Admiral's Story

"You’re welcome," says Admiral, bemused. It’s not every day someone thanks him for violently commandeering a ship. Usually people are quite upset about it, actually.

He looks around, taking stock of the ship and the people aboard in order to determine what needs to be done to get this boat moving as quickly as possible.

The 6 freed captives are all human, 5 of which looking of Sindhi descent. They look tired, beaten, and starving.

The woman is pale by way of comparison. She has brownish hair and appears fit and agile. Tattoos mark her skin. You guess she is from a barbarian tribe from the far southern continent of Davania. In you travels on the Whisker you have met only a few loners from these lands who joined fool hearted pirate crews when they ventured south, seeking mythical treasures hidden in ancient jungle ruins.

The ship itself, although obviously designed to be a slaver vessel, is small but sturdy. A quick peek around will show:











The tunnel continues to howl with winds. A small crew could raise these sails and get either of these ships moving.

Admiral regards the freed prisoners with a critical eye. They’re not much of a crew but this isn’t much of a ship and they only need to get it out of this tunnel and into the harbour.

"Alright, listen up!" he says as he paces up and down the deck, slashing through the mooring lines that secure the boat to the dock. "There’s a small army of iron ring agents on their way and we need to get this ship moving posthaste. You and you—" he gestures to the Davanian woman and another of the freed prisoners. "I want you on the tillers." He points to the aft of the ship, where there appears to be a pair of tillers instead of a wheel for steering. "Taresh, we don’t want anyone using the other ship to pursue us. A few firebolts to the sails should take care of that, I think. Skeev, keep watching the door and give a shout if we’ve got company. Everyone else, follow me! I’m going to need your help to hoist the sails."

As you slash through the mooring lines, the boat begins to rock more fiercely on the turbulent waters in this tunnel. Coincidentally, swirling winds seem to gain force and create a howling echo--that you yell your commands over--through the massive passage.

The newly freed prisoners are initially startled by your convincing call to action--all but the woman, who you catch smirking at your orders as if she senses the part of your act that's a bit of a charade--but they all--including the woman--quickly understand the urgency and snap to work on your directions. Soon, under your oversight, the sails are raised and full of wind. The ships lunges down the tunnel, the woman and the other at the tillers.

Beyond the flame engulfed sails of the ship you left behind, you make out a number of Ring agents bursting onto the ledge through the portal door as your newly appropriated ship makes its way far from the dock.

Near you, Skeev, looking at the stranded agents, sighs in relief and says quietly within your earshot, "Why serve a king when you can serve yourself?"

As soon as the ship is safely under way and the crew (such as they are) no longer need him to play the part of captain, Admiral stops pretending and sits down on the deck, slumping back against the bulwark, exhausted and battered. His fur is matted with blood— his own and others’— and, without the adrenaline and excitement of the escape driving him forward, self-doubt and sorrow begin to creep up on him again. Ever since Ebzer died, he has been desperately trying to step into the old buccaneer’s boots, to be the ferocious, fearless captain the Whisker needs, but if his crew turned against him, then he must have let them down somehow. If he gets revenge, takes his ship back, who’s to say he won’t let them down again? Who’s to say they’ll even give him another chance?

Skeev’s voice startles Admiral out of his despondent navel-gazing and he pats the deck beside him, inviting Skeev to come sit with him. "I think I have something of yours," he says, rummaging around in the pockets of his coat. He pulls out the pouch full of dice and coins and rat jerky he found and tosses it to Skeev.

Grabbing it out of the air, the goblin immediately recognizes the pouch when he looks at his hand. "What!?..Where?...How?...You?...Oh. The bench," says Skeev, bewildered, as it looks like every emotion floods his mind.

Forgetting about you for a moment, he shakes the dice out into his hand and shifts them around in his palm. Then he says with a sadness in his voice, "My brother, Smite, made me these, just before Korg decided he deserved more for being a lazy fat king and sent Smite on a night party to steal Rajahadraja tribute coming in to Jahore in 'secret'. The caravan was well armored, only a couple escaped. Smite didn't. I was just a snotling then."

"My condolences," says Admiral, seriously. "I’m sure he would be very proud of his little brother if he saw all that you’ve accomplished in just the last few hours. Killing the Nightmare... Defying your King and the Iron Ring… You’re a very brave goblin." Deciding that he and Skeev could both use a distraction to lift their spirits, he tilts his head inquisitively and asks, "Did he teach you any dice games?"

"Yeah!" suddenly Skeev sounds like a kid. "Theres Duel, Rumble, Gem Grab...that's my favorite. He always won and I got my hand smashed all the time." He happily continues to explain. "You see, you throw this one here to to see what's the gem...then throw the others and fast, snatch any gems that come up before the other player. Your hand gets smashed out of the way if you’re not fast enough. When all the dice are scooped up, then the betting starts. You say something like...for two dice I bet you can't throw 3 gems. It goes until one goblin's got all the dice."

The woman at the tiller, takes notice of your interaction with the goblin, and calls out to you interrupting your talk with Skeev, "Captain," she addresses, not patronizingly, but as if she senses your self-doubt and hopes to keep your confidence and alertness high. "The fool slavers didn't keep us below deck on the way in here. I believe I know the way out. There were few turns in this massive sea tunnel. I can follow them back to the harbor."

As she speaks a heavy gust of wind whips through the tunnel and inflates the sails more fully. The rigging strains momentarily, the crew responds and the ship picks up speed. Your make-shift crew seems like they just might be able to do this.

In its acceleration, the ship sails by another pair of huge open drain pipes high up on both sides of the tunnel. Sewer waste spews from them into the sea water of the tunnel.

Wholly focused on learning how to play ‘Gem Grab’, Admiral nearly jumps out of his skin when the woman calls out to him. He hastily scrambles to his feet, embarrassed at having been caught goofing off while everyone else is working. He clears his throat and tries to smooth his puffed-up fur. "Right! Of course. Well, that’s excellent news. Between the favourable winds and your navigational abilities, I’m sure we’ll reach the harbour in no time at all," he says, encouragingly.

"Jerky?..." Skeev offers you between a round of dice, as he pulls some out of his pouch and contentedly gnaws into a piece.

...

"It's Briya, Captain." says the woman with a smirk in response to your words of encouragement. "Yes, I'm sure we will," she playfully assures as she adjusts her tiller and motions to the other tiller operator to adjust accordingly.

...

Taresh appears to be occupied with meditating on deck out of the way of the crew.Admiral--Current HP: 27, Temp HP: 0, Spell Slots: 2/2, PP: 1/3, Pact Tally: 27/400

"Admiral," Admiral introduces himself to the woman at the tiller with a mock bow. "I’ll leave you to it then, Briya."

While Briya guides the ship down the tunnel, Admiral spends an hour happily occupied playing dice with Skeev and snacking on jerky. He practices with his new shortsword a little too, familiarizing himself with the balance and heft of the weapon so that he might better utilize it in combat.

"Oh, I know." she playfully replies, "Thank you again, Captain Admiral of the Whisker."

...

When you finally break from dice play with Skeev (you played for a half-hour or so), you spend time familiarizing yourself with your new shortsword. As you do, you are sure that the item possesses magical qualities that deliver accurate blows or deftly parry oncoming attacks. You focus on that, trying to understand how to connect to its power. You soon become fully lost in the activity of swinging it, parrying imagined attacks, and testing its balance and swiftness. Engrossed in the weapon, an hour goes by without you realizing it. Toward the end of that time you begin to feel you can command the power within the blade. In your hand it can enhance your ability to deliver a deadly blow and/or it can protect you from a death dealing blow. You now know this to be The Defender Shortsword.

Lost in your focused attuning, exclamations from the crew followed by trashing of the boat suddenly pull your attention away from the blade and back to the deck of the ship.

"Steady! Steady! Hold!" Briya shouts at the other tiller operator.

You quickly size the situation. The sea tunnel is forking again, and this time large waves from the in-coming tide are pushing the boat toward the tunnel wall and also forcing it toward the tunnel connection that would send the ship away from the harbor.

"Lower the aft sails!" yells Briya over the sound of crashing waves and heavy wind.

Absorbed in an imaginary battle, Admiral doesn’t notice anything’s amiss until he almost loses his balance when the ship rocks suddenly under his feet. He catches himself on one of the masts and looks around, quickly taking in the situation. "Drop the portside anchor!" he shouts, gesturing with his sword. "We’re going to club haul over to the lefthand tunnel and then we’ll just have to tack upwind the rest of the way."

Your shaken crew, reacts quickly to your orders, relieved by the sound of your plan and its potential to regain control of the ship.

The small ship initially pitches and rolls in the relentless turbulent waters, heavy winds howl, pushing it perilously closer to the tunnel walls and off course toward the opposite fork. Your make-shift crew of once-prisoners who only hours earlier had been in chains and despair, appears terror-stricken.

But your voice cuts through the wind and crashing waves; you bellow orders, and your resolve ignites hope in them. They become encouraged and determined not to squander the freedom you have granted them. They enact your words with desperate tenacity, dropping the anchor as a pivot point to sharply swing the ship around to the left and then following your commands to tack upwind the rest of the way. Through your orders, the ship soon is under control and navigating the left tunnel fork. The tide still rushes in and the boat continues to rock on it. But the worst is behind you and the sails are full, pulling the ship steadily forward.

Briya sighs and wipes the sweat off her brow with her forearm, "Well done Captain Admiral. If it hadn't been for your command we would have been mercilessly dashed against these tunnel walls."