What hath gone before: a member of the Explorer's Society (an archaeologist in Avalon) had sent a report to the headquarters about a sailor who claimed to have the legendary Black Pearl. Actually, the sailor didn't know it was that; he wanted to pawn it for its value. The shopkeeper wasn't interested.

Since this might be the infamous Black Pearl, efforts were quickly made to retrieve it. The rumor, however, leaked out, and the four major powers had put out rewards for the Pearl to be turned in to them.

The Explorer's Society assembled a team, half of them explorers, half of them ship's crew, and sent them to Wandesborrow to find the Pearl or this sailor.

In Wandesborrow, the team learned that the sailor had sailed on the Iphigenia and the team set sail in pursuit.


So Albert, Carmen and Johann are now in DeChaine. If you don't yet know each other yet, that's fine. With your post, establish why you are in DeChaine (need help, ask), where in DeChaine you are (inn, harbor, stable, bathhouse, etc.), and what you are looking to do.
This message was last edited by the GM at 15:19, Thu 02 Nov 2017.

Her face hurt.

Resting in the bathhouse, Carmen had tried in vain to apply creams and ointments to the unsightly scar.  It continued to hurt, almost as bad as it had five days prior when she'd gotten slashed in the face.  The fact it was already a 'scar' and not, say, an open wound had puzzled her beyond compare, but then...

...a flashing blade with green sigils.  Trails of luminescent fog curled away from each of the strange runes.  She had no understanding of what they said, despite her great familiarity with languages.  The skin on her cheek burned as the blade passed over her.  Her assailant looked at her, puzzled.  His attack hadn't killed her.  Her face was marred, but she was still alive.  Guards burst into the room, and he slashed at their throats, killing them and running away.  Their skin curdled, mottled before her eyes.  She screamed, her face hurting, her body aching, two dead men shriveling on the floor of her room...

Sitting up from the warm waters, Carmen ran her delicate fingers along the unsightly mar and felt another wave of tears building.  She had to be strong.  She had to be strong, like the Eisen before her.  She might have no real attachment to the country, but Albert and Johann had told her about their homeland, about their parents.  She had to do them proud.

Sniffly, she got out of the bath, dried off, got dressed, and headed out onto the thoroughfare again.  That she'd run into her brothers while on her way to flee Montaigne was a delightful coincidence, and had she been more religious, perhaps she would have ascribed their meeting to some sort of 'fate' or 'intervention.'  But no.  Carmen had no such religious compunctions.  Instead, checking both ways before crossing the street, she opted for 'chance.'  A religious man might cross the road without checking, thinking his god would protect him.  The atheist checked both ways, just in case.

Running a hand through her distinctive hair, Carmen headed for the bunkhouse they'd hired for the night.  Albert's ship was extremely cramped, and Carmen had a feeling that a jenny might be more popular on the vessel than Albert was willing to allow his sister to be.  Still, he'd probably have to get over that soon.  They were supposed to meet up today, get the last of the supplies, and then head out before anyone...

No one was going to look for her, though.  No one would probably care that she wasn't around, would they?  She was just a jenny that the king liked.  Surely he had others, no?  Others without scars.

Fighting back tears again, Carmen moved towards the flophouse.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:05, Mon 30 Oct 2017.

While she'd been enjoying the luxury and solitude of the bath house, it was inevitable that Carmen overheard some of the local gossip. It was mildly entertaining listening to the problems of people she didn't know and wasn't likely to ever meet. Mary Skeffington had a new beau, Wilfred Maddock was drunk again, Janet Varney was pregnant again (her third), Boris Platnick had the ague, Miranda Grimm was missing... probably ran away with Henry Fenlon... or maybe she was the latest victim of the Beast of DeChaine, Thomas the Rude bought Old Man Eckelberry's printing business, Mrs. Mohney bought a new hat, Phyllis Frazer lost her virginity to either Miles Neidlin or Thomas the Dreamer...

Out in the streets again, Carmen found the locals rather pleasant, many of them greeted her with a smile, wave or "g'day", even though they didn't know her.

Six replacement spars. A yard arm for the sprung mizzen royal, no thanks to Albert’s little stunt on the Cape after the little altercation with that Avalon sloop. Heavy hempen canvas for the aforementioned royal. Oil. Tar. Enough blocks to make Han wonder whether or not the bosun was trying to embezzle them, and the tackle to accompany. He’d argued with the bosun, and had settled on the extra spars in case they needed to fish any more yards.

Bless Albert, but he seemed to get a kick out of pushing the Gespenst’s limits. A better hand at the helm couldn’t be found, to be sure, although at the expense of the bosun's rather frayed nerves.

For the most part, Han was ensuring their unexpected stint in Dechaine was well spent. Call him a romantic if you want, but a man had once told him some of the best spars came out of Montaigne, and Dechaine happened to be near enough to the Lock Horn to ensure ample supply. The collection at the ship-yard didn’t disappoint. No curls, no knots. Just straight, clean wood.  Han had to talk himself out of arguing to replace the whole lot of the existing yards, just in case the purser (if not Albert himself) decided to have his head.

In the end, the bosun had taken over such matters, and Han had dedicated himself to ensuring the Gespenst was ample loaded with enough sponge, worms, matches, priming-irons, wads and shot — bar, chain, case, langrage, grape or plain round — to keep her provisioned all the way around the Atabean, if need be. That was, presuming the steward was doing his job of loading the hold with adequate food.

It was a level more care than he’d usually take. In truth, it was mostly a manifestation of nervous energy. Carmen had excused herself to the bathhouse after a much shorter introduction than what he would have liked, and Han needed to do…

Something.

Anything.

Something that most definitely didn’t involve sitting still.

His head had been churning for most of the day, alternating between shock, surprise, relief, and about sixty other emotions he couldn’t even name. Meticulously pouring himself into his work always had a way of helping to keep his mind steady, and it was a long-time trick that Johann far too often relied on as a crutch. This was the end result. At the very least, it meant the Gespenst would be able to set sail wanting for nothing.

The Gespenst herself had been warped into the dock, sitting neatly under the derricks. The last of the supplies would be loaded shortly, and she’d soon be ready to set sail. Gulls cried overhead, the cold north wind carrying the sound into the stone square. Han cast her a final glance, and over little black shapes scurrying along the spar deck, before he tore his gaze away and tried to pick his way towards the boarding house.

It felt strange, being back. The colours, the clothing, the stone, the music, the dress. Being able to hear Montaignoise spoken freely around him again was heartening, in a way, but the stone streets felt almost as alien as they did familiar. He could still tell you where each turn would take you — to the bakers, the cobblers, the whorehouse, the market square — and the appropriate shortcut to each, but it didn’t feel like it should when you were returning to a place that could arguably be considered ‘home’.

Or maybe it did. What did he know?

Too much had happened.

Too much had changed.

He pushed the thought aside as he made his way through the sparse crowd, and, before long, caught a glimpse of dazzling white hair headed the same direction.

Han felt his lips purse.

If nothing else, his sister was conspicuous. That made him nervous just on the principle of it. It was a silly thing to feel. It wasn’t as though they were running from anyone, and he was sure no one was after them, but there was a bizarre sense of menace that was hovering over him. Over this town. Over this city. He’d already lost her once, and he wasn’t going to be comfortable until she was firmly bundled on the Gespenst and Dechaine was no more than a speck off their stern.

“Carmen?” he called, jogging a little to catch up. He wasn’t looking quite as put together as she was, given he’d foregone the opportunity for a bath in exchange for catching up with the ship’s business. Honestly, together with the early sign of a beard and his uncut hair, he was looking downright unruly compared to the last time they’d spoken, so many years ago.

A lot had changed since then.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:47, Wed 01 Nov 2017.

A voice from the past called out.  Carmen turned around, all smiles, and waved at her brother.  Getting used to his new voice--it had deepened since the last time they'd really been together--was going to take a little bit of time.  The change had probably been so gradual for him that he hadn't really noticed, but for her, it was jarring.  He'd left and become a man, a proper man.  But there was still the Han in his voice that she'd grown up with.  The difference wasn't quite as stark as it was with Albert, but... maybe the familiarity, the closeness was what made the situation so...

It was that feeling of going down stairs and misjudging how far the next step was.

Carmen made her way through the crowd to him, giving him a hug when they were finally in proximity.  "Han," she murmured, "I thought that was you!  Were you on your way to see brother, or no?"

If Carmen was at all upset, she hid it exceptionally well. Or perhaps Han was just so pleased to see her he was subconsciously overlooking the subtle telltales. How long had it been? Nine? Maybe ten years? Carmen had changed, just as much if not more than he had.

She’d…

Well, she’d grown up.

It was easier to see now in daylight. She didn’t have a scar then, but the smile hadn’t changed much. There was something a bit more mature to her now, even though, logically saying, she was still young. The absinthe-green of her eyes hadn’t changed either; still as striking and familiar as they ever were.

“I was looking for you,” Han replied, after the hug broke off. There was something slightly surreal in just being able to hug her again, and he found himself speaking in slightly over-rapid Montaigne. “Plans changed. Albert’s waiting on the Gespenst, seeing the rest of the supplies loaded, then we’re ready to sail soon as the Harbourmaster can find a tow.”

That was the one advantage the Revanche had over the Gespenst. The Revanche had been small enough to push off from the docks and exit the harbour under oar, but the Gespenst was bigger, and unwieldy enough to require assistance.

He didn’t mean to sound overeager to get out of Dechaine either, but he’d be lying if he wasn’t antsy.

“Do you have anything left to do?"

Oh.

Carmen swallowed audibly, deep in thought for a moment.  "No, that should be fine.  There's nothing in Dechaine for me at the moment.  Not that isn't on its way to a boat."  She grinned up at Johann and began to walk towards the dock, reaching over to hold his arm.  "Let's away.  There's... certainly an appeal to partake in adventure, just as you and brother do!" Conveniently, Carmen failed to mention the whole burning vengeance and painful scar thing.  Best to keep those hidden for now.

Not the scar, obviously.  But Johann didn't need to know how recent it was, did he?  Not yet.  She could tell him and Albert at the same time, once they were out at sea.  No need to frustrate them yet.

The movement to lift his arm to allow her to link her hand under his elbow was so fluid that Han almost didn’t even realise it had happened until she’d slipped in next to him. A little holdover of muscle memory that time had seemingly forgotten. They’d always walked this way through the Broussard courtyards as children, and along the streets of Dechaine whenever Carmen wanted to go out.

Philippe never let her out without an escort. He hadn’t worked out why, back then, until later. As much as he was trying not to let the tainted memories of the past sour his mood, it was hard to keep the nostalgia at bay.

“We have time, if you do need it,” Han tried to assure her, a little bit more carefully. The little pause of hers hadn’t gone unnoticed. She might have changed in some respects, but other little habits of hers were still surprisingly familiar. “I'd say it's a while before we're away.”

Her idea of "adventure," too, might not be quite...

He cut himself off there. She hadn’t exactly signed up for a nautical lesson, and there was plenty of time to get her up to speed, though he couldn't help feel a flicker of worry. Ships had their benefits, definitely, but they didn't quite carry all the comforts of the King's Court.

... That was another thing he had to ask about.

The tips of the tops of the masts of the taller vessels were appearing over the buildings, and the stairway that lead down to port provided a glimpse of the distant sea on the horizon as they approached.

"I have a surprise for you, too," he announced firmly, "once we get to the berth."
This message was last edited by the player at 11:57, Fri 03 Nov 2017.

"Am I an aunt now?" Carmen asked, an eyebrow raised. A little wriggle of pain went through her nerves as the scar pulsed unenjoyably, and Carmen hissed under her breath as the sensation passed through her body.  "There... is one thing," she finally confirmed, removing one hand from Johann's bicep and placing it over her scar.  "I'd rather tell you when we're with Albert, though.  So I need only say the stupid story once.  Do you mind terribly?"  She stared up at her big brother with as earnest a smile as she could muster.  "I think we could get some really useful information, if there's actually time we'd otherwise be wasting.  I just... don't want to be a bother."

Truthful or not, Carmen tried her best to be humble.  It was the only way to blunt her arrogance towards pretty much everyone other than l'Empereur and her family.  "But if you're telling me you or Albert has a child, and we're meandering towards the vessel to meet my new niece or nephew, I promise a punch straight to your face."

Han couldn’t help but laugh. Partially because he had no doubt she would punch him in the face if push ever came to shove, and partially because of all the possible things to assume, why was her first guess that one of them had gotten someone knocked up out of wedlock?

… Okay, fair. He couldn’t really speak for whether or not Albert was hiding any family secrets, but if that surprise was coming, it was going to be a shock to both of them.

“Not that,” he assured, trying to get the grin off his face. Carmen’s earlier tone had all the hint of something serious to it, so whatever it was, it had to be important. He knew she was looking to leave Montaigne — which was strange enough on its own — and maybe he’d find the answers to the questions he’d so far refrained from asking.

If anything had happened to her…

“Albert was always better at the telling,” Han admitted with a partial shrug. “So I might leave him the honour. We’re nearly there.”

The bay spread out before them as they descended the stone steps, the horizon was dominated by two magnificent Montaignoise ships of the line, both seventy-fours, their prodigious forms flanking the harbor. Scores of merchantmen were spread about, the water peppered with long-boats, barges, launches, cutters, caravals, and sloops, and even xebecs and polacres from the north seas, right down to a creeping jolly-boat containing an enormous nobleman whose sheer bulk had it weighed down to a bare three inches off the water, while his beleaguered crew attempted to haul him to shore.

Han steered her past them all, heading towards one of the outer edges of the harbour and along a quay. Smaller craft were milling about, unloading and reloading goods. Docked at the furthest point was a handsome black frigate, her tall masts looming high over quay. Her people were repainting a stark white band across the chequered line of her gunports and up over her transom, the words Die Gespenst emblazoned in white along her stern. She was in the process of being loaded, a number of crates hanging pendulously above her weather deck by the derricks, her crew making short, disciplined work of the supplies.

Han pulled up, squinting over the sunlight bouncing across the water to see if he could catch the familiar outline of Albert standing tall on the stern. He turned to Carmen after a second, giving her hand a squeeze and offering her a smile that was, perhaps, a touch mixed in emotion.

“Welcome home.”

Home.

This was home now.

Carmen felt tears burning behind her eyelids, but she angrily blinked them back.  Where once she had danced in the great halls of royalty, where she had held a fan over her mouth and whispered scandalous secrets to her fellow courtiers, where she'd evaded and dodged and ducked and redirected vicious rumor sharper indeed than any knife she'd encountered, where once Carmen had been part of a grand tradition and known her place and been happy...

Now this was home.

"It's really quite pretty," she acknowledged.  The white band and the artistry of the title, it was all quite something.  "Brother's up there, no?" Carmen asked, looking up at Johann and then back at the ship.  "I should hope you two don't have something nefarious planned..."

Tugging on Han's arm, Carmen started towards the vessel with a slightly imperious demeanor.  The common sailors had better get out of her way, her expression said, lest she walk over them!

"Nothing nefarious," Han confirmed, affixing a smile that wasn't quite as cheerful as he hoped it would look. The old concerns were still playing. Life on a ship wasn't quite...

But this was what she said she'd wanted, wasn't it? And perhaps it was pure selfishness on his part, but idea of sailing away from Dechaine without her, after all they'd...

No. That sort of thinking wasn't going to help.

Not now.

Carmen's appearance, too, was evidently causing a bit of a stir amongst the crew. A number had  stopped what they were doing, and the two closest to them on the quay were outright staring, prompting a grumpy "Zurück an die Arbeit," (Get back to work) from Han in rather rough Eisen as they went past.

"He might be in his quarters," Han suggested in Montaignoise, having to quicken his pace in case she needed any assistance getting up the gangplank. The sea in the bay was calm this morning, so the ship wasn't moving enough to warrant his concern, but it seemed time and distance hadn't dulled his habit of being slightly more overprotective than strictly necessary.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:14, Mon 06 Nov 2017.

Albert had spent most of the morning overseeing the crew as they were restocking the ship with essentials.  While he didn't say anything or otherwise get involved, it was good for the men to see the captain watching them.  However his subordinates had everything well in hand, and the process should be complete by early afternoon. Trusting his crew to finish their work, Albert returned to his cabin.  He made a mental note to give the men an extended shore leave with some extra money as a reward for their hard work and efficiency.  He'd have to bring that up with Johann whenever he came back from fetching their sister.

Their sister.  Albert was still torn about the idea of seeing Carmen for the first time in years.  However thankfully the charts and ledgers at his desk provided ample distraction and Carmen was quickly placed out of his mind.  There was no use worrying about what could have been, not when their was revenge to be had.  Profitable revenge at that.  He'd always planned on paying the Broussards back for their 'kindness' to his siblings, and now the pieces were starting to fall into place.  He'd heard rumors of a disgruntled former employee of the merchant family here in Dechaine, and now all he needed to do was find the man.

However a sharp knock on his door pulled him away from his thoughts.  "Enter!" he barked.

Carmen didn't mind the looks.  That impulse--staring at the strange looking lady--was what had gotten her the attention of the Roi.  She was all too used to turning that sort of attention into power, into opportunity, into success.  The grumpy snap from Han made her giggle quietly, and reflexively she covered her mouth when she felt the sensation nearing her lips.  She was, unlike her brothers, a thoroughly modern Montaigneer.  "Sie werden einen Aufruhr verursachen, wenn Sie nicht aufpassen," she murmured.  You will cause a commotion if you aren't careful.  "Es ist üblich für Männer zu schauen, wenn sie Frauen in einiger Zeit nicht gesehen haben, ist es nicht?"  It is common for men to look when they have not seen women in some time, is it not?

The angry bark of her brother sent little butterflies through her heart, and Carmen looked up at Johann before turning the handle to the door.  "Aye aye, Captain.  T_{hat is what they say on boats, no?}"  Her knowledge of nautical goings-on were, unfortunately, confined solely to the penny dreadfuls she devoured every month.

"Oui," Han replied grumpily, responding to her playful rebuttal regarding the crew. "Mais tu n'êtes pas d'autres femmes." But you are not other women.

She'd put the question to him in Eisen, but Han had still stubbornly responded in Montaignoise. A majority of the crew were of Eisen decent, but there were only a rare handful aboard that spoke Montaignoise with any fluency, and Han could count them on one hand. The less of his conversation that could be overheard, the better.

He’d known she was going to attract attention on board, but that still hadn’t quite prepared him for the reality of it. She was his sister, for one, and besides, she—

Han grit his teeth and chewed that thought down.

Other than that hiccup, it felt good to step back on deck. To anyone who knew what to look for, die Gespenst was unmistakably Eisen in construction, but there was a sleek elegance to her in her simplicity. No line was wasted. No carving superfluous. Even the door to the Captain’s cabin lacked the usual fluttery carvings that might decorate a Montaignoise or Castillan ship.

Nerves were starting to curl up when they drew to the door, but he couldn’t help but smile to himself at his brother’s customary bark from the other side.

“More or less,” Han replied to Carmen with a grin, before half yelling back in Eisen as he shoved the door open. “Albert, stop being a shut-in, would you?”

Albert glanced up as the pair enter his cabin.  The irritation at being disturbed that was present on his face quickly faded as he noticed the figure standing next to his brother.  Seconds seemed like minutes as he intently studied the white haired women at Han's side.  When his brother mentioned the fact that their sister would be joining them, he wasn't sure what to expect, as he hadn't seen Carmen since she was just a child.  And yet here she stood, all grown up, and by all appearances, the very definition of womanhood.

Standing quickly, he rounded his table before wordlessly pulling her into a hug.  When the pair did finally break the embrace some moments later, he was smiling "My dear sister, it has been far too long."

"Not my fault," she grumbled as she pulled him back into another hug.  It was so weird to hear him.  To smell him.  To see him.  It had been years, and even when she'd seen him last he hadn't been a real man.  Now... look at him.  A fucking ship's captain.  A captain of Eisen men, no less.  Who would've expected this?  And how had it happened?  "How did this happen?" Carmen inquired, finally releasing Albert on her own terms and stepping back to look at him properly.  Poor Han had suffered similar bouts of intense, on-her-terms hugging.  No one decided when to end the hug other than Carmen.  No one.

"Time tends to do that, I'm afraid," replied Han with a partial shrug. He'd stepped off to the side, letting Albert and Carmen have their moment, and the ghost of smile was dancing on the edge of his lip.

They'd found her.

God.

Something about finally having her on the ship made it feel a little bit more real. As though, until now, it all might have been snatched from under his fingers at any moment. The nerves were still there, but something about having them finally seeing them all reunited was cracking through even Han's usual over-caution.

After everything...

After so much...

"It's good to have you back, sister."

Just as Carmen and Han entered Albert's cabin, the sound of cannon fire reaches their ears. It is fairly loud and close by! It is followed by the sound of splintering wood. However, there is no jolt to the ship, so it is clear that it didn't hit Albert's ship, but must have hit a nearby one.

As if on cue, something terrible was already happening.  Drawing a throwing dagger and crouching down, eyes wide with fear, Carmen looked around the cabin before glancing out the windows.  "You just had to jinx it, didn't you, Han?" she muttered, shooting a good-natured smile up at her brother before returning her gaze to the outside world.  Whatever had made that sound hadn't then made the ship capsize, so the legendary merkrakendragonmaid she'd read about in the penny dreadful wasn't the cause.  Phew.

That was a dodged bullet, no doubt.

"Are we under attack?  Under fire?  Are we being boarded?"  Her complete naivete with respect to the goings-on of sailors might've been adorable, if not for the sound of a ship getting damaged.  That did put a bit of a damper on things.

At the telltale sound of cannons, Albert immediately broke the hug and flung the cabin door open.  "To your stations men, get our guns loaded!  Johann prepare the marines for action!" he barked.  He doesn't know what's going on, but he refuses to take any chances.  After all, this family had just be reunited, he'll be damned if he'll let anything tear them apart again.  Motioning his sister over from her position in the doorway, he said simply "You are not to leave my side Carmen, not even for a moment, is that understood?"  His words were not harsh, but there was something about the tone of it all that struck Carmen.  It was the tone of a man who knew his words were going to obeyed to the letter, and without a moment's hesitation.

His sister safe, he stood calmly amidst the chaos unfolding all around him as the sailors began scrambling to their posts, scurrying about in a rush to fulfill the orders of the ship's officers.  Eyes scanning the water, Albert looked to make sense of the situation, as obviously a ship had just been attacked, and there was always the chance that they'd be next.

Putain de merde y son fils de pute.

Even in the cabin, the sound of the exploding canon fire was deafening. Han ducked his head instinctively, but there was no shudder of impact, or explosion of wood from shot bursting through the Hull.

That wasn't—

Fuck.

With only a spare glance to make sure Carmen had found cover, Han moved quick, onto the deck and sprinting the step to the quarterdeck three at a time. "ALL HANDS," came the roar towards the dock. Men were dropping supplies, rushing aboard, some leaping against the side of the hull to climb the gunwales. There was a flurry as men vanished to the gundeck, others towards the armoury, while heaves of powder passed up from the magazine and the shot locker to the spar deck. The fraps were loosened, guns turned around, and the freshly painted ports on the Gespenst's side pulled open to an all mighty roar and crash as the carronades were pulled into position.

There was a part of Han's brain that was already aware that it wasn't them being shot at. With a jump onto the weather rail, he swung himself around onto the mizzen shroud to gain some elevation on the ratlines for a better view. Han squinted against the sun dancing over the sea, looking in the direction the sound had come from. He couldn't organise the men until he knew the threat.

Brûle en l’enfer. The Gespenst was still moored. If this turned against them, Albert was going to have to pull off a miracle.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:37, Thu 16 Nov 2017.

The lean Avalonian had followed the trail of rumors from his homeland across the mouth of the Avalon Straight to DeChain. Two days ago he'd landed at the dock, delivered by an Avalonian "merchant" sloop. Jacob suspected the ship was actually one of Elaine's Sea Dogs. HE was uncertain of the queen but she was not his concern at the moment.

Where the Vaticine clergy and sorcery overlapped only the rankest of evil could ensue. Stories of disappearances and eager hunters after fabled artifacts all focused here, and so Jacob had come.

For two days he had asked quietly and listened to conversations in the pubs, coffee houses and streets. He'd learned little he could act on but a picture was forming.

He had stepped out of the lodging house and into the bustling side street of DeChain and turned toward the docks. He wore his usual black wool, raw linen, sturdy road boots and unadorned rapier at his hip. The simple steel Duellist's pin was displayed on his lapel.

As he made his way to the docks, thunder roared and timber cracked.

Surprised, Jacob fell into a defensive stance, his hand going to his rapier instinctively. Acting ahead of the confused Montaigne civilians, Jacob realized the commotion had come from the docks.

Someone had fired cannon at a docked ship?!

Jacob gathered himself quickly and sprinted to the waterfront.

He drew up at the dock and surveyed the situation, looking for the attacker and the target.

Albert and Han, upon reaching deck, quickly spot a ship out to sea that is firing its cannons at another ship that is docked. It's pretty much an unheard of scene, as there are usually shore batteries that will fire on the attacker. Plus, it's hard to approach without being seen. Perhaps it managed to do it under cover of the fog, traces of which still hang in the air above the ships.

When Albert docked, he saw that the other ship was called the Southern Wind, and seemed to be an armed merchantman. No doubt some of its crew was already ashore, and those left not alert or prepared for attack.

You can see that the attacking ship has black sails... not unheard of, but often favored by pirates for the 'stealth factor' when attacking at night.

It's probably got a dozen guns on its port side, which is the side firing at the Southern Wind.

Albert is quickly surprised and then annoyed that the shore batteries aren't firing on the pirates ship.


Jacob, of course, sees pretty much the same thing. Less familiar with ships and the sea, however, he's not quite as astounded at the action.

Albert's voice cut through the chaos of battle, and he can be heard quite clearly giving orders to the crew "Cast off the moorings, let's get clear of the dock!" Motioning to another group of sailors, he adds "Set the jibs, forward staysails, and spanker to stabilize us!  When that's done, get the topsails up so we're not sitting here dead in the water!"  His next words were cut off by yet another salvo of cannon fire, but the sailors seemed to understand him quite clearly and scramble into action.  With any luck they'd be able to get moving here in a minute.

Flagging his brother over, he adds "I've got a bad feeling about this... That's the Black Talon and Bronson Kreuz, what the hell are they doing here?  This sure isn't the Brotherhood's work." Left unsaid of course was the fact that there are rumors that the man and his crew don't abide by the charter all that much.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:58, Sat 18 Nov 2017.

The Black Talon? That made even little and less sense.

Swearing to himself in another angry volley of Montaignoise curses, Han cast a furious look out towards the ship currently ruining what was supposed to be a joyful reunion. With Albert's orders made clear, Han wasted no time, his voice thundering across the deck to see them carried out. "SIFRIT, KEDGE ANCHORS. THOMAN, LONGBOAT. GET US OUT OF THIS SCHEISSE!"

Sifrit shouted an affirmative, the officer taking off towards quarterdeck at a sprint while calling other men to his aid. The moorings were cast off, the unloaded goods still on the quay clean forgotten. The remaining sailors threw themselves at the gunports to latch onto the side of the ship. Around the deck, any sailors not manning the guns made for the capstan, and with practiced efficiency, the ropes to the kedge anchors were tied off around it and secured fast.

Connard de salope!

There was no time to find a tow now. Although it was far from ideal, kedging was the only choice they had. The Gespenst was far too large for oars, but she could still pull herself out by the kedge anchors in an emergency. Thoman's longboat dropped off the side with a heavy splash, the impact shuddering along the small vessel. Behind him, two lightweight anchors were thrown over the side, and Thoman hauled the rope to pull them into the longboat. Another shout, and the men in the boat began to row, powering along the water with deep strokes to drop the anchors into the bay as far away as they could.

Han watched only long enough to see the kedge anchors drop into the long boat, before he was rounding on the next set of men. Half letting go of the shroud, Han dangled over the deck, holding onto the rope with only one hand and foot as support. It wasn't a fight yet, but he sure as hell didn't want the men caught unprepared if it turned into one. "MARINES. READY ARMS."

He knew what Albert was trying to do, and all he could do was pray the man had lost none of his touch. Given their frigate, normally they would have to wait for a vessel to tow them into the bay, and then set their sails once they were well clear of the surrounding ships in the port. As it stood, the only option was to set sails almost immediately once they were far enough from the quay. In the hands of any other captain with a ship this size, it was asking to crash into an anchored ship, or into the quay itself.

Then again, Albert was no ordinary Captain. And thank God for that.

Satisfied the orders were being followed, Han grabbed hold of the shroud again, climbing towards the mizzen top. Below him, there was a roar and a grind as the capstan began to turn, pulling the ship forward. The quay began to separate from the Gespenst, and Han looked down to see the ocean moving underneath him.

"HANDS PREPARE TO SET AND STRIKE THE SPANKER! PREPARE TO HAUL HEADS'L SHEETS. TOPSMEN ALOFT, PREPARE TO SET TOPS'L'S," he roared. It was Albert's job now to man the helm to keep them straight as they hauled themselves free. The sails couldn't be set until they were far enough way, but the millisecond the orders came, Han was going to make damn sure the crew was ready to sheet them home. "LET GO BUNTL'NS, EASE THE CLEWL'NS."

Han was quick, moving through the ropes as though he'd been born to it. Scampering up the futtock shroud on the mizzen mainmast, Han swung past the topmast shrouds and onto the top itself. His feet once again landing on a stable platform with a thud, he cast a quick glance along the deck sprawled out below — at the men rapidly turning the capstan to pull them away from the quay, the men swarming up the shrouds like ants on every mast, rushing to prepare to drop the topsails, and the men on the deck, ferrying up balls and powder and priming the culverins.

There was a click as Han fished at his belt for his telescope. Extending it to his full length, he aimed it square at the Black Talon to keep an eye on her while Albert held them steady, just in case her guns began to turn in their direction. He looked over briefly, throwing a quick glance at the sad fate of the Southern Wind. Getting underway was the most dangerous part, and the last thing they needed was the Black Talon deciding they were a threat and turning on them before they'd braced their sails. The Gespenst was the next largest ship in the bay, and her magnificent black and white paintwork didn't exactly help for subtlety in broad daylight.

The Black Talon.

What were they doing here? And more importantly, why?
This message was last edited by the player at 11:43, Mon 20 Nov 2017.

Everything was going mad.

Albert didn't want her leaving his side, but Carmen was nothing if not headstrong.  She headed out with Johann and watched the bevy of action, Everything was... anchors were being tossed, and spankers were being striked, and.... "Sail for the good memory of our homeland!" Carmen chimed in, in an effort to buoy spirits and remind the crew of her presence and vigilance.  People wanted to do well when pretty women were watching them, in Carmen's experience, and if she could give the crew even a little bit of a push, just a little more impetus to do what they needed to do to, uh... kedge anchors and thoman longboats, then that's what she wanted to do!

The alternative was, what, offer them favors?  Neither Han nor Albert would appreciate that.  Carmen was positive there.

Panache (2) + Sailing (1) + Flair (1)
03:05, Today: Jacob Carnavon rolled 34 using 4d10 ((10,9,8,7))
3 Raises!

Jacob took a short breath to assess the situation before he sprang aboard the undermanned Southern Wind

"As Theus calls, so must we respond.". It wasn't clear if he was counseling himself, praying or calling to the crew.

He wasn't much of a sailor and only afair soldier. The combined experience told him doing nothing was an awful plan.

"Right, you lot! Time to honor our Creator by saving yourselves! Half of you get us moving and the other half man what guns you can!*

1 Raise there or 2?

Jacob grabbed a confused seaman, "Turn to, lad!" he barked before lowering his voice to ask, "First, where's the duty officer?"

Jacob followed the young man's gesture with his eyes. He clapped the sailor on the back and looked to the open water, "Right we're underway. Now to formulate a plan."

Jacob strode off in the direction the sailor had indicated, calling encouragement to crew as he went.

'That's it men! Put your backs into!" Every ship he'd been on he'd heard that a lot. Couldn't hurt.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:48, Mon 20 Nov 2017.

I think the issue here is what you want/expect your Approach to do. Too many things it seems like to me: take command, rally the troops, get the ship under way AND man the guns and fire them.

Jacob can't really take command amid the chaos, regardless of whether he's a stranger or not. The crew is pretty much condition to obey orders of a superior office, which Jacob is at least acting like, but the cannon fire has done a lot of damage to the ship already, including kill some of the crew, so Jacob isn't going to be override the current sense of panic that's set in. It would have taken at least two raises to do that.

One of the masts had been hit about halfway up, and it's hanging down. It would have to be cut away before the rest of the sails could be unfurled.

The sailor Jacob asks about the duty officer points to a crushed body against the starboard rail.

"That's the captain," he says, and only then does the horror of the situation seem to sink in to him.

"ABANDON SHIP! ABANDON SHIP!" he begins yelling out as he heads for the starboard side that's against the dock.

It finally sinks in to Jacob that there are only 8 crew left, even as the pirate cannons fire again. There's no way they can get the ship under way... raise the anchor, cast off the lines, unfurl the sails... (3 Raises! with a skeleton crew.)

As if the remaining crew understands this, they rush to the guns below deck. It takes three crew per gun, so they will only be able to operate 2 of the guns.

Jacob can see the pirate ship about a hundred yards off the port side of the Southern Wind.

In order to turn a ship as quickly as possible, there's an old sailor's trick--get up to speed as quickly as you can, then drop the anchor on the side that you want to turn to, then cut the anchor loose.

If you survive the encounter here, though, you can send a diver down to retrieve the anchor.

What is your approach to the Black Talon going to be? Are you going to try to broadside it (3 Raises), come along beside it and board (4 Raises), or fire a broadside at its bow (2 Raises)?

I will leave the orders up to our dear Captain and squeeze this in quickly <3

In a day already full of the unexpected, it seemed the Mistress of Fate wasn't quite done with surprises. Han lowered his spyglass to scowl into the distance, and with a pang of shock, spotted a pale hand reaching up over the mizzen top.

"Carmen!"

She must have climbed up the ratlines after him. Dropping his position immediately, Han reached for her hand, helping to pull his sister up over the last leg of the top to join him. His expression was wrought in shock, and for a moment, he didn't know whether or not to yell at her or laugh. She was either incredibly brave, or incredibly stupid to try and follow, but damn, would he be lying if he said he didn't feel a sudden surge of pride. "Careful, we've nearly got—"

A glance down at the ship showed the kedge anchors had been reached. Cutting himself off with a pang, Han glanced back up at the Southern Wind, then grabbed a hold of Carmen, pulling her in close.

"HOIST THE JIB, HAUL OUT THE SPANKER! BRAIL UP AND STAND OUT!"

There was a flurry of movement as the large sail behind them extended, teams of men on the deck beneath them hauling ropes to send the large square sail to the end of the long boom extending towards the stern. Up ahead, midshipsmen echoed Han's order towards the forecastle, and the triangular frontmost sails at the end of the bowspit unfurled. The reason he'd grabbed Carmen immediately became obvious. The ship heeled, barely a few strakes as the early sails caught the wind, but the effect up in the mast was magnified as the top suddenly pitched beneath them, and the wind pushed the stern of the ship straight, whipping through both their hair.

"SHEET HOME TOPS'LS! HOIST TOPS'L YARDS!"

Wood groaned, echoing up the masts, as in unison the topsails on all three masts were dropped down before them, cracking in the wind with a deafening snap. Men on all sides of the ship began to haul on heavy ropes, and the ends of the sails were pulled down and tied. They billowed forward, and the ship gave a lurch, suddenly springing to life beneath them. Han had anticipated the movement and braced on his heel, holding Carmen tight.

They were away. Not at full sail, but any more would cost them precious manoeuvrability they couldn't afford to lose.

"Looks like your adventure didn't want to wait," Han joked darkly, with a stubborn, lopsided smile.

The sound of the next broadside roared across the bay. Choking white smoke filled the air, the thunder of cannonfire and exploding wood deafening even from here. Han raised the spyglass towards The Southern Wind, catching a quick sight of a man trying and failing to wrest control as the ship exploded to pieces around him, while men threw themselves over the gunwales. A second look over the Black Talon quickly eased suspicions that the ship might turn their guns to them next, and Han passed the spyglass to Carmen. He hadn't let go of her, as though he afraid she might go tumbling off the side if he dared.

"No attempt to hail!" Han shouted down towards Albert, who was on the deck beneath him manning the helm in the chaos. They were both Brotherhood ships. Surely that was unusual? "Gunports closed t'ward us! The brig's lost her main topmast and is taking water! Give us a plan, Captain!"
This message was last edited by the player at 22:59, Wed 22 Nov 2017.

A crude diagram of how the ships were oriented at the beginning of the scene. All 3 ships were pointing in the same direction, which was west. At this time of day, the wind is coming off the sea and blowing inland.

Not to scale...

    Black Talon >========>


                                                                     |
                                                                     | Wind direction
                                                                     \/
     Southern Wind >=======>         Gestpenst >========>
___________________________________________________________________________________________
   dock           dock         dock             dock                dock          dock


The Gestpenst had to move westward, and tack against the wind in order to clear the dock and move into an upwind position. Kedging would have been too time-consuming and have accomplished little in the way of movement.

While tacking, the Gestpenst would pass in front of the Black Talon's bow before it could move into the upwind position of its port side facing the Black Talon's port side.

Jacob slowed his pace for a step to survey the situation.

Half the crew had begun to scramble off Southern Wind for the docks at the midshipman's order to abandon ship.

Hate it though he did, Jacob had to admit it was good advice.

He looked toward the gunnel but caught the sound of the powder boys and gun crews shout below decks. Jacob quickly turned to the ladderwell and sprinted the distance, jumping down, one hand on the main deck.

"She's lost, lads - the rest of the crew has abandoned her. Come along now, all of you out and to the dock!" He shouted above the din.

Waving them forward and half throwing some of the younger powder monkies up the ladderwell, Jacob waited for the last of them to make the light before he cast around. HE grabbed the last gunner, "That everyone?"

"Johann, ready about!  We're going to cut her off!" Albert barked.  Trusting his second in command to understand his intent and handle things, he turned his attention back to the situation at hand.  The Southern Wind was dead in the water, another good volley or two and she'd doubtlessly slip beneath the waves.  If the crew had any sense, they'd abandon her to her watery grave, lest they join her.

Despite the severity of the situation, Albert couldn't help but smile.  God above, there was nothing more life affirming than a good naval battle!  There was just something about the smell of the powder, the screech of the timber, and the crash of the waves that just made a man feel alive.  Of course, one misstep on his part and that could all end quite rapidly...

Jacob's first 'order' had merely served to prompt the remaining crew to move a little faster as they went below decks to man the guns.

They couldn't help notice the condition of the ship, of course, but the full nature of the damage was probably beyond their comprehension at the moment. It also wasn't their responsibility, so they focused on what was their responsibility--firing the cannons!



10:40, Today: Dread Pirate Robert rolled 24,35 using 6d10,6d10 ((1,2,5,8,1,7,5,5,9,6,2,8)). (+1 to each die because they are an experienced and elite crew; +1 die due to Jacob's 'leadership'.)

First crew squad:
1(+1)+7(+1) = 1 Raise
1(+1)+8(+1) = 1 Raise
2(+1)+5(+1) = no Raise

It takes one Raise to roll out the gun, and then the squad fires. It hits the Black Talon and does 1 point of damage.

Second crew squad:
9(+1) = 1 Raise
6(+1)+2(+1) = 1 Raise
5(+1)+5(+1) = 1 Raise
8(+1) = no Raise

It takes one Raise to roll out the gun, and then the squad fires. It hits the Black Talon, and does 2 points of damage.

Albert's return shout came up loud and clear. A complex manoeuvre, given the tight spacing inside the bay, and Han had to quickly mutter a thanks to Theus for his foresight in only making way under their topsails. The plan — in theory — was to tack into the wind, turning their port side to leeward and putting the Black Talon directly off their port beam, opening her up for a potential broadside, or, at least, the very real threat of one. The Gestpenst, in turn, (and if Albert could time it correctly), should sit between one to three points off the Talon's port bow, ideally just out of ideal range of her guns.

Han cupped a hand around his mouth, the other still holding onto Carmen as a precaution. "READY ABOUT!" came the roar, echoing the Captains order in a booming thunder that cut to every inch of the deck. Most of the men were already in position, so the transition was flawless even by the impeccable standards of the Gestpenst. The last few hands returned to the braces, and cries of "Ready!" echoed back to Han's position on the mizzen top.

Albert didn't even need prompting. He knew his job better than most. Han felt the ship start to try and change her heading as Albert applied starboard rudder. "HAUL SPANKER AMIDSHIPS," came the shout, and behind them, the huge gaff supporting the spanker was turned towards the wind, increasing the wind pressure on the stern. The back was pushed away, forcing the Gespenst's bow to come about into the wind.

The creak and groan of wood was alive around them, and Han was alert, listening for the sound of the headsails. Sure enough, one of the sails cracked up ahead, now caught in the disrupted airflow. "SLACK OFF HEADS'L SHEETS," and together, "AFT LET GO! STEADY OUT THE BO'LINES!"

The reaction of the ship was immediate. The men on the main and mizzen masts released their hold on their weather braces. On the other side of the ship, the crew hauled, the wind helping to push the yards on both rear masts around. The wind was now firmly being taken up by the bow, and the ship turned, crossing around in front of the Black Talon and curling through the headwind and out on the other tack. The sails on the two back masts began to fill again, the sailcloth above them stretching tall. "BRACE AROUND FOR'ARD," came Han's shout, and the foremast was braced around to line up with the others, catching the new wind direction, and successfully completing the first part of manoeuvre.

Now they just had to stop in the right place. There were no orders here. No rigid timing, just feel. That was Albert's domain, and the man had a far better knack for it than Han did. Han had barely finished having the thought when Albert's voice rang up, giving the order to take in sail.

Above them, the topsmen were already getting to work. Han had barely gotten out the first word out in "HAUL THE CLEWLINS," before the sails were already being pulled to the yards. The staysails were taken in, and the jibs and spanker drawn back. Free of the wind pushing her forward, the Gespenst's huge bulk began to slow, edging her into position against the Black Talon, with Albert at the helm keeping her from straying as they drifted to a relative halt.

Below him, the men manning the guns held their breath.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:02, Tue 28 Nov 2017.

Jacob roared once the second cannon fired and positioned himself to block the path of one of the powder monkeys as he grabbed a gunner.

"Give it! She's lost lads - abandon ship!"

He pushed the gunner toward the ladderwell and steered the boy to follow.

Urging the rest of them out, Jacob bounded up the ladderwell behind the last of them. Once they reached the main deck the group of men and boys, followed by Jacob, sprinted across the listing deck and jumped to the dock.

Standing on the dock, his chest heaving, Jacob watched Southern Wind tip further abeam and shook his head. He grabbed one of the powder boys by the shoulder, "You - grab one of your mates there and go find you Master or Captain."

Jacob watched the remains of the crew for a moment, their eyes locked on the slow, inevitable demise of their ship, and turned toward DeChaine without additional comment. He had tried, for all the good it did, but he had tried.

He made his way back the central part of town and turned toward a row of shops that had offered some promising leads the previous day.

With only two guns manned and even though they'd hit, the Southern Wind's crew saw the futility of continuing the battle, as lopsided as it was.

At Jacob's direction, they quickly abandoned their positions and following Jacob up out of the gun deck and across the main deck. They'd barely reached the docks when another volley of guns from the pirate ship slammed into the Southern Wind. Another mast came crashing down but a solid hull hit shook the whole ship. Within seconds, the ship began listing to port.


As Jacob headed into town, a bit frustrated that he couldn't have done more, he heard the crashing sound coming from the chandlery. It wasn't in town, but along the docks. He'd just passed the alley behind it, and heard the noise coming from the large hole in the back of the shop.

He noticed a woman standing at the edge of the alley, in the shadows, apparently staring at something farther down the alley.

The one-sided sea battle continues, but not for long.

Even as Jacob hustles the remaining crew off the beleaguered Southern Wind, another broadside volley from the pirate ship crashes into the ship. At least one cannonball seems to have struck below the waterline, though, for the ship begins to list to port even more.


The pirate captain seems satisfied, for no further cannons are fired. He turns his attention to the Gestpenst. He seems to have no interest in tangling with the other ship, though, and has sails and rudder steer the ship away from it.

For a moment, both ships are broadside to each other--Black Talon's starboard side facing the Gestpenst's starboard side, as both ships are now going in different directions.