Posted By: Jennifer

Leaving Tidewater Rock, they sailed east toward Bloodcove, following Lady Smythee’s advice on how they might locate slavers bound for Cheliax. Chopper, in an ebullient mood no one could damp, took to singing a truly dreadful song of his own composition entitled “Gonna Put the Beatdown on some Slavers”. It had a surprisingly salubrious effect on the crew—they were all very excited to find work whenever he appeared in their vicinity.

In the waning hours of their second day at see, a ship suddenly came into view, crossing ahead of the setting sun. The light made any details impossible to see, but the general lines suggested a whaler riding low in the water. As the last of the light faded, the ship also disappeared from view. Chopper frowned, rubbing the as-yet short growth of beard on his chin. “That ship was moving directly against the wind,” he commented.

“No doubt there are many strange sights in these waters,” Feruzi said.

“Night-time assault?” he suggested. “Save the whales!” Reiko steered them in that direction, directing the crew at the touchy process of tacking into the wind. The Crisis could manage a course about twenty points off the wind, but sailing directly into it ought to be impossible without magic. Or possibly harpooning a furious white whale. Who could say. Ezikial set Rosie and Marteen to setting up the ballista on the deck with help from the burly Dar and Insawa, taking great pride in showing off the results of his hard work to the rest of the crew. Ezikial in particular seemed eager to test out his new toy. They found no further trace of the whaler, though. Chopper shook his head, disappointed.

“Keep your eyes peeled. I don’t want to be caught with our pantaloons down.”

“I think I would agree with you on that one,” Reiko told him. Sandara grinned.

“Not like this, anyway.”

Posted by: Jennifer

The winch raising the longboat was far too slow for Leila today, with the angry crew on all sides nearly breathing down her neck. By the time they were level with the gunwhales, she could stand it no longer and nearly flung herself over the rail to clutch Feruzi’s arm, startling everyone so badly that they nearly fell into the drink.

“You have to DO something!” Leila hissed. She hesitated, then shot Reiko an apologetic look. Reiko’s eyebrows rose minutely.

“Is there some kind of problem?” the First Mate asked.

“I would say that there is,” a harsh voice behind Leila grated as Serhet, the bald Thuvian, started to reach out to pull Leila back into the ship. Leila flinched, horrifed, and Reiko’s eyes appeared ready to shoot out black lightning bolts. Serhet abandoned his boldness and shrank backward slightly and Feruzi climbed out of the longboat to look down at him.

“I believe you can handle this, Sergeant,” Reiko drawled, lending her own hand to the grateful Leila. Ezikial, Chopper, and Sandara followed, assuming various poses of relaxed but attentive interest. Sandara grinned broadly, which seemed to unnerve Serhet even more.

Feruzi nodded to Reiko. “So, what is the difficulty, then?” she asked, addressing Leila, not the Thuvian.

“He caught Simmed rooting through his gear,” Leila explained, then raised her voice sharply when Serhet started to interrupt. “And THEN he tried to gut the boy.”

Posted by Jennifer

It would be three days, Leila estimated, before they could reach Tidewater Rock. Well, three days with an ordinary crew, but there was really no telling with this bunch. Feruzi, Ezikial, and Reiko had spent an hour in the chartroom, dickering like fishwives, and come up with an organizational plan of sorts. At some point they decided to saddle Leila with the moony Lysaro to be her assistant and hopefully learn navigation, a discovery that had Leila feeling just a bit disgruntled this morning. Lysaro had already called her a delicate flower in addition to a dusky gemstone and something involving a deep well that may have actually been obscene if she felt any desire to decipher the poetic extravagance. Fortunately for her sanity and Lysaro’s continued survival, this appeared to be an ingrained reflex and not actual flirting; he’d settled down once she set the charts on him and made him try to calculate their position.

They left the Slithering Coast behind rapidly; the wind was cooperative even if the crew wasn’t. By evening, everyone on the ship was exhausted and sought their hammocks without even a token attempt at socializing. Or, almost everyone. Ezikial was just drifting off in his peaceful corner when he heard voices and saw a light flickering. Hoisting himself up, he saw Feruzi, Rosie, and Cochobar gathered outside the door to the crew quarters. He blinked repeatedly at the sight until he realized that the peculiar shadows were caused by elaborate designs in black and white paint.

I’m Chopper the Eighth, I am,
Chopper the Eighth I am, I am!
I got married to the widow next door,
She’s been married seven times before
And every one was an Chopper
It wouldn’t be a Willie or a Sam
I’m her eighth old man I’m Choppery
Chopper the Eighth, I am!
__

Posted By: Jennifer

It took three days for the Man’s Promise to limp its way to the Slithering Coast, but in the frantic scramble to do with eleven what a crew of more than twenty found hard going the minutes took on a strange dual quality. Each moment seemed endless, yet once they passed the memory of them vanished in the next crisis and it was somehow shocking to realize that an entire hour or morning had suddenly flashed by. When the land finally crept into view it seemed more like an illusion, even as they rounded the tall headland and sailed into the greenish-brown outflow of a sluggish jungle river, visibly withdrawn from wide banks of red mud that had become a landscape of cracks in the sun. The dense jungle foliage surrounding the cluster of buildings and piers at the river’s mouth was yellowed and wilted, and there was little visible activity anywhere ashore.

A lone red and yellow flag flickered at the top of a watchtower, followed by a similar sign from the roof of the massive shed that obviously housed the drydock. Like ants with a disturbed nest, dozens of figures emerged from the buildings to gather on the pier. A longboat was manned and launched and arrowed straight toward the Promise, where the crew put down their tasks and gathered at the rail, looking at their shiny new Captain for instructions.