Brent Lockyer boarded the ship just in time; that last game had been a close one, and if not for the habits of drunken sailors he might have come on board a lot poorer.  As it stood he now had enough to pay his fare on the Queen of Normandy, with 22 francs, 110 rubles, 1 pound sterling, and 200 lire to the better, whatever that rolled out to in Normal Money.

Add to that, there was a woman up on the top deck of the cruise ship, a long cool one with jet black hair, a form that would make an angel fall from grace, and all of it dressed in ruby red silk and flashing diamonds.  This looked...promising.

The ship itself was a nice one, well-suited to someone who wanted to enjoy life.  A casino, plenty of decks to stroll along, well-appointed cabins and staterooms, and loads of swarthy little men in uniform waiting to hand him off drinks.  He could get used to this.

Brent was chuffed with himself - a fool and his money are some party! For a glimmering moment Brent felt a little bad for taking advantage of the sailors but they chose to drink but the big mistake was to buy into his double-bluff. Brent remembered the look on their faces and grinned, God he loved winning.

"My good man, could you show me to my cabin?" Brent had caught the attention of a crew member and was eager to ditch his bags and go searching for that lady in red. She looked so good that a well-behaved dog would break it's lead. Brent couldn't get her out his mind.

Brent's cabin was not a cheap one.  It had a portside view and a soft bed, a small desk and chair and a wardrobe.  It was far enough from the engines that it wasn't noisy or smoky, and all was right enough with his world.  "Dinner, Senor, at eight of the clock,"  his latest server said, another nameless swarthy man in a white uniform, who ably carried Brent's luggage.

He had a couple of hours to spend before dinner.

As he was putting his luggage into the wardrobe, he heard a shrill voice screeching a name over and over..."BERTIE !  BERTIE !" in a rage.  Finally it ended, for which he was grateful.

After bouncing on the bed - as everyone does in a new room - Brent got about sorting his luggage, especially which currency he'd used first. Then that name 'Bertie', his grandma used to call him that and to hear it again made the hairs stand up on the back of his neck, he hated it.

'It's Brent nan - Brent' He almost spat the 'T' as his gran sure that she used to wind him up on purpose. Thankfully he always beat her at her favourite card games, that used to make the day visiting his gran worth while.

Finishing his unpacking and opting for the francs, he could pretend he was well travelled and with knowing a little French this white lie would add to his 'charisma' Brent thought to himself. Once the lucky shirt was on and Brent thought he looked good he stepped out of his room heading for the casino, a quick hour before dinner couldn't hurt anyone. Brent crossed his fingers as he made his way to the casino, hoping not to run into Bertie or the owner of that shrill iritating voice at any point on this trip, although it was almost inevitable.

Brent trotted along to the casino, brushing past a polished, dark-haired man in a plain black suit as he entered.  It was small, but everything he needed was there.  The poker table was empty, but two passengers were playing at Roulette, and three at Baccarat.  No one really stood out in here, apart from the tiny fluffball of a poodle that was wagging its ridiculously poofed tail at him.

"Moof !  Miff !"  the dog yapped, apparently delighted to see him.

Brent wasn't a man to stroke dogs but the cute thing did bring a little grin, definately taking his attention from the guy walking into him, Brent hated that. The clink of the Roulette ball drew Brent like a moth to the flames, it was a quick easy game that he could walk away from for dinner. Nodding politely to the other two playing he turned to the croupier 'Could I have a few francs worth of chips, thank you? Could you make them the winners as well?

The croupier, a serious-looking fellow, replied in accented English. "Here you are, Monsieur,"  and gave Brent a few franc's worth of chips...the lowest denomination of chips, and a tiny stack it was.  "As for luck, that you must bring with you."  The plump lady in grey tweed smiled at him, and placed a small stack of ten-Franc chips onto number 17, while the other man, a thin-faced fellow in a brown suit, departed the table. The first time the wheel spun, she lost and Brent lost.  The second time, she lost, and Brent doubled his money. The third time, she won, and Brent lost.

"That's my luck, today,"  she said happily, scooping up her chips. The little poodle responded to her happy tone and barked excitedly.

'Congratulations madam, I'm sure I will see you again before the journey is through, my name is Brent.' Brent was a man taught to be polite and it came as second nature. 'I have no-one to go to dinner with, would it be rude to invite myself onto your table?'

The lady picked up her poodle too, its poofy tail thumping on her side.  She was the image of middle-aged well-being.  And the string of pearls she wore was tasteful, and expensive.  "Thank you, young man,"  she said.  "My name is Mrs. Elizabeth Waters, but do call me Liza, everyone does.  I would be delighted if you would share my table...I have just enough time to dress before dinner.  It's table 17.  See you there !"  Dimpling prettily, she went out.

Alwysa good to get to know gamblers, hopefully she didn't just play roulette, a game of poker might remove her of some money that she clearly had enough of! Brent grinned to himself, this was going to be a good cruise. Brent now had enough to do a lap of the boat to get himself accustomed to the ship and keep an eye out for that lady in red. Then to dinner with Liza and her undoubtable wealthy friends!

Brent strolled around the ship's deck, noting that it seemed to be a well-run
ship.  The lady in red was nowhere to be seen, but a few middle-class couples
were strolling along contentedly.

Dinnertime came along, and he was perfectly groomed for it.  He spotted table
17 instantly, the handsome Liza Waters wearing a shining blue gown with a
white silk wrap.  She was chatting pleasantly with the other two at her table,
a white-whiskered bald man with a monocle and a thin-faced woman in green,
with grey hair piled up under an expensive gold comb, no doubt the man's wife.

 "Oh, it is Mr. Brent Lockyer," Mrs. Waters said, "Mr. Lockyer, please meet
Mrs. and Colonel Davidson-Heartly.  The Colonel served in India."
"Pleased to hmeet hyou,"  The Colonel said, plummy English Uppercrust accent
hard enough to cut ice.  "Delighted,"  murmured the wife, politely.

'May I first thank you for sharing your table, I do detest travelling alone and dinner time is such a social event for me.' Brent was on form, oozing charm as he settled into his seat ordering the table a relatively expensive but top quality bottled of red wine. Brent kept up the polite small talk as well as keeping a keen eye for that red dress. It was becoming an obsession.

"We're happy to have you, Mr Lockyer,"  Liza Waters said sweetly. They chattered pleasantly enough about the weather (splendid) and the ship (quality).  Then he saw Her.

She was easing into the dining room on the arm of a man in uniform, with epaulettes and suchlike in gold, and she was wearing a silk wine-red gown and black diamonds, her impossibly black gleaming hair put up with more diamond-dressed combs.  He caught her smile; it was a siren's call.  They walked on towards the Captain's table, since the man escorting her was the captain himself.  After a while, Brent felt someone gently patting his arm.  It was Liza Waters, a mischievous smile on her face.  "She's the Baroness von Schoen,"  she whispered.  "She's very rich, if those gems are any indication.  She dances, so you can try to meet her after dinner.  I'll foxtrot you over to her and then, my lad, it's up to you."

'I'm sorry, was i being that obvious.' Brent flushed a little red with embaressment. 'Do you know the Baroness, or do you just know of her?' Brent was getting lost in his own imagination. If she was a Baroness there was probably a Baron Brent thought to himself, but then she had smiled at him.

"Oh, she's the sort of woman who people find out about," replied Liza Waters lightly. "Came on in Italy, in Brindisi."
"A Hun," grumped the Colonel.
"Now, dear," soothed Mrs. the Colonel, whose name was Daphne.
"Well, we've all passed a lot of water since then,"  Liza Waters said, and changed the topic back to the safer climes of travel and entertainment.

Brent chatted away with the table about his life in America and the Colonel's many posting. Brent had a lot of time for the Colonel, he was so British. If the Colonel was car, Brent was the convertible essentially the same but Brent had that little extra. As the dinner came to a close Brent waited for the offers of brandy and cigar with the Colonel or a Foxtrot over to the Baroness. Having been on his game all night Brent started to worry about what to say and do infront of her. The meal now tasted like butterflies in his stomach.

The Colonel and Mrs. the Colonel were indeed charming, in their uppercrusty
way, and had some interesting stories of India to relate.  "I do say, you
remind me of someone,"  The Colonel said to Brent. "Charming chap, quite the
outdoorsman.  Guide, tracker and all-round hunter, he was though, but you
have style, just as he did.  James Hornsby.  Good man.  Went tiger hunting
with him and my old school-chum Harrison Blakely-Smythe, smashing good time.
Bagged the biggest tiger ever seen in the district, old devil that had been
hunting children."

Dinner was fine indeed, and the band that began to play for the dancing was
also very good.  The Captain asked the Baroness to dance, and Liza remarked,
"No time like the present !" and got Brent to the dance floor.

Liza Waters proved to be a capable dancer, and despite Brent's butterflies,
delivered him within asking distance of the long, cool Baroness just as the
dance finished up, and another was on the way.  "Oh, Good evening to you,
Captain Douglas !"  she warbled delightedly, and took the man's arm so that
he would relinquish the Baroness.

He was taken by the eyes again.  They were a blue, or a violet, large and
gemlike.  She smiled and spoke. "Ah, Monsieur,"  she said, in very good
French, with only a trace of a German accent.  "We meet.  You are ?"

'Brent, would you do me the great honour of dancing with me,' In a flash Brent's nerves disappeared as he took the Baroness onto the dance floor. The feet were moving well and the polite small talk was on form, polite at all times but a little bit risque when possible. What a fantastic day Brent was having, some winnings at poker earlier and now aboard this fantastic ship, dancing next to the woman of his dreams - he loved the European accent.

The Baroness laughed, a low musical sound. "Vell, 'Brent', if it is a -very- great honor..."  she glided along with him to the dance floor.  The slender waist under his one hand was sleek steely muscle, and the hand holding his had some callouses on it, along the palm and forefinger.  The Baroness was athletic, it seemed.  She was also a wonderful dancer.

Brent was in a dream, slowly losing himself to the dance and the elegant women with him. Holding the Baroness as close as possible without pushing the boundaries too far, he gave out all the signals that he knew and was waiting for some subtle replies. A wrong placed dance step that might bring them closer together for a fleeting moment, that's all Brent was asking for just a sign that she liked him as much as he liked her.

The Baroness had a smile that would warm any man's heart, but there was a remoteness in the sapphirine eyes.  Brent's careful misstep put him in contact with her form - surprisingly strong - but all he won was an amused look.  The dance seemed to have lasted forever, and also an instant, for it was suddenly over and the music had stopped.

"You are not a half-bad dancer, Brent,"  said the beautiful Baroness, stepping back and adjusting one earring full of gems that would buy a small country.  "Perhaps I vill dance with you, again."  It seemed it would not be easy to win the Baroness, yet she gave him another dazzling smile.  The Captain had evaded the grasp of Liza Waters and reclaimed the Baroness, escorting her away with a very jealous look delivered to Brent.

"Liza, may I thank you for such a polite introduction to the Baroness, although the Captain doesn't seem too amused. Brent was walking on clouds as he joined Liza on the dancefloor, one must remain in sight for just a little longer, Brent thought. After dancing with Liza Brent made a slightly exaggerated gesture of goodbye to his table, making sure the Baroness would spot his departure and left the dining room. Not heading anywhere, Brent just strolled, sucking in the sea air and then that of a cigar.

Liza's merry eyes twinkled as she smiled. "Oh, you're quite welcome, Brent.  Best of luck." She cheerfully returned to her table, where the British couple seemed to be eagerly awaiting the news of how Brent had fared.

He could not catch the eye of the Baroness again, not that he was aware of, but the cool air outside was refreshing.  A young couple were kissing at the fantail, and a lad of about 10 was hurrying along the deck, a white cockatiel on his shoulder.  The boy was wearing a pirate's eyepatch and flourishing a sword made of wood painted silver, and clearly having a fun time being a pirate.  On the lower deck, Brent saw a couple of sailors sharing a smoke; both were blonde, and were conversing in what was unmistakeably German.  The deck was otherwise deserted.

Then an odd thing happened, along the starboard side; two men carrying something rolled in a carpet, quickly threw the carpet and whatever was inside overboard, and then hurried away out of sight. They gave no sign of noticing Brent; the couple at the fantail would not have noticed a bomb going off next to them, and the boy had just gone down the steps to the lower deck, where the sailors were.

Brent made sure he hadn't been spotted before rushing to look overboard. Curiosity had always got the better of him but the incident was too strange to turn a nose up at. Brent had left his revolver in his room, who would dine with a gun and lucky that he didn't given the dance with the baroness. How embarressing could that have been! Brent thought to himself. Looking overboard Brent tried his best to make out whatever had been in the carpet.

Brent rushed to the side and looked down, in time to see a grisly sight.  A huge pale grey and white shark, its curved mouth full of daggerlike teeth, was
ripping at the carpet and wrenching something out of it, in a splash of red
blood - half a human body, the legs, clad in white trousers.  Then it was gone,
and the rest of the carpet sinking quickly in a red haze on the water.

Brent had no idea what to do, first thing was to get his revolver from his room. If there was people getting killed onboard Brent din't want to be unarmed. On his was to his room Brent struggled on a plan of action. Brent could tell the Captain, but what would he do? Brent thought through the scene is his head, trying to remember something about the two men, something to identify them. That way if he saw them again Brent could try and find out what was going on. Brent didn't like things 'going on', especially not when on vacation!

Brent looked around; the only ones on deck now were the two sailors on the lower deck, who were talking to the boy with the bird, and the couple, who were still engrossed in a public display of affection.  He hurried to his room and got his firearm, and went looking for the two men.

The dining hall was just beginning to empty; he saw table 17 was having some after-dinner cordials, much like other tables.  The gambling salon had five men and two women in it, and the parlour had a collection of children watching a puppet show.

(roll spot hidden, Brent !  % roll)

OOC: sorry about the delay !

Brent did not notice anything unusual.  It seemed he was the only one on the ship that had noticed the strange event.

Some more diners were leaving the dining room now, chattering away unconcernedly; he saw the Baroness walking along the deck, escorted by the Captain.

"Hello ?  Has anyone seen my boy, Michael ?  He has a cockatiel, and he was playing Pirate -"  a middle-aged woman in a blue dress is speaking about twenty feet away, asking a well-dressed elderly couple about the boy Brent had seen earlier.

OOC: don't worry about it - i got confused with the dice rolling!

Someone onboard knew what was going on, that was for certain, and Brent gambled that they would stay onboard til the next port of call. Brent had no idea when they were due to dock but at least it gave him some time to find out what was going on. At least Brent could do some good for the time being approaching the worried mother. 'Excuse me, I saw a young boy dressed as a pirate on deck a few minutes ago - I'm sure I saw him heading to the lower decks. I can show you where I last saw him if you like.'

The baroness could wait thought Brent, not wanting to seem to keen and also Brent wanted a good excuse to revisit the deck without it seeming a bit odd. If anyone had noticed him, he didn't want to reveal that he had as well. Playing ignorant had served Brent well in the past. People can say and do careless things when they think they're not being watched. At the moment Brent was trying to watch everyone.

"Oh, thank you !" the woman in the blue dress said, and hurried that way, toward the two sailors on the lower deck.

Brent had a talent for noticing people; he did notice something unusual.  The Baroness had glanced down to the lower deck, and the two sailors had looked back at her; one had brushed at his shirt.  Then she went on her way with the Captain.

Brent followed the lady to the lower decks not watching where she was heading, instead Brent was watching the sailors. It was too bizarre an exchange they had had with the Baroness. Brent sensed something was going on and somehow he'd got stuck in the middle of it, somehow he always got caught in the middle of things. Brent didn't like things going on, especailly not when it involved dead bodies and sharks. The Baroness was too enchanting to be innocent but that was the least of Brent's worries at the moment he just wanted to keep up with those sailors and without them noticing!

Down on the lower deck, the boy was found to be climbing into a lifeboat, apparently set on captaining his own vessel.  There was indeed something going on.  The two German sailors sloped off toward the engine room, if he had to guess, going through a hatch into the interior of the ship.  If Brent wanted to follow, a "sneak" roll would be needed, to escape notice. (%)

Brent followed, intuition didn't bring you this far for you to just give up - he'd seen something get eaten and knowing that his fate might be the same if he got caught Brent backed himself. His gun was hidden but close to hand and if he got into trouble gun-fire would surely bring help. Making sure the mother and kid were okay and heading back to the main deck Brent continued to follow the sailors.

OOC  Brent Lockyer rolled 3 using 1d100. Sneak.

Brent snuck inside and flattened himself out alongside a cabinet as he saw an extremely unsettling sight.  One of the German sailors had what looked like a machine pistol, and he was handing it over to another sailor.  No one had spotted Brent yet.

Brent checked for his revolver, still in its holster and ready to be brought into action if needed. Brent hated sneeking around but its was clear these two sailors were just pawns for someone else and Brent wanted to know who. The Baroness knew these men somehow, whether it be through the Captain or some uncoincidental reason. Brent would continue to follow the sailor who now had the gun as far as he could. If spotted he was prepared to fire if fired upon.

Too much was happening on-board. Brent wanted to be on holiday and in the casino not lurking around the dirty lower decks. Brent wanted a quick resolution to this, but was guessing it wouldn't be that easy!

It looked like even more would be happening here in the hold...the Hun was passing out more machine-pistols, and they were chattering in German.  Then five of them, all armed, began to head toward the doorway, not far from where Brent was hiding.  It looked like mutiny was in the offing...

And indeed, he heard gunshots out on deck, and a scream.

Brent hope that the sailors would just walk past, after all he'd found quite a good hiding spot. Brent squeezed himself even tighter to reduce the chance of being seen as the sailor left. Once they were out of the hold, he'd have aquick snoop around. Try and look for some other clues before returning on deck. If only he could speak German - he wouldn't need clues - although Brent was sure he'd heard some names mingled in with the rest of he gibberish they were speaking.

Brent managed to hide from the first sailor, who was putting a fresh clip into his machine pistol, but the second one saw him instantly and raised his weapon.  "HANDS UP !"  The sailor snarled, and then Brent had four more pistols pointing at him.  Someone patted him down, finding the revolver and taking it away, and he was marched out onto the deck.

He saw a horrible sight as he came out of the hold - the Captain, his white jacket splattered with blood, falling from the top deck railing to the lower deck in a horrible thud.  Up on the top deck, her lugers trailing wisps of smoke, the Baroness stood smiling an evil smile.

The next few minutes were full of incident.  Brent was herded toward the lifeboats, where other passengers were already being set out to sea. The other passengers were upset, frightened.  Other mutineers were setting up tall torches, ablaze with yellow light, all along the ship railings.  Brent caught a wave from one small boat already at sea - it was Liza Waters, trying to get him to jump.  And, indeed, as some of the passengers decided to object, the machine pistols ratcheted to life and sprayed bullets at them.

These guys didn't mind killing, that was clear from the Captain and the earlier body and Brent had no intention of getting killed. Nor did he have any intention of jumping in the lifeboat, firstly it was doubtful if he's make it and that shark was probably still lurking about. Secondly, that German sailor had his gun - which Brent was more than fond of - and thirdly that evil smile the Baroness gave was too attractive for Brent not to do something. She may be a murderer but she was a pretty hot murderer. "Baroness - you promised me another dance. If I leave now, we may never see each other again?" Brent shouted out. Staying on-board would also give Brent a chance to find out what was happening as opposed to floating off in a lifeboat.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:40, Sun 20 Feb 2005.

Brent was shoved along toward the railing, and the last thing he heard before they tipped him over into the water was the silvery peals of laughter from the lethal Baroness.  Other passengers were flailing around in the water, and he heard Liza Waters' shout clearly.  "Get out of the water Brent, there's sharks !"

He saw a woman suddenly go under, and the grey fin of another shark cutting the surface all too close.  His luck held and he was at the boat, being hauled on board by Liza, a teenage girl in a red gown, and a wet and unhappy teenage boy in his pyjamas.  The Colonel and his wife were in another boat, rescuing a fat man in tweed, and then they were rowing away from the captured ship.

The ship steamed away, leaving about forty passengers in lifeboats.  The sharks bumped and nudged the boats, having taken a few people in the water and still looking for more.  "There, out there !"  The colonel called, pointing.  "Another ship ! Row, men, row !"

"Here, Brent, take this oar, I'll row with Bertie,"  Liza said, and the three of them struggled to get the small boat moving.  After a tense half-hour, they were in sight of a small liner, named Queen of Emerald Bay, which was sending down ropes and boats to help get them aboard, rescued from the ocean.  Soon Brent was standing on board and taking a cup of strong, hot coffee.

The bullhorn cracked to life; the Captain spoke, first in Spanish, then French, then English, from the top deck.  "Ladies and gentlemen, and crew,"  he said, "We have taken aboard some unfortunate people who will be travelling with us to our port of call.  Please welcome them."

<Brent, you'll now be in "Queen of Emerald Bay" thread.>