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Author Topic: Role Call!  (Read 1511 times)

Iarmiron

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Role Call!
« on: October 06, 2015, 02:12:17 AM »
It had been three years since he had last seen her: Barabal. It was back when the mutiny on her father's ship went down, along with the ship itself. He was Weapon's Master then while she had been Quartermaster. And while he didn't think a woman's place was on a ship, the five years he had served on Andaluz made him realize that she belonged on a ship as much as he did. And he had come to respect and like her. Plus, she was a pretty thing, a pretty thing that could gut him if he so much as looked at her wrong.

But after three years of doing odd jobs, mostly fishing in small bays and inlets and selling his fish in the market. Yet despite being on the water, he wanted, no needed to be out in the open water and be a pirate in all honesty. He enjoyed the honest work as a fisher but he enjoyed being a pirate far more. And he knew deep down that Barabal would be putting together a ship and that he would be one of the first to join her crew, the only Captain he really felt he could sail under.

So when his connections told him that she was looking for a new crew for an old ship, he had made sure that he was there when she chose them. He was not far when he heard the news and so made his way to the dock, looking over first the ship and then those gathered, the former in approval and the latter in ambivalence as he stood to the side. He leaned against a barrel, posture seemed to be relaxed but his gaze was calculating, sizing up possible crew members.

He had no doubt that she would hire them. They had history and he hoped she knew that he was dependable member of a crew. He had stuck with her during the mutiny after all. And someone who you had sailed with and was fairly friendly with was a definite plus. He glanced up when she came towards her, an easy smile on his lips at her, though he gave a warning growl when there were whispers of discontent and disbelief at seeing their future captain was a female. ”She is worth more than any o' your lot's salt. So shut yer mouth lest ye want me sword in your gullet.”

Barabal

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Re: Role Call!
« Reply #1 on: October 08, 2015, 05:30:41 AM »
Three years, had it really been barely that? It felt much longer at times. Three years felt like a breath - a blink of an eye - before the Andaluz had been swallowed by the waters. Three years since the life of her father, a Numeroan still with many years left, had been cut drastically short.

Just three years.

There was much that had happened to the Black Numeroan ever since the Andaluz’s last journey. She had grown. No longer was she blinded by the spirit of youthful fancy or adventure, reality had sunk in. Trust was something she could not spare with another, she had learned this lesson well, and thought of abandoning the sea altogether. Except it often called her back. It still drew her to its shores - the waves singing gently to the pirate’s heart. She ignored the calls as best she could, Barabal swore; but there was little life left for her in land. No family to return to, no name to hind behind, nothing to earn her coin save if she were to lift up her skirts.

The life she had known, the liberties cherished, prevented her from settling into something she could not call her own. She caved under the sea’s pressure not long after that. She sailed to Pelargir, the ruse of bringing wares from Umbar promise enough to dissuade too many questions during her voyage. There, Barabal would begin to rebuild what her father had lost. The coin her and Nader had garnered was put together for a ship - a small thing built for speed, an interceptor. The needed crew would be small in numbers, but there is where the woman could choose for better quality of sailors. The Staunch Harlot, the Harlot, was coming to life.

She sent word to careful circles in hopes of reaching familiar names. But as the months went and no word returned, the woman began to give up hope. Three years had come, three years had gone, and the ebony wood of the Harlot now kissed the sea. A prouder sight she never had seen. With its christening so too arrived pockets of sailors, small in numbers - pitiful, really - but they were better than none. Meeting the Captain, a woman that often times appeared half their age, dissuaded many from staying. And those that did, well, they left much to be desired.

Much more. They were an easy group to spot all in all - too young, too old. But still there. As she neared them, it seemed the confusion, more akin to displeasure, was reflected by them as well. No sooner had the woman’s sauntering steps been heard, that the whispers come. It wasn’t hard for the woman to know what they spoke of, the quiet voices, the sharp eyes, the sneers that pulled their lips all too familiar. What did strike her, however, was the voice that silenced them as she grew near - a familiar tone she had come to know  over the years. The man that owned it still proved to be one and the same, causing Barabal to click her tongue in mild amusement. “Wor’ more salt and aged longer too ‘an any of ‘is lot, I’d wager.” The captain mused, arms folded neatly behind her back. Barabal eyed the man, amusement curling the corner of her lips. “See you ‘aven’t changed much, ‘ree years ‘ave been kinder to ye ‘an me, it seems.” She offered, “Can’t believe yer out ‘ere with ‘ese louts, Iarmiron.”

Saying the name felt strange even then, she noted. Not in her wildest dreams had she expected anyone to answer the call.
« Last Edit: October 08, 2015, 05:31:09 AM by Barabal »

Iarmiron

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Re: Role Call!
« Reply #2 on: October 11, 2015, 08:32:04 PM »
It did not take long for Barabal to recognize him, though he hadn't changed much since they had last set their eyes on each other. She did seem amused by his words of her being worth more salt than any of those gathered and he snorted at her words about her being aged more than them. To those that didn't know better, she looked little past her 30s, while she was actually a bit older. He too was a bit older than he looked. It was his Black Numenorean blood that flowed through his veins, though hers was far stronger. ”Aye, but still well preserved, Cap'n.” He couldn't help the appreciative glance he gave her as he said that.

She mentioned that he hadn't changed much in the three years since she had last seen him and he gave a shrug. ”Don' think a man or woman changes much in those short years, lest somethin' awful 'appens to 'em.” Her words about him aging better than her were met with a wry grin. ”If ye look that good an' I'm better, then I am a very lucky man indeed.” Was he flirting with her? Perhaps but she knew him well enough that she hopefully wouldn't be too offended and stick a sword in his gullet...

Barabal then said she didn't think he'd be with the rest of them and he gave another shrug. ”Was itchin' to be sailin' again and couldn' think of a better person to sail under than ye.” He gave a sly glance at his fellows. ””Sides, someone needs to teach these land-lubbers the ropes of bein' part of a ship's crew.”

Barabal

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Re: Role Call!
« Reply #3 on: October 20, 2015, 03:37:42 AM »
Time had such a funny way of changing people - transforming them into someone they no longer knew. Three years had been a blink of an eye for their very essence, for their blood, but it felt much longer for the captain. Three years without the sea, without a crew to command, without herself. Yes, she had been without herself for three years that even now it felt odd - like gaining an appendage that she had lost. Nevertheless, seeing familiar faces aided the transition, and Iarmiron was one of them. The man was still as cheeky as she remembered and his regards of her proved it further. Raising her brows accusingly, Barabal couldn’t help but give a chuckle, hand propped against her hip. “Easy now, Iar,” she warned in her same, easy tone. Not quite accusing, not quite playful, but tittering between the two, “…you might give this lot the wron’ idea.” She chuckled, nodding to the side. Keep prying ears away from conversations they should otherwise ignore. None of their bloody business, she’d say.

”Don' think a man or woman changes much in those short years, lest somethin' awful 'appens to ‘em.” He said and Barabal’s features tightened considerably. He was right, the woman knew, but things had happened, just not in that short time frame. Barabal scoffed, waving either thought away. What good did it do to linger in the past. What was done, was done and nothing either of them could  do would change it. The Andaluz had sunk and lives had been lost. What they had now was an opportunity - a new life. “You are a flatterer, Iar, though shoul’ know by now that gets you nowhere with me.” She snickered and winked.

But her attention on the man was short, soon turning to the lot that had gathered across the piers. Barabal glanced briefly back to the men both tall and short, eyes trailing across them lazily, “Aye. ‘At we do.” They were far from the crew she had worked with before. Capable, perhaps, but far from ideal. Still the woman would readily welcome any under her command. There would not be many that would find themselves ordered by a woman, even less on board a ship. Bad luck, they called it, but she could no longer agree. She had lived far to long for that to have become ridiculous, even implausible.  ”But, as all, they will learn.” Sink or swim, she’d always say, or if not there were only a port away for them to be dropped off. Find their way home another way.

Iarmiron

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Re: Role Call!
« Reply #4 on: October 21, 2015, 05:27:23 AM »
It would seem that Barabal noticed his appreciative glance and yet she didn't seem completely mad at him for it. There was a little bit of being upset with him but he couldn't tell if it was because he was flirting with her or because of where he was doing it. He figured it might be a mix of both but she was also amused by it so maybe it wasn't that bad and more simply the wrong time for him to do so. He simply gave her a charming, yet slightly crooked, smile at her words about giving the others gathered the worng idea. ”Tha' yer somethin' other than the cruelest, hardest, most demandin' cap'n that ever sailed the seas?”

He immediately regretted his words about people not changing much in only three years when she hardened slightly. Someone who had never been around her before might not notice it but he could see and briefly flinched, almost as if she had struck him for say such things. Perhaps he should have thought that through a bit better when he first decided to say it since she had lost her ship and her father. Oops. But she seemed disinclined to say anything about it and so he was more than willing to let it go if she was. She went on to say that he was the flatterer but that he should remember that it got him nowhere with her. ”Only wi' ye, Cap'n. 'Sides, ye can' blame a man fer tryin'.” Her wink told him that she wasn't terribly upset with him.

Barabal agreed with his assessment of someone needing to teach the group gathered how to be crew on a ship, especially a pirate crew. They weren't quite the crew they had on the Anduluz but he was aware that she couldn't be picky about who she let onboard. ”And if they don', we can throw 'em overboard to feed the sharks?” He had this odd glint in his eyes that meant he was joking but otherwise he seemed perfectly serious.

Barabal

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Re: Role Call!
« Reply #5 on: February 12, 2016, 07:15:32 PM »
It was true that there was no ire behind the captain’s reprimand at the weapons master’s indiscretions; there had been far worse things mentioned – and perhaps even worse seen – by the woman at a time. Things that one would have brought a flush of color unto her cheeks, now were underserving of a second thought. Nonetheless it was amusing to an extent, if only in its bravado and who had been the one to do it. Had it not been Iarmiron, a comrade who had seen the best and the worst that the Andaluz had to offer, they would have sooner would themselves acquainted with the butt of her sword than in the woman’s quarters. A far kinder warning than anything they could expect after that.

Cruel and demanding he called her, and at that the umbaran couldn’t help the simper that pulled at the edge of her lip. She was both of those things and perhaps many more, all of which she would gladly admit. What else, pray tell, could be expected from a captain of a pirate ship? She stepped back, much more at ease than she had previously been, but ever a presence. With arms folded upon one another, fingers flared, she shrugged at his suggestion. “On ‘at we can agree. But cruel only if ever I’m crossed.” Barabal hummed, voice rumbling within her throat, “As it ‘as been, you work under me, you know your duties. And you know ‘em well.” Dark eyes fall away from away from the man, turning her head to look at those that remained on the dock.

The voice grew louder, if only just, “I care little for ‘ose ‘at dick about nor will I tolerate ‘em on ‘e Harlot.” Barabal said, head dipping to her right, “’Ose ‘at do will do well at learnin’ to swim.” It was simple as that. If the sharks didn’t get them, the sea would gladly take them in their stead. The woman looked back at Iarmiron, her dark eyes now on his, brows raised in askance. “’Is goes for everyone. Are we clear?”

 


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