Every. Pirate. Trope.

From the journal of Namor, Captain of The Trident:

Jan 23: Met with Soto's man Corey at Benchwarmers. He suggested that we contact Hollander the next time we're through Bastia. Some faerie lair or something was creeping out the soldiers and they wouldn't go near it. Pay sounded good so I told him we'd look into it.

Outfitted The Trident with new sails, war machines, and a full crew. Look good, feel good!

Jan 26: We left The Frack and our extra galley in Monmurg and departed for Bastia as a fleet of four, aiming to check in on the faerie hook and then plot our course for the adventure. We had a treasure map leading to a deserted island east of Bastia that sounded promising, the faeries, and then the dungeon to the north that we couldn't ever seem to reach.

The treasure map had a simple numbered cipher that we quickly decoded, "The smaller treasure is by the tree." That was intriguing to us since "smaller" indicated there was a "bigger" treasure somewhere.

En route to Bastia we came across a mysterious magical fog centered on a massive whirlpool. There was a clear event horizon for the edge of the pool, but it didn't have an overly strong pull otherwise. Without any nerds on the crew, we were flummoxed and just avoided it. We thought to map its location for the future but it disappeared once we passed out of the mist.

After a few hours and wildlife encounters, we arrived in Bastia and spoke to Hollander. Apparently the faeries were Redcaps, or more accurately a Redcap since they're solitary. Tales said they could only be damaged by magic weaponry and they were super fast and dangerous so we backed water on that until we could locate some more enchanted arms. Maybe there'd be some in the treasure from the map?

Jan 27: Rested and resupplied, we struck out for the island. We arrived to find two beached longships and quite a number of men at work. There were little rafts past the breakers with divers seeking... something. Unfortunately for the longships and the crews that owned them, they had no war machines and essentially had their pants around their ankles. We positioned our galleys to threaten with various large weapons and signaled that they should row out to parley with us or else.

They sent three emissaries, barbarians with a large, blusterous spokesman who seemed to be their chief. He made a lot of (stupid) assertions about his clan's ability to kill us should he choose, until finally Captain Admiral Morgan the Neat gave him the inevitable ultimatum. Work for us or you know, like, die or something, shrug.

We laughed at the nonchalant tone but the notViking didn't, so we seized him. His two partners were arguing about accepting the deal before it went tits up and after a short scuffle Ulfgar(?) the leader was subdued and Bjorn the smart notViking had killed the third, resistant partner. All under a flag of parley. We'd hang our heads in shame if we had any.

Turns out Bjorn saw the writing on the wall and was fully on board with his clan's survival and promising future as part of our operation. I had been mulling over starting a coastal raiding crew and these guys just dropped in my lap. I offered to employ Bjorn directly and he accepted. He stabbed the captive Ulfgar and we told the barbarians on shore that he was killed by our fighter Farland in honorable combat. A handful resisted the story and challenged Farland, but after he killed one with a single spear-thrust they gave it up.

We left our henchmen to oversee the continued retrieval of what was apparently a sunken ship's treasure while our main party followed the map inland. We quickly located the only tree on the island, a large banyan with many tendrils running to the sand. I tracked around and located where some of the tendrils had been placed in an unnatural X, marking the proverbial spot. Morgan and I checked for traps and determined it had some kind of noose rigged to snatch up the unwary. I stepped back while Morgan cracked her knuckles, preparing to disarm it.

After we cut her loose from hanging upside down, we started digging, revealing a chest with a small amount of treasure and a captain's log inside. The shipwreck off the coast was this captain's and this buried treasure was what he could get away with before it sank. Unfortunately he never made it back to civilization to reclaim his lost cargo, since we found his treasure map on the pirate fleet we destroyed.

Back on the beach, the boys had refused to continue working, citing some large shadows in the water that looked dangerous. Vee the Venturer downed a potion and changed shape into a giant squid. This allowed him to detect the two great white sharks prowling about. The big fish were hostile and swam at the notMerlin, but after a short bloody battle they were dead and big squid tentacles helped us unload the cargo of copper ingots from the sunken hold.

We set sail for Bastia and arrived just before dark, unfortunately not any richer in magical weapons. We had acquired some oil that we thought would do the trick, but we needed to get to Monmurg for the opening markets in Feb. We assured Hollander that we'd be back for the Redcap.

Jan 28: Arrived in Monmurg after an uneventful trip. We set to unloading cargo to our warehouse and preparing for the next adventure.

Batman and Breadcrumbs

Knight Captain Dawes will be pleased to receive this report from our reconnaissance into the Dreadwood west of Bonevale.

Our company consisted of Fr. Cassian, June the warrior, Zimon the bounty hunter, and your humble servant Knight Defender Percival. Our objective was to secure the treasure and defeat any Chaotic entities encountered at the location depicted on one of the treasure maps we had found during our adventures. This would require a strike several days into the cursed Dreadwood.

Our hired scout still refused to provide a name but represented his trade well, navigating the dark forest efficiently and guiding us safely through. Around the end of the first day's travel we discovered a large camp of bandits involved in the production and distribution of the illicit elven vice "nutbutter". Now, to me, this substance tasted creamy and savory, like it would pair well with a jam or marmalade. But to the elven youth it was a gateway to harder, fattier temptations leading invariably to heart disease and death.

It was our duty to intervene, mostly because among their vats and grinding wheels, Zimon observed that they possessed goods stolen from innocent travelers. My task is not the dietary health of heathen demon-folk.

Outnumbered several times over, we decided a shock assault to awe them then an attempt to force their surrender was our best tactic. I led the charge astride my barded warhorse Dawnbringer and we quickly reduced their ranks. We called for their surrender but they fought on, forcing us to strike them down except for those that Zimon was able to apprehend with his peculiarly shaped leather sap. When the dust settled, we had five prisoners including their two ringleaders along with their recovered treasure. We camped there for the night but were disturbed by an elven patrol out of Bonevale. We recognized some of the patrolmen and they offered to escort us back to town.

The next morning June the warrior started meowing like a lunatic into the woods. Despite my suggestion that she get a grip, she continued, eventually welcoming a massive lion that she called "Sprinkles". I mouthed a silent prayer to Pelor that the creature was under control and to my sight it did not intend us harm so I let it slide.

En route back to "civilization" or what passes for it on the frontier, a large stone structure loomed suddenly out of the forest ahead. It was an uninhabited keep, clearly in need of some repair but serviceable. The construction was human influenced with elven touches, but that will buff out. We scrawled various versions of "dibs" on the stone near the gate and continued on.

Some brigands tried to hide from justice within the trees above but Sprinkles and I both discovered them as we passed beneath. I offered them their lives in exchange for surrender and these boys were smarter than the last group. We added them to the prisoner line and proceeded to Bonevale.

Sheriff Kai Lan offered a bounty for the captives, particularly the leveled ones, which we accepted. We spoke on behalf of those who came peacefully and left them to the elf's mercy. He mentioned the keep was an old outpost that had fallen to disrepair and been abandoned. We informed him of our intent to recover it and claim it as our own. He excitedly started talking treaties and alliances and whoa buddy let us get it operational first.

Zimon continued his search for the elusive Methany, who I am beginning to suspect is a toothless harlot of poor social value, but he is dogged in his hunt. He posted fliers and hired criers and even offered a large reward, a life-changing amount for any commoner. For his sake I hope she shows up soon. The desperation of his search is unseemly.

We stowed our treasure at our villa within town and rested, set to depart the next morning. The Dreadwood is unwelcoming and rife with danger, this time in the form of an ambush of ghouls. The undead closed with us before we could react, striking June several times and inflicting her with a horrible disease. Fr. Cassian rebuked many of them and the rest were struck down by our blades. Pelor's miracles cured June of her ailment and Zimon tracked the ghouls back to their lair. We were intent on destroying the source of the evil and definitely not motivated solely by potential lair loot.

A cavern loomed before us, which Zimon assured us he could scout safely. We prepared our magics and prayers just in time for him to run screaming from within, "Ghouls! There's ghouls chasing me! Tons of 'em!" It is often the case with adventurers that they hoard resources like scrolls and potions, never to be used lest they be wasted. Not so with our party because we are wise and smart and crafty (and lucky). I had a potion blessed by our Lord of Light that would destroy undead in bursts of radiance. Surely there was no better scenario to use such a thing, so I quaffed it and stepped forward to meet the tide of slavering ghouls.

The ensuing battle could hardly be called such, with effective support from our skirmishers, rebuking in the name of Pelor, and the power of the divine potion destroying the undead in waves. Fr. Cassian and I both sought the source of this horrible corruption, certain there would be a sinkhole of evil within, but we could find no such thing. The ghouls were the marsh variety, no where near a marsh, and appeared to simply be loitering here, like a storehouse of evil. Zimon pulled a curiously bat-shaped metal piece from one, another clue that there might be more going on here. We were determined to investigate in depth once we could get to safety.

The ghouls had treasure that we repossessed and we retreated to the ruins of our keep. We spent some time poking about, familiarizing ourselves with the site, before settling down to camp. Some pilgrims happened by, Pelor devotees, and although we shared our fire with them they were reluctant to join our holy mission. I must practice my wordcraft as often as I practice my warcraft.

Laden with loot and a mystery to investigate, we returned once again to Bonevale. A suspicious band of "mercenaries" flying the banner of the Order of Reese passed by. A short conversation led us to suggest that they camp at the site of the previous battle with nutbutter bandits. Perhaps the scene would impress upon them the error of their ways, since they had already been run out of town by Kai Lan. If not, we would know where to find them to apprehend them when we could.

I write and send this update ahead of our arrival in Gradsul, where I will report in person. Until then,

Knight Guardian Percival
Bonevale

The Bloody Coast

From the journal of Namor, Captain of The Trident: 

Jan 11: We were able to make contact with BalaSoto and Bacon both, arranging the freedom of up to 600 ex-slaves through the Patriarch's good will (and purse). Some critics might argue that we're just selling slaves to Soto instead of Monmurg, but I'd ignore those critics as irrelevant, poor, and uncomely. 

We also learned a little about the leader of Monmurg, Dread Pirate Hogg. He was offering to pay for information about the revolt on Jetsom but we were already under contract with Soto. We didn't want to complicate things with a new, unknown variable. He had also decreed that anyone caught in Monmurg with cursed magic items would be flayed alive. Yikes, dude's serious.

Our fleet departed for Jetsom with a northerly wind. The Master Mariners were able to maximize our speed and we made it around midnight. Our away party consisted of Captain Morgan, Usopp the assassin, Lazlo the archer, Farland the Quartermaster, V the venturer, myself as pathfinder, and various henchmen. We hoped to find Bacon's boys massed on the beach and ready to go but we weren't that lucky, so we set off for the interior.

It was a clear night with a waxing but nearly full moon. A trio of adventurers hired to guard one of the nearby plantations attempted to impede our progress, so we killed them, took their equipment, and hid their bodies. I mean, they insisted on violence, so we delivered.

We located Bacon's people massed near the wood line and ready to travel. There were nearly 500 of them so we got them moving as quickly as possible after securing oaths of service in Soto's name. As we ferried them onto our sailing ships The Frick and The Frack, a local plantation owner happened by with a wagon full of apples and seed. His name was Johnny and he lamented the loss of his slaves and livelihood, the latter consisting solely of what was on the cart. We snatched him up so he couldn't run off and raise the alarm. Farland assured us he had a plan for him and I promptly forgot he existed.

Jan 12: By midday, we were underway and bound for Bastia. We spotted a lone galley, clearly a pirate, who sped off rather than tangle with us. We also suffered a broken rudder which Captain Morgan and the Rogue, Lazlo's hench, were able to repair.

Jan 13: We anchored in the bay outside Bastia to see how Soto wanted to play things. After a brief meeting, he paid us for our work and instructed us to dump the cargo on the docks, and we were happy to comply. I gave him back his bronze token which he snatched and tucked away in a desk drawer. Weirdo.

As long as he's got coin and business, we love us some Soto. He still wanted that meet with the teamster boss Hoffa and we had a little time, so we agreed to revisit the not-Italian restaurateur now that we had some experience under our belts. I agreed to keep quiet given my temper and likelihood of cutting the greasy fuck.

Jan 14: Hoffa received us and took the bait, the hook, and nearly the pole that Morgan laid out for the meeting. It occurred to me as I declined to eat the 14 different kinds of oiled up bread he was offering that the tone of Soto's meeting might change a bit from the original intent. Hoffa had as much as admitted to having Bacon shipped to Jetsom in the first place. Ended up costing Soto big to get him back. I laughed to myself, earning some glances, before we delivered Hoffa, gift basket of bread in hand, to Soto's spot and split. Whatever they were gonna get up to was none of our business.

Sitting pretty on a good payout, we debated our next step. We *still* had that damned dungeon to explore, the one V came out of, so we set off with The Phoenix and The Frick to do a little honest plundering of the mythic underworld.

If I hadn't have seen it with my own eyes I wouldn't believe it either, but that same pirate galley from a few days ago showed back up in a fleet of six. Ah shit. We had the wind but they had the position so evasion was off the table. Unfortunately for them, they had no war machines while we sported three ballistae. If they wanted to tangle, we could tangle.

The party aboard The Frick attempted to threaten the enemy by signaling "We're gonna pick more than your pockets", whatever that means, to which the enemy replied, "Don't threaten us with a good time." Looked like battle was inevitable so we positioned accordingly. I had command of our galley while the party remained on our slower, more vulnerable sailing ship. If the enemy wanted us they'd have to board, which would be to our group of adventurers' strength. I had speed, two ballistae, and a clutch of marines at my disposal so I felt comfortable on my own.

The pirates tried to spread out and flank us, but without war machines of their own they suffered heavy fire prior to being able to close to boarding distance. We disabled several of them, with Captain Morgan even calling the shot that pinned the enemy Captain to his own mast with a ballista bolt. Once boarding began, some quick and bloody fighting ended with us in possession of three new ships, a captive pirate captain that might work for us, and a slew of booty. We set to repairing the damage from the battle and limping for Bastia.

Jan 16: Bastia. We docked to repair. I took command of the 2.5 rower galley *The Trident* and we laid up for some much needed R&R. Next up? Hell I don't know, but we won't make it there anyway. The seas are dangerous along the Bloody Coast. 

Opportunity Knocks. And Knocks. And Knocks.

From the journal of Namor, First Mate of The Phoenix: 

Dec 29: Our prize was rebranded The Phoenix and is an upgrade over The Bill. We are all excited with our fiery colored sails and new paint job.

Dec 30: Met with Soto's man Corey. Shared some tales, set him on digging up some rowers that have seen the ghost ship, and bought a comically fancy saber from him. He was adamant that Bala Soto, leader of Bastia, had a job worth our time. I told him we'd look into it.

Jan 4: Bastia. Slipped the steward a few coins at the stronghold to jump the line and get in to see the big man. First meeting with someone that's not Hollander. He seemed like kind of a dope, little disorganized, maybe even a little dull. But his people like him so that's something.

Meeting went ok. He wanted us to investigate the slave revolt on Jetsom Island, off the coast east of Monmurg. He thought his man Bacon was involved. He was paying well for information and doubly well for rescue. I accepted and told him we'd depart within a few days.

We checked in on our project out at the Skull and to our delight found three of the captives broken and ready to move. We packed them up and shipped out en route to Pearlshire, the port town on Jetsom.

Jan 5: Two merchant vessels spotted from the crow's nest by Lazlo. No escort and only one ballista between them. Captain Morgan gave the order to intercept. The prey split, we boarded and captured the unarmed one while we assumed the other was running for safety but the brave bastard turned back on us and engaged. We offered a flag of quarter if he'd just let us rob him, but his flaming ballista shots showed his intentions. We closed with him, boarded, and killed him for his audacity.

Turns out they were slavers of no known allegiance. There were a mess of pilgrims on board one as passengers and a hold of slaves on the other. The pilgrims joined the slaves in the hold and their crews were addressed by Captain Morgan. The options were simple and they saw reason, having only lost one helmsman in the fighting to Lazlo's sniping. Meet the new boss.

The surviving captain of the first vessel couldn't really be trusted or ransomed, so he walked the plank. He pissed himself and wouldn't jump so I had to prod him into the waves with my blade. Coward. We collected our new ships and diverted from our original course towards Monmurg. We had merchandise to move.

Shit winds kept us at sea for a few days. I captained The Frick while Usopp captained The Frack. Some of the others claimed interaction with spiritual or elemental beings and ended up with weird items to show for it. A gemstone ring, a glowing trucker hat, and a winged cat. Whatever, man, I just work here. I shudder to think of the madness that could beset us on an extended voyage.

We fished a fighting man out of the drink just outside of the city. He thanked us with a gem. Said his ship was destroyed by The Shadow. That thing is always around.

Jan 7: Monmurg. V the Venturer was delighted to receive our good news and profitable wares. He and the Quartermaster took care of warehousing and such. The rest of us drank.

Jan 8: Sail The Phoenix for Pearlshire on the NE side of Jetsom. Procan be praised we arrived without incident to a town with a good harbor, small fort, and decent sized market. Rumor had it adventurers were wanted to put down the revolt. If we could get paid twice for a single job? Yeah, we're doin' that.

Sgt Pepper at the garrison offered a bounty on "Toby", the revolt leader, along with a bounty on each slave returned to their master. I could see the path to profit here but we needed more info. Others of the crew dug up some rumors, mostly that Toby was from off the island and a general location. It seemed foolish to just march off directly at him, especially since we suspected that Toby was actually Bacon, but we left vague impressions of interest with Pepper before sailing to scout the northern and western coastline of the island.

We made landfall and our away party of adventurers quickly learned we were on the right path. We found plantations turtled up in fear of the insurgents. We also found a former slave owner with the vapors who gave us excellent information including a solid description of Toby. Yep, it's Bacon.

We pushed inland and found a patrol of insurgents, worn out ex-slaves with spears, a little jumpy but surprisingly disciplined considering. I showed them the token Soto gave me to identify us as his agents and they sent a runner to fetch Toby/Bacon. He returned and was distraught to see me there, as we have some history. I laughed in his face and it was just beautiful that his fate rested in my hands.

Turns out Bacon had ~100 fighters and ~200 civilians that he wanted to extract. That certainly complicated matters as our mission was only for him. But a good pirate knows how to adapt the situation to his advantage. We declined, repeatedly, his stupid insistence that we could just take Pearlshire and cause a full blown revolution on the island. Dipshit tryin' to get us at odds with Monmurg and also risk getting himself killed. We had no idea what the political situation was and his appeals to "making the world a better place" had us laughing, full belly laughs, wheezing and everything.

Eventually we told him we could move ~1000 people, but he'd have to hold out for us to get our other ships. Off we went back to Monmurg.

Jan 9: The Shadow was spotted on the horizon as we approached the coast. Morgan squinted real hard and wiggled that ring she got from thin air at it. It turned as though to approach and she looked surprised and a little panicked. More squinting and it went away. What the hell was that?

We're gonna pay for a message to Soto with an offer to sell him the slaves as freed men who I'm sure would love to settle in his idyllic little domain. If he can't pay for 'em, well, there's other markets. Things are looking great for our crew and I'm that much closer to captaining my own galley.