Ships’ Logs: Beyond Museica, Part 14
Part 13 lasted almost a year and a half. It’s good to see things (and waves) rolling again. What will the new thread bring?
Date: March 14, 2010
Categories: RRRs, RPWs, and RPGs
Saturday, 27 April 2024
Life, the universe, pies, hot-pink bunnies, world domination, and everything
Part 13 lasted almost a year and a half. It’s good to see things (and waves) rolling again. What will the new thread bring?
Date: March 14, 2010
Categories: RRRs, RPWs, and RPGs
First officer’s log:
We have left the island and are now heading for Béngeal, the spice city. The winds are light but steady so far. I would make a longer entry but our cook has made a delicious fruit tart which I can smell from here.
I look forward to recruiting new crew members to the Seahawk once we reach port- yes Larry, you may have some tart if you behave for once. I should write a note: next time I decide to get a parrot, hit me over the head and relieve me of command.
((Yay! Thank you so much, GAPAs!
Current crew of the Seahawk:
Red-tailed HAWK, Captain, last posted on May 23, 2009
Bookgirl_me, First Mate, last posted on March 14, 2010
IBCF, Head of the Air Department, last posted on January 28, 2009
Kokonilly, Ship’s Doctor, last posted on June 24, 2009
Cerulean Pyros, Ship’s Cook, last posted on March 14, 2010
Midnight Fiddler, Boatswain, last posted on September 10, 2009
RoseQuartz, Common Sailor, last posted on December 7, 2008
Errata, Scientist, last posted on February 8, 2010
Enceladus, Cook’s Assistant, last posted on July 26, 2009
I think that’s everyone. Who wishes to maintain en’s position?
I have decided to maintain my position as cook, but offer the position of cartographer to anyone who wants it.))
((Welcome back, CP! Sorry that I didn’t mention it in my barely-disguised first post grab. I think we should forcefully retain RTH and Midnight Fiddler in their positions, because otherwise the next officer or sailor would automatically promoted. Besides, I have faith in them showing up soon. It’s great to know we won’t starve, wherever we go.))
I would like to be the cartographer!
I’d like to join, if possible.
((I’ll retain my position. Sorry I haven’t posted.))
We reached port! It’s a foreign land that I haven’t been to ever. Not that I’ve been many places, since I was only recently hired. It’s a beautiful port, though. I can smell the spices being loaded onto the ship, where we’ll take them to trade in another city for a tasty profit.
“Holy Cake!” I cry. “We’ve been here for almost…” *counts on fingers* “…8 months!” Time to move on to another island, Kiwimuncher!”
May I be assistant scientist?
3 (Bookgirl_me): Agreed. Captain Hawk shall never be deposed. I’m sure he and Fiddler will return.
4 (Beetles): Go ahead!
6 (Enceladus): It’s okay. Welcome back!
5&8 (Ambystoma Maculatum): Welcome! I imagine you’ll need to ask Errata, but I think your requested position is available.
Cook’s Account of the Continuing Travels of the Seahawk
It’s late, so I’ll make it short. We are in Bengeal. It is the largest city I have ever been in. The marketplaces are enormous. I am stocking up on foodstuffs. I have wandered around a beautiful park and visited a huge museum.
I’ve just come from a rock concert that a boy selling vegetables told me about. ‘Twas wonderful. The music was very good and the people in attendance were fascinating. Veggie Boy was playing a guitar, but most of the instruments were unfamiliar to me. I tasted some sort of delicious fruit pastry that nobody would give the recipe to.
All in all, I’m having a very good time and we’ve hired two new crew members.
What on earth is that noise?
–Cerulean
Can I join the crew – doctor’s assistant, maybe?
10 (Artemis the Huntress): I don’t see why not. Kokonilly, the doctor, hasn’t been on in a while. Welcome aboard!
Since of course I have not had time to read all of the ships logs, I’m not really sure what I should do as a cartographer right now. Could someone please inform me?
((Are we all native to Museica?))
I was hired on the Seahawk last week, and I am very happy. The crew is nice and I am going to be able to see many new and exotic places.
Bengeal is gigantic. It’s the most major port on the coast we’re currently near, and there are people of all different countries passing through here. The museum here is full of things people have brought, and at the section with live animals, there were some very beautiful lizards, which made noises that sounded like singing. I saw many wungs about today; the city appears to have lots.
I’m having a wonderful time.
((13- I believe so. Most of us, at least.))
A spice stand! Cool.
What? 150 piepoints? This will have an adverse affect on my pocketbook.
((Hi everybody! I know, I know, I’m crazy, but I can’t help it. Plus, it’s useful. Erm..somehow. Anyway, I’d like to join, but I don’t really know what kind of positions are available on board this ship, since different ships have different kinds of positions, right? So…yeah, thanks for letting me join (if you do) ))
((15- Of course you can join! We’re in a tall-ship’s world setting, so computer scientist or something like that is out, but otherwise the sky’s the limit. We can also use just plain sailors if you want.
12- Basically, you write your diary, your log. As the cartographer, you should probably buy some maps while we’re in port, but otherwise you’re free to explore. Captain Hawk made a map of Museica which might be helpful if you want to get technical. We’re currently sailing around the flavor continent (I’m merrily making up the city names as we go). ))
1st officer’s log:
We have taken aboard four new crewmembers and are ready to ship out as soon as the sightseeing is complete. I have also hired some local workers to re-paint the hull so the Seahawk is looking fine again.
Larry has been terrorizing the locals at market by inviting himself to sample their goods. This has made me slightly unpopular, but restraining him only gets me bitten for my troubles and the prices suddenly fall monumentally when I threaten to stay and argue. I have taken aboard some extra spices as cargo in case we ever need to negociate something.
We shall stay roughly another week until the workers are done and the chain of squalls passes. Now I’m headed off to the tavern to hear what others have to say about the seas beyond: we could go west to Dor and try sail the narrow passage into the filling sea, double back east to who- knows where (hopefully ending up in Iknurowlis eventually and not, as some people stubbornly believe, falling off the end of the world), or we could go NW to Muserland and Wind, or N to Banana and Coconut Island and ultimately HPB-Land (on second thought, we might NOT want to go there). Now I shall leave. If my peaceful drink ends up in a brawl, it was definitely Larry’s fault.
((Yikes, I’ve not posted here lately. Sadly, nautical writer’s block has been afflicting me! Sorry.
12 (Beetles): Sorry to leave you hanging! Bookgirl_me summed it up really well. I only have one thing to add: Have fun!
15 (Selenium the Quafflebird): Welcome aboard! There is actually more than one ship, but the Seahawk has the most people, and is thus the most active.
Many positions are fine, but we already have a captain, a first mate, a head of air department, a doctor, a cook, a boatswain, a scientist, and a cartographer. I think that all of these people would be annoyed if their positions were usurped. We also have a cook’s assistant, doctor’s assistant, and scientist’s assistant. If you would also like to be one of those, please ask me, Kokonilly, or Errata, respectively.
Beyond that, any job you want can be yours, just ask!
Cook’s Account of the Often Quite Cheerful Travels of the Seahawk
Well, we have hired several new crew members, which is very exciting!
Right now, most of us are sitting in a dimly lit, but charming, and unusually reputable, tavern on the waterfront. I just ate a delicious piece of cobbler that was filled with some kind of fruit, but their cook won’t even give me a hint to what goes into it. For some reason, Bengeals are very cagey about their recipes. It’s getting a little irksome, especially since they make such good food!
A young lady just approached the senior officers to inquire about joining our ship. Her name is Selenium, I think, and she seems very eager. I don’t know what she wants to do, but I expect she’ll make a cheerful addition to our crew, if she joins.
There are some troubadour-like fellows in the corner who have just ceased magic tricks in favor of playing music and singing. They’re rather good; very charismatic. I do hope Larry picks it up. He lacks sufficient enjoyable music in his repertoire. Some people have started dancing. This is shaping out to be quite a lovely evening.
–Cerulean
((Is the position of sailing master all right? I don’t really know too much about these things…))
(( Hey! I couldn’t tell whether you had researched sailing masters or not, so this may be telling you something you already know. My apologies if that is the case.
My understanding of a Sailing Master is that said personage would be an officer whose duties would include general navigation, determining the sail positioning, overseeing the hoisting and lowering of the anchor, navigating the docking and departure, and other, related things. Is that the same as your usage of the term? If so, then I think it’s fine! If not, please explain what you would like to do.))
((Yeah, I think I’ll be the Sailing Master then.))
Sailing Master’s Log
Today is my first day as Sailing Master aboard the Seahawk. The crew is quite lovely, and I think I shall feel quite at home here. I shall be sad to leave Bengeal, but I simply cannot miss this adventure! The ship is going to be anchored at Bengeal for a few days yet, so I have some time to see everything. I will miss the good food of Bengeal, but perhaps I can educate the cook about some of the techniques that are used. Never mind about the food, it has always been my dream to travel on a ship to far away lands, and it looks like it shall finally be realised once we set sail in around a week’s time!
Sailing Master’s Log
The ship is only going to remain for a few days longer at Bengeal, and I have taken the opportunity to travel around the city and see everything before we set sail. I have just come back from the markets – previously I had asked the captain whether I could bring some provisions from Bengeal on board, and he agreed. As I write, barrels of spices are being loaded into the storerooms for the cook’s use. I shall truly look forward to the voyage once we leave, and it is a small comfort to me that I will be able to travel with the familiar spices of my home city. We set sail in two day’s time, and already everyone is getting things ready and making their last rounds of the city. I do wonder what the Seahawk and its crew will encounter along this leg of the voyage – and I have yet to be informed where our next port of calling is.
Cartographer’s Log
Bengeal is a beautiful city. I have been wandering around the city, and stopped for lunch at a very exotic restaurant. The wungs that served me were quite nice. I had a dish called “Gosita”. As most people would say, it tasted like chicken. I think I’ll take a walk.
Cook’s Account of the Perpetually Changing Travels of the Seahawk
We’ve a new Sailing Master aboard! She is Selenium, the lass who approached us the other evening. Nice girl. She purchased some fine spices that I look forward to being able to use.
We will be headed in the general direction of Dor when we depart. I look forward to it, but Captain Hawk was surprised by my enthusiasm and said that he hoped I had brought a warm coat. I do hope it isn’t frightfully cold.
Ought to be setting out in a couple of days. The worrying squalls are nearly passed.
–Cerulean.
Sailing Master’s Log
Someone has just informed be that our next destination is Dor, and warned be to make sure I had warm clothes. I do not enjoy cold weather at all, having been brought up here all my life, but I hope that I shall be able to bear it. All the same, the adventure in itself will be exciting enough.
We shall be setting sail in two days, I believe.
((When can we set sail?))
Sailing Master’s Log
It is night-time as I write this, and my small and cosy cabin is lit with a single paraffin lamp that burns steadily through the darkness. I am so terribly excited that I cannot sleep, God help me, and the only thing I can think of doing is writing in my log, which, as you can see, I am doing now.
Tomorrow, we shall set sail! We are going to Dor, and I have spent this last day in the city finding warm clothes to prepare for the icy conditions of the north. Unfortunately, clothes of the sort are not very widely available in Bengeal, it being a city of the tropics, and I had to search very hard to find a suitable wool merchant who would sell me the items I required. Finally, I have everything I leave, today being the last day that all crew members would have to amass their supplies.
We leave early in the morning tomorrow, at the crack of dawn. My Bengealian spices are safely packed away in the cargo hold, and I have given the chef my permission to use them whenever necessary, and if help would be required in preparing them, I am ready to provide assistance in cooking and the like.
The captain seems pleased with my services thus far; I hope our journey proves to be a successful one.
Now I am tired and starting to wish for sleep, I shall stop writing for tonight. The next time I enter something, it will be tomorrow and daylight, and we shall be on our way to Dor!
((Can we set sail now?))
26 (Selenium the Quafflebird): Sure! Sorry that I haven’t found time to post here for a bit.
Cook’s Account of the Climate-Changing Travels of the Seahawk
I write this with one hand while holding an umbrella with the other. Molasses is on my lap, purring softly. The galley ceiling has sprung a leak–naturally, right over the spot that is most comfortable to sit. We have set sail and have been caught by the tail end of a storm system. It won’t be a problem, I’m told, we’ll just have a day or two of light rain.
Tonight, we dine upon warm sandwiches and black cherry ice cream. Enceladus is taking a turn cranking the ice cream. We’re doing it in shifts. Hot chocolate, bubbling on the stove, is pleasantly assaulting my nose. I may need to leave the room so that I am not tempted to drink it all.
The ship just lurched and the lantern fell over. We put the fire out. Only a little damage done, mainly to the table, which now bears an exciting-looking scorch mark. Of course, the glass in the lantern broke and had to be cleaned up, but we have a few replacements, so the problem has been resolved. My turn to crank now.
–Cerulean
Sailing Master’s Log
We have set sail! As I recorded earlier, we left early in the morning as to avoid the harbour traffic of later hours. Unfortunately, almost after we left we encountered the remnants of a heavy storm, which luckily for us is starting to lightening up. The rain, however, continues to fall, and most everybody is down below where they can stay mostly dry. I see no reason to direct the sailors to divert our course, as obviously the storm is nearly over and we would not benefit from taking a longer way around simply to avoid a bit of light rain! There was a bit of complaining from those who did not wish to get even more wet, but for the most part the sailors are relieved that they will not have to adjust the sails and may stay down below where it is warm and dry!
First officer’s log:
Maybe heading for Dor wasn’t such a good idea. It’s raining and rather stormy, exactly the weather I was trying to avoid. Ah well, at least dinner sounds good. My only grievance is Larry- he isn’t taking to the cold at all. I hope he gets better- I don’t want to have to leave him behind at a warm port when we head for the passage.
Cook’s Account of the Unusually Frigid Travels of the Seahawk
It is late at night. I’ve just finished my shift in the crow’s nest and am now trying to get warm again.
Each day, the air is getting colder. The galley, being the warmest place on the ship, has received far more visitors than usual. I have pulled all my warmest clothes out of my sea chest and have been adding layers as is necessary. Poor Molasses doesn’t have his winter coat yet, so he has claimed a permanent spot by the stove. My candle’s about to burn out– maybe I can catch some moonlight if I go on deck.
I’m on deck now. I can’t see this page very well, but I do see something in the water…
It appears to be a ship. I see some people running around on the deck…is it just me, or are they headed straight for us? Uh-oh.
–Cerulean
Sailing Master’s Log
It has been getting colder, and the water at the very top of the sails is starting to solidify. I have sent someone up to try and scrape off the ice, but with the constant wind blowing on the sail, there will always be ice forming for as long as we remain in this area. I write this huddled in the galley, the warmest place in the ship. Nearly everybody is crowded down here, afraid of spending a second longer outside, in the accursed frigidity. Perhaps in a few days’ time, judging from the cartographer’s map of the area, we shall reach a slightly warmer climate. I hope we do, as I cannot stand much more of this freezing weather.
Cook’s Account of the Chase-Ensuing Travels of the Seahawk
As dawn broke, we realized that the mystery ship, the curiously named “Copper Artichoke” is not flying any colours. This does not bode well. Not in the mood to be attacked by pirates, Captain Hawk declared that we must try to outrun them. So we are giving it everything we’ve got. Still they pursue us. We are fast. They are faster. They will eventually catch us, unless we dump some cargo. We already dropped most useless things. If that does not help, we shall have to either fight or drop things we actually need. Neither prospect strikes us as appealing.
Wait! The other ship has run up a white flag! They may yet be trying to trick us. Someone is on the prow. Is that semaphore?
Oh, my. They are begging us to stop…They say they need help badly…starving…Oh, heaven! The poor fellow who was signaling was just shoved into the water! We must save him…What is happening on the Copper Artichoke?
–Cerulean
Ships Logs still lives!
I’m not sure what’s happening, but that is one awesome name for a ship! Don’t you agree Cheesy?
Cheesy: Bleep bleepen bloop bleepy bleep blop!
Oh really? Cheesy says that there appears to be a disturbance on deck but he can’t see much of what’s going on except for the fact that he think’s that there is an infestation of creatures called…. What did you say Cheesy?
Cheesy: Blop.
Oh. Fudgeons. What are those?
Sailing Master’s Log
There seems to be a commotion up on deck. I can hear shouting, and people running around.
Oh, goodness. Cerulean, our cook, has just come running in to tell me that there is a mysterious boat near, the Copper Artichoke
I’ve just come up on deck now, and I can see that there is indeed a white flag raised, though I can see some people are trying to have it lowered.
Several of our crew members have dived into the water to try and save the man pushed overboard. They’re now climbing back up, and he is being bundled into the captain’s cabin. Cerulean is bringing him hot soup. I wonder what he will have to tell us?
I order the crew to have the sails ready in case we need to retreat, but for now we are staying here, hesitant. What a strange ship the Copper Artichoke is – why, even its name is funny!
((33 (Kiwimuncher): It’s alive, it’s aliive, it’s aliiiive!))
Cook’s Account of the Travels of the Seahawk
Oh! Some of us, braver, more noble souls than I, have dived into the freezing-cold water–I see the captain, and some others–and they are trying to rescue the fellow in the water. They have extended a life-saving device–they have him! They’re swimming back! What am I doing standing here writing? I have soup to heat up!
~They’ve gotten him on deck. Those of us who are dry are wrapping the wet ones in blankets that they need more than we. They’re all stumbling into the captain’s cabin. I’ll fetch that soup. Tomato-basil, potato-leek, or broccoli and cheddar. They all smell splendid.
~It’s later. We’ve all gathered in the kitchen for warmth. Our visitor from the Copper Artichoke is sitting in the old faded blue chair by the stove. We are silent, except for his polite but eager slurping of soup. I shall take this opportunity to describe him. He is young, a year or two older than I, and terribly thin. “Starving,” he signaled. I can tell that he told the truth. He is wearing spare clothes while his own threadbare shirt, coat, and breeches dry on a line over the stove. He is also wrapped in blankets–my quilt and plaid one, and someone’s polka-dotted coverlet. He wore no shoes when he arrived. My neighbor is reading over my shoulder, and says I should write that he is handsome. That is true, though I hadn’t really thought about it ’til now, so here it is: he is rather good-looking. He almost wept with joy when I handed him his first bowl of soup. He is on his third now, and keeps sending me grateful smiles.
We have not harassed him for information, just made him as comfortable as we can. Now, however, the captain has asked his name. He says it is Ivan–I can’t spell his last name. He has a slight accent. He says that he has been on the Copper Artichoke since he was born. It’s a merchant ship. His father is the captain. The ship was hijacked two months ago. Some of the crew is still adamantly against the hijackers. Some of the crew is loyal, but frightened into complacency. The “villainous scum” are making life extremely difficult for those who belong on the ship. Ivan’s father has been locked up in the brig. He hasn’t seen him at all. He doesn’t even know if he’s still alive. He has fallen silent.
We have promised to help. Ivan, satisfied, has shifted in his chair. I think he’s falling asleep. I am going to my cabin so as not to disturb him.
–Cerulean
((May I rejoin at this part? I know I haven’t posted in a very long time, and I sincerely hope you haven’t found a replacement for me.))
Doctor’s Log of the Seahawk
So! It seems I have a new assistant, Artemis. The name isn’t quite fitting, as Asclepius is the god of medicine, but Artemis is the goddess of childbirth (hopefully we’ll never have to invoke that power).
We rescued someone recently from the Copper Artichoke, by the name of Ivan; he’s older than I. He was pushed overboard as he was trying to signal us! How horrible. He seems rather malnourished, but Cerulean is tending to that. When he told his sorry tale, we promised to help him. I am now observing him for signs of anemia, scurvy, and other diseases, but as he’s asleep, I’m just preparing things for when he wakes. He’s terribly thin; I fear the worst.
Everyone seems to think him handsome. I haven’t the faintest idea – I just want to help him.
Oh! He’s stirring.
– He doesn’t seem to have any of the typical lack of nutrient diseases, and he’s not starving starving, just is very thin. I’ve asked him to stand up, and he immediately collapsed, complaining of fatigue and leg pain. Those symptoms seem familiar…
– Oh dear God. He has polio. It’s not paralytic, but still awfully contagious and life-threatening.
– Just ordered everyone away from him and sealed off his room, but haven’t explained why. I don’t want to cause panic. I may be the only person on this ship who’s been vaccinated, but I fear for the Copper Artichoke and everyone who was near him. Oh God – Cerulean! She gave him food! And the dishwasher! The spoon and bowl are contaminated!
– Incubation time ranges from seven to fourteen days. It may be a week until we find out the damage that has been done. God help us all.
((All is forgiven, yes? I hope I’ve made the story more exciting.))
((All is forgiven, Kokonilly! Yes, the story has been given a dramatic turn–how shall it turn out?))
Cook’s Account of the Suspense-Filled Travels of the Seahawk
I am really quite shocked by Kokonilly’s behavior! She was just inspecting Ivan and came out of his room a bit flustered. She then ordered everyone to stay away without any explanation, though I feel we have a right to one, and just told me not to give him food! She dragged me bodily from his door! Then she refused to let me in the kitchen! I asked her if he really is starving and she said he was merely malnourished, so why on earth can’t he be given food to help him recover?
I wonder what’s wrong with him. He may have something contagious–that would explain Kokonilly’s behavior. Oh, Kokonilly! How kind of you to try and bear the burden alone!
Well, I’ll just go speak to her. I have received a number of vaccinations–even the one for polio! If I’m guarded against what he has, I can perhaps be of some help.
–Cerulean
((I just wanted to move the story along a little, and I’ve been itching to stir up things somehow.))
Doctor’s Log of the Seahawk
Cerulean’s notices my odd behavior. I suppose it has been somewhat evident. But it’s okay, because she’s been vaccinated for polio.
It seems I’ve forgotten some lessons from medical school: non-paralytic polio is not fatal, just is similar to a bad cold. Well, maybe this is a bad cold.
Oh dear, Ivan has a fever now.
~ He’s slept off his fatigue, but still has muscle pain. Oh! He’s yelling at me for food. Must go.
((Okay, I didn’t mean to submit that. How did that happen?))
His legs are rather stiff now.
~ What?! He has paralytic polio. This is VERY bad. If the virus spreads to his airway he could die. I now am contaminated. I can’t leave this cabin anymore. All precautions must be taken.
((Looking back, this was an awkward turnaround, designed only to add some spice. Non-paralytic polio isn’t fatal, and victims usually recover, but paralytic polio, if it reaches the airway, could kill quickly.))
Hello, everyone. Ye gods, it seems like an eternity since I’ve been here… and hardly any familiar faces, too. TMFA and Kiwi haven’t been here since March, it seems.
I heard the Zommer was sunk in a terrible battle against HPBs… are there any other ships currently spaceworthy?
((Hey, Kokonilly! Sorry I left you hanging. I’m not sure how to proceed with a highly contagious, probably fatal disease on the ship. Ideas?
Does post 38.1.1 mean that you’d like to change the plot thread back to non-paralytic polio?))
((Nah, added fatality is more suspenseful.
Maybe you should keep it quiet for now. We could stop the ship for a made-up cure that would require an epic quest?))
I’ll just have to convert the Star of Qurtv, then.
39 (POSOC): Somehow, I managed to not see this post ’till now.
Welcome back!
Yup, lots of new crew members and not many old salts.
I don’t think the Seahawk is spaceworthy–seaworthy, certainly–but if I’m wrong, my apologies.
Feel free to join the Seahawk if you’d like! Seahawk is active and has an ample crew, which makes it awfully appealing to new recruits. Unfortunately for some, this means that other ships tend to be ignored.
You might get lonely on a ship by yourself, though the Star of Qurtv is mighty yare.
40.1 (Kokonilly): That would work! I am, however, drawing a blank right now, so I’ll make a log at a later time.
Assistant Scientist’s Log
The captain has made an announcement that at Ivan’s request, we are composing a party of crewmen to board the Copper Artichoke and assist its crew against the pirates hijackers. Kokonilly, the ship’s doctor, says that it is vitally important that nobody who isn’t vaccinated against polio board the Copper Artichoke. I can’t exactly remember which vaccines I have, and decide to play it safe and stay on the Seahawk. I probably wouldn’t be much use in a fight anyway, and from Ivan’s description of the pirates, it seems as thought a lot of force will be necessary if we’re going to try to let the original crew regain control of their ship.
Sailing Master’s Log
It’s been a while since I’ve written but so much has been going on, it’s been hard to find the time to sit down and write.
Ivan is still with us here on the ship, though we’ve all been ordered to stay away from his cabin if we are not vaccinated against polio. Thankfully, everyone in Bengeal is vaccinated as an infant, so I have nothing to fear. I can still go everywhere on the ship, which is lucky, as there is much to prepare for the battle against the pirate hijackers. I didn’t want to call it a battle, but the captain says we must face facts, and pirates, which probably will mean a battle.
I will probably not be fighting, unless the captain says otherwise, but I must stay here and guide the ship to make sure it does not fall behind the Copper Artichoke as our crew are fighting! I would not wish for anyone to be left alone on a ship in the middle of the ocean with a bunch of villainous pirates!
Yay! People!
Cook’s Account of the Rather Perilous Travels of the Seahawk
Well. We are going to attack the Copper Artichoke. I can’t say that I’m looking forward to it, but we either must attack or be attacked. Our crew is so small that our chances are greater if we have the element of surprise, so we shall attack tonight, very soon…
I am on the Copper Artichoke. I am still in amazement. The pirates found us to be a minor nuisance–until the entire rightful crew of the vessel turned on their captors. Apparently, an uprising had already been planned and our arrival caused them to need to execute their plan sooner.
No one has suffered any injuries. Kokonilly gave everyone aboard the other ship a full exam while she was at it, and no one has polio or anything else, either. The crew is very nice. The pirates are less nice and have been locked in the brig.
The cook of the Copper Artichoke is named Archer. I’m in his galley right now. It’s bigger than mine, but mine is better organized. Also, mine has more light. Archer is very nice, though. He’s my age, with un-tamable red hair. He’s been teaching me about some fruits and vegetables I was previously unacquainted with. They are native to Dor and simply delicious. Errata has been testing some of them to see what nutrients they have and so-forth.
The captain has just come running into the galley. He is quite excited. He’s asking about a fruit called something that means “miraculous” or something similar. Kokonilly and Errata are talking about it. Archer is looking at them curiously. He has just told them something that is causing Kokonilly to dance a jig, Errata to start beaming about scientific discoveries, and Captain Hawk to heave a great sigh of relief. “What is it?” I have asked. Good heavens! They think it might cure Ivan’s polio–well, if not altogether, it will help.
I’m in shock. We have all been so concerned about the threat of polio–and this solution is so easy! How is it that no one else knows of this? I asked Archer. He laughed. “I think that maybe no one ever asked,” was his very true reply.
I am praying that they are correct and that it works.
–Cerulean
((Kokonilly and everyone else, I’m sorry if this is too easy a solution for you, but I can’t think of an option I like better. I hope it is satisfactory to everyone!))
Assistant Scientist’s Log
Errata and I are very interested in the properties of this “miracle fruit”. It seems to contain a natural chemical harmless to humans but deadly to the polio virus. This plant could have very valuable medical applications.
((Does anyone else on the Copper Artichoke have polio? Were they all cured by this fruit? If not, where did Ivan catch it from?))
((Ambystoma Maculatum: No one else has polio. I suppose that maybe the fruit had something to do with that. I have no idea how Ivan contracted the disease. Sorry I don’t know more!
Happy birthday, by the way!))
Cook’s Account of the Happily Calmer but Still Frigid Travels of the Seahawk
Having said our fare-thee-wells to the crew of the Copper Artichoke, the Seahawk is heading to the port of Dornob. I am told that it is a medium-sized city known for its weaving and glass. Those both sound nice, but I look forward to seeing land rather than endless sea.
Today we fixed the leaks in my galley’s ceiling. I am enjoying being able to cook without holding an umbrella in one hand. Right now potato and leek pies are baking and chocolate cookies are in the works.
Archer gave me a beautiful mixing bowl in exchange for a whisk. He claimed that a beautiful mermaid queen had taken a shine to his and he had had little choice but to give it to her. She apparently is now using it as a scepter. “And, och, I’ve missed it ever since!”
I have just gone up on deck to toss the potato peels into the sea and I saw the most peculiar thing. It’s snowing. It is so cold here that the rain froze. The decks are covered in a thin powdery coating. We threw a few snowballs at each other. It’s really quite beautiful. It is also rather surreal. It is of course winter on this side of the globe, but still…Snow! At sea!
Molasses and Larry have never seen snow before, so they don’t know what to make of it. Larry actually fell silent when he saw the snow.
There are snowflakes in my hair that are melting and sliding down my face. The page is getting wet…
–Cerulean
Acting Captain’s log of the Seahawk
What a week, what a week! First the Coper Artichoke, then the polio scare… The water is frighteningly cold here, but it has a strange sense of beauty. It has been snowing for the past few days, first in fluffy lumps, then in tiny speck and then in such quantities that I begin to wonder. The wind is steady around 15 knots, suspiciously nice for this stormy area but still freezing. To that end, Cerulean has been making all sorts of teas and soups and stews, anything to keep us warm.
Larry is still dumbstruck by the snow, making an occasion “squawk” sound. I believe this is traditionally associated with parrots, but it seems very strange coming from his mouth as he considers himself above mere animals and probably mere humans as well. No, I’m being unfairly hard on him: he does know to keep silent when something truly crucial is going on.
I must abandon this log to meet with our cartographer, Beetles and the sailing master, Selenium. We will be attempting to navigate the complicated entrance to Dornob this evening, and I wish to get us all there in one piece. With the bruise on my cheek from the bar brawl in Bengeal (Larry started it, as usual) healing, I might even look civilized upon our arrival. There is some apprehension as to how the weather shall develop, mainly due to my inital mistrust of such a barren and largely uncharted area, but we’re committed as of …now.
It has stopped snowing and the wind has vanished as well. The sea, so full of ripples, has become a giant dark mirror. The end of the snow brings back Larry’s voice as he imitates an old tune. It’s slow and mournful but brave and irritatingly familiar but I can’t remember from where. Larry finishes, then shuffles along the railing looking west before he flies through the central hatch. A small coat of fog settles just over the surface as the faraway sun begins to set. The icy-green land draws closer and closer on both side, making me nervous.
This will be a long night.
Sailing Master’s Log
I have just returned from a meeting with the acting captain and the cartographer. We stayed up late into the night, discussing how to best get to Dornob, which is a notoriously difficult port to navigate.
Outside the cabin, it is snowing lightly again, though not as hard as before. It fascinates me, as in Bengeal we only ever had snow at the top of the mountains, and people rarely climbed them. It’s light, and fluffy, and surprisingly cold – it melts on deck and soaks the wooden floors through.
I wonder what we will see when we reach Dornob. We shall probably reach the city before dawn, so it is not too far away. Land is approaching, anyway.
Assistant Scientist’s Log
I woke up this morning to find the ship covered in snow. I’d heard of snow, of course, and seen it once or twice, but never in such large amounts. The whiteness covering everything had a surreal effect.I also studied some snowflakes under a microscope, and found them very intricate. It’s rather amazing that these patterns are natural.(though not from a scientific standpoint.)
Cook’s Account of the Very Rarely Calm Travels of the Seahawk
These past few days have been surprisingly calm. Cold, yes, but that is nothing new, as we have been steadily moving away from the equator.
I am officially wearing all the clothes I own. I am warm enough, but I do spend most of my time in the warm galley.
I have been mighty busy, for I am always heating something warm on the stove for my frigid crew mates. Every time someone gets of off a shift, en heads immediately to my galley, seeking heat. Captain Hawk, aware of this, has made the shifts shorter to reduce misery.
Ah, must start a new pot of tea…
–Cerulean
Hello, everyone. Grand Admiral (ret’d) Prarilius Oob Sir Ozlips Canix here, checking in on the status of those Muserly mariners still sailing. How are things? Any terrible crises or feats of derring-do?
…Apparently not.
Wow. After 14 iterations and 4 years, I think this thread is finally dead.
((Threads of a certain age don’t die. They hibernate.))
Assistant Scientist’s Log
The lookout has sighted an uncharted island! I’m glad, as the travels of the Seahawk have recently grown increasingly colder, and nothing interesting has happened since the incident with the Copper Artichoke . I’m also happy that the poor fellow will now have an excuse to come down from the crow’s nest. En’s been freezing ens limbs off for days up there now.
I can’t write more now, as we’re approaching the island and I want to watch. It has some interesting ice formations.
Acting Captains Log
We’ve reached a small, uncharted island and have prepared an enthusiastic expedition to explore it- most of the crew is going, as I fear we’re all growing weary of the rather monotone icy landscape. I’m going as well, though I’m a little nervous about leaving the Seahawk alone: the ocean is starting to fill with icebergs the closer we get to the treacherous Dor passage, making me paranoid.
I’m not the only one malcontent with the climate: Larry has been feeling rather under the weather since left approached the cold continent. I feel terribly guilty for bringing him here and am trying to make it up to him, letting him fly around in my overheated cabin and neglecting to scold him, heating his food but secretly I wonder if it might not be better to send him away now that he can still make it back to the flavor continent. Once we cross the passage it will be warmer again but I fear that that might be too late. I miss him even on expeditions, with his singular talent of creating chaos that we always had to sort out.
The island is covered in ice, all in strange shapes that I’m at loss to explain. Our science officer appears engrossed- apparently, they’re very rare. I shall leave this logbook in the dingy as we set off. There are some caves on the north side I’d love to explore…
Sailing Master’s Log
I write this sitting huddled in my cabin, absolutely frozen to the core. I cannot imagine a time when I have ever been this cold. It was never this freezing in Bengeal. Just a few days ago it was bearable, but now the wind has started to pick up and it’s got a lot colder. My cabin offers only minimal relief.
Good news, though – we arrived yesterday at a small island. I managed to help with the process of guiding the ship in towards the land as best as I could from the relative warmth of my bed, and we have made a safe landing. Most of the crew is going on an expedition to explore the island, but I think I shall stay here – I still need to grow used to this frigid climate, so different from the tropics of Bengeal. Also, there are dangerous icebergs around, and it woud benefit the ship if I remained on board to help in case anything happened.
I will write more later – everyone is helping with the packing at the moment and I think it would be best if I joined in; I’ve hidden in my room for long enough!
((Sorry, short post.))
(( Can I join?))
(({Wanders onto thread.} Great Scott! Other People! Huzzah! I had thought that I was the only one still interested in this thread. I got lonely, and bored of being lonely, hence my absence. Hello again, fellow sailors!
52&53–POSOC: Ahoy, O grand and admirable Grand Admiral! ‘Tis good to see your face around once again, sir! I beg to differ–this thread is not dead. It was merely playing possum. It does that. At this exact moment, we appear to have discovered an uncharted island. Would you care to join us in its exploration? Your company would be enjoyed!
57–Ghost of Pie Girl: Indeed, you may! New sailors are always welcome aboard the Seahawk. The ship grows and shrinks to accommodate the exact number of people aboard at a given time, which is ever so convenient.
Do you have a specific position in mind? Grand admiral, captain, ship’s scientist, sailing master, and cook are definitely taken. Head of Air Department, doctor, boatswain, and cartographer are in limbo, as it is not clear whether or not those people are still interested. A lot of positions are certainly available–just ask!))
Cook’s Account of the Renewed Adventures of the Good Ship Seahawk
Ah, it has been long, far too long since I have written. In truth, there has not been much to tell. Now, however, that has changed!
Just a few days ago, we were met with a mightily odd sight: a lone lifeboat, in the middle of this icy sea, with a single figure in it, waving a crimson bandanna as though his life depended on it–as it did. We hauled the frozen chap aboard. We got quite a shock when we saw him! The man had turquoise hair and the grandest uniform I have ever seen. It was Grand Admiral Prarilius Oob Sir Ozlips Canix! As you can imagine, we snapped to attention smartly. He seemed amused that we would do that, despite his retirement. I don’t care whether he is retired or not: he is still every inch a grand admiral, and entitled to respect. And, like any other three-quarters frozen human being, entitled to warmth, so I gave him some peppermint hot cocoa with ship-made marshmallows in my galley.
I admit that I am quite taken aback by him. He doesn’t seem to be nearly old enough to have made grand admiral, much less old enough to be retired! He does seem quite nice–he’s been staying in my galley, trying to be warm. I don’t blame him. I think he had been in that lifeboat for several days.
Speaking of that lifeboat, we asked what on earth had befallen him. His exact words were: “I don’t want to talk about it.” Ah, well. When he is ready to talk about it, it shall be quite a tale, I am certain!
In the meantime, more excitement abounds! An island has been spotted that is not on our maps. I, personally, think that we shall discover it to be inhabited, or at least known by the people of Dor. With the port of Dornob so close (we are, at long last, close), it seems unlikely to be unknown entirely. We shall be off to explore it in about half an hour.
Hullo, what’s this? There is a lass I’ve never seen before standing in my doorway. How did she get here? And–my goodness, she’s as pale as a ghost! I had better stop writing and speak to her.
–Cerulean
I think I have chronicled one of the few instances when posting “This thread is dead” actually succeeded in resurrecting it.
Assistant Scientist’s Log
Exploration of the island has begun. Our cartographer has started a map, and I am collecting specimens. The most interesting is a type of plant that is adept at growing with little soil. So far, we have not found any signs of intelligent life except for some odd markings in one cave which could possibly be paintings.
The cook also seems to have discovered another person on board! I wonder how she got here without any of us noticing, and why.
Many thanks for the hospitality, and the peppermint hot chocolate. I’d love to explain how I ended up in the lifeboat, but I’m afraid my last clear memory is from three days ago, at which time I was still on the Isle of Qurtv, in the Gulf of Dornavenk. I was, needless to say, pleasantly surprised to see a member of the Museican merchant marine still active. It was a less pleasant surprise to find myself in a leaky boat on a frozen sea.
An uncharted island, you say? I remember those. I’m surprised there are any left.
((Good lord! This thread is still alive???????? I remember the very first… gracious me… ))
Cerulean, who’s the ranking officer aboard the Seahawk? I know I am, technically, but I’m no longer on active duty and I wouldn’t dream of giving a captain orders on ens own ship anyway.
((63–POSOC: Well, Red-tailed HAWK began the ship, but he doesn’t post often, and holds the title of Owner/Occasional Captain. A while back, he told the crew to carry on with the ship regardless of whether or not he is present. Bookgirl_me, as First Mate, became Acting Captain, though everyone has some say. Of course, it never hurts to be friendly to the person responsible for feeding you.
I’ll write a log soon–I feel I need to wait for the story to move forward just a bit…))
((Okay, this thread has fallen silent. Pity, that. I hope it’s temporary. I shall post a log now…))
Cook’s Account of the Travels of the Seahawk
Well, unfortunately, the girl ran off as soon as she realized I’d seen her. Whether she is still on the ship or now on the island, I don’t know. I would not want to leave until we were certain–she could freeze to death if left here.
We are gallivanting around the island, charting it and noting things down. It’s really quite a desolate place. We’ve got supplies with us: cheese and tomato sandwiches wrapped in napkins to keep them warm and butternut squash soup and hot drinks in thermoses. Oh…we’ve also got some other things that aren’t food with us.
The island is mercifully small, so we shall complete our exploration soon. I am glad–I am quite sick of being cold. The wind bites here, worse than on the ship.
We’re exploring the network of caves right now. If the island has been lived on recently, the people probably lived here, for the caves are the only place sheltered enough. No signs of people yet–there are some stick figures on the walls, but they could easily be prehistoric, or so I’m told.
Now, that’s curious. I was certain that patch of algae was red a moment ago, but it’s orange now. I think I’d better tell Ambystoma Maculatum about it. Now, where is he?
Oh, blistering barnacles. The Grand Admiral just peeked out of the mouth of the cave. The tide has come in at an alarming–I’d say unnatural–rate! Our jolly boat isn’t on the shore anymore! We shall have to swim to it. Frigid water; soaking wet clothes; and a (probably) very grouchy crew huddled around in my galley–alas!
I may have to contact Eekeeknurknur and find out exactly what’s going on back in the Gulf, once we’re on board again. I’ll need some means of making fire, but I have all the other materials for the farspeaking with me.
Cook’s Account of the Dripping Wet Travels of the Generally Good Ship Seahawk
Well! That was highly unpleasant. The swimming through ice-cold waters, that is. We drew straws, and Prarilius and I swam to the jolly boat to retrieve it. The boat was most uncooperative, I must say! The two of us simply could not convince it to go against the current, which was stronger and faster than we remembered. It was all we could do to keep it from floating further from the shore! So more of our shipmates came to aid us…and more and yet more, until we were all in the boat and had no need to return to shore, though we did try, out of curiosity. Only with all of us on the oars could we budge it!
‘Tis a mighty gloomy bunch in my galley now. We were all wearing what clothes we could to begin with–so, in other words, we’re very creatively dressed while we wait for things to dry. I, for one, stripped my berth of its sheets and am now wearing a sort of stola, and a dressing gown, and a quilt pinned on like a cloak. I am also holding my trusty umbrella–the drying-lines would drip on me, otherwise. ‘Tis a comical figure I cut.
Prarilius is crouched in front of my stove, using the fire to do…something. I’m not really sure what. I’d ask, but he seems to be trying to focus hard. Nay, he is succeeding in focusing hard. Just a moment ago, I forgot he was there and tripped over him, and he didn’t even notice! I hope he doesn’t find, when he regains awareness of his surroundings, that he has a bruise.
I made spinach-red onion-raspberry salad and I will stick potatoes au gratin in the oven for dinner soon. In the meantime, we’re all drinking hot beverages–except for Prarilius, who didn’t hear me offering it. He’ll surely be grateful of the mug of cider I placed beside him, for he’s looking right chilly.
(Speaking of whom, I really ought to call him Grand Admiral, but Prarilius is shorter, and I doubt he’d mind–and it is hard to think of the turquoise-haired fellow wearing a tablecloth kilt and a borrowed bathrobe as a grand admiral. Plus, I’m grumpy, for I’m cold and damp and I keep stepping on or tripping over people, so I’m not in much of a mood to be respectful.)
((Hey, POSOC! I power-played you a bit more than usual in this post. Sorry! If there’s anything you want to be disregarded, please don’t hesitate to say so.))
Disturbing news, chaps. *blinks smoke out of eyes* I just talked with my old nautical shaman, and he claims that I sailed the Star of Qurtv out of Hydropastrica three days ago. I know for a fact that it couldn’t have gotten me to the location where you picked me up in that amount of time. Furthermore, I don’t remember anything from those three days.
In summation, the most dangerous ship in the Museican Navy is currently AWOL. It’s a small mercy that the Paker deck is now stored in the MA game room instead of the shipboard strongroom, but the Star’s absence is worrying enough.
(Ahh my. I remember these threads! Glad to see they’re still going wish I had time to join in!)
Oh! How can so much time have passed since my last post? My absence was not intentional.
Cook’s Account of the Travels of the Steadily Drying Ship Seahawk
Well! We are all quite worried at the moment. Prarilius has informed us that the good ship Star of Qurtv has gone missing. It seems that the ship had been under the grand admiral’s command when it was lost track of. Unfortunately, since the aforementioned grand admiral doesn’t remember even boarding the ship, we’ve a mystery. There might have been a mutiny, a hijacking, or something we cannot think of. Whatever happened, it seems that the blackguards set Prarilius adrift–or perhaps he escaped. We really don’t know anything.
Back to the Star: it has been agreed that we shall keep an eye out for anything regarding the missing ship. If we can get any information on it, we shall likely try to hunt it down.
There’s not much else to write, but I shall put down that I have made herb bread. We’re using it for sandwiches. Mine has Edam cheese and tomato slices–very, very, delicious.
This just in: Huzzah! Jubilation! We shall pull into the port of Dornob this very afternoon!
Assistant Scientist’s Log
We’ve reached Dornob! The city is blissfully warm after all of this cold – it’s built above a cave system with hot springs, and is heated geothermally. I am, however, very disturbed to hear Grand Admiral POSOC’s news of a missing ship. It apparently hasn’t been sighted in the three days since its disappearance, but ships the size of the Star of Qurtv don’t just vanish. I don’t know what could have happened to the Admiral’s memories, either. On a brighter note, although we didn’t find many animals on the island, Cerulean Pyros pointed out some color-changing algae. I’m still not sure why or how it behaves this way, but I’m preparing some experiments.
I must go now; we’re disembarking. I can’t wait to explore the city!
Assistant Scientist’s Log
Dornob has been tremendous fun so far. I took my first really good bath in ages, and bought a new microscope to replace one which had cracked from the cold. In my travels around the city, I also encountered members of a Psychologists’ Guild. They claim to be able to restore lost memories. Some of their practices look slightly questionable, but I’ll mention it to the Admiral anyway.