Krynt’s Logbook – Part 3

Krynt’s Log – Part 3 (September 27, 2014)

Day 10 cont. (Gozran 14, 4712)

Scourge catches me dumping my rum again. That earns me another three extra tankards, plus a place of honor on some future special assignment. That evening, Conchobar sings a song for Rosie and shows almost more talent than she does with her fiddle. Thanks to the effects of the rum, I keep the crew entertained. At the same time, though, I hate Scourge’s guts. Now would be the perfect moment to stick a dagger in his back. Thank Besmara I can’t convince Gush that this is a sensible idea, and he bundles me belowdecks into my hammock.

Day 11 (Gozran 15, 4712)

VanZan’s flea bite has become infected and hurts. Unfortunately, Mr. Stitch can’t help him without 250 gold sails, so the follower of the waves keeps bearing it like a proper crow. While on lookout duty, I once again fail to have a civilized conversation with Maheem. That grouch is simply beyond help. All the more reason to concentrate on keeping watch, and my razor-sharp eye soon spots that we’re approaching the coast. But which one? Unfortunately, my knowledge of geography ends at Port Peril’s harbor wall. Gush catches a few rats and hands them over to VanZan on the condition that he doesn’t store them right in his hammock. While working as rat catcher, Gush has a little look around the officers’ cabin but finds nothing of note.

That afternoon, I also find out what special assignment I earned myself the night before. Captain Harrigan has a hankering for crab today, and I’ve been chosen to put together a capable crabbing crew to satisfy his appetite with a catch from a reef 12 miles off the coast. Together with Gush, VanZan, and Mael, I swim out to a few little rocks, where we’re surprised by Reefclaws. The meter-long eel-and-crab monsters give Gush hell and pull him off the rock. But VanZan cooks them with fire from his fingertips, and I turn them into crab-on-a-stick with my daggers. Afterward, not only Mr. Scourge but the captain himself praises us for the delicious meal we’ve provided for the whole Wormwood. Never thought those ugly critters would taste so good. Then again, maybe that’s all thanks to Ambrose’s cooking. As a reward, we get all our gear back. At last I can sleep in my own hammock again. It’s slowly getting cozy aboard the Wormwood.

That evening, I once again prove that nobody outdoes me at shipboard contests and utterly humiliate Jaundiced Jape at Hog Lob. The mute half-orc probably won’t be joining my circle of friends anytime soon, either.

Day 12 (Gozran 16, 4712)

A beautiful day aboard the Wormwood in the middle of the Fever Sea.

Day 13 (Gozran 17, 4712)

While making repairs in the rigging, my perfectly friendly attempts to chat with Tam Tate fall on stony ground. That tunnel rat Narwhale is and always will be an asshole. We do, however, arrange an arm-wrestling match, where I give the dwarf an impressive demonstration of who swings the bigger forge hammer. Unfortunately, VanZan gets the lash that evening for illegally dumping his rum.

Day 14 (Gozran 18, 4712)

Today we finally get our long-overdue boarding practice under Master Gunner Riaris Krine, who’s no shrinking violet and makes her orders crystal clear and loud enough for everyone to hear. We new hands have to board the Wormwood from an anchored ship’s boat while being pelted with a cannonade of garbage. I show the greenhorns how to board a ship and am the first back on deck. I show particular skill at dodging bottles, old fish, and burned-out torches. Even though fat Fipps does get one chance to gloat that he’s “sunk the Negro,”^* Gush still finishes second. That tub of lard is in for a surprise when he’s skewered between “the Negro’s” trident and my daggers. Rosie and Crimson Cogward make it, too. VanZan and Mael can soon look forward to the mast and 6 lashes as a reward for their incompetence. I, on the other hand, have the dubious honor of leading a boarding party in our next ship battle.

Later, Mael shows some talent during arcane training under Sailing Master Peppery Longfarthing and casts a fog cloud over the Wormwood. At least the cook’s mate is good for something.

That evening, Captain Harrigan parades Dungrim before the crew. Thanks to the captain’s silver tongue, he soon has the crew riled up against the dwarf. He exposes VanZan and Tan as the dwarf’s supporters and claims they’ve been feeding him in the bilge for 14 days. An outrageous accusation. After all, Dungrim is the one who cost the Wormwood’s crew—all of us—a prize we’d fought and bled for. The two are forced to torture him by stretching his neck on the gallows and flogging him with the cat-o’-nine-tails. Tan refuses at first, which earns him a place in the Sweatbox the next day. I expect the situation to escalate and get ready to toss Aretta overboard as a distraction. But when Tan finally complies, I scrap my brilliant plan.

Day 15 (Gozran 19, 4712)

Tantakatan enjoys the warmth of the Sweatbox even without Sea Shanties. I’m on duty alone at the mainsail. That afternoon, a ship is sighted ahead. Later, it turns out she’s lost her mast and is just drifting in the water.

Day 16 (Gozran 20, 4712)

At dawn, we row over in two ship’s boats from a safe distance of a mile. In the second boat are Mr. Plugg, Mrs. Longfarthing, Aretta, Sly, and Tam, who leave us to do the work like cowards and make no effort to win the rowing race Tan starts. The captain’s hunch is confirmed—the ship is the Emperor of the Sea, a missing merchant caravel belonging to the Aspis Consortium. We smell easy pickings and climb on deck. All that awaits us there, though, are Hissing Centipedes and savage natives, with spiders, giant flies, and fat maggots belowdecks gorging on the dead crew. A tactical battle breaks out belowdecks, which we win thanks in part to Mael’s willingness to sacrifice himself. A strange voodoo savage, speaking through a man sacrificed at the mast and artfully killed, wants to drink our blood after we refuse to tell him why the mountain speaks to us. By the mountain, he seems to mean Sennabar. Could she be one of the great Smoker’s three oracles? The voodoo man and his minions die in a hail of fists, quarterstaves, and daggers. Or was it not the savage speaking through the dead man after all? "I am the Blood Queen!" said the voice from the dead man.

^* Fipps’s wording is deliberately racist. In Pathfinder terms, Fipps has an evil alignment. His racism belongs to the character in our game world, not to our own views.