An Admirable Admiral

An Admirable Admiral

So another day dawned in Booty Bay, a day that promised if anything even fishier goings on. Would we be off with traitor pirate Fist? Would we win the fishing competition? Would Kasbo do any tumbling? Would Plainsweaver get less horny?

Infact it seemed things were taking a new direction as we were roused from our reverie by mysterious exploding noises. On investigation we discovered a goblin engineer experimenting with a teleport device that he claimed would send lucky travellers to the gnome capital city.

It seemed gnome-goblin relations had improved somewhat as the engineer, improbably named Scooty,* was that unique phenomena: A goblin motivated by the desire for racial harmony rather than the acquisition of wealth at any cost.

*Cue various ‘The teleport willna’ stand it cap’n’ type jokes.’

Kasbo who doesn’t know the meaning of the word reckless* asked Plainsweaver to hurl him through the teleport device, even as Lutzbar was discussing terms with the goblin as to how much gold undertaking such a dangerous journey was worth. After the gnome had vanished into the ether, Lutzbar decided to go too and vanished after him. Apparently they found themselves in the fabulous gnome city, but they returned without so much as a T-shirt or postcard for any of us.

*The full list of words that Kasbo doesn’t know is too extensive to reproduce here, but a full list can be obtained if you are able to lay your hands on a dictionary of any kind.

Kasbo did receive payment in the form of a credit note in favour of my old mate and noted purveyor of shrunken heads, Sly Garrett. We sauntered back to his shop, the only sound in the early morning air the gentle splash of illicit goods as they slipped carelessly from the cargo bays of sloops moored nearby.

After a discussion which included possibly the stupidest question ever asked* Kasbo came away the proud owner of a slimy giant egg.** This will obviously come in very handy if we come across any giant soldiers, but I’m not sure when else.*** Plainsweaver was determined to do well in the fishing competition and decided he needed a new rod, and who were we to argue? So we went back to the rod shop where Nat Pagel agreed to make him a new one, which would take about 40 minutes.

*Sly to Kasbo (height 2’8’’): ‘So are you looking for something under the table?

**We all looked around but John Hurt was nowhere to be seen.

***It also inspired this week’s joke (or yolk) theme following last week’s tidal wave of fish puns. However I have decided after taking legal advice and following a number of death threats from Phil not to reproduce any here. Anyway, as they were mainly cracked by Toby so I’d just be poaching them.

As he went into the back of the shop to start work, he banged the gong, signalling the start of the hour long fishing competition. That Nat, he’s got such a great sense of humour. We all warmed to him at once, except Plainsweaver for some reason…

Lutzbar meanwhile went off to the local auctions whilst Fuq’ Witt decided that the crowded docks filled with would-be fishing champions would leave a lot of unguarded shops around the place filled with things that a slightly disreputable troll operating in a moral vacuum might quite like to acquire on a no money down now, no money later type deal. She trawled the area for targets and her theory proved quite correct.

Large numbers of people were fishing, spectating, selling to competitors and onlookers alike, all along the crowded seafront. The harbour was filled with overloaded boats also cashing in, resulting in a number of collisions, capsizes and calamities that helpfully for the competition, added quite a lot of live bait to the harbour waters.

Amidst all this confusion or rather away from it, Fuq’ Witt prowled the deserted back streets until she discovered an abandoned bookshop. She entered and proceeded to attempt to break in to the shop’s cashbox, unsuccessfully as it turned out and she retreated just in time to avoid a potentially unpleasant confrontation with an irate bookseller.*

* Fuq’ Witt’s career as a criminal mastermind is off to a shaky and very disappointing start

Kasbo meanwhile had got into a competition with the local baron, leader of the Blackwater Raiders.* Plainsweaver accompanied him rodless as he was still waiting for his new equipment to be lovingly hand crafted by Nat. I meanwhile had hit on a plan that involved me trying out some new magic I had been working on: I intended to charm the afore mentioned Nat and have him award the 30,000 crown prize to us, regardless of the true result.

*The bloodthirsty cutthroats, not the town’s rather second rate lacrosse team

Whilst I waited, Pagel’s shop had more visitors: Seemed that Fuq’ Witt was not the only criminal mastermind planning to use the fish fest as cover for nefarious enterprises.* The two visiting gentlemen of fortune, for pirates they were, were generously offering to show Nat their proficiency in firearms, a blunderbuss and flintlock pistol to be precise.

* Whilst Fuq’ Witt had failed in her recent attempt to find and steal a copy, these criminal masterminds had at least mastered lesson one in ‘Robbery for Dummies’

Already prepared with my charm spell, I effortlessly charmed the pistolier with the blunderbuss, instructing him to shoot his partner. He turned but failed to fire, and his mate, (acting with heartless malice I thought), quite unreasonably shot him through the forehead in an act of shocking ruthlessness. Thus thwarted I figured that I’d evened the odds and with my trusty staff I quickly subdued the would-be robber and actual murderer*

*Ok so there might be a case for self defence but before you judge me harshly read the next sentence and ask yourself if he knew about the blunderbuss why did he shoot his mate so callously?

To add insult to injury, the two weapons concerned turned out to be replicas.* I still gave the blunderbuss to Plainsweaver, though on an intimidation scale of one to ten I’d say that a Tauren with a fake blunderbuss only narrowly outscores a Tauren without one.

*Well obviously the pistol had been crudely (but effectively) converted

The others arrived with the competition over and we trussed the pirate (called Tyrone) and took him back to the baron, dispenser of what passes for justice in these parts. He seemed far from grateful for my intervention, having been put in a foul mood by his recent loss to Kasbo in the fishing competition.* His trusty Ogre Mage sidekick, Errol seemed a little well balanced for your average two headed type judging by our previous experience; however it did show some signs of eccentricity in its tea making technique.

*A tactical error on Kasbo’s part

We ended up practically branded as badly as the robbers and tasked with eliminating the pirate king as punishment, aided by the gang of thieves we had caught. Is it me or do we get a lot of this? So a new plan was born: Fist, the thieves and our heroic selves would travel via submarine backed by the fleet. Fist would be our ticket in to the enemy fortress where he could kill the pirate king leaving the baron as number one pirate chief for as far as his fleet could sail. Fist, the Baron and our employer all wanted the pirate king dead so there was a certain disquieting logic to everything in a twisted way.

We were reunited joyously with the good capitaino Smotts who would command the sub* and he took us out, closely observed by Kasbo who

a) is quite interested in devices of all sorts

b) has noticed from our past record that all our allies die horribly so being able to take over will be useful

c) needs to practise his driving as there is talk that one amongst us (not sure who) is shortly to be severely tested in this area.

So we and the crew of merry Venture Co goblins headed east to pirate worldTM.*

*I would have told you the name of the submersible at this point had the GM bothered to come up with one
**New from Disney world

The two pirate fleets clashed above us on the surface, our guys doing better than their guys thanks to their shinier ships, whereas the old king’s fleet relied on ships made of dead trees. We arrived at the king’s seabase* and were shot from the submarine via missile / torpedo tubes in an arrangement that presumably was somewhere in the small print of our contract with the baron. We were brought dripping to the pirate king’s audience chamber where the mad one eyed despot sat on his diamond encrusted throne surrounded by loot.

*Seabase not sea bass, that was last week

The baron’s forces were being kept at bay by the great base’s heavy guns, but we were at the heart of the enemy domain. The king revealed that the Ogre Mage Errol was actually his agent and therefore he was aware of Fist’s treachery. Fist proved his credentials in this area by killing the king there and then, just as he had promised, but it seemed that the king had powerful friends, especially a dwarf magic user who killed Fist and raised an elemental of some sort from the piles of gold around the throne.

We were soon fighting for our lives, the king’s bodyguard being somewhat upset at recent events of a regicidical nature. In the ensuing struggle our other pirate allies were killed by them, but the real threat was the dwarf, who cast several spells at Plainsweaver in particular. Not all worked, but at least one did, apparently significantly reducing his intellect.* I hit him with some arcane missiles and several shots from others also found their mark, discouraging him enough for him to open a phase door with a view to flight.

*Luckily this made no discernable difference to his behaviour

The gold elemental, or golem, or whatever it was meanwhile melted through the floor, splashing into the sea below filling the room with steam. I was using my invisibility to try and get close to the retreating dwarf but my moon glaive throw missed before the steam finally filled the room. My view did last long enough to see him teleport away.

The pirate stronghold surrendered to us and in an unexpected development I was proclaimed Admiral of the Bloodsail Buccaneers. Ok. We in turn surrendered (heroically as always) to the baron’s forces and after a discussion* agreed to leave and never return.

*If by discussion you mean we listened to him and agreed to do everything he demanded right away with sugar on top

Our revelation to the good baron that his favourite two headed friend was in fact literally two faced, led to an unexpected complication: The Baron required that we take Errol with us when we leave and never return, but he also insisted that he not be abandoned or harmed in any way.

Now how could he possibly enforce such an edict once we have left his domains? Yep, that’s what worries us too. Com to that, how do we get rid of Mr Trusty even if we want to? We find our elf transport guy after Plainsweaver and Lutz discover that they have been ripped off* in various trade enterprises they foolishly undertook and decide that we’re out of here.

*Can’t really say I ever saw Plainsweaver as a natural in the silk underwear business

Sadly we are now accompanied by a giant two-headed ogre mage called Errol whose idea of a nice cup of tea involves lifting a boiling kettle to your lips. He might as well be ticking, at least that would more honestly represent what he means to the party….


10.11.12