Pirate RP - Quest for the Snark

[Ikkin]

Ikkin put on a quick burst of speed as the White Weewoo finally came into sight in the harbor of Le Singe, and mentally berated herself one last time for not having gotten there sooner.

Well, it could be worse, she thought. If she'd actually been able to find the book she needed in the Mage Manor library, she wouldn't have been in Tabloid Town in the first place, and it would have taken her even longer to get there.

...if she even made it, she thought bitterly. She'd been having trouble sustaining the extended expenditure of magical power ever since the last time she'd been revived, and it was really starting to get to her. She'd hoped she could find something written about that kind of condition, so she could start to work past it.

But, finding the pirates came first. Ikkin knew that they had gotten themselves in the debt of a voodoo witch at the end of the last Guilds' War, though she didn't really know the details, and she'd wanted to be there when they went on whatever quest she sent them on for repayment.

She was kind of hoping that she could meet the witch herself, too, but it seemed like she hadn't gotten there quickly enough for that. The witch's magical signature - the very reason why she'd left her pursuit of knowledge to chase the Weewoo instead - had already left.

Well, she'd just have to let that go. Her friends needed her, and she was going to be there for them this time.

Ikkin wiped the sweat from her forehead as she reached the ship - flying had never felt so taxing - and let go of the wind magic surrounding her, landing in a crouch on the deck.

"Hey, guys. Did I miss all the fun?"

[Huntress]

"Oh, cap'm? Is the gunner position still open? I'd like to apply, if it is. Let me know."

Hunty paused on her doorway to think about it. "I've always said that we all have to know as much about it as possible but if you've picked up anything new during your stay with the Fleet, and you'd be a poor pirate if you haven't, then I'm all for letting you utilize your new skills. Let's give it a try the next time we need those cannons."

She remained lingering in the doorway listening to Zari's and Goosh's brief exchange, and scowled. "Bloody Mary, your opinion?"

"About the sleeping darts? Won't be a problem," said the meepit. "She can't shoot us all at the same time, and if she puts a dart in any of you, I'll bite her nose off. Not many people shoot anything after that." He craned his neck to look at a figure zipping through the clear morning sky. "Hey look, it's the flying foxwoman."

"Hey, guys. Did I miss all the fun?" Ikkin asked, landing on the deck.

Hunty smiled. Yes, you really could count on the pirates to always come back home, wherever they might have been wandering in the meantime.

"Not at all. We were just about to start with our bi-weekly Generate Wind Into The Sails To Make Us Go Faster event. Today's winner gets a hearty handshake and a kiss from Bloody Mary. Care to join?"

The meepit turned slowly to look at her. "The what now?"

((Time-skiiiiiiip =D Which also comes with a space-skip))

* * *

The Dunburrow border was perfect for defense against any sort of foreign invaders. With mountains in the north, a forest to the west and a steep cliff forming the southern coast, its only real accessible point was in the east, and that's where Mage Manor stood as a sentinel any invaders would've found very hard to pass. Really, I've no idea why I somehow rewrote half the knight guild canon to be more favorable to them.

The cliff that formed the coastline, however, only stretched over the western half of the kingdom. On the eastern side, opposite to Mage Manor, it gradually lowered into a sandy beach and that's where the Weewoo eventually docked after a fairly eventless journey, apart from a little run-in with a ghost ship and the incident with the floating melon island.

"Okay, boys, once more for the cheap seats," Hunty said, settling down more comfortably on the blarf's furry head - the ship did have two lifeboats they could've used to get to the shore but they were a bit of a hassle to operate as opposed to just letting the blarf cart them back and forth. "We need to consult with the Mage Manor library if we want to get anywhere with this quest, and the Manor only lets in people with good intentions, so please no plotting to set them on fire, okay?" She paused. "It's eight miles away. I think we should just ride the blarf there."

"The distance didn't bother you the last time we were here," Bloody Mary pointed out.

"Yeah, because we needed the blarf to watch the ship. She can watch herself now. Come on, guys, get down here and let's go."

A short while later, a lumberjack had just sat down for his seventh booze break of the day when a rumble farther away in the forest caught his attention and he staggered over into the bushes to see what it was about and whether there was perhaps moonshine involved. Instead he saw a house-sized furry black creature amble along in the rather complicated pace that six paws create by default, all thick tentacles pointing upwards and ahead to push branches aside. Human, or at least vaguely humanoid figures were sitting on its back and somewhere from its general vicinity came a small yet oddly powerful hoarse voice that sang, apparently at the top of its lungs, "Wooooooah, we're halfway thee-ere, oooo-oh! livin' on a prayer..."

Unbeknownst to the pirates, their journey to Mage Manor that day managed, in its small way, to make the world a slightly better place for at least one family and its neighbors when their lumberjack daddy came home that day stone sober and announced that he'd sworn off alcohol for life, a decision that he also stuck to from that day forth, living a hard-working, pious life and finally being elected village elder twenty years later, a position he held for another twenty years being loved by all until he eventually died of buffaloes.

"Will you stop that?" Hunty asked Bloody Mary, lying on her side on the blarf's head because there was plenty of room to go around.

"-take my hand, we'll make it I sweee- why? I'm not hurting anyone."

"These are enemy grounds," said the captain.

"Yeah, so I'll let them know to keep away," said the meepit. "The knights wouldn't really stand too big a chance against the blarf, mind you. And we always got along with the mages."

[Zylaa]

"-sweee-ear. Oooo-OH! Liiivin' on a prayer! Liiiivin' on a--" It was at this point that Zylaa realized that Bloody Mary had stopped singing and fell silent, looking sheepish.

"These are enemy grounds," Hunty was saying.

"We're coming in peace," Zylaa pointed out cheerfully. "As you advised, I'm not planning to set fire to the Manor. Or Dunburrow. And we helped save the world, surely that allows us some goodwill." She was quite enjoying this trip. Riding on the Blarf was fun, when she got used to it, and trundling through the forest was a nice change of pace from the seas and port towns. I mean, not like she was any sort of landlubber, but variety is the spice of life and all.

She was trying to ignore the nearing visit to the Manor. Such a concentration of magic was unsettling even without the added tension of Mages and Pirates. Still, Ikkin was here now! And Ikkin was an awesome person as well as a mage. That was bound to smooth the way.

"What do we do now that we can't sing?" she sighed, a question to everyone in the vicinity, but specifically directed at Goosh, who was perched by the spike right next to her.

[Goosh]

As power chords faded from his mind's ear, Goosh considered Zylaa's question.

"We could play a game," he said, watching the blarf's tentacles idly snatch berries off a nearby bush as it lumbered past. "I spy, with my little eye, something that starts with--Mage Manor."

Goosh had lost track of time somewhere in the middle of Bohemian Rhapsody, when Bloody Mary had insisted that the next bit went something like, "Scaramouche, scaramouche, scaramouche, scaramouche, scaramouuuuuuche!" He hadn't realized how close they had gotten already.

The Manor, a building that was more or less neutral, somehow managed a fairly ominous loom as they approached across the front lawn. Goosh wasn't especially eager to hunt down information on the Snark. He found he didn't trust buildings with such unreliable architecture. It was dishonest. But he figured he probably couldn't get into too much trouble with the rest of the pirates here to back him up.

Of course, that's what he had thought at the Spacefleet base, and now he had the ability to look like cheap tinsel whenever he wanted.

The guardians, this time in the shape of stone unicorns, watched the pirates approach.

"Hey," one of them said to the other.

"Eh?"

"Someone approaches, though whether they be friend or foe is beyond my ken."

The second unicorn squinted. "That's great. Call me if someone interesting shows up."

The first one snorted. "You don't take this job seriously enough."

[Speck]

Speck held onto the Blarf with one hand, as tight as she could, while her other hand was busy taking notes on pad that was held by her knees. With the jostling of the ride, her handwriting was barely legible, but that hardly mattered. She had a clear idea of what sorts of additions she wanted to make to their on-board artillery. Living in Spacefleet had, indeed, had its advantages. While she hadn't been allowed anywhere near their firearms, she at least saw what they could do. Imagination was a powerful tool.

After finishing her duties, she had practically run to the gun deck to take inventory. She counted gunpowder, she counted cannon balls, she counted ramrods, fuses... she counted anything that she could see. Now, as the crew rode bareback on the Blarf, she was calculating costs. She had been informed that they didn't have a whole lot of money to spend, so she would have to take some out of her personal savings.

As they bounded closer and closer to Mage Manor, she only wished that she could research to her heart's content in their library, and travel to Tabloid Town for her supplies. Tabloid Town was not the end-all-be-all when it came to resources, but it was close enough. It was a shame that the Manor wasn't planted within 5 miles of that big, smelly, glorious city.

The Blarf jostled them a little more. Speck wondered if the ride had been this bumpy the first time she had ridden on the furry monster. She honestly couldn't remember - either because she had been too focussed on fending off enemies in pursuit, or she had completely blocked it from her memory.

[zarikrahia]

Zari lurched unsteadily sideways and then righted herself, staring at the Manor up ahead with some interest. She had only been to the Manor once, during the second Guild War, and she hadn't had the chance to look around very much. It looked like an interesting place.

She shifted uneasily, watching the ground pass by under the Blarf's paws. She still didn't feel quite comfortable on the Weewoo or around the Pirates, but she hadn't caused any property damage or injured herself, and the prospect of visiting the Manor was an interesting one, especially since she herself had magic, although she'd never bothered training it as a primary weapon and instead used it to do things like tidy her lab and light bunsen burners.

Adjusting her visor, Zari peered into the distance, absentmindedly reading the various facts and figures that popped up on the readout on the far right of her vision and humming to herself. The visor was a useful piece of technology that enabled more efficient use of her wristcompy, but when she'd first recieved it the double vision needed to both look at the display and at what was physically in front of her had made her rather queasy.

[Deleted]

The first time she'd been on the Blarf, Nasue had been a small, adorable, talking blue-furred critter who probably got on the crew out of the sheer "cute and helpless" factor. Now she was a human-sized humanoid who stayed on the crew for some seriously complicated reasons.

But regardless, here she was, Blarf-riding again. And it was as jolty and uncomfortable as ever. For pretty much the whole trip she'd been half-tempted to just excuse herself and try walking to Mage Manor... which would have worked except she had no idea where it was. The rest of the crew knew this world better than she did, anyway.

They could've done some less singing, though. Even if it did lead her to vocally belt out the melody of a guitar solo.

In any case, they seemed to be approaching the Manor now. With a grunt Nasue went from slouching to crouching, then had a look at the building ahead. The Mages' place...

Hope they aren't too unfriendly.

...why do I feel weird?

"So, uh, how do we get in? Do we just ask? Check in our weapons at the door or something?" Pause. Ear twitch. "It'd be kinda hard to check in claws. Or teeth. Maybe they'd want us to check in the Blarf or something. Yeah, my jokes are bad. I know.

"But come to think of it... what are we gonna do with this guy?"


Elsewhere, a pair of eyes watched.

[Speck]

"As long as we don't proove to be threatening the Manor or the things in the Manor, we should be good," Speck looked up from her notes at the humanoid coati.

"And the Blarf can sit and stay, just like any other pet. He's a big ol' softie," She pet a spot of the furry giant, feeling the tough, leathery skin underneath the Blarf's shaggy fur, "... at heart, anyway. So long as he's not hungry, too."

She paid attention to her notes once more, reviewing her price estimates.

[Strife]

SUBCOMMANDER HAGGOTH
SECURITY CHIEF'S LOG

ENTRY 78

"I had the weirdest dream last night. More like a nightmare, really. Something about being tormented by a little gold furball in a jungle... and I was naked and had four legs, and my arms were missing. Go figure.

This is the first nightmare I remember having in years, so I contacted Chief Medic Leoness for an analysis. She diagnosed me with dangerously high stress levels and ordered me to take a week's vacation. I protested, but you can't argue with a Doc's orders.

I can't believe this. Me, too stressed to work? I don't feel any different than I did a few days ago. Although it would explain my sudden craving for glaciated cake... Regardless, they're Doc's orders. I've already assigned Subcommander Mark to act as security chief while I'm away. Should be stopping by later this evening for general briefing.

Still no word o-"

Haggoth's stubby ear caught the sound of a high-pitched beeping noise behind him. It was an incoming message from his communicator.

"Computer, pause," he sighed.

The voice-activated journal blipped twice in acknowledgement. Haggoth gripped the far end of his desk and pulled, allowing the chair he was in to gracefully slide to the other end of the room where his communicator rested. He snatched it with his beefy hand and pressed it to his ear.

"Chief of Security," he huffed.

"Sir," began the static-y voice on the other end, "We ran a DNA scan of the control panel as you requested. Test results turned up positive for Captain Huntress of the White Weewoo."

Haggoth's eye twitched. Finally, he learned who had hijacked and nearly destroyed his personal spacecraft during the Underdeep crisis. He wasn't exactly surprised that the leader of the Pirates was responsible, especially with her connection to the Commander.

Speaking of which, he was most likely the best person to inform of this fact.

"Sir?" inquired the voice.

"Get me the Commander," snorted Haggoth.

"Yes Sir."

Several minutes passed. Haggoth drummed his thick fingers on the table while letting out a long, quiet sigh.

"Sir, I've been informed that Commander Fraze is on diplomatic affairs, and he requests not to be disturbed except with matters of emergency."

"This i-" Haggoth hesistated for a moment in thought. "Urf, nevermind. Thanks."

"Not a problem, Sir."

Haggoth set the communicator on the table rather irritably, closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead hard for a few seconds. What was the deal with the Commander and the Pirate Captain, anyhow? He knew there was some sort of relationship between the two. What he didn't understand, of course, was how they were allowed to slip through security so effortlessly - to steal the Chief of Security's personal spacecraft no less. This was most likely an issue he'd have to settle himself... or, wait, didn't one of his officers already inform him of this a few days ago?

Just now, Haggoth realized how much stress he was suffering from. He'd kept himself cooped up in his office for far too long, and any information he'd been getting was whizzing past his head.

The Chief Medic was right. He needed a vacation.

After careful thought, a lightbulb went off in Haggoth's mind. What if he spent his vacation with the Pirates? It sounded like a crazy idea, sure... but seeing how they were officially allies of Spacefleet, tagging along with them for a while would only benefit the relations between the two guilds. It pays to know your allies like the back of your sweaty hand, he figured. He'd deal with Captain Huntress' actions eventually.

Another thing crossed his mind... when had he traveled to the surface just to relax? Never. He hadn't truly relaxed since he was at the mud plazas back in Delta Hogwarts XVII. Granted, Spacefleet could probably arrange to get him transferred to a hotel on the surface, but he wasn't keen on the idea of slouching in a chair for a week and doing nothing. He needed to keep himself active, especially if he planned on losing the extra pounds he piled up from all of that glaciated cake.

His mind was set. Vacation with the swashbucklers it was.

Another push, and Haggoth sent his chair sailing to the opposite corner of the room. He swiveled around, facing a computer terminal on the wall, and began to search the personnel database for any officers that might be keeping an eye on the pirates.

Eventually, he stumbled upon a parole officer by the name of Exon Larxex, who was assigned to look after a pirate hacker by the name of Speck. Log entries indicated, however, that he had been replaced on account of laxative overdose. Another hyperlink later, and he found exactly who he was looking for.

* * *

"Professor Ailden," Haggoth snorted into the communicator, "This is the Chief of Security! I'm closing in on your position and will be landing in 3.2 minutes. Inform the pirates to clear a landing space, or else!"

[zarikrahia]

Zari nearly fell off the Blarf in sheer surprise. "WHAT? Can't you find a clearing somewhere nearby?" she yelled, her eyes wide. "This is the second time someone's done something like this without giving me any notice at all... No offence sir, but you've got to give people more warning than this. I'll warn the pirates, but they ain't gonna be happy with me!"

Zari closed communication and shook her head, seething. First the mission itself, now this? Normally, she had no difficulty keeping her temper, but it was with her ears flattened against her head and her pupils narrowed to angry slits that she turned back to the Pirates.

"One of the higher-ups has decided he wants to join the party." she said, as angrily as she felt. "We're going to need to clear a space for him to land. Much as I love Spacefleet, the Security division are a rather gung-ho bunch and they have no grasp of diplomacy. It's not like you guys wanted a Spacefleet officer shadowing you anyway...can't imagine why he wants to come down here anyway other than to make everyone else uncomfortable..."

[Fraze]

Ten days.

Ten days of diplomatic discussions.

Ten days of going over the same debates time and again, of listening to firsthand reports and secondhand reports and senile thirdhand ramblings. Ten days trying to convince some of the planet's most important leaders that no, Spacefleet did not intentionally attack the surface, neither did it try to commit genocide against the citizens of the planet.
This was all well and good for the other Spacefleet dignitaries who came to the council held in the Tabloid Town Center. They had been trained in diplomacy, ambassadorification, tact, interplanetary politics. Fraze, on the other hand, had picked it all up while acting as what amounted to an elite bodyguard for various ambassadors. While he had picked up enough to be a better diplomat than the vast majority of people, he still could only barely navigate discussions as touchy as these. A few quick mental estimations told him he had spent about one hundred hours of the past week and a half in a lavishly decorated room of Town Hall filled with seething officials screaming for his public execution. He had managed to convince them that the slaughter in HQ was an act of sabotage and firing on Tabloid Town was something he had not anticipated, but they still did not trust him. Or Spacefleet.
But finally, the thing had ended. While he was relatively well-rested, he nonetheless felt exhausted.
Fraze and his small entourage--he felt a pang of guilt at thinking of them like this, but there was no better description--finally arrived at the planetside spaceport outside of Tabloid Town. Ducking into a bathroom, he changed out of his dress uniform and into casual clothes. The 'Fleet could run itself for a few days, and he had a bit of vacation time saved anyway. Being the Commander, he could declare vacations for himself at any time, but still preferred to do things more officially. Most of the time.

It wasn't easy finding someone to take over his mundane duties. He had to use his Commander Voice. This is a lot like a Stern Parent Voice but more official sounding. Fraze was certain that the Commander Voice tapped into some primal fear that one was going to go to Time Out if one didn't do exactly as the voice said.

Finding a place to vacation, on the other hand, would be slightly more difficult. He had an automated program in the satellite-based Planet Monitoring System¹ that had been searching for any white wooden ships. It found a match after just a few hours, a testament to the program's efficiency.
Of course, it then found half a dozen other matches. Then fifty more. When Fraze realized most of them were dinghies, he narrowed the search criteria. Finally, he found the one he was looking for.
Getting there wouldn't be a problem. Getting onboard might be more difficult. He "borrowed" a spacebike--abuse of executive power was a wonderful thing sometimes--and set off in the direction of the Weewoo. The satellite system told him...
...that the whole crew was heading toward Mage Manor on the blarf.
Huh.
He was going at a good clip now, fast enough that the wind barrier was activated. Something small sat on his shoulder, almost hidden in the crook of his neck. From a distance, might have been mistaken for a black bee. It was a security drone, which was much less imposing than a gun or other weapon despite being just as dangerous. He had a small plasma pistol in a holster--a necessary thing for anyone of his rank and level of public visibility. On his back was a small pack carrying his dress suit, money, and some emergency supplies. Fraze was going on a vacation if it killed him.

Finally, the merry crew was within sight. As was an approaching ship, which he identified as Haggoth's. He saw awkward moments on the horizon, but pressed on nonetheless.

He slowed to blarfspeed five meters behind the trundling beast. "Request permission to board?" he called.

¹Despite being an incredibly useful system, it lived in eternal shame², due to being the butt of countless jokes about its acronym.

²Or it would have lived in shame if it hadn't been, you know, a nonsentient computer program. It's probably happier that way. Or would be if it had the capacity for happiness. Or something. I'm confused now.

[Huntress]

Upon hearing the news, Hunty rolled onto her back and remained staring at the clear blue sky. Nothing could be seen in it yet but she knew how fast the Fleet's ships flew.

"I am so glad that we don't plan to do anything illegal on this mission," she said earnestly.

"For all we know," Bloody Mary pointed out. "Who's to say that this snark isn't some kind of a new drug? They tend to have funny names."

Hunty breathed in with a hiss. "Good gods, I hope not. Well, the blarf can only move so much in these woods so if he can't find a place to land, there isn't a whole lot we can do about it but there's a clearing in front of the Manor. I suppose we don't like diplomacy any more than he does, so we might even get along." She swung one leg over the other and grinned slightly at the sky. "Guess that's what we get from this alliance. It's a two-way street, guys. We get to fly up there and muck about with their library books and commandeer their ships whenever we see fit without getting shot on spot, and in return they get to fly down here and help us out with the deckswabbing and dishwashing and the starboard braces-"

"Request permission to board?"

Woah. What were the odds?

"-whenever they see fit," Hunty finished, sitting up and brightening up considerably. "Oh hey, you're alive? Last I heard, you were going to be sacrificed to the volcano gods or whichever the deity of choice is in the world governments these days. Step right up, I think we'll soon have enough people to open a golf club."

Bloody Mary greeted Fraze with one of his usual I-still-don't-really-like you glares that were admittedly getting rather halfhearted these days.

"Yanno, Hunty, I've been thinking," he said. "If we got the Weewoo graded with five stars, we could charge 'em all five thousand per night for staying with us. Lots of fresh air, sporting facilities, free tours in the tropics, three exotic meals a day, it'd be totally plausible. How about it? I know a guy."

The captain grabbed the blarf's fur to stay on his back as the beast reached the Manor's front door, stopped with a jolt and squatted down in his usual sphinx-y way. "Exotic meals? Since when?"

"Every time Joe cooks, it's exotic," said the meepit. "Remember that vegetarian stew that tasted like curry? That was pork and taters."

The stone unicorns watched the colorful gang on their front lawn with apparent curiosity. Hunty climbed down from the blarf and adjusted the crossbow-quiver-system on her back.

"Been a while," she admitted. "Last time we were here, weapons weren't a problem, not like anything we could throw their way would be a match for the Manor itself. You just say put here, atta boy."

"Blarp."

The captain turned to eye the Manor's ominous facade, which seemed to eye her back.

"Uh, hello?" she ventured. "We need to visit your library."

[Ikkin]

Nothing could have driven home the amount that Ikkin had missed more than the Commander of Spacefleet himself flying up behind the Pirates' adventuring party and talking to Cap'n Hunty like an old friend.

She'd known that there was something going on between them intellectually, of course, but it still just felt really weird, especially after everything else that had been going on with Spacefleet today.

In any case, Ikkin didn't really want to risk interacting with the Commander of Spacefleet right now. Too many weird feelings from the last Guilds' War there, even if she knew that it wasn't really his fault.

So, she turned to the unicorn guards of Mage Manor instead.

"Don't mind them," she said. "They're all with me. Don't mind the weapons; we're just here for research."

The two unicorns looked at each other, looking unconvinced. "I don't know if I believe them," one said to the other.

"She's one of us. Do you really want to argue with her?"

The other paused for a minute. "Nah, it's not worth it. Go on ahead."

"Thanks," Ikkin said to the guards, then turned to the Cap'n. "I can lead us in, if you don't mind. The layout of the Manor is kind of... eccentric if you don't know how to navigate it."

[Zylaa]

Zylaa was somewhat concerned with this new influx of people. Fraze was alright, she supposed. He and the Captain's... friendly... relationship made him like an extension of the crew, in a way. And crew with divided guild loyalties came with the territory. Case in point, Ikkin, who was a very handy person to have around right about now. But this higher-up from Spacefleet... who even were the higher-ups? And what were they like? The only ones she knew were either pro-pirates (Keng, Fraze) or had tried to destroy the world. Even if you took the average of the three, you still ended up with at least a sociopath.

Zylaa didn't remember the unicorns on guard being this chatty, but supposed they had to find something to do to amuse themselves. Or maybe they didn't? Magic was weird like that, and she had never pretended to understand it. Just to exploit it when possible.

"I can lead us in, if you don't mind. The layout of the Manor is kind of... eccentric if you don't know how to navigate it."

"That's putting it mildly," said Zylaa. During the second war she'd ended up in the middle of the library with absolutely no idea how she'd gotten there. Mage Manor was weird. Of course, having lived on a ship with its own sentient Mist for a year had softened Zylaa's attitude towards the idea of a thinking, magical home. Still, the Manor had more experience in dealing with things. Like intruders.

Zylaa realized she was absentmindedly rubbing the spoon in her pocket and quickly moved her hand away, in case the manor saw that as an act of aggression. The weasels were on the ship at the moment, but they were always on call, in a manner of speaking.

[Kengplant]

"Well Commander, it's about time we ran into each other. Ever since that accident with the bike one of us always seems to be away. I've yet to get a chance to thank you for negotiating that time travel rescue party. I owe you one for that. A rather big one actually. I don't suppose having given the world the gift of postal service is enough though? Nah, didn't think so. Funny that we should meet up here of all places though."

Keng had left Muskoka back on the ship. Now didn't seem like the time to give a bear blarf back riding lessons.