westwhere | no man's sea

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no man's sea

Avast ye — sprawling til 18 June is part I of the Storm at Sea travel arc, which doubles as a test drive. Participants don’t need an invite to reserve or apply over 10-17 June.

Try to label if you’re a test drive tourist or an old timer — and don’t hesitate to leave an OOC note to opt out of random NPC piraaaaaaaargh interaction. Test drivers can post both log and network prompts. Have fun!

NO MAN’S SEA

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AHOY! SCALLYWAGS

Departing Ke-Waihu, the existing party joins paranoid pirate king, turned stalwart saint Samuel Vane — the feared Quicksilver Sam — aboard the Pariah.

Test drivers awaken anguishing at sea, floating on rafts, or on minuscule patches of deserted land. They are collected by two pirates and the recalcitrant sorceress Karsa — who supplies translation and communication devices. She explains the newcomers were summoned into the land of Akhuras by warring undead factions. Karsa’s master, the elusive Merchant, ferries newcomers east to beacons hoped to return them home. He has secured them passage on the pirate vessel Queen Zanyra of ’Wet Rope’ Caladan Kreil, an associate of Quicksilver Sam.

The Pariah and Zanyra meet at sea, a day’s travel away from Ke-Waihu:

■ Characters overhear that Quicksilver Sam seeks to reach the haunted Crossing Seas and ‘settle an old score.’ Long-term ally Caladan Kreil supports his cause.

■ The two vessels make daily supply and crew exchanges by rowboat. The Pariah’s passengers must give the passcode: flaunted like gold to board the Queen Zanyra. Staff of the Queen Zanyra must speak the words before the blind man to access the Pariah. Forget your passcode and fall at the mercy of whoever patrols the decks!

■ Tasks await all passengers: diligently clean and polish decks, climb tall masts to sew torn sails, banish a preposterous number of seagulls, fish, read post or… dubious novels to sailors, count loot, guard the decks, clean cannons or serve as boat lure for shark fishing. Medics and cooks can practise their natural trades, while musicians and entertainers should amuse the crew.

■ By all means, grab thematic garments from crew coffers. Also available: daggers, swords and rare pistols.

■ Characters may notice both ship crews are spirited, but grow weary when Quicksilver Sam fitfully orders his five on-call priests to carry out protection rites, or to ‘exorcise’ evil from random staff — through ineffective bitter potions, shrill chants and requests to sit in unusual luck-incurring poses, or to commit some mundane, repetitive task. Let’s bore the devil away.

■ Treat senior crew with respect: some pirates are equally drunk on rum and fleetingly authority and reward perceived slights with a 24h-stay in the brig. These fine accommodations fit two and annul powers while there. No dinner.

■ Sleep where you can: hammocks and rotting mattresses can be found in great common halls beneath decks. The sick and women (naturally, ill omens at sea) can share the four private cabins of each ship. Sumeragi Subaru has his own cabin aboard the Pariah.

■ Each night, expect drinking beneath the halls and a pirate’s greatest hobby: gambling. Conmen might lure you into an ‘innocent game’ that sinks you deep into debt, winning your valuables, favours, or kidney!

■ Ladies are afforded a wide, begrudging berth and some authority over the crew.

■ Accommodations: fresh potions are readily available to ward off sea sickness, and magically resilient oranges are on hand to counter scurvy. As woe would have it, the long-serving Mr. Ishmael has passed, and his earthly remains have been retained aboard the Pariah for Kaneki Ken. Viktor receives a leashed emotional support albatross — a large, loud but docile bird that flies above him counter-current to balance him, whenever the ship’s sway threatens his footing.

OBJECTIVES

■ Discover why good Quicksilver Sam is intent on his haunted travels. The captain declines audiences, but try to get information from the two crews.

■ Please share the information gained via network…!

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THAT SON OF A BISCUIT EATER

Trouble starts to brew, within days at sea:

■ Be on the lookout while on watch duty: on a handful of occasions, new faces appear aboard. They fail to offer the passcode — and attempt to injure characters, throw them overboard, or to enter the captains’ lodgings. Sound the alarm or seize intruders!

■ After interrogating an infiltrator, Caladan Kreil sends word that the assailants hail from the Concord, a war vessel of the Dawns’ Reach Trade Company that is pursuing the pirate ships at distance under the command of Maximilian Hawk. A credit to his name, Wet Rope Caladan has the spy hanged.

■ Prepare to get drafted for double watch duty, as both Caladan Kreil and Quicksilver Sam bolster defences. Tensions escalate, with pirate crew questioning the loyalties of newer recruits.

■ A few days later, at dawns, the silent, swift and massive Concord approaches close enough to fire its cannons at both ships and send vicious militia to climb aboard. Defend your ship!

■ The Concord withdraws by midday, after lightly damaging its opponents. Help with repairs and enjoy some rum — you’ve survived your first sea scuffle!

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MOLLYWICK

Just short of entering the Crossing, where the seas are dark and highly opaque, the Queen Zanyra and Pariah encounter a stretch of vibrant, lushly forested land.

■ Both vessels send crew over for a few hours, with captains urging quick incursions. Pair up to collect berries, scant mushrooms and sweet water. Curiously, no animals are found.

■ Veteran sailors say this is the Neverflight isle of myth, where sea kings have buried their treasures. Pirates share legendary coordinates of long lost loot, archived as riddles or poems. Grab a shovel and a-digging you go!

■ …ah, but don’t linger too long. What pranksters your sailor friends are. Within hours of the island’s appearance, the earth beneath your feet crumbles and quakes, and the land starts to sink. Evacuate or call for help to get out of here — as the great white whale Mollywick submerges in the waters with the Neverflight island it carries on its back. Hopefully, you don’t go under with them.

■ If you’ve threaded out a treasure dig, drop a line to receive some especially deplorable loot. You deserve it.

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THE CROSSING

The Pariah and Queen Zanyra — frequently chained together to avoid separation — creep into the Crossing : a stretch of eerily silent waters, dark and volatile.

■

■ Slowly, a thick, nearly impregnable fog dawns during the day, covering the sun and leaving the skies a desolate slate. Dreadful storms spark at night.

■ Strange, talking carps jump on board, offering to tell you your future. Caution: they only make bad luck readings (request yours) that turn true. They appear wherever their target flees and are exceptionally annoying, until either the moon rises, or you apply the superstitious cure of throwing salt on them.

■ Nightmares haunt you — your own, or glimpsed memories of ships crashing, sinking, falling to storm. Note: only your character suffers these memories/nightmares, but everyone else can experience their exhausted grumpiness, come morning.

■ Be wary, when pairing to cross over to the other pirate ship: you may find another rowboat beside yours, its sailor begging for an oar or ladle. If you give him one, he shovels water into your boat with inhuman speed — desert your vessel and swim quickly to a pirate ship, before undead hands pull you into the sea.

■ While alone on deck, characters might hear sweet, coaxing voices that urge them to walk the plank into the water. Break your brethren from this spell, or watch them fall into the arms of man-eating mermaids.

■ Now and then, the ships are shaken by long, whips of something lashing from the depths.

■ Pirates become increasingly skittish and on edge. Priests perform countless protection rites and exorcisms on both ships.

■ At night, a handful of undead men climb aboard. They lack awareness and are in a clear state of discomposure, looking to catch the living and drown them. With toothless, rotting mouths, some rasp, This is kinder.

■ As you officially enter the Crossing, beams of light erupt in the horizon, showing the distant silhouettes of several ghost ships.

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NOTES

TEST DRIVE QUESTIONS

OLD-TIMER QUESTIONS

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Have you ever slept in one? They’re bloody uncomfortable. Better to be in a real —

[A real bed on a ship. He catches himself, but not without a flustered moment.

It was not so long ago.]

— Well, he’s no dog.

[He holds her hands, with their new callouses, and gives her a questioning look.]

The hammock is terrible because you’re not in it.

You sleep where you can and you learn to grow used to it. I imagine that I could sleep in the saddle, if need be.

[She's certainly been tired enough on horseback, willing to sleep anywhere.

She enjoyed the flustered look on his face, not aware of the specific instance he is thinking of, but guessing it had to do with the act.

His added flirtation earned a look of amusement, but clearly pleased.]

Perhaps being denied such things will make our passions all the stronger?

[His expression doubles in sincerity...]

I don’t know how that’s possible.

[… and then regret.]

I suppose we should be digging.

[But instead of setting to it, he leans in to kiss her.]

[She's never minded his attentions, even if they interfere with work. She was near done anyway, not enjoy a moment or two with Jon? So many kisses they were denied, now they can make up for some of them.]

Or berry hunting.

[She bumped his nose with hers. What a fine task that sounded like it would be.]

[When he comes up for air, he sighs.]

I wouldn’t be the first to put the berries in my mouth, not knowing the place. Berries, mushrooms, they’re all easy enough to mistake. One will feed you, another might kill you.

Might be they think it’s some kind of jape. How many times did you turn about the island before you found this place? I’ve walked it more than once.

[He has not really pulled away from her; it’s nice to hold her close like this.]

I wouldn't want you to risk yourself. Strange berries and mushrooms from this world might have adverse side effects. I won't allow it as queen.

[She grins, teasing him as always.]

It wasn't too difficult. They gave coordinates and Ser Barristan was diligent in helping me discern maps. I doubt that I would get very far without him.

See how far I am?

[That makes him pull her closer, a sudden tug, and kiss her soundly.]

You are my queen,

[He says, dizzyingly fond. It’s pleasant to be among the dunes with her, even here. It brings memories back of their days on Dragonstone… how her eyes looked sometimes violet, sometimes greenish, but usually a shining blue.

They are very bright violet now. He has not seen them look anything but violet since the beacon spit him out. If he thinks on it… haven’t they always been? He remembers how unusual he thought it was when he met her. Then, how the light caught them on the day when they rode out to see the forces outside of Taravast, and in the lighthouse.

He now looks lost in thought as he stares down at her.]

[She noticed how his attention drifted into his thoughts. There was a look in his eyes, one that was hard to read. Confused? Worried? Something else? The way he was looking down at her seemed almost as if he didn't fully see her. He was thinking of her, but it appeared as if he didn't remember she was there.

Dany frowned, cupping her palm against his hand.]

Jon? What is it?

He gives his head a small vague shake.

“Nothing. Only — sometimes your eyes lean more to blue. They’re very pretty. Very purple today.” A pause, and he adds, “You’re very pretty.”

She looked at him with deep confusion. She had never heard her eyes looked blue before.

"Perhaps they may shift indigo when I feel lust," a bit like now. "They have always been violet. I'm Targaryen and I bear the traits of my house, silver hair and purple eyes."

Edited 2022-06-27 22:46 (UTC)

He chuckles, though it does not quite dismiss his own slightly uneasy feeling.

“Aye, you are a Targaryen.” His smile returns, replacing the quizzical look. He tries to sound gallant. “Your eyes don’t look blue now. Might break my heart.”

A jest, to lighten the mood. In truth, he’s not so concerned about any sort of lack of lust.

"Only because I'm eager to dig up treasure like a proper pirate." She smiled, giving him a peck on the lips. Slipping out of his arms, she returned to her shovel, happily taking on the hard work. "I imagine seeing you work up a sweat will turn them more blue." If they turned blue.

It was a confusing thing for him to say. She would likely contemplate that tonight, but it was likely that he was confused, seeing more than her eyes?

He returns her little peck on the lips, but after she picks up her shovel, he does the same with his own.

“It’s got to be around here somewhere.” He frowns, then commences digging.

He’s a strong man for his size, but sand is heavy. The first hole he digs feels like it’s going nowhere, so he broadens it. It seems like something may be jutting into it from the side — just the edge of something.

It was close enough to her hole to make her think that it was a large chest. Setting aside the shovel, she knelt and brushed at the sand, unconcerned for how it would get everywhere. It was closer to home than her than anything else. After a few strokes, there was a clear glimpse of wood beneath the sand.

"Here it is," she was a bit breathless, excited for whatever might be inside.

"Help me lift it out." She could shovel, but lifting something heavy? That wasn't likely.

It isn’t easy or immediate, but with some struggle and some aid, he’s able to pull the chest out, at least enough to open it.

“It’s going to be full of old shoe leather,” he says, rueful, rubbing his hand where it had grasped the sandy edge of the box. But at least it doesn’t have the feel of the mirrors, and he doesn’t have any urge to make her wish on it. That is a consolation. It’s nothing but a big unwieldy box.

"It may be old leather, but even that might prove useful someday." She pushed open the chest, hearing the loud creak from long unused hinges. The swords caught her eyes first. She pulled on out, giving it a small swing. She's not very skilled with a blade, but she's wanted to learn and here were beautiful weapons.

"Something useful!"

There is some fabric under the sword she pulls out; he gives it a tug, and it turns out to be a linen shirt. A few holes here and there, but he sets it aside. It may be useful for carrying whatever else is in the chest.

He glances at her as she swings the sword about. “You want to use that? It probably isn’t very sharp.”

Back to the chest. The next thing is velvet, a quantity, with something rattling in it. The velvet proves to be a mantle, dark red, smelling of salt water and time in a chest, but the rattling is a necklace — a triple strand of pearls that slips out of the fabric to land in the sand before he catches it up to examine it. Costly.

Dany is all the colors of a pearl: it should be hers.

“Come here, I’ve found something for you.”

She grinned, her eyes reflected back at her in the blade, a light violet set against her tan skin. It may not be sharp, but she was excited. She stuck it in the sand, prepared and willing to do what was needed to make the sword battle ready. "That might be for the best now. I still need a teacher to show me how to wield it."

He was such a skilled swordsman, it touched her to imagine him helping her with her stance and how to swing. It would be intimate and she imagined, they wouldn't be able to keep their hands from each other in the process.

She glanced over, moving back to his side. "What is it?"

Edited 2022-07-10 05:22 (UTC)

He holds up the necklace so she can see it, all three shimmering strands. “It should be yours. I don’t know when I’d ever be able to — “ He hesitates, then chooses to explain it differently. “There are silversmiths in White Harbor, but I have no lands of my own. I won’t ever have jewels to give you.”

Moving to fasten it around her neck, he adds, “But the sword… aye, I can teach you that.”

The necklace took her breath away. While she was a queen and was given many gifts when she was hosted in Qarth, but they never truly touched her. The crown had meaning, but nothing like this. Drogo had given her a pelt that she wished she still had with her in this place. Much like that, this necklace had meaning, accompanied by a wish, a desire to offer her more.

It was that wish that moved her the most.

"I don't want jewels, Jon." She told him, turning so he could put the necklace on her. Having only fuzz for hair meant it wouldn't get caught. "I want you, only you."

Once the necklace is fastened in back, he turns her around again and looks at her, then, without preamble, pulls her close and kisses her.

He is not sure how it happened, how he found himself so in love with her. He had been charmed at their first meeting, more than he cared to admit, but since then, it had been slow and nearly secret, the way he found himself worrying for her and dreaming of her. And then, the beacon had sent him away from her for a time, and it had all happened again, as if what they are to each other is true and inevitable.

She yields to the kiss, parting her lips so that he could taste her. Her arms were tight around him, holding him as though there was a threat that he might disappear.

She had hesitated in her feelings, afraid to search them and see that she loved Jon Snow. With Daario's face still fresh in her mind, she had to somehow sort everything, where the past might rest and where her future could be. But the moment he was pulled into the mirror, there was no question in her mind. The loss of Jon nearly shattered her. Daario's absence had been felt, but it never hurt her the way losing Jon had.

Dany's kiss became a bit more fervent, eager to show him how deep her love ran.

If she yields to the kiss, he begins to lose himself in it. They have not spent a night together since leaving the villages. He has been taken from her twice: once here and then again in his return. He does not want to be parted from her again, but even tonight, he’ll be in a hammock and she’ll be in the ladies’ cabin.

“You have me. My body and my sword and my heart. You have my love.” He rests his forehead against hers, and breathes, and chuckles softly. “And a pretty necklace, whether you want it or not.”

She was eager to be with him, the length of time they spent apart made her hungrier. Her body warmed any time he was close to her. Not acting on her desires, pretending not to be affected, it was harder than she could manage. Her fingers curl in his hair as he pressed his brow to hers, her lips trembling, hoping for another kiss.

"I want all of it, I even want the necklace." She grinned, teasing him. "I will never dismiss a love token. All the better that we found it rather than had it made."

“All the better,” he agrees. He sounds a little fatuous, as lovers often do, but he doesn’t care; it’s all right if love makes a fool of him, if the love itself is as right as this.

Her mouth is just there, a small space from his, and swollen from kissing. He falls to kissing her again, his arms about her. This place is nearly private; they could lie in the sand or stand in the hole, and —

Eventually, he hears an insistent rustling in the box, and eventually, it distracts him enough to break the kiss and glance back at it.

“Did you hear that?”

A real smooth dude is here!

Swish!

pick up the shovel, Jon. there’s no smooching in the brig!

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GOOD THING THERE’S ONLY ONE TARGARYEN IN THIS CONVERSATION

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