted over the barricade with the grace of a cat. He went down with the spy's kitchen knife hilt-deep under his jaw, dropping his half reloaded gun. Nearby rebels frantically drew their swords and pointed their bayonets at Macra, but the next disciplined volley from House Valtier took out a few of them—leaving none standing between Macra and the student leader. She took her chances and went straight for him. The young man may have been a talker, but he was no fighter; within seconds, he was on the ground with a perforated lung, gasping for breath. The courage of the remaining rebels faltered and they ran.

Lady Elena joined Macra on the other side of the barricade a moment later. She threw one scornful look at the injured rebel leader, then drove her rapier into his heart with a nonchalance that shocked Macra, as if sticking her fork in a steak. Life drained out of the rebel leader's wide-open eyes.

"Bit of a windbag, that one," Elena noted dryly, wiping her blade on the dead man's Royal University uniform before returning it to its sheath. She tilted her head at Macra. "You're no chambermaid, are you?" she asked with a sly smirk.

Before Macra could respond, a cry came from the House Valtier party: "The Baron! He's injured!"

Both Elena and Macra looked behind them in alarm. Baron Valtier was swaying on his feet and clutching a stomach wound from a lucky musket ball. Two of his nearby bodyguards gently lowered him to the ground.

[JNAProductions]

"I better not," Sasha says. "We should head to the ship before more trouble shows up."

She leads Markias out of the inn, going for the docks and the Ghostlight. When the two arrive, Sasha directs Markias, saying "Make yourself useful-I'm going to get out of this ridiculous getup." She heads to her quarters, and quickly changes into a much more practical set of clothes, as well as shrinking her curves to more practical levels.

[Dr.Gunsforhands]

"A chambermaid isn't what you need right now."

Macra reaches into her pocket for her other secret weapon: a hidden bag of seeds and cereal, also known as her spell component pouch. She withdraws a small handful, vaults the barricade, crouches next to the baron, and whistles to one of the horses. The good horsie comes running and bows down to get its treat. This also makes it easier to lift the patient onto its back. "Stay with us, old man! We'll get you outta here, king's orders!"

She grabs a wine bottle from the cart to splash on whatever the guards have to use as a bandage. "I can bring baron and baroness Valtier to the docks. If you can spare a man, you can meet us there with the other carts."

Spoiler

Show

Animal Friend for potential horse/cart speed: (4d6)[6][3][2][2](13)

Spy to know if there's a loyal healer on the way to where we're going: (3d6)[6][6][2](14)

[MCerberus]

Doc- the Ghostlight

"Aye it isn't going to come to that," Doc reassures. "Whatsit you guys are always saying, punch a shark in the nose. Don't think anyone has a real stomach for a full fight."

[-Sentinel-]

Doc and Sasha - Ghostlight

Doc heard footsteps on the gangplank, outside. Fearing more trouble, he hurried upstairs to the main deck, but it was just Sasha and a young man with blond hair and a heavy pack.

"Oh, hey, Sasha," said Tomas, who had followed Doc outside. "Who's this?"

---

Macra - Brisevent

House Valtier's physician, Doctor Archambault, did his best to bandage his employer's injury, but there was only so much even he could do on a cobblestone street under the dim light of streetlamps.

"It's a stomach wound, sir, you need surgery," he said.

"We'll do it on the ship," said Galraud, the commander of the guard, whose men were already taking apart the barricade. "The port could fall to the insurgents tonight, and once it falls, we won't be able to get out of the city."

"Shipboard surgery isn't ideal," responded the doctor. "The sway of the deck... Some doctors are used to it, but not me."

"We head to the ship," Lady Elena cut in. Her face was shrouded in shadows, so it was hard to read her expression, but she seemed to be keeping it together for now. "Doctor, I'm confident that if any man can save my father, you are that man. But we can't dally. The rebels who fled will bring in reinforcements soon. Their so-called 'Republic' wants our gold."

"Stay with us, old man!" said Macra, leaning over Baron Valtier. "We'll get you outta here, king's orders!"

By then, the Baron's face was grey and sweaty, and he did not quite seem to comprehend Macra's words, but he still nodded.

"The king, eh?" said Lady Elena. "Should've known he'd put an agent in our house..." Her tone was not hostile. Had Macra broken her cover under different circumstances, perhaps the Valtiers would have treated her as an enemy, but right now, Elena clearly understood that Macra was an asset to them.

At last, an opening was made in the barricade, and the horse-drawn carts squeezed through it. Macra's mixture of seeds was effective and the horses made very good time for the last few blocks separating them from the port. And not a moment too soon: the port was under siege by the rebels. With musket and sword, House Valtier's bodyguards shot and cut their way through the besiegers and were welcomed by the cheers of the loyalist soldiers still defending the port.

"How long can you hold, good sir?" Lady Elena asked a tired-looking officer who had his arm in a sling.

"Not very long, my lady," admitted the officer. "An hour or two, maybe. Less than that if the rebels bring cannons."

"Buy us enough time to rig our ship, and we'll take you with us when we set sail. You don't have to die here."

"Thank you, my lady."

There were very few ships remaining in the port, as most of the people rich enough to own one had already fled Brisevent during the past week. Thankfully, House Valtier's ship, the Cormorant—named after the Valtiers' heraldic symbol—was still there, and undamaged by the battle. She was a three-decked, sumptuous-looking vessel, with ornate carvings, gold leaf, and brightly-dyed sails, and was built for comfort rather than warfare. She did boast two dozen cannons for defense against pirates, but only enough gunners to man about half of them. The Baron was carried on board on a makeshift stretcher. House Valtier's servants hurriedly began to carry the family wealth from the carts to the ship's hold, often bumping into the sailors trying to rig the ship as fast as they could. Meanwhile, the Baron's bodyguards joined the soldiers on the fortifications to try to hold the port a little longer. Lady Elena did not follow her father's stretcher inside the ship, but remained on the deck to try to coordinate everything.

"I'm sure Doctor Archambault can work better without me breathing down his neck," Elena told Macra. "As for you... do whatever you think will be the most useful."

OOC

Spoiler

Show

Hope you don't mind your updates being always longer, Dr.Gunsforhands. You just have more stuff going on right now.

[MCerberus]

Doc - deck of the Ghostlight

While getting some fresh air would usually be a good thing, to doc it still smells like expired roses and boiled leather. Funny that. To the newcomer the fresh blood may complete the outfit, but with Sasha there at least nothing too bad seems to be happening.

"Bring us more trouble?"

[JNAProductions]

"Claims his dad was on the verge of solving the longitude problem, and he can complete the work," Sasha says. "Also managed to make me stick my neck out for him-his dad was in deep debt, and some punks were looking to collect it out of his ass."

She pauses a moment, then realizes she didn't actually introduce the man. "He's Markias, by the way-and he better be the hardest damn worker on the ship given what I got him out of."

[MCerberus]

Doc - deck of the Ghostlight

There's a certain amount of sympathy that immediately comes to Doc's mind about the lack of funding. That keeps happening for some reason. "Nice to meetcha. I'm mostly called Doc. And I know what its like when coin gets in the way of progress. They said I couldn't harvest screams, but they were only half right."

A small pause.
"If you get hurt I'm the one that stitches folks up here."

[Dr.Gunsforhands]

Macra - Brisevent - The Cormorant - Outer Deck

"Of course, my lady," Macra says, her eyes already combing the ramp for potential infiltrators among the servants running items back and forth. Her posture is different than it was as a chambermaid, with one hand on her hip and the other gripping her knife as an artist holds a paintbrush. "I'm sorry about earlier. My orders were clear: your life is a greater asset to this kingdom than any volume of treasure. I hope you know that."

If Macra had it her way, they'd be sneaking away on a vessel that's less of an obvious target. The Cormorant is a comfy home away from home for rich city people, but to everyone else in the ocean it will be a giant, gleaming treasure chest just waiting to be cracked open. That's not really an option now, if Elena is to keep her promise.

She casts a glance to the sea. A big flock of gulls sit on the water some distance from shore, probably to avoid the smoke. The fish have probably retreated in much the same way, with all the noise and activity.

She looks down again at the gun-pocked fortifications. In theory, she could join the guards down there, but Macra's never really been much for lining up with the big rifles. She's more comfortable hunting fish with spears and birds with bigger birds.

She thinks of calling out for an animal to send a message, but of course that's not an option anymore. The only people who would receive them were her partners. Taken down, all at once, and by who? Macra doesn't even know.

She catches herself fidgeting with her knife. What's she going to do? There's no sense overthinking it; she'll just do her job! Keep her eyes open, gather intel, and see everyone safely to... uh...

"Lady Elena, where are we going?"

[-Sentinel-]

Ghostlight (port of Mériault)

"He's Markias, by the way-and he better be the hardest damn worker on the ship given what I got him out of."

Markias chuckled nervously. "Ha ha, for sure! Well, to tell the truth, physical labor isn't my forte, and I'm afraid of heights... but I trust you can find a job suited to my talents. Maybe assistant navigator, or something."

"If you get hurt I'm the one that stitches folks up here."

Markias tipped his hat at Doc. "Ah, a fellow man of education. We'll get along, I'm sure."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

I'll have the ship set sail in the near future. Last chance if there's anything you want to do while in port.

---

Cormorant (port of Brisevent)

"Lady Elena, where are we going?"

The noblewoman gave Macra a searching look, perhaps wondering if a known spy should be granted this crucial piece of information before they even set sail. In the end, she answered: "Farobianco. It's not too far, and we have powerful allies there. They'll help us take back our city." She pursed her lips. "There'll be a steep price, of course. Among people like us, allyship is always transactional. They'll ask for a good chunk of our wealth, plus a promise for more in the future. And I'll likely have to marry someone. But it's better than accepting the loss of our titles. My ancestors helped build Brisevent, and I won't let it be ruled by some rabble with torches and pitchforks."

[JNAProductions]

Sasha looks at Markias. She takes a deep breath. And then another. Doc can tell she's doing her absolute best to remain calm and not slap the crap out of Markias.

Eventually, she opens her mouth to talk. "Markias. I am about to close my eyes. I will keep them shut for about ten seconds. And when they're open, I will not see you. This is a courtesy to Doc-because if I do see you when my eyes open, I am going to tear your lily-livered, hoity-toity, weak-muscled body into small pieces. Understand?"

She closes her eyes, and counts out loud. "One. Two. Three..."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

I'm good to move on!

And Sasha isn't being serious-well, not entirely. She's peeved as all heck that she stuck her neck out for someone who's bad at labor and scared of heights, but admittedly, that's on her. If Markias is actually there when she's done with her countdown, she'll slap him, but probably not much more.

Still. She's in a mood.

[MCerberus]

Doc - deck of the Ghostlight

Despite not being a permanent crew member he's seen this before. It really can't lead to anything good. He turns to Markias. "Oh we'll have to talk later. Lass isn't one to be taken lightly. Remember me talking about harvesting screams..."

Spoiler: OOC

Show

ready to set sail

[Dr.Gunsforhands]

Cormorant

"I see. Hence the need to bring the wealth along..."

Actually, Macra doesn't understand it at all. She's not a politician. But, it does give her an idea of how she can speed this up.

She hops down to the loading ramp and pulls a couple pinches of granola from her pouch. The ship is big enough to load the carts all at once, if the horses weren't so scared to set foot on the dock...

Spoiler: OOC

Show

I guess this is a situation where I would roll to see how well this works before describing it, but the plan is to heave the carts of loot aboard as quickly as possible, so we can call back the guards and set sail that much faster. The spell may just amount to calming and coaxing the horses to pull the carts aboard, or it could theoretically be so effective a buff that they just leap on immediately, weightless and carefree.

(4d6)[3][2][1][1](7)

[-Sentinel-]

May 17, year 809

Ghostlight – Mériault

"Markias. I am about to close my eyes. I will keep them shut for about ten seconds. And when they’re open, I will not see you. This is a courtesy to Doc-because if I do see you when my eyes open, I am going to tear your lily-livered, hoity-toity, weak-muscled body into small pieces. Understand?"

She closes her eyes, and counts out loud. "One. Two. Three..."

“I can measure longitude, remember?” Markias said hurriedly. Seeing that Sasha was still counting, he mumbled: “I—I’ll go claim a bunk,” and promptly disappeared belowdecks. He was gone by the time Sasha opened her eyes.

Spoiler

Show

I love Sasha already.

---

Cormorant – Brisevent

Macra’s coaxing proved ineffective; if anything, the horses only seemed further agitated by her insistence. All the wealth from the carts had to be loaded on the ship by hand. The horses were left behind, much to the regret of Lady Elena, as many of the beasts were pedigreed animals. House Valtier’s servants did not have the expertise of dockworkers when it came to properly balancing a ship’s cargo; by the time the Cormorant was fully loaded, she was tilting a bit on the port side, which greatly annoyed the seamen who would have to actually sail the drunken-looking ship.

But there was no time to rearrange the cargo. As the officer at the gate had feared, the insurgents brought cannons to crush the last of the monarchist resistance at the port. The thirty or so soldiers defending the walls retreated in good order to the Cormorant and were welcomed aboard the ship, as Lady Elena had promised. The Cormorant lurched out of her berth and set sail mere minutes before the forces of the new Republic of Brisevent took over the port. A few rebel cannons took long-distance shots at the ship as she exited the harbor, but aside from a torn sail and a bit of cosmetic damage to her aftcastle’s ornate carvings, the Cormorant got out in one piece.

The Valtiers were the last noble house to leave Brisevent with both their wealth and their lives.

---

May 18, year 809

Mériault

Though it was only the crack of dawn, the port of Mériault was bustling with activity as a dozen pirate crews prepared their ships for the hunt. Brisevent could fall to the rebels any day now, and its fall would cut off the flow of treasure-laden ships that had brought all the pirates to these waters. If any crews wanted to catch some prey before the feeding frenzy came to a sudden end, the time was now.

Captain Montgomery had a different idea, though. Not nearly as short-sighted as other pirates, he planned to offer protection to a fleeing noble house and gain their friendship—or at least, long-term employment with them. Some of his crewmen were skeptical of the idea, but the captain maintained that such a relationship would continue paying dividends long after the crews of other pirate ships had spent all the gold they had pillaged.

It was likely that Montgomery understood, better than most, the nature of pirates—they could fritter away a king’s bounty in very little time. Give a pirate enough gold to retire comfortably, and within a month, you will find him destitute and desperately looking for work. Perhaps it was better to seek an arrangement that would bring the Ghostlight and her crew a steady trickle of income rather than one big score.

Shortly before setting sail, while running down the checklist of supplies, it was found that the Ghostlight was running low on long matches for igniting the cannons. Captain Montgomery sent Sasha out to buy some. On her way back with the matches, Sasha was accosted by four well-armed pirates, led by a woman of about forty with a long braid of jet-black hair and a nasty old scar across her cheek. Sasha recognized her as Captain Maria Sevilla, who commanded the notorious Toll of Midnight. She and Montgomery had a bit of a history.

“You. I know you. You serve on the Ghostlight, yes?” growled Maria Sevilla. It seemed more of a statement than a question. “You’re coming with us. We need to have a little chat with your captain, and we’d like to have you with us to keep things civil.”

In other words, they intended to take Sasha hostage.

---

Cormorant – Open ocean near Brisevent

Macra stood atop the aftcastle of the Cormorant, keeping a wary eye on the dark sail behind them. She did not know if it was just her imagination, but she was pretty sure it was getting bigger every hour. They were being pursued, and the other ship was gaining on them.

“They’ve been after us since we departed,” said Lieutenant Aubert, the port garrison officer with his arm in a sling, also eyeing the pursuing ship. “I think they were waiting near the mouth of the harbor, ready to go after any ship that came out of Brisevent.”

“If they’re just pirate scum, my men can deal with them,” replied Commander Galraud confidently. “Let them come.” The commander of House Valtier’s bodyguards had been itching for a fight ever since the injury of his employer. He seemed to think that a heroic victory in battle would somehow undo his failure to protect Baron Valtier.

Speaking of Baron Valtier, Doctor Archambault had been hard at work trying to patch him up in the Cormorant’s sick bay. For most of the night, the Baron had moaned in agony, loud enough for everyone on board to hear—stomach wounds were known to be excruciating—but by now the noises had ceased. Perhaps he was mercifully unconscious. Or dead, though if that was the case, Doctor Archambault was keeping quiet about it. The physician had still not reemerged from belowdecks. Lady Elena was nowhere to be seen, and Macra assumed the noblewoman had finally gone to her father’s bedside.

Macra felt something brush her ankle and jumped in surprise—it was not often that something got the drop on her. The ship’s cat was rubbing his side against her leg. He held a fat (and still weakly-twitching) mouse in his mouth, which he dropped at Macra’s feet. An offering.