The Captain's Grave

The fog that came up saved your hull, of that you can be sure. The Flying Cragworm severely outclassed your smaller freighter, and attacked with the ferocity of its desert born name sake.You're not sure what luck shined down on you, but the Flying Cragworm does not follow you. The crew follows they're captain's orders and rigged for silent running, slips into the shoals and around the island nearby. By the time you're in the open sea, it is dark and you sail under a sky full of dazzling stars.

Your captain, Lauchmair, slumps to the deck. Graciously wounded in battle with the pirate ship, he heroically guided the ship to safety, caring for his crew before his own needs. The first mate, Jolly Camber, was knocked into the sea, blood foaming from his rent belly.

The survivors gather together in the middeck. Lauchmair is laid out, dead from blood loss, and wrapped his proud long navy duster with white epaulets, his officer coast from the war. Well, some call it a war, even a civil war, but the Empire calls it only an insurrection. The winners write the histories, after all.

Dante stands too one side, twirling his fishknife in his fingers. The quartermaster has been speaking quietly with the crew for the past fifteen minutes. Whispers one on one. Purposefully not looking at anyone. Not yet. He's going to make his bid for captain soon. But not yet, not until he's sure he has the votes.

---

Introduce your characters, with descriptions. Add what Captain Lauchmair meant to you. He's an open book so help me write his eulogy to start us off. Also, how do you deal with this play for power by Dante?

The Crew
Captain: vacant
First mate: vacant
Boatswain (bos'n): (VagueGM's Arkus PC)
quartermaster: Dante
Doctor: Cordell (Data's PC)
Navigator: Areen Sincos (NABO's Delve PC)

Sailors:
Resalon (Windyridge's Glaive PC)
'Frenzied' Xix
Maitland 'Vulture'
Camus, sailor
Alvar 'The Brave'
Dorley 'The Snake'

It all happened so fast. The attack, the battle, the injured flowing in. Cordell was always confident in his abilities as a healer - but, he'd never been in a situation like this. He'd never seen war - not like the others had. It took all his nerve for the young doctor to keep his hands steady as he weaved the nanites in the air into sutures and stitches to patch up the wounded, to keep his voice calm as he conducted triage in their ship's tiny sickbay. It shook him more than he wanted to admit, to see so much pain in one place, and to have the sole responsibility of fixing it - of healing this crew - his crew - resting solely on his narrow shoulders.

But, he was determined. This was what he was meant to do. And so, steeling himself against the screams and moans of his companions, Cordell got to work.

It was hours later when he was finally able to get his last patient stable. Their ship had escaped, fortunately, though not without losses. His knees almost buckled when he heard that Jolly had been killed, his body lost at sea. He'd loved Jolly, the first mate like a big brother to most of the crew.

Washing the blood off of his hands, Cordell leaves sick bay for the first time in hours and heads up to the deck, to see if any of his crewmembers had smaller injuries they didn't think warranted healing (which the doctor vehemently disagreed with). But, as soon as the nano emerged, the first thing he saw was their captain falling to the deck.

"Captain!"

He'd kept his cool so well down in sick bay, but this surprised a near-scream out of him. He rushed over to Captain Lauchmair and quickly began to examine him, blood coating his fingers once again. It was bad - looking around, the Captain had already lost so much blood. How long had he been up here holding this wound? Why hadn't he come down so Cordell could help him?

It's not too late. The nano thinks, even though his brain is rapidly evaluating his chances, and they weren't good. I can still save him. He prays as he shakily begins to stitch their captain back together. He's already overtaxed, his control and focus wavering, but if Captain Lauchmair could stand out here for hours with a hole in his gut just to get the crew to safety, the least Cordell could do is save his life.

He'd never seen the captain look so pale and weak before. It was childish - and maybe Cordell still is too much of a kid to be out on these seas - but, the nano had always seen the captain as invincible. A steady rock standing unwaveringly against the sea. For him to look so frail...

A pale hand falls on Cordell's shaking ones and pushes them away. The nano looks up at Lauchmair in confusion, but the captain just smiles grimly and shakes his head.

Then, he's gone.

And Cordell is left kneeling there, with blood on his hands.

When the ship was attacked, Areen made her way below deck. She can hold herself in a fight but she much prefers not to, so when fighting breaks out, she is usually not in the midst of it. She secures cargo, makes sure everyone is sufficiently armed, occasionally sets off traps she planted, but she is often also needed to help the ship escape. She takes the helm when the captain is preoccupied with other things, so frequently when weapons are drawn, the responsility of escape falls on her.

When the captain ordered the ship into shallow waters, she rushed back on deck and made sure they wouldn't run aground themselves. The captain and Areen were shouting updates at each other but when his voice got weaker, she knew something was up even though she couldn't see him. Then Cordell emerged and she heard him yell. Areen closed her eyes and swallowed hard, this cannot be happening.

She quickly checked that they weren't on collision course for anything and ran off in the direction she heard the commotion from. She found Cordell leaning over the captain, trying his best. But he's just a kid, his training couldn't prepare him for this. She kneels down and whispers to the captain "Looks like our crooked ways have finally caught up with us, huh?" she smiles sadly, remembering how the captain always joked. "I wish you didn't have to go yet, Samill. I never did get the chance to show you my favourite secret place. Though looking back, maybe it wasn't much of a secret place at all. Maybe it was right here, next to you."

With tears in her eyes she watched him take his last breath and slip away. Now here we are, quietly gathered on deck. Silenced by the heaviness of today's events. The captain laying in front of us, the first mate nowhere to be found, though one of the sailors says he saw him fall overboard grievously wounded. Plenty of other injuries between all of them. Only Dante is whispering, slimy bastard. Areen knows exactly what he is planning...

Resalon had never been on a ship of any kind unless you count a small dinghy used in the occasional fishing foray. He was too busy staying alive along with the rest of the inhabitants of his poverty-stricken island of Maelock. His unquenchable curiosity and voracious appetite for exploration lead to his securing a place onboard a ship. It made sense that he would want to take the next step and get off the island. With his family in dire straits and the rebellion quashed, there was nothing to keep him in Maelock, especially when his mentor had been killed, most likely assassinated by an empire lackey.

The ship's captain Lauchmair had heard of his exceptional fighting prowess and was looking for a strong, tenacious, crew member. One who could do some heavy lifting, explore the unknown, and be loyal. He took the young Resalon under his wing and taught him about the ship. The one frustration Resalon had was that he could find potentially valuable things during his explorations but could not craft any numenera. He eventually was resigned to this fate. Besides, there were others that could, and the captain taught him about teamwork and patience, and using the assets he did have.

On the ship, Resalon would help Aereen with cargo. He did the heavy lifting and she figured out where to secure it. He would help where needed and wasn't too proud to do any job asked of him. He was strong and stocky, fast and smart. Handsome with curious brown eyes, he had thick brown hair with two stripes of bright grey running through its medium length.

Now he found himself on deck, with the captain in dire straits. He was not political and he hadn't made an effort to fully understand the rebellion or the empire, leaving him subject to the influence of others. He wasn't a stranger to bloody conflict but the Captain's injuries were hard for him to process. He felt useless just standing there but there was nothing he could do.

Dante, the ship's quartermaster, he did not like one bit. He was arrogant and not as smart as he thought he was. Resalon also had a sneaky suspicion that Dante had a hidden agenda and didn't care a jot about the crew or anyone but himself.

From their vantage point in the rigging of the main mast Adil sees the captain fall and knows in their gut it is serious, but there is still work to be done if they are to avoid being caught again, and the medic is taking care of it. The sudden quiet makes them look down at the deck and they know the captain is dead --Cordell would not have stopped working unless one of them was.

Adil has known the captain a long time. They are not surprised at him giving his life for his crew. While it is not true that that is the way he would have wanted to die --Adil knows Lauchmair planned to never die, but admitted he was executing that plan badly-- it is very in-character of the stubborn man.

"To your stations!" Adil calls. "We are not out of this yet. Rig for quiet running! Lash that cargo, we don't want to leave a trail!" They start issuing orders to the deck crew.

A prickle on the back of their neck makes them look over at the quartermaster. They can not hear what he is saying, but his posture is a give-away. THAT is going to be a problem. Adil thinks, but there is no time to deal with it now, there is work to be done, and Lauchmair's vessel needs to be made shipshape before they can take the time to grieve (and scheme), or the captain's sacrifice will be for nought.

Alvar the handsome sailor, howls before Maitland claps her hand over him.

"Quiet, fool. We're not safe from the Flying Cragsworm yet." Alvar whimpers in grief, somehow making the effort seem practiced and polished and magical.

The quartermaster gives a black look at Adil but can't disagree. "Tend to your tasks, lads, we have leagues to go before we measure safe with by the cup."

Adil can see Dante doing the rounds --whispering in the ears of those susceptible and, it appears, passing out surreptitious portions of grog to those who seem favorable. Deep down Adil knows they should be doing something about this, sooner rather than later, but the ship has taken damage, and their priority --as bosun-- is to get it and everyone aboard to safety. Dante should be focusing on the same, but he can claim is acting on his duties to the crew and morale.

When Adil agreed to take on this venture with Lauchmair, it was on the express condition that they would not have to deal with this sort of politics and infighting --much to the captain's disappointment at the time. Still, they worry that this will bite them later.

The grieving crew is working well together, and Adil finds they really love them. They had not thought about staying on without Lauchmair, but thinking about what comes next makes them sad, leaving is not as clear-cut an option as they had assumed it would be.

---

Eventually, when the ship is made sound and they have put distance between themselves and any pursuit --and with no orders needed-- the crew gather to say their farewells to the captain and the absent first mate.

Adil hangs back, watching carefully. They don't have a speech planned --they never do, until the last minute-- and don't want to speak, but there are people here who would expect it --rely on it even-- and it is selfish to wallow in one's own grief... but everyone is selfish, sometimes.

Adil orders everyone to their station and Areen walks to the compartment that held her working area, a desk and surrounding walls covered in maps of all kinds of places. She sits down at her desk and stares across the room. The chair on the captain's desk is empty and she feels useless alone in this room.

She picks up the compass he had gifted her on the 10 year mark of sailing together. She had taken great care of it, even though she used it all day every day. As she watches the needle sway softly with the waves a teardrop splashes on the still unscratched cover glass. The shards in her skin give off a soft glow while she cries quietly. Then, in a sudden anger she hurls the compass across the room, the glass shatters. "Fuck, you were too young for this Samill! It's not right." she yells at no one in particular. She decides right then and there that she is going to bring the captain's body to somewhere he would have wanted to be, give him a proper burial. She knows a smaller island, they occasionally stored some cargo there, uninhabited because it's covered in dense jungle but Captain Lauchmair spoke very fondly of it.

Resalon smoothes down his hair, a habit he has when stressed or upset, and makes his way to the cargo areas to check on the goods. The ship had done a lot of sudden shifting during the battle, and he needed to check that their cargo was still secure.

He was happy to get away from the obnoxious Dante too. Reporting to him would be a bitter pill to swallow if that's what was going to happen.

Resalon finds the cargo jostled a little, but one thing that is apparent is a mysterious crate that was loaded at the last port. The captain had said it was a delivery to ... well, he didn't rightly say. He'd been interrupted by Jolly Camber and never answered.

He hears a sob, more a sniffle, from near the stores at the stem. When he investigates, he finds Camus. The science minded wright is trending to the ships numenera, and likely finding a quiet moment to mourn her brother, the first mate.

Cordell just sits in shock for a moment, hands still hovering over the captain’s body. He doesn’t look up when Areen comes by to speak, but he does listen to her mourning and feels his gut lurch.

He can’t afford to lose it right now though. Just as Adil calls for the crew to continue on, Cordell knows his duty. It’s up to him to handle the body, wrap it, and take it below deck to await the funeral. He thinks of it as ‘the body’ now - the Captain is long gone now.

The nano isn’t in any state of mind to pay much attention to the politics of the ship - he may be naive, but with the grief he’s feeling right now, he can’t imagine how anyone could be plotting anything at a time like this. Not even Dante could be that callous - right?

Determinedly, Cordell wraps the body with cool professionalism, then takes the body down to the med bay for the time being. They’ll decide on the method of burial when the ship is out of danger.

Resalon adjusts any cargo that might have been jostled a bit and resecures everything. Then there was that mysterious crate again with a delivery address unknown. It had piqued his curiosity back when it was first loaded, and it was stirring up his questioning mind again. What is that thing, he wonders?

His musings are abruptly brought to an end however when he hears some noise at the stern. It's Camus, doing what she does with the numenera. "Hello Camus. I didn't realize you were in here. I am sorry about your brother. You must be very sad."

If Adil heard the outburst they judiciously choose not to comment, and instead wait a few moments before entering the small charts room.

"What's our heading, Nav?" They ask Areen gently --using her title rather than her name as an acknowledgement of how important she is it to ship.

The captain had not told the rest of the crew what their cargo's destination was and Adil hopes he or Jolly informed Areen, but would not be surprised if they had not had time to, in which case she would know best where they can layup and lick their wounds while working it out.

They bend and carefully pick up the compass and broken glass and place it back where it lives. There is no judgement in the act.

In response to Adil's question, Areen pulls a rolled up map from a compartment and spreads it across the table: "Change of plans, we're taking a detour", she growls.

She wordlessly measures out some distances and then points to a spot on the map so tiny it's barely visible. "This is the place, and we... are here" she explains, putting her finger on another map area, now in a friendlier but still commanding tone. "It's about two weeks out of our way to the cargo dropoff... As for right now, we can either make land right about here and wait out until we're sure the Cragworm is off our trail or move to deeper waters and do our best to outrun them."

Adil let's the harsh words flow off them, they understand that people react badly at times like this. They instead nod and study the map until realisation dawns.

"Ah. Yes," They agree when they recognise the location. "I think he would like that." The captain had no family --other than the crew-- to whom his body should be returned --unlike Jolly, but there they have no body to return, and Adil does not envy Camus having to break that news to her family.

"With you at the wheel," Adil says to Areen encouragingly. "I am sure we can outmaneuver anything they have." Their mind is reaching out to the ship --simple as it is-- and assessing their condition. "We are rattled and hurt, but we will hold together." They say, meaning more than just the planks of the ship, hopefully Areen will pick up on that and take heart.

Areen nods. She stands up, about to head to the bridge. Then she carefully grabs her compass and examines it: "Thanks for picking this up... I'll go ahead and let Cordell know about the plans for the body"

Just as she's about to head out, she stops and turns:"Adil, watch out for Dante. I've told the Captain time and time again that he's up to no good. He wouldn't believe it, you know how stubborn he was... but I'm telling you too, Dante is exactly the kind of guy who would take advantage of this situation"

Areen walks down the narrow hallway leading to the sick bay, she announces: "Cordell, I need to speak with you." She walks up to him and says: "How long can you keep the Captain in his current condition? And if the answer is anything less than two weeks, you have about 30 seconds to come up with a way to make it two weeks" her vaguely threatening tone, Cordell would realize, is more determination than any actual threat to his safety.

Camus wipes her eyes with her sleeve, her face defiant and her back ramrod straight, as if expecting a ribbing. A sailor's life is often a hard one, and weakness is quickly washed away.

"I'll be fine. It is the way, Resalon. And Cordell," she adds as the doctor struggles dragging the captain's body down into cargo. "You have business with me?" The last is said gently, as if she realizes that the doctor is less likely to be combative as the shadowy glaive.

Dante approaches Adil after Areen leaves. "You got the rank, bos'n, but I've got the loyalty of the crew. It would be a good sign if you backed me as captain. I'd even let you stay bos'n, you've done that job well enough. Alvar will be me mate."

Alvar follows him, and leans against the side. "We got no quarrel with you, if you don't make it a quarrel. Just, no one wants the likes of you in charge of what's what, savvy?"

"Ok, I'll leave you be but in a moment. You wouldn't happen to know what's in that crate would you, or where it's going?"

It's about then that he sees Cordell in need of aid. "Here, Cordell. Let me help you with ....," but he doesn't finish. He can't bring himself to say the body. He helps the doctor move it into the cargo area.

Cordell was just getting the captain's body onto one of the examination tables with Camus called out to him. He'd seen the wright crying, likely over the death of her brother, and the doctor knew his own grief at the loss of the first mate was nothing compared to hers. A more experienced physician might have words of comfort, but for now all Cordell could do is keep a respectful distance and pretend he didn't see the tears.

Which is why he's so surprised when Camus call out to him. His black eyes turn to her, intense and examining in a way that he knew others found to be unnerving, but he didn't actually know how to stop.

Resalon grabs the other end and lifts most of the weight, the glaive much stronger than the nano, and Cordell takes the excuse to break eye contact for now. Cordell silently directs Resalon to lift it onto the table, and thanks him softly, before he turns to respond to Camus with his hands free, "... The body, it needs to be-" Before he could finish his sentence however, the navigator announces her presence - causing the doctor to jolt at the unexpected arrival. "A-Areen!"

The first question Areen asks is one he expects, and almost immediately opens his mouth to answer - only for it to shut with a snap at the navigator's second sentence. Two weeks was a long time to store a body on a ship, a regular embalming wouldn't be enough. It was certainly not a problem Cordell had put any thought into solving before, though perhaps he should have.

The thirty second time limit doesn't fluster him, whether it was an exaggeration or not - he'd never been the type to delay in figuring out a problem. His dark eyes turn to the wright again, "Camus, do we have anything on the ship that can be used to cool the body to freezing?"