Today’s snippet, titled “The Allnight, pt 1”, is a piece I wrote about my PC in Paul’s new pirate themed Pathfinder Campaign.
      Be forewarned, there may be mature themes and naughty language below.
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      He had no real knowledge about who Faur had allied herself with amongst the crew, though she had implied there were several at least. Trustworthy types, he hoped. Jakuz would not be one of them, nor Fatboy who licked Kiskaeyn’s boots like a starving man in hopes of promotion – or maybe just a chance to fuck her. But to detriment, Fatboy was no boy, being both grey and middle-aged, and he had not received the moniker ‘fat’ for his trim figure.
      Red listed off the names he could recall, Lorenzo doubted all of them. The only person he felt confident about was Faedrin. So it was to the galley he headed in the dark of night.
      The ship was quiet after dark, with no light but the dim glow of the moon and the multitude of distant stars. He crept along the shadowy corridor, trying to move with stealth though he had never really bothered to apply such techniques before. Faedrin had a bunk in the officers’ bunkroom, but he rarely bedded down there, preferring the rich scents of his herbs and spices in the pantry to the malodorous bouquet of unwashed bodies, grimy feet, and nighttime farts.
      Luck be with me tonight, he sent a prayer to The Lady in the Room and knocked on the galley door.
      “Chef? Let me in. It’s me – Lorenzo Lafountainbleu.”
      A moment or two later, the door opened just a crack and a hand shot out. It grabbed the front of his vest and jerked him inside. As his eyes adjusted to the darkness in the room, Lorenzo heard the door shut with a soft schnik. The bolt shot home a heartbeat later.
      “Chef?” he whispered again. “Is that you?”
      “What are you doing here, Renny, m’boy? It’s worth your life if she finds you sneaking around like this.”
      “Faur is missing. I-”
      “I know that, you bloody fool. She was caught trying to drug the First Mate’s rum.”
      Lorenzo frowned. “I have not seen her in the mess hall for days. When would she-”
      His perennial smile was absent and Lorenzo found Faedrin’s expression disturbing. He wet his lips as his gaze flit around room, seeking a weapon of some sort. Just in case.
      “She wouldn’t, m’boy. She came to me. I ratted her out. Couldn’t take the chance myself – Kiskaeyn’s been in a fouler mood than ever since you two opted out of her little game. I ain’t young or pretty enough to end up in her harem and I don’t fancy a good keelhauling neither.
      “Don’t give me that look, Renny. I got nothing in this life but my job. No wife, no children, no family. I’ve been on the Mermaid since Captain Faur’s grandfather’s time. It is my life.”
      Lorenzo reached out and touched his shoulder. “Oui Chef, but I think that maybe this time, we made a stand.”
      “No one expected to see you two above decks again,” Faedrin whispered. “Once people go down there, they’re lost. No one says anything against her. I didn’t want to let you go, but I couldn’t say nothing. I’m sorry – Renny – I am.
      “Look, no one knew what to say or do when you two came back. It never happened before. And when she and Jakuz figured out you guys were gonna pretend like nothing happened, she was gonna let you go. But then Sawbones got up the gumption to fuck with her plans and — dammit. I can get you two off at Ilizmagorti. I can do that much.”
      “Chef,” Lorenzo began, but hesitated. A safe exit and freedom to move ahead on his quest to find the Gold Phoenix Aviary and Xanthuun. That was what he really wanted. It was the best choice. The most expedient choice. Somehow he doubted it would be so simple; the First Mate’s harem may not be illegal out here on the sea, but many nations along the way forbid slavery and had laws against forced sexual captivity. Probably, he thought, I mean, I don’t know all the laws but I imagine some have laws against this stuff. And broken laws have punishments. The First Mate doesn’t seem the type to serve her time quietly, either. “What will Kiskaeyn do to the Captain and Sawbones – once we’re gone? And do you really think she will let us go free? Knowing what we know? Or you?”
      Faedrin turned away, dropping his head to his chest as he leaned against the counter.
      “Chef, you have to know who Sawbones thought she could trust – other than yourself. We need to move fast. I’ve got a plan – but it’ll take several of us.”
      The shorn-eared elf nodded. “You’re right, m’boy. You’re right. This ship ain’t been the same since Kiskaeyn took over – it is time to right that wrong. You go get Red, I’ll gather Faur’s allies quietly. We can meet at the Quartermaster’s.”
      Lorenzo no longer trusted Faedrin as far as he could throw him, and he shook his head. “No. We’ll go together. We can get Red last – he is ready and waiting.”
      An almost imperceptible moment of hesitation later, the elf nodded. “Let’s go.”
      Liza “Devilsgrin” Dunkin was their first recruit. She was a tall, muscular woman who bore horrific scars on both sides of her face, stretching from the corners of her mouth nearly to her ears. Her boyfriend, Corin Hitch, was a reluctant friend but a friend nonetheless. He was half-elven and despised half-orcs, but he bit his racist tongue in Red’s presence. Speechless Abe, one of the swabbies, and Brownbeak, a tengu who rarely left the crow’s nest (the irony was not lost on Lorenzo), came next. There were two burly dwarven men Lorenzo did not recognize – they manned some room in the belly of the ship and did not often come – and the halfling quartermaster, Jill Rickets. Last, they snagged the elderly gnomish navigator, Heloise Gemstar, and her beefy twin grandsons, Maroqui and Faroqui Wavekissed.
      Red joined them a few minutes later.
      “There isn’t a lot of time for reconnaissance,” Lorenzo said, passing out tablets of Allnight. “But we know Kiskaeyn is the ring-leader and I know at least ten of the harem want out. Go ahead and swallow the Allnight. It’ll fend off the effects of the flayleaf smoke. Wait- wait Jill. We’re not ready. Red and me – we did not see the Captain in her rooms. Do any of your know where he stays?”
      “In her cabin.”
      Lorenzo looked at Faedrin, surprised.
      Touching his shorn ear self-consciously, Faedrin explained. “The captain is bespelled; he will not gainsay her. He sits in a corner with a blanket over his head – day and night, summer or winter – until she says otherwise. It is a humiliation she enjoys.”
      “Bitch,” Liza grumbled. Corin echoed her sentiment and both the dwarves nodded in agreement.
      “You’re certain he is in that room?”
      “I remember the blanket in the corner,” Red said, rubbing his chin. “I think the Cook is right.”
      “Fine. Red – you take those two, the dwarves, and get immediately to the Captain when we go in. Freeing him is paramount.”
      They planned a simple hijacking of the room; quick and dirty. With the element of surprise, and the Allnight to keep them alert despite the late hour and to help fend off the haze of drugs, Lorenzo figured they had a solid chance at overpowering Kiskaeyn – and Jakuz, who spent most of his nights wanking and watching, rather than participating.
      “Liza and Corin, you two – with Speechless Abe and Jill – dogpile Kiskaeyn as fast as you can. Faedrin and I are gonna find the Sawbones. Brownbeak, you take Maroqui and Faroqui and neutralize Jakuz — fast.”
      “What about me?” Heloise croaked, adjusting the spectacles on her nose. Her hair had been vivid, deep plum in her youth, but had faded to a dull lavender-grey. Looking at her was like looking at a rainbow that had had its color sucked out by some fey mosquito. He shuddered a little.
      “You’re with me,” he said, deciding at once that he would not leave her behind no matter how much a nuisance or detriment she may prove to the operation. The little woman had been the Captain’s friend and navigator for forty years, she deserved the chance to help free him.
      “Is everyone ready?”
      There was a chorus of whispered ayes and silent nods. As he stood before the small group, Lorenzo was suddenly struck by the fact that there were so many people listening to him, relying on him and his decisions. Zut alors! They entrust me with their lives so blindly? What kind of idiots would do such a thing? Calistria grant me some luck here, my Lady. We are going to need it – a lot of it. And Besmara be lenient – it isn’t mutiny if its intention is to un-do mutiny… is it? Oh Gods… we are so fucked.
      Lorenzo squared his shoulder, smacked Red on the shoulder to get his attention and then motioned with his chin. The half-orc cracked his knuckles and grinned. One way or another, a good fight was on the way and Red did enjoy busting heads.
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Note: Image is “Skull” by (George Crux) and “Black Cuffs” by (Andrzej Pobiedzinski) from SXC.hu; edited by me