westwhere | the concord

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the concord

THE CONCORD

The vessel Concord of the Dawn’s Reach Trade Company once more appears in the horizon. She has learned her lesson from the previous scuffle and the minor charring her sails took at the hands of Sumeragi Subaru: she remains at a cautious distance from the pirate ships. Quicksilver Sam concludes the Concord’s reticence is unlikely to persist long term and asks a delegation of characters to deliver two gifts to captain Maximilian Hawk, in hopes of deterring further aggressions.

He entrusts the peace-bearing party with two items: an especially small scroll, rolled to the length and width of a thumb, and a modest, worn and a heavily locked wooden box to the size of a man’s palm. The scroll, if unravelled, only shows, 39.42116 N. The box cannot be opened, but weighs very little.

✘ OBJECTIVE: deliver the gift to Maximilian Hawk and retrieve his answer.

■ Travel by rowboats to the Concord, bearing large white flags. The Concord will not attack the incomers, but beware hungering, long-clawed mermaids and sharks within the Crossing seas.

■ Once within reach of the Concord, characters are welcomed by a small armed escort that insists all weapons must remain on the rowboats. They check that this instruction has been carried out. Those who refuse to give up their weapons are not allowed on the Concord.

■ The Concord is large, magnificently well attended, clean and armed with the most modern cannons and navigational instruments. The crew comprises trained sailors and graduates of a navy school — the Dawn’s Reach Trade Company’s own academy. Deck patrols and sails and cannon inspections are diligently undertaken every few hours.

■ You reach the Concord by noon. Marcos Diaz is received by first mate John Lattimore for an initial parlay (please wait for NPC thread). Lattimore introduces the newcomers as refugees from the Pariah to the crew.

■ Captain Maximilian Hawk is in deep strategic congress with his employers at the Dawn’s Reach Trade Company until evening. During this time, you remain under escort but can chat with sailors, enjoy a canteen meal, or take a tour of the ship’s deck. Characters also have supervised access to a guest cabin, the captain’s library or the medical bay, as needed. Use your time wisely to learn the lay of the land.

■ Noteworthy on deck: two sailors laundering uniforms and restitching membrane-thin diving suits that allow breathing underwater for two hours; a brawl that leads to four disgruntled men being taken down for jailing in the brig; several sailors carrying or taking tally of small boxes containing delicate, thin white powders (if they are inspected: opiates); two sailors drawing up a perfectly serviceable small steampunk boat to repair its rudimentary engine. Note: no further information or clues are forthcoming on any of these items — they exist as props for your getaway.

■ Come evening, Jim Kirk is finally received to present Maximilian Hawk with Quicksilver Sam’s gifts. (NPC thread link forthcoming!).

■ Discretion seems to have lost some value as everyone waits out the outcome of Jim’s talk in the captain’s cabin. It appears lips have loosened, and the crew has learned that the newcomers aren’t refugees, but representatives of the pirate ships, when a sailor recognises one of them from the Concord's previous altercation at sea. Several sailors spark a brawl, flinging accusations and demanding retaliation for the injuries they sustained when the Concord was singed. They progress from verbal to physical blows, which their superiors try but ultimately fail to calm down.

■ Smooth talk your way into being allowed a clean exit, or better yet, SOS Jim and run. Grab any weapon or valuable you can find, and jump either on the boat you came in, or on the partially fixed steampunk tanker that’s been set at sea. Row and shield to bide Viktor time and cover, if he’s up for tackling the last of the boat's engine repairs.

■ Beware cannons! And head back to the Pariah and Queen Zanyra, you delinquents. Marcos and Jim Kirk can share any learnings.

QUESTIONS

PLOTTING

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[ He takes the cup offered to him without saying anything, letting his meet the Captain's before taking a small sip. He can't really say anything, neither agree nor disagree, but Hawk is right in that Vane doesn't seem to be acting like himself. For how little time he's spent here, he has seen how the crews react to his behavior. Suspecting, weary, distrustful, even his own men don't seem to follow or respect him as they once likely did. That in itself is a sign that he's not well.

But for now, he says none of that. In a moment, he'll try to poke at that topic, but for now he responds to the mention of gifts to set his cup down and procure both the scroll and the small box, handing them to the Captain. ]

I expect you'll know what they are better than I do?

[ The words are left with an open tone to it, a question he'd like to see answered. What are they? ]

Of course, of course.

( When he pours, it's with the generous of a man who sees gain within literal hand's reach. He allows himself another thumb's width of drink in his own cup, before gently settling the bottle to rest and anticipating Mr. Kirk's revelations.

All the same, he gasps when the gifts join the table, hands rushed and trembled when they round around the box, feeling out the blunt sides, the edges. Weighing it with fond reverence. )

Then, he had it. We suspected, but... he had it.

( And now it sits prettily in Maximilian Hawk's grasp, peacefully patient when his rattled fingers stumble on the latches. When he opens it, breath bated, it's — it contains...

...nothing. Not a damned scintilla of dust. Not a breeze. )

What game is this, Mr. Kirk? What is he playing at? And the... ( The scroll, unravelled quickly, almost hasty enough to tear it but falling short. 39.42116 N, inked beneath Hawk's nail. ) And the westward coordinate? Mr. Kirk?

[ Jim can't help his own curiosity, keeping close to watch Hawk open the box, see what he makes of that and of the small scroll.

He thought perhaps it would mean something to Hawk. Well, clearly it does, but the reaction makes it plenty clear that that's not what he was hoping for. ]

I'm sorry, [ He offers, stunted on what to say for a moment. The whole truth is probably not the best idea in this situation, but some truth might ease things, at least. ]

Many of us have been kept in the dark. There's a sense of distrust that spreads through the crews, when little is said about what our goal is. And Vane, he's... [ He trails off, then shakes his head. ] Not well. Like you said.

[ He gestures to the box as he continues. ] You recognized that. You expected something to be in there. Will you tell me what?

Is this a... a... ( Wet catches in his mouth, the graceless empirical proof of his fluster. He catches himself, grits his teeth. ) A farce. This is a farce, and now you are asking me questions, when you've come with —

( No. No, he will play the game. He eases the piece of parchment down on the table between them, making a spectacle of showing the one number: )

Mr. Kirk, we at sea name this a coordinate. Now, you may be no more cleverly educated than the bottom of my shoe, but allow me to impress on you, sir: there are two parts to a coordinate. This — ( And his nail catches on the number. ) ...is north. We are missing a second half of this instruction, without which, this... is futile to take us where we need to go.

( Distrust, Mr. Kirk says. Crews kept in the dark. No more than they deserve, for allying themselves with a renown pirate. )

You have also, generously, gifted me air. Now tell me, sir. Before I answer your questions: what in God's name do I gain from this conversation? Because at this pace, I expect you'll soon be gifting me sea salt or passage on my own ship.

[ Unlike Hawk, Jim stays quiet, and he stays calm, all throughout the very unnecessary explanation, even if Hawk may not know that. ]

I know how coordinates work. I feel like there must be some relevance to this, then— half of a coordinate, and an empty box. Incomplete gifts with no apparent use to them, not unless you have the rest to complete them.

[ But the question he poses is hard for him to answer. What does he gain? Nothing, probably. It's not like any of them were told anything about these gifts, or about what kind of message he was meant to convey, aside from it being a peacekeeping offer. And getting information isn't going to be easy if he can't offer anything in return to sweeten that deal.

He thought the gifts would do just that, but— well, evidently not. ]

Then nothing, I'm afraid. These aren't my gifts to you; I don't know what they mean, if anything I thought you'd be able to tell me. I am sorry if you feel lied to, if that's the case then it was neither my doing, nor my intention. With our visit here, I hoped— I just wanted to know more about Vane's purpose. You know him, I thought you might know something about what he's aiming towards.

Of course I know what they are.

( His temper, they've oft told him, will be the end of him. He feels no better than a raging bull, shown a red, rusty flag. He must contain himself. He had thought... coming here, after taking a beating throughout his earlier assembly, he had thought this would be what propels him from ruin, and yet — )

But who in God's name accepts to be a courier, having no understanding of what he does, but instead having the entitlement to ask questions?

( ...this man. And likely, those who came with him. When Hawk drinks, it's to long, greedy gulps and no end to his frustration. Right. Right, there are apologies. He waves them. What good are they now? )

I don't envy your position. You seem to have been sent here as some sort of... sacrifice. No doubt, that fool Vane expects I'll take the toll of my anger on you, and not him. He's not wrong. I am tempted. ( But. ) Clearly, you didn't come to be on his ship of your own agreement, if you don't even know his purpose. Who are you? Stowaways? Refugees?

[ Well, no one can accuse Hawk of being stupid, at least. But then after all that Jim's shared in this conversation, it's only natural that he would reach that conclusion so swiftly. Nevertheless, Jim hesitates to answer, if only because he's not at all sure in which position it will leave them, all of them, both with this crew and the pirates.

And if they have neither to lean on, then they really are screwed. ]

I'm not sure that either word would be a good descriptor, in our case. We... were lost at sea. On boats, on islands... and they found us, took us into their ships. It was just happenstance that they were the ones to find us and not you.

[ He dips his head, some sign of respect for what little good it will do him. ]

I don't mean to sound entitled when I ask these questions. We just want to know what we're getting involved in, is all. Wouldn't you?

...quite. Lost at sea and recovered by... pirates. Good God. You wretched fool, your luck.

( But he laughs bitterly, plainly, without real mirth. As if it's wrenched of him, and he understands his duty to perform the sound. ) How many are you? We can arrange... I am certain, even the likes of Samuel Vane will agree to a transfer of honest refugees. If you're not part of his...

( Another wave of the hand, careful. More drink — more drink, and he fills his cup and Mr. Kirk's own, again. )

Those coordinates. That box. They are his leverage, and the one reason why we have not exercised the full capability of this ship, which... you may have noticed is superior in weapons and calibre throughout.

( The better ship. He drinks, steadily. ) He's heading towards disaster. And we are bound to give chase.

[ Could've been worse, Jim nearly says, but decides to keep to himself. Honestly, the pirates were a godsend to some of them; they wouldn't have survived if not for their rescue.

The offer to welcome them onto his ship is surprising, and he takes a moment to let it sink in, taking his glass again but taking only a small sip. ]

I did notice you seemed to be holding back.

[ He figured it was something like this, some kind of leverage the pirates had on him; now he knows for sure. ]

There is a fair number of us. Over forty, and I don't know whether all of us would agree to leave the pirate ships, so it would have to be discussed. We're all very different people, [ He explains, then with some hesitation adds. ] There are also women among us.

Forty is... not insignificant, but, if need be, we could...

( Forty, dear God. Whom is he kidding? Forty is half too many, by far. When he drinks next, it's to the same game as Mr. Kirk beside him — biding his time. His grimace.

Until — )

...women? ( Why on earth is this a trouble — ...oohhhhhhhh. ) Are they... whores, Mr. Kirk? Pox-bearing? Clap? I can't take them, if they've got the sickness, sir, it'll only spread. You know how it is, with sailors. And we've been weeks at sea. But if they're clean —

( Oh, again. Wait. ) ...which is it? Are they pox-ridden whores, or is this the superstition nonsense?

[ Forty is a considerable number, he knows. But he figured he should be upfront about that, and if the offer is extended to all refugees, then it's all of them, or none.

Jim nods when Hawk repeats the word, then his eyebrows arch in surprise at his immediate conclusion. Before he can help it, he lets out a soft chuckle, lifting a hand right after. ]

No, nothing— nothing like that. Just women. Very capable women, in fact. I just wanted to be sure, since the pirates are so superstitious about it. They don't allow them to move freely on their ships.

Uneducated beasts, aren't they?

( This, with the compassion of a man who has discovered the fount of patience at the very bottom of his brandy cup and seems determined to sip of it at great and copious length. ) No, of course we'll treat your women fairly. We won't subject them to the hardships of the deck, in recognition of their natural frailty, but we will, of course, grant them every liberty.

( But his hand comes up, palm outward. Hold. ) That is to say, if we take them. Which, being forty, I admit... Mr. Kirk, you're in something of a predicament. You have nothing to give, and a great deal to ask.

( Far too much for one lone man to deliver. But. ) However, the Dawn's Reach Trade Company is not... without generosity. You're stranded with Captain Vane, heading in his direction. There isn't much we can do for you as dead. But if you engage to complete the mission he didn't... seeing you are already bound there... we can have an agreement.

( And another pause, then: ) We have three excellent whores, by the way.

( To sweeten the deal. )

[ Jim opens his mouth, closes it again, and just smiles, suppressing the urge to argue with Hawk on that one too. Suppose he would see for himself how capable and much sturdier they were, if he were to ever get them on his ship. Until then, it's a pointless argument to have, and he's dealt with enough sexism over the past week to last him a good, long while. ]

I am aware of that. For what it's worth, I didn't come here with the intention of seeking refuge on your ship; not for me, and not for all the others.

[ It was a surprising offer that the Captain put forth himself, and one he's very keen to consider.

The following offer should perhaps be more expected, but Jim has to admit to some reluctance at first. ]

I'd have to talk to the rest of the group, to see if they agree. And I would have to know all the details of the mission that you can provide in order to do that.

[ He smiles faintly. ] The, ah— whores are of no particular interest to me, personally. But maybe others among us will appreciate the offer?

[ Thanks but??? He'll just pass?? ]

Of course. ( Another wave. Cordial conversation finds him mightily agreeable. ) Of course, say no more. I understand sailors. In the academy, I was a sailor.

( For all of five minutes, before his merit-gained, certainly not financed promotion. He is a man who has earned every stripe he is not wearing. )

We gave Mr. Vane the, you will admit, generous opportunity to strike a commercial partnership and a long-standing alliance with the Dawn's Reach Trade Company. We are an organisation that offers... stability to markets, which are so often unbalanced in curious times. Chaos is a troubling thing, Mr. Kirk.

( A nod, for surely Mr. Kirk will agree. ) You might think what we do is... pinch opium here, sew silks there, plunder ore, or thieve magical instruments from where we are not welcome. But I ask you — take these whores you are clearly enamoured with. Let us assume... there were no more whores. All brothels were forever closed, due to a whim of your government, or a great natural disaster that has struck every pleasure house of your realm, or... even worse. Say you never discovered whores.

( This... with great sadness in his heart. What a striking exercise of the imagination. )

What would the miracle of a whore's discovery be worth to you, at a time of scarcity? Of ignorance? Mr. Kirk, the role we occupy is more than that of simple tradesmen. We make the impossible possible. We are... explorers. Adventures. Purveyors.

( ...of whores? )

Do you understand?

[ It's not the most fortunate of metaphors, but Jim's heard worse... probably. Anyway, he can easily understand what Hawk is saying, or at least he thinks he can. The Captain does seem to enjoy being vague, which frankly leaves Jim feeling more frustrated than anything else, but he tries to remind himself that exercising some patience might just work in his favor. ]

So, you're out here looking for something that either has been lost, or is only fabled to exist.

[ At least, it's how he would simplify Hawk's explanation. ]

Do you know more about it? Or have you only had access to vague clues so far?

[ He sets down his drink after a sip, wetting his lips thoughtfully before he decided to be candid about one more thing. ]

I know a little about being an explorer and adventurer. Prior to being here, I used to have a ship and crew of my own, and that's exactly the kind of missions we undertook. Exploratory missions, distant adventures. Going where others didn't, finding what others never had before.

No, Mr. Kirk. ( Only, yes, but that isn't the trouble here. ) Before I go about that business, I am trying to introduce you to who we are. What we do. And what our profession is, and what recommends us. This is critical in your understanding of a number of things.

( Which, another long drink of his cup and a second pour thereafter, Captain Hawk appears finally able to progress into: )

You might be excused for believing, when word began to spread of... powers and the unusual unknown that perhaps these issue belong to a realm of fantasy. Men drink, don't they, Mr. Kirk? ( A tip of Hawk's cup, toasting. ) And they have deck sicknesses, and, frankly, they could do with more oranges. But you must understand, most of our... tip-offs begin like this. Words. Whispers. Rumours. The fantastic, the allegorical, the strange. But then, we give chase.

( And they follow, they find, they profit. He seems, for a moment, apologetic — acquiescing. ) Or, when we find the waters have already been muddied by dozens of aggressive, barbaric contenders to find the same, we accept the service of a... representative. So we found ourselves in talks with Mr. Vane. And he found himself accepting our work in the Crossing. Do you follow so far?

[ It's the best idea that he just shut up and listen to what Hawk has to say. That is what he's here for, after all, and in the midst of all of this, the Captain might just let slip something of particular interest to them.

This is already interesting as it is, of course. He's admittedly impatient to know more, but pressuring Hawk to hurry won't do him any favors.

Well. At least they've moved on from that whore metaphor.

He nods at the question, gesturing towards him with his glass in hand. ]

Go on.

( An audience, particularly deceived into the misconception that it is not captive, is a pleasant sight. Most flattering. After the bruising his pride has born on this day, during the sheer unpleasantness of his conclave encounter, it's rather nice to meet a man intent on Hawk's good opinion.

He gives it with an air of gifting the peasants their first slice of cake. )

Mr. Vane entered the waters of the Crossing equipped with men we paid, a ship we brought to the latest standards, weapons we supplied, coordinates we rescued at dear expense and in singular copy, which has been charmed against memorisation or replication —

( A nod, where half of that instruction still sits staring balefully back from the torn parchment. )

And a box. That box you so quaintly delivered. I am given to understand the Company was first unsure it contained what it claimed to. A piece that calls to whatever it is we mean to find, as insurance he would find it. Don't ask me how the Company discovered it, lad, we've scouts who'll find blood in stone. But they did. And now... that box is empty.

( God damn that thief, Vane. )

[ He is well aware he is captive, quite literally in this case. Leaving wouldn't be impossible necessarily, but it would certainly be difficult, and it'd put their group at risk, no doubt. Besides, the conversation isn't going so poorly, so keeping up the peaceful and diplomatic approach is his best option. ]

So he's taunting you, do you think? And we were just the necessary sacrifice.

[ He'd say that Vane isn't quite in the right state of mind for these kinds of games, but what does he know? Maybe he does know what he's doing. Or maybe someone else on that ship is steering him. Wouldn't surprise him. ]

The box may be empty, but he must have that piece on him. Somewhere, on his ship.

[ As well as the charmed copy of those coordinates. ]

( Taunting him. As if that were the word, or Maximilian Hawk the man foolish enough to entertain it. He knows how wretched creatures like Samuel Vane think — on a primitive and disappointingly rash level, bereft of sense or strategy.

When the young man before him, clearly possessed of more intellect than luck, pieces the strings together, Hawk rewards him with another silent toast. More brandy, after. )

That's right. That's right, he must do. He's... he's goading me. He's... letting me know he has it, and if we — if we go after him... ( A long, deep swallow. ) It's the only card left for him to play. I'm surprised he's doing it so early. But I expect he's... desperate. Pirates often are. And you're right. He must have it.

( But then he pauses, and his eyes slant, feline-like, and he offers with a honeyed mouth: ) Of course, if you were to find it. And bring it to us... you would not find us ungrateful. As we've discussed.

[ Half a coordinate, and an empty box— why else would he send these things to Hawk? It doesn't feel like a gesture intended to achieve peace, to Jim. Clearly Hawk doesn't see it that way, either. Unless there's some kind of meaning to the gesture in Vane's mind that they're somehow both missing.

He straightens a little more when Hawk suggests that he find said item, the words followed by a silence that lasts a few good seconds. ]

I'm not against it.

[ On the contrary, he is quite against it. Or at least, against the thought of handing Vane over like he knows Hawk wants. Or figures he wants, at least, particularly from the feedback he got about Marcos's talk with the first mate. It goes very much against everything he believes in.

But what Hawk doesn't know won't hurt him. Well, it might hurt Jim, but that's a problem for a later date. ]

Like I told you, I'd need to speak to the rest of the group. But I would need to know exactly what you demand of us, what you would offer in return, and what exactly is this item we're supposed to be looking for.

I've already told you what we're looking for. Keep up. If we had a better sense of it, we wouldn't have required an explorer. You have the... piece on your ship, I imagine. It will lead you to the greater whole, irrespective of what you do.

( In this, at least, even a band of miscreants and fools is guaranteed the success of the mission they have yet to agree to. )

All we want is what we are naturally entitled to. ( A faint pause, then a wave of his hand. ) And a minor interest. For the time, resources and cost of opportunity entirely wasted. We'll take the Pariah. She looks... fitting enough. Will require upgrades, but...

( Well, what ship doesn't? ) In exchange, we will more than keep you safe, but offer you plain and escorted delivery to your destination of choice, along with a financial incentive to start you will in your new lives at shore. Your cut, if you will. Let's call it, for the sake of equanimity, a quarter of the Pariah's proceeds, and the entirety of the Queen Zanyra, if you can wrestle her from her invader. For you, as the broker, obviously, you can have one of our whores.

( The least said of Caladan Kreil, it appears, the better. And Maximilian Hawk, who has been earnestly running his mouth for the better part of an hour, seems finally depleted of that interest. )

Go. Present your offer to your people. Send me word within a few days — a private exchange.

[ That's all he's going to get out of this conversation, he can tell. Unfortunate that Hawk can't tell him more about what they're supposedly looking for, or simply doesn't want to tell him more. It'll have to do.

All things considered, it has been a useful mission, and if nothing else it has ended on a good, peaceful note. At the very least, Jim thinks he's managed to get them a way out of this ship without getting attacked, so that's a win in his book. ]

Thank you, [ He dips his head, setting his glass back down on the Captain's desk. He can take his cue when he sees it's time to leave. ] I'll get back to you as soon as I have an answer.

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the concord

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I'm so sorry!! The last couple days took a turn. I'm back on the ball.

please don't worry at all - hope you're okay!

all is well, thanks!

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