Never Shall We Die (Nega-Quest)
Never Shall We Die
Davy Jones, the Pirate King and Lord of the North Atlantic
Ancillaries present: Maccus, Jimmy Legs
Sinbad the Sailor, the Pirate Lord of the Mediterranean
Ancillaries present: Marina, Kale.
Captain James Hook, the Pirate Lord of the South Atlantic
Ancillaries present: Smee, Starkey
Captain Nemo, the Pirate Lord of the Indian Ocean
Ancillaries present: Ishmael, Varian
Long John Silver, the Pirate Lord of the Caribbean
Ancillaries present: Smollet, Big Fat Ugly Bug-Faced Baby-Eating O'Brian
Maui, Pirate Lord of the South Pacific
Ancillaries present: Chief Tui, Chief Kakamora
Blackbeard, Pirate Lord of the North Pacific
Ancillaries present: Scrum, Angelica
Drago Bludvist, Pirate Lord of the Arctic Ocean
Ancillaries present: Chaghatai Khan, Johann.
Meeting is held at Shipwreck Cove.
1d18: 9! Varian runs into O'Brian!
Brethren Court: Recovery roll, 1d100+8: 99! Great success!
Varian: Find your courage! 1d100+5: 43!
1d18: 7! Varian meets James Hook! Diplomacy contest:
Hook: 1d100+15: 77!
Varian: 1d100+8: 26!
Nemo interrupt! 1d100+25: 64!
Ancillaries present: Maccus, Jimmy Legs
Sinbad the Sailor, the Pirate Lord of the Mediterranean
Ancillaries present: Marina, Kale.
Captain James Hook, the Pirate Lord of the South Atlantic
Ancillaries present: Smee, Starkey
Captain Nemo, the Pirate Lord of the Indian Ocean
Ancillaries present: Ishmael, Varian
Long John Silver, the Pirate Lord of the Caribbean
Ancillaries present: Smollet, Big Fat Ugly Bug-Faced Baby-Eating O'Brian
Maui, Pirate Lord of the South Pacific
Ancillaries present: Chief Tui, Chief Kakamora
Blackbeard, Pirate Lord of the North Pacific
Ancillaries present: Scrum, Angelica
Drago Bludvist, Pirate Lord of the Arctic Ocean
Ancillaries present: Chaghatai Khan, Johann.
Meeting is held at Shipwreck Cove.
1d18: 9! Varian runs into O'Brian!
Brethren Court: Recovery roll, 1d100+8: 99! Great success!
Varian: Find your courage! 1d100+5: 43!
1d18: 7! Varian meets James Hook! Diplomacy contest:
Hook: 1d100+15: 77!
Varian: 1d100+8: 26!
Nemo interrupt! 1d100+25: 64!
"How does it stay up?!?" Varian gasped, half-awed, half-incredulous as he cranked his head up to take in the spectacle that was Shipwreck Cove.
The ancient capital of the Pirate Lords, it was where Davy Jones had called for the convention of the Sixth Brethren Court - and the Fourth, and the Fifth. The Fourth had seen the deaths of the previous Pirate Lords, as Davy Jones felt they had let him down. The Fifth had seen the Court established in its current form. And this one? It would see a new member joining their ranks.
Drago Bludvist, Pirate Lord of the Arctic Ocean, had accepted Davy Jones' challenge to reclaim Kuala's Piece of Eight from the East Indian Trading Company, and had done it in style. Well, if overwhelming force counted as style. Varian had to admit that it had its place when done right, and a massive ice-breathing water dragon had to count, for coolness points if nothing else.
Captain Nemo and his First Mate (when Varian had asked his name, his reply had been "Call me Ishmael") strode confidently on the ancient wooden planks of the dock where the Nautilus had pulled up. The captain's voice was amused when he replied, "A combination of cunning craftsmanship and sheer, bloody-minded luck, if I were to make a guess."
"You have no idea either, don't you." It wasn't a question.
Nemo smiled slightly. "No, no I don't. By all rights, this pile of shipwrecks should have collapsed decades ago." The warren of derelicts was a right and proper maze; rumor had it that every year saw at least one ship added to the pile as they failed to navigate the Devil's Throat, the passage leading to the interior of the extinct volcano that served as Shipwreck Island. "This whole place is an affront to any sense of order and engineering."
"Or a subversion, or a miracle. Don't be too quick to dismiss it, Nemo my boy." Varian whipped around to see a black-haired man of middling height stumping his way towards them on a crutch - his right leg was missing at the knee.
Nemo didn't say anything, but his posture spoke of irritation. "Captain Silver. How fortuitous to see that you have survived the past year." He inclined his head towards a small figure walking behind him. "First Mate Smollett. A pleasure to see you."
A piping voice answered him. "Hi-ho, Captain Nemo! How fares the Nautilus?"
Nemo smiled. "It fares well, thank you for asking. You've met my own First Mate, Ishmael. And this is," he turned to gesture at a gaping Varian "Varian, my newest crewmember and assistant engineer."
Varian finally found his voice. "You're a...you're a talking frog. You're a frog. And you're talking."
"And I can walk and hop too! And shake hands, dance, and do other tricks," the walking, talking felt frog said cheerfully, but with an edge to it. "What brings a boy to Shipwreck Cove?"
"The same as the rest of us," Nemo answered for him. "I shall see you inside, Captain Silver, Mate Smollett." As the two walked away, Nemo said in a lower tone, "Mind your tone, lad. The last man to disrespect Smollett still bears the scars from it. He's quite the swordsman."
"Sorry, sir," Varian replied. "Caught me off guard, that's all."
"Best prepare yourself," Nemo told him grimly. "You'll see stranger things yet here at Shipwreck City." He sighed. "The fish people take some getting used to."
"Fish...people?"
"Fish people." With that, Nemo followed after Silver and Smollett.
"Ooohhh-kay," Varian let out a quick breath. "Pull yourself together, Varian!" He turned to follow after Captain Nemo - and promptly bumped into someone.
"Oh! I'm sorry, sir-" Then Varian looked up into a very fine set of cleavage, and above it a black-haired woman's face glaring down at him. "Ack!"
"Hello," the woman replied in a voice that threatened to shake the very deck beneath Varian's feet. "Hands off."
Varian's eyes went as wide as saucers. "I'm so sorry!" he yelped as he held up his hands in a non-threatening manner. "I didn't see you there, honest!"
The woman kept her glare, but gradually relaxed. When she spoke again, it was in a rather pleasant alto. "'Twas an accident, then. In that case, I forgive you. Mind your surroundings, child. Had you done that to Jones or Bludvist, your head would have been as good as gone."
Varian grinned sheepishly. "I'll...keep that in mind. I'm sorry, my name is Varian, I'm here with Captain Nemo. Who are you?"
She smiled. "Big Fat Ugly Bug-Faced Baby-Eating O'Brian, here with Captain Silver. But you can call me O'Brian."
"...oh my…"
Well, at least this wouldn't be boring.
"How did you do that with your voice?"
"This?" O'Brian answered.
"Yes, that," Varian answered, a bit rattled.
"A little trick of the diaphragm," O'Brian said. She started walking in the same direction as Nemo and Silver, and gestured to him to follow her. "Works wonders in frightening off men with grabby hands." She glanced at him. "You remind me of Hawkins. He's a skittish little thing too."
~~~
Following O'Brian into the chamber where the Pirate Lords would meet, Varian stopped in his tracks as he took in the wildly varied crowd crammed into the room. Most of the kings had already taken their places around the table. A rough map of the world had been carved into the surface, with the Atlantic at the head of the table and the Pacific at the foot.
Facing each other just below the head were Silver and Sinbad, two bearded rogues and kings of opposite seas - the Caribbean and the Mediterranean, respectively. Flanking Silver were O'Brian and the frog - er, Smollett; with Sinbad were a beautiful brown-haired woman and a massive dark-skinned man who had seemingly come to the conclusion that shirts were so last season. Varian smiled as he recognized Marina and Kale, and Sinbad's first mate shot back a grin of his own.
To the right of Silver was a red-garbed dandy with a hook replacing his left hand - the famous James Hook, Pirate Lord of the Southern Atlantic. Just as Nemo ruled the depths, so Hook reigned over the skies in his flying ship The Jolly Roger. Varian had spotted it moored to the lip of the volcano; Hook himself had flown down to the deck, trailing motes of light behind him. He was accompanied by his First Mate Smee and Boatswain Starkey. And next to Hook was Captain Nemo, Lord of the Indian Ocean. Varian crept up and took his place by his Captain's side, to his left; Ishmael stood on his right.
To Nemo's right was the Pirate Lord of the South Pacific, the giant man known only as Maui. Each arm was approximately the size of Varian's torso, and tattoos writhed over his body. One tattoo was literally animated, and was currently pulling faces at the tiny coconut-wearing...something on Maui's left, something that Nemo had told Varian was a Kakamora. On Maui's right was a tall and solemn man, a dusky-skinned Pacific Islander known only as Tui. His eyes bore the signs of a deep grief, but Varian had not the temerity to ask of him what he had lost. Varian suspected he knew, though; he saw a similar look in his own eyes in his bathroom mirror every morning, as he thought of his imprisoned father. Maui had pulled up on a massive barge that held a castle atop it, crewed by humans and kakamora alike, and taken a rowboat into the Cove as his flagship would never have fit through the Devil's Throat.
Across the table from Maui was the smoldering presence of Edward Teach, the infamous Blackbeard himself. Literally smoldering; slow-burning matches had been braided into his beard, and smoke wafted up around his face as bloodshot eyes seemingly stared straight into Varian's very soul. With a shudder, he broke the man's gaze and looked over his own companions - a beautiful Spanish woman and a comparatively-mundane man. He'd caught their names as Angelica and Scrum, respectively. And as Blackbeard laid a surprisingly gentle hand on her shoulder, something told Varian that she wasn't there as the man's lover. More like a...daughter?
To Blackbeard's right was the tallest man in the room - well, at least he and Maui were providing some serious competition to each other. Nearing seven feet in height was the massive frame of Drago Bludvist. A scaled cloak was draped over his shoulders and completely hid his left arm, and a billhook about as long as he was tall was clutched in his right hand. He was accompanied by the grim-faced Chaghatai Khan and a slight-framed man with a bushy brown beard who only went by the name Johann.
Seven Pirate Lords. But one was missing.
"Enough of this waiting! Where is Jones!" shouted Sinbad. "He's the one who summoned us in the first place, the least he could do is show up to his own shindig on time!"
"Take care not to invoke that name too lightly," came a clipped voice in a Welsh accent from the shadows near the back - a corner that Varian would have sworn on his last alembic had been empty just moments before.
"Speak of the Devil, and he shall appear." With a clip-thud, clip-thud, the tall form of Davy Jones strode into the light, and Varian nearly lost control of his bladder.
Davy Jones, Pirate Lord of the Northern Atlantic, was terrifying, in a way that nothing had ever invoked in him. Not even Frollo's inquisitors - not even the Mirror Queen herself! - had invoked such a sense of creeping dread, of wrongness, as the monster who had declared himself to be the Pirate King.
His left hand replaced by a lobster's claw, his face a writhing mass of tentacles, his broad frame was concealed by a black oil-cloth duster - something for which Varian was very grateful, as he had no desire whatsoever to see what horrors lay hidden under his clothing. His right leg had been replaced by a peg leg that looked carved from coral, but something told Varian that Jones was not slowed down in the slightest by its loss.
Two fish-men accompanied him - one with the head of a hammerhead shark, and the other with the horrifying face of a stonefish. Varian should know, Nemo had shown him a few during their undersea outings using the Nautilus's diving equipment. "Maccus, Jimmy Legs. Secure the door." With a muted response of "aye, Cap'n," the two crewmembers of the Flying Dutchman strode to the door and closed it, securing the proceedings, then returned to flank their Captain at the head of the table.
Jones stood silently, gazing over the assembled Pirate Lords; they, in return, looked back with expressions varying from a wary respect to a resigned disdain. A tentacle reached into Jones's coat and pulled out a pipe; another struck a match on the table and lit it. After taking a few experimental puffs, Jones broke the silence.
"We come here today in honor of one who has claimed the title of Pirate Lord by force of arms. Drago Bludvist, come forth and be recognized."
Bludvist straightened and turned to Chaghatai Khan, who passed something to him. Drago took it and held it up for all to see. "The piece of eight, once possessed by the Pirate Lord Kuala, has been reclaimed for its rightful owner," Bludvist said in a deep rumble. "I claim the right to the title of Pirate Lord, and assert the Arctic Ocean as my own territory."
Varian craned his neck to try and see it. A pair of broken glasses? That wasn't a piece of eight.
Drago glared at Varian with burning black eyes, and Varian realized to his terror that he had just spoken that thought aloud. Screwing up his courage, and ignoring the horrified Nemo to his side, he spoke louder. "I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to be rude or dispute your claim. It's just that I assumed that a piece of eight would be, you know, an actual piece of eight."
Jones cocked his head as he regarded Varian, who wanted nothing more than to curl up and die under the King's piercing blue eyes. While he managed to keep on his feet, he could feel his hands shaking as he shoved them into his pockets. Jones...chuckled. "Your whelp has nerve, Nemo. Take care he doesn't get his spine ripped out for his impudence, it would be a shame to see one so young go to the Locker so early."
Nemo's hand came on Varian's shoulder, with a grip like iron belying his fear for his young ward. "Apologies, Captain Jones. Young Varian's curiosity sometimes outruns his common sense."
Jones waved a claw at the representatives of the Nautilus. "No harm done. To answer your question, it is a symbol of a Lord's authority, and has been passed down ever since the First Brethren Court. Your own Captain Nemo holds the pewter cup. But back to the man of the hour," he turned back to Drago Bludvist, "is there any man here who dares challenge Captain Bludvist's claim to the title of Pirate Lord?"
No one spoke; everyone present knew how Drago had earned the title, and nobody wanted to run the risk of the man having brought his Bewilderbeast to Shipwreck Island. After a period of silence, Davy Jones nodded. "So mote it be. Captain Teague?"
From a balcony overlooking the proceedings, a man of average height, wearing a long red coat and with hair braided into dreadlocks, stepped through a door and walked down the stairs. Jones continued, "As Keeper of the Code, it is Captain Teague's responsibility to record changes to the roster. Captain, the Code, if you please."
Varian's eyes widened. Jones was being...respectful. Whoever this Teague man was, he had to be important. Teague snapped his fingers; the doors opened, and two men carried in a book wider than Varian was. Bound in leather and secured with a massive metal padlock, the tome reeked of tradition and authority.
Teague pulled out a set of keys on a rusty iron ring and unlocked it; opening the book, he turned to a blank page. He twitched his head in the direction of Drago Bludvist; the giant man took it as a cue to come over to where Teague was. Taking a pen in his massive paw, he scrawled his signature in the book. Once he finished, Teague slammed it shut and resecured it. "A Lord is dead; long live the Pirate Lord," he intoned in a raspy voice.
"Long live the Pirate Lord," the other lords at the table echoed.
As the Code was carried back out, Teague retreated to an alcove and began plucking aimlessly on an ancient guitar, his worn face impassive as stone. The Pirate Lords began delivering reports on their activities and recent developments, and Varian let out a sigh of tension that he hadn't even known he was carrying.
Who knew Pirate Lording would be so intense?
~~~
Varian trotted out of the room towards the quay, relieved to finally be out of the immediate presence of some of the most dangerous people in the world.
"Young Master Varian," came the gravelly baritone of Captain James Hook.
Oh, joy. Varian turned around and beheld the captain who came closest to the description of a dandy. A black curled wig sat atop his head, and mustachios adorned his upper lip and curled over his cheeks. The infamous hook sat on the stump of his left hand, and a fine rapier was sheathed on his belt. A flintlock pistol was shoved onto the other side. Keen blue eyes regarded the teenage boy.
"To think," Hook continued, "that Captain Nemo would bring a child to our proceedings. One is left to wonder just what makes a boy so special as to be included amongst our number. Or how he even ends aboard the Nautilus to begin with."
Varian's mouth moved before he could think about what he was going to say. "Well, he sank my ride; it's only fair he made up for it."
Hook laughed, and somehow it was scarier than when he was just interrogating him. "Ha! Quaint as it is as a tactic, there's certainly something to be said for just blasting through your opponents with a ram. How came you to be aboard the ship to begin with, boy?"
"Well, it started with me running away from Queen Grimhilde-"
A heavy hand came down on his shoulder, and Varian jumped. "Every time I turn around," Nemo said, "I find you wandering off to talk with the most disreputable of people. Come along, Varian, we must return to the Nautilus."
"So soon, Nemo?" Hook grinned. "'Tis a pity, and we were having such an interesting conversation too. It's not as if you have anything to hide, right?"
"We all have things to hide, Hook. You'll forgive me for helping my ward protect his own secrets, I trust?" Nemo made an odd clicking sound with his tongue, almost like a metronome - or a ticking clock.
Hook reddened, but concealed it with a sweeping bow. "As you say, Nemo. Until next time, young man." Something dangerous flickered in Hook's eyes, the blue orbs flashing red for a moment before he brought the brim of his hat down to cover them. Gazing upwards, he flew up towards where his ship was moored in the air, motes of light flickering as they fell to the quay.
Nemo watched the rival captain's departure with an unreadable expression. In a solemn voice, he said "Promise me something, Varian. Promise me that you'll never let yourself be caught alone with Captain Hook again."
"Sure, but can I ask why?" Varian asked curiously.
Nemo sighed. "Hook sees the young as competition, to be weeded out early. Even if they're not."
Varian's imagination gave him plenty of ideas as to why that would be the case; sometimes Varian hated his brain for inflicting such possibilities. "S-sure thing, Captain. I promise."
"Ishmael, please return to the Nautilus with Varian. I will be along shortly; I need to discuss a few matters with Captain Teach first."
"Yes, Cap'n." With that, Varian followed the taller man back to the ship. As he did, he fingered the satchel at his side, and tried not to think of the various surprises Nemo had asked him to prepare and bring along should the worst have happened. He was grateful that none of the contingencies had been necessary.
