The liveliest bar in Gun Lagh was rowdy tonight, just like all nights, but this time a little different. Ric, a young woman with a ukulele in hand, holding it by the neck, sort of like a sword held wrong, sat at the bar with three pirates, giving them a comforting talk about their worries. Two of the burly pirates had started sobbing half way through while the other stared attentively.
"There's my favourite regular!" Baderon, the owner and bartender of the Drowning Wench raises his arms, a pint in hand and wiping cloth in the other.
Around 20 men all heavily guised with cloth, cloak, and covers, entered the tavern and scatter into groups completely filling whatever tables they can. One in particular wearing a mask walks up to the bar and heartily greets Baderon. Ric sat with her instrument in hand, deep in conversation, one of the two crying pirates had calmed down and the burly one was still sobbing. While Baderon and the man that came in caught up with eachother, Baderon called for Ric.
"Meet my new ward!" Baderon beckons for the small woman wearing the pale green linen dress-shirt paired with creme coloured slacks and leather knee patches.
As Ric scurries over, she greets the two men, introducing herself to the new face of sorts as he still has the mask on, so it'd hardly be valid to call them a new face.
"Hello there! Welcome to the tavern! How are you? Who are you? could I get you anything?" Ric readies herself to hop behind the bar, which she, prior to giving therapy to three pirates, was kicked out of. Ric is not supposed to be behind the bar, but instead infront of it, playing her ukulele and entertaining the customers.
"I- huh? Baderon, my friend, how does she not know who I am?" The new man is baffled by Ric's unawareness. You couldn't see it through his mask but it was a given he had his brows, if he had any, furrowed in utter confusion.
"Ah," He stared at her, a double take just to check with himself if he was sure, "Like I said, she's new here. And you haven't been here in a month." Baderon explains, cleaning the beer mugs at the bar.
The men he came in with had settled and been served a variety of alcoholic beverages, the place had gotten rowdier than Ric could ever recall, and it was a sight to see. There were visible light weights that could be singled out, and others that were hitting shots like breathing air.
"I see, I see, but still-" The masked man stares at Baderon before turning to Ric, "I'm Roberts..." He introduces himself further, explaining why he came to Gun Lagh and that he arrived from a different country but Ric zones out and butts in.
"Hang on, hang on, wait, Roberts? Robert, with an s? Were your parents aware they named you Robert with an s? Why with an s?" Ric, confused and not currently all that smart, she ponders on whether when referred to, he's called Roberts, Roberts' or Robertses.
"Roberts. I'm sure they're aware-" The strange man clarifies with certainty.
"What are you here for?" She cuts him off, querying their visit.
"My men and I are here for a good time." He decides to answer short and simple, still cheery.
"Oh! I could definitely help with that!" She leaves the two men and walks off to the middle of the tavern with her ukulele, starting strong and fast, pacing well with her song, bringing more life to the place.
Roberts was left stunned for a split second by the abruptness of the lass but the cheeriness she gave off was infective, so he wasn't bothered that much. He resumed his prior conversation with Baderon and the two men talked in light tones. As the place lights up with the talk and merry souls, laughs are heard around the tavern, the men and women are drinking, playing random games and like darts but with daggers instead, even the two who were crying are now feeling better. Though a small group of men had started getting a little too aggressive and had been forced out of the bar by Baderon.
"So, Baderon," Roberts lowers his tone, making the conversation secretive, "I'm looking for something. A staff of— sorts, had been stolen. Owned by the church. Someone by the name of Franklin got his hands on it but I'm guessing it's alias." Parts of the conversation were sounded out by the liveliness, but some could be heard. "Have you heard anything of The Watchers-"
"Aye, we should move somewhere private. There could be unwanted ears." Baderon warns.
Roberts looks around the tavern, seeing one hooded man nearby the bar, body turned away but foot turned towards and head leaning to both men.
"Ah, you're right."
Before Roberts could get up, the hooded man approached him and whispered information in a volume so low Roberts could barely hear then swiftly left.
"Who was that?" Baderons brows furrow in concern and curiousity.
"Not sure, he seems to be an ally of Ol' Man Gilbert." Roberts downs another pint as he watches the hooded man leave the tavern. Turning his attention back to Baderon, he shrugs his shoulders with a careless grin on his face, "But I got what I needed so that's all I care for."
Baderon shrugs it off, going "If that's what matters." After which they discuss many things, the upkeep of the Drowning Wench, the tavern, how the business is booming and still the most popular tavern in all of Gun Lagh, the wife, Delilah, and last but not least, Ric.
"You see, the girl, she's new here and incredibly handy, but Delilah and I, we were thinking..." He trails, seeming heavy on the topic, "Delilah's wonderful in the kitchen, she's doing great. I have the bar down, clearly no issues with me here." He states proudly. "I guess what I'm trying to say is— you should take her. We think she shouldn't be confined to one place. She's young- and clearly lively. I know sending her off with a buncha pirates ain't exactly the best idea but there's just so much out there for her to do... y'know?" Baderons gaze moved to Ric, who is currently one of the focal points of entertainment having a third of the whole bar raise their mugs and glasses to her in cheer, sing, and shout.
She goes around the bar and sings interactively with the tavern while strumming her ukulele as loud as she can. Her pale green tunic spotted with beer and her hair a complete mess. The men and women around her in a similar state as they cheer and enjoy themselves, singing sea shanties and traditional songs, teaching the foreign visitors them as well. The heavily clothed men were dancing and messing around, clinking their mugs and making countless toasts.
"Look! I can play too!" One incredibly drunk man holds his guitar and starts strumming chords from another dimension entirely.
"Yeah! Go— you? That's great effort..." Ric trails with a certain look on her face of pressed support, she tries hard to support him as his drunken playing sounds like guitar murder. "To the drunk man!" She turns to the tavern and raises a mug that isn't hers and tries playing with him so there would be at least some semblance of music to his attempts.
One man at the same table as the drunk musician had referred to Ric's ukulele as a tiny guitar, which made her fume, nearly starting a fight. But she held it together.
"Yeah, no, definitely, Lively? I can see that." Roberts looks back to Baderon after witnessing the situation. "I'll take her under one— one condition!" He slams his mug down after taking yet another pint. "You give me three more of these." He pounds the table with his fist, quite tipsy.
"No problem," Baderon laughs heartily as he pours Roberts yet another mug of beer, "She can handle herself quite well too if that helps."
"That's great and all but," Roberts holds his mug up, his head now on the bar table, "More drinks—"
As the people got themselves wasted and enjoyed their night to the fullest, some retired to their ship and some retired to an inn nearby. The tavern had gone quiet aside from the creaks in the board from Baderon walking around cleaning up the mess. He had told Ric to go pack as she'd be going on the ship with the crew. She didn't seem to mind, though she did ask if she broke anything in the tavern or if she messed up with something, which she hadn't, not too much anyway. A few broken mugs and angry pirates are usual things, nothing someone would get cast out for. Baderon reassured her she did nothing wrong, he just thinks it would be nice for her to explore, which she had nothing against and seemed quite excited for.
Baderon had finished cleaning the tavern and the bar, and Delilah had finished in the kitchen and went to bed after telling him to check on Ric once more, just to be sure. Delilah never really interacted much with rich aside from bringing her food and cooking way Ric loves best when sick. She's a strong and silent but gentle woman. Baderon trudged up the stairs and knocked on Ric's door.
"Yep!" The usual chipper voice told him to open the door.
"So..." He stood outside and waited for her to open it instead, "You ready?" He looked behind her seeming a little awkward and concerned.
"I'm good, almost done. Just gotta make sure the pot doesn't break. Ships can get a little bumpy." She smiles and glances at a really big pot with sweet basil and lettuce. Ric had asked Roberts if she could bring a plant since the idea of eating fish everyday sounded... Well, not pleasant. Roberts of course assured her they weren't animals, they didn't only eat fish.
"Alright, good." Baderons lips pressed thin as the burly man tried not to show any distress or opinions. He suggested it after all and still stood by his idea.
"Did I really not do anything?" Ric raised an eyebrow. She broke a really nice expensive mug once then cracked the replacement. At that point, Baderon had restricted her from going behind the bar.
"Nah, Delilah and I just think you shouldn't stay in this place for... Well however long. You should at least have some adventure."
The two stood at the doorway for a while in silence.
"Alright then I'll finish up in here." She closed the door as the two said goodnight quickly.
Packing what few clothes she had, she packed her other belongings and double checked for her whistle, something she considers very important. After which, she goes to bed and and falls asleep wondering what it will be like to sail the seas as a lifestyle. She had been on ships before, for family business. Her family was in trade so she'd learn some things here and there by riding with the shipments, but they were only a few days or so of being on sea.
A couple hours later, she awoke to a knock on the door. A familiar thunking. It was Baderon coming to wake her up.
"G'mornin'!" Ric cheerfully swung open her door as per usual but looking like death.
"Morning, look, I know you'll do fine and all, I trust those boys with me life. Maybe not entirely but decently enough. Anyway here, I want you to have this..." He holds out a dagger. It's not fancy, it's a simple diving knife with six tally marks on it.
"Thank you." Ric gasped, feeling very appreciative. She doesn't know if it has any sentimental value of if it is a very reliable knife but she accepts it with much gratitude. She ties it tightly with a cord around her belt.
Ready to go, she and Baderon both head down carrying trunks and bags of things. Delilah smiles at Ric and gives her two large tupperwares of food and soup.
"G'mornin'," Ric greets everyone. Most of them look incredibly hung over.
The biggest woman Ric has ever seen is waiting at the bar. Arms crossed, muscles like rocks, height like a mountain and hair like wavy silk. She stands built and scarred.
"Hey!" She greets Ric and Baderon with eyebags incredibly dark, "I'll take those." She carries the trunks as well as the pot.
"Oh geez you look like you're dying." Ric comments and looks around, "Well fuck, you all do."
Baderon places a hand on Ric's shoulder, "Be safe out there. I know you can handle yourself."
"Where'd you get that idea?" Ric jokes, then nods and says she will. She bids both Baderon and Delilah goodbye, thanking them both for taking her in and taking care of her.
Ric heads out following some of the crew, strong woman next to her. As they get on the ship, she looks back at Gun Lagh, her home country and smiles. Excited for the adventure ahead. The crew settle in the ship, going around doing their duties. The strong woman, Shirley, sets her things in the room where everyone sleeps, but left the plant outside on the deck then brought her around the ship, introducing her to others until she had to go. Ric then went around introducing herself to the people she hadn't, and explored the ship. She wound up in the cafeteria, meeting the two chefs, Jon-Jon and Jaun.
The crew seemed pretty fine to her. Nothing too odd or bland. She did however stumble upon the man who called her ukulele a mini guitar in the cafeteria after meeting Jon-Jon and Jaun, and got riled up.
"Hey it's small guitar." The man talked to himself under his breath, acknowledging her existence as she passed him by.
To this, Beatrice's eyes widened and she held her ukulele by the neck like a sword and raised it behind his head, then calmed down. Her ukulele is too important to be smashed against someone's head.
"It's not a tiny guitar." She clarified, standing behind him with her hands down.
"Well it's not a regular sized one." The man spoke, genuinely not knowing what it's called.
She stomps off. After exiting the cafeteria, she in informed she had been called by the captain. She heads to the captain's stateroom after asking where it is.
"Hey there Rob," Ric enters after knocking and being told to enter.
"What?" Roberts seems a bit taken back by the familiarity she greets with.
"Ah, sorry. Is that rude?"
"Uh, well I'm gonna be honest, I don't really remember last night. Tenfingers told me to take you in, what's your name again? You don't have to go with us, you can go back if you'd like." Roberts seemed very dismissive.
"Ric, well it's actually Beatrice Shippet, but people call me Ric."
"What? I don't see how Ric comes from that but—"
"Well you take away Beat and you remove the last E so you're left with Ric"
"Oh. Oh I see, yeah I guess that makes sense." He seems a little confuddled but accepts it.
"I'll stay, it seems nice. Plus Baderon suggested it." She stays standing, waiting to be dismissed.
"Alright, well we're sailing for Targov, so set your things and get ready." He dismisses her.
"Already did, Shirley helped."
"Ah, right." He looks at his map.
She leaves and ventures the deck again, seeing the crew setting sail. She passed the drunk musician from last night and sees he's playing quite well sober. She goes up to the starboard side of the ship. The sail goes smoothly. At some point the Captain emerges from the stateroom and heads to the starboard, standing next to Bubba, his right hand man, with his compass and map. The sky is clear for the most part.
The ship approaches an infamous mass of mist on sea on the way to Targov. Though it's quiet and known to hold nothing, ships avoid it regardless. So Bubba steers the ship around it. The ship sails smoothly but slows, almost to a stop around the mist.
"Captain!" Bubba bellows.
He leans over the edge of the ship to see the sea around them and sees what looks like a faint shadow of the boat, however the dark figure grows as it appears to get closer to the surface of the water. The sea crashes against them before the boat comes to a standstill.
"I CAN SEE, ALL ON DECK!" The captain shouts as the crew shouts his orders back, calling the rest.