[The Greenest Dolphin, Quarterdeck]
You are on [a timeworn naval freighter].
The quarterdeck is accessed by short, tight stairs on either side of the door to the captain's cabin. Up here, the large wheel is mounted facing the far front of the ship, with a fine view of the main deck and the forecastle. A battered wooden railing surrounds the dutifully-swabbed planks here, preventing unintended spills from this height above the waves.
A stem of hairy orangey-brown seamoss has been laid out to dry.
Also here is a pox-scarred guy.
You are upon a ship. The sun shines against the cold blue backdrop of the sky.
Cardinal Exits: down to the main deck northward
A pox-scarred guy falls in with you.
You walk down to the main deck northward, glancing around grimly.
A pox-scarred guy walks over from up south to the aft.
[The Greenest Dolphin, Main Deck, Aft]
You are on [a timeworn naval freighter].
At the back end of the main deck, the captain's cabin hunkers below the quarterdeck. The battered hardwood of the Greenest Dolphin is evidently kept ship-shape by regular swabbing with oil and tar. Above, the network of ropes that manages the mainsail creaks in any wind.
A large, tar-sealed barrel is here. A loaf of perfectly baked acorn flour bread is here.
Also here are a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man, a scholarly young man with piercing eyes, a pantherine, aurelian-eyed young woman, a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, and a pox-scarred guy. A scruffy, wild-haired sailor is lain near the mainmast, restrained by a heavy chain with shackles. Murzuni is standing beside the railing. A towering brute with shorn raven hair leaning against the railing with arms crossed. A plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache is standing beside the railing. A coppery, lithe young man is leaning near the railing. A stout, square-faced woman is standing beside a large, tar-sealed barrel. A rich mahogany-haired man is standing near a well-sealed cabin lantern, holding a bunch of 2 stems of hairy orangey-brown seamoss in his right hand. A darkly-tanned crewmate is here, wielding a heavy ship's mop in his right hand.
You are upon a ship. The sun shines against the cold blue backdrop of the sky.
Cardinal Exits: south to the aft and north to the fore
Other: the Captain's Cabin: squat cabin door (closed) and the mainmast (steep)
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair eyes the crowd, offering subtle nods to those he recognizes. His eyes flick to the mainmast, and the a scruffy, wild-haired sailor restrained. He then looks back over at the railing, and takes a deliberate walk toward it.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair goes to lean near the railing, joining Murzuni, a towering brute with shorn raven hair, a plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache, and a coppery, lithe young man.
(At a large, tar-sealed barrel): A stout, square-faced woman appraises you as they walk across the deck.
Wind tears past in a sudden gust as the ship floats smoothly upon calm waves.
A pantherine, aurelian-eyed young woman threads her way through the press of bodies to linger near the railing as well, one hand braced upon it. (Stand)
A plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache folds his arms over a supple, smoke-tooled mahogany leather vest, watching the proceedings with a grim 'humor' that obscures his distaste.
(At the railing): A pantherine, aurelian-eyed young woman traces a quick look in between a towering brute with shorn raven hair and a scholarly young man with piercing eyes, smiling faintly to herself as she does.
You're not sure anyone else notices.
A pox-scarred guy picks up a battered cat o'nine tail whip from the deck.
After picking up the whip from where it hangs on the wall near the captain's cabin, a pox-scarred guy offers it towards you.
"Sayyid Marzani." A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair bows his head toward Murzuni. "I heard from Sayidda al-Dhahab of your good fight against ... this one." [in Sirdabi with a commanding bass-baritone] He quiets, then, as the a pox-scarred guy picks up his whip, and simply stares, in grim silence.
Paldeo shakes his head to a pox-scarred guy, gaze scanning the crowd as he lifts a jaunty sharkskin captain's hat and places it back down upon his head after running a hand through his hair. "Where's the boy?" [in Ruvic with a syrupy bass] he grumbles loudly.
A rich mahogany-haired man gives the surrounding crowd an appraising look, but at the lifting of the whip his focus is drawn inevitably to the chained sailor.
Murzuni watches a pox-scarred guy and the cat o'nine tails. Looking aside to a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair, he says frankly, "Not much of a fight. He stabbed me, I kicked him." At your words, he looks around.
Paldeo glances skyward, squinting into the sun from under the brim of a jaunty sharkskin captain's hat.
A rich mahogany-haired man peers towards the mainmast.
Cool and pale, the sky stretches boundlessly above.
A strange stillness is in the air.
The ship tranquilly glides on.
A pox-scarred guy starts to offer a battered cat o'nine tail whip again, frowning tightly, but then... there's a shudder, and a glance around. The weapon slowly lowers at the end of one arm.
Frowning tightly at the sky, you say, "Hmph. Where's..."
A scruffy, wild-haired sailor emits a noise that sounds suspiciously like a snore.
Eyes narrowing slightly, a plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache watches a pox-scarred guy.
A stout, square-faced woman looks up at the sky.
A rich mahogany-haired man peers towards the railing.
A short elderly woman walks over from the way north to the fore.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man grimaces when he catches Murzuni's statement, then glances at a scruffy, wild-haired sailor with a frown , a bit of lingering sympathy in his eyes fading. He folds his arms against his chest with his lips pressed to a thin line.
(At the railing): A pantherine, aurelian-eyed young woman casts a subtle glance about, clearly hunting the crowd for something or someone.
You're not sure anyone else notices.
The ship moves across serene waves, the scent of the sea tossed up on the wind.
Murzuni glances between a pox-scarred guy and you.
(At the railing): A scholarly young man with piercing eyes takes a breath. He stares at the whip, pursing his lips. A slight frown begins to form on his face, whatever cheerful topic was on his mind quickly fading.
Paldeo takes a few strides over to a scruffy, wild-haired sailor. "Where's that Irzali fop?" he demands of those gathered on deck, seeming to be trying to keep the situation on schedule despite the strange mood.
You go to stand by the mainmast, joining a scruffy, wild-haired sailor.
Murzuni offers a helpless shrug in your direction.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair follows your gaze with concern, but doesn't appear to notice anything. A brief flick of his eyes to those around him. They linger on a pantherine, aurelian-eyed young woman, briefly, then a scholarly young man with piercing eyes, before jutting back to you. He remains quiet.
The ship beneath you glides across smooth waters.
Paldeo grabs a scruffy, wild-haired sailor by the hair, giving him a shake. "What the?" grumbles the captain in disdain. "Who drugged this idiot?"
You step away from the mainmast, leaving.
(At the railing): A pantherine, aurelian-eyed young woman slants a look sidelong to a scholarly young man with piercing eyes when she softly mentions in your direction, "It f--ls lik- on- c-nnot mov- on this ship witho-t b-mping into -n Irz-li fop, r--ll-." [in Sirdabi with a dusky, purring contralto] Catching sight of a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair a moment, she offers up to him a fleeting sort of smile before looking back to you.
Paldeo looks around those gathered with a suspicious scowl.
Reluctantly, Murzuni says, "I did."
A coppery, lithe young man stares towards you. He poorly conceals a questioning glance to Murzuni at the question.
(At the railing): A plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache purses his lips together, glancing northward reflexively but at your last question his eyes cut toward Murzuni and a supple, smoke-tooled mahogany leather vest with a flicker of annoyance.
(At a large, tar-sealed barrel): A stout, square-faced woman frowns.
Darkness seems to grow in the sea below. Bubbles rise and pop to the surface of the water, which roils in a nerve-wracking fashion. The deck of the ship dips and twists precariously under you.
Murzuni manages to keep his footing on deck.
A plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache manages to keep his footing on deck.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man manages to keep his footing on deck.
A stout, square-faced woman manages to keep her footing on deck.
A rich mahogany-haired man pitches into a sprawl!
A scholarly young man with piercing eyes pitches into a sprawl!
A pantherine, aurelian-eyed young woman manages to keep her footing on deck.
Paldeo lets his gaze land on Murzuni. He heaves a gusty, vocal sigh that sounds more like a frustrated groan. "Why?" he demands, tone hard. "The law is the law on my ship, Murzuni. Do you --"
Paldeo spins to look around as the deck abruptly starts to rock.
The hintest of a smile at an overheard quip, before a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair glances at Murzuni, a brow quirked in surprise. And then ... he nearly falls to the deck, before keeping his footing!
(At a large, tar-sealed barrel): A stout, square-faced woman grimaces, barely keeping her footing. "Wh-t th-- -h, n-ghtm-r-." [in Sirdabi with a mellow contralto]
"Shadow's balls!" [in Sirdabi with an eccentric, Irzali-flavored tenor] a plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache curses under his breath, taking a few hasty steps in deck as he works to keep his footing.
Small scraps of cloud appear to speckle the cool blue sky.
Murzuni somehow keeps his footing, turning to stare over the railing. "I... think we have other problems," he remarks to you. His voice is fairly level. It hides the faintest quaver of shock and fear.
A towering brute with shorn raven hair grimaces, shifting a little against the railing but also not moving to assist anyone.
Paldeo quickly glances to a pox-scarred guy. "Etennay!" he calls, alarmed, grabbing a jaunty sharkskin captain's hat.
The ship floats smoothly upon calm waves.
A coppery, lithe young man staggers and straightens, stepping away from the railing, staring in an unnerved fashion to the sea. (Stand)
Straightening his vest with a nervous tug, a plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache tells you sardonically, "You must understand, captain, our people have a need to feel civilized about beating a chained man."
A pox-scarred guy rushes over to the railing to stare down at the bubbles beneath the surface.
"By the beard of the Prophet, what-" a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair asks, cutting himself off as he turns to look over the railing in alarm.
Coalescing into larger masses, the billowy clouds scud softly across the azure heavens.
(At the railing): A pantherine, aurelian-eyed young woman grips more tightly to the railing while she casts a look over into the darkening sea below.
A rich mahogany-haired man does not maintain his footing. He hits the deck and scrambles with a pained yelp to get back up.
A rich mahogany-haired man sits up near a well-sealed cabin lantern.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man flails out both arms to kep his balance, a loud gasp of surprise escaping from him. "What caused that?" [in Sirdabi with a light, airy tenor] he asks, glancing around until his eyes land on the waters pass the railing. His expression blanches slightly, but he tries to keep his calm.
(At the railing): Murzuni turns and stares into the water.
Murzuni peers towards the railing.
(At the railing): A scholarly young man with piercing eyes seems about to say something to a pantherine, aurelian-eyed young woman, but when the deck surges he loses his balance. Fumbling for the railing, the inanimate object fails in its main task. The young man falls to the deck, slamming his knee on the wood. He groans loudly.
A rich mahogany-haired man puts a bunch of 2 stems of hairy orangey-brown seamoss in a pale leather satchel.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man scans towards the railing.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair straightens to stand near the railing, shifting his position to have his feet more firmly planted on the deck.
A plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache hastens from the railing and over toward a large, tar-sealed barrel instead, flashing a quick, breathless grin of dark humor at a stout, square-faced woman. (Stand)
A slender, black-haired young man walks over from the way north to the fore.
A stout, square-faced woman peers towards the railing.
An imposing, ebon-dark woman walks over from the way north to the fore.
You look up at the sky.
There is an ominous thundering in the distance to the southwest, as the sky above begins to fill with clouds. The ship continues to wobble drastically, as if the keel is being battered by some turbulence below.
Murzuni pitches into a sprawl!
A plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache manages to keep his footing on deck.
A coppery, lithe young man manages to keep his footing on deck.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man pitches into a sprawl!
A stout, square-faced woman manages to keep her footing on deck.
A rich mahogany-haired man manages to keep his footing on deck.
A pantherine, aurelian-eyed young woman manages to keep her footing on deck.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair manages to keep his footing on deck.
A slender, black-haired young man manages to keep his footing on deck.
A short elderly woman manages to keep her footing on deck.
An imposing, ebon-dark woman manages to keep her footing on deck.
You squint towards the railing...
Looking to the way in, you can see...
[The Southeastern Adelantean, Upon a Vast Blue-Green Sea]
A cream-hued soap bar stamped with a mountain peak is here. <-- WELL I NEVER!
Thunder rolls across the heavens as a storm rages.
Cardinal Exits: east (water)
Other: a timeworn naval freighter
You can't see any further.
Murzuni looks up at the sky.
The ship sways perilously back-and-forth.
Paldeo turns a stare of disbelief towards the southwestern sky, and then a quick look northeast. He glances around at everyone on deck, with a rare moment of panic widening his eyes.
You shout, "GET INSIDE!"
A pox-scarred guy shouts, "BATTEN THE HATCHES!" [in Sirdabi with a harshly-affected countertenor]
(At a large, tar-sealed barrel): A stout, square-faced woman looks at a plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache, starting to speak before the thundering drowns her out. "Shit, shit..."
"Uhh ... " Is all that a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair emits, looking around him with concern. He looks to Murzuni, and goes to help him up.
A pox-scarred guy abruptly turns to start shouting at sailors, and the crew bursts into chaotic action when the thunderclouds show up in the sky.
A towering brute with shorn raven hair allows his face to wrinkle in obvious concern at the your words, and at the cry, the Tessouare immediately looks towards a pantherine, aurelian-eyed young woman.
A stout, square-faced woman sprints for the hatch. "Nightmare's fucking curse!"
"What about him?" a plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache calls, annoyed, toward you, even as he's leaving a large, tar-sealed barrel and beginning to move northward.
A stout, square-faced woman pauses, looking to a scruffy, wild-haired sailor.
A plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache looks pointedly toward a scruffy, wild-haired sailor.
Having just arrived late to the gathering, a slender, black-haired young man 's legs shoot out in a reflexive wide-stanced crouch as the ship sways.
A stout, square-faced woman steps away from a large, tar-sealed barrel, leaving.
A pantherine, aurelian-eyed young woman immediately looks down to a scholarly young man with piercing eyes and holds out a hand to him as she wonders of a towering brute with shorn raven hair without glancing that way, "Have you seen the Shipwitch?"
Murzuni accepts a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair's hand and noises himself upright.
A short elderly woman slides across the deck into the nearesy cabin.
Murzuni gets up and stands near the railing.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a short elderly woman walks north to the fore.
A pox-scarred guy strides along the deck as the ship rocks drastically over the bubbling water, loudly directing sailors.
A darkly stormy sky roils over the land, the blue-grey clouds sending down torrents of driving rain.
A plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache goes to stand beside the mainmast, joining a scruffy, wild-haired sailor.
A pox-scarred guy shouts, "REEF THE SAILS!"
A towering brute with shorn raven hair falls in alongside a pantherine, aurelian-eyed young woman, and the Tessouare simply says, "Forepeak," [in Sirdabi with a gravelly, rumbling bass] while looking around as everyone scrambles.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man cries out in alarm and grabs his shoulder when he falls to the deck. He lies there for a second staring up at the growing clouds in the sky. As he scrambles to his feet, he takes a few deep breaths and forceably calms himself.
Still down on one knee, a scholarly young man with piercing eyes clutches it, wincing in pain. He stares at you when the cry comes out, and he follows the look to the south. He takes a pantherine, aurelian-eyed young woman's offered hand and hauls up to his feet, favouring his good leg. "I think... the captain's advice is good to take. Let's leave this for the professionals." [in Sirdabi with precise bass]
A shout in a bright and boisterous mezzo-soprano can be heard from the mainmast.
"REEFING THE SAILS!" [in Sirdabi with a bright and boisterous mezzo-soprano]
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man gets up and stands.
A towering brute with shorn raven hair falls in with a pantherine, aurelian-eyed young woman.
A scholarly young man with piercing eyes falls in with a pantherine, aurelian-eyed young woman.
A scruffy, wild-haired sailor seems to wake up for a second, then falls back asleep with a mumble lost beneath the rumble of thunder.
"Hey!" a plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache shouts at you, impatient, from where he stands over a scruffy, wild-haired sailor. "Where's the key?"
An imposing, ebon-dark woman scans towards the mainmast.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a short elderly woman walks over from the way north to the fore.
The ship's deck sways as it hits a wave.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a short elderly woman walks north to the fore.
A coppery, lithe young man looks up at the sky.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair looks around, eyeing the crowd and beginning to follow along. He then looks to a plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache and a scruffy, wild-haired sailor, eyes widened.
A coppery, lithe young man scans towards the mainmast.
A rich mahogany-haired man falls in with Murzuni.
Murzuni puts a small utilitarian knife in a large, pebbly-leather backpack.
A stout, square-faced woman looks up at the sky.
Paldeo looks to a plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache. "What?" he demands, then glances towards a scruffy, wild-haired sailor -- his stance widening as he crouches to try to stay upright upon the slanting deck.
A pantherine, aurelian-eyed young woman doesn't say anything further as she begins making her way back toward the forecastle.
"Fuck!" a plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache yells at the splash of the wave, grabbing at the mainmast for balance.
A scholarly young man with piercing eyes gets up and stands near the railing.
Murzuni clings to the railing as the storm begins to gain intensity, his eyes narrowed as he stares out into the rain.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a pantherine, aurelian-eyed young woman walks north to the fore, with a fluid, feline grace.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a scholarly young man with piercing eyes walks north to the fore.
A scruffy, wild-haired sailor visibly struggles to remain conscious.
A towering brute with shorn raven hair straightens to stand near the railing.
Hearing a pox-scarred guy, a coppery, lithe young man starts to manage some rope, climbing up to join in reefing the mainsails.
A towering brute with shorn raven hair draws a leather-hilted greatsword from a dark leather weapon harness.
"You're leaving him?!" a plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache asks you, glowering over.
Wind tears past in a sudden gust as the ship plunges and heaves through the storm.
The sea around the ship gurgles with a sense of ominous pressure. A hissing steam rises from the waters.
Murzuni manages to keep his footing on deck.
A towering brute with shorn raven hair manages to keep his footing on deck.
A plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache manages to keep his footing on deck.
A coppery, lithe young man manages to keep his footing on deck.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man manages to keep his footing on deck.
A stout, square-faced woman manages to keep her footing on deck.
A rich mahogany-haired man manages to keep his footing on deck.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair manages to keep his footing on deck.
A slender, black-haired young man manages to keep his footing on deck.
An imposing, ebon-dark woman manages to keep her footing on deck.
Paldeo fights his way across the rain-slick deck towards the mainmast, grabbing a plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache by the shoulder.
You approach the mainmast.
You grip a plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache firmly in one hand, ready to start dragging.
A stout, square-faced woman says to you, "Criminal or no, he's a part of your crew."
A towering brute with shorn raven hair moves over towards a scruffy, wild-haired sailor, and there is a glance at a plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache though the Tessouare says nothing as he drags the large lump of steel from his a dark leather weapon harness.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair grunts as the storm begins to make things difficult. He looks decidedly uncomfortable. "Can we free him somehow?" a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair asks a plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache, nodding to the man's concern. A gust then almost knocks him to his feet.
An imposing, ebon-dark woman snags at a rope aside with one hand, squinting heavily against wind and rain and spray.
You shout, "ALL PASSENGERS GET BELOW!"
You unlock a heavy chain with shackles.
A plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache looking at the others, his gaze sweeping around. "And all the rest of you, too." He scoffs, holding a jaunty indigo turban pinned with a black kalij feather on his head with some difficulty, "Your justice is ratshit. I hope you reali-- Hey!"
A plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache is dragged.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a short elderly woman walks over from the way north to the fore.
A stout, square-faced woman approaches the mainmast.
A towering brute with shorn raven hair sharply says to a scruffy, wild-haired sailor, "Careful." As he is about to raise his blade to take a swing at the heavy chain, but stops as you moves in to assist the shackled man.
Paldeo shoves a plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache at a scruffy, wild-haired sailor, growling, "Unshackle Mizzi, take 'im below!"
A pox-scarred guy shouts, "CUT THE JIB!"
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a short elderly woman walks away up south to the aft.
The ship creaks onwards within the fierce squall.
A rich mahogany-haired man peers towards south to the aft.
Murzuni stares into the water as it begins to bubble and boil. "I'll get the jib!"
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a short elderly woman walks over from up south to the aft.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair attempts to make his way over to a plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache. "I can help. Maybe."
A towering brute with shorn raven hair turns away immediately, hissing something under his breath as he struggles to stay upright and pushes on along the main deck.
(At the railing): His attention split between the mainmast and the sudden, steaming bubbling in the seas below, a slender, black-haired young man speaks, "Oh h-lls..." [in with a lilting countertenor]
A plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache submits now to whatever manhandling comes his way, fear showing on his face after his outburst, hands on a jaunty indigo turban pinned with a black kalij feather to keep it on his head.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a towering brute with shorn raven hair walks north to the fore, wielding a leather-hilted greatsword in his right hand.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, Murzuni walks north to the fore.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a rich mahogany-haired man walks north to the fore.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair approaches the mainmast.
A slender, black-haired young man scans towards north to the fore.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a slender, black-haired young man walks north to the fore, keeping both hands on the railing.
A coppery, lithe young man begins to climb up the heavy rigging ropes of the mainmast.
Paldeo clutches at a jaunty sharkskin captain's hat, trying to keep it from blowing off in the harsh, storm-flung rain. "PASSENGERS BELOW DECK!" he bellows again, but his voice is torn away in a burst of wind.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a coppery, lithe young man climbs the mainmast.
A plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache grabs at a scruffy, wild-haired sailor, yelling, "Come you fool! You rat! You idiot! I refuse to die for you!"
A long peal of thunder rolls through the air as a powerful wind lashes the rain about.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair looks directly at a plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache. "Come. Help me. I will drag him below. Let's -go-."
A stout, square-faced woman frees a scruffy, wild-haired sailor from a heavy chain with shackles.
An imposing, ebon-dark woman spots a short elderly woman, and moves toward her through the storm, offering out an arm.
Worried, a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man says, "I don't think he's in any state to walk by himself."
Paldeo continues to hold onto a jaunty sharkskin captain's hat as the thunderstorm drags at the ship.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair grips a scruffy, wild-haired sailor firmly in one hand, ready to start dragging.
A burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair says, "I've got him."."
A shout in a bright and boisterous mezzo-soprano can be heard from the mainmast.
"OI YOU! CUT THE BLOODY JIB!"
You bellow, "REEF THE SAILS! CUT THE JIB! GET BELOW!"
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a burly, sienna-hued young man with short walnut-brown hair walks north to the fore, dragging a scruffy, wild-haired sailor.
A short elderly woman holds onto the woman who is helping her.
The ship's deck sways as it hits a wave.
A short elderly woman says, "Thank you so much." [in Sirdabi with an off-key soprano]
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a stout, square-faced woman walks north to the fore.
A yell in a low-toned baritone cuts through the air from the way north to the fore.
"I HAVE THE JIB!"
A massive wave rises into the dark of the storm, obscuring the eastern sky.
A plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache manages to keep his footing on deck.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man manages to keep his footing on deck.
An imposing, ebon-dark woman manages to keep her footing on deck.
A short elderly woman manages to keep her footing on deck.
A short, reddish-gold-eyed young man starts stagging across the deck, grabbing at whatever he can to help stabilize his footing.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a short, reddish-gold-eyed young man walks north to the fore.
A pox-scarred guy shouts, "SECURE --!"
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a plump, nimble fellow with a dainty mustache walks north to the fore.
A shout in an oily tenor breaks out from the railing.
"HELP! HELP!"
Paldeo staggers about to stare at the wave.
You shout, "ROGUE WAVE!!!"
Leading her to the fore, struggling to raise her voice above the noise, an imposing, ebon-dark woman says to a short elderly woman, "Come, grandmother!" [in Sirdabi with a hoarsely broken, half-whispered contralto]
The ship battles across ferocious waves, the scent of the sea tossed up on the wind.
A short elderly woman falls in with an imposing, ebon-dark woman.
The massive rogue wave crashes down, sending the Greenest Dolphin careening across the turbulent waters like a leaf adrift in a great stormy rapids.
An imposing, ebon-dark woman pitches into a sprawl!
A short elderly woman pitches into a sprawl!
A short elderly woman says, "Thank you, I can't seem to keep steady."
Paldeo tenses, staggering over to grab hold of the railing -- right before the wave smashes down.
An imposing, ebon-dark woman grabs for support with one hand, and holds a short elderly woman close with the other arm, battling the heaving deck-- and losing, abruptly, as her grip slips.
You bellow, "AAAAARGGGH!"
An imposing, ebon-dark woman gets up and stands.
A short elderly woman grabs at anything she can.
A short elderly woman gets up and stands.
A howl in a wispy soprano can be heard from the way north to the fore.
"BY THE EYE OF GOD!" [in Sirdabi with a wispy soprano]
Struggling through the violence of the storm, an imposing, ebon-dark woman walks north to the fore.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a short elderly woman walks north to the fore.
A yell in a low-toned baritone cuts through the air from the way north to the fore.
"THE JIB'S CUT FREE, CAPTAIN!"
A pox-scarred guy shouts, "HOOLD ONNNN...!"
A darkly-tanned crewmate staggers over, trying to help an imposing, ebon-dark woman and a short elderly woman.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a darkly-tanned crewmate walks north to the fore, wielding a heavy ship's mop in his right hand.
The ship continues to rush with terrifying speed through the darkness of the thunderstorm, crashing up and down the sides of monstrous waves.
A pox-scarred guy shouts, "BATTEN THE HATCHES!"
You squint towards south to the aft...
Looking to the way south, you can see...
[The Greenest Dolphin, Quarterdeck|]
You can't see far at all right now.
You squint towards north to the fore...
You can't see anything more.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, you walk up south to the aft.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a pox-scarred guy walks up from the way down to the main deck northward.
[The Greenest Dolphin, Quarterdeck]
You are on [a timeworn naval freighter].
The quarterdeck is accessed by short, tight stairs on either side of the door to the captain's cabin. Up here, the large wheel is mounted facing the far front of the ship, with a fine view of the main deck and the forecastle. A battered wooden railing surrounds the dutifully-swabbed planks here, preventing unintended spills from this height above the waves.
A pox-scarred guy is here, holding a battered cat o'nine tail whip in his right hand.
You are upon a ship. Thunder rolls across the heavens as a storm rages.
Cardinal Exits: down to the main deck northward
Struggling through the violence of the storm, you walk down to the main deck northward.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a pox-scarred guy walks over from up south to the aft.
[The Greenest Dolphin, Main Deck, Aft]
You are on [a timeworn naval freighter].
At the back end of the main deck, the captain's cabin hunkers below the quarterdeck. The battered hardwood of the Greenest Dolphin is evidently kept ship-shape by regular swabbing with oil and tar. Above, the network of ropes that manages the mainsail creaks in any wind.
A large, tar-sealed barrel is here.
A pox-scarred guy is here, holding a battered cat o'nine tail whip in his right hand.
You are upon a ship. Thunder rolls across the heavens as a storm rages.
Cardinal Exits: south to the aft and north to the fore
Other: the Captain's Cabin: squat cabin door (closed) and the mainmast (steep)
You squint towards the mainmast...
Looking to the way up, you can see...
[The Greenest Dolphin, Climbing the Mainmast]
Also here is a coppery, lithe young man.
Thunder rolls across the heavens as a storm rages.
Cardinal Exits:
Other: down and up
Further, there is:
[The Greenest Dolphin, Halfway Up the Mainmast]
A fit feral-haired filly clutches onto the mainmast for dear life, watching the waves with paranoia.
You shout, "THE SAIL'S SECURE! GET INSIDE!"
A shout in a bright and boisterous mezzo-soprano breaks out from the mainmast.
"THERE'S A PASSENGER UP HERE, CAPTAIN!"
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a coppery, lithe young man climbs over from the mainmast.
A coppery, lithe young man climbs down adroitly.
A coppery, lithe young man shouts, "I'M COMING!"
Holding onto a rope for what appears to be dear life, Paldeo stares at a coppery, lithe young man, and gestures to the squat cabin door.
A yell in a low-toned baritone can be distantly made out from the railing.
"INTO THE HOLD! NOT THE FORECASTLE! SHE'LL FLOOD!"
Paldeo staggers over to the squat cabin door.
A coppery, lithe young man descends, and heads to the hatch, soaked, battered, but shouting: "You said to get the sails!"
You unlock a rusted padlock in the squat cabin door while it is closed.
You open the squat cabin door.
The ship beneath you creaks onwards within the fierce squall.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a coppery, lithe young man walks away up east to the aft.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a fit feral-haired filly climbs over from the mainmast.
A fit feral-haired filly climbs down adroitly.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a coppery, lithe young man walks over from up east to the aft.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a coppery, lithe young man walks west to the fore.
Paldeo looks to a fit feral-haired filly. "CABIN!" he bellows through the sound of thunder. "OR THE HOLD!"
A great wash of seawater floods across the deck as the ship careens around, some underwater pressure dragging its hull northeastward.
A fit feral-haired filly pitches into a sprawl!
You scream.
Paldeo releases a completely unmanful howl as the ship tips around with such speed and fury.
A pox-scarred guy grips you firmly in one hand, ready to start dragging.
Wind tears past in a sudden gust as the ship battles across ferocious waves.
A fit feral-haired filly slides down the mainmast but nearly gets tossed clean off it - sure enough, she loses her footing and grits her teeth as she tumbles onto the deck. "WHICHEVER'S CLOSEST!!" she yells at you, scampering after a pox-scarred guy and he.
A fit feral-haired filly struggles to move.
A fit feral-haired filly gets up and stands.
A fit feral-haired filly visibly struggles to remain conscious.
A pox-scarred guy reaches out to grab you, holding onto the railing at the same time. "JIR!" she shouts towards a fit feral-haired filly.
You struggle against a pox-scarred guy's hold.
A pox-scarred guy releases you.
Paldeo fights across the deck towards a fit feral-haired filly.
You grip a fit feral-haired filly firmly in one hand, ready to start dragging.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, you walk through the squat cabin door, , managing to slide in as the deck tips drastically again.
A pox-scarred guy walks through the squat cabin door.
[The Greenest Dolphin, Captain's Cabin]
You are on [a timeworn naval freighter].
Below the quarterdeck, this cabin is small and stout and musty, with a desk built solidly into one wall and a bunk into the other. A round window, plated with a thick circle of somewhat-flawed and bubbly glass, looks out onto the main deck, and a well-sealed lantern hangs on a hook from the middle of the ceiling.
A ship's map is here. A sturdy wooden crate stamped with a rising sun in a circle is here.
A fit feral-haired filly is held by you here. A pox-scarred guy is here, holding a battered cat o'nine tail whip in his right hand.
The area is damp.
Cardinal Exits:
Other: out: squat cabin door (open)
You drop a fit feral-haired filly on the floor.
You release a fit feral-haired filly.
A pox-scarred guy walks away through the squat cabin door.
Paldeo pants heavily within the sodden cabin as the ship tilts and creaks in the middle of the storm.
A fit feral-haired filly whines as the tipping of the ship continues to work against them. Her attempts come to a darkening end, corners of her visions going bad, until-- you braves the storm and gives her a hard reset. "Ugh... ow-ow shit..."
You shake your head.
Shoving himself forward, you say, "I'll go check, stay here--!"
You walk through the squat cabin door.
[The Greenest Dolphin, Main Deck, Aft]
You are on [a timeworn naval freighter].
At the back end of the main deck, the captain's cabin hunkers below the quarterdeck. The battered hardwood of the Greenest Dolphin is evidently kept ship-shape by regular swabbing with oil and tar. Above, the network of ropes that manages the mainsail creaks in any wind.
A large, tar-sealed barrel is here.
A pox-scarred guy is here, holding a battered cat o'nine tail whip in his right hand.
You are upon a ship. Thunder rolls across the heavens as a storm rages.
Cardinal Exits: east to the aft and west to the fore
Other: the Captain's Cabin: squat cabin door (open) and the mainmast (steep)
Struggling through the violence of the storm, a pox-scarred guy walks away through the squat cabin door.
A shout in a bright and boisterous mezzo-soprano breaks out from a round window.
"TAKE CARE OF THE PASSENGERS, CAPTAIN!"
The squat cabin door closes.
You squint towards the mainmast...
You can't see anything more.
Wind and storm buffet against the mast, and it breaks in two with a tremendous cracking noise. The crash as the wood hits the waves off port is barely audible, a splinter of a toothpick falling into a raging sea.
You shout, "THE MAST --!! AAAARGH!"
You squint towards the mainmast...
You can't see anything more.
You begin to climb up the heavy rigging ropes of the mainmast.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, you climb the mainmast.
You climb up adroitly.
A heavy thunderstorm pummels the dim world.
You squint up...
You can't see anything more.
[The Greenest Dolphin, On a Broken Mainmast]
You are on [a timeworn naval freighter].
One has not climbed up far before they've managed to reach the top of the now-broken mainmast. The wood has been splintered horribly, and the entire upper reach of the mast is completely gone.
You are upon a ship. Thunder rolls across the heavens as a storm rages.
Cardinal Exits:
Other: down (steep)
A shout in a bright and boisterous mezzo-soprano can be distantly made out from the way down.
"WHAT'S HAPPENING TO THE MAST?!"
You begin to climb down the heavy rigging ropes of the mainmast.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, you climb down.
You climb down adroitly.
[The Greenest Dolphin, Main Deck, Aft]
You are on [a timeworn naval freighter].
At the back end of the main deck, the captain's cabin hunkers below the quarterdeck. The battered hardwood of the Greenest Dolphin is evidently kept ship-shape by regular swabbing with oil and tar. Above, the network of ropes that manages the mainsail creaks in any wind.
A large, tar-sealed barrel is here.
You are upon a ship. Thunder rolls across the heavens as a storm rages.
Cardinal Exits: east to the aft and west to the fore
Other: the Captain's Cabin: squat cabin door (closed) and the mainmast (steep)
You approach a large and tar-sealed barrel.
You pick up a large, tar-sealed barrel from the deck.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, you walk west to the fore.
[The Greenest Dolphin, Main Deck, Fore]
You are on [a timeworn naval freighter].
Worn by time but kept in good shape by consistent care, this Kalentoi-style naval freighter has proven itself capable of navigating the calmer fringes of the tumultuous Adelantean Sea. A rectangular mainsail spreads out across a grid of ropes upheld by the mainmast here, while a steep and narrow stairway descends down past a hatch into the hold. To aft, the quarterdeck stands over the captain's cabin, and to the fore is the deck above the forecastle that contains lodgings for both crew and passengers.
You are upon a ship. Thunder rolls across the heavens as a storm rages.
Cardinal Exits: west to the fore and east to the aft
Other: down to the hold: wooden hatch (closed), the forecastle: squat cabin door (open), and out onto open waters (water)
The vessel rocks and creaks beneath you.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, you walk through the squat cabin door.
[The Greenest Dolphin, Forecastle]
You are on [a timeworn naval freighter].
This is the interior of the ship below the forecastle deck, where crew and passengers may quarter. The ceiling is rather low and the space cramped. While the wood that makes up the surroundings is old and battered and retains a perpetual particular smell, it looks well-cared for, swabbed with oil and patched between the planks with pitch. Several hammocks are hung from the ceiling on sliding hooks set over sturdy rungs, allowing them to be opened or closed and pushed to the side.
Also here are a citrine-eyed noirette and a rich mahogany-haired man. A tall and swarthy sea-weathered man is deeply asleep and dead to the world on a relatively-new canvas hammock, holding a stack of 6 dried fatty rations in his left hand. A fox-faced woman with apprehensive green eyes is kneeling down here. A slender, black-haired young man is here, crawling.
Barely there, the smell of blood and faintly fleshy floats in the air. The area is speckled lightly with blood and lightly splotched with filmy liquid.
Cardinal Exits: towards the dingy north end of the forecastle, the southern Port Cabin: squat cabin door (open), and the northern Starboard Cabin: squat cabin door (closed)
Other: out: squat cabin door (open)
The ship creaks and rocks frantically over the waves, but the ominous bubbling around the ship's keel is absent. Instead, there is the faint scent and chill of a wintery fog.
A rich mahogany-haired man manages to keep his footing on deck.
A fox-faced woman with apprehensive green eyes says, "Or maybe we'll just drown... I think maybe I'd rather drown than be crushed and broken by cargo.."
You drop a large, tar-sealed barrel on the floor, practically rolling into the forecastle with it as the deck tips precariously.
With a shriek of relief, a slender, black-haired young man says, "Captain! Fer all that's holy, don' let me die with this mad woman!"
Eyes visibly struggling to stay open, a rich mahogany-haired man says, "Probably isn't definitely. Move and survive. For now." [in Sirdabi with a whiny baritone]
A fox-faced woman with apprehensive green eyes jerks in startlement and turns to stare at you.
Paldeo starts to roll right back out of the forecastle, but manages to grab the door.
A thunderstorm rages through the night. The ship sways perilously back-and-forth on, into the western Adelantean sea.
You close the squat cabin door, with a slam.
You sit down on the floor, sliding down against the door.
A fox-faced woman with apprehensive green eyes stares at you in confusion. "Why... why are you here?"
Paldeo pants heavily, seeming to be trying to catch his breath. Finally he says, somewhat incomprehensibly, "The mast's gone."
A rich mahogany-haired man sits down on the floor.
A fox-faced woman with apprehensive green eyes says, "Oh." She seems to take this in for a little while, then just nods somberly as if this were only to be expected.
A slender, black-haired young man sits up on the floor, falling back against the wall as if not understanding your words.
From the interior of the ship, you can sense that it drifts on gently.
Paldeo reaches up fitfully to touch a jaunty sharkskin captain's hat, as if trying to make sure it's still there.
A fox-faced woman with apprehensive green eyes confirms, "So we're all going to die, then." She nods again, then drops her head back against the wall.
Paldeo notices some dignified natural-hued cambric sirwaal, completely drenched and tangled around his arm. "Uh," he starts. "Are these your pants?" He offers them to the closest passenger.
You offer some dignified natural-hued cambric sirwaal to a slender, black-haired young man.
A rich mahogany-haired man peers at the closed door. "Well. We aren't going to get the ship moving in the normal fashion again, then?"
Glancing down at saffron-yellow knit sirwaal with a wan smile, a slender, black-haired young man says, "They're...not..."
A slender, black-haired young man declines the offer of some dignified natural-hued cambric sirwaal from you.
From the interior of the ship, you can sense that it continues across softly lapping waves.
A fox-faced woman with apprehensive green eyes slants her gaze sidelong towards you, then breaks out in a stifled, snorting cascade of laughter.
You drop some dignified natural-hued cambric sirwaal on the floor, untangling them from his arm and depositing them nearby.
You straighten to stand, struggling upwards to turn towards the door behind him.
A slender, black-haired young man straightens to stand.
You open the squat cabin door.
A slender, black-haired young man scans towards the open squat cabin door.
You walk through the squat cabin door.
You close the squat cabin door.
[The Greenest Dolphin, Main Deck, Fore]
You are on [a timeworn naval freighter].
Worn by time but kept in good shape by consistent care, this Kalentoi-style naval freighter has proven itself capable of navigating the calmer fringes of the tumultuous Adelantean Sea. A rectangular mainsail spreads out across a grid of ropes upheld by the mainmast here, while a steep and narrow stairway descends down past a hatch into the hold. To aft, the quarterdeck stands over the captain's cabin, and to the fore is the deck above the forecastle that contains lodgings for both crew and passengers.
You are upon a ship. Thunder rolls across the heavens as a storm rages.
Cardinal Exits: north to the fore and south to the aft
Other: down to the hold: wooden hatch (closed), the forecastle: squat cabin door (closed), and out onto open waters (water)
The vessel rocks and creaks beneath you.
Struggling through the violence of the storm, you walk south to the aft.
The squat cabin door opens.
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, you walk west to the fore.
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, you walk east to the aft.
You shout, "IT'S..."
(Hidden) You whisper, "...calm."
You look up at the sky.
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, you walk west to the fore.
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, you walk east to the aft.
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, you walk east to the aft.
[The Greenest Dolphin, Main Deck, Aft]
You are on [a timeworn naval freighter].
At the back end of the main deck, the captain's cabin hunkers below the quarterdeck. The battered hardwood of the Greenest Dolphin is evidently kept ship-shape by regular swabbing with oil and tar. Above, the network of ropes that manages the mainsail creaks in any wind.
You are upon a ship. Reaching tendrils of mist slinks about the periphery of the day.
Cardinal Exits: east to the aft and west to the fore
Other: the Captain's Cabin: squat cabin door (closed) and the mainmast (steep)
You open the squat cabin door.
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, you walk through the squat cabin door.
[The Greenest Dolphin, Captain's Cabin]
You are on [a timeworn naval freighter].
Below the quarterdeck, this cabin is small and stout and musty, with a desk built solidly into one wall and a bunk into the other. A round window, plated with a thick circle of somewhat-flawed and bubbly glass, looks out onto the main deck, and a well-sealed lantern hangs on a hook from the middle of the ceiling.
A ship's map is here. A sturdy wooden crate stamped with a rising sun in a circle is here.
A fit feral-haired filly is sitting down here. A pox-scarred guy is here, holding a battered cat o'nine tail whip in his right hand.
The area is damp.
Cardinal Exits:
Other: out: squat cabin door (open)
Paldeo steps in with a swirl of strange mist. He gives a pox-scarred guy a grave look, and then glances to a fit feral-haired filly.
With an odd tension, you say, "... it's calm."
A fit feral-haired filly flinches with a fast flutter of lashes when you busts in through the door. ".. what?"
A pox-scarred guy opens her mouth, then closes it. She glances to a fit feral-haired filly, then clenches her jaw and walks over to the door.
A pox-scarred guy walks away through the squat cabin door.
You shrug helplessly at a fit feral-haired filly
You walk through the squat cabin door.
[The Greenest Dolphin, Main Deck, Aft]
You are on [a timeworn naval freighter].
At the back end of the main deck, the captain's cabin hunkers below the quarterdeck. The battered hardwood of the Greenest Dolphin is evidently kept ship-shape by regular swabbing with oil and tar. Above, the network of ropes that manages the mainsail creaks in any wind.
A pox-scarred guy is here, holding a battered cat o'nine tail whip in his right hand.
You are upon a ship. Reaching tendrils of mist slinks about the periphery of the day.
Cardinal Exits: east to the aft and west to the fore
Other: the Captain's Cabin: squat cabin door (open) and the mainmast (steep)
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, a pox-scarred guy walks away through the squat cabin door.
Water dries on you, leaving you slightly damp.
You feel tired.
The wind gusts violently, sending sheets of rain racing across the land.
Water dries on you, leaving you slightly damp.
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, a pox-scarred guy walks through the squat cabin door.
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, a pox-scarred guy walks away through the squat cabin door.
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, you walk through the squat cabin door.
[The Greenest Dolphin, Captain's Cabin]
You are on [a timeworn naval freighter].
Below the quarterdeck, this cabin is small and stout and musty, with a desk built solidly into one wall and a bunk into the other. A round window, plated with a thick circle of somewhat-flawed and bubbly glass, looks out onto the main deck, and a well-sealed lantern hangs on a hook from the middle of the ceiling.
A ship's map is here. A sturdy wooden crate stamped with a rising sun in a circle is here.
Also here is a fit feral-haired filly. A pox-scarred guy is here, holding a battered cat o'nine tail whip in his right hand.
The area is damp.
Cardinal Exits:
Other: out: squat cabin door (open)
Paldeo glances from a fit feral-haired filly to a pox-scarred guy.
You pick a fit feral-haired filly up and carry her in both your arms.
With a grunt, you say, "Sorry -- I don't think Etennay can carry ya."
A pox-scarred guy nods to you.
A pox-scarred guy falls in with you.
You walk through the squat cabin door, carrying a fit feral-haired filly in your arms.
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, a pox-scarred guy walks through the squat cabin door.
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, you walk west to the fore, carrying a fit feral-haired filly in your arms.
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, a pox-scarred guy walks over from the way east to the aft.
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, you walk through the squat cabin door, carrying a fit feral-haired filly in your arms.
A pox-scarred guy walks through the squat cabin door.
The last of the water on you dries away, leaving you fully dried off.
A rich mahogany-haired man gets out a steel flask from a pale leather satchel in his possession.
[The Greenest Dolphin, Forecastle]
You are on [a timeworn naval freighter].
This is the interior of the ship below the forecastle deck, where crew and passengers may quarter. The ceiling is rather low and the space cramped. While the wood that makes up the surroundings is old and battered and retains a perpetual particular smell, it looks well-cared for, swabbed with oil and patched between the planks with pitch. Several hammocks are hung from the ceiling on sliding hooks set over sturdy rungs, allowing them to be opened or closed and pushed to the side.
A large, tar-sealed barrel is here. Some dignified natural-hued cambric sirwaal is here.
Also here is a citrine-eyed noirette. A tall and swarthy sea-weathered man is deeply asleep and dead to the world on a relatively-new canvas hammock, holding a stack of 6 dried fatty rations in his left hand. A rich mahogany-haired man is standing here, holding a steel flask in his right hand. A fox-faced woman with apprehensive green eyes is standing near the frame of the open squat cabin door, holding a battered blue wool cloak in her right hand. A slender, black-haired young man is asleep here. A fit feral-haired filly is held by you here. A pox-scarred guy is here, holding a battered cat o'nine tail whip in his right hand.
Barely there, the smell of blood and faintly fleshy might be lightly whiffed. The area is speckled lightly with blood and lightly splotched with filmy liquid.
Cardinal Exits: towards the dingy north end of the forecastle, the southern Port Cabin: squat cabin door (open), and the northern Starboard Cabin: squat cabin door (closed)
Other: out: squat cabin door (open)
Stepping into the forecastle, you say, "Got a hurt sailor!"
A rich mahogany-haired man takes stock of a fit feral-haired filly.
You approach a grubby canvas hammock.
You carefully lay a fit feral-haired filly on a grubby canvas hammock.
A fox-faced woman with apprehensive green eyes says, ".. oh no."
A fit feral-haired filly mumbles something unintelligibly towards a pox-scarred guy but soon she's wincing as you looses her into one of the hammocks. "Urgh, feels like.. I have a bruise. That happened to have a body on it.."
A fox-faced woman with apprehensive green eyes limps her way over to a fit feral-haired filly, frowning down at her. (Stand)
Paldeo glances down at a fit feral-haired filly uncertainly, then looks about at the others, and backs away from the hammock. He beckons to a pox-scarred guy and heads out.
Around you, the ship tranquilly glides on.
You walk through the squat cabin door.
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, a pox-scarred guy walks through the squat cabin door.
The vessel rocks and creaks beneath you.
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, you walk west to the fore.
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, a pox-scarred guy walks over from the way east to the aft.
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, you walk east to the aft.
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, a pox-scarred guy walks over from the way west to the fore.
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, you walk east to the aft.
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, a pox-scarred guy walks over from the way west to the fore.
Amidst the ominously quiet mist, you walk through the squat cabin door.
A pox-scarred guy walks through the squat cabin door.
You close the squat cabin door.
[The Greenest Dolphin, Captain's Cabin]
You are on [a timeworn naval freighter].
Below the quarterdeck, this cabin is small and stout and musty, with a desk built solidly into one wall and a bunk into the other. A round window, plated with a thick circle of somewhat-flawed and bubbly glass, looks out onto the main deck, and a well-sealed lantern hangs on a hook from the middle of the ceiling.
A ship's map is here. A sturdy wooden crate stamped with a rising sun in a circle is here.
A pox-scarred guy is here, holding a battered cat o'nine tail whip in his right hand.
The area is damp.
Cardinal Exits:
Other: out: squat cabin door (closed)
You lock a rusted padlock in the squat cabin door.
After a tremendous storm and strange behavior from the sea, the Greenest Dolphin has ended up in strange, unknown waters -- surrounded by an eerie mist, and without a mainmast.