forum weathervane tyrant // oxo // closed

Started December 20, 2022 by @larcenistarsonist group

tune

In a world dominated by magic and mystery, a steel ship rules the choppy seas. From the forest Elven Kingdoms to the underground Dwarven Societies, the Angels' Sky Villages and the Dragonborn volcanic castles, all creatures know the Iron Zeppelin. The captain is one charismatic Svierk Greyy, a tiefling woman who has stolen something from every treasury and talked her way out of every jail cell. She commands a mighty crew, one that vows to finally possess the Weathervane Tablet, a rune-imbedded stone plate with the ability to change any temperature and turn every storm with a mere wish.

Every civilization is out for the bounty on Svierk's head; every inn is well-acquainted with her wanted paper face. It seems she can't be stopped.

So the Elven Kingdom of Iriadd hires a mercenary, someone to infiltrate the Iron Zeppelin and finally slaughter all of the damned pirates and end their tyranny on the sea for once and for all–but things quickly turn south when the mercenary is caught by the crew.

–

D&D-ish universe with pirates and a slowburn romance aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa

Someone needs to revoke my rp privileges I am abusing these.

Anyway, your character will be a hired mercenary that's told to infiltrate (via stowaway, force, being "kidnapped", being hired for cleaning work, etc.) the Iron Zeppelin. Along the way, your character begins (or not!) to realize that the crew members aren't half bad and Svierk isn't actually… as terrible as the folktales make her out to be. I don't know, I'm just craving something with pirates and magic and fantasy askdfj.

My rules are simple:

• Please, Experienced RPers only!! I may ask for a sample and I reserve the right to say no.
• There will be mature themes such as violence, death, and intense mental health issues. All sexual situations will be fade-to-black or entirely omitted.
• Be active!!! Posting every 1-2 days is perfect and just give me something to go off of!
• Don't be a dick, man.
• Please commit I am begging you, I really want this to be successful.

I'd rather go into this blind, without templates just for the fun of it. Svierk swings all ways, so the gender identity for your character won't be a problem.

Please ask questions if you need to!!! I'm happy to answer.

hmm this looks cool,, may i join?

Ooooohhh I've looked at your current rps and I'd be happy to have you!

Quick questions so I can begin to mentally craft a starter:

• How will your character infiltrate the Zeppelin? Stowaway, as a "worker", "kidnapped", brute force?
• Your character's race and do they present masc/fem/androgynous?
• Do you have any topics you'd like to avoid in this?? Any triggers?

hehe thank you!!

one quick question before i answer the first two–is there magic in this? it seems like there is from the summary and the fact it's dnd-ish but i wanna know for sure before i decide on my character! (either way i'll use a dnd idea that i haven't been able to use for dnd itself yet lol)

and i don't have any triggers! so we're good for that ^^

alfhksk nice

And Yes!!! There is magic!! Obviously nothing entirely godlike and OP, but yes there is still magic!

okay perf! sorry that took so long,, went to check smth and got three new dnd character ideas lmao

• as for how they infiltrate i was thinking posing as a worker, also perhaps offering to protect the ship with magic since my character is a warlock lol
• my character is a summer eladrin who presents fairly androgynous with chin-length reddish-blond hair, tan skin, amber eyes :)

swag!!!! thanks so much! I'll have a starter up here in uhhhh 45ish minutes? depends on how fast I get home and on my computer akjdk

alr sounds good! no rush :)

(just so you know, I don't expect this kind of length in return asldkfj I'm controlling six characters while you only have the one. Plus, starters always tend to run long)

"And how exactly are you sure this new recruit won't turn us into the Guard as soon as they get the chance?" Ever the absolute optimist, a short satyr named Billi grumbles from their usual perch atop of an old wine barrel. It doesn't hold much wine anymore, not since Esteban got his heart broken for the thousandth time and went to town on their alcohol reserves. "We're blindly taking on a new–"

"Lighten up, man!" A massive, pale green hand claps down on Billi's shoulder. "Why don't you, like, have a little faith?" The half-orc Gidror raises a black eyebrow, a tooth poking out of his lopsided smirk.

Billi sputters, throwing their hands up. "Can you blame me?" The barrel creaks as they hop off, their hooves hitting the planks of the Iron Zeppelin with a small click-thunk. "I'm just watching our heads."

"Our heads ain't goin' nowhere!" Gidror exclaims. "Ivanca found 'em herself."

If the new recruit doesn't kill Gidror, Billi just might–hell to what the Cap'n will have to say. Leave all the braincells to the five-foot satyr to collect. "Great. Trust the trigger-happy half-elf to choose who gets to join our crew." Billi presses their face into their hands. From beneath their crocheted cap, wiley brown hair coils around their tanned face.

The door to the undercabin opens and out comes–in all his flamboyant flashing colors–Esteban. "Well, just lob all the dirty work off to them, no?" He purrs, stretching his furred arms above his well-groomed and tufted ragdoll face. "It's been a while since the barnacles have been cleaned from the hull; I do believe dear Mazirax will roast us all if he has to do it again." Esteban adjusts his feathered hat and dusts his already spotless high-collared peacoat. "By the way–Gidror, did you and Ivanca even approve this new employee?" The enunciation on employee makes Gidror raise an eyebrow.

"No time!" a voice from above shouts. Captain Svierk Greyy slides down a rope, her tall buckled boots hitting the floor with a firm thunk. Beneath the tell-tale hat of a captain, her maroon hair lays in a loose braid down her back. Her lavender skin glitters in the afternoon sun, blood red eyes drifting across the faces of all her present crew. The only ones missing are Mazirax and Ivanca, at the helm and the galley respectively. She smiles, quite a devilish thing with her fanged canines and deep purple lips and tongue. "I believe our newest member is awaiting at the next dock." Svierk snaps her fingers and points up to the helm. "Is that right, Maz?!" She calls.

"Approaching now, Captain," comes Mazirax's smooth grumble.

God, how much longer was Finn going to be waiting? They sighed, checking their pocket-watch for the umpteenth time. This might make one think that Finn was the very punctual sort, which was not entirely accurate. They had gotten there early, due to a small mishap with the lodging they were staying in (that mishap being them almost setting fire to it). Finn wouldn't say they were a pyromaniac, but their curiosity had driven them to do far stranger things before. Transmutation was just the current item on a long list of their interests.

Speaking of interest, Finn was intrigued by the crew and captain of the ship they were about to embark on. They had heard a lot about the ship and her crew, both from rumors and those who had hired Finn themselves. So naturally when the opportunity presented itself, who was Finn to argue? They were the sort of person who was a freelance mercenary, taking whatever jobs looked plausible for them to accomplish and piqued their interest. They considered themself a free spirit, not usually taking jobs straight from the government themself, but this was too fascinating a prospect not to look into. Plus, it didn't hurt that the kingdom was paying Finn quite handsomely for this little endeavor. Okay, so maybe murder wasn't a "little endeavor," but if these pirates were really as bad as people claimed, Finn supposed they would be doing everyone a favor. And having the kingdom indebted to them didn't sound bad to Finn, either.

In fact, much of the reason that Finn had chosen this job was due to their patron. The mysterious fey loved to visit Finn in dreams and occasionally speak to them in the waking hours as well, though Finn was rarely able to speak with her. She was as elusive and confusing as a cat, but every time she had directed Finn to do something, they followed her lead. While she was likely serving her own ends, the relationship was often mutually beneficial, like all contracts should be. And this job was something she was oddly insistent on. Why, Finn had no clue, but the only way to uncover that mystery or reap the rewards was to take the job.

And now Finn was standing here, messing idly with a small hoop earring as they waited. They had three piercings on each ear, sharply pointed in the way of all elves, though their fine fey features marked Finn as an eladrin. That, and their obvious summer coloring, with their deep amber eyes, sun-tanned skin dusted with freckles, and red-blonde hair that was pulled into a half-ponytail. It was too short to really make a full ponytail with, anyway.

At last, a ship was approaching. This seemed to be the one, though Finn supposed they wouldn't know for sure until it was fully docked and they could see the crew. Then would be the introductions, which Finn was not looking forward to. Due to Finn's past–and present, really–with the fey, they never gave out their full name if they could help it, being quite careful with information. Information was power, after all, and Finn wasn't going to be starting on uneven ground for a mission surrounded by enemies.

(aklsdjf no worries)

Esteban chitters something in his tabaxi language and waves his paws through the air. What small shield they had shrouding the Zeppelin glimmers away, the spell smelling like soap and lemon. Gidror scrunches his nose and lumbers off, his massive heavy boots shaking the ground as he goes to join Mazirax at the helm. Billi visibly runs through a mental checklist of required procedures to dock. Captain Svierk keeps her eyes on the pier, noting the singular form standing at the edge of the wooden platform.

"Land ho," she whispers. The wind whips at her hat.

Smooth as always, Mazirax pulls the ship straight to the dock, far enough away to allow them a quick getaway, but still close enough so their gangplank can reach. Billi grumbles something about this being a bad idea. Svierk does nothing but grin. Bad ideas are her favorite ideas. "You know what to do if they give us trouble," Svierk orders softly to her first mate. Billi nods, a tired gleam in their caprine brown eyes. The gangplank is deployed; the ship is lightly tied down with cuttable ropes. Esteban stretches his hands once more above his head, already yawning and yearning for another nap in the sun.

The twin masses that are Gidror and Mazirax converse as quietly as they can at the helm. The mid-morning sun glints off their respective green skin and red-scaled bodies. Both of them towering at seven feet, it makes them more than intimidating. There's a reason Svierk hand-picked them for the muscle of the Iron Zeppelin. Ivanca emerges from the cabins, still clad in full silver armor with a pistol and sword strapped to her belt. She blinks at the newcomer, then over at Svierk. Even the twin masses halted their conversation to look to their captain.

"I'll go," Svierk says. "I'll speak to them down on the dock before clearing them for boarding." She points to Ivanca then Esteban. "On guard."

"As always," Esteban purrs. Ivanca blinks, eyes wide and blank. Svierk knows her crew well enough to know they understand her. "Good luck, Cap'n."

Svierk smiles. She's stolen enough good luck to last her a lifetime. Without another word, the captain turns on her heel and descends the gangplank. There're two scabbards at her sides, a cutless in each of them. Rings on each of her fingers glint as she moves, the gems of them swirling with unknown power.

"Ahoy there," she greets. "You must be the new recruit, yes?" With a mental cast, her rings buzz on her fingers. She extends her hand for a shake. "Captain Svierk Greyy, Commander of the Iron Zeppelin. You are?"

Finn watched as the ship docked, the crew members scurrying around like mice to. They were a bit fascinated by the display. Some of the crew looked quite intimidating, but Finn was sure this wasn't a challenge that they couldn't handle. They would just have to play nice first until they gained the trust–or at least shook off the guarded suspicion–of the crew. Why they were all willing to let some stranger aboard without a full rundown, Finn wasn't sure. Unless of course this woman in front of them was the rundown. They supposed they would just have to see.

The captain was pretty, in a fierce sort of way, and armed to the teeth with weapons and magical artifacts. Just as Finn would have expected from an infamous pirate captain. She was, however, friendlier than Finn had anticipated. Of course at the greeting, Finn already knew they would not be revealing their whole name. Surname, sure, but nobody had referred to them as Thorfinn in a long time, and Finn wasn't about to let them start now. Not to mention spending time with fey had strongly turned Finn off against any sort of full introduction, lest they be turned into an eternal servant for some greater fey. Pass. They already had their patron, and that was plenty for them to deal with.

Finn gave Svierk the once over before extending a hand in return and shaking. "That I am," they confirmed with the slightest smile playing at their lips. The only weapon Finn had on them was the dagger at their hip, and other than that they looked deceptively unarmed. Of course, Finn was sure that Svierk knew of their magic, as they had offered it as part of their help for the ship. After all, what would fearsome pirates want with someone who could only do one thing? Cleaning was just another service that Finn had offered. Cooking, too. Really whatever came in handy, though they had done their best not to appear overeager, despite their intrigue and ulterior motives. They were quite intrigued now as well. "Finn Aelius, at your service."

As they shake hands, a brief detect magic spell swells into Finn's body. Svierk narrows her eyes briefly as she gauges exactly how dangerous Finn's magic could prove, the sly smirk never leaving her face. The spell fades from her mind as she looks the newcomer up and down. With her knuckle, she tips the brim of her hat back. "Welcome aboard, Finn. I trust you're well-acquainted with the tales of the Iron Zeppelin?"

The question is nearly rhetorical. What living creature on the continent hadn't heard of the Zeppelin? The vessel that accompanies the ruthless plunderers on every mission. Made of entirely iron, it was a wonder how it stayed afloat. Svierk obviously knows the answer. It comes in a furry, fine-silked sorcerer package. She taps her foot twice on the docks. The signal reaches the awaiting Ivanca on the deck.

"How can you prove a trustworthy member?" Her voice dropping, Svierk's scarlet eyes flare. From the Zeppelin, Ivanca points a silver crossbow to Finn's heart. "What will make you worthy of boarding my ship?"

Finn smirked at the captain's question, not answering because they both knew it was obvious Finn had heard many a tale of the ship, which was just as infamous as the captain who piloted it. They glanced up as Svierk tapped the signal, glancing towards the crew member on the ship who was holding the crossbow at them. Goody. Finn should have known something like this would happen. Most likely it was a bluff, but it was possible that woman really did intend to shoot them. Well, perhaps if that happened, their patron could heal the wound. Or, more likely, grant them a cat-like grace that enabled them to dodge the first shot. Their patron wasn't particularly benevolent, but she did protect her assets. After that first shot, though, Finn figured it would be up to them. Their patron was pretty powerful; Finn was not the type to choose a weak archfey as a patron. They had done their studying, learned before choosing and now their power was their reward. Of course, in order to reach more rewards, they had to navigate through this situation first. How inconvenient.

"I offered to lend you my magic and cooking skills, did I not? That's what I intend to do," Finn answered calmly, almost cavalierly. Their ease did not match the situation, betraying only the barest hint of nerves. But Finn was not very nervous at all, even though in the back of their mind they realized they probably ought to be. "Besides, if you and your crew are as tough as they say, shouldn't you be able to take care of me should I prove untrustworthy? In an actual fight, I mean, not shooting me from afar like I'm some sort of wild beast." They stuck their hands in the pockets of their loose-fitting pants, waiting for an answer from the captain.

(alksdjf I'm so sorry it's been four days! Christmas happened)

The other's answer makes her smirk, but it quickly dies away with the rest of her friendly demeanor. "I'm not asking for your skills, Finn," Svierk says slowly. "I'm asking about your worth." Aboard the ship, Ivanca doesn't waver with her aim. She's never missed a shot, not one that's ever mattered. Esteban joins her at the rail, mewing something quietly to his half-elven friend. His furred and clawed fingers twist through the air, and the dock beneath them shudders. Svierk doesn't need to look back to know Billi is raising their hulusi to their lips.

Oh, trust me, she muses internally. I know my crew could kill you before you can even retaliate with the magic of your patron. Truth be told, Svierk has never trusted a warlock. Anybody who has powers gifted to them also has strings attached. The crew of the Iron Zeppelin can't afford to have members with loyalties to anyone other than the Captain and to the ship.

"Everybody on my crew wants something. Everybody on my crew brings something to the table that nobody else could bring." Svierk punctuates her words softly but surly, swaying her diction and tone. "You may have skills, but what sort of drive could you possibly bring to the Zeppelin? We don't care much for dead weight. Are you sure you could carry yourself in times of crisis?"

(no worries! i've been kinda spotty due to the holidays as well ^^)

Finn's drive, huh? Now that was an excellent question, just the sort of thing Finn should have anticipated from a renowned pirate. Of course, carrying themself in times of crisis was a no-brainer. Finn would probably be dead by now if they didn't have that particular skill. Mercenaries who couldn't hold their own in high-stakes situations didn't last very long, after all. Now Finn's teamwork skills was another question entirely, but they wouldn't admit that. It had been too long since Finn had worked with other people. It was usually just them and their patron, both with their own agenda, but both counting on the other to help them fulfill it.

Finn raised an eyebrow as they studied Svierk's face. She was clearly competent, they had to give her that much. A woman who knew what she was doing was dangerous, but not something Finn hadn't faced before. Of course, the loyal crew at her beck and call did complicate things. As Svierk was speaking, Finn was already thinking of their next answer. They were talking not long after she had stopped, mind still whirring but not wanting to leave a pause, lest they seem unmotivated.

"Of course everyone wants something," they said with a slight chuckle. "If you don't think everyone has their own agendas, you would be a fool. But you want a specific kind of fire, I suppose? Well, I can give you the abridged version then. I've been a mercenary for a few years now, and you pick things up on the job. I've been hearing about your little ship for quite some time, and let me say that it is entirely more fascinating than any job I've ever gotten being a mercenary. I was determined to know more about it, but it didn't take me long to realize that no one had the information I'd been looking for. Since you know I'm a warlock, you must know that I value knowledge quite highly. When no one could tell me the reality of it, I was determined to find out for myself. Everything that I've learned just makes me want to join your crew more. How do you do it? Become so infamous and do so many things with such a small crew. I want to join your crew so I can experience it and figure out your secret, your drive. And I won't just abandon your crew because it's too enticing to consider leaving, even after I figure out just how you manage to accomplish so much. Why would I leave the most fascinating folk tale I've ever heard?

As for dead weight, I am no such thing. Being a mercenary has taught me a lot about keeping a level head in crisis situations. I could prove a valuable addition to your team because of my magic and knowledge, as well my charm." Here Finn gave a playful wink, jokingly accentuating their point. Someone without keen observation skills may think that Finn was taking this entirely too lightly, but if one were sharp they might notice the passion behind the statements. Finn really did want this. Though not entirely for the reasons they'd stated, but that was something Finn hid well. They were used to hiding things with their job and all, but the fact that what they were saying was also technically the truth did make them more convincing. "At any rate, keep asking me your questions. I can answer them all, because believe it or not, I do want this job." They flashed a smile after that, crossing their arms and awaiting whatever Svierk had to say next.

Svierk listens with a close-lipped smirk and a dark look in her eyes. Her gloved fingers itch to unsheathe her cutlass, to point it beneath the newcomer's chin and watch their eyes shine with brief panic. The captain urges to start a fight. It's been far too long since she's had the pleasure of an even match. Regardless of what her own impulses desire, Svierk doesn't exactly buy what the person across from her is saying. Both a warlock and a mercenary. Hell, the two jobs most notorious for shaky and fickle loyalties. Either Finn already has a vendetta, they'll develop one, or they'll leave the Iron Zeppelin as soon as the opportunity is provided.

As they speak, Svierk taps her fingers against the leather of her long coat. If knowledge is what they're after, Finn will be dangerous. They're far from the first to long for such rewards, but nobody's come close. The secrets of the Zeppelin are locked between the Captain, the Coxswain, and the Sorcerer. Not even Svierk's first-mate knows the entirety of the ins-and-outs. Svierk swore she made a point with the last execution that she would tolerate no sort of mission to uncover the ways of the vessel, but she supposes those gruesome stories can't quite reach everyone in the continent.

"Alright," she says after a moment of silence. Running her forked tongue over her fanged teeth, Svierk stands up straighter. By no means can she be considered tall, but size is far from everything in a fight. She's faster than most, aerodynamic as Gidror had described her once. "I understand where you're coming from, Finn. Knowledge is a noble pursuit, but you should know that not even my own crewmates know all my secrets, nor the full story of the ship." Her boot taps twice against the deck; Esteban grins. With a soft clap of his paws, an echoing BANG thunders through the dock. Despite the noise, Ivanca lowers her crossbow in time with Billi's own hulusi. From the raised helm, Gidror folds his beefy green arms over his chest. Mazirax drums his talons along the wheel, itching to finally get back on the move again.

Whoever this warlock is, Svierk is too curious to see what they have to offer. If they show signs of trouble, she'll just have to kill them. Simple.

"Consider the next week your trial run," Svierk says offhandedly as she turns on her heel towards the gangplank. Her maroon braid swings around her shoulder. "If you don't live up to my expectations, just know you will be thrown into a sack, burdened with lead weights, and thrown overboard." She glances over her shoulder, a silent sign for the newcomer to follow. "It's nothing I'm not accustomed to."

Finn sensed that Svierk didn't entirely buy what they were saying, but that would not deter them. They were nothing if not crafty, as was their patron, and knew that since she had also wanted them to take this job, she may be able to help them out in a pinch. However, Finn couldn't help but feel a sense of accomplishment when the gangplank was lowered and Svierk let them know that they were hired. Well, sort of. Finn was going to do everything in their power to make themself as irreplaceable as possible in the first weeks while they formulated a plan.

As much as it disappointed them, Finn could not say that they were surprised by the fact that Svierk kept the most important knowledge close. She was a notorious pirate captain, after all, and those sort of people weren't particularly known to be forthcoming. Finn would just have to give it time–and possibly some snooping later on–but they were patient. They didn't mind waiting when they knew the rewards were high.

When Svierk mentioned the sack bit, Finn tried not to grin. They had gotten out of tough situations before, though that was a difficult one. Still, they would do their best to avoid that particular fate. Finn had a real problem with seeing extremely life-threatening situations as puzzles to solve, and they quite enjoyed solving difficult puzzles. It may be true that they were just a little bit crazy, at least according to several people that they'd worked with. Mere words had never stopped Finn before, and they wouldn't now. No one came between Finn and the knowledge that they sought.

Finn followed the captain, movements languid and graceful. Part of the reason that their patron had liked them in the first place–besides their unrelenting desire for knowledge–was their natural grace. "I'm sure," they agreed breezily. "Someone as notorious as yourself could hardly let incompetency or traitorous behavior slide."

Svierk hums softly at the warlock's words, taking a moment to sweep her eyes over each of the present crew members before finally looking back to the newcomer. "Flattery won't get you anywhere. I know my power, I don't need people to fawn over it."

Esteban smirks, watching Finn with slitted eyes as they board the ship. Gidror single-handedly raises the gangplank and secures the small door. Without another second wasted, the dragonborn coxswain at the helm maneuvers the ship away from the isolated dock. Svierk takes a moment to breathe, the sea air and steady rocking of the swiftly moving vessel helping her organize her thoughts and cool her head. Not that she actually had a muddled head–the ocean just helps to keep it working smoothly. Oil for the cogs of her ever-turning mind.

"Finn." She snaps her fingers and points to the warlock. "Meet the crew." She then takes her hands to gesture to the other members. "Gidror is the half-orc there. He's the muscle of the group." Gidror waves, eyebrows furrowing over his eyes as his lips stretch out into a pointed-toothed smile. "Mazirax is at the helm. Billi is the satyr here, my first-mate." Billi sighs as if they had just been burdened with a thousand problems, which probably isn't too far off target. After all, Billi's often considered the most rational of them all, even making better decisions than ever level-headed Mazirax.

"The last two are Esteban and Ivanca." Svierk doesn't elaborate on their roles. She figures it'll be explanatory soon enough. Esteban will get showy after he gets a drink in him; it's hard not to tell what Ivanca specializes in when she's covered head-to-toe in knives and crossbows. "Any immediate questions before we send you to work?" The Captain raises an eyebrow as she debates where to first send the warlock. Barnacle scraping off the side of the ship, mopping, dish duty, repairing their heaps and heaps of torn sails.

Finn gave a short nod to the crew members who made eye contact, studying each person as they were mentioned. Interesting. None of them seemed particularly welcoming, but again, they were a band of pirates, so Finn couldn't exactly say they were surprised. The crew did look fairly tough, which again was unsurprising. Once Finn was asked if they had any questions, naturally any questions Finn might have had left their mind. They could probably ask about fifty different things, though Finn doubted most of those would be answered. They didn't have to guess how much Svierk distrusted them from the look on her face and her spiel about the sack. They thought for a moment to see if they had a burning desire to know something more relevant to their work onboard the ship that had a chance of being answered. Perhaps they could cleverly disguise a real curiosity as an innocent question, though they didn't fancy pushing Svierk right after being allowed on board. They were curious, but they weren't a total idiot.

After a few moments of this internal debate, Finn shrugged. "Nothing in particular comes to mind," they responded. They figured that whatever work they were going to be sent to do would be a mindless, repetitive sort of task that no one else wanted to do, seeing as they were the newcomer, and they could think while they worked. They actually didn't mind the sort of repetitive work of smaller tasks; it was something for their hands to do while they could think and plan and scheme. And Finn loved their scheming.

Billi grumbles something to themselves at Finn's short response. They shake their head before trotting off below deck, bound to labor over some maps and compasses for the next few hours. Svierk watches her first-mate go before turning her attention back to the newcomer. Something wasn't right. Something wasn't quite clicking with the warlock. Despite her growing frustrations, Svierk bites the inside of her cheek and snaps to Gidror.

"Gidror, please show Finn here down to the hold. I think they'll be best reorganizing the materials down there." A short smile flashes across her face before she begins to make her way to the helm. The task had been one they had all been dreading. After a particularly rough day at sea (preceded by being chased by exactly four different kingdom's navies), everything below deck had been violently thrown off their shelves. Chests were open, rations were splattered across the floor, things had been broken and squished and snapped–it would be no easy task. Not quite as mindless as the warlock might be anticipating.

The half-orc grunts, more of a bull-like snort than anything, and grins. Each one of his teeth are sharpened points. Svierk had found him tearing into a cattle carcass on the beach years and years ago. Ever since, he'd always had his fair share of meat and an unwavering loyalty to the captain. "Aye, aye, sir," he offers a brief salute to Svierk before clapping a large hand onto Finn's shoulder. His sharpened nails slowly dig into the fabric of their tunic. "Follow me, kid. I'll show you around."

Yeesh, that guy needed some nail clippers. Finn winced as they felt the press of the half-orc's nails into their shoulder. They really hoped that this wouldn't ruin their tunic, as they quite liked this one. It was just the right hue to compliment their summer coloring and tanned skin, which was pretty invaluable in Finn's personal opinion. Plus the length was good, a bit long but not too long to the point it looked like a dress, and loose enough to move freely in. They also didn't appreciate the half-orc calling them "kid," because sure they were young enough, but they were no child. A flash of irritation moved across their features for a moment before they gave in. Ah well, Finn would just have to put up with this treatment for a bit before they could execute their plan. It was all part of the process, they supposed.

"Have you ever considered trimming your nails?" Finn asked pleasantly, trying to ignore the half-orc's nails biting into their shoulder. "I hear it's all the rage nowadays." 'And you seriously need it,' they added mentally. Sure, Gidror could be filing his nails to be sharp for combat purposes, but hells it was uncomfortable in social situations. Finn supposed they couldn't judge someone for honing their physical body for fighting in lieu of magic abilities, but in their current situation they weren't exactly loving Gidror's choice.

"Have you ever considered shutting your damn mouth?" Gidror responds in an equally pleasant tone. The dopey smile from his face drops like a lead coin in the sea. "Let me give you a piece of advice, mate." His voice grows lower as Gidror steers the newcomer into a cabin, then towards an awfully foreboding door leading to a rickety staircase that disappears downward into shadow. "Don't offer a critique unless someone asks for it. It's a good way to get you killed here." His breath is hot as he grumbles into the warlock's ear. "I can smell magic on you, but that don't mean I'm scared of you in anyway."

Gidror squeezes, just a little tighter, and successfully breaks the threads on the warlock's tunic. Finally below deck and likely below the waterline, Gidror releases the newcomer and gestures to the surrounding area. He lights a small oil lamp that hardly provides any visuals. Well, Gidror could easily increase the intensity of the flame, but frankly, he doesn't feel like it.

Surrounding the area and coating the floor is a mixture of shattered glass and miscellaneous supplies. Boxes lay upside down and downside up and sideways and one is somehow on the ceiling. Gidror points to the box dangling from the dislodged ceiling tile. "Organize this dump. You have until dinner, otherwise you don't get any." And with a smirk and purposeful tap of his talons, Gidror turns and slams the door to the storage room behind him, effectively locking the newcomer inside until he unlocks the door from the outside.

"Gee, thanks," Finn muttered as the door was shut. They brushed their hand over their tunic, scrunching their face in annoyance. Well, that was just great. Their sewing skills were barely passable at best, so it seemed that the cold shoulder fashion statement was going to have be in this season. Honestly, this hadn't been the first time someone had told them to shut their mouth. It had gotten them into a lot of trouble before. Despite Finn's natural smarts and the knowledge they'd gained over the years, the one thing they had never quite mastered was being quiet when they needed to be. They had opinions, and they were going to share them. Besides, usually things tended to work out for Finn, one way or the other, even if the way things worked out involved a lot of dangerous and less than ideal situations. Finn suspected it might be due to their patron, whose luck had seemed to transfer to Finn once they bonded. Of course, it could just be their superstitious nature instead.

At any rate, Finn did not like Gidror at all. There was nothing about him that interested them. Sure, he seemed quite strong, Finn would have to give him that. But he seemed to be bad-tempered–Finn really shouldn't judge him for that, considering their own temperament, but alas–and his breath didn't exactly smell like roses. But still, Finn had dealt with worse, so that was fine. This task, however, was another matter entirely.

If anyone else had been in the room, Finn would have called it a breeze and begun working immediately, not to be outdone by the lack of decent cleaning around here, but as it was, they just groaned at the mess. Finn hated missing meals, so they decided that they would have to figure out a plan to tackle this dump. Stupid pirates, they thought in annoyance, squinting in the dim light. Their big mouth hadn't done them any favors, but honestly, Finn kind of doubted that Gidror would have been nicer no matter what they said. If they'd complimented the half orc, it would look like sucking up, and trying to make conversation would make Finn seem too eager to please as well. Silence was probably the best answer to that, but Finn wasn't about to hide their personality. Someone too obedient on a pirate ship had to look suspicious.

They grabbed an old-looking, beat up broom from among the wreckage and begin to sweep up the glass and other unsalvageable bits from the floor first, working at that until the floor was more or less clean. Everything that seemed like it could still be used had been set to the side as much as was possible, being shifted around as Finn worked on the different parts of the floor. Finn hummed to themself as they worked, a jaunty tune that they had picked up from a bard a long time ago, determined not to let the less than hospitable attitude of the pirates get the best of them. They would get what was coming to them eventually, after all. If they treated Finn badly, well, that would just make the end result much more satisfying. Still, managing to kill all of these little shits would not be an easy task by any means, so Finn would have to pay close attention to the patterns of these people, including sleeping, eating, and whatnot. Perhaps they had weaknesses in their relationships with one another, things that were subtle, but could be exploited.

Finn nearly tripped over a box on the floor as they thought, and cursed. This task was taking more concentration than they had originally bargained on it taking. That was irritating. They kept working at it, not going to let this stupid dump of a room get the best of them. This wasn't the first time Finn had to clean up an awful mess, though Finn had to admit it was like a hurricane hit this room, which did not make this light work. In fact, by the time they had moved on to the box on the ceiling, they had a thin sheen of sweat on their forehead. Ugh. How much longer would this shit take?! In frustration, they almost kicked a nearby box, but stopped themself. No. This task may be unreasonably grueling, but they had a mission to fulfill, and Finn always fulfilled their missions.

After what felt like forever, Finn was nearly done with the organizing. Their eyes hurt from the low light, and they were getting exhausted, but they were close. A headache bloomed in their temple. As they finally finished cleaning, they sagged against the wall, spent. All hells, that was intense. But Finn couldn't help a small smirk. Wait until that bastard came in and saw Finn had done it. Sure, they looked a little pathetic right now, but they had finished cleaning the damn room, and they were a bit smug about it. They would straighten once someone entered, which should be soon, right? Unless the crew had assumed Finn couldn't do it and eaten dinner without them, in which case the warlock would be more than a little angry, but they would just have to deal with it. Remember, they reminded themself. The worse they treat you now, the more satisfying their deaths will be.