Galleon of the Black Mast [COMPLETED RP]

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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast


Gentle agile hands had tugged at bandages, smoothly so lightly over the burnt flesh as to be but feathers and she desperately hoped that her light touch was not causing Eben any pain. The skin beneath the bandages was healing well, all things considered, but Eben seemed so weak. It was as if he was being sapped by more than his wounds and she bit her lip while cleaning the skin. Before she was able to finish, tears leaked from Eben's eyes and she halted, unsure of whether she had caused him pain or not.

Before she could finish her work, Amilio approached her, asking how both she and Eben were doing. She opened her mouth to speak but a flurry of events unfolded just then. The captain walked into the little infirmary area, no doubt having heard that Eben had requested to see him. She'd backed away a little bit, unsure of whether to give them privacy or not. Just as the captain reached Eben's side, his eyes rolled and pupils dilated until it seemed his eyes were entirely black. After, he began to shake violently and the captain pinned him down by his slender arms, so drained from his bedrest. As unexpectedly as it had begun, the fit was over.

Pressing around 9Lives to get to Eben's side, trying not to see as though she was pushing the captain out of her way but rather edging around him, she checked Eben's breathing. Shallow and ragged, it was, and she furrowed her brow. His condition did not seem to be improving and she was at a loss for how to help him. Sh was not even marginally trained in caring for the damaged and sick - all that she knew of treating him stemmed from what she'd learned from the knights in the castle back home as a child.

Eben's body was limb, his burnt flesh exposed to the open air. It was airing out a little for now and she could see that the changing of the bandages was also shedding the damaged skin but there was a fluid pooled around the wound that she made a mental note of needing to dab with a rag. Glancing over to 9Lives and Amilio and then back to Eben, she was unsure of what to do. Eben was embarrassed by his injuries and ashamed for others to see him in such a state but his words, pleading for the virgin's prayer, sparked something in 9Lives's eyes. He would likely be bringing someone else in here, then?

Rummaging through the box, Tradewind extracted a clean rag, a rarity on such a ship, and more bandages. She would try to preserve Eben what little dignity he had left if she could while doing all possible to have him healed.
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Armand still had no clue scarlet was dead, or how fared the crew in aquiring new souls. he knew very little and felt helpless again. He held the amulet aroudn his neck. the one he and Anabel had aquired on the island.


" I can sense them." he spoke to the air, looking to 9Lives desk and the hourglass there.

" The demons within all of us are awakening.. short but sweet..." he held up his right hand, the one bearign the slight scars of hsi demonic transformation previously.


" This could happen.. to them all." he said, grippgin hsi fist. he knew the dark energies surrounding the ship, and as the glow came from the hourglass, he took a step back and guarded his eyes.

" Blast you, Kaymen filth! If the curse you put on me all those years ago sees me alive, i will find a way into those pits of hell you came from AND DESTROY ALL OF YOU!" he yelled, throwing he arm to his side and pointing his sword at the hourglass.

" I will follow your darkness tot eh deepest pits of oblivion and farther to recollect the honor and pride you have lost us!" He yelled again. that darkness shifted around him as he raged at the inanimate object.
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Right around the time Tabitha finished her prayer. The hourglass started to glow in a prismatic display, passing through every color in the rainbow, until finally coming to rest on a dark crimson. It shot up into the air easily breaking through the roof of the captains quarters, and floating about 25 feet over the ship. Cracks, viable against the dark sky, shot across the surface of the ancient artifact, that dark crimson seeming to leak from its fractured surface. It hovered in the air. unaffected
by the raging wind that had suddenly cut through the fog, like a butcher cutting with saw through bone.



And then it happened




View attachment 7144The hourglass exploded into a million pieces, but not with out consequence, from within the hellish device came a monstrosity. A hell bent being, with opaque, black scales running down the length of it’s serpent like body. A long neck gave way to a dragon’s head. This beast had waited a hundred years -or more- to get out, and now it was here. It’s eye, which was alive with malice and vengeance, looked at one thing and one thing only: The Nautica’s Cutlass. The man on watch in the eagles nest, unable to speak as flame erupted from the Dragon’s mouth, went to climb down to the main deck, missed a footing, fell to his death. Maybe he was lucky, because that very second flames shot down from the beasts mouth, igniting the masts and burning the wooden poles.

And like a ship bound for hell, the flaming Cutlass was caught in the Dragons wraith.

9Lives didn’t make it out of the infirmary, in fact, he barley made it three steps, rushing past Tradwind and Armand, before the ship erupted into violent motion. The old captain had been in more than his fair share of storms, that was an understatement, but nothing could be compared to this. It wasn’t just the rolling ferocity of the sea that accompanied foul weather, no, this was different; As if the sea was trying to eat the ship alive. Eye’s wide, 9Lives turned to the door leading to the main deck. The world around him slowed as a heat began to radiate into the infirmary. From the reflection on the port windows that looked out to sea, flame danced as 9lives saw the unimaginable.


A Dragon perched on the main deck.



 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Anabel stared out at the dark sea surrounding the ship for a few moments; blue hues clouded with confusion at her own emotional roller coaster. Feeling a light touch on her shoulder she turned her head, blonde locks swaying to cover one of her arms as she looked at who had touched her. Amilio, he was a nice fellow. She smiled weakly at him and nodded, hoping he would understand she was okay. She was indeed sad about Scarlett’s death but other things were plaguing her mind at the moment. Running her hand roughly across her cheek she fought off tears before she felt like something was wrong. She thought she could hear someone yelling from below deck. Turning, she began to go below deck to find the source of the noise before suddenly it was like all hell had broken loose. There was a loud sound as something came blasting out from below deck. Looking up Anabel watched in confusion as the hourglass rose higher and higher into the air. What looked like lightning bolts shot across the sky before it suddenly exploded. Another sound could be heard next, something like roaring and someone screaming as they fell. She turned to watch, wide mouthed in horror as one of the men fell to his death, blood splattering across the deck as his skull cracked open on the planks. She tilted her head back to stare up in horror at the sight of a…dragon blasting fire at the ship. “Bloody hell…” She murmured, for a moment Anabel believed herself to be hallucinating. She had only ever read about dragons in books; she hadn’t thought it was possible for them to be real. Suddenly noticing one of its feet swiping out to strike at something, Anabel ducked rolling across the deck while gritting her teeth to keep herself from screaming like a lunatic. She was pretty sure everyone else would have noticed the large dragon attacking the ship by now.

Not truly thinking clearly one thought crossed her mind. Armand. Fighting the motion of the ship as it rocked back and forth, threatening to tilt too far to one side and dump them all out into the angry swells of waves Anabel managed to stand up. Holding onto the railing for support she noticed that the fire was spreading on the ship. “Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!” She mumbled as she scrambled across the deck. Somehow she managed to get below deck, her eyes watering from smoke by now as she fought the urge to cough but she succumbed to it, her lungs attempting to deposit the distasteful smoke out of her body. Coughs racked her body as she stumbled around below deck searching for Armand. Remembering that she had left him in the captains quarters she turned and banged on the door before twisting the knob and forcing it to open. Coughing and bent over from what felt like her broken ribs breaking again Anabel managed to yell out for the man she had already saved once. “Armand!” Her voice was hoarse from coughing as she yelled. The smoke was starting to get thicker, and she could hear screams as other crewmates died above by the hand or claw of the merciless dragon. She didn’t quite know what her plan was to live, it didn’t seem like there was a logical way for them to escape from the thing above deck. Before she suddenly remembered a spell from the book in her room; snapping her fingers Anabel drew the needed symbols in the air in front of her before speaking. “Pugnare necesse est sua Nemesi ignis, aqua. Deam super invoco per vi ignis in aquam mittere Cutlass!” With the words spoken the flames running across the planks of the cutlass began to lessen as small spouts of water shot at them from the sea; evaporating once their purpose was done the water did little damage to the ship but keep the flames down until crew could completely put them out. Anabel sagged against a wall, her energy almost completely spent from the spell she had used. Her eyelids fluttered open and closed as the world tilted around her. “Armand…” She whispered in a hoarse voice while fighting off unconsciousness.
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

"From teh brash intoxication of fairytal and grim myth.. It comes." Armand spoke, standing infront of Anabel. he walked out of the smoke, seemingly unphased by the things presence.

" Not a guardian of femons or a conjuration of black magic... A Being strong enough to Hold them at bay... A dragon." He grabbed up Anabel in his arms and leaped backwards back into the Infirmary with The Captain and Tradewind, slamming the door On his captain and pushign himself against it, keeping it closed.


" Best not go out there just yet, Capitan... Might be a might bit hazardous to yer health." he said, with a nervous smile. He stood Anabel up again.

" Damn.. i wish we had more than aft cannons mounted freely on deck... we can't fight that monstro with pistols and rifles and swords." The Spaniard growled.


 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Links' gaze shifted from the ever darkening sky to the terrible beast that now threatened the whole crew. "Bloody hell...this is a nightmare..." Links' head hung low as he grasped his two blades. Wot am I gonna do wif these? Links thought to himself as the Dragon wreaked havoc upon the cutlass. Hot flames burned near Links now, only quelled by Anabel's power...such strange things, things of lore and legend, they seemed to flood Links' life all at once...Demons, forbidden treasure, angry naval kings, and dragons...was this even real life anymore? Links had to wonder, was it even worth living in this hell, with no one to love, not even himself at this point? Links had no will to fight, he had lost every ounce of willpower and determination in the instance of Scar's death. He didn't want to love anymore, he didn't want to care. It seems that all he had ever cared for or came to care for was torn from him by the cruel hands of fate. No more. His heart was hardened, his will all but evaporated. This was a broken man, Links, the once clever thief now stood, barely holding onto his weapons in the face of death.

Links raised his head to get a good look at the beast. It was a savage thing, bred from pure hate. There was no mistaking it, it was indeed evil...But aren't we all evil?

Links dropped his weapons, knowing that they would be useless in this fight. There was literally nothing he could do. Should the dragon swoop down and devour him in an instant, it would be an all to pleasant end to this evil man's life...Broken, ashamed, lonely, Links fell to his knees. He recounted his life, his accomplishments, and his goals that seemed very distant. Links was ready to die, he had lived a hard life, and things weren't getting any better, and for what he had done in his lifetime, death seemed like it was well deserved...

"Even though I'm no better than a beast, don't I have the right to live?" This quote rang out in Link's head. It rang over and over again...it was his father's last words...Links looked up again, seeing the beast in front of him clearly now, with it's eyes focused on Links...Links shot a glare back at the beast as he picked his dagger up and flung it in one swift motion. Before the dragon had finished rearing it's ugly head, Links' dagger met the dragon's eye. Now partially blinded, the dragon would flail about, taking out one of the ship's masts easily with its tail. Links kicked the barrel over that he was sitting on, it was full of gunpowder. He kicked it towards the dragon and picked up a burning plank to toss, but the ship dipped and Links stumbled, falling closer to the dragon.

Now with an angry grin, the dragon was ready to snap Links in half. Links, not at a safe distance, had to think quick. He threw the burning plank at the powder barrel and caused a great explosion, greatly damaging the dragon, and taking Links' right leg in the process...

His leg was so badly burned and mangled, he suffered from burns all over his right side, the pain was so intense, but he was lucky that the explosion only barely caught him, else it could have cost him more than his leg. Links only hopped that his plan would help the crew, nay, his new family.
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Armadn Heard a large explosion and flinched as the doorway he had just closed blasted open, sendign shrapnel wood everywhere.


": grr.. dratted inhuman beast... That's it.. i can't estand this any longer...." he growled under his breath. he set anable tot eh ground and turned tot eh doorway, flinching. a rather large piece of wodo was anchored into his back. sawbones himself would damn near faint dead away at the sight... but not armand, he smiled really big and grabbed the plank, yankign it loose. Blood and flesh were seen inside the massive hole there, somethgin shifting, as if beatign beneath two ribs, stretched apart. A lung still breathing.


"Black as coal, black as night... darkest epitaph in sight." he spoke, cracking his neck and dropping his gun and sword belts.

"Hottest flames that burn the moon... by righteous power of gods honest truth..." He removed the cross around his neck and threw it to the floor. Anabel woudl remember this gesture. the cross sealed away somethgin within him. a ward against the evil within him. an evil not even the hourglass had ahold of. the black voodoo wrought upon the spaniard BEFORE he washed up on the kaymin shores.

"Insufferable, this wreck of man, unmask the evil in my hands." he said, leapign throguht eh fire with an unhuman growl and dexterity like a fox.

Anyone who would have taken a close look at his face... would have seen his Canine teeth sharpen and extend. such was the black magic upon him.

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Outside of the ship, the dragon still thrashed and loomed over The broken form of Links. Armands shadowy form would be seen now, looming over links like the shadow of death. a shroud of blackest cloth, greyed at its fringes draped around him.

" Are ye done already boy?" he said simply, taking a few steps towards teh dragon. " Aye, then it be my turn..." he smirked, facing the half blind raging beast.

"Come if you dare.. my brother in darkness." he yelled at the dragon.


He was answered with a roar that shook the nautica's cutlass like a tsunami wave.
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

The visit didn't go as well as Amilio would have liked, a dragon landed on the ship after having set it on fire first. Amilio didn't know his at first. He had hoped to cheer Eben up some way but the sudden heat and rocking of the ship took his attention instead, and then the jolt from the dragon landing drew him out of the infirmary.

Stepping out he looked left and right but before he could register what he was seeing, smoke stung his eyes. Recovering he jumped up the steps two at a time and was at first puzzled by the little jets of water putting flames out, concerned and still confused by Links in his prone position, and even more concerned and still confused at seeing Armand and his body changing. All of this was put aside and replaced with fear when he saw the dragon. He was utterly bewildered, how do you stop something like that?! He looked down at his hands, his swords were gone, his prowess with swords was gone with them. He was useless.

Amilio brought his eyes back up to the dragon, marvel and dismay both in his expression. Then his expression widened his eyes with heart wrenching concern as he saw his father beyond the dragon. He was slumped over sideways against the railing of the ship, sweating from the heat of the nearby flames. Amilio's heart raced in his chest and he heard the whipping of air past his ears, briefly he felt the heat of the flames he sprinted through toward his father. The older man was bleeding from his head and was unconscious. The dragon, startled by Amilio's speed, turned it's head to look at him with it's good eye and aimed a kick at him. When the dragon extended it's sinewy leg and unleashed it's kick, it's paw smashed against the railing. The dragon tried snapping at Amilio as he ran by, it's jaws only closing on the breeze that struggled to keep up behind him.

His father was alive, but not awake. Amilio wondered if he would have to suffer through the pain of losing his father again and blinked away the tears that stung his eyes along with the smoke. Now was not the time. Now was the time for action, he needed to DO something. But what? Before the dragon could muster another gout of fire, he hauled his father and Links away from the potential range of it's flame.
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Anabel felt as Armand wrapped his arms around her body, picking her up off the ground and carrying her into the infirmary with the others. She noticed Eben lying on the bed as Armand set her down on the ground. She swallowed, blue hues wide with fear of the monster above. “A…A…Dragon.” She stuttered as she pointed up and then yelped as she noticed Armand had some type of wood protruding from his back. She watched as he removed the cross from around his neck and threw it to the floor. Kneeling, nimble fingers wrapped themselves around the chain of the necklace and picked it up; holding it close to her chest she sent up a silent prayer for the crew. ‘Oh Goddess, please let us all survive this.’ Swallowing again she glanced up at the others, pushing blonde locks of hair out of her eyes. She had to do something to help them all. Turning she fled from the room, fighting her way through the smoke starting to crowd the ship from the dragons rage of flames Anabel made her way to her room. Opening the door she almost fell into the room through the wall of protection she had cast around her room, the air was clean there and nothing had been touched by flames, yet. Glancing around she grabbed the book and flipped through the pages; remembering reading something about dragons before when she had read it. They liked music. Chewing on her lip Anabel realized she couldn’t sing or anything, but then she spotted something wooden sitting atop the bag of supplies for her spells. Stepping towards it Anabel crouched down, touching the flute gently and smiled. She could work with this. Taking a deep breath she picked the instrument up and stood up. Turning on her heel Anabel fled from the room, blonde locks flowing behind her like a train as she ran up the stairs to the top deck. She kept running until she was as high up as possible on deck.
Blue hues fluttered closed as she bought the flute up to her lips and began to play a slow, melodious song. As Anabel began to play her body swayed to the music, back and forth, back and forth slowly. The flames danced around her, not touching her skin as she continued to play the song loudly. The dragon stopped for a moment, blinking while its head tilted to the side as the large beast stared at Anabel. It bought its head down to stare at her; its lids blinking as it became sleepy from the music. Anabel continued to play the song, repeatedly; hoping that anyone would take their chance and kill the dragon while she had it in a trance like state. Her eyes fluttered open as she stared back at the deep obsidian pools for eyes that stared at her intently. She continued to play the song now, her lips aching from the effort after years without practice. She had no idea where the song came from as she continued to play it, the blood in her veins chilling with fear at the close proximity of the beast to her. Blonde locks whipped around her body as a gust of wind blew sprays of water aboard; putting out the flames that dragon had started. A sigh could be heard escaping the beast’s lips as it slid down into the water, its eyes falling closed before suddenly a bolt of lightning shot down the from sky, striking the beast in the chest. Its eyes opened suddenly, the pain and sorrow shown within its hues as it realized these were its final moments. Then, relief as it realized it would finally be released from its eternity of hell. The flute fell from Anabel’s lips as she stared, shocked yet slightly amazed at the way a simple bolt of lightning could kill something such destructive. She turned, tears shining her eyes as she sat down on the deck in shock from everything that had happened.<br>
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Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Through gallant collaboration, and outright heroic teamwork, the dragon was turned to ash by a bolt of lightening from the heavens. All that remained of the hell sent beast were bones and teeth that lay strewn across the main deck, like relics from a forgotten tomb. Smoke rose in steady plumes, a beacon of blackened hope in the middle of the sea. The smoke was opaque and thick, but it gave way to clear skies. The Shadow of death was finally gone, and with it, the hourglass.

The Cutlass, having lost her topsail and a good portion of the outer railing floated aimlessly towards the west. With any luck, the wind would carry them to the western continent proper, where proud kingdoms reigned the highly populated area. But only a fool would rely on luck alone and the Captain had a feeling they would be cast into the Great Northern Sea, surrounded by miles of endless sky and leagues upon leagues of salt water below.


One triumph leads to great despair for the crew.


The realization of the dragons death was quickly buried under the curtain a fear. Questions of ‘what now’ quickly floated around the ship, from the lowliest cabin boy to the highest rank, the overall fate of the ship was in question.


View attachment 74589Lives, chest heaving like an over filled barrel, shot confident looks of victory to those in the infirmary. His first order of business was ordering Sawbones to amputate whatever was left of Links’ leg and fit him with a substitute, as to which kind of substitute, that would be a choice for Links’ after he was well enough to make that decision. He only thanks Anebel and the others with a nod, it wasn’t much to a bystander, but to those faithful to 9Lives it was a great reward. He would forever be grateful for their dedication and service.

9lives, who had been around the world, fought in two wars and been imprisoned in the darkest cells, had seen a lot in his life. He drew from his experiences like a dipper draws from a stream, learning what works and what doesn’t, then applying those lessons. In this situation, panic was close at hand. Chaos would no doubt erupt on the ship if certain precautions weren’t taken. Order was, well, in order. Order: The polar opposite to Chaos. 9Lives took this opportunity to strengthen his voice and act as if all was under control.

He walked out to the top deck. With one wooden foot planted firmly over a large portion of broken railing, his voice was proud, absent of fear. He shouted orders with vocal cords as tight as piano strings.

“All hands on Deck! All hands! Don’t expect me to give you all extra portions of rum because of a little dragon? Lets get this place cleaned up! Carpenters, get on those railings! The top mast wont fix itself! Also, someone dispose of this damn carcass."

He bellowed, kicking the Dragons burnt skull with a booted foot.

"it’s beginning to smell like a wet dog!”

The Captain took the wheel of the ship as the crew worked. He saw that the wind was indeed taking them north, into the Great Northern Sea. Hope seemed bleak, but where there was will there was always a way.




View attachment 7457



END Chapter Three: Condemned voyage.
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

In all the flurry armand had somehow disappeared again. As the Captain kicked the skull, there was a slight glow left in its Eyes, armand hauled himself up fromt eh ocean, drenched and wet with a big smile on his face.

" Oye capitan... Why not use the beast that wrought this trouble to fix the cutlass more fearsome and strong then before?" he quiped at 9Lives as he beconed his men to fix their ship.




The sun was finally rising, and Armand smiled to Anabel, throwing her a wink and and flopping on deck. " Then again.. I'd be happy with just a few teeth." he chuckled, opening his mouth. three teeth on one side were missing. He hid a scrap of the dragons scaley hide behind his back.
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

That was certainly a loud ending for the dragon. The thunder from the bolt of lightning knocked Amilio off his feet and the residual charge in the air left his hair standing on end until he could get some water into it. The whole event was quiet a shocking experience.

When the tension of battle was dissipated Amilio helped get his father and Links to the infirmary, where the captain displayed appreciation and told Sawbones to fashion a replacement for Links' leg, which gave Amilio an idea. He rushed up on deck and with some tugging, removed a bone from the dragon's leg and rushed back down to the infirmary. Smiling to himself, he left the bone next to where Links was laying and winked at Sawbones before rushing back out on deck again to start work on repairing.

Amilio had heard what Armand said about using the remains of the dragon, and agreed completely.
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Part Four

View attachment 7486


<angels of="" distress="">
</angels>
<angels of="" distress="">
The Rhyme of the anchient mariner

Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, nor breath nor motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.
Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Nor any drop to drink. - Samuel Taylor Coleridge

A sea child

The lover of child Marjory
Had one white hour of life brim full;
Now the old nurse, the rocking sea,
Hath him to lull.
The daughter of child Marjory
Hath in her veins, to beat and run,
The glad indomitable sea,
The strong white sun. - Bliss Carmen




The dirge of the sea, gentle but ever present against the creaking boards and far off cry of gulls. No man, or woman, would have wished this slow death upon their worst enemy. Even the sea rats had abandoned ship by this point, choosing a salty, water logged death over the Cutlass and it’s slow funeral march. The top sail had been repaired, yes, but no wind would fill it. The sea was still and calm, mocking their plight with silent laughter . It had been weeks since wind stronger than a babies breath had been felt, the crew was steadfast, but frightened as death was again a constant on their minds.

</angels>
<angels of="" distress="">
9Lives paced while the sun beat down through a cloudless, glassy sky. ‘Out of the bees nest and into the guillotine’, he thought, coining a phrase often spoke by his former boatswain. They were well stocked on food, and other than the absence of wind the weather was quite nice. However their one problem was the same thing that surrounded them, keeping them prisoner: Water. 9Lives had checked and rechecked the maps, they were still two weeks from anything resembling land, and just as he had predicted last week, deep within the bowels of the Great Northern Ocean.
</angels>

Having given Amilio the ok for utilizing the carcass of the dragon in repairs, the carpenters were fast at work bringing life back to the injured ship. Slowly but surely she began to take on a new form, with bone lined arches and railing that looked like something out of a gothic temple rather than a ship. Although 9Lives was too immersed in his own activities to notice. During the days and weeks after the hourglass had been destroyed, he had spent his time at the wheel. He would make minor adjustments here and there, but mostly he watched the sea.


He watched and waited for any change in the still skies, blue and beautiful, but windless and wicked at the same time.


Eben, after all was said and done, resembled more of a monster than a human. Something between a burn victim and a skinny Hunchback of notre dame. One eye was gone, overgrown with cords of scar tissue and skin. His mouth was melted into a perpetual scowl that exposed his teeth when he took in breath. His nose, although in tact, had been rendered useless due to flames that scorched the inner canal of his nostrils. A Christmas ham sized portion of his side had been burnt away as well, leaving him with an awkward gate, resembling the aforementioned Hunchback.

Eben was living proof of one thing. Don't let anyone tell you being a warrior is a job filled with glory.

However, despite his disabilities, he could walk, speak, and had use of his hands and arms. Which is why he was out on this sun filled day, opium vial tucked away, working along side the other carpenters. His duty as head wood cutter was no more, but he could swing a hammer with the best of them, especially after a hit or two of the opium. His only real gripe about the day was the damn dragon's bone. He hated it, hated touching it. He was raised by god fearing folk, and anything that had came from that hourglass was bad news, in his eyes.

 
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Armand sat in a loop of rope reloading his pepperbox pistol. He had a groggy, complacant look on his face.


" he he he he he...well, I guess this curse has one perk.. I'll outlive everyone else when we run out of supplies." he chortled. he paused and slapped himself mentally.

" What the hell are you saying, you daft, SPanish fool." He said, mocking anabel's voice.

He noticed the captains habits of taking the wheel as of late.
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast


Happily lending a hand wherever she could be of use, Tradewind's exuberance was not matched by her strength or carpentering abilities. For the most part, they humored her especially when considered that her able-bodied and healthy crew had joined them, more than tipping her over the scale of value to the ship. Still, she was not resting on her laurels and rather was doing her very best to lend a hand, though some of them might have preferred it if she stopped trying to help quite so much. As it was, the hammer was very heavy and her nail was not going in straight. One of the men took the hammer from her gently and pushed her off on some errand that he half mumbled. Frowning, she continued around the ship, looking for something else to do.

Fluttering from here to there around the ship, she offered her services to pretty much everyone that was working but thus far, each of them had sent her to ask someone else. She knew damned well by now that she'd spoken to each and every one of them and that they were just sending her in circles. Defeated, she tromped up to the captain himself, her eyes hopeful. If no one else had anything for her to do, perhaps he would?

"Captain! Captain! Have you anything needing done that I can be helping with?" She's come to terms with her own failure at carpentry, especially with no one willing to teach her. Trying to learn just on her own with a hammer and some nails was going spectacularly poorly and none of the other men wanted her around to hinder their progress and maybe force them to put up with her accidentally driving a nail through her own thumb. Truly, her willingness to help and her optimistic attitude were doing little good compared to skill at practically rebuilding the entire ship.
 
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View attachment 75349Lives drew a heavy breath, his eyes remaining open, unblinking throughout the process. He had developed a strange habit, over the last couple weeks, unable to take his eyes off the rolling sea for more than a few minutes at a time, even going so far as to have Lutz or Brutus bring him his meals while at the wheel. For someone observing from a vantage point, it might seem a bit crazy as the ship hadn't moved more than a few feet since he had taken the reins. Regardless, 9Lives was steadfast. In his stomach a knot had formed, after everything, all the trial all the tribulation, would it end like this? Stranded at sea in a floating tomb?

The Captain was rattled from his head lock by a near by voice. He sized up the slight man who seemed to be lighthearted in this situation, but 9Lives expected nothing different from the southerner...who 9Lives suspected might be from much further south than he would ever know.

"And what of the rest of us?"


Asked 9Lives, not at all impolitely

"Would you watch us die and resort to drinking the ocean?"


Tradewind approached, 9Lives placed a Massive hand on the small of her back, pushing her towards the wheel, answering her question. He needed a little break. The three of them were in earshot of each other, as 9Lives turned his back, leaning his wooden arm on the railing, addressing the sea as much as Armand or Tradwind. He rarely talked to the crew on a personal level, it was bad practice, but these were bad times.

His voice was clear over the motionless ocean and still wind.

"What would...you have me do?"
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Anabel looked up as Armand sat next to her; it was over. Glancing around her blue hues took in the sight of the wrecked ship; it looked as if death itself had hit the ship from above and descended upon the poor souls that gave their lives to live a pirate’s life. Swallowing she stayed silent as she watched everyone begin repairing the ship as if nothing had happened. 9Lives seemed a bit crankier than usual and she could understand why; this ship seemed to be his life and now it was practically ruined but the carpenters were working hard day and night to repair the damage caused by the dragon. Swallowing she stood, dusting her pants off with the palms of her hands Anabel walked around, lending a helping hand to any she could. Though she was not skilled in carpentry she knew how to hold a board or bone for the others and helped a bit with some railing that needed some repairing. She had even wandered below deck to help the cook rummage together a meal for the crew from what little supplies she had left. Walking above deck again Anabel glanced around, noticing Armand standing near the captain and Tradewind. Her pulse sped up and she couldn’t help but clench her fingers together as she stared at him for a moment. She shook her head, chastising herself for her foolish behavior before walking towards them as she heard the last words of Claudius 9Lives question; who was he talking to? She didn’t want to bother him though so Anabel kept her mouth shut, pushing blonde locks of hair out of her face as she walked towards Armand. “Is there anything I can help ya with?” She asked, she didn’t know what exactly she could do. She wasn’t the most skilled member of the crew and she needed something to keep her mind occupied at the moment; Anabel didn’t want to think about the possibility of them being lost at sea and never finding their way home, or whatever home was.
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

"Pray, Capitan... Pray to the sea you keep staring at so intently." He said, putting his pepperbox in his shirt and pulling out a bottle of rum he had ben saving for almost a year. It had an ancient red wax label from the south sea. He handed it to Claudius.


" Who knows how this will end but the heavens aye?" he chuckled, his face became serious suddenly.

" Claudius... really, Please try to relax a little. we survived a dragon. a reall honest to god dragon, we dont KNOW that we are going to die, We've been through doldrums before. this could be only a few days. The hardest part isn't surviving the lack of wind... it's surviving eachother during the anticipation of it."


He closed his eyes and stared at the cloudless sky. the depths of the ocean above where as desolate as the one below.

"I wish I had been there ont eh mainland to help you... I really do." he said in a moment of regretfull tenderness.
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast


The smooth wood in her hands was an oddly nostalgic feeling, one that she gratefully accepted from the captain. It was something at least that she was used to and had been good at, as opposed to the feeling of failure at being gently pushed away from trying to help in the repairs of the boats. Currently, with the lack of wind, there was little going on for her to take over. The water was clear, the ship in control but the most pressing aspect was the crew, which seemed to be making at least the best of things for their position. She listened carefully to Armand's words, biting her lip with 9Lives's back to her.

Dropping her eyes to her hands, Kaija contemplated what to say. The galleon was a beautiful boat, but it fared best if there was a wind to keep it. Still, there was hope. It was a vague shot and perhaps one that the captain had already dismissed, but it didn't hurt to ask. on many a ship, the precaution was taken. The only fear was that through all the trials and tribulations the ship had faced, these would not have been observed. Understandable, but fatal.

"Captain, you wouldn't happen to have oars below deck, would you?" Even if they ran out of food and water before they could row themselves to land, it was better to go out with a fight. Especially if they could row themselves to a place with more wind and catch the breeze to take them safely to land. Ingenuity and determination were her strengths and if she had to, she would fashion two oars from dragon bone and force Tayle to row with her. People that she had grown to love and trust were on the ship - the captain, Eben, Tayle, Bowsy, Amilio, and of course Tabby! If nothing else, she could not let Tabby die. She'd protect them all tooth and nail, but she'd sworn her protection to Tabby.

Brushing a strand of brown hair from her face, she observed the busy workings of all the men on the ship from here. The Cutlass had faced hard times lately, losing so many people. Though the deaths of the many crew members had scarcely affected Tradewind, who had been new amongst them, she was certain that their deaths had weighed heavy on the captain. Then in the city, to see his first mate fall like that... even if it had been of her own volition, it must have scarred him something fierce. And now finally, to have his whole ship stranded and facing death... fortune did not seem to be smiling on Claudius 9Lives. To her knowledge, he hadn't taken on a new first mate after Scar had died and perhaps he never would.

Thinking on this, Kaija's eyes caught sight of the lanky frame in a black coat that was none other than her old first mate. Tayle was agile and capable, even now helping to fashion the bones; he was charming and polite, the gentleman of her crew, and she had drawn solace from his pleasant if quiet presence. It was painful to imagine watching him die and she could empathize with how 9Lives felt in that regard. It was a tribute to his stoic nature that he was even still sailing so soon after Scar's death instead of drinking himself stupid in the pub like she herself knew she would be tempted to do if something of that nature happened to Tayle.

These reflections were useless now, though, and her energies were better focused on morale and fixing the situation instead of dwelling. Painfully at first but then easing into it, Tradewind smiled again. "We'll get out of this, captain. I've faith in you."
 
Re: Galleon of the Black Mast

Time passed in a strange way on this barren stretch of ocean. It was godforsaken, a place where even the gulls wouldn’t go. 9Lives wondered if he was the only one who had noticed the absents of birds here. The ever present, ever pestering bird of the sea seemed to have disappeared completely.


The old Captain, who was looking even older with the sun highlighting his every feature, turned to Amillio.

“The heavens indeed. So much loss has left me strained, my ambition to sail, even as we do, has all but left me. I feel like the joy of living is all but gone for me. The smell of salt in the air, the ocean on a cold morning, even the tenderness of a women, all gone for me, I fear...."


To Anable he placed a hand rough, sea worn hand on her shoulder.

“No, you have served this crew well. All we can do now is wait.”

In response to Tradewind, the Captain smiled, showing several gold teeth that had seen better days.

“Aye, the oars. They have been used to repair the ship, she was dying. The only ones we have left are for the long boats, but I will not abandoned the ship…that is not to say all you you…”


His eyes sank away from Tradwind and left to rest on the distant horizon.

All at once, a sudden surge pulled at the cutlass, spinning it’s bow northward and pulling it with a great force. The Captain knew at once what had happened, and knew, without a doubt, where the ship was headed and why they had been stuck in motionless waters.



View attachment 7618The great Oceanic falls. Where the Ocean ends and the great beyond begins. Most sailors have only heard of it through legend, as those that had actually seen it are now deceased. However what lies beyond the falls is not really the end, but rather, something that cannot be described by the words of this world. It's true meaning rests somewhere between an afterlife and a new beginning, and with that Captain takes comfort.

The falls, as the myth goes, only becomes visible to those truly lost at sea. Not just lost in a physical sense, but also spiritually and mentally lost. When all hope is abandoned, only closure remains. Perhaps Captain 9Lives was lost, perhaps the only way for him to go on was to venture over the falls.

He was ready for a new venture, a new beginning, a new hope. To whatever may lie beyond.








9Lives had heard the stories of captains who would not let their crew abandon ship, even in the most dire of situations. He would not take that option from them. He would not take their option of life. However, if he wanted them to at least have a chance he would have to act fast.

“Lower the long boats, before the pull from the falls becomes to strong. All those who wish to ditch the ship may do so now, with my blessing. Find land! And live with the stories we have created together until your dying day!”

The pull from the falls began to increase, the Captain took the wheel from Tradewind, seemingly unmoved by the prospect of death. He wasn’t crazy, but instead accepting his fate.

“I will take it from here. Your destiny and mine may intertwine, but I won’t force your hand. Should you stay aboard, there is certainly only death over the falls.”

The Captain stood alone as all eyes feel upon him. Long boats were lowered with a splash into the waters below. Time was of the essence for those that wished to live.

 
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