Adventures On The Abecean Sea, Sometimes It Doesn't Pay To Stowaway Options

[mALX]

My current Fanfic is too long to cart over here, so I'd like to offer up this much shorter one. I was inspired to do this story by an RP idea I saw floated a month ago on the BGSF. I got extremely excited about the concept, but never having been in an RP I hesitated to join. Still, the possibilities loomed and taunted till I knew I would write this. It won't be a long one, I promise! I hope everyone enjoys it.

Shivani

Adventures On The Abecean Sea

Chapter 1: The Stowaway


The pounding of the waves on the bow of the ship created a huge spray across the deck that seeped down into the anchor storage, raining steady rivulets of icy cold water onto the hard chains where Shivani huddled, struggling to retain the contents of her stomach.

At the time it had seemed a good idea, stowing away in the hold of the nearest ship at the Anvil port. The guards had spotted her, and it would have been no time at all before they connected her with the reports of a runaway slave.

Maybe she had meant to do this for years, but not at this time nor place; yet here she was. Her tail was kinking from the hard chains pressed against it, and whatever protection her thin fur gave her against the cold had lost its use against the elements that now assailed it.

Somehow she had not foreseen that, the ship putting out to sea; well, not while she was on board. Exhausted from the night spent walking in the cold air, it had been only natural to nap there in the dark of the hold. The quiet shushing of the boat as it slipped over the calm waters had not woken her from the tired slumber; nor did the gentle rolling as it set out across the Abecean Sea.

When the storm caused the ship to slam into the breaking seas, throwing the icy tentacles of itself down into the pitch dark hold…and roll violently, sometimes heeling over till she was sure the sails and mast would be washed under in one of the crashing waves; only then had she awakened to realize her circumstance.

It didn’t take long to determine the type of boat she had stowed away on either. It wasn’t the curses and coarse language spoken in guttural tones that told her, but the “Aye Aye Captain” that followed them. A pirate ship! Oh dear.

It was a well known fact that pirates considered a female on board to be bad luck, no matter the age…would they kill her? Or worse?

Thinking fast, Shivani pulled her worn leather helmet off and twisted her hair into a tight knot on her head, replacing the helmet which now sat at an odd angle. She pulled the straps tight around it, forcing it to smash the bun down flat.

Shivani pulled the rusty iron dagger she had found earlier out of her waistband and cut a length of the furled spinnaker sail that rested in the hold. She stripped off the wet leather cuirass and bound her breasts across with the length of sail. There wasn’t much to flatten yet, but there was no sense taking chances.

Tugging the wet cuirass back on proved to be a chore in the tight hull of the ship as it rocked and pounded, throwing her off balance with its violent contortions. Still, she must get out of here, or would be sitting in her own vomit shortly. Even without benefit of a looking glass she was sure her pale skin had taken on a greenish hue, for the nausea had awakened her with a stomach that rolled to match the ships movements.

Crawling out the hatch, she was instantly knocked down from her position on her hands and knees to rolling across the deck by the next lurch of the ship and ended up slammed into the gunwale where she finally gave up the contents of her stomach.

The waves crashing over the bow washed it down the deck toward the stern of the boat. Leaning back and letting the next spray wash over her felt good, in spite of the cold and wet, for the seasickness had left her woozy and faint; and the icy waters revived if naught else.

She closed her eyes, trying to fight off the next wave of nausea when a voice too close for comfort reached her ears.

“Here be the culprit.” The coarse voice was followed by a hand grabbing her up by the cuirass and dragging her toward the stern.

Shivani struggled and beat ineffectually at the massive hand that hauled her up and deposited her before a lowbrow man in the tattered blue coat of a Naval Officer. It was obviously stolen, as it didn’t fit him. The armpits and shoulders were torn, and although unbuttoned it squeezed against his bulk.

She promptly ‘shot the cat’ across the top of his boots, vomiting helplessly and unable to stop.

“Ye’ll pay for that lad, ye will!” The Captain snarled, grabbing Shivani by the back of the neck and shoving her down. “Ye’ll lick them clean then, weakling.”

The words along with the smell of what already rested on his boots caused a fresh wave of nausea and instead of cleaning, She retched some more across the toes of them. Kicking her out of the way the Captain demanded satisfaction from the one that brought Shivani before him.

"Wad ye bring the lad before me 'fore he were done emptying his load? Ye caused this, now ye clean it. An' ye can swab the cockpit as well. Git the lad's head over the side 'fore he fills the ship wi' his swill." The Captain roared at the crewman.

Grumbling and cursing under his breath, the crewman glared at Shivani. Aye, he would have his revenge, but when the Captain wasn’t standing there to see.

Shivani’s still heaving carcass was dragged back to the gunwale and deposited with her head hanging over the side so there would be no more clean-up required.

***

She woke in that position, the seas were calm now and the crew was busy hoisting the sails and swabbing the deck. Before she pulled her head up she ran her fingers around the black film that clung to the gunwale and rubbed it on her face to hide its delicate features.

Pulling herself across the deck toward the cockpit, she was stopped by a pair of Naval Officer’s boots that were too small for the feet and legs jammed into them. The Captain’s voice boomed above her.

“So, yer joinin’ the living I see. Are you gonna git to work or do we have to toss you in the briny an wake you up? This ain’t no pleasure cruise. Ye mind telling me what ye were hired to do on this ship?”

She thought quickly. She had seen kitchen work done before. Trying to deepen her voice and make it sound as uneducated and coarse as those around her, she answered.

“The galley…Sir.”

“Well git your weak carcass to it then. An' be quick about it.”

With a hurried, "Aye Aye Captain," she hoped was a good imitation of the one she had heard the night before, she scurried down the main hatch into the nether regions below decks. She tried not to draw attention as she glanced around, trying to see anything that looked like it might be a kitchen. A horrible smell assailed her nose, and she followed it to what could only be the galley.

It was filthy. A malodorous scent billowed out of a pot tied onto a grate over the small fire pit with lengths of steel wire. She couldn’t bring herself to taste the vile concoction, but upon glancing behind her saw the Captain standing in the passageway watching her. She better do something quickly.

Grabbing a measure of salt, she pulled her dagger out and began scraping the salt block into the soup. Crusts of debris filtered off the blade and into the vile brew below. Her nerves on edge by his scrutiny caused her hands to tremble, dropping a large portion of the salt block into the soup.

Her eyes fell on an overly large wooden ladle. Scooping it up, she pretended to be stirring the reeking mixture in the pot while she searched for the block of salt. Glancing back she saw the hulking form of the Captain no longer filled the passageway.

With a sigh of relief she fished the much diminished slab of salt out and dropped it back on the shelf. She would have to wait for the cook’s orders, never having cooked before.

***

A young Nord boy wandered in and stopped, surprised to see her. “Who are you? I thought I was the galley slave.” He spouted, then flushed.

Shivani felt much better about her disguise after that; the boy could not be more than ten years old and looked much more feminine than she did. His voice had a high pitch as well. Should the crew suspect a woman on board, this young lad would be picked over herself as the culprit, and could prove he was not a girl, so would not be harmed.

She lowered the pitch of her voice and tried to sound uneducated. “Uh, I’m your help.”

His eyes brightened. “Oh good, because I’m not really sure…”

Drat! She was hoping he knew more than her. “Where’s the cook?” She asked, her voice cracking from trying to lower it deeper than she was able.

“He near got killed last night in the storm. Got cut real bad, bled into that stew.”

Shivani almost gagged, thanking her stars she had not tasted of the concoction.

“You mean its just us?” Shivani nearly squeaked. The lad nodded.

This post has been edited by mALX: Nov 25 2012, 09:32 PM

[mALX]

Chapter 4: The Squall And The Brawl



Captain Dugal leaned over the charts for that cove. There were some shoals, and it was shallow. If he was quick enough to outrun the storm there was a small channel they could find shelter in. There was only a two foot draft between the keel of his ship and the bottom of the channel, the storm may blow that two foot down and they would run aground. It may be safer to anchor just offshore and ride it out.

As he was making a decision on which course to take his eye caught the two cooks walking down the passageway talking.

“John!” Captain Dugal called. They kept walking and talking as if they hadn’t heard him. “John!” He tried again. Were they deaf? He stepped quickly up behind them and grabbed them both by the shoulder.

“Are ye’ two deaf? I called ye!” He roared.

“Sorry sir!” They said in unison.

“Now ye’ both listen to me good. Today was the closest I’ve ever come to having a mutiny an’ it was over the two of ye’. I won’t have no trouble, ye’ hear? I‘ll go back to eatin‘ swill an‘ the two of ye‘ will be off at the next port.”

“Did we do something wrong sir?” Shivani asked, trying to make her voice sound like a deck hand she had heard.

“Ye’ cook too good. The men are fightin’ , not obeyin’ orders over yer cookin’. An‘ it‘s too hearty, the men are too full of energy. They clean till I don‘t know me own ship.”

“They’ll kill us if it ain’t good.” Shivani imitated his slang.

“Well I may kill ye’ if my crew mutinies over yer cookin’”

Both Shivani and John’s eyes got large. “What should we do sir?”

He pointed at Evil John. “Git to the pantry and kill some rats. Ye start servin’ em’ ratmeat stew. That ought to do it.”

“Yes sir.” Shivani said. Evil John looked sick.



***

“Look John. They are still eating the stew like it’s delicious. What are we going to do?” Shivani watched the men emptying their bowls and going back for more.

“I told you not to use that recipe you found.” John chewed his lip like he was thinking. “Hey, maybe we should start spitting in it.”

“The recipe was from Ocato, who would think it would be good? And I’m not going to spit in it, you do it.” Shivani watched another tar digging in the pot to refill his bowl.

“I have a problem making spit” John declared, folding his arms.

“So do I. What should we do? We have to do something.” Shivani elbowed John. “That is his third bowl.”

“They’ve all been doing that. When we first left Anvil they would come back for seconds in about eight hours. Now they are back in less than two hours. I’ve heard them sneaking into the galley at night to see if there is any more left. If there isn’t they get into a terrible state. It’s like they are addicted to your stew.” John mused aloud.

“That’s it John! You’re a genius!” Shivani hugged him and John pushed her off.

“Hey! Watch it, will you? What are you talking about?” John shook Shivani off him.

She flushed, realizing she had almost blown her cover. “Drugs! We will drug the stew so they get sick off it instead of loving it!”

“What kind of drugs?” John looked intrigued.

“I don’t know. We will need to find the sick bay and sneak in it when no one is around. We can’t do anything about tonight, but tomorrow's stew…that is if we can find any drugs.” Shivani looked around. “Let’s leave clean-up till later, since they are still coming and going. We need to scout out that sick bay. Do you know where it is?”

“No, we can just look in every cabin and if there are drugs, grab them. Don’t forget when we tie off that we can check out the other ships for drugs too.” John held up a large empty potato sack.

“You are a genius John, I never would have thought of that. That sack will be perfect.”



***

“Good grief, help me pull this sack John, it is too heavy for one person.” Shivani was grunting dragging the heavy potato sack full of drugs they had taken from the cabins. “And we haven’t even found the sick bay yet! I wonder what all these are? Do you think this is that Skooma they are smuggling?”

“I don’t know. Still, we should do the other ships while we are tied up close tonight. We won’t be able to get back to them later, and may need it.” John said, grunting as he helped Shivani tug the sack into the galley.

“Get the rest of that leftover stew. Lets start putting stuff in it now, that will give us a head start on tomorrow.“ Shivani started opening bottles while John dumped them in the pot and stirred.

“It looks too watery, we better add something to thicken it, or cover up the taste in case the drugs make it taste funny.” John suggested. The stew was almost clear.

“You’re right John. Good thing you’re here, you are the brains of this operation.” Shivani said, digging in the pantry for anything to add to the stew. “Here, put this in it.”

“Horse radish?”

“Yes, it will cover up the taste of anything. Now let‘s dump these empty bottles over the transom while we are still moving. The storm should blow them away.”



***

The storm had blown them quickly to the cove. Dropping the sails the crew had rowed carefully up the channel to a sheltered spot and tied the three ships together.

John and Shivani crept into the galley and grabbed the potato sacks.

“Look John, the stew is half-way down again. We better hurry.”

“Where did you hide the rest of the drugs we didn’t use?”

“I slid them into the guest quarters those other Captains are staying in while they were in with Captain Dugal.” Shivani whispered. “Let’s get out of here.”

They had barely set foot on the frigate when John clapped his hand over her mouth and pulled her down behind the dinghy. Shivani froze. The crew members that had been forced off ship were creeping over to the Black Flag. The noise of the storm approaching covered any sound they made. Just as Shivani started to rise again she caught site of the old Black Flag crew creeping off the Galleon. She ducked back down and waited. Just like the others before them, this crew slid silently down the main hatchway.

“Come on John. We better sneak down the forward hatch so no one will see us.”

When they had filled both sacks and their pockets up they started back creeping across the plank. Suddenly they heard shouting coming from the main hatchway.

“Quick John, climb down and hide on the transom. They must have discovered we were drugging them.” Shivani pushed him. “Forget the potato sack, just get down there.” She shoved the sacks under the dinghy that covered the stern, then shot around and dropped into the water, pulling herself up on the transom beside John. They pressed themselves against the hull as tightly as possible.

The shouting grew louder, the men were barreling up out of the hatchway and onto the decks. Shivani heard swords clashing and the twang of a bow. She looked at John and he shrugged. There was an all out battle going down on the decks of the Black Flag.



***

“What in the Blue Blazes be goin’ on here!” Captain Dugal bellowed, pulling his large bulk up through the hatchway.

As he climbed out he saw three crew members that he distinctly ordered onto the Galleon and Frigate. They were swinging down off the stays for the main mast, flipping through the air as if they were shot from cannons.

“Sir! These men were caught stealing some of our stew!” A deckhand yelled as he let loose an arrow with a loud twang.

“Yer fightin’ over stew? Have ye’ all gone DAFT?” It’s made with rats, ye want rat meat that bad go git down to the hold and kill some ye’…”

“TWANG”

“Git yer own stew, ye got no business on the Black Flag no more, ye been reassigned, ye bastards!”

“TWANG”

“Did ye hear me? I’m your Captain, and I told ye to stop fightin’ over the damn stew! I’ll throw ye’ all in the brig!”

“TWANG”

“SABRES! Git yer carcasses up here and give these men a taste of who their Captain is.”

“TWANG”

“I’ll teach you to steal my stew you sorry…”

“TWANG”

The clash of swords was getting too close, and Captain Dugal skirted over to the side. One look at the men told him they were high as the crow’s nest on some drug. Their eyes were as round as saucers and not a pupil to be found. Their actions were so jittery it was amazing they could fight at all. Instead they seemed to be in a frenzy of some sort, shaking uncontrollably but still agitated over a stew? What was wrong with these men? It must be that the drugs they were on made them lose their minds.



Screenies:


Black Flag/White Flag:

http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images0...bb5591d6bd0.jpg


The Storm:

http://c2.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images0...ee1dba2333d.jpg



The Fight:


http://c3.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images0...72949e0310a.jpg


http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images0...a5b3b8236a4.jpg


http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images0...07dbb46c07c.jpg


The Dead:

http://c4.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images0...50437da504f.jpg



The Cove:

http://c1.ac-images.myspacecdn.com/images0...dc18840703c.jpg

This post has been edited by mALX: Apr 6 2010, 12:14 AM