Crews of the Open Breeze RP

[Aimless Gallivanter]

"The 'information' is right in fron' o' you, welp. The map's all a true pirate and seafarer would need," Coop scoffed. He'd been on the verge of attacking Seadog, but Marshall's intervention had cooled him down. A cup of grog wouldn't hurt either. "Any pirate with a lick 'o sense wouldn't leave a riddle nor word ta be shared. Ain't nothin' so reliable as a map. Can't tell tales, can't forget. A map is all ya need." He took a large gulp of grog.

[Eulaliaaa!]

OOC: @Sagetip


BIC: Little Seadog slammed her grog down on the table, shooting a glare at Coop that could have spoiled milk. "Then 'ow'd 'e hear 'bout it, y'nitwit? Lookit, lookit 'ere!" She jabbed down at all the islands on the map with a claw. "D'ye think yer lucky 'nough t' strike out'n just find the right island? Lookit all these islands, could be anywhere on any one o' 'em, an' th'sea is a big place, in case ye haven't noticed! Do ye suppose we just go an dig up each an' every island, hoping we'll find the treasure afore we're all grey?" She took another drink of her grog, determining whether or not she'd need to use her rapier.

[Groddil]

Back at Pincer Pass, Verenya Haresbane felt the fur on the back of her neck stand up. Even with everybeast on the ship (excluding slaves, of course) armed with bows, she still dreaded what was about to happen. The tar would no longer be needed, as any other ships that made it through the pass would be torn to pieces by The Stallion's Mane. She sent Blackfang to retrieve her personal treasure stash, a little chest full of valuables, able to be carried by a single creature, and took the wheel herself. She stole a glance to The Drowned Falcon, which had the same idea as her. The ship's crew crowded the deck with pikes and slings, just in case. Filthface, still chained to the mast, did not bother her in the slightest. Any stowaways on her ship would likely die soon enough. She stared around at the pass, quite beautiful actually. While the entrances to it were rimmed by tall cliffs, the sides of the actual pass smoothed down into a pair of beaches. As the first ship entered the pass, a loud shriek rung out through the waterway. Verenya clenched the wheel tightly, nodding at Blackfang to guard her as he came scurrying up with the chest. The steersrat drew a cutlass and stood behind Verenya, barely able to hold in his fear. Then, the screams began. The leading ship immediately caught fire, as a huge volley of flaming arrows slammed into it just above the waterline. While the fire was quickly extinguished, the damage had been done. Another volley of projectiles flew through the air, this time of large rocks. They tore apart the charred and weakened timbers, sending the first ship to the bottom in seconds. The crew of The Plundered Pirate drew their arrows back even further, looking for any glimpse of the attackers. Verenya knew from experience that it took too long to fire off another salvo of rocks, so she had a small amount of her crew ready with buckets of water, just in case more arrows came. They did. Three more volleys of arrows came flying over the straight, slamming into a number of ships, the Pirate among them. Fortunately, the crew were able to extinguish the flames, and just in time. Another shriek rang out over the water as their foes emerged onto the beach. Hundreds of tree-rats, hauling dugout canoes between them. Their little crafts dumped into the pass, crowded with rats. The rats threw themselves flat, pulling large sheets of thin wood over the top of the canoe. Several oars stuck out through grooves in the canoes, effectively making it untouchable. Nearly. Verenya's crew dipped their arrows into the tar and lit them, sending flaming arrows right back at their assailants. The wooden sheets of several canoes started to burn, but the tree rats managed to extinguish them in the water. This was what the pirates had been waiting for. While the rats were vulnerable, the other crews loosed their own projectiles, quickly stripping several canoes of their crews. But not enough. Already, more rats were pouring out of the trees like insects, with more canoes to reinforce those that had been lost. By now, the closest canoes began tossing hooks up onto the decks of the pirate ships. The Plundered Pirate's Mate noticed a steel grappling hook land on the gunwhale just in front of him. Slicing the rope off, he yelled over the noise of the shrieks.
"They're boardin', mates! CUT THE ROOOOOOOPES!"
Verenya's crew, and those of the closest ships, started hacking at ropes like mad, but they eventually found themselves overwhelmed. Verenya noticed The Drowned Falcon being swarmed by tree rats, and its captain's head flying over the side. Time to go, she thought. Once a path was freed, as a smaller ship veered off course and slammed into another ship, causing them both to sink, Verenya swung the wheel hard to the right. All of The Plundered Pirate's crew held on for dear life as the ship began its turn. Those with more brains crowded to one side of the ship, making it turn even harder. Once the ship was almost on its side, Verenya grabbed Blackfang and dived into her cabin. The vixen felt a shockwave run through the whole ship as she hit shore, was picked right up by a large wave, cleared the thin strech of beach, and slammed straight into the tall jungle trees beyond. Verenya felt the ship's timbers cracking, hastily taking to the deck. The Plundered Pirate had met her end, fifteen feet off the ground, roughly wedged between several trees.

<-V->

The attack of the tree rats decimated the pirate fleet, especially now that their two largest ships were out of commission. The rats had either taken over the ships and run them aground, or sunk them with the second barrage of arrows and rocks. All but one. The Drowned Falcon, now a ghost ship, drifted out of Pincer Pass. It's decks littered with bodies of pirate and tree rat alike, Filthface the marten found himself the only survivor on the last ship. He tryed to free himself from his chains, but failed miserably. Once he caught sight of The Stallion's Mane; however, Filthface changed his tune. He began hollering to the other ship.
"'Ey, yewz! 'Ow'd ya survive? No, I doesn't care! Jus' get me off this wretched ship afore it sinks!"

[Aimless Gallivanter]

Coop stood up, enraged. Instead of going for the young one's throat, as he was tempted, he hauled out Marshall's other maps of the ocean, spreading them out. Searching through them, he found several groups of islands, and cross-referenced them with the treasure map. "Look, y'see? The treasure map is a tiny slice o' ocean, true, but we can find out where 'tis. Could be this group 'ere. Though this map 'as got several islands that this 'un don't 'ave. This'n 'ere could be it. Hm," he looked at it a bit longer, scritching his chin with one claw "Ah, look 'ere," He pointed at a distinctly shaped island on the treasure map. It matched another just on the edge of a different map. "Whaddaya think 'o that, Cap'n?"


OOC: tbh Im having a hard time with Coop. Ive had angry characters before. Dunno why its so hard with him.

[Hickory]

OOC: You can always add actions.

"Coop stood up in a fit of anger, knocking over his chair in the process."

[Aimless Gallivanter]

OOC: Yeah i guess. ill try. thanks.

[Gonff the Mousethief]

Marshall took a long sip of grog as Little Seadog went on complaining, while Coop started to be useful.
"I came 'bout this map from 'an ol' Otter fella back in the town on shore. 'Said this was the only one o' it's kind. So I b'bettin' that no matter how much we b'crossrefrencin', we won't find a match. B'the treasure, well of course it be gold. Would it not be, eh?" With another swig, he addressed the next question.
"Y'see, there is one hint that Otter gave me 'bout the location o' it. Guess he wasn't a pirate, ey Coop? 'Ere, I wrote it down." Out he pulled an old piece of sack cloth which had hardly readable marks of ink upon it.

"Island o' the wave,
Washed away by the sea,
Seen the ways o' time,
Taken by the mornin' tide.
One can wonder,
One may wait,
One may find it,
If one lays the right bait."

"I ain't got a single clue wot the old fella meant, b'I reckon it be on one o' these here islands. Maybe t'the North, or the place where the mornin' tides roll in early. O' if one o' them shrunk a bit."
The Blue Fox at there looking at the chosen few, hoping they could get a good guess of any of it. But even though he was happy and filled with the adventurous sense, all of that seemed to vanish as he took the final swig of his grog. Either Alf was shortening the amount, or his gulps had been far to gracious!

[Aimless Gallivanter]

Coop listened to the Captain's explanation, chugged  his grog, and left. He didn't want to hear what Seadog would have to say about that. Besides, he was no good at riddles. Otters, the captain had said. He shook his head. Sure, he woulda been right if it had been a pirate map. But otters don't have any sense with maps. He leaned against the railing, staring out at the waves. A riddle. He scoffed. He wished he had more grog.


OOC: im not sure what you guys know about maps, but what you're saying hardly makes sense to me. (i don't know a thing about maps though). I mean, sure, you get handed a map, you have no idea if it's a map of San Diego or of London. But by cross referencing it with other maps or your own knowledge, you can say 'wait this says the empire state building, it must be in new York city,' but your other new York city map doesn't show the northern part, just the western part, but now you know the context of the map. i mean sure it may be different in the ocean when you've hardly got accurate maps of a barely explored ocean but it kinda works the same way doesnt it? "this map is unlike any other map" is it of an ocean on the moon?? are you telling me no one else ever made a map of at least a tiny bit of the same part of the ocean???? bluh i dunno. can someone explain. (also I'll sorry about this ridiculously long rant I'm not so good with words and it's a confusing thing for me but i did my best to explain what i was thinking)

[Eulaliaaa!]

OOC: From what I know, we've been given a map of the ocean and a riddle of where the treasure is on that map. It's not just a little island or a small part of the ocean, it's a huge map. With the riddle, we find out where on that map the treasure has been hidden because the map is too big to just find a matching island on a bigger map and get to the treasure.

BIC: Little Seadog gave Coop a winning smile as he left, then focused on the riddle and stared at the map. "Island o' th' wave, washed 'way by th' sea...... hmmm, could be an island wot got covered up wi' water, or is bein' worn down by it. Errrr, seen th' ways o' time taken by th' mornin' tide? Er, maybe it.... gets lots o' big ole waves in th' mornin'?" She went to take a big drink of her grog, then frowned at the mug when she realized she had none left. Setting the mug down, she adjusted the red bandana around her forehead, picking at the sleeve of her baggy white shirt. "I dunno, tis all confusin' an' I ne'er seen a riddle like this."

[Groddil]

OOC: I never knew about the riddle until 3 posts ago. I was assuming there was a route marked on the map.

[Aimless Gallivanter]

OOC: I assumed that as well Groddil.

[LT Sandpaw]

OOC: Well there could be multiple different maps, made by different creatures who buried the treasure. Maybe the animal that wrote Scottsworth's was more cryptic, while the chorographers of Ross' and Haresbane simply gave a vague heading of which way to sail.

BTW Fatch I'll wait for your to post again before posting with Splint.

IC:


Alfonso snorted peering closer at the map. "What a load of hog-wash n' woodlander tripe." He gulped down a lot of his drink slamming the tumbler down on the table. "Don't trust otters, they're untrustworthy. He probably spat out that little rhyme to keep ye from cutting his throat. I'm thinking we ought to look at the most reasonable places, an' narrow down from there. Lookie here." He pointed to the Mossflower coast. "That's where we are, ain't it not?" He traveled his paw along the nearby islands skipping past the larger occupied ones.
"Here's some likely places, ain't to big, ain't to small. An' the right names too. Deathland, Forgotten Hopes, Black Pincer Pass- I've been to that one myself, a tricky bit of water that. Tis infested with landlubbing rats an' castaways too. More grog mates?"

[Eulaliaaa!]

Little Seadog willingly lifted her mug to show she wanted more to drink, then studied the map some more. "Huh, could be that. Lots o' li'l islands our treasure could be hidin' in. Ooh, lookit 'ere! Oldwave Island! Island o' th' wave, an' seen th' ways o' time. This could be it, mateys, this could be our treasure." Seadog looked up at Marshall to see what he would say.

[Fatch of Southsward]

Duncan Ross, surrounded by archers and crewbeasts, balanced near the edge of the rails. Waiting for the first sight of sails through the pass. The trap was well laid, he felt he could sink any amount of ships that managed to get through the pass.

Then he heard screams and battle cries. Whatever was happening, it sounded like a huge engagement. He yelled out:

"Steady, hold your ground. Whatever comes through this pass, we send them to the bottom! On my command!"

Vance was at the bow, manning the ballista. He yelled out excitedly: "Cap'n, cap'n! There's a ship cap'n!" Splint, on the second ballista, aimed his at the pass, awaiting the enemy vessel

The Drowned Falcon drifted through the pass, devastating damage being done to it by the cliff walls, as it blundered into them, but it managed to continue through the pass. Ross hesitated, he had been expecting evil pirates, not an empty ship.

"Hold your fire archers! Vance, Splint! Take out the sails! Fire archers, be ready to set the sails on fire, if we don't take down the masts!"

Vance fired his ballista first, the massive bolt zipped into one of the two masts, snapping it off low, and causing the whole thing to come crashing down.

The lone remaining sail kept the ship moving slowly forward towards The Stallion's Mane. One lone creature seemed to be alive on deck, and he was yelling for help. The only thing left was to take out the last mast, and The Drowned Falcon would be dead in the water. Perhaps then the crewbeast on board could explain what had happened.

[Groddil]

OOC: Don't take out the last mast. If you do, Filthface is gonna die.

BIC:

Filthface shivered, thinking the other ship had not heard him. He managed to make his voice even louder.
"STOP SHOOTING! PLEASE MATES, STOP SHOOTIN' THOSE BIG ARRERS! YE'LL SLAY ME! 'EEEEELLLPPPP!!!"