The thread thrummed, like a chime of a galleon bell.

The sun was climbing up the sky when he awoke, rays mangled by the dusty window of his room into a smattering of broken shadows on the opposite wall. Having left his bed, Aylar stretched, calmly assessing every little twitch sent through his frame, then quickly set about gathering the rest of his gear, waiting for him where he neatly left it the night before. Humming a shanty pleasantly as the slight weight of his trusty, well worn pale-grey longcoat settled over his shoulders, he tied his hair back by a simple piece of rope, grabbed his satchel off the well-scratched wooden floor - soon, he thought fleetingly, no longer would the floor beneath him be still like a grave, but swaying and creaking along with the sea-songs - and secured his trusty cutlass to his belt, well sharpened, oiled, and a-gleaming. His spirits up, he closed the worn door of the attic room for what finally felt like the last time, then bounded downstairs with all the unspent, unbrawled energy of a sea cat out to hunt mice. 

"So ye really leavin', laddie?" A portly halfling eyed his rackety descent into the main living area. 

"That I am, Pops. A fair vessel and her crew be decided me fit fer their service, an'hm I them in turn." Aylar twirled around as he crossed the room towards the exit, throwing several gleaming silver pieces on the dinner table. "Thank ye for food'n'board, ta keeping an eye out."

"Ah ye daft yung weasel, I shall overlook that 'tis more pay that I would ask ye, but ye shan't be runnin' out me dwelling hungry or yer mother would crawl out the Locker and have me head!" Pops hurried out to the kitchen. Aylar closed his eyes; the bell continued to chime softly somewhere by the sea, sending the thread vibrating with each strike - a sound much quieter in reality, yet sneakily louder than any loud banging of a ladle upon the pot could ever be.

In sudden silence, his hand shot up in the air, catching a well-filled wineskin. "Ye will drink it on yer way to port, all that good fresh broth." Pops leveled a long-necked ladle at the half-elf in what was probably supposed to count a threatening manner.

"I will." Aylar saluted jokingly with the wineskin, giving the old halfling one short last look, then bolted out of the door. Be his way well-timed, he be at port when the sun'd start turn back in the sky.

"Fair wind to ye sails, lad!" followed him out of the house, almost drowning in the noise of the calling bell.

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He made good time coming to port, with but a half of the wineskin empty (and a plan to finish the rest of it below deck), and a piece of dried apple bought at an on-the-way stall snatched between his teeth. It was still light out, but his keen eyes could already catch the sun starting to bleed tiny drops of its life into the sky. When it'd fall down, it was looking to be a red night, a fine night to set sail indeed. Red was a fine color, a color of a fine fight, of a blow well struck, color well bled into his hair and his name and his very being. Aylar took care of the apple bit, then let the thread pull him where it went. It went past the rugged guards and sun-baked sailors and whispering gawkers, winding and dancing past many a vessel and down, down, down the dock, like a walk down to open grave along the wailing of a funeral bell. He kept his face calm, but in his heart, a fire was slowly starting to brim with each keening strike. Oh, it was crying ner for them - his hand brushed briefly against the guard of his cutlass - but for whoever the waves would bring them to.

He looked at the nearing ship, hands leisurely shoved in the pockets of his longcoat as he walked towards it. Somehow, he could feel it, dark, writhing and formidable in the fearfully splashing waves, looking at him in turn, an entirety of it from the tip of the main mast to the tip of the figurehead's beak (A penguin? Fair swimmers they be, but what... an interesting choice.) scrutinizing his approach. No name could he spot on it, no mark besides countless unreadable runes dancing upon the woody surface, there-and-gone in a blink of an eye. All-too familar prodding touched the back of his mind, coaxing forth a flash after flash of a memory - a raging storm, bones of countless ships wedged in the pitch black reefs and jutting dead out the ocean floor, a trap sprung, a service forced unwanted and broken, a blade run through plenty what once was a fellow shipmate. He stopped before a gangplank for but a moment, nodding ever so slightly at the grim vessel. The bell keened one last time, then fell silent.

"I shan't take a shackle wrought or woven," he thought towards what had no name and not needed it, for it, he surmised, was and would be, simply The Ship, "but I shall take and repay a deal fair, and so I'll do right by ye as I trust ye do by me."

He was no mage, but mam always told him the magick knew intent. As he stepped upon the gangplank, he felt what seemed like a good, if strong, pat on the back and a sense of good-humored, amused invitation-acceptance flit through his mind, and a pleased smile found its way on his face as he made his way onto the deck and took in the sight of his fellow crewmates. Ah, what a diverse bunch. Delightful, most certainly shan't be boring, not at all.

"A good waning-day be to ye all", he said, performing a short bow with a flourish. "Aylar the Red Mane be my name, and I be very pleased to brave the seas with such a good company. Be it me sailing skill or me trusty blade, either are at yer service." Introduction over, Aylar promptly removed the rope tie, letting his namesake to take in the wind, and pointedly ignoring someone eyeing his blood-red hair with what appeared like concern in favor of casting a quick series of glances towards the rigging in search of all his old favorite perching spots. Long has his life been moored in standstill, but now, one by one, pieces were slotting into place.

If nothing, it was promising to be interesting.

Durik arrived via a small boat that he parked at the pier.
He was quite a big muscled half-orc with thick dark skin.

His presence would have been terrifying, except for the fact that.. he wore simple humans clothes too thin for him.
However, nobody would have dared to laugh at such fellow, expecially since he wielded a large cudgel.
He quickly boarded the ship with his bag.

Due to habit, simple-mindedness and excitement, he was unfazed by the dark unsettling scene and nonchalantly greeted the group:
"Ahoy mateys! Hello cap'n! I be Durik, pleased to meet you.
So, where we be headin' to?"

And after noticing all the kind of strange characters on board:
"I be travellin' with all sort of folks, but dis be quite a peculiar ship and crew.
And what's the green stuff around?"

Argy suddenly interrupted him to offer her "carrot" soup, but he declined: "No thanks ye tiny lass, but me likes meat".

He then remained a while on the deck with the other crewmembers, while waiting for instructions.

Polly watched as the red of the sun's final rays streaking the horizon began to slowly fade, and the indigo of approaching night stole in softly. Red sun at night ... sailor's delight, she thought. Her eyes sought out the half-elf who had so enthusiastically taken to the Ship. Ah yes, red sun, red hair, a portent indeed. Except, perhaps, for the not-so-happy Count Karnstein, who stood on the deck looking like he didn't quite know where to go. Well, berth assignments would come as soon as the rest of the Crew reported aboard. For a moment she considered berthing those two together and in her heart's mind she heard an amused chuckle.

The provisions Baldbeard inquired about were being neatly stowed and secured, even the livestock Pugwash had brought aboard. She had no idea where they had been placed, and it would be interesting to see how they would adapt to the seas they would travel, but the Ship had its ways. She glanced around the deck again. The cargo was almost entirely in, thanks to the excellent dock hands, Foggy, and a few extra of his own crew Captain Radaggarb had pressed into service. Yarr, even a few of the landlubbers had helped ... dockside of course, as none of them would step foot upon the Ship. For all she knew they helped because they wished the Ship gone. Ah well, it was a Free Port, and as a Free Port it was known to turn a blind eye to brigands and pirates and all sorts ... although she doubted the all sorts they had in mind included something like the Ship. Ah, landlubbers and townsfolk, what would they think if they knew the things she had seen, the seas she had sailed?

No matter. She looked over as more gathered on the main deck. This be a solid Crew. Some very solid indeed, she thought, considering Durik, Foggy, Baldbeard and Pugwash. As to their questions, things would be explained soon enough, and until then it would do them some good for the Crew to get to know each other and how to work and live together. Polly watched as Larissa distributed some soap. Shiver me timbers, Larissa actually expects them to use soap? Polly cocked her head. Well, good for her, and the better for all of the rest of us if they do. In fact, her laundry could use some of that.

She had noted those with natural camaraderie and those ... her gaze passed over Grog'tial without slowing ... who perhaps were not so skilled at forcing it as they might think. She had also noted the friendly Argy handing out an interesting soup before heading to the galley, and Argy's frustration as the actually quite resilient halfling emerged again. Ah well, Polly had not really hoped for better, but the Ship had it's ways and she had thought maybe.... Polly acknowledged a wave as she had acknowledged the others who greeted or performed bows or a curtsy towards her, quite remarkable really in Bellandra's case, and she had also noted those who sought the Captain elsewhere. It would be interesting to see their reactions as things became more clear.

Polly spread her wings wide, shaking the growing iridescent feathers into place silently, then settled and nodded to the one Bhrigu had addressed as Captain J. The figure nodded back, and then slowly faded out of existence. Things are not always what they seem, me Hearties, she thought. Things are not quite what they seem at all.

The Bruja also looked to the fading fire in the darkening sky and the swelling water. "The tide be rising. It be almost time, mi hermana de corozon."

Polly nodded, then watched as the Bruja unlocked the chest and began to take from it several items to lay upon the table the dock hand, Dumb 'the left handed' Parrot, had placed at the base of the forecastle deck. A clockwork sextant, a fishbowl, a glass eye ... so innocuous, so ... unimpressive. A Bosun's whistle, a smallish conch shell, a large male stone crab claw followed, then a silver locket containing a silver mirror on a silver chain, a sailor's pipe ... one by one the items came and were placed. Finally came some that many would call weapons, of a sort ... a hook hand, a cat-o-nine-tails, and leaning against the table's sides a harpoon gun, a trident, a cannon. Suddenly from the Great Cabin flew two more items - a box with a dozen decorated cupcakes with a birthday candle in each landed upon the table's end, and a laundry basket seemingly brimming with patchwork rags slid in underneath it. A curtain of spectral energies immediately leapt up and enclosed the table as the basket found it's place, restricting all access to the treasures there until it was time.

The Bruja shut the lid of the trunk and slipped the key under Polly's wing, where it disappeared. "Remember my words, and my warning. These will work with the Ship, and the Crew, where you sail to and when the other majicks fail. I must go now. The tide is almost here, and I be not part of the Ship. Buena suerte ... and may you find what you seek, hermana."

With a jarring but friendly slap to the back, Cap'n Barfdeck Rummyfangs was brutally awakened. Baldbeard's greeting had taken him by total surprise. Completely bewildered to find himself already onboard the ship's main deck, the Felinoid pirate offered an awkward smile to Baldbeard and then glanced at the gangplank not too far behind, with no recollection of ever boarding this ship.

"Be I so three sheets to the wind with rum that here I 'ave fallen asleep standing?" Cap'n Barfdeck Rummyfangs muttered to himself. Having his fangs wet in fine rum was nothing new to him, as was sailing the seas soused and sassy, but this felt like something else. "Maybe someone has black spotted me wit' magic!"

Cap'n Barfdeck Rummyfangs made haste to stride back down the gangplank and take a final loop around the port. He needed to shake this spell from his head. Some of his fellow Brethren and crewmates watched him dart away from the ship, problably wondering what madness had gripped this fearsome pirate.

"Oh, 'e be aft!", some even shouted.

As Cap'n Barfdeck Rummyfangs turned his head to observe the formidable ship from the safety of the port, his eyes caught sight of the greenish spectral lights that almost craddled this enchanted pirate vessel. And just like that, he suddenly remembered what had happened to him! He now recalled having walked up the gangplank and boarded the ship. He remembered greeting a handful of his fellow Brethren and nodding to some of the crewmates and taking notice of the many barrels of rum. Then, as if in a final memory, Cap'n Barfdeck Rummyfangs recalls suddenly being surrounded by the ship's spectral energies and being embraced by greenish waves of lights. The ship had a presence of its own and was personally welcoming each Brethren onboard. Only, its enchanting power must have been too overwhelming for Cap'n Barfdeck Rummyfangs. The next thing he knew, he was jolted back to consciousness by a slap to the back!

"Ye see? This here scurvy dog 'as come aft to us!" Up the gangplank for a final time, Cap'n Barfdeck Rummyfangs reaches the ship's main deck and is greeted by the same faces who watched him dart down that very gangplank mere moments ago. With a friendly nod, Admiral Polly formally greeted Cap'n Barfdeck Rummyfangs onboard, perhaps for a second time, as the first time was still a dreamlike memory in the Felinoid's mind. Then, with a subtle gesture of the wing, Admiral Polly summoned a bucket, that gracefully slided right next to where Cap'n Barfdeck Rummyfangs stood. Was Admiral Polly hinting that decks were to remain clean and tidy?

Cap'n Barfdeck Rummyfangs picks up the bucket and smiles at Admiral Polly, for whom he has the greatest respect. Afterall, it is Admiral Polly who summoned the GrOG Brethren for this wild adventure at sea.

"Thank ye fer this bucket gift. The Brethren tells me that I must visit the ship's bow 'n admire the figurehead carved thar." And with those words, Cap'n Barfdeck Rummyfangs headed for the ship's beak, discretely losing the bucket along his way.

"When I was a young lad, me beloved mother always said t' me, remember who ye be." Cap'n Barfdeck Rummyfangs whispered to himself as he admired the carved figurehead of a peculiarly huge undead penguin poised in mid-dive.

"She said t' me, when they offer ye overboard, ye ask 'em, be me name Barfoverboard Rummyfangs? When they offer ye a dish, ye ask 'em, be me name Barfdish Rummyfangs? When they offer ye a bucket, ye ask 'em, be me name Barfbucket Rummyfangs? Ne'er forget who ye be 'n who yer cap'n was 'n his cap'n afore 'im. Ye be forever Barfdeck Rummyfangs!"

And in a ritual of bestowing good fortune on a ship soon to be setting sail to grand adventures, Cap'n Barfdeck Rummyfangs retches a rumball (that is, a hairball coated in rum) onto the ship's deck, under the gaze of the carved penguin poised in mid-dive.

"Greetings, greetings welcome my darling subjects, it's wonderful to see you all on board my ship, loyal and ready to lay down your life for your queen! I would of like to take this opportunity to say, even though I am considerably more important and richer than you, I am also humble, modest and kind, and will be deigning to take part in even the normal, everyday humdrum ship-board activities just like any other prole, er, citizen. Both I and my dearest Prince Albatross look forward to the adventures ahead! Oh, and if anyone tries anything with my dearest princey-wincey (glares at Gigi, then turns eyes to the parrot, then eyes her rapier) there will be... consequences. "

Mighty could not decide if he should board the ship with left or right leg first. After short consultation with this parrot Cracker and each head of Three-Headed Monkey he decided to start this strange journey with his right foot. Who knows how many steps he will take, but he will do his best to make the last step using his left leg.

His thoughts were interrupted by usual greeting of his parrot: “Cracker wants to crack a skull!”. Lawful Good head of Three-Headed Monkey shaked its head in disapproval of parrots behavior, while Neutral Good greeted everyone with short nod and Chaotic Good took a moment to have a short nap.

NOTICES and CURRENT ACTION RESULTS will be posted on the Fore Mast (Post 3) to update all Crew.

Polly nodded her appreciation to Captain Radaggarb as he finished affixing the Notice Board to the fore mast and gave her a jaunty salute while working on his next composition under his breath. Lucky John Forty Barrels and Silverdog the Greedy emerged from below decks and fastened down the cargo access before following Captain Radaggarb, and Dumb 'the left handed' Parrot down the gangplank.

There was raucous laughter as Silverdog, Lucky John and Dumb Parrot swapped jokes while descending the plank, which went suddenly quiet as they neared the dock. At the bottom of the gangplank stood a half-orc, looking from the parrot on one shoulder to a three-headed monkey on the other, as if trying to figure something out. The dock hands slipped carefully by this new strange addition to a very strange crew and decided that some of that rum Lucky John Forty Barrels had stashed away at home sounded very good indeed. Lifting first one foot, then trading to the other, then back to the first, the half-orc finally planted his right foot on the gangplank and boarded the Ship. Mighty the Mighty Matey had joined the Crew.

The Bruja had left, the Cargo and provisions were stored, and the breeze and tide were rising. Polly turned her head into the breeze coming off the sea ... it was almost time.

Gilius looked surprised at Origi. "Ye ? I been sure that there me resurrect spell 'ad failed on ye ! Glad to see it actually worked belatedly ! Ye missed much o' a big party !"
He then walked along the ship from fore to aft checking its good condition, making sure it was clean and tidy.

"Admiral ! Be we ready to set sail ? Do ye think this here rookie crew will prove to be fit fer sailin' and face the sea's dangers ?"

Gilius awaits for further instructions while examining each new member as they walk aboard.

Throughout the relatively hot afternoon Bhrigu slept on a jute sack filled with potatoes. This reminded him of his innumerable journeys through the different parts of the continent, on ox carts and horse drawn carriages. He sensed the world moving around him; the waves breaking in gentle splashes, more gunny sacks full of ration being lowered on the deck, and the crew meandering on the deck. The sweet music that arose from the harmonica of Cap'n Baldbeard lulled his senses into realm of half awakened fancies. There was a delicious smell rising in the air, along with the rustic comforting smell of fragrant wood, but Bhrigu could not decide if he should get up for a meal or not. The disappearance of the figure whom he thought to be the captain perturbed him to a great degree. "Nothing on this ship would be as it seems from a landlubber's point of view", he murmured as he closed his eyelids.

When he stepped out of his nap, and on the deck, the lanterns had been lit all over the ship. Yet there was a sense of forboding that seemed to inhale the light and spit it out in a more insidious hue. The town looked miserably joyous with its streets lit with torches, and its train of those who were already drunk and those who were going to be. The guards roamed the streets with their armour shining like fireflies in an urban jungle. The ship was animated with a joyous hubbub. Bhrigu felt something wet touching his hand, and turning he saw a cow was licking his palm. He patted the animal on its head, who answered with a gentle moo. The ship turned into a veritable zoo, he thought, with the three headed monkey being the star attraction. The journey might turn out to be a long one, but never dull.

The dusk was giving the reign away to the night, the scarlet of the horizon began to shift into a shadowy blue. What surprizes does the night have in store for them, all wondered. Most importantly, what would Argy put on their plates.

"Aye, Gilius, the Ship has accepted 'em now," Polly replied. "They not all be green, and it be a solid Crew. As fer the time, ye feel as do I ... it be soon now, very soon."

The breeze began to pick up and swing about, signaling the tide change. The Ship began to pull at the anchor and lines tying it to the dock. Polly watched the pennants, felt the wind, the waves and the building anticipation in those who were experienced sailors among the Crew. One more slight change in the Ship and ... there!

"Weigh anchor!" Polly squawked to Foggy and Mighty. "Secure the gangplank," to Durik. "Throw off the lines," to Captain Baldbeard, Count Karnstein and Pugwash. She looked to where Aylar was eying the rigging, saw Bellandra's anticipation. "Unfurl the sails," and then to Cap'n Rummyfangs, "and hoist the colors! We be away, Mateys! Yarr!"

The Ship slipped gracefully from the dock, heading into the open sea. Polly raised slightly into the air, glimmering phantasmal wings extended and the Ship responded, rising slightly, leaping forward with bow cresting those waves the ocean sent its way easily. Then the entire Ship shimmered and pulsed once, and the surrounding sea seemed to fade ever so slightly to their view.

From the dockside, Captain Radaggarb simply shook his head and chuckled as the Ship simply vanished. "Shiver my timbers, shiver my soul, Yo ho, me buckos, Yo ho ..."

* * * * *

Polly settled back to the fore railing and called the Crew together. "If ye be lookin' fer the Cap'n, he isn't here. The Ship be yer Captain and yer home, and I be givin' the orders. They call me Admir'l Polly." Polly looked them all over. "Know ye now, ye have signed on and the Ship has accepted ye. Ye be a part o'the Crew now, your Spirits a part o'the Ship, until this Journey's end. Never mind wonderin', ye will find out what it means soon enough."

"Berthing assignments. Queen Origi," Polly addressed the Halfling next to the albatross, "the Ship has arranged a small cabin just below us in the fo'c'sle for you and your prince as the prince may wish to sleep out on the fore deck here on clear nights and fish off the bow rail where there not be so many sails to foul the wind under his wings. You're welcome." Origi's cabin had been made from the forecastle room, and while not huge, it was cozy and clean with warm rugs and two portholes, not big enough to crawl through but big enough to let in the light and a good breeze, which looked out on the port side of the ship to the sea. A door let out onto the port side deck for the albatross to perch on the railing nearby where he could watch the sea, watch the port when they were in one, and catch the wind under his wings without having to worry about running just to try to launch himself to fly.

Polly turned back to the rest of the Crew. "There be five cabins open in the Commissioned Officers Quarters at the back of the main deck. Gilius here is in the starboard one by the Captain's Quarters. Bhrigu, ye be taking the one to portside across from Gilius. Fer the other four cabins; Cap'n Rummyfangs, Cap'n Aylar, Captain Baldbeard and Count Karnstein. Ye four have captained yer own ships afore so I want ye near the main deck." The cabins again were not huge, but still spacious enough for each to have a sea chest, a wardrobe, a functional cubby desk and two portholes. The beds were clean, comfortable and large enough without wasting space. Everything but the rugs and the desk chairs of course was bolted down. The rugs on the floors were in colors adapted to each one's specific styles; blues for the Felinoid as feline eyes perceived the blue spectrum more vividly; deep reds and sunset hues for Aylar the Red Mane; rich earthen tones and golds for Captain Baldbeard, and darker yet somehow soothing for Count Karnstein. In Bhrigu's cabin instead of a cubby desk he would find an old rolltop desk made of a very old oak, its warm glowing oil-rubbed wood meticulously maintained, with a built-in ink holder, and a lock. The roll top was up and a small brass key sat waiting on the open desktop, just beneath multiple cubbys perfect for rolled scrolls or maps and two small drawers, one perfectly sized for logs or journals and the other for ink bottles and pens.

"There be eight smaller cabins in the Warrant Officers Quarters just above the galley and next to the infirmary ... the Ship's Cook and Ship's Doctor take two. Bellandra, Argy, Larissa, you'll also berth there. Bellandra, Larissa, mind yer heads near the support beams, but there be room fer yer things in the bolted down sea chest at the foot o' yer bunks. Pugwash, Grog'tial, you'll take the two Warrant cabins nearest the gun deck." The Warrant cabins were small, but each contained a bunk, a sea chest, a locker and a small table and chair with a lantern hanging above it. Since fire was always a safety concern aboard ships, these lanterns could be shielded, but the fire within them wasn't a natural fire anyway, but an Eldritch one in a more starlike hue than a candle's flame. Each may only have a single porthole, but it was enough to let in the light and the breeze if wanted. The rugs were in muted tones, but warm and cozy all the same.

Cocking her head, Polly regarded the half-orcs. "Fer the rest o' ye, ye boyos won't fit in those small cabins well, so there be hammocks strung in the gun deck berth below the main deck ... Foggy, Durik, Mighty, choose fer yourselves there." The Gun deck birth was wide and open so the half-orcs would have plenty of room to move about and socialize. They had their own table with benches and plenty of space for dice or card games, and meals if they like. Here there were no rugs, as the cannons and magazines were nearby, but there were solid decks, four hammocks strung with room for more and ready storage lockers for their belongings.

"Now Grog'tial be green and has yet to find his sea-legs so ye others be showin' him how." Did her eyes twinkle with merriment for a moment? No matter. "Bhrigu, I be seein' ye in the Navigation Room, off the quarter deck, right behind the wheel, after ye choose yer weapon and get settled."

Beckoning them forward with a sweep of iridescent wing, Polly's voice took on a tone of haunting command. "By now ye begin to ken (know) that ye not be aboard a normal Ship. To sail the waters we will sail, no normal ship nor normal magicks would work. So we be gettin' around all that in a different way. The Ship be altering each o' ye some, it be givin' ye special protections in return fer yer service. Regular magicks won't be workin' on ye quite so easily (you all have a slight magic resistance), yer very skin now be ever so slightly ephemeral, so normal weapons have a tendency to not be able to do as much damage to ye (you all have a slight spectral armor imbued into your skin). Now each o' these protections only work if ye get back to the Ship to recharge them after each Mission or shore call. If ye miss gettin' back aboard, or if yer fellow Crew don't help haul ye back, then the Ship will have to sail without ye, and the Curse may take ye full without the Ship's protection." (See Rule 6 in OP) Her eyes glowed with phantom fire a moment as she looked at each of them, lingering just slightly longer as she stared at Grog'tial. "Mark me well. You belong to the Ship, it guards yer Spirit, and ye will not survive in yer normal world without it, until this Voyage be done."

*Cursed Item/Weapon rules and choices next ...*

Cursed Items/Weapons:

The spectral energies around the table flared and dissipated. "Now, choose yerselves a Cursed Weapon from the table. These be special items," Admiral Polly told them. "Cursed some would say, but tho some be seemin' harmless, they not be what they seem at all. Listen well, Mateys, for each one gives ye an Ability which can be used to yer advantage. Mind ye, each can be used only once per Mission or Event, before it needs to come back to the Ship to be recharged. Each also contains a hidden Powerful Ability which only has 3 charges for this entire Voyage, once they are used up they are gone. An' each also has a chance to Misfire or fail, with consequences. As each Misfire occurs, there is a chance that Cursed Weapon or Item will fail completely, taking itself out, and possibly you with it ... or it may simply leave ye Cursed forever." Her eyes flared with inner fire again.

"Listen close and I be tellin' ye what each does as the Bruja told me."

(12) Birthday Cupcakes, "ye can only take 2 with ye per Mission. Quite simply, they be grenades, ye throw one and it goes boom when it hits, or place it down and it will go off in 3 minutes. Me own recipe." Polly preened a bit. "O' course they be a bit loud, but that can work fer a distraction too."

Basket o'Laundry - "ye not be takin' the basket, but some rags from it. They turn into whatever ye need to make yerself disguised as harmless, until ye get too close and they smell that soap of Larissa's that be. They also give ye a bit more spectral armoring."

Bosun's whistle - Polly stopped as the whistle suddenly arose in the air, spun thrice and flew over to Captain Baldbeard where it morphed and fused itself onto the end of his harmonica. "Well I guess that be settled then," said Polly. "Ye can play your harmonica normal like, but when ye blow that end piece it be letting you call a phantom shark pack. Don't worry, they swim strange seas, land or water makes no mind to 'em. It be like unto a dog whistle, so certain animals and beings hear it, but not humankind."

Cannon - "it be only fer the strong, so not halflings, and will reduce yer agility and speed - it be carried on yer back and allow ye to stuff in an shoot an enemy at other enemies, or have a Crew member climb in and be shot up to a roof, over a wall, or wherever in a 20 meter area ye need to get 'em. Mind ye now, ye have to aim it and hit it on the butt end to fire. Also it's loud and will reveal yer position." (You must indicate where you are aiming.)

Cat-o-9-Tails - "ye be noticing the squid tentacles instead of leather straps. The tentacles can range to 3 meters, they be living, sentient, and nasty."

Clockwork Sextant - "this one look harmless, but it be stopping time for an enemy for 60 seconds. Ye concentrate on up to 3 regular size enemies in a close group or one large or powerful enemy and it stops time fer them flat."

Conch seashell - "Listen to it and it allows you to hear anything within sight, Blow in it and a siren song will mesmerize susceptible enemies in nearby hearing range (6 meters). Mind ye, if there be enemies out further, they might hear and come looking."

Crab claw - "again, it be only for the strong, so not fer halfings, and will reduce yer agility. This will also be replacing one o' your hands to the elbow. It be a shield and a strong pincer to grab and hold anything or crush it."

Fish bowl - "if ye concentrate and rub it, it be taking you straight to any water, be it pond, puddle or teacup, that ye can see within yer sight line, or it be letting you breathe underwater if necessary. It does create a bit of a splash tho." (You must specify your target point.)

Glass eye - "it be replacing one o' yer eyes, ye choose which, but then it be letting you see far and guarantees any shot goes true if ye concentrate only thru that glass eye, unless the enemy has sufficient armor against it." (Think gun scope with a guarantee to hit, you must specify you are aiming thru that eye and where you are targeting.)

Harpoon gun - "ye can use it fer regular fishing, or ye can use it to shoot and reel in enemies. Or shoot out the rope fer a climbing line or rope bridge. Be aware it is not too loud, but not completely silent." (You must specify where you are aiming for.)

Hook hand - "this also be replacing a hand, ye can specify which one, and acts like a regular hook but stronger, or shoots a grapple that ye and fellow Crew can use to climb or to hook enemies." (Specify what you are trying, aiming for.)

Sailor's pipe - "this be the pipe of a lighthouse keeper, instead of smoking it, ye puff it and it summons a fog to hide ye and fellow Crew fer 10 minutes duration. It be an approx. 50'/15m radius, lighter fog if ye only puff lightly, heavy fog the harder ye puff."

Silver Mirror Locket - "this be the tool of an assassin, ye open it and concentrate on the mirror inside and it portals you instantly to that place if it be within your sight range. It only be a one-way trip tho." (You must specify your target point.)

Trident - "ye can use it as a regular trident weapon or fishing, but concentrate on an enemy and it will pin anything within 5 yer weight to the spot where they be standin. or bring anything within 5 body lengths and up to 3 times yer weight to the ground."

"Now then, Queen Origi has the All-Seeing Eyepatch, it lets her see hidden things when she concentrates only thru that eyepatch and closes her good eye. As she once was magically inclined, she also knows that if she closes both eyes and concentrates for a moment it will grant her Invisibility fer 2 minutes, but only fer 3 times total."

Gilius be havin' the Ship's Mast Staff, made from the mast of a sunken ship. He can use it as a cudgel, or if he concentrates it be lettin' him make any tree, vine or seaweed nearby to entangle up to 3 enemies, or make any bushes nearby expand and hide himself and up to 5 Crew nearby, or very rarely make an enemy 'Walk the Plank'. As he also was once magically inclined, he knows his Special Ability with it is to cause a Lightning Storm if he be either aboard the Ship or nearby or on the sea, but only fer 3 times total."

"There it be. Choose wisely."

With that Polly grew quiet and waited to see what each Crew member would choose.

Argy would like to take the cupcakes, or "magdalenas" as the Bruja named them

Hand in thought over his chin, Aylar considered the offerings on the table, sparing some but a brief glance, fixing a few others with an intense stare. "Aye, then," he nodded eventually, striding to the table and closing his hand over the silver locket. "I think I be having this one here, Admiral."

Since all rest o' ye seem hesitant like a whelp at the brothel's door, I'll give ye an example and allow meself to take this 'ere humble Pipe. Wouldn't mind a smoke anyway. One has to die of something, or so they say, harr harr. I had similar once long time ago in fact. Maybe it wasn't magic, but now when I think of, 'twas fumin' like a burnin' whaler too.
Done. See? Chop chop, it ain't that hard.

Pugwash asks for the glass eye. Pugwash fails to think about whether he can put his original eye back after the voyage, but dwarves pirates were never known for wisdom.