A religious zealot has been traveling through all the cities of Elyria and spreading fear and a warning. A great storm is coming, one even worse than then the one that destroyed much of their land. This one will kill the rest of the land, leading to their ultimate destruction. Warning them that if nothing is done they will all perish.
Is he right? Is there anything they can do to stop the storm? Or is he spreading fear in order to create chaos or even in an attempt to bring the people together as one as they work to survive?
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Post by Coinneach M Quinlivan on Oct 17, 2018 18:15:48 GMT -5
Coinneach wandered through the streets of Tartus, intent on his destination instead of picking all of the pockets that happened to close to his person. A few of the bodies that wandered by him could certainly do with a lightened pocket, but being so near to the Ocean Song Tavern Coinneach didn't want to breach the agreement that his predecessor had seen fit to enforce. Never mind that he might possibly lose access to the only reliable information broker on the whole island of Tartus. Shaking his head, he kept his hands in his pockets and made a note to have some of his associate tail him the next time he walked this way. A decent enough number of profitable marks wandered through this section of town, and if they just happened to travel outside of what Coinneach considered an agreeable range of the tavern, it would be a shame if they made it home without having their persons checked for valuables.
So here he found himself, occasionally clicking his tongue at the opportunities that passed him by before coming onto the block that housed the tavern. A few sets of eyes looked his way as he rounded the corner, ones he knew well enough to be able wave off since he had been frequenting this way. Kieran had her own set of eyes all across Tartus, one that Coinneach had not been able to tap into. The urchins came to her with all the information a thief could ever hope for, but they had never sided with the thieves save for the occasional time when goals aligned with one another's.
Those joint efforts where only temporary at best, and typically quite profitable for both sides for different reasons. He did his best to not envy Kieran, seeing as how his own set of eyes scoured the city. Not nearly as effective as hers since no one really thought twice about an urchin sitting on the same street for days. It was far more noticeable when someone neatly dressed sat on a corner even for a few hours. A few bodies moved to keep and eye on him as he moved, his eyes closing a little as his only sign of annoyance.
"Tch, cannot even get away from her eyes regardless o' where I am." Coinneach quietly spat stepping off the main walkway through the street to watch the crowd that ebbed and flowed from the tavern, waiting for a while to see what he may be walking into. Blatantly ignoring the careful stares of Kieran's ever present eyes and ears. His character could be called into question on occasion, but once an accord was set, Coinneach MacKenna Quinlivan was never a man to back down on his end.
He cocked his head to the side as he leaned against the end of a building, his back to the alley while his thoughts took a moment to collect themselves. Kieran's deal was one of the few standing deals that existed on Tartus between guilds. The Ocean Song was too valuable a resource for any of them to spoil, and everything was reasonably priced to boot when it came to the food and drink. At least it was to Coinneach and more than a few of the regulars that he had spied from his time on the inside of the establishment. Some of the prices for information were questionable, but in the end money and details would always change owners. The supply of information from here always demanded a higher price than anywhere else, but it was well worth it since word on the street was generally skewed. Kieran could filter through all that she was told and glean the truth from all the distracting details.
Coinneach wasn't waiting on anything particular other than when he felt comfortable enough to go in.
Post by Creighton H. Callan on Oct 19, 2018 17:23:05 GMT -5
They all had their roles to play in maintaining the tenuous neutrality of the Ocean's Song. Coinneach made sure that his boys kept their hands to themselves and Creighton's... Creighton's boys made sure that no one ever caused too much of a ruckus in the homey tavern, themselve included, lest they draw the ire of their guild master. There was a standing order within the Pirates Guild that any problems raised for Miss Kieran would result in the perpetrator being used as chum. In Captain Callan's own words his men were required to, "Treat these hallowed halls as if they were a gods-damned temple". It was a decree that had held firm since his ascension to the position of guild master. The presence of so many pirates in the near permanent fixture in Tartus and Creighton's well-known adoration for the watering hole kept other ne'er-do-wells from causing too much trouble as well. In a place such as Tartus, trouble was inevitable.
Creighton sighed deeply as some of his boys were handling a bit of 'trouble'. The sound of fists upon flesh echoed through the alley beside the Ocean's Song. He paid little attention to it, filling his cherry wood pipe with an acrid-smelling herb and tamping it down. "That was a right poor decision on your part, 'Enry," he said, placing the worn implement between his lips. "I know the bloke slept with your wife and all. I feel for you, truly, I do. If you had decided to bash Bran's head in anywhere, literally anywhere else I could have overlooked it. You could have strolled up on to the deck of The Morrigan grabbed a belaying pin and rammed it down his throat and if you punctuated it with a 'he bedded my wife' I would have given you a nod and asked if you wanted a drink. You didn't though. You decided that it would be a good idea to do it here. In the Ocean's Song. In the only damn tavern in all of Tartus that I said, what, what did I say 'Enry?" Creighton's tone remained even as he produced a curious fire striker built like an asymmetrical, elongated U. Struck through shorter limb was a shaped piece of flint. Creighton brought the strange contraption to his pipe and after a few squeezes produced a small shower of sparks that ignited the pipe and briefly illuminated the alley.
"No fighting," A weak murmur passed through the beaten man's lips. Henry, as the man was known, had strolled into The Ocean's Song and struck another man. The fight had barely lasted more than a few blows before Creighton's men had seized the instigator and drug him out the door. It served no one for his men to beat the man in full view of the tavern. Better to take him outside and handle the situation quietly.
"No fighting," Creighton repeated looking upon the bloody figure. "I'm sure you know the punishment for breaking this holiest of tenants." Henry gave a slight nod. Despite the swelling around his eyes, there was still fire in them. Creighton inhaled deeply and proceeded to billow out smoke like a chimney. "Geez, 'Enry, you're a damn fool. Neave isn't worth getting introduced to the sharks and Bran," Creighton scoffed, releasing more smoke, "Bran's not worth a damn thing. Fart in a storm he is. Rules is rules though, friend." Creighton looked to his men who nodded their agreement. "Right, gotta be discipline on a ship and discipline in the guild. Take him away and throw him in The Morrigan's brig. We'll sort him out later."
The four sailors who had served as Creighton's bodyguard grabbed ahold of Henry and began his shameful trek towards Creighton's flagship. The master of the ship watched from the mouth of the backstreet as the lot of them disappeared into the throng of people. He regretted how things had played out. He genuinely liked Henry, he was bright, motivated, and loyal. He had all the makings of a proper officer if only he could have learned to hold his temper. It was a shame, really. "Waste of potential," Creighton mused to himself as he leaned into the wall of the Ocean's Song.
He'd deal with Bran and make sure that Neave was taken care of. Despite her infidelity, she had mouths to feed and money would likely be tight from this night forward. How much had Henry's last share been? Creighton looked out into the distance as he thought, hoping to sort his business before he returned to a night of debauchery. He likely would have if he had not seen a figure seemingly mimicking him across the way. The guild master blinked, making sure smoke hadn't clouded his vision. Still, a man nearly his physical match stood there. Knowing that it wasn't a trick of the eye Creighton honed in on the figure and marched his way through the crowd of people, smoke trailing behind him. As he drew closer the familiar details of Coinneach came into view and a sparse smile appeared on the pirate's face. "Hanging out in alleyways, eh? Bit beneath you." Creighton jibbed, having finally closed the gap between them.
He looked back over the shoulder and noted the clear view of the alley in which his men had dealt with Henry. "Good view of the show here." he added, offering up no explanation for the brutal display he'd been a part of. Coinneach M Quinlivan
Post by Coinneach M Quinlivan on Oct 22, 2018 18:01:58 GMT -5
Coinneach had failed to notice the group in the alley in front of him for a minute, being to entirely focused on the entrance to the tavern. It wasn't until the shower of sparks that his gaze was drawn to the scene in the opposite alley that he saw the all too familiar figure of Creighten and his men around on unfortunate soul. The man looked near dead, but even from this distance, Coinneach could see the man still had a gleam in his eye as he addressed the pirate. It didn't take much for Coinneach to guess the man had done something stupid in the Ocean Song Tavern to warrant being nearly beaten to death. While the method of punishment between the pirates and thieves was usually different, Coinneach could not fault Creaighton for the heavy hand. The only things that could stir Coinneach's ire was a misdeed in the tavern, or a misstep against his mother.
Just this morning, the Thieves Guild Leader had dished out his own beating on a man who had followed a mark into the tavern. While the offense had gone unnoticed by the man's own word, Coinneach was entirely sure that Keiren had indeed noticed. Loch, the offending party, was one of their newest recruits and didn't understand just how sorely he had offended Coinneach when he had started his telling of how he had swindled and picked the marks pocket until the metal rod had struck the back of his knee and brought him to the ground.
A few of the men had to pull their leader off the man after Loch had become unconscious from the beating. Coinneach had visibly flinched when he came to his senses, disappointed with himself for loosing his temper while wiping the bludgeon off on the mans shirt. The order to brand Loch's palm was given while he rifled through the man's pockets and took the ill-gotten loot back before taking his leave. It was a rare event for their leader to deal out such a harsh punishment, as most of the thieves knew better than to ignore the warning Coinneach had made sure everyone heard from his own mouth.
Violence wasn't a tool the Coinneach liked to use in the Thieves Guild, much less as a punishment on his own men. Ignoring one of the few tenets the guild had though was close to smacking everyone you worked with in the face. Which was something that the currently leader would not let pass without some sort of penance from the offending party.
The display in front of him came to a close as the four men Creighton kept about him took the man away, likely to their ship to be dealt with later. The Morrigan, if he could recall correctly. The pride and joy of the pirate fleet, and was a beautiful ship in Coinneach's own opinion. Though he had never seen it first hand save for the few times he had been near enough to the docks to catch a glimpse of the flagship from shore. In all truth of the matter, Coinnecah wasn't sure he ever wanted to be on the vessel save for being invited to have a drink one evening. Even then, ships were not his favorite thing since they had a tendency to be at sea when the worst happened with limited chance of survival should something happen.
The thoughts was shaken from him as Creighton caught sight of him, cutting a path through the crowd to where Coinneach stood in the opposite alley. The pirate ribbed him a little and got a small chuckle out of the thief before commenting on having a good view on the show. Thinking about his own morning made him shake his head a little.
"Oi' 'ad much the same 'dis mornin'. One o' mine got stickier fingers where he should'na 'ave. Won' be walking or talking much 'fer a while, much like the one ya' dealt with. Thas' what 'appens when you go against the rules though." Coinneach replied calmly enough to seem uninterested in a response. Both men knew well enough how to handle trouble, granted that the Thieves Guild Leader usually refrained from violence as a punishment. Loch would have gotten off a lot easier and he not bad mouthed Kieran or the pact that kept the tavern clear of trouble. He had kept talking even as the men around him quietly tried to stop him, the lot of which stared in mute horror at the sharp change in composure of their leader. The clean and composed nature taking a back seat to unbridled rage at the man for his incompetence. Sure violence was rare for the thieves as of late, but the rarity of it only impressed upon his men the severity of the misstep the man had taken.
"Oi've come to let Kieran know of the prick's punishment and ensure 'er that no more breaches will be permitted on our side." Coinneach sighed as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He didn't need some idiot spreading the idea that the tavern was fair game now. Never mind that it was the only place pirates and thieves could go to share space and drinks without fighting or at least some kind of contest.
" 'Specially since the lass 'prolly knows it 'appened. Cannot very well believe a rats fart don' go unnoticed with wha' eyes and ears she's got." Coinneach added with a laugh, running his hand front to back through his hair. It didn't help that he was fairly fond of the tavern's owner, and didn't want to slight her in any way. Creighton probably knew this fact well enough since Coinneach didn't try to keep his flirting and teasing a secret. This visit was as much about assuring no future incidents as it was an opportunity for him to visit.
Post by Creighton H. Callan on Oct 23, 2018 20:52:33 GMT -5
Creighton was rather fond of the Leader of the Thieves Guild. The two shared a similar disposition and while they had different leadership styles they had strode to establish a peaceful relationship between their guilds. It was a stark contrast to the relationship their predecessors shared. The previous Master of the Pirates Guild often lorded the fact that his guild had granted the Thieves safe haven over their head. The threat of war constantly loomed overhead and many of the guild members still despised the others. Creighton had taken steps to alleviate this tense atmosphere when he'd come to power. Only when Coin took up the mantle of guild leader did they see any attempts prove fruitful.
"That it is," Creighton affirmed, crossing his arms over his chest. He doubted that the punishment meted out by his contemporary was as severe as his own.
Coinneach was right to be fearful of the sea. She was a demanding mistress that asked much of the ships that sailed her and just as much from the crews that served those vessels. An act of disobedience, a single misstep, or straying from procedures could lead to the death of the whole crew. Discipline and order had to be upheld at all times. Breaking the rules laid out by the ship's articles or, in this case, the Guild's Articles of Agreement was often dealt with in a severe and heavy-handed manner. While Coinneach's man might not walk for some time Henry would most likely never walk again nor draw breath. It was understood by all that signed the articles that such would happen if they strayed from the rules laid forth. To many outliers, the Pirates Guild's rules seemed harsh, almost draconian, but it was a necessity for men of their trade. Creighton himself bore scars from mistakes he'd made early in his career.
"This guild business is a funny thing. Almost like being a father, not that I'd know. You bring these pups up, teach 'em the ropes, right from wrong, and give them the cane when they act like little shits." Creighton looked towards the street his men had marched. "No one ever told me that I'd have to play papa to a few hundred drunken sailors when I took the job."
Coin's quip about rats earned him a deep chuckle and helped Creighton's dour mood. "You sure that you aren't here just to pine after our favorite proprietress?" It didn't take an intelligence network to know that Coinneach flirted shamelessly with Kieran. Creighton couldn't blame him though. She was a pretty enough lass and Creighton himself was known to jokingly flirt with the woman. He wasn't sure how sincere Coin's advances were but Creighton would sometimes claim to be the thief's rival in love. He enjoyed pestering both the spymaster and the thief to no end. He did so with no malice, it was simply his way. The fact that he got similar treatment back only encouraged his playful antics.
"Either way, you've got a better reason for being here than I do. Spent all day in meeting with my captains and I wanted to blow off a lil' steam. Came here with the intention of getting carried home by my bodyguard or finding my way into a bed that wasn't my own. Didn't expect to have to beat the shit outta one of my boys and throw him in the brig." Creighton chewed on the stalk of his pipe showing his irritation with the turn of events.
"Now as much as I like standing around in alleys like a pair of whores waiting for a john I think I'd prefer to sit where there's a drink close at hand. What say you, Coin, up for a drink while you apologize to Miss Gothfraidh?" Creighton didn't exactly wait for a response, turning on his heel and making a beeline straight for the door of the tavern. He snickered before leaving earshot. "Sounds like the start of a bad joke, 'A thief and a pirate walk into a bar'."
Post by Coinneach M Quinlivan on Oct 25, 2018 0:06:48 GMT -5
Creighton's mention of acting more like fathers than actual leaders of a bunch of grown men struck home with Coinneach. He was not far from the truth of the matter as both men had to wrangle a bunch of idiots from making poor choices at the best of times. Even with the odds not in their favor, these two men had made their associates see the benefits of being peaceful with one another. After all, thieves stealing from pirates on shore was no better than pirates stealing from thieves at sea. Not a point that Coinneach was going to inform any of since it might have been seen as unpopular to compare pirates and "common" thieves. In the end, with peace between the two guilds, now the thieves could learn to be more than just their namesake. How to operate the store front or sail on the ship the guild owned, both of which were to paint a good face on the guild. The thought of the thieves guild ship stuck with Coinneach as he listened to Creighton rib him about pining after Kieran. The thief laughed, his posture far more relaxed than it had been, shaking his head as the laughter eased into continued chuckles.
"Tha's just a bonus o' comin' over fer' business," Coinneach shot back, his tone healthy with cheer as he continued with another thought. "An' mentioning business, Oi' might need ta' look into another ship 'ere before to long." he added as he wondered why his men wanted him to go ahead and ask around for a new vessel. Shaking the thought away, he stepped away from the wall toward Creighton and listened to how the other guild master had thought his day was to be. The man followed his rant up quickly with the desire to be in the tavern. No less with a drink near. The thought made Coinneach follow after Creighton only a few steps behind. Which was why he was lucky enough to hear the man comment about them being the beginning of a bad joke.
"Oh, that it does, granted-" Coinneach looked to Creighton as he pictured them in the joke instead of just some of their men, a smile crossing his features. "Oi' 'magine it turns from a joke to threat when it's you and me walkin' in." His head tilted slightly as he shrugged a little, not that Creighton was looking his way since his objective was the tavern after all.Even if there was no malice between the two men, by most common folk on the island, it was probably seen as an ill omen when the guild leaders walked in together. One the knew the men would simply roll their eyes or shake their head. Both thoughts made the thief happy since both of them were threats in their own rights.
"Aye, a drink does sound like just the thing. I'm sure some extra coin from me ought ta' help lighten the mood a wee bit, so oi'll buy." Coinneach offered as he let Creighton lead into the tavern, granted he was only a step and a half behind him. Not being entirely sure as to how irritated Kieran would be with him about his man was part of why he wanted Creighton to lead. The pirate could certainly shake off more than his fair share of wounds. The other reason was to see just who was seated in the place. It was an old habit of making sure the wrong faces weren't in a place to easily corner you. It may not have been as necessary these days, but old habits died hard.
OOC:Creighton can have choice of table or bar. Coin will follow Creighton H. Callan
Post by Creighton H. Callan on Oct 25, 2018 20:18:08 GMT -5
"How could I pass up an offer like that?" Creighton chimed as he took the lead. He had a vague notion as to why Coinneach had allowed him to go first and could sympathize. Unfortunately, he also feared that he had annoyed the owner of the Ocean's Song. Only three days prior he'd kicked out all of the clientele, flirted shamelessly with her new waitress, and caused all sorts of havoc. He'd left a large sum of money in a half-assed attempt at an apology but had yet to see the proprietress and verbally beg for forgiveness. Quite the pair we are. Scared of a waif like Kieran. Supposed to be the masters of this damned island. Creighton didn't care to vocalize his musings, instead, he mustered his courage and pressed onward, throwing open the doors of the tavern and waltzing in with more confidence than he should have.
As the tandem guild masters entered they were not greeted by the sight of their mutual business partner but by the blank stares of the tavern's patrons. They must have agreed with Coin's earlier comment of their presence being an ill omen as they looked on with an unhealthy mixture of shock, wonder, and terror. Most of the men and women quickly remembered themselves and averted their gazes, others continued to stare. The few men there under Creighton's command gave a nod to their leader and Crei was sure Coin's acknowledged him in some much more subtle way.
As Coin scanned the room Creighton walked to the bar, still wearing the air of reckless confidence. Attempts on his life were far and few between but happened often enough that the thought was always on the back of his mind. He'd worked diligently to cultivate a reputation that was equal parts fear and admiration to dissuade those that sought to harm him. Men who threatened Captain Callan were dealt with noisily and in public view. Still, he was aware that even that armor of terror was not enough to halt an assassin's blade. He had faith that his sneakier companion would call out any such attempt and if he didn't? Well, it would be Creighton's own fault for placing such trust in him.
Creighton made it to his intended seat without meeting his end and tapped the bar, calling for a tender's attention. The woman who sat behind the wooden counter was familiar enough with both figures that she didn't flinch at the sight of them. She went by Del and she was currently Creighton's third favorite face in the bar after the owner and a certain sultry songstress. Del met them with a placating smile before speaking. "Both of ya, huh? Special occasion?"
"Why it certainly is. My good friend here has graciously agreed to purchase me a drink. Let it be known that the Prince of Thieves is no misser. By the gods, he might just be the most generous man I know." Theatrics were a part of Creighton's grating charm. The better mood he was in the more grandiose he became. It usually pattered out after he was received with exasperation and sighs. The woman behind the bar rolled her eyes and looked to Coin. In the silent Swift language of their race, she asked just how he could put up with the man beside him. Creighton ignored the question. "Grog, love," Creighton said cheerfully before turning to face Coinneach. After taking the other man's order Del scooted away momentarily.
"So," Creighton began, his pompous tone vacating his voice. "What's this about a ship? Something wrong with the one you've got under your command or you just looking to expand your merchant fleet?" Allowing the Thieves a boat had been a hard-fought battle for Creighton. His men had been vehemently against it. They saw it as the Thieves treading upon their territory. In their minds, they had sole rights to the sea. Crighton would have lied if he didn't share some similar inclination. The sea, for lack of a better word, was his domain. Out there upon the waves, he ruled.
The relationship he wanted to maintain with Coinneach's guild required him to make concessions. It was firmly established that Coin's boys they would not engage in piracy and they would pay a minute percentage of their revune earned through the use of the ship as a tithe to the Pirates Guild. It was a paltry sum,mostly a placating gesture to appease Crei's captains. The money the Thieves brought in went into Tartus, in one way or another, and made it less of a shithole than it truly was. That was reason enough to allow them some presence upon the sea.
"Just pulled three galleons into port a few days ago from my last voyage. Promised one of them to one of my officers already. Other two... I could be persuaded to part with one of them for the proper amount of coin. Have to kiss the Captains Board's collective ass to make it happen. Hate the taste of shit so, be quite a bit, no matter how much I like ya. If you can sweeten the deal with some other incentives to make that lot happy be a lot less." Coinneach M Quinlivan
Post by Coinneach M Quinlivan on Oct 28, 2018 21:49:05 GMT -5
Coinneach couldn't fault the pirate leading the way for the boisterous display as he opened the door. Usually the only ones that people went after where thieves, but he had heard of a few that lacked the sense of self-preservation which kept most safe from the public disgrace of attacking Callan. The faces that greeted them only confirmed his joke earlier, a mix of terror and awe as the two crossed the threshold. It gave Coinneach time to look over he other patrons and see that all of the ones here currently were either regulars or someone he could recognize for one reason or another. No one more dangerous than his own men that sat sprinkled throughout the patrons in the front of them. Creighton's men let their leader and everyone know they were there, while his own men gave him the barest of nods to their leader. If there had been danger, one of his men would have warned him by now.
The lack of danger allowed Coinneach to relax the tension in the small of his back as he followed Creighton to the bar, sitting halfway in the stool and resting an arm on the counter top as he smiled to Del. Creighton talked a moment, giving Coinneach too much credit for buying drinks. In reality, Creighton was very near the only person beside Keiran that had been placed on a very small list of people he would stick his neck out for. They had helped each other, for both business and mutual peace, which had been hard fought on all sides. He couldn't imagine how hard a time Callan had with the pirates since the thieves had been so unwilling to work on a deal. Though, it had been done, and Coinneach was certainly going to show his appreciation for how hard the other guild master had fought for peace. He chuckled at the man and his head slightly as Del asked him a silent question.
"Ya' think he don' put up with me jus' as much?" Coinneach shot back jokingly as she shook her head and waited for his poison of choice. "Rum, if ya' would please." Del scooted away as soon as the word rum left his mouth and Creighton turned to him, suddenly switching to business as they waited for their drinks. The thieves having a ship had been a point that had nearly broken the peace at one point it seemed, since the pirates owned the waters around the island. Again though, after discussions and reason was found for it, they were allowed to have one and was another reason to show appreciation. With a ship, the thieves had brought in commerce for sure, but the seas were not theirs. Nor would it ever be which was perfectly fine as far as Coinneach was concerned. The joke about being more like fathers than leaders came up as he thought about how many times he had worried about his men on the sea. It was a mixed crew of experienced sailors and trainees. The want to learn did not always mean things that worried knowing sailors were caught though, which had led to this conversation. And maybe another fight judging by Callan's words.
"The ketch we 'ave has done us well so far, but the old girl is showing 'er age. Don' 'elp when the lads ignore an 'abormaster an' find an outcrop o' rocks to scrape against." Coinneach hissed through gritted teeth. He'd been happy the men had not had to swim to shore, but he had made sure to give the instructors aboard the 'Waif' a little more clout when it came to his men. Rubbing his eyes for a second, he thought about what the thieves could do besides just coin to help pay for the new boat if they actually got it.
"Hate to see the Waif go, but replacing 'er seems a bit more the roight idea than beachin' 'er for a year while trade dwindles." Coinneach chewed his lip for a moment as he wondered how the other captains would take that. " 'Oi mean, 'less you could use it fer somethin'." Coinneach asked, not knowing what possible use the ship could have in the other man's hands. It didn't seem proper to just beach the old boat when it had some decent wood in it still. If anyone would know what to do with a boat though, he imagined Creighton would be the person to talk to. He mentioned pulling three galleons in recently and it made Coinneach pause a moment, going through the mental pictures of boats that he had before deciding on one that seemed to fit. It didn't help that all the more he knew about boats was what he gathered when he got close enough to the harbor to talk to the sailors and catch a glimpse of the vessel they were talking about.
"Oh, 'Oi'me certain we can figure out a few thin's ta' make it easier ta' part with. Is there anythin' in particular yer' after?" Coinneach wasn't entirely certain what he could offer, but given some ideas he could certainly find something.
Post by Creighton H. Callan on Oct 31, 2018 21:47:30 GMT -5
Creighton rubbed at the layer of stubble coating his chin, mulling over Coinneach's offer. "There's always a use for a ship," Creighton replied, remembering the specifications of the double-masted boat the thieves used to traverse the seas. A small thing, suited for transporting small bits and baubles but hardly any serious cargo. It was the perfect size for those wishing to travel relatively unharassed and fairly easy to sail as well. Its age limited its constructive uses. "No uses that anyone who had a modicum of attachment to the ship would be happy to hear. If I take your Waif chances are she'll end up being loaded up with pitch and powder and rammed into some poor soul somewhere. Havin' a fireship on hand is always useful. " The Waif's value would do little to cushion the cost of purchasing a galleon. Then again, Creighton had possibly spoken out of turn.
A galleon was a beast of a ship. Better suited for war than trade, which, Creighton hoped, was not Coin's intent. They were used for trade often enough but Crei would have been squandering an excellent gun platform. Besides, Crei couldn't imagine that Coin's crew was ready to handle of that caliber quite yet. The cogs began to turn as Creighton laid out his current fleet in his eyes mind. Within his thoughts, the ships, captains, crews of the guild were kept neatly cataloged complete with mental footnotes attached to them detailing their merits and faults. A physical journal held more detailed information but Creighton was more than capable of calling up details of his men without its aide. "Might be able to finagle something. Girl in my service is due a proper promotion. She's not a Captain, y'see, but a commander, oversees a ship but it's not her's. She's got a neat little brig under her, smaller than what I was originally proposing but more your speed. Not that I'm doubting the capabilities of your men but goin' from, again no offense, a fishing boat to a proper ship is a big step.
"If I hand her one o' the galleons then there'll likely be a celebration. Big hoopla when a promotion like that happens bigger still when it's a ship like what I brought ashore. Say I sell that brig off in order to finance this celebration, kit out her gently-used vessel, and provide her with the necessary funds to put together a crew. Captains' Table can say nothing about that. That's just good business. Say I happen to sell it to one of the only entities on the island with the funds to purchase it. Can't be mad 'bout that neither. Only a few men on the whole island can purchase a brig and honestly your lot is the lesser of many evils.
You get your boat, lass gets a boat she wasn't expectin', and I get to throw a feast that raises morale and gets me in better with the rank and file. Win-win-win." The plan was by no means foolproof. It was shoddy and relied heavily on the fact that the guild would be distracted by the promotion of Vera. He knew he would not get out of the ploy unscathed but he had grown accustomed to taking a tongue lashing from the captains. The Captains Table was an entity created early in the Pirates Guild's storied history. A body of captains who held the Guild Master accountable for his actions much like the relationship between captain and quartermaster. They were unable to strip Creighton of his power but could cause him no shortage of headaches if he angered them. They had the power to veto his decisions as long as they had a majority vote and if fully agreed had the power to raise a vote to the guild to revoke Crei's right to leadership. The Pirates Guild, unlike many bodies, was wholely diplomatic and if the leader did not serve the best interests of the guild they were quickly cast down from their role. Creighton wondered if his counterpart was a slave to guild politics such as he himself was.
The clank of metal upon wood roused Creighton's spirits and stole the wind from his sails. Business was no longer on the table not until he had finished his first drink... or several depending on how the first one went down. "All of the blessings of the sea and the sky upon you, Del." Creighton said taking the flagon of grog and gulping down a prodigious amount of the lemon laced beverage. "Bah," he exclaimed clapping the nearly drained container back onto the counter. A shudder ran through his body and heat radiated from his belly. "Gods that hits the spot. Tastes even sweeter since it's free." Crei sat contentedly, reveling in the aftertastes of the mixed beverage.
While he wouldn't talk business between the two he could talk of business. "How's the sea treating you lot? I've been out to sea for nearly three months stamping out some competition and generally being a nuisance to the good people of Venetia. Haven't had the opportunity to check in." Creighton lifted his cup and emptied the dregs. "Y'know that my offer to take you out and show you how to run a ship still stands. Can't be a proper Toren without knowing how to sail." Coinneach M Quinlivan
Post by Coinneach M Quinlivan on Nov 5, 2018 21:05:19 GMT -5
Coinneach nodded to Creightons statement for there always being a use for a ship, further explaining what the likely fate of the Waif would be. A small shrug was all the more response to it becoming a sea worthy bomb that he had. It would be a fact he relayed back to the men that called the old boat home, and would be incentive for them to not let such an incident occur again. He could see the other man think about something and waited for the idea to surface. Coinneach never liked cutting in on other people when they were thinking and expected the same treatment in return. When the man began to speak, he listened intently to every word. There wasn't any intent other than not making Creighton repeat himself though, since a plan like this could go south quickly if someone were an idiot and thought to find personal gain from friends. Though his gaze wandered a few times through the other man's talk, his attention always returned quickly, nodding occasionally to show he was in fact listening. Once the talking was finished, Creighton and Coinneach both fell to thought for a moment.
A brig would be far better then the large ship that had been originally suggested. Less chance of being seen as a threat since the only real weapons on board besides the few cannons were what the men had brought aboard. Those were already under the scrutiny of the big finger since the weapon couldn’t be easily seen from an approaching ship. Coinneach frowned a moment as he thought about the four fingers. It was something that had been agreed upon by everyone to put into place shortly after the last thief master had taken the reins. Four others aside from the guild master that oversaw daily business and planning, and to keep the master in line with the goals of the guild as a whole. Pointer, Little, Big, and Skinny fingers alongside the thumb, or the guild master, made up the Hand. It was a bit tongue in cheek when it came to the names, but made talking business a lot easier in public places. Especially since the fingers tended to be in every pie.
The Big Finger, or the one that oversaw the trade end of the guild, would have to be in on the idea, and maybe the Little Finger since there would have to be more hands thrown onto the deck to completely man the new ship. Though, they were probably pretty keen on replacing the boat since it threatened trade and men with a possible breach in the hull. The mugs hitting the table cleared business away as Creighton thanked Del while Coinneach gave her a nod and thanks. Taking a good swig of his own drink, feeling it burn its way down and making him intensely aware of just how much he had imbibed. Creighton commented with a free drink tasting sweeter to which Coinneach had an equally teasing remark.
“Oi’ mean, in a way, it’s also free fer me.” Coinneach smirked as he tilted his head a bit. “Jus’ never moind’ the bit o’ ploddin’ ‘bout to get it.” A chuckle laced into the tone of the last bit. Creighton asked how he had been fairing, and reminded him of the standing offer. The thought of being on a boat, on the seam absolutely terrified him. Gingerly setting the mug down, he pushed the thought away and let his mind go over the past three months. Things hadn’t been bad. A few new deals had kept the fingers in their own pies while the guild coffer while slowly, was steadily growing. Granted it was about to take a hit from the expense of replacing a boat but that was an investment much more than an outright loss. No outrageous fights to sort out and other than one man, nobody else had stepped out of line that he had heard.
“Fair winds and full holds. Save for one gettin’ rowdy, things ‘ave been pretty smooth.” Coinneach replied while continuing to think about past events. “A few new hands ta’ trade with but nothin’ near as excitin’ as yer’ recent ventures. An’ believe me, Oi’ ‘aven’t forgot your offer.” Coinneach nodded to the man with a solemn tone at the end, picking up his mug and drinking half of what was left. “Oi’ll have to take you up on it sometime.” Coinneach coughed as the burn caught in the back of his throat for a moment, his eyes watering a little as he covered his mouth. After a few moments of hushed coughing, and another swig, Coinneach shook his head and looked to Creighton.
“Oi’ find it hard ta’ believe anyone would be dumb enough ta’ compete with you lot. Not to hard ta’ be rid of ‘em Oi’ suppose since there aren’t any new wounds about ya’, or at least none Oi’ can see.” That, and ya’ brought three ships back with ya’.” Coinneach took a congratulatory tone towards Creighton that was laced with laughter. “Go on an’ tell me about what ‘appened then!”