[LOG] In Which Heulwen is 'Rescued'
Cyrus wasn't directly involved in this scene but his player along with the players of Gerard and Dinah provided the setting and the NPCs for Heulwen's thrilling escape from the clutches of the worst pirates on the high seas.
For reference, this is the crew that mutinied against Dinah.
The sea is pitching as if a storm were brewing and stormclouds gather but the wind is strong and forcing the ship in a direction back toward Amber. Not because the crew is in a hurry to reunite with Captain Discordia but rather because they are eager to get rid of the other blond they picked up in her place. Yesterday, Captian Sharkbiter was shivved by the blond and the fun and games seem to be over--now that the dancing and singing has slowed down. Heulwen keeps her distance from most of the crew trying to keep a safe distance despite the size of the ship. She seems prepared to jump overboard despite the shark infested waters if necessary but thus far has not needed to do so.
The crew should've learned, by now, that blonde females are nothing but trouble when they're aboard the Golden Apple. It's all shivving and so on. One of the elder, wiser, and much less dashing crew members, by the name of Scarblade, was quick to point this out. Currently, he's doing it again. "No. More. Blondes!" is called out into the brewing storm.
Picklefoot, the first mate, replies, "We're cursed we are," squinting suspiciously at the clouds. "Cursed," he moans again, "and all for pickin' up that bloody bint. I'm filled with an intolerable dread, I've a mind t'tell ya. Split 'er open and give 'er to the sea what birthed her!"
"No!" shouts Six-Fingered Billy. "Then she'll just grow inta MORE! We'll be overrun!"
"It was all fun and games until the Captain got shivved in the spleen!" Heulwen directs toward Picklefoot, "Maybe you should have thought twice before you rebelled against the last Captain! I signed on for the adventure part, but he didn't have to try the funny business." She doesn't seem to take the threat to heart but does have a bit of ugly twisted metal in her hand and seems prepared enough to use it.
Picklefoot squeaks and wards himself against the evil eye - a process that seems to involve hopping about on one foot, squinting one eye closed and spitting in a complex rhythm. "Discordia," and he spits again, this time quite simply. "Tha' sea-witch would have had us sailin' right into Amber's toothsome bosom!"
In the distance the storm continues to lurk dramatically, as if it were threatening to burst down upon the recently cleaned deck at any time. Still, there is a dark red spot where the Captain bled out the day before not terribly far from Picklefoot. The wind picks up slightly as if to hurry the nuisance back to shore.
"O'course we're bloody well cursed," shouts out Scarblade. "Blonde! I tell you, the sea, she spits 'em out o' 'er belly with all the cunning n' compassion o' a 'ungry shark! And in case ye haven't noticed, Picklefoot, that's where we're bloody well 'eaded now!"
Six-Fingered Billy shouts to the skies, "Amber's toothsome bosom!!!! It's gotta be better'n all this madness! Help!" He shakes his fist at Heulwen. Well, 'fist' is a bit of an overstatement. Six fingers, after all.
Heulwen snarls down at the hysterics, "I told you, get me within a couple of leagues of the port and I'll take myself the rest of the way into the city. Though, if I were you, I'd be begging your former Captain to take you back. She's the only one that sounds as if she had any sense around here!"
Picklefoot draws a rusty cutlass from his belt. "So's you can sing yer siren song of blood and call upon yer terrible sisters? I weren't born yesterday! You hornswaggled us, ye did, with yer winsome smile and wee frame. S'a'trap!"
The ship pitches as if the Captain were somehow dramatically shaking her fist at the ship from afar and thunder and lightening present as a threat--a sheet of rain comes quickly toward the ship but has not caught up with the Golden Apple.
"She's summonin' a weather demon!" cries Six-Fingered Billy. "It'll have its wicked way with us afore plungin' us into the deep!"
From the crow's nest comes the cry, "Ships, ho!"
Gunther the Navigator shouts to Billy, "There's no such thing as a weather demon, you daft git! It's obviously a storm dragon!"
"I told you, I'm just a Rebman clerk." She moves as if she is trying to get a better look at the incoming ships. "I happen to like stabbing people," is added as if she were begging for an excuse.
Picklefoot pauses and admits, a bit wistfully, "It is good fun, innit." He blinks away fond tears of memory.
Picklefoot says, "I remember me first stabbin'."
"Lower the colors!," is wisely called out by Scarblade. "Men to starboard side! Picklefoot, stop reminiscing before I remind ye o' the first time ye be stabbed!"
In the distance, at least one ship can be made out - a drab and dingy cutter with absurdly brilliant sails. It flies all the colors of the rainbow, this ship, and some colors that no self-respecting rainbow would be caught dead around.
Picklefoot moans, "Oh no, me poor liver!" He snaps to, and begins relaying orders as well.
Six-Fingered Billy says, "The storm dragons were all eaten by the Seven Terrible Lightning Gods for the crime of--" He is cut off by a chorus of "Shut up!" from the rest of the crew.
Heulwen glances toward Scarblade as if, perhaps, he should be in charge and moves a bit slower than the others as if being careful of the pitching ship as she measures her step. "This isn't my fault," Heulwen complains, "Mostyn said that I'd need to rescue myself. I'd say you brought this business down on yourselves."
Gunther spies the incoming ship. He says, "The colors! The gaudiness! Good gods, no! It can't be...him!"
For the moment, it doesn't particularly look like the ridiculously hued ship has actually noticed the Golden Apple. It seems, instead, to be attempting to outrace the storm - and not quite succeeding.
Scarblade quickly wards himself against witchery, which isn't a very quick process. It actually sort of looks like he's doing the Running Man, for a moment. "Arr! Away from me, ye scurvy wench! Before you infect me with ye woman's taint! Who the 'ell is Mostyn? Ye's Sea dragon?"
Picklefoot shouts, "Don't be speakin' his NAME, ye idjit! Ye'll add swiftness to the power of his summoning!"
Gunther shouts, "The dragons hate it when you say their names!"
"My brother and the first person I stabbed!" Heulwen glares at Scarblade but seems to be trying to figure out what is going on aboard ship still. "Oh, please, it's just Most--" but lets the word die as the wind catches her breath and carries it elsewhere.
Picklefoot calls to Scarblade, "We're light on cargo 'n' we can't be headin' into Amber's maw wit' nothin' to show. S'only the one ship looks like!" Greed, clearly, is waging war with superstitious terror here.
Able Ben stares at Heulwen. "Yer BROTHER's a sea dragon?!"
"Dragons don't be 'aving any bloody ears, you idiot!" Scarblade turns a wary eye to the horrid rainbow colors of the other ship. "Fine, o'ertake 'er! Bloody 'ell, it's not like any o' the bleeding legends ever turn out to be true."
Heulwen shrugs at Ben, she seems to have no objections to greed or to horrid rainbow colors.
Gunther screams, "Storm dragon, STORM! They hate it when you get that wrong!"
"We should give back to the sea what which is rightfully hers!," cries out Roberts.
The Golden Apple tacks into the winds, angling to close with the bright-sailed ship. Soon, figures can be made out on the other ship and it's clear from their activity that the Apple's been spotted. Two men in particular stand out - one, a black-skinned giant of a man, bare-chested and stoic. The other wears what appears at this distance to be a peacock costume, with garish colors and a wild assortment of feathers.
"I'll get the demon wards," says Six-Fingered Billy. "And the extra-painful knives."
Heulwen comments, "All knives are painful." But allows Six-Fingered Billy to continue without any particular trouble on her part.
Picklefoot asides, "But some is EXTRA painful. Billy done discovered that when he was Nine-Fingered Billy."
In the moments that follow, the two ships align for ramming and boarding - most of the arrow fire that occurs between both being hampered by the driving rain.
"Blessed Mother, they've got one o' them exotic dancers on board," calls out Scarblade, who's vision was going in his growing age. "If she's a blonde, they can keep 'er!"
"Blondes!" howls Billy.
Heulwen waits with clear anticipation to see the 'extra painful knives' as if there may be something here to learn. "You, really shouldn't have abandoned your, Captain."
Picklefoot does pull out an extra-painful knife of his own, as long as 'extra-painful' is pirate for 'extra-likely to cause Tetanus or perhaps Hepatitis-C'.
Robert glares. "We didn't abandoned her, we let her go for a swim. Not our fault she didn' find her way back."
Heulwen returns Robert's glare as if she were just as likely to put her own inadequately painful weapon into his spleen as talk to him, "You didn't turn around for her either, did you? Damn fool men!"
Once he's done howling, Billy rummages through a chest and pulls out several amulets on thick, tarnished chains. He puts all of them around his neck. He then produces a handful of knives which are unevenly serrated, broken in odd places, rusty, and covered with some sort of dark blue substance.
Billy says, "OW! Damn and blast!"
Five-fingered Billy shouts, "Let's give 'em what for, lads!"
Picklefoot shouts out his support and goes charging for a rope, swinging wildly through the air in an attempt to board the Bird of Paradise - which is the ship the Apple's just run into.
Heulwen frowns and lingers to watch the preparations, "Without your captain, you really are the worst pirates /ever/." Still, she can't help but admire the way that Picklefoot charges and swings--it's dramatic action at the finest.
Men come pouring off the Bird of Paradise in response and soon, both crews are caught up in the scrum.
The man in the particolored sarong and feathered head-dress leaps onto the railing of his ship and puts one fist to his hip, the other hand wrapped around a rope for balance. "Who dares assault the unquestionable magnificence of the Bird of Paradise," he shouts above the din of battle. "Lay down your weapons and tremble - TREMBLE - before the astonishing light of MOST RESPLENDENT PAKU."
The dark-skinned man beside Paku looks almost apologetic, though he does pause to casually disembowel one of the Apple's boarders with a sweep of his massive Alhambran blade.
"Aye, but we're still Pirates!," is shouted by Scarblade, as if that was the point of the mutiny to begin with. His own sword looked like it was starting to split down the middle. "Hell, that's no lady!" is said of Paku. "It's a bleeding frou-frou!"
Gunther leaps overboard in the direction opposite the Bird of Paradise. "Not Paku!" he shouts. "You're on your own, morons!"
"Good luck with that," Heulwen says from her position of gut spilling action, she seems disinclined to get involved unless someone threatens her. "I'm just a hostage and I'd say I'm doing a better job of playing my role for all the stabbing and whining--"
Five-fingered Billy leaps into the fray and causes some of the Bird's crew extra pain.
Paku lifts his hand from his hip to shade his eyes. He seems to spot something and turns to give M'buto instructions. The dark, silent man simply nods once and starts cleaving a path across the Golden Apple's deck.
Paku lifts his voice again. "Rejoice, unworthy and unfortunately smelly underlings, for Paku might yet spare you. Paku sees that you have come to deliver a GREAT GOLDEN PRIZE to the lord of the Paradise fleet!"
Picklefoot runs one of Paku's men through, and ducks the blade of another before slamming his eponymous limb into the groin of a third. "Take 'er! Take 'er and be glad!"
Heulwen's voice carries as if she were startled, "You have great golden prizes?"
Scarblade finishes turning one of the opposing pirate's inards into his outards, and quickly moves to hold a welcoming hand to Paku. "We surrender to the GREAT PAKU! Take her as your prize!"
Billy shouts, "Yes, by the great Storm-demo-dragon, take her!"
Heulwen eyes Billy as if she were debating putting one of his extra painful daggers in his gut, "I know you aren't talking about me!."
Helpfully, Roberts suggests to Heulwen, "They're calling you a prize, woman! Appreciate the lie!"
Paku looks a little surprised at the ease with which he took the ship. "Really?" He clears his throat. "That is, MOST RESPLENDENT PAKU is pleased that you filthy dog-creatures who are not even fit to lick the bilge from Paku's ship are aware of their place in life." He gestures imperiously towards Heulwen. "Bring to Paku the thirteenth and most auspicious of his brides!"
"Thirteen is a lucky number. May your claiming of her be great and make the sea TREMBLE!" Scarblade seems disinclined to be the one to bring Heulwen over to Paku, however.
M'buto sighs and looks resigned. Clearly these are two things he does quite often.
Heulwen allows herself to be brought, there isn't even a hint of ugly metal in her hand at the moment. She seems to be debating something but remains quiet for the time.
Five-fingered Billy bows to Paku but he keeps an eye on the Golden Prize in case she becomes a Stabby Golden Prize.
Heulwen mutters to Scarblade before leaving, "Cowards!"
Scarblade corrects, "Pirates!"
Paku begins to look a little nervous at the behavior of the crew. "Yes," he says, "you are right to fear to look at the bride of Paku." He shoots a questioning look at M'buto. M'buto just shrugs.
Picklefoot squints. "Hey. Maybe she's right," he says suddenly. "S'the point of bein' pirates if'n an exotic dancer be defeatin' us?"
Roberts eyes Picklefoot. "N'er mess with an exotic dancer when her bodyguard carries a blade that big." He does, however, unsheath his blade.
Heulwen says, "You be the ones calling yourself pirates, for all your grand posturing, I believe you lost your guts when you got rid of the last Captain, and perhaps even an important bit of your manhood." she's pretty close to being transferred at this point.
Five-fingered Billy says, "It's a fair cop."
Picklefoot raises his blade. "Ye'll not be talkin' 'bout me brother, Picklepecker like that!" He turns to Billy, "We'd be the right terror o' the seas if'n we had ourselves a blood-thirsty sirenish cap'n wouldn't we!" Gears are turning in ol' Picklefoot's head.
Heulwen calls out with confidence, "You wouldn't know what to do with a bloodthirsty Siren, Cap'n." She seems to be taking this whole transfer remarkably calmly--at least for the moment.
Paku looks rather discomfitted at descriptions like 'bloodthirsty siren'. "Perhaps," he says thoughtfully, "Paku could be satisfied with only twelve wives. Paku is not a greedy man." M'buto nods reassuringly.
Billy looks angry and shows Heulwen one of his remaining fingers in a rude gesture. "Hell's bunghole, we wouldn't know what to do! Picklefoot's right!"
Picklefoot shouts, "Save the cap'n! Save Cap'n... Bloodthirsty Siren. Thirsty Siren? Blood Siren?" He frowns. "S'an awkward name ain't it."
Heulwen appears to be M'buto's problem at the moment. She's grinning in an almost serene and clerkish fashion at Billy as if to further provoke anger from him.
Billy growls and shouts to Picklefoot, "We'll work it out later!" Which is an odd sort of war cry but, there you are.
The other pirates, simpler men at heart, take up the cry of "Cap'n Thirsty!" And once again, the scrum is on, the crew of the Golden Apple fighting with renewed fervor.
Heulwen tells M'buto, "You'll have to forgive them, they arent' doing very well with Captains this week." She doesn't seem the forgiving type herself.
M'buto eyes Paku, eloquently, then looks at Heulwen and nods sympathetically. He holds up a finger to ask for a moment's pause, then steps to one side to slam his forehead against the nose of an oncoming pirate.
"Aye! For Cap'n Thirsty of the Apple!," Scarblade cries out, loudly. A grin that is missing more teeth than it has remaining is given, before he wades into the battle.
Picklefoot kicks one of Paku's men overboard, wielding that dead foot like a club. He takes a thrown dagger to the shoulder but charges on!
Heulwen continues in the observer role, but one who seems to enjoy the blood, guts and violence. "They brought out the extra special painful daggers, this might get interesting," is asided to M'buto.
Paku eyes the scene with a surprisingly canny expression. In a sudden move, he draws an at least moderately painful knife and attempts to set it against Heulwen's throat. "Stop! Or Paku will be forced to exsanguinate the captain of these filthy pig-pirates!" He murmurs, to Heulwen, "Would bride number thirteen prefer orchids or lilacs at the wedding?"
"I'm very confused!" shouts Three-fingered Billy. Turns out he's been fighting a lot.
M'buto silently opines, 'I have an extra special sword', by way of raising it and chopping one of the pirate's legs clean off at the knee. The pirate, shockingly, is rather gleeful as he shouts, "Finally! I'll have meself a peg leeeeeeeeeeeG!" That last is as he hops around, slips on his own blood and hurtles overboard.
Heulwen given the choice, "Lilacs." She appears to be caught by Paku at the moment.
Picklefoot skids to a halt at Billy's words and nods in agreement. He scratches his head, quizically and pauses to pull the dagger out of his shoulder. "Me, too," he admits. He tries, "Don't... hurt her?" experimentally.
"Er," says Billy. "Let go of our Captain-Hostage."
"Aye, don't 'urt her!" Scarblade seems to agree with the call, his blade held out, moving in a wide figure eight towards Paku.
Scarblade, of course, isn't advancing any.
Paku presses the knife against Heulwen's throat in warning as Scarblade waves his sword about. Again, lowering his voice, "Does Bride Number Thirteen have anyone special she would like as maid of honor? Most Resplendent Paku can kidnap her wedding party for her."
M'buto clears his throat.
Paku amends, "Or invite. As Paku is in the employ of Amber and not at all a pirate."
Heulwen asks, "May I have Prince Gerard?" as if she were serious about that--well, she may have some problems picturing the prince in a dress.
Three-fingered Billy says, "Now I'm confused and nauseous."
"The man has excellent shoulders," Roberts notes.
Paku's eyes snap wide open and he nearly drops the knife. "W-wife must remember she is not Bride Number One to ask for such things," he stammers. "Bride N-number Thirteen is ... close with the man mountain?"
Picklefoot sighs, "And a well-turned calf."
Three-fingered Billy nods and admits, "Aye a fine calf."
"Aye," Heulwen replies with sincere affection in her tone, "I have climbed that mountain." Her grin is one of pure mischief.
Paku's gulp is audible across the deck. He lowers his knife and, startlingly enough, is all business when he asks, "Does lady require passage on the Bird of Paradise?"
"Not to mention his..." One of the pirates starts, but is interrupted by Scarblade's throat clearing.
Heulwen nods, "Sure, after such a daring rescue...I mean, this Captain-Bloody-Thirsty-Hostage is ready to go back to Amber."
Billy mutters, "For this I gave up three more fingers?" He shrugs, "It's a living."
Picklefoot looks mournful. "No wedding? But I loves weddin's I do."
Billy sniffs, "I wuz hopin' for some petit-fours."
Heulwen wags a finger at the crew of the Apple, "You should go back to your Captain and beg her to go easy on you--blame that Sharknose. It's not too late to beg."
Roberts clasps Picklefoot on the shoulder. "Maybe the next blonde," he offers consolingly.
From just overboard Gunther shouts, "Is it safe to come back, yet? Hello? Little help, here."
Paku nods and turns to the others. "MOST RESPLENDENT PAKU has words, so turn your ears to him filthy dung-creatures. Paku is generous, and so will provide mangy cur crew of Rotten Apple two barrels of rum in exchange for Bride Number Thirteen."
"Clearly, you don' know our Discordia!" Scarblade calls towards Heulwen. "Mebbe we could bring 'er flowers. N' chocolates. I 'ear the womenfolk like that," is asided towards Billy.
Heulwen notes, "It's never too late to start crawling back." She adds, "You aren't doing that great without her."
Picklefoot nods, slowly. "Also. There's rum." Which seems to have been a powerful argument for him.
Billy says, "The lass has a point. We don't even know the difference between a Storm Dragon and a Thunder Demon. Also, rum."
Picklefoot says, "Has anyone seen Gunther?"
"Rum," agrees Roberts. "Gunther?"
Gunther shouts, "Weather demon, asshole! Throw me a line!"
Paku nods to M'buto, who goes to arrange for the transfer of barrels.
Picklefoot cries out, "Gunther, is that you?" To the others, he exclaims, "He speaks t'me from beyond the grave!"
"Isn't enough we're bloody well cursed," spits out Scarblade, "But now we're haunted too?"
Scarblade throws his hands up in the air. "That's it! I'm retiring, I tell ye!"
Paku pitches his voice very carefully as he tells Heulwen, "Best if we're going now, m'Lady, in case their madness is catching." There is no trace of his previous 'accent'.
Gunther treads water and sighs deeply. "Yes. That's it I'm a bloody ghost. WooOOOoooo! Maybe Paku is hiring."
Picklefoot moans, "Gunther, we're sorry ye've been consigned t'the watery deep! We'll tip one back for ya tonight! An I'm sorry 'bout that bit wit' yer sister."
"And yer mother," Roberts confesses, himself.
Heulwen leans toward Paku, playing the part of the tamed savage, "Aye, Captain, best we put some distance between us and the storm." She seems to have lost all concern for the crew of the Apple.
From a bit faarther away now, Gunther's voice can be heard, "What the...? Oh, bugger."
Paku steps back onto the Bird of Paradise, followed warily by his crew. Two barrels of rum, as promised, are left behind. After some quiet instructions, a longboat is lowered, as some of Paku's men go to recover Gunther.
Heulwen trails along after Paku, no sign of ugly metal shiv appears. She smiles as if she is satisfied with the ship transfer and putting some distance between herself and the crew of the Apple.
For reference, this is the crew that mutinied against Dinah.
The sea is pitching as if a storm were brewing and stormclouds gather but the wind is strong and forcing the ship in a direction back toward Amber. Not because the crew is in a hurry to reunite with Captain Discordia but rather because they are eager to get rid of the other blond they picked up in her place. Yesterday, Captian Sharkbiter was shivved by the blond and the fun and games seem to be over--now that the dancing and singing has slowed down. Heulwen keeps her distance from most of the crew trying to keep a safe distance despite the size of the ship. She seems prepared to jump overboard despite the shark infested waters if necessary but thus far has not needed to do so.
The crew should've learned, by now, that blonde females are nothing but trouble when they're aboard the Golden Apple. It's all shivving and so on. One of the elder, wiser, and much less dashing crew members, by the name of Scarblade, was quick to point this out. Currently, he's doing it again. "No. More. Blondes!" is called out into the brewing storm.
Picklefoot, the first mate, replies, "We're cursed we are," squinting suspiciously at the clouds. "Cursed," he moans again, "and all for pickin' up that bloody bint. I'm filled with an intolerable dread, I've a mind t'tell ya. Split 'er open and give 'er to the sea what birthed her!"
"No!" shouts Six-Fingered Billy. "Then she'll just grow inta MORE! We'll be overrun!"
"It was all fun and games until the Captain got shivved in the spleen!" Heulwen directs toward Picklefoot, "Maybe you should have thought twice before you rebelled against the last Captain! I signed on for the adventure part, but he didn't have to try the funny business." She doesn't seem to take the threat to heart but does have a bit of ugly twisted metal in her hand and seems prepared enough to use it.
Picklefoot squeaks and wards himself against the evil eye - a process that seems to involve hopping about on one foot, squinting one eye closed and spitting in a complex rhythm. "Discordia," and he spits again, this time quite simply. "Tha' sea-witch would have had us sailin' right into Amber's toothsome bosom!"
In the distance the storm continues to lurk dramatically, as if it were threatening to burst down upon the recently cleaned deck at any time. Still, there is a dark red spot where the Captain bled out the day before not terribly far from Picklefoot. The wind picks up slightly as if to hurry the nuisance back to shore.
"O'course we're bloody well cursed," shouts out Scarblade. "Blonde! I tell you, the sea, she spits 'em out o' 'er belly with all the cunning n' compassion o' a 'ungry shark! And in case ye haven't noticed, Picklefoot, that's where we're bloody well 'eaded now!"
Six-Fingered Billy shouts to the skies, "Amber's toothsome bosom!!!! It's gotta be better'n all this madness! Help!" He shakes his fist at Heulwen. Well, 'fist' is a bit of an overstatement. Six fingers, after all.
Heulwen snarls down at the hysterics, "I told you, get me within a couple of leagues of the port and I'll take myself the rest of the way into the city. Though, if I were you, I'd be begging your former Captain to take you back. She's the only one that sounds as if she had any sense around here!"
Picklefoot draws a rusty cutlass from his belt. "So's you can sing yer siren song of blood and call upon yer terrible sisters? I weren't born yesterday! You hornswaggled us, ye did, with yer winsome smile and wee frame. S'a'trap!"
The ship pitches as if the Captain were somehow dramatically shaking her fist at the ship from afar and thunder and lightening present as a threat--a sheet of rain comes quickly toward the ship but has not caught up with the Golden Apple.
"She's summonin' a weather demon!" cries Six-Fingered Billy. "It'll have its wicked way with us afore plungin' us into the deep!"
From the crow's nest comes the cry, "Ships, ho!"
Gunther the Navigator shouts to Billy, "There's no such thing as a weather demon, you daft git! It's obviously a storm dragon!"
"I told you, I'm just a Rebman clerk." She moves as if she is trying to get a better look at the incoming ships. "I happen to like stabbing people," is added as if she were begging for an excuse.
Picklefoot pauses and admits, a bit wistfully, "It is good fun, innit." He blinks away fond tears of memory.
Picklefoot says, "I remember me first stabbin'."
"Lower the colors!," is wisely called out by Scarblade. "Men to starboard side! Picklefoot, stop reminiscing before I remind ye o' the first time ye be stabbed!"
In the distance, at least one ship can be made out - a drab and dingy cutter with absurdly brilliant sails. It flies all the colors of the rainbow, this ship, and some colors that no self-respecting rainbow would be caught dead around.
Picklefoot moans, "Oh no, me poor liver!" He snaps to, and begins relaying orders as well.
Six-Fingered Billy says, "The storm dragons were all eaten by the Seven Terrible Lightning Gods for the crime of--" He is cut off by a chorus of "Shut up!" from the rest of the crew.
Heulwen glances toward Scarblade as if, perhaps, he should be in charge and moves a bit slower than the others as if being careful of the pitching ship as she measures her step. "This isn't my fault," Heulwen complains, "Mostyn said that I'd need to rescue myself. I'd say you brought this business down on yourselves."
Gunther spies the incoming ship. He says, "The colors! The gaudiness! Good gods, no! It can't be...him!"
For the moment, it doesn't particularly look like the ridiculously hued ship has actually noticed the Golden Apple. It seems, instead, to be attempting to outrace the storm - and not quite succeeding.
Scarblade quickly wards himself against witchery, which isn't a very quick process. It actually sort of looks like he's doing the Running Man, for a moment. "Arr! Away from me, ye scurvy wench! Before you infect me with ye woman's taint! Who the 'ell is Mostyn? Ye's Sea dragon?"
Picklefoot shouts, "Don't be speakin' his NAME, ye idjit! Ye'll add swiftness to the power of his summoning!"
Gunther shouts, "The dragons hate it when you say their names!"
"My brother and the first person I stabbed!" Heulwen glares at Scarblade but seems to be trying to figure out what is going on aboard ship still. "Oh, please, it's just Most--" but lets the word die as the wind catches her breath and carries it elsewhere.
Picklefoot calls to Scarblade, "We're light on cargo 'n' we can't be headin' into Amber's maw wit' nothin' to show. S'only the one ship looks like!" Greed, clearly, is waging war with superstitious terror here.
Able Ben stares at Heulwen. "Yer BROTHER's a sea dragon?!"
"Dragons don't be 'aving any bloody ears, you idiot!" Scarblade turns a wary eye to the horrid rainbow colors of the other ship. "Fine, o'ertake 'er! Bloody 'ell, it's not like any o' the bleeding legends ever turn out to be true."
Heulwen shrugs at Ben, she seems to have no objections to greed or to horrid rainbow colors.
Gunther screams, "Storm dragon, STORM! They hate it when you get that wrong!"
"We should give back to the sea what which is rightfully hers!," cries out Roberts.
The Golden Apple tacks into the winds, angling to close with the bright-sailed ship. Soon, figures can be made out on the other ship and it's clear from their activity that the Apple's been spotted. Two men in particular stand out - one, a black-skinned giant of a man, bare-chested and stoic. The other wears what appears at this distance to be a peacock costume, with garish colors and a wild assortment of feathers.
"I'll get the demon wards," says Six-Fingered Billy. "And the extra-painful knives."
Heulwen comments, "All knives are painful." But allows Six-Fingered Billy to continue without any particular trouble on her part.
Picklefoot asides, "But some is EXTRA painful. Billy done discovered that when he was Nine-Fingered Billy."
In the moments that follow, the two ships align for ramming and boarding - most of the arrow fire that occurs between both being hampered by the driving rain.
"Blessed Mother, they've got one o' them exotic dancers on board," calls out Scarblade, who's vision was going in his growing age. "If she's a blonde, they can keep 'er!"
"Blondes!" howls Billy.
Heulwen waits with clear anticipation to see the 'extra painful knives' as if there may be something here to learn. "You, really shouldn't have abandoned your, Captain."
Picklefoot does pull out an extra-painful knife of his own, as long as 'extra-painful' is pirate for 'extra-likely to cause Tetanus or perhaps Hepatitis-C'.
Robert glares. "We didn't abandoned her, we let her go for a swim. Not our fault she didn' find her way back."
Heulwen returns Robert's glare as if she were just as likely to put her own inadequately painful weapon into his spleen as talk to him, "You didn't turn around for her either, did you? Damn fool men!"
Once he's done howling, Billy rummages through a chest and pulls out several amulets on thick, tarnished chains. He puts all of them around his neck. He then produces a handful of knives which are unevenly serrated, broken in odd places, rusty, and covered with some sort of dark blue substance.
Billy says, "OW! Damn and blast!"
Five-fingered Billy shouts, "Let's give 'em what for, lads!"
Picklefoot shouts out his support and goes charging for a rope, swinging wildly through the air in an attempt to board the Bird of Paradise - which is the ship the Apple's just run into.
Heulwen frowns and lingers to watch the preparations, "Without your captain, you really are the worst pirates /ever/." Still, she can't help but admire the way that Picklefoot charges and swings--it's dramatic action at the finest.
Men come pouring off the Bird of Paradise in response and soon, both crews are caught up in the scrum.
The man in the particolored sarong and feathered head-dress leaps onto the railing of his ship and puts one fist to his hip, the other hand wrapped around a rope for balance. "Who dares assault the unquestionable magnificence of the Bird of Paradise," he shouts above the din of battle. "Lay down your weapons and tremble - TREMBLE - before the astonishing light of MOST RESPLENDENT PAKU."
The dark-skinned man beside Paku looks almost apologetic, though he does pause to casually disembowel one of the Apple's boarders with a sweep of his massive Alhambran blade.
"Aye, but we're still Pirates!," is shouted by Scarblade, as if that was the point of the mutiny to begin with. His own sword looked like it was starting to split down the middle. "Hell, that's no lady!" is said of Paku. "It's a bleeding frou-frou!"
Gunther leaps overboard in the direction opposite the Bird of Paradise. "Not Paku!" he shouts. "You're on your own, morons!"
"Good luck with that," Heulwen says from her position of gut spilling action, she seems disinclined to get involved unless someone threatens her. "I'm just a hostage and I'd say I'm doing a better job of playing my role for all the stabbing and whining--"
Five-fingered Billy leaps into the fray and causes some of the Bird's crew extra pain.
Paku lifts his hand from his hip to shade his eyes. He seems to spot something and turns to give M'buto instructions. The dark, silent man simply nods once and starts cleaving a path across the Golden Apple's deck.
Paku lifts his voice again. "Rejoice, unworthy and unfortunately smelly underlings, for Paku might yet spare you. Paku sees that you have come to deliver a GREAT GOLDEN PRIZE to the lord of the Paradise fleet!"
Picklefoot runs one of Paku's men through, and ducks the blade of another before slamming his eponymous limb into the groin of a third. "Take 'er! Take 'er and be glad!"
Heulwen's voice carries as if she were startled, "You have great golden prizes?"
Scarblade finishes turning one of the opposing pirate's inards into his outards, and quickly moves to hold a welcoming hand to Paku. "We surrender to the GREAT PAKU! Take her as your prize!"
Billy shouts, "Yes, by the great Storm-demo-dragon, take her!"
Heulwen eyes Billy as if she were debating putting one of his extra painful daggers in his gut, "I know you aren't talking about me!."
Helpfully, Roberts suggests to Heulwen, "They're calling you a prize, woman! Appreciate the lie!"
Paku looks a little surprised at the ease with which he took the ship. "Really?" He clears his throat. "That is, MOST RESPLENDENT PAKU is pleased that you filthy dog-creatures who are not even fit to lick the bilge from Paku's ship are aware of their place in life." He gestures imperiously towards Heulwen. "Bring to Paku the thirteenth and most auspicious of his brides!"
"Thirteen is a lucky number. May your claiming of her be great and make the sea TREMBLE!" Scarblade seems disinclined to be the one to bring Heulwen over to Paku, however.
M'buto sighs and looks resigned. Clearly these are two things he does quite often.
Heulwen allows herself to be brought, there isn't even a hint of ugly metal in her hand at the moment. She seems to be debating something but remains quiet for the time.
Five-fingered Billy bows to Paku but he keeps an eye on the Golden Prize in case she becomes a Stabby Golden Prize.
Heulwen mutters to Scarblade before leaving, "Cowards!"
Scarblade corrects, "Pirates!"
Paku begins to look a little nervous at the behavior of the crew. "Yes," he says, "you are right to fear to look at the bride of Paku." He shoots a questioning look at M'buto. M'buto just shrugs.
Picklefoot squints. "Hey. Maybe she's right," he says suddenly. "S'the point of bein' pirates if'n an exotic dancer be defeatin' us?"
Roberts eyes Picklefoot. "N'er mess with an exotic dancer when her bodyguard carries a blade that big." He does, however, unsheath his blade.
Heulwen says, "You be the ones calling yourself pirates, for all your grand posturing, I believe you lost your guts when you got rid of the last Captain, and perhaps even an important bit of your manhood." she's pretty close to being transferred at this point.
Five-fingered Billy says, "It's a fair cop."
Picklefoot raises his blade. "Ye'll not be talkin' 'bout me brother, Picklepecker like that!" He turns to Billy, "We'd be the right terror o' the seas if'n we had ourselves a blood-thirsty sirenish cap'n wouldn't we!" Gears are turning in ol' Picklefoot's head.
Heulwen calls out with confidence, "You wouldn't know what to do with a bloodthirsty Siren, Cap'n." She seems to be taking this whole transfer remarkably calmly--at least for the moment.
Paku looks rather discomfitted at descriptions like 'bloodthirsty siren'. "Perhaps," he says thoughtfully, "Paku could be satisfied with only twelve wives. Paku is not a greedy man." M'buto nods reassuringly.
Billy looks angry and shows Heulwen one of his remaining fingers in a rude gesture. "Hell's bunghole, we wouldn't know what to do! Picklefoot's right!"
Picklefoot shouts, "Save the cap'n! Save Cap'n... Bloodthirsty Siren. Thirsty Siren? Blood Siren?" He frowns. "S'an awkward name ain't it."
Heulwen appears to be M'buto's problem at the moment. She's grinning in an almost serene and clerkish fashion at Billy as if to further provoke anger from him.
Billy growls and shouts to Picklefoot, "We'll work it out later!" Which is an odd sort of war cry but, there you are.
The other pirates, simpler men at heart, take up the cry of "Cap'n Thirsty!" And once again, the scrum is on, the crew of the Golden Apple fighting with renewed fervor.
Heulwen tells M'buto, "You'll have to forgive them, they arent' doing very well with Captains this week." She doesn't seem the forgiving type herself.
M'buto eyes Paku, eloquently, then looks at Heulwen and nods sympathetically. He holds up a finger to ask for a moment's pause, then steps to one side to slam his forehead against the nose of an oncoming pirate.
"Aye! For Cap'n Thirsty of the Apple!," Scarblade cries out, loudly. A grin that is missing more teeth than it has remaining is given, before he wades into the battle.
Picklefoot kicks one of Paku's men overboard, wielding that dead foot like a club. He takes a thrown dagger to the shoulder but charges on!
Heulwen continues in the observer role, but one who seems to enjoy the blood, guts and violence. "They brought out the extra special painful daggers, this might get interesting," is asided to M'buto.
Paku eyes the scene with a surprisingly canny expression. In a sudden move, he draws an at least moderately painful knife and attempts to set it against Heulwen's throat. "Stop! Or Paku will be forced to exsanguinate the captain of these filthy pig-pirates!" He murmurs, to Heulwen, "Would bride number thirteen prefer orchids or lilacs at the wedding?"
"I'm very confused!" shouts Three-fingered Billy. Turns out he's been fighting a lot.
M'buto silently opines, 'I have an extra special sword', by way of raising it and chopping one of the pirate's legs clean off at the knee. The pirate, shockingly, is rather gleeful as he shouts, "Finally! I'll have meself a peg leeeeeeeeeeeG!" That last is as he hops around, slips on his own blood and hurtles overboard.
Heulwen given the choice, "Lilacs." She appears to be caught by Paku at the moment.
Picklefoot skids to a halt at Billy's words and nods in agreement. He scratches his head, quizically and pauses to pull the dagger out of his shoulder. "Me, too," he admits. He tries, "Don't... hurt her?" experimentally.
"Er," says Billy. "Let go of our Captain-Hostage."
"Aye, don't 'urt her!" Scarblade seems to agree with the call, his blade held out, moving in a wide figure eight towards Paku.
Scarblade, of course, isn't advancing any.
Paku presses the knife against Heulwen's throat in warning as Scarblade waves his sword about. Again, lowering his voice, "Does Bride Number Thirteen have anyone special she would like as maid of honor? Most Resplendent Paku can kidnap her wedding party for her."
M'buto clears his throat.
Paku amends, "Or invite. As Paku is in the employ of Amber and not at all a pirate."
Heulwen asks, "May I have Prince Gerard?" as if she were serious about that--well, she may have some problems picturing the prince in a dress.
Three-fingered Billy says, "Now I'm confused and nauseous."
"The man has excellent shoulders," Roberts notes.
Paku's eyes snap wide open and he nearly drops the knife. "W-wife must remember she is not Bride Number One to ask for such things," he stammers. "Bride N-number Thirteen is ... close with the man mountain?"
Picklefoot sighs, "And a well-turned calf."
Three-fingered Billy nods and admits, "Aye a fine calf."
"Aye," Heulwen replies with sincere affection in her tone, "I have climbed that mountain." Her grin is one of pure mischief.
Paku's gulp is audible across the deck. He lowers his knife and, startlingly enough, is all business when he asks, "Does lady require passage on the Bird of Paradise?"
"Not to mention his..." One of the pirates starts, but is interrupted by Scarblade's throat clearing.
Heulwen nods, "Sure, after such a daring rescue...I mean, this Captain-Bloody-Thirsty-Hostage is ready to go back to Amber."
Billy mutters, "For this I gave up three more fingers?" He shrugs, "It's a living."
Picklefoot looks mournful. "No wedding? But I loves weddin's I do."
Billy sniffs, "I wuz hopin' for some petit-fours."
Heulwen wags a finger at the crew of the Apple, "You should go back to your Captain and beg her to go easy on you--blame that Sharknose. It's not too late to beg."
Roberts clasps Picklefoot on the shoulder. "Maybe the next blonde," he offers consolingly.
From just overboard Gunther shouts, "Is it safe to come back, yet? Hello? Little help, here."
Paku nods and turns to the others. "MOST RESPLENDENT PAKU has words, so turn your ears to him filthy dung-creatures. Paku is generous, and so will provide mangy cur crew of Rotten Apple two barrels of rum in exchange for Bride Number Thirteen."
"Clearly, you don' know our Discordia!" Scarblade calls towards Heulwen. "Mebbe we could bring 'er flowers. N' chocolates. I 'ear the womenfolk like that," is asided towards Billy.
Heulwen notes, "It's never too late to start crawling back." She adds, "You aren't doing that great without her."
Picklefoot nods, slowly. "Also. There's rum." Which seems to have been a powerful argument for him.
Billy says, "The lass has a point. We don't even know the difference between a Storm Dragon and a Thunder Demon. Also, rum."
Picklefoot says, "Has anyone seen Gunther?"
"Rum," agrees Roberts. "Gunther?"
Gunther shouts, "Weather demon, asshole! Throw me a line!"
Paku nods to M'buto, who goes to arrange for the transfer of barrels.
Picklefoot cries out, "Gunther, is that you?" To the others, he exclaims, "He speaks t'me from beyond the grave!"
"Isn't enough we're bloody well cursed," spits out Scarblade, "But now we're haunted too?"
Scarblade throws his hands up in the air. "That's it! I'm retiring, I tell ye!"
Paku pitches his voice very carefully as he tells Heulwen, "Best if we're going now, m'Lady, in case their madness is catching." There is no trace of his previous 'accent'.
Gunther treads water and sighs deeply. "Yes. That's it I'm a bloody ghost. WooOOOoooo! Maybe Paku is hiring."
Picklefoot moans, "Gunther, we're sorry ye've been consigned t'the watery deep! We'll tip one back for ya tonight! An I'm sorry 'bout that bit wit' yer sister."
"And yer mother," Roberts confesses, himself.
Heulwen leans toward Paku, playing the part of the tamed savage, "Aye, Captain, best we put some distance between us and the storm." She seems to have lost all concern for the crew of the Apple.
From a bit faarther away now, Gunther's voice can be heard, "What the...? Oh, bugger."
Paku steps back onto the Bird of Paradise, followed warily by his crew. Two barrels of rum, as promised, are left behind. After some quiet instructions, a longboat is lowered, as some of Paku's men go to recover Gunther.
Heulwen trails along after Paku, no sign of ugly metal shiv appears. She smiles as if she is satisfied with the ship transfer and putting some distance between herself and the crew of the Apple.