Of Shanties, Plunder and a Bottle o' Rum [Pirate Quest]

The coppery tang of blood hung in the air, swirling and mixing with the smoke of small fires yet to be put out. You sheathed your blade as you turned away from the brave, yet terminally foolish captain of the merchant ship, tapping the hilt as you did so. You made a mental note to perform some maintenance that evening - it had served you well from the moment you had it acquired it:

[][Weapon] Off the captain of the Altrisian sloop HMS Lance, your first successful hunt. A fine sabre, with a handle of black leather inlaid with gold thread alongside a polished steel knuckle guard and cross guard beneath the gentle curve of the single-edged blade of 75 centimetres. You'd ceded the captain's share of the ship for it and it was worth every penny.

[][Weapon] A simple longsword that you'd kept through thick and thin when you found it in a moment of true necessity. It'd saved your life from those robbers and you'd kept it with you out of sentimentality ever since. The two-handed blade of one metre gave you extra reach than most single-handed blades, a trait you found worth giving up said lighter one-hand blades for.

[][Weapon] A set of twin daggers of forty centimetres each. Forged by your own hands when you had to spend some time as a smithy's apprentice, the X-shaped cross-guard and skull-like pommels of the blades had always amused you. The rippled blade of one was a technique you'd picked up your master - he called it a Kris - while the other had a simple straight blade gently tapered to a point.

Stepping down from the partially destroyed bridge, you beckoned over your bo'sun.

"Bo'sun! What's the find in the cargo hold? And what can we be salvaging from the ship before we send her to the bottom?"

"Good, Cap'n. Much salvage, better plunder. Need t'see yerself, sir."

You took a moment to parse your boatswain's words. Short on words he may be, but he had a mind like a Cawshorn's jaws when it came to logistics, above and beyond his single-minded devotion to his role. The oldest member of your crew, you were pretty sure he'd forgotten his own name with how long he'd been addressed as Bos'un.

Not that age stopped his ability to discipline recalcitrant crew members one whit. You'd personally watched the man spank four men simultaneously unarmed with one hand tied behind his back until they were a ungainly lump of flesh and bruises. He'd then spat on them, called them a foolish lot of whippersnappers, then went back to his provisions logbook and continued his work.

(Crew discipline improved significantly.)

Following him into the depths of the galleon, you looked at the remainder of the crew tied up on deck, disarmed and in various states of distress. You'd have to deal with them once all of the cargo was moved over onto the Barracuda.

"What have you got for me, then?"


"Plenty o' normal provisions, cloth, shot, spare wood and suchlike. Six undamaged cannon, bigger bore'n current. Small amount luxury food and drink - should crack 'em open."

Oh, that was nice. You could retrofit three each on the broadsides of your ship for extra oomph, though having two different bore sizes might be messy in pitched combat. Or you could sell them on for a tidy profit. The luxury food was a nice extra as well - always good to keep morale up with a hearty dinner for everyone than just continuous salted tack and hard bread.

"All pleasing to hear, Bo'sun, but not seeing what needed my personal touch."

"Remaining cargo spices and silks, sir. Nutmeg, cinnamon, beet and cane sugar mostly, while silks in blue and white, single bolt of purple."

You blink. Those are rare goods, particularly the latter bolt of silk. A real stroke of good fortune, though difficult to convert into coin to spend. Most of the closer free ports wouldn't have merchants that could buy those at fair price, while the larger ones are some time away on the outskirts of the Thousand Needles.

You nearly missed the last words in your musing.

"One final large crate, heavy security. Silver coins, crew found false bottom with gold bars."

Ah. This is beginning to make more sense with why he called you. The Orstein fleet sometimes gave trusted captains an amount of discretionary funds to acquire goods on the spot, if they can't be taken by force. Although why it's in the hold and not the captain's quarters is certainly odd.

"Excellent. Make note of the precise quantity, then have it taken to my cabin. Load the rest of the spices and silks into the hold, as well as the salvage."

"Cap'n." Gruff as always.


Returning to the weather deck of the merchant ship, you're greeted with the remaining crew, still bound to the main mast, of the vessel. You look over the crew before coming to a decision, having thought about it while getting the guided tour by your bo'sun.

[][Prisoners] Recruit. You've not lost anyone while seizing this ship, but you'd still like to recruit. One or two of them have caught your eye, but you won't begrudge any wanting to get out of the awful conditions enlisted are put under in the name of profit.

[][Prisoners] Don't recruit. You don't trust them not to rebel when underway, particularly with this cargo. You're not taking any risks of them sabotaging the ship.

In either case, you'll have some remainder left to deal with.

[][Remainder] Send them on their way with a dinghy, provisions and a map. They might make it to a nearby island, or they might die, but you'll give them a good chance.

[][Remainder] Send them on their way with a dinghy, but no provisions or map. You might let them live, but you're not that kind as to help them further.

[][Remainder] Execute the lot of them. You'll not have any survivors telling of your actions.

With that finished, you return to your ship with your crew. You laugh as the crew starts up a rousing chant of "Speech! Speech! Speech!"

You nimbly hop to the rigging stretched over your sails and climb up part of the way for a good vantage point and some elevation.

"Lasses and mates! Did I not say we'd be dining well tonight?!"

Loud, booming shouts of acclaim and 'ayes' fill the air with your words.

"Let it not be said I'm a man of me word. Bo'sun! Fetch the cook, the good food and the caskets of rum and wine we were so generously given today. Tomorrow, we be back to the mast. Tonight - eat, drink, sing, and dance to your hearts' content!"

You finish your declaration with a bit of showmanship, drawing your flintlock and firing it into the air behind you.

And as you watch the crew descend into dubiously controlled chaos, you jump right in and have at it.

The rest of the night descends into a jagged stream of flashes and memory, with carousing laughter and music, fresh food cooked and shared amongst splintering caskets of rum, a stagger to your cabin and finally a faceplant into your hammock.

You slowly awaken with a pounding hangover as the first rays of light shine into the cabin, swearing to lay off the rum next time as you stumble over to the wardrobe after dunking your head in a bucket of water.

(You said that the last time, too.)

Dressing, you exit and find Ariane Sorensen and James Aglen awaiting you at the helm.

"Good, you're awake. Mister Aglen, remind me where we can dock to offload our newfound wealth?"

"Yes, cap'n. We could:

[][Destination] Head back to Freewind Cove. It's a small port and we'd definitely have to sell at a lower price, but it's also the closest port, however, which makes it much less likely to encounter anyone else. (0 encounter rolls - d20. Results variable.)

[][Destination] Make way to Sharktooth Bay. It's further than Freewind, but better prices there as well. (1 encounter roll.)

[][Destination] Or we could head to the Thousand's Waypoint. A port and town on the easternmost isle of the Thousand Needles, a sprawling archipelago of islands numbering almost 1,000 unique landmasses across a truly massive area. Best prices for goods and the latest gossip, but more chances to encounter other ships. (2 encounter rolls.)

You inform them of your decision, then step to the helm.

The lovely smooth wood feels wonderful in your hands as you watch your ship knife through the waters to your destination.


Second part of the prologue. One or two more updates, depending on what's chosen. Name votes are still open as well.

You're currently midway between the centre and the eastern edge of the Thousand Needles, for reference.

As always, comments and feedback encouraged! I was blown away by the number of voters I got.