"We just can't have it easy, can we?" - Porcius grumbles. "Girl, are there other keys on that ring? One of them might open this hatch."

He eyes the hatch and its frame, looking for any weaknesses in the construction that might be exploited - say, by a strong dwarven shoulder or a makeshift battering ram created out of a bunk.

"Well, if we can't get it open, we'll just have to use the big gapin' hole in the side. I'd rather not take a swim, though."

Poricus moves to the hatch to examine it further.  The hatch opens up and away from the slave hold.  He pushes on it to test it, and it is firmly in place and doesn't budge at all under any force he muster.

As the dwarf is examining the hatch, Sterling moves toward the gaping hole in the bow of the ship to look out it.  The Stout halfling is met with a bone-chilling blast of cold air and driving rain.  He sees a world of in shades of gray.  The sky is blackly overcast, but Sterling thinks that it's still daytime.  The wind is sharp and fierce, blowing rain droplets so hard that they sting his face and exposed skin.

He also sees that the ship has run aground on a beach.  On this side of the beach, craggy rocks and cliffs rise to forty or fifty feet.  The cliff descends as it continues down the beach, until it's no more than a line of rocks a few feet high at the far end.

However, the thing that quickly catches Sterling's eyes is the sight Hafkris staggering up and down the beach.  He's about thirty feet away from the galley.  He has a broadsword on his weapon's belt, and he's marching up and down the beach like a soldier on parade while singing grotesque sailor songs.  As he watches silently for a moment or two and the wind shifts direction toward him, Sterling can hear snippets and snatches of Hafkris' singing.

Jon moves next to Sterling and looks out, shielding his face as best he can from the cold and rain with his hand.

Quote from: Sigmund;433485Jon moves next to Sterling and looks out, shielding his face as best he can from the cold and rain with his hand.

OOC: Jon sees the same scene before him as Sterling does.

squinting in the blow I shake my head and look up at Jon with a mix of wonder and confusion. Whispering "...that bastard Halfkris be doin there?" Then loudly "Hey everyone look here!" as I brace my legs wide against the swaying of the hulk and glance about for a stout pole I might be able to use as a staff...

"Damn that rotten bastard" - Porcius mutters when he sees the slaver. "We could try to jump into the water and quickly make for cover, but he's too close: even with the wind and the rain and the twilight I reckon he would spot us. Let's just wait a bit, see if he leaves on his own.

The dwarf retreats into the ship's hold and starts examining the rest of the hull. With some luck, the impact might have loosened some planks on the other side enough to pry them out of place.

Quote from: skofflox;433578squinting in the blow I shake my head and look up at Jon with a mix of wonder and confusion. Whispering "...that bastard Halfkris be doin there?" Then loudly "Hey everyone look here!" as I brace my legs wide against the swaying of the hulk and glance about for a stout pole I might be able to use as a staff...

"He looks mad, may the Sea Captain preserve us." Jon replies. He tries to be careful to remain hidden from Halkris' sight, "My Da has told me stories of folks who go mad when surviving storms at sea... mayhap Valkur has punished his mind... or Umberlee has gotten hold of his soul."

"... or he's dead drunk." - adds Porcius. "That's what you would get if you just lost your ship and your livelyhood, no matter how foul it was."

"The Sea Captain Valkur, Lord of the Waves would protect me, because I wouldn't be some dirty pirate scum. My Da says Valkur watches over all good sailors, and takes them home when it's time, but that Umberlee prevents them from rooting out the pirates for good cuz she likes the trouble they cause. That pirate scum deserves what Valkur gave 'im." Jon says smugly.

A young man that looks to be in his early twenties whispers, "what do we do?  To that bastard we're only meat, and I doubt he'll reason with us.  Especially now that he's acting drunk or deranged."

Another young man who also looks in his late teens or early twenties that has thick black hair whispers passionately, "after the last whipping he gave me, I vowed that I would strangle that bastard until his eyes popped out of his head.  I say we rush him and kill him."

The young woman leans against the hull of the ship and starts to sob softly into her hands.

After taking a peek at the scene on the beach, Arnould looks around the cargo hold. "Some of us could try to get into the water while Hafkris is not looking. Others could just some pieces of lumber, or any projectile we could get. Those in the water wait, try to sneak to a position out of the hole's line of sight. Those of us that remain in the cargo hold open fire at Hafkris. Whatever he does, the others in the water get to him at that moment, and hopefully, he'll be surprised."

Arnould pauses for a moment, then looks at the others. "What do you think?"

OOC: Anything we could use as thrown weapons in the hold? Like bits of wood, ring of shackles, anything of the sort? How far is Hafkris from the hole in the hold?

"Mate, if a sounder of tuskless bush pigs attacked a pig breeder with a pitchfork, they'd stampede him, sure enough" - Porcius mutters, waggling his index finger - "But they won't, because none of 'em wants to be the one in the front that gets skewered, if you catch my drift."

"So if you want to go down there an' get cut down by that sword of his, be my guest - but me, I won't be anywhere he can see us, thankyouverymuch."

"He's what? Thirty feet away? With him pacing back and forth, we won't be climbing out without him seeing. Naw... let's wait awhile. If he's drunk, he'll fall asleep when darkness comes; an' if he's mad, he'll probably just wander away soon enough. We can spend a bit more time in this rotten bucket."

Seeing the young woman's distress, he ambles over on his short legs and pats her gently on the arm. "Now, now, girl. We're already out of the worst of it. Have some faith. Tell me, what's your name?"

Arnould frowns. "What if whatever buddies he's got with him come back before he falls asleep, though? What if he doesn't fall asleep at all, but sobers up while we wait here for him to pick us up?"

The anger born of frustration is plain on the dark-haired man's face, but he remains silent as he gaze is set on Hafkris.

The woman rubs her eyes with her tattered dress and musters a smile at Poricus' concern, and says softly, "my name is Melisana.  What's your name?"

Jon turns from the hole and retrieves his shackles, then returns to the hole and watches the pirate closely.