Adventure on the High Seas

[Thoradin]

Spoiler:

@cartoonkarl @Brutalskars @Harmonic @Cerb57 @Drakethehyooman @Morhana Feel free to post your own stuff with your Privateers in this thread!

The smell of the salt on the breeze was strong as the wind blew hard in the tattered red and black sails, the timbers groaning as the ship smashed and cut her way through the waves. The Endeavor may not have been the prettiest ship, but with twelve cannons on each side, six chase cannons, and enough barrels of explosives to destroy a small city, she didn't need to be pretty. Her hull was splintered as it had just come from a confrontation with a small schooner off the coast of Stranglethorn. Only three of the surviving twelve crew chose to join the Endeavor's crew, the rest had their throats slit and made their way down to Davy Jones' Locker.

Roberto Alcantra, the most esteemed Captain of this grand ol' ship, plotted a course for fine whaling waters in the South Seas (this time of year, whales would be migrating in force). The crewmen were busy locking down the fresh cargo, or swabbing the decks to smooth out the splinters. One fellow, with few, but yellowed, teeth, rose his voice as he reloaded a cannon, his mates joining in in the chorus;

Spoiler:

The worst old ship that ever did sail,
Sailed out of Storm'ind on a windy day.

And we're waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day
That we get our pay!

She was built in Arath'r time,
Held together with bits of twine

And we're waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day
That we get our pay!

Nothing in the galley—nothing in the hold,
But the skipper's turned in with a bag of gold.

And we're waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day
That we get our pay!

Off th'Gold Coast she sprang a leak,
Hear her poor old timbers creak.

And we're waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day
That we get our pay!

We pumped our way round the Vile Reef,
When the wind backed round to the west-sou'-west.

And we're waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day
That we get our pay!

Into the Humber and up the town,
Pump you blighters—pump or drown.

And we're waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day
That we get our pay!

And we're waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day,
Waiting for the day
That we get our pay!

The wreckage of the poor schooner sank downwards, her flag, of some noble House from the North, was the last to make its stand before being devoured by the Briney deep. The Endeavor grew ever so fatter as the crew stowed down a cargo of textiles, alcohols, spices, and metals. The few purses of gold found aboard were handed out to the crew, and two pieces thrown overboard to the two mates that were lost in the heated exchange.

'Privateering is great', Roberto thought to himself. 'You get paid to not attack Alliance ships, you get paid to attack Horde ships. Neutrals are free game... and ya get to keep the spoils.' He smiled to himself, his stained teeth glaring in the baking sun as he grabbed the wheel and directed the ship himself. Full masts, anchors weighed up; it's a good life.

[Thoradin]

The stench of whale meat was prevalent on the old Brig. Barrels of blubber, meat, and bones were stored in the hold after the most recent catch, an adult humpback. Took near on a dozen harpoons, a few striking true and hard in vital organs. The crew was enthusiastic about the great beast at first, but the novelty of cooked whale grew off no matter how one could prepare it! These sea dogs were grateful, though, as they sailed further south.

You could just feel it on the wind; the women, the freedom, the ale, and the powder. Plunder Isle was not far off, no more than a few leagues over the turquoise sea. As the men grew ready to make port, they rose their voices together in a merry chant;

Spoiler:

Come all you young sailor men, listen to me,
I'l sing you a song of the fish in the sea;

And it's—
Windy weather, boys, stormy weather, boys.
When the wind blows, we're all together, boys;
Blow ye winds westerly, blow ye winds, blow,
Jolly sou'wester, boys, steady she goes.

Up jumps the eel with his slippery tail,
Climbs up aloft and reefs the topsail

And it's—
Windy weather, boys, stormy weather, boys.
When the wind blows, we're all together, boys;
Blow ye winds westerly, blow ye winds, blow,
Jolly sou'wester, boys, steady she goes.

Then up jumps the shark with his nine rows of teeth,
Saying, "You eat the dough boys, and I'LL eat the beef!"

And it's—
Windy weather, boys, stormy weather, boys.
When the wind blows, we're all together, boys;
Blow ye winds westerly, blow ye winds, blow,
Jolly sou'wester, boys, steady she goes.

Up jumps the whale., the largest of all,
"If you want any wind, well, I'll blow ye a squall!!

And it's—
Windy weather, boys, stormy weather, boys.
When the wind blows, we're all together, boys;
Blow ye winds westerly, blow ye winds, blow,
Jolly sou'wester, boys, steady she goes.

And before you knew it, there it was, Plunder Isle. Home of the Free Man who did not heed the laws of any but his own. Sure the Bloodsails made their main port on the Island, but among Pirates it's neutral ground. Near holy in the right frame of mind. Where sailors from different ships can knock snot from each other in a drunken brawl one moment and the next they are sharing stories and laughing like old chums.

The Endeavor pulled into port at Bloodsail Hold, its grisly banners flying like blood on the bright blue sky. The men took their time, unloading cargo and trading whale meat and bones for ammunition and powder and a fair bit of gold. Roberto, the most esteemed Captain, made his way to the nearest tavern, slipping the barkeep there a few coins for some 'drink'.

The ragged looking man leaned in close to Roberto, his face like a leather cutting board. He opened his mouth, forcing speech out of the few teeth he had left, "Thar be a convoy, flyin' colors o'onna them Noble Houses. 'Neans, I fink. A Frigate, so's I hear, escorted by a brace o'Brigs. S'posed ta be carryin' sum right fine cargo, so's I hear. Not but furty leagues nor'-nor'west off th'coast o'Balor. " He coughed and hacked, blood and phlegm shooting out onto the beaten countertop. He simply swabbed it with a musty rag as Roberto downed a spot of rum from an overused pewter cup, stepping away from the bar.

The Captain took the time to commission a small upgrade to the Endeavor, a twin set of iron mortars. Not cheap, but that humpback was indeed the gift that kept on giving. He also binged and bought enough mortar shot to last the next few months, as well as a decent amount of heavy shot for the broadside cannons. He smiled to himself as his boys loaded the mortar and ammunition, a convoy could do well to bring in a fair bit of coin. Even as Privateers in the employ of 'His Majesty, King Wrynn' these Gilnean Nobles were flying their own flags, so the barkeep said. Neutrality is a technicality, and the Endeavor cannot attack ships flying Alliance Colors; Blue and Gold.

The life of a Free Man is a good Life.


(The Endeavor will remain ICly at port on Plunder Isle for a while! Feel free to post, guys!)

[Harmonic]

The haggard dwarf walked around the isle. Hatchley had coin in his pocket, and an idea on his mind. "Gonna find me th' first dwarf lass I see, an' take 'er 'out on th' town." He'd snort, running his hand over his beard for a moment. He'd look back at the ship, the gryphon aboard giving him sad eyes, and letting out a pleading screech. He'd furrow his brows, pointing down briskly. "Siddown you damn thing. I canne take you out wif' me when I'm bein' salty an' promiscuous!" He'd snort, going towards the area where the ale and women flowed.

Sure enough, he'd find a woman. She was a stout dwarf, happy and pleasant looking. Bunglebrew would smile slowly, creeping over to her as well as he could muster. He'd put on his "smooth" voice, talking low and deep. "Allo lass. Fancy a bit o' ale and a good toim?" He'd wink at her, smiling, his teeth sporadically showing a gold and silver tooth mixed within. The woman would look him over. She'd furrow her brow, and would sigh.

"You don't look worth me time, fella."

Hatch snorts. "I jus' got done huntin' whale. Look!" He'd show her his hands. They had fairly bad rope burns on them, however, they were being treated with an ointment. He'd smile at her again. "Trus' me lass, I've got plenneh o' money for you an' I for a lil' while. Come wif' me an' I moight put me rough hands all over yeh later."

She'd sigh, looking back at some of the human and elf women, shaking her head. "Be still moi beatin' 'eart. Y'know what? Why don't yeh turn yourself t' stone and jump in the ocean. How's tha' sound? Soak yeh head a lil'."

Hatchley would furrow his brow. "Foisty. Oi loike foisty, lass." He'd stroke his beard. His day was spent trying to talk his way into this Dwarf woman's good graces. Eventually, she'd agree to drinks, but only after he mentioned his gryphon and pointed it out.