Golden Age of Fantasy Piracy

Summoned to Adventure
off the coast of Bonewrack Island

“Anders, why are we breaking your speerschleuder?”

“We are not breaking it, liebchen. We are making it more difficult for somebody else to be fixing it. There is a difference.”
Anders hunched under the bow of the half-constructed ballista, in the dimly-lit armory of the Man’s Promise.

The work had already taken too long. Up on deck, the rest of the exploration party could be heard assembling. If Anders and Skabswerth delayed any longer, their absence would be noted, and punished.

“There… ausgezeichnet!”
The gnome stepped back from the pair of ballistae, a look of satisfaction spread across his sweaty face. To the untrained eye, his work area looked exactly as disorganized and cluttered as before.

“So we are going now…to save the ship?”
Skabswerth scuttled in a tight circle, before crouching. Four short jets of steam issued from his release vents.

“Not just the ship,”
Anders secured his pack to the leather harness strapped to his friend’s carapace.
“…there is also a damsel in distress, don’t be forgetting.”
He steadied a boot against a large rivet on rear of the crab’s shell. Then, with a practiced flourish, swung up into a riding position.

“There will be more of those seegoblins, Anders.”
Skabswerth lurched up the steps to the deck, a motion resembling an angry fishwife, pushing through a crowded marketplace.

“Oh I am counting on that, Skabswerth.”
Anders adjusted his wide-brimmed hat to block the sun.
“More grindylows, more adventure, and more FAME!”

Journal Entry 1
The dark musings of Richard Percy Stonehammer III

15th May – Location: in the middle of the fucking ocean

First, let me say that I am no navigator. Maps are something I lived without; England was small and understandable. This is a deficiency at sea. Thus, I have begun to steal looks at the maps of the ship’s sorcerer whenever possible. I am relatively certain that she thinks I enjoy looking at her form, and I have a gnawing, terrifying suspicion that she has a dwarf fetish. My lack of beard is throwing her off for now. Regardless, Peppery allows me into her lab thanks to my alchemical talents (for once, this is not a reference to drugs). I have access to several maps. In time, perhaps I can decipher them, and offer a less fluid location than “water”.

Second, if this journal smells like fish, it is because I have been conscripted, against my will, into a band of what I shall very loosely call pirates. In the future, if any pirate breaks the code I write this journal in, please understand that I have no intention to insult you by comparing you to the crew of the Wormwood, however I found “pigfuckers” to be too unspecific of a term. These men are more like desperate, yet comically incompetent brigands; the first mate is a lunatic, I am relatively sure that one of my gnomish companions is insane, and the least personable member of the crew is also the most valiant. Furthermore, he’s a clownfishman. The captain does not speak to the crew, I was forced to throw a bomb at a half-orc (also dying of jaundice, as even a one-eyed brain-damaged town surgeon could have noticed) during a fight, and the quartermaster is senile. Also, these are the good things I can say about them.

Third, I can sense a rising tension in the crew. There will be blood soon. During my time in the kitchen, while the cook is too drunk to remember anything, I have been working on a few new concoctions. My latest has some rather unorthodox side effects, but it does give me a degree of bite that I did not previously have. Perhaps I can convince the shambling pigfucker idiots that hold me captive I have contracted lycanthropy and escape. I also figured out how to make healing potions that others can use. Haven’t bothered to tell anyone yet. Might keep it to myself.

Oh yes. Chariots.

Mounting tension
Two old friends meeting in the hold...

“We’ve really gotten ourselves into it this time, Skabswerth!”
Anders knelt in the ship’s hold, nervously looking around the stacked barrels that formed his temporary hiding spot.

“I detect concern in your voice, Anders. Are we in danger?”
Skabswerth voice was a metallic baritone, originating somewhere within his shining carapace.

“We most definitely are…”
The gnome paused, straining to hear a potential eavesdropper.
“…and it is WONDERFUL.”

“I am not understanding. Shall I prepare for battle?”
Skabswerth’s clockwork mandibles clicked together eagerly. A thin jet of steam issued from one of the exhaust vents on his left flank.

“Don’t go being silly. We are not in danger this instant. But we are being pirates now, danger is our constant companion.”

“If you are not needing my protection, why have you called me?”

Anders lovingly patted the metal creature.
“I have summoned you, because we are needing to practice. The next time the horn of battle is sounding, we shall be fighting side by side, or above and below rather.”

“I am not understanding, Anders. Is this a riddle?”

“Oh no, Schatzie. I am most serious. Now let me climb onto your back, and be trying not to break anything…”

Marlo's Memories
What a fish thinks

My thoughts upon awakening on the Wormwood were driven by anger. Nobody deserves to be drafted into work, especially for the blasted curs that run this ship. I should have just left, there is no way the humans could have stopped me from leaving once I’m over the side. But I didn’t because while that may save my stinkin’ arse it wouldn’t do a lick of good for the rest of these lubbers. Barely even have their sea-legs and forced to do deckwork. No wonder I made the job of rigger, the rest can barely tie a knot to save their life. It is my calling to be out at sea and it would seem that aboard this ship is where I am needed now. I’ll show the swabs how to work the lines. And I’ll show the curs how to run a boat. Just like Cap’n Hector taught me.

And if my plan goes to hell then Gozreh take us all to the depths.

Pirates log
a fishman, kobold, and some dutchmen walk into a boat

Press ganged out of Port Royal, the heroes found themselves aboard the pirate vessel Wormwood. The ship’s captain Barnabas Harrigan is looking to crew his ship after fleeing Spain. The new shipmates had to quickly adapt to their surroundings because if they didn’t they would likely wind up keel hauled.

Their daily taskmaster is a vicious cur named Master Scourge who closely follows the orders of the ship’s first mate [[Mr. Plugg]] . Scourge quickly took a disliking of the new recruits after they soundly beat some of his lackeys. This has lead to a split between the crew, those loyal to Mr. Plugg and those the heroes have befriended.

Below is an account of the crew and their standing.

Master Scourge hostile
Chonchobar Shortstone hostile Rigger
Jaundiced Jape hostile Swab
Kipper hostile Gunners Mate
Patch Patchsalt hostile Bowsun mate
Maheem hostile Swab
Aretta Bansion hostile Swab/Harlot
Crimson Cogward neutral Swab
Barefoot Samms Toppin neutral Rigger
Giffer Tibbs neutral Swab
“Ratline” Rattsberger neutral Rigger
Tilly Brackett neutral Swab
Shivikah neutral Swab
Fipps Chumlett neutral Swab
Peppery Longfarthing neutral Sailing Master
Barnabas Harrigan unfriendly Captain
Riaris Krine unfriendly Master Gunner
Habbly Quarne,Stitchman unfriendly Surgeon, Carpenter
“Caulky” Tarroon neutral Cabin Girl
Owlbear Hartshorn friendly Swab
Cut-Throat Grok friendly Quartermaser
Rosie Cusswell friendly Swab
“Badger” Medlar friendly Swab
Jack Scrimshaw friendly Swab
Slippery Syl Lonegan friendly Rigger
Sandara Quinn friendly Swab


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