|
Post by Ringulf on Jul 4, 2013 16:17:03 GMT -5
The Percheron bore down on the small Iberian barque, They were two days out of Marshwood and the small ship and it's crew seem to be close hauled for Gaulica. The Percheron was rigged for silence and swooped in out of the night so quickly that the little ship had no chance at all. A flaming arrow shot up to the top course of sail and stuck very close to the upper crosstree. The light but steady breeze fanned the flames.
"That'll do archers!" yelled a large man in a red and black longcoat with a large ribbon tied beard.
"Ahoy on the vessel! It seems your ship is ablaze, and the chances of it going out will be slim to none (if we have anything to do about it)(wink)" at this the crew chuckled.
"I reccomend you make ready to abandon your vessel and seek refuge upon this ship, I welcome you in the name of the Black Prince, take what you wish, leave your weapons behind, We have all we need here. We will brook no troublemakers, they will swim, but we will feed and medicate compliance. Any of you sick? Well we have your tonic right here, step aboard and escape the plague!"
"A very pursuasive speech Capn." the first mate chuckled as the grapples were flung and bit on the windward rail.
"Thanks it gets easier after the first hundred times! Haaaahahaha! Come aboard my beauties, make haste, make haste, those fires won't allow us to be this close for long, step lively!
"After this lot we'll be bout full again, lets cut away and head for home." the Captain said to the Helmsman.
"Aye Captain!"
|
|
|
Post by Brandwyn on Jun 11, 2014 16:29:04 GMT -5
Tony towed The Swan back to Gallica, keeping the boy aboard the grave ship because his crew would mutiny if he brought the kid over to the Razor. He sent over four brave men that volunteered to bury the dead at sea. The only reason they volunteered was for the promise they could keep the valuables they found on the deadand 10 gold galleons each from Tony.
They were able to clear all the bodies from the ship, keeping their faces covered with cloths soaked in whisky and wearing gloves the entire time. After they had a brief ceremony to honor the dead and send their souls on, the men were able to set the sail to rights and get the ship underway without being towed by the Razor. As long as a storm didn't come up the four, with the help of the young lad, could just barely handle the ship - if none of them slept.
They put in to La Rivage in Gallica and Tony reported the salvage to the Harbor Master, listing Jonathan Grisby from Norgate as the sole survivor and therefore principle salvage right with Tony claiming 40% as his rescuer and for actually bringing the derelict ship to port. Jonathan didn't challenge it, even though he knew he could have gotten a higher percentage. He was happy to be on dry land again and, having been checked out by the healers, declared well.
"I don't want a ship," Jonathan told Tony and Mort. "I started out here with my family to escape the plague. I have nowhere to go, but I am not fond of the sea." He said with a shudder while looking at the ship he now owned, the ship in which he had lost his entire family. "You can use it, she's part yours. Just send me 60% of what you earn with her."
Tony chuckled and rubbed his jaw, "more like 30%, Lad." Jonathan started to protest and Tony held up his hand to forestall him. "The crew that sails her has to be paid and they get a percentage of the earnings as well. Plus there's upkeep to consider. She is going to need some repairs and a thorough cleaning before anyone will be willing to sail on her," he explained. "So though you may own 60% of her, you aren't going to get that much in profit. Besides, I am not sure I want another ship. It's a lot of responsibility and I'd need a captain I could trust wouldn't back stab me when he got the chance." He glanced at Mortimer, his first choice for taking over as Captain of the Swan.
"We could just sell her and split the money," Jonathan suggested. "Maybe I could find a workshop here with the money and start my own business."
Tony marvelled that a boy his age could even consider going it alone, not that he had much choice. Tony thought for a moment, glancing from the ship to the boy and then to the town. He looked to Mortimer, his First Mate.
Mort shrugged, "Can't say I'd turn down a captaincy, but it'll be hard to get a crew to sign on. They'll think she's cursed."
"Which will also make it hard for us to sell her, especially here where everyone knows she's a plague ship." Well, we don't have to decide this minute he thought. "Why don't we put her in the docks for repairs. I'll pay the fees for now and then we can decide what to do with her later after the work is done."
Jonathan nodded. "That sounds just fine to me, Sir." He looked like he might start crying as he stared at the strange and noisy Gallican city.
Tony glanced at Mort, "Don't you have a craftsman friend here in La Rivage?" Mort nodded. "Do you think he would be taking on apprentices?"
Mort cocked his head to one side and studied the boy. "He seems to be just about the right age for that, but Ollie won't take on just anyone. They have to have some skill with clay," Mortimer answered. "What are your feelings on learning a trade, Jonathan?"
The boy looked up at them, confused. "You mean learn pottery? Be an apprentice?" he asked increduously. He'd never considered that before. "I don't know anything about clay," he mumbled, his brief hope crushed with the reality of his situation. Why would a potter take him on as an apprentice?
"Well, let's go see Ollie and maybe he'll give you a go at the clay and see if you have it in you," Mortimer suggested. Jonathan nodded and Tony watched them wind their way down the pier and out of view. Meanwhile he set about making the arrangements for The Swan to be put in drydock for the next couple of months and get a complete overhaul.
Above, on the deck of The Razor, Arrow and Orrick watched the Captain and his first mate decide the fate of the plague kid. Arrow was happy the boy wasn't going to be accepted as crew and brought on board the ship. But he chafed at the delay in reaching Araluen. They were now going to be at least three days behind schedule.
"Not that we really have a schedule," reminded Orrick. "Our task is still before us no matter when we get to Araluen."
"I don't care!" snapped Arrow. "This has all been a big waste of time. I have half a mind to book passage on some other ship. We are in a major port afterall."
Orrick nodded, considering the matter, "but then you'd have to pay for us out of your own pocket," he reminded Arrrow. "At least this one's paid for by The Clan."
Arrow scowled at his large companion and had to admit he was right. "You've got a point, more's the pity. At least when we get back we can report on what an oaf this Tony guy is and suggest the commendant doesn't use him anymore."
"I suppose we can, if we get back." Orrick replied.
|
|
|
Post by Brandwyn on May 9, 2016 21:37:02 GMT -5
Tony and Mortimer left the boy in the care of his friend Ollie the Potter and resupplied The Razor and were soon on their way across the straights to Araluen. They had essentially lost two full days and Tony let the sheets out to take full advantage of the wind, pushing his ship as fast as the wind would take her with Araluen colors flying on the mast.
He watched the two Grisly recruits when they were up on the deck. So far they hadn't made any specific trouble, but the white-haired lad watched everyone, especially those watching him. He was sullen yet crafty and Tony could see he resented the close scrutiny.
Tony turned back around and leaned on the rail in the foredeck where Ulrich was accustomed to standing guard. “I don’t like that boy,” grumbled Tony.
“I think the feeling is mutual,” Ulrich replied calmly. “He’s about to start snooping down below during the night, I fear.” Ulrich was leaning against the rail with his elbows resting on it and chewing on a sprig of mint. He had the easy grace of a well-seasoned fighter and the agility of a sailor, but he wasn’t a seaman. The fact he was bristling in a variety of weapons and that he rarely lifted a finger to do any swabby work made it obvious he was here for security purposes.
“Truly? What makes you think so?” Tony scanned the horizon with his glass. They should be within sight of Marshwood soon. He hadn’t forgotten about that ship that stumbled upon them when they’d salvaged the Swan. He still had a hard time believing their intentions were so honorable.
“He is trying to make us think he is not up to something,” Ulrich replied cryptically and Tony raised an eyebrow at him. Ulrich shrugged, “gut feeling”
Tony nodded. He trusted Ulrich’s ‘gut feelings’. “Shall we give him just enough rope to hang himself?” The main sail fluttered and Tony looked at the pennants high above. The smell on the air had a hint of land in it. “Time to turn and run parallel to the coast, I don’t want to get to close to Marshwood just yet.” He signaled the helmsman to fall off and make a slight turn towards the southeast. The ship’s speed dropped slightly and the sails billowed as they were adjusted to the new direction. Then they picked up again as the sails re-filled with the wind off their beam now.
“Could be dangerous. The boy is smart,” Ulrich answered. “What if he succeeds in ferreting out some of your secrets? You prepared to keep your secrets?”
“Hhmmmppfff.” Grunted Tony. “Maybe I will double the watch on him during the night.”
Ulrich shrugged again. He didn’t really care; he just did as the Cap’n told him. He got fed each day, had a place to sleep and frequently got to knock a few heads around. It was a good life.
“Oi! Cap’n!” came a cry from portside watch. “We got debris here.”
“What kind?” Tony called back as he and Ulrich moved to the port side and stared over the rail.
“Looks like a ship set ablaze went down,” the sailor called back. Then Tony could make out bits of burnt wood floating by. He got an uneasy feeling in the pit of his stomach.
“Better make sure the lads are armed and put them on thirds rotation for sleeping tonight.” Tony scanned the horizon again. With the sun setting in about two hours, it would be prime time for a strike on their ship. He slid down the foredeck ladder and strode across the deck to find Mortimer and Lee. He found them below decks in the officer’s quarters. “Prepare the lads, we might have company.” Tony ordered and explained about the debris. “That helpful Celtican ship is probably still out here someplace. I don’t want her catching us with our sails down.”
Sunset usually brought a calm to the wind which then picked up again after full dark, if they were lucky. “Three shifts tonight. I want two-thirds on deck armed all night.”
“Ai Ai Sir,” Mortimer saluted and scrambled down to the crew quarters to give the orders. Tony and Lee went back on deck and started scanning the horizon in all directions. “Get up there and let the Nest know to keep a sharp eye out. She’ll probably come at us out of the sunset if she is a ‘coming.”
Now all they could do was wait and hope his gut feeling was wrong.
|
|