Redwall Abbey

Prompt:
The mouse known as Captain Crash was the sailor of sailors – a real legend in her time. From humble beginnings, she had risen through the hardship that is a seafaring life until she, through a track record that solidified her name in history, established herself the unofficial yet highly regarded title of Queen of the Western Sea. Despite not being a real monarch, Her Majesty Captain Crash had amassed a fortune to rival even the richest of rulers.

Now she was dead.

What killed her still remains a mystery. In fact, very few creatures had seen the elusive mouse in recent seasons, and speculation ran wild. Though not as wild as what was announced to all sailors of the ocean following her death: in her last written word, Captain Crash promised her title and her treasure to go to the winner of a sea race. Anyone who won the race would become the new ruler of the Western Sea, take her treasure, her fortresses, and all else that was once hers.

The beach of a small island was lined with ship crews of all shapes and sizes: searats, corsairs, privateers, villagers, all from the far reaches of the great blue, stood anxiously with their varying-sized crews on the sand. Everyone's ships were moored on the shore, waiting for the race to begin. The rules were simple: when the start of the race was announced, sailors must push their vessels into the water and race across the sea to the island of Ami-Jowi. How they got there did not matter, but the first to get their ship there and claim the golden oar on the island's sandy shore would be the new heir to Captain Crash's throne. The way was not short of peril, and conflict on the open waves would surely ensue, but that was life at sea and part of the risk.

A shadowed figure nodded to Catamello, the now former advisor to the late Sea Queen. He emerged onto a broad balcony overlooking the beach and put his paws up to silence the creatures on the beach below. He said very little. "In honor of Captain Crash's last written orders to her crew, whoever among you is the first to sail across the sea and claim the golden oar on the shore of Ami-Jowi Isle will inherit the late Queen's treasure, her title, and all that she possessed. When I drop my paws, the race will begin. May the wind always fill your sails and may your journeys be quick. Ready, let the race begin!" As the queen's late advisor dropped his paws, all crews on the beach rushed to their ships and began the task of getting them back into the water.

Crews and Vessels:
Hares from Salamandastron aboard the Wave Wanderer, headed by Captain Carmen O'Foster Bobo and a crew of a score (20).
Searats from nowhere in particular aboard the Floating Flea, headed by Captain Sceever and a crew of two and a half score (50).
Corsairs (also from nowhere in particular) aboard the Bloody Barrel, headed by Captain Damian, Terror of the High Seas, and a crew of two and a half score (50).
A group of seemingly peaceful island mice aboard the Holly Hopper, headed by Captain Split and a crew of 15.
A ragtag group of sea otter outlaws aboard the Freewave, headed by Captain Ogagan and a crew of 15.
___________ aboard the ___________, headed by Captain __________ and a crew of ____________ (player's choice! Choosing to make a character does not gain or lose one consideration when judging occurs. Be sure to introduce the character if you make a new one).

How to play (everyone please read)!
To be considered for points, one must post in the RP at least 4 times. Judging is based off of quality of post. The winner of the race is not necessarily the winner of the RP in judging. That title goes to whoever does the best job with progressing the story and playing their part.

All OOC and IC posts will occur on this topic. No extra topics have been made. OOC posts do not count toward the 4-post minimum to be considered for judging.

Players will RP as vessel Captains and their crews. One may play as other characters, but may not god-mode. If a dispute should arise, then the post that caused the problem should be re-written (this expedites the problem-solving process and allows for the RP to carry on). Bickering does not bode well for when judging comes around.

Anyone may jump in at any time. The sea is big! So it's okay if ships disappear from view and come back later. Though we encourage interaction.

I will be evana vole of the holly hopper the only vole in a crew of mice.

I would take the otters on board the Freewave, headed by Captain Ogagan.

When the flaming arrow signaling the start of the race was fired Evana was ready. At Spilt's command the Holly Hopper was of like a streak across the ocean's waves. Evana was steering the ship and loving the spray of seafoam generated by their vessel she felt certain her crew would be victorious for no  beast knew of their hidden weapons, 2 balistas and many moltv cocktails hidden below the Holly Hopper's decks.

Captain Ogagan, Captain of the Freewave, chopped a rope with his axe and the sail unfurled. A large gust of wind sent the Freewave shooting across the waves. Otters ran around the deck, tying something here, unfurling something there. The crew began singing a rowdy sea otter sailing song as they closely followed the Holly Hopper.

Ahead of the pack but not by much the crew of the Holly Hopper unfurled both of their sails and manned the oars the remaining crew hands loaded the balistae and prepared to fend of any attack.

OOC: just jumping in here and there! If we only have a few people in this, I'll jump around and act out some of the others while this is going on!

BIC: The Floating Flea was already a mess. Hardly 100 yards out from the start, arguing broke out. It appeared two rats were fighting over who would take the wheel for the first leg of the journey. The large vessel veered wildly in the waves as if it were trying to shake a pursuer.

Carmen O'Foster Bobo, Long Patrol hare and Captain of the much smaller Wave Wanderer, was nearly rammed by the searats in the Floating Flea. She shouted insults at the bigger ship, her face red with exertion and brandishing a rapier at them. It was hard to hear some of what she was saying if one were standing downwind, but it had something to do with "Using your guts fer garters and using your pelt as a duster." It was worthy language for a sailor.

Just as it seemed the Floating Flea would run them over, it jerked sharply in the opposite direction. Carmen ordered full sail and the Wave Wanderer distanced itself from the mess of a ship. Though this did not put the hares in first. There were still three others nearby and ahead: the Freewave in the front, then the Holly Hopper, and the Bloody Barrel not far behind.

Evena was at the wheel of Holly Hopper when the lookout saw the Flea veer off coruse everyone on board sighed in relief but with the Bloody Barrel  gaining on them the ship's carpenter pulled forth from the hold 5 floating barrels embeded with iron spikes pointing in all directions to pierce a ship's hull he throw 3 of them in the water behind them hoping to sink the Bloody Barrel.

OOC: I'll jump in as Captain Damian at the helm of the Bloody Barrel

IC:

  Standing by the helm with the steersrat, Captain Damian Grog, feared captain of the Corsair vessel the Bloody Barrel watched his larger ship bear down upon the Holly Hopper. Silks and turban flapping in the wind Damian screamed out commands to his minions in a startlingly high pitch voice, all the while taking large gulps from a bottle of his namesake. The big ferret cared little for formalities and he pointed a scabby claw towards the mouse boat, a sniggering maliciously.

"Squish dem 'alfmice Bobbo, make 'em all likkle mousy fishbait hehehehe. Tha treasure be good as min- er I mean ours! Har har!"

"Aye, aye Cap'n." Bobbo the steersrat needed no second bidding, setting the swift corsair ship on course to ram the even smaller mouse craft, chuckling along with his insane master. The two watched on baited breath, eyeing the smaller ship grow closer and closer. As the two vermin looked on the mice seemed to hesitate, and then launch a few barrels over the side. Bobbo scratched his head in puzzlement but Damian, a veteran at sea chases knew the answer, or at least he thought he did.

"Th' cads!" He cried, in a voice liable to make anybeast squeamish. "They be throwin' good grog overboard to make 'em ship lighter an' to insult me! By thunder I'll 'ave their tails fer wastin' good grog, pile on all sail! Don' let 'em get away lads!" The corsair crew jumped at his command, rats scurried up ropes, stoats unfurled sail cloth, ferrets rolled barrels, weasels tied knots, and foxes pretended to look busy. Some of the more experienced fighting vermin piled at the prow, bows and arrows and harpoons in paw, hoping to slay anymouse not killed by the ploughing Bloody Barrel, each one seeking vengeance for the abandoned grog.

"A full barrel to th' creature oo' brings me one alive!" Damian screamed twirling an empty bottle over his head. A great cheer rose from the crew as they crested a wave, drawing closer to their hated enemy.
"FOR THE GROG!" They cried together just as the first barrel hit.

Thunk, thunk, thunk.

"Wot in th' blazes was that?" Damian asked glancing about. "No matter, onward lads!" The Bloody Barrel sailed on after its quarry, and unbeknownst to anybeast onboard it sank a little lower in the water.

Captain Ogagan saw the Bloody Barrel streak across the waves toward the vulnerable Holly Hopper. The Captain could not stand by and watch the   ruthless Corsairs slaughter the crew of the Holly Hopper. He shoved the steersotter out of the way and jerked the wheel left. The  vessel lurched sideways and nearly crashed into the Bloody Barrel.

Some otters drew out shortbows and launched a swift volley at the Corairs, trying to draw them away from ramming the Holy Hopper.

Evena sighed ''those were kind otters but we had it taken care of''
''aye '' responed Capt. Slipt ''they will be slaughtered but if their not and we win lets share one-forth of the loot with them, now lets use this to our advantage and take the lead!''

The Captain heard a loud thud and saw the Bloody Barrel sink lower in the water. The arrows seemed to strike a few vermin, but no major damage was done. The Captain surrendered the wheel back to the steersotter and had him turn away and pursue the Holly Hopper.

A few screams and a loud splash signaled the timely arrival of Captain Ogagna and his otter crew. A few of the braver corsairs popped up to release a hurried volley at the retreating vessel, never staying up for more than a few moments. Those otter archers were accurate shots. Many of the vermin counted themselves lucky to not be one of the few saps who'd caught a shaft, many of those were still rolling on the deck, swarmed by their shipmates for their valuables. Captain Damian on the other paw stamped his boots in rage, screaming obscenities after the vigilante lutrinaes. Torn between two targets, and with a fair amount of rage directed at both the Bloody Barrel stalled in the water, allowing the Holly Hopper and the Freewave gain valuable meters.

"Cap'n! Th' grog storage be floodin'!"

All frantic activity aboard the Bloody Barrel ground to a very sudden halt. Damian Grog ceased his cursed rambling, turning his wild eyes upon a scrawny little weasel who'd given the pronouncement.

"Say it again Bloudeye?" Damian prompted, wriggling a claw in his dirty ear. "I don' think I 'eard ye right. Did ye just say th' grog storage, th' most important part o' me vessel be floodin' full o' seawater? An wit' it me prize ship be sinkin' cause o' th' tricks employed by th' blasted mice n' otters? An as a result we'll 'ave to trim sail an' potentially lose th' race an those grog-wasting villains."

The weasel Bloudeye looked confused. "Er, er, I never said all tha' Cap'n. But tis true."

"By thunder." Damian whispered, horror lighting up behind his dull yellow eyes. "Quick, quick all ye sea scabs n' mothers son o' ye. Get below decks, save me grog n' ship! Form a line start bailing ye paw blistered, toad warted, crab pussed lay'arounds! Get to work th' lot o' ye, yew, and yew too. Get up into th' masts an' trim th' sails! Hurry 'afore I lay into ye wit' me sword!"

Vermin scampered this way and that, collecting bottles, jugs, bowls and more forming a running chain that disappeared into the stinky depths of the corsair ship. Everyone worked as if their lives depended upon it, which they did. Before long the Bloody Barrel had made noticeable progress in its sinking, and Damian had worked himself into a fine temper. He paced the lower decks, never once lending a paw in support, allowing his overactive tongue to do most of the work. There wasn't a single varmint aboard the Bloody Barrel who didn't have the irate captain berate him or her at least once. Most of his tongue flapping and paw slapping was saved for the lazy beasts like Bobblepaws, and Fishnook whom he followed back and forth from the ever deepening lake forming in the ship's belly to the railing, never once giving them an opportunity to rest. Both physically and mentally.

After a good while Damian exhausted his supply of insults, and grew bored with assaulting his crew. He instead sent for his bosun, steersrat, and First mate to meet him on the helm deck to discuss their possibilities. The ship at that point was sitting very low in the water, and was tilting dangerously to the port side.

"Any o' yew got any bright ideas?" Damian asked, his voice very hoarse and scratchy. The ferret downed a beaker of grog, coughing into his elbow before continuing. "Cause, this isn't workin'. We'll be swimmin' wit' th' fishes give it another few hours, an' I can't swim to save me life. An' I really want to slit those mice's throats now. So either give me a workable sol-loo-tion or I'll be slitting yer throats nice n' painful like to make up for it."

The Freewave rode a whitecap and sped down toward the ocean. The seas were getting rougher by the minute. The crew ran around the deck, preparing for the worst. 

The great waters of the sea began turning a dull grey as heavy clouds blotted out the sun like a careless drop of ink on a canvas. The great Western Sea was a dangerous place, and storms were not uncommon. Perhaps this was not the greatest of days to hold a race, after all? But no matter, the crown of Captain Crash was up for grabs, and hardship should have been assumed at the very start.

Catamello, the one who had started the race with a drop of his paw, retreated from the balcony into the fort. He had been watching the ships recede into the distance. "Storm's coming. We'll have to wait a bit before sending the birds out for more information on the race." He said grumpily to one of the many hooded figures in the great room inside the fort. In the center of the room there lay a grand sea chart. A set of markers depicted the position of the ships as they moved. The race to Ami-Jowi isle was through one of the harshest stretches of sea there were. It was no surprise that a storm was already whipping its way up now. "My best estimate puts whoever is in the lead at reaching the waters of the Saberfin, monster of the deep, in two days time. I am curious to see how this will pan out. No beast has bested the great swordfish in all its history..."

Captain Split was huddled inside the aft cabin along with most of the holly hopper's crew, turning to face them he said ''In two days time we will arrive in the shoals of the legendary swordfish, no beast has ever made it past that giant of the deeps. Well save for three lucky souls back in my youth I was a apprentice carpenter aboard the Pike O'the Seas captained by Captain Crash herself. The night we entered the swordfish's waters was the worst gale I ever saw in my many long seasons of sailing me and my master carpenter were down in the hold fixing as best we could the scores of holes the beast tore in our ship. My master lost his leg that night the monstrous creature chopped a gaping hole in our starboard side, it's vicious teeth tore master Gripkin's left leg off in one bite. Then an enormous wave swept over the whole ship sweping all the poor crew overboard, save for master Gripkin, and I for we were not on the deck. The same wave that killed the crew thankfully pushed us away from that horror of the deep or I would not be here today, later Gripkin found Captain Crash half-drowned clinging to a rope we hauled her up and the voyage continued with only 3 hands on a badly damaged ship made for twenty we arrived on on the island the next day only due to the awe-inspiring sailing skills of Captain Crash. I then joined the crew of a fishing vessel and headed home to Sampetra via a different safer route. Come to think of it she probably went to the island to hide her teasure. Well I must prepare to face the monster again, you there! Haul the ballistae onto the deck and prepare for battle against this terror of the sea!'' And so the Holly Hopper sailed on.

A couple days later...

The otter crew all grew silent with apprehension as they approached the territory of the Great Swordfish. At first, the waters were dark and calm. Moments later, however, the ocean erupted with a explosion of white sea spray. A giant fin tore across the waters toward the Freewave, which was dwarfed by it's presence.

A few days before that...


The storm was just beginning to pick up in earnest when the Bloody Barrel limped back into the harbor. The vessel remained in dire straits, nearly completely sunk by the time it reached the tiny island jetty. A few beasts who remained on the beach to watch the now distant race jeered, but most soon vanished wishing to escape the storm's fury. Captain Damian Grog's crew however remained hard at work. The vanquished corsairs rushed about bailing water and sending divers down to remove the spiked barrels sunk deep into their hull. One rat perished when a wave smashed him into one of the contraptions. Despite the danger, and a few bloody paws and one casualty the weaponized barrels were retrieved and carried down to the armory, for potential use later.

Patches were soon constructed and set in place, and, after a few hours of hard effort the lake of water inside the Bloody Barrel was diminished to a mere pond. Damian himself inspected the damage done, splashing down the soaked underdecks of his ship's belly. Exhausted crew members slumped in damp hammocks, unconcerned about their uncomfortable situation, just wishing to catch a few minutes of rest.

"Well done mates." Damian cried, surprising everybeast who was still awake. "We're back in this race, an ye c'n rest assured we won't be fallin fer that right dirty trick again."

"Back in th' race Cap'n?" One crewbeast questioned, unconvinced. "We're a full day behind all th' others an' wit' a storm betwixt th' two o' us. An' th' crew be worn to th' bone after all that work. That likkle typhoon out on th' main be whippin' up waves taller n' th' mizzenmast." A few others mumbled in agreement encouraging the audacious speaker to continue. "We're all behind ye Cap'n to th' bloody end, but we ain't fit to sail a pond let alone th' stormy brine. Why don' we cut our losses an' rest 'ere fer a few days, wait fer th' seas to calm an' go find ourselves some fat merchant ships ter raid. We'd be fat n' 'appy again an' naught to worry about but-guhhhaaagh." The speaker gurgled his last words, Damian's sword thrust deep into his abdomen. The creature convulsed, blood frothing at his lips before sliding backwards of his hammock, splashing into the foot or so of water that remained.

"Anyone else wanna try givin' me orders?" Damian asked, eyeing his startled crew like a hawk ready to strike. Nobeast dared stir or move a muscle lest Captain Damian Grog's wrath be unleashed upon them. Seeing no takers Damian stepped onto the dead corsair, wiping gore from his sword on the unfortunate's dirty jerkin. "Well up an' at 'em lads. All paws on deck, we're setting sail once again fer me treasure, an' revenge!"