Prepare for the #LodanRespawn2024 Existing characters may choose to be displace from/have memories of different timelines, thereby allowing returning members the option to retcon their whole character. These changes are the result of the "Unnatural Fog" plot device that is running between now and the Respawn. The plot is simple: no matter where your character is, that place is shrouded in a thick fog that suspends time, but not thoughts or memories, so even if they're repeating the same day over and over again, they continue to remember, so each time feels like a new day. For those retconning OCs; this is where new versions of themselves have the opportunity to replace the old versions. Official lore and tree updates will be announced asap
The sails unfurled and the anchor chain clicked as it was hoisted back onto its dry mechanical wheel. A whistle was blown from the crows nest - Probably Ikuze Storm - and the ship lurched forward, caught on the tide and slowly pulling from the pier.
Caitlin began by saying "The Dauntless is small, fast, and maneuverable, which means it could drive circles around a larger vessel, but if it managed to get hit, it'd pretty much be crippled from there out. That's why corvette class ships have long cannons (small caliber but good accuracy and range) allowing us to engage adversaries at maximum range." As she spoke she walked her new acquaintances up to the helm to get a good look at the ship as she divulged this information.
"Usually the Dauntless is deployed as a transport ship, to unload loot and sell to neighboring countries where we won't be arrested for hawking stolen goods." The briny air whipped past their faces filling up the sails, picking up speed and tugging them further out on the blue ocean. "She's a corvette class ship, which means she's a poor combatant against a single Ship of the Line on her own. A poor match, but not an impossible one..." The look on Caitlin's face expressed how important that last bit of information was.
"Good thing too, since we've had a little trouble lately with Sveden's privateers cutting in on our trade routes and stealing some of our customers." Their trial, though they didn't know it yet, would be to pull off a successful dogfight at sea. With the superior might of the Sveds. "Mr. Uriah, I expect you to get extra creative with that eager mind of yours for whats coming. Thrak- your seamanship will come greatly in handy, I hope you'll put it to good use. If not. We're all dead. Welcome, to your trial boys...Survive this, and you'll be welcome to the Brotherhood of Rogues too."
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
Promptly the man followed the Baroness to the helm of the ship, allowing 'Thraka' to pass in front of him. Still he caught the details of the conversation without to much trouble but as the vessel began to pick up some speed there was more than a slight stumble before he raised his hand in front of his face, attempting to block the rays of the sun from his eyes and in an act of vanity to protect his hair from getting messed up. This was definitely something he was going to have to adjust to...
It would come to be that the Dauntless was built for speed and outrunning or catching up to other ships that have little to no defenses or have already been crippled to the point of a no contest, he would also have to come to the conclusion that there was a possible chance that the Dauntless against an unknowing vessel would be capable of boarding before they could mount an offensive against it. Just Uriah thought even that would be very difficult unless the weather played heavily in their favor and he assume the blue haired individuals scouting was top notch.
The moment Caitlin finished speaking either from the cold air or perhaps what she was expecting of the two caused a shiver to move down his spine and his expression slightly changed to show that he was growing a little uncomfortable. Having to put the lives of those aboard the vessel in the hands of two new individuals seemed like an act of suicide but possible one of the best scouting advertisements he had ever come across, if only he could get people to pledge their life to buying new cologne. "You have quite the faith in us Baro-.. I assume Captain is more appropriate at this point yes?"
Taking in a deep breath he nodded his head and covered his eyes for a single moment. "Very well. I'm countin' on you then." He turned his turned and body to face Thraka and outstretched his arm, wanting to give the man a friendly shake before he chuckled lightly and laughed. "If I die, search my corpse for coupons.. I've got quite a lot." There was nothing better than to start off something dangerous with a joke, perhaps it was a show of confidence mixed with a little bit of 'why did I wake up today' feeling. Now just taking the available time to go over his thoughts and the information he was given overall and how he can provide any assistance among the ship, of course he could lift and man the weapons but being most likely his first actual trip to sea it was more than a bit intimidating. Not that he expected his manner of death to be drowning but the thought of most likely exploding if he was hit directly by a cannonball.
Post by Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson on Aug 13, 2015 11:35:52 GMT
Thrakazog wasn't exactly sure how he got to the helm. Later, he would figure his feet took him, as they were wont to do, but ever since the song, and his realization that he was standing before the living legend, the Queen of Rogues - no longer a fictional character of stories, but a living, breathing, person - his jaw had gone slack and his brain had gone numb. It wasn't until Uriah turned to him and stretched his arm out to give a friendly shake that Thrakazog 'snapped out of it'. When he did, the flood of information that he'd heard without processing it, came crashing in all at once and kept him from laughing along with the man.
There was some gratitude in the wide-eyed look he gave Uriah though. It largely came from the understanding that he wasn't alone, he wasn't dreaming all of this, and he was sharing the experience with someone else. It was confirmation that he wasn't washed ashore on some remote, deserted island, and suffering a combination sunstroke and dehydration. And then he felt the breeze from the sea upon his weathered face, and started to feel like this situation was okay after all. It was still surreal, but starting to be 'okay', anyway.
Fortunately, Thrakazog's many years at sea meant that the rock of the ship came naturally to him. He didn't have to develop 'sea legs' to compensate for the gentle bobbing of the corvette, as he already had them. His grey eyes squinted as he began to look around him - to see where the ship's weapons were, where the sails were, the rigging and tools, the fire-fighting equipment. The first mate would likely have someone show them the specifics, but it was just natural instinct for him to look around for himself. Most safety features of a vessel were typically located in or near the same places on all similar-sized ships. It was like knowing the fire escape route in a building, or where the first aid kit was near a kitchen.
Inevitably though, Thrakazog's eyes wandered back to the woman who'd brought him on board - the Queen of Rogues. He still couldn't quite believe this was all happening to him - that this was all real. If she was who she said she was, then his life was about to go from mundane to interesting. Had he really just signed on to be a rogue - to be a pirate? He had just been looking for work! His own nickname was a reference to an obscure tale of a sea monster - given to him by his first captain and crew because of his size. But stories were told about the Thrakazog, not him. In this case, stories were told about the Queen - about HER. And there she was.
He finally found his voice, even though it cracked a little bit from drying out while his mouth had hung open. "Ummm... whatchoo want Thrak to do?" On the last ship, he'd done rigging, hauling, swabbing... whatever needed doing. He figured he'd be put to that tasks again. But before that happened, he had the wherewithal to ask, "Does da Dauntless have an engine?"
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Aug 14, 2015 23:19:34 GMT
"Captain, if you please," She replied to Uriah without missing a beat. She turned her attention to Thrak just as Uriah did when he made his lighthearted joke. The crew were busy getting them underway and well out to sea. The shore was sinking fast into the distance, and the freeing feeling of escaping Lodan's societal shackles came over her. At Thrak's two simple questions she gave a quizzical look.
"An engineer I take it? Well I'm afraid you'd find our sky harbor more to your liking in that case. Most of our mechanically endowed vessels are cloud surfers, not sea splinters like this one. However..." and her eyes lit up with a secret kind of mischief. "Ever see one of those Grecian Masian Galley ships? With the manual rows?" Her eyebrows came up as she paused and awaited his recognition.. or not. Etiher way she continued. "We don't stockpile slaves to man the waterline and rows the ship, but when we're against the wind we turn out the mechanized assembly of oars and crank them all as one using the ingenuity of one of our mech's who discovered he had a fear of heights. Not all of our vessels are equipped that way - but just so happens this one is." If he was interested - she'd send him down to that level to see and learn the mechanism for himself. She just couldn't accompany him. One hand on one of those wheels, cranks, or joysticks and she'd break a piece gear or cog thereby ruining the device entirely.
She admired the technology for what it was, but she had to do so at a fair distance.
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
Shivered at the thought of having to manually row a ship of this caliber across an ocean would seem near unbearable by even a large group of people, perhaps the darker days of slavery made him happy to exist in a moderately welcoming society. However the tech talk that followed wasn't of that much interest to him directly but it was still very important to keep in mind at this point in time. It was better that Uriah didn't make his way down below deck in fear of disrupting the mechanical aspects of the ship just by 'hanging around'.
"Bar-... Captain." The man took a moment to correct himself as it was going to take some time to get used to this, even if he was able to play off a rather decent demeanor things were still moving a little to fast for him today. One moment trying to sell someone a dress or a new pair of shoes and now he's aboard a vessel with a Queen (at least in title anyway) having to prove himself in such a way to well, not kill him at the end of all of this.
Uriah himself was not an expert on ships of any sorts and only knew some mildly general knowledge even about the whole subject and as far as it came to being a pirate he hadn't ever directly stolen from someone. Just a few forged documents or some cash owed on the side that he had someone else collect made things much easier in his life, but now hopefully Caitlin didn't have any intention on throwing him on boarding duty where he could acquire a few new scars.
"I too have some questions about the Dauntless and these privateers we're going after.. First being the ammunition you keep on board the vessel if there are an assortment of variety. Secondly.. Just -some- customers? I figured if we're going to engage them in what I assume to be a fair amount of property damage it would be more than just a handful of customers." Uriah tried to pry a little into not only the reasoning but also the type of work he would be further expecting in the future, while also trying to be mildly humorous that pirates would care about property damage he did hope it wouldn't be taken in poor taste."
"Lastly, if our friend here is more interested in the fine tuning of machinery what could I do to assist you directly?" Not exactly sure of what she would even have him do it was easier to be direct to the point instead of standing around as though he was free-loading a nice ride and perhaps a gift or two at the end of all of this.
Post by Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson on Aug 16, 2015 16:41:43 GMT
Thrakazog was utterly captivated by the woman's words, but it wasn't the pretty shape of her lips or the smile of her well-formed teeth and tongue that held his eyes (though they certainly could have if he thought he had half a chance with a woman of her caliber!) Instead, it was the words themselves that told him of wondrous places - sky harbor? He knew there were ships that flew, but he'd only ever seen them over a city skyline. He couldn't imagine the wondrous mechanics that made such vessels viable means of transport.
But then she followed those incredible images with words describing an ocean-bound vessel - the Masian Galley ship. He knew those - had even served a brief stint on one swabbing the deck - but the Baroness went on to describe the oar-rowing mechanism, and all thoughts of the sky were back-burnered in his mind. If there was such a mechanism here, then he just had to see it. He couldn't even believe he was being offered such an opportunity! When he woke up this morning, his thoughts had been solely on finding new employment, putting food in his ample belly, and finding a place to sleep that didn't have bugs. Now, here he was on a pirate ship, with a mechanized rowing system, under the employ of the formerly fictitious Queen of Rogues! There had to be a catch, he thought, but at the same time he prayed there wasn't one.
It was probably rare that someone heard a deep baritone voice breathless with childlike anticipation. "Youz will let Thrak see da rowing machine??"
The last ship he'd been on had a simple steam engine to aid the vessel when the seas were calm, or when it had to navigate tight spots or ports. But he had never been allowed to touch it. He was big and swarthy, and that captain, like most others, had better ways to utilize his size and strength than on the intricacies of mechanics.
Still... Thrakazog wasn't born yesterday. He paused long enough to ask tentatively, "What Thrak have to do in return?"
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Aug 29, 2015 4:37:44 GMT
Caitlin whistled shrilly using two fingers and her lips, someone came over in an instant. "Thrak needs an escort down to see the rows." The man lifted the goggles from his eyes and placed them on top his head with a nod. She turned back to Thrak. "Oh it's a very simple test. Don't let us sink, and you're in. This boat goes down, and we're all out. I'd hate to lose so many -fine- sailors," she motioned to the deckhands. Sailors though they may be, fine - or refined they were not. No matter...
She then turned to Uriah to address his concerns. Thrak was free to follow the man down to the bowels of the ship and see the complex rowing contraption. He'd be hard pressed to return with clean hands, given all the greased gears and cogs down below. Because of that device, the majority of their crew onboard were human or human dominants. "They've been more than a pest when it comes to territorial waters. Giselle has done a decent job washing them out, but the last encounter put her vessel back in drydock. I mean to send one of theirs off the same way. Our communion with Masaa was forged through tribulation and we've come to an understanding. I'd hate to repeat the process, they can be a bit... prickly... and trust me when I say that's their softer side. I'd like to stay on it."
super sorry for the wait guys in the middle of a long commute and pending move on top of starting classes at a new university (at the end of the long commute!). I'll try and keep this moving so we can get you both initiated and active in other threads
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
Crossing his arms the man would listen to the words of the captain and come to a slight understanding about the competition that was put fourth before them. It seemed even pirates had to deal with other people most likely on an average basis which just seemed like a lot of trouble but what were they to do about it? Anyway the reasons didn't completely matter but he was just more than curious to what exactly it was that people like Caitlin had to deal with.
"I see... Sounds like trouble but hopefully you could answer a few more questions I might have. Not that I wish to avoid working as a deckhand but curiosity is a weakness of my own. First being... Do you expect this opposing vessel to have the same type of technology or anything like you're running downstairs?" Taking a moment to take a deep breath his eyes shifted away from the captain while his entire body turned to look off the side? What exactly would you call it? He wasn't sure but side of the boat before speaking a little louder about his secondary question.
"How do you feel about Anders?" It was fairly straight forward but there wasn't exactly many ways to ask the question exactly and knowing what type of person his employer may be would be rather important in the long run. If she was against them it most likely wouldn't change his decision on how to possibly take care of the opposing ship since in the situation that she hates them, he would end up dead. Then if he hid the fact when he could be of possible use then they could all be dead which was to most people a worse thing.
No worries, you do you. Plus I've already jumped into other light threads to keep myself busy pre-initiation.
Post by Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson on Aug 29, 2015 14:39:05 GMT
"Nub let us sink - dat a guud plan, yub," Thrakazog chortled, finding humor where there might have been none. The very idea of allowing a ship he was on to sink was counter-productive to staying alive - for starters - nevermind the fact that the vessel belonged to the Queen of Rogues, or that he, of all people, was being entrusted with such a task. People didn't just 'trust' Thrakazog with jobs. Sure, they might have him swab a deck, or hoist a mainsail, but he was usually watched to make sure the 'big oaf' was doing it right from start to finish. There were just so many parts of that simple request that seemed silly to him - he couldn't help himself.
Even as the man with the goggles led him away, he was still chuckling to himself, "Nub let us sink... bah hah - dat's a guud one!"
A couple minutes later, he stood at a doorway - one a bit smaller than he was - and the man who led him here was talking to him. "A'ight, big fella. I be called Toothless John - ye kin call me John though. Heah, let's get ye fitted. Put ye sack right theah."
John actually did have some teeth - enough to pronounce 'T's, anyway - but it was apparent that he wasn't blessed with good oral hygiene. Either that, or the man had been in one too many altercations that had taken the bones from his gums prematurely. Whatever the case, after Thrakazog put his rucksack down where he was told, the smaller man obtained a pair of goggles from a pegboard on the wall. Thrakazog had to bend way down so the smaller John could put the things on his head, but then the mechanic uttered a curse, "Gah! Ye head's just as fat as da rest o ye! Lessee heah..."
"Thrak nub fat. Me just big for me size," Thrakazog explained; he'd heard the 'fat' comments before. In truth, he was carrying some extra weight. He wasn't built like a body-builder, all cut and chiseled from marble. But he wasn't a layabout either - he was a man accustomed to hard work and labor, and had significant strength beneath his fleshed-out skin. People usually had trouble understanding what he meant by 'big for his size', but he was merely repeating something his mother told him, and confusing it. She said he was 'big for his age', and that he 'had a lot of heart for his size'. He just mashed them together in his head. He usually got a chuckle from people at the phrase though, so he kept on using it. Thrakazog felt that it was better if people laughed at what he said, instead of at him.
John did chuckle at the words though, and grabbed another set of goggles from the wall. Fastening them together, he created a much larger set of goggles, albeit by the time it was on Thrakazog's head, two lenses covered the big man's eyes, while the other two stared lifelessly out the back of his head. "We'll get ye sumthin' bettah latah," John explained, "Those'll do fah now tho."
John then turned and opened the door, stepping inside immediately after. Thrakazog had to duck and turn slightly sideways to get through the portal, but when he was on the other side, he was able to stand up again, slumping only a little to avoid hitting his head on a ceiling beam. His protected eyes widened in wonder at what he saw.
The belly of the rear of the ship was filled with all manner of levers, cranks, and cogs. The forward part of the ship was for cargo, but this section was all about the rowing machine. There were long metallic arms, fastened to wooden oars, that looked like they were in a folded position at the moment - a series of sections hinged together and secured by pins when they needed to be extended. The spider-like legs of those oars were connected to a large camshaft that ran up the center of the space, and the end of that shaft was fitted into the heart of the room - a steam engine. The engine wasn't particularly large, in and of itself, but the fuel required to run it - black coal - took up a majority of the aft of the ship. When the vessel was empty, it likely sat nose-up in the water, with all of its weight so far in the rear. But when the cargo area was full, it was probably very balanced, as it was now.
Thrakazog was impressed, amazed, and even a little astonished. But his mind was geared for such things, and though he might be considered a little 'slow' in other situations, machinery just seemed to 'click' for him. He could see where every join was, where every latch went, and how every arm was constructed. He could see how powerful the engine had to be, and how the camshaft's turn would drive the oars. It was, in a word for him, "Purdy."
John chuckled again, amused at big Thrak's awe. "Tuck ye chin, big boy, and follow me. I'll show ye wheah the grease bucket is, and the brushes. We'll get stahted maintainin' the Dauntless' haht, aye? Mind ye head now, and watch the spaih pahts on the walls."
"Yub YUB!" Thrakazog heartily agreed. This was a dream come true for him, and he was not about to disappoint. Even if all he ever got to do was grease the joints, oil the gears, and feed coal into the furnace, he was ecstatic.
"What do I call ye, big fella?" John asked as they wound their way through the engine room.
"Yub. Youz call me Thrak," Thrakazog replied happily.
"Aye? Like Thrakazog, aye?" John asked, and nodded when he heard Thrakazog's affirmative response. He wasn't sure if Thrakazog was as scary as the fictitious, leviathan-like sea monster, but somehow, the name fit. "Well... ye shure ah big enough fah that name, aye. Get ye ahss ovah heah and hoist this..."
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Sept 3, 2015 17:32:59 GMT
A shrill whistle came from the crows nest and a flash of blue that might have been Ikuze Storm flicked across the canopy. Pandemonium broke around them as everyone darted this way and that, some to unfurl the extra sails, some to dart below decks to the mid level where the canons laid in wait. A good half dozen went up to the keel to look out and spot the offending object on the horizon line. Ten nautical miles and moving in fast - there was their target.
"Tea time is over boys!" Caitlin cheered and she grabbed Uriah by his arm, with her other hand she pointed up. Straight up "Hope you're not afraid of heights. I need you in the nest, grab the spyglass tucked into the barrel skirt and start climbing. I need a 360 degree view of the action, and Ikuze can only see 180 of it at a time. Join her up there and call out what you see below. If we take a hit, let us know where, if theres a man overboard, or a boarding from the enemies... you get the idea?" She squeezed and let go of his arm. A fire blazed in her eyes and she pulled her blade from her hip. "Today we remind them just who they were messing with. Let's make sure to send a message they wont dare forget again!"
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
Blinking almost obliviously to the situation going on, Uriah just watched people start to get to work and working out the sails most likely to pickup extra speed but for what? His attention was immediately turned towards the Captain who began to give him a fair bit of commands that he most likely should follow to the letter or at least the best of his ability. The gleaming of her newly drawn sword as almost near inspiring for even himself, he couldn't even imagine how the crew could feel towards their captain drawing her blade.
Even if the woman didn't answer his questions it seemed like now wasn't the time and perhaps even greater to not worry about her opinion upon his origins till much later in the future if it did ever feel the need to come up again. Now was the time for him to get to work, shifting his position and taking hold of the spyglass and looking up towards the top of the mast where the crows nest was kept. Heights he could deal with but the physical strain of climbing wasn't exactly something he was looking forward to doing.
Uriah put the spyglass within his vest strap, most likely the best place to keep it for the time being till he managed to reach the top without it falling and embarrassing himself on his first day of work. Grabbing hold of the thick rope he began his ascent higher and higher up from the deck of the ship, away and further away from the captain and everyone else below. The small of salt water became even more apparent the higher he got and unfortunately it was hardly bearable. Though within a short period of time he hoisted himself up to the crows nest and let out a large breath of air.
His attention was taken as he looked over the bright haired female in which he couldn't remember properly introducing himself to because of her position and where he tended to stay, but her music was more than familiar to him by now. "Greetings, I'm sure you don't mind a second hand up here." He smiled as though the matter was rather trivial but he swiftly pulled the spyglass out and extended it overall and began to look out into the horizon, taking his time to get used to the entire sight of what it was like to do this kind of job. "How long do you assume till we make contact going at this speed?" He questioned curiously about the matter as learning the basics would be best if at all possible while there was still a little time.
Ikuze'd been up in the crows nest for the majority of this little jaunt, keeping a weather eye out on the seas. She'd much rather have been back in Lodan, but when Caitlin had asked her to join her for this little trip, eh, kinda hard to say no to the Queen of Rogues. And so, she'd kept her eyes peeled for the little mongrels that had been giving them trouble lately from that bumrag king the queen (Lodan's Queen, not Caitlin) had rejected a while back... and sure enough, there they were. She'd given the signal and then braced herself for the coming conflict. Being up high, with cannons soon to fly... yeeaaaah she was gonna keep as small a target as possible.
Of course, someone else decided to pop into the nest with her, one of the blokes that Caitlin had dragged along for this excursion that was undergoing their trial stages. At his first statement she just shrugged. "You're up here now. I ain't gonna argue with her." said the thief, keeping her eyes on the ship they were steadily approaching. "If you mean boarding range, few minutes maybe... cannons though?" said the thief as she spotted a set of flashes from the enemy ship. She quickly leaned over the edge to yell down. "INCOMIN' SHOT!" and then proceeded to brace herself against the mast, trying to keep the ship in sight without putting her head in a position where it wouldn't get squashed by a high velocity ball of metal.
Post by Thadeus "Thrakazog" Stevenson on Sept 5, 2015 18:08:31 GMT
A shrill sound came from somewhere, and as both Thrakazog and John perked up, the sound of some commotion started up. John hustled to a spot near the door, where a cone shaped device emerged. He put his ear to it, and listened, and then a voice came out of seemingly nowhere (coming, in fact, from the cone) and announced that they were about to engage an enemy. John yelled back into the cone - a simple 'talking tube' - "Aye, Aye!"
Then he turned back towards Thrakazog, "Hey! We have ta prep the engine! Go ovah theah and add some coal to the furnace!"
Thrakazog nodded, suddenly startled and focused all at once. He hustled towards the back of the room where the massive coal store sat beside a heavy iron door. He started to reach for the door handle when John yelled again, "HAY! That's HOT! What are ye, a kid? Use them thar tongs and those gloves!"
Thrak yanked his hand back and looked where John pointed, spotting a pair of heavy gloves and iron tongs. His time in the smithy as a boy made realization dawn on him, and he hastily put the things on and operated the door. He was met by a blast of dry, hot air, but he was accustomed to such things. He then spotted a shovel near the coal and began feeding the furnace. In a moment or two, John appeared behind him and shouted a little in order to be heard. "That's good 'nuff. Ye kin shut 'er now."
He then added, "The furnace heats a big ole vat o watah... like a kettle. When it gets hot enuff, ye'll see that gauge theah go inta the green. When that happens, we open the valve and let teh steam inta the pistons, and they staht pushin away at the camshaft theah. Befoah THAT happens, we want ta get those oahs in tha watah. I'll show ya how ta do that when we have moah time - fo now, I'll get them set. If that gauge goes inta the red, ya gotta turn the release valve - right theah - or else we'll blow the Dauntless up from in heah! Aye? Aye!"
He slapped Thrakazog on the shoulder, and Thrak started staring at the gauge, watching the needle slowly climb higher and higher as the heat from the furnace boiled the water tank and pressurized the system. Soon enough, the needle went into the green, but when Thrak turned to check on John, the old man was struggling with one of the oars. Apparently, it had unfolded, but in the wrong direction, and the older sailor was struggling to move the steel arm back around into the correct position. Thrak ducked and weeded himself over to John and shouted, "Me got dis!"
In an effort that looked horrifyingly simple to John, Thrak moved the long, heavy oar-shaft into place, and then John pinned it. Nodding in satisfaction, he said, "Good job! Ahr we in the green yet?"
The look on Thrakazog's face told John all he needed to know, and as his eyes widened, he turned and raced back over to the release valve - practically clambering like a monkey through the room. He quickly spun the valve open, not caring what the gauge read, and was rewarded by a loud whistle and hiss as steam shot up through the release valve pipe and out into the air above the decks. Wiping an arm across his sweating brow (it was hot down there in the engine room!), he said, "Close one, aye? Ye gotta mind that gauge, lad! Oahs will wait on us, but the presshah won't, ye get it?"
Thrakazog nodded in understanding, "Yub, yub! Sorree 'bout dat."
But John only grinned. "Sarright this time, aye. Now... ye go ovah to that thah levah, and when I tell ye, ye throw it. It'll drop the oahs in the water and we'll let the engine turn 'em. Go on now... stand by."
Just then, they both heard - or rather, felt - a shudder as a canonball slammed into the side of the ship. It seemed it was a glancing blow, but it was a bit too close for comfort, and only reminded Thrakazog of his last ship... and how the pirates had taken it down...
Ikuze grimaced as the shot connected with the ship, and saw several more flashes from the enemy boat. "INCOMING GRAPES! GET YER FINGERS OUT OF YER ARSES!" she called down, ducking and bracing herself as multiple smaller balls of iron soared around them, aiming to take out their mast and sails. "I hate grape shots..." she grumbled before watching the crew set about returning fire of their own, the ships drawing ever closer to one another. "BOARDING IN FIVE!" the blue haired thief called down, counting down the seconds before the two ships were in range of each other to send their crews against one another in combat. She looked to her current nest mate then back to the ship below. "How good are ye with a blade?" she asked him.
Post by Caitlin Cockfoster on Sept 15, 2015 15:11:20 GMT
Perhaps better that he stay in the nest... Cait might have said, but she was no where nearby to have overheard and he might have proven her wrong in any case. The oars dropped on one side, some clever maneuver being tasked down below. This turned the ship hard 90 degrees in the water, throwing it out of the line of fire from incoming trajectories. Then the other set of oars came out as another shrill whistle of steam emulated from below decks and dissipated out the side of the ship. That was probably record breaking timing for the engineers.
Just as Caitlin climbed back to her feet from the abrupt jostle to the side during the swivel, the ship surged forward, nose first at its opponent.
Ikuze called out "Boarding in 5!" and Caitlin (like so many others) unsheathed her sword. Guns were drawn from the human lot, and the Anders unveiled their wings and claws. Some glowed eerily, making ready with the magic. On the other deck, the faces came into focus and Caits heart hammered in her chest. The adrenaline pumped black blood through her veins and she mentally prepared herself for the clash, seconds away.
Great work you two! Love what you're doing with the crew below decks Thrak, and awesome rapport in the nest. Keep it going guys, we could have this battle won before you know it - have fun writing it, feel free to invent your own enemy NPC's and remember to be reasonable, creative, and in-character when engaging!
She sat her glass down next to the decanter and leaned back. This was nice... like falling into a vat of marshmallow fluff. Calm, muffled, the rest of the world blocked out by the closed door to his cabin, and here they were safe inside. Safe from reality, safe from their own complicated lives. Safe from duty. Safe from context. Just. Safe. --Caitlin
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