WWLXII: Dead Men Do Tell Tales

[Brinniel]

It was th' crack 'o dawn 'n th' corsair ship Grey Gaurhoth stood ready to set sail. Cap'n Black Death Brinn was th' first to come on deck; she examined her ship, admirin' its beauty. It had be too long since Brinn had last sailed 'n she was anxious to return to th' sea as she waited fer her crew to arrive.

It wasn't long before her first matey Shark Tooth Shasta appeared. Th' pair greeted each other wit' a brief "Arrrr," 'n Shasta took his position at Cap'n Brinn's side. Th' next to arrive was th' quartermaster Lommy th' Infected.
"You aren't infected wit' anythin' contagious, be ye?" Cap'n Brinn asked before she stepped on deck.
"Uhhh...nay," Lommy replied wit' hesitation.
"Very well then. Welcome aboard," Cap'n Brinn said wit' a grunt.

Th' Bosun Slippery McCabbie Dagger made his appearance plenty early, ready to yell at some scurvy dogs. Almost-Blind Nerwen, th' sea artist, stumbled aboard, her tattered eye patch askew to reveal an empty eye socket. As she approached th' cap'n, Brinn could see her remainin' eye was slightly milky.
"Don't worry," Nerwen reassured. "I don't need sight to navigate 'tis ship. I be knowin' th' seven seas like th' back 'o me hand."
Th' pilot Gangrenous Inziladun Jones followed Nerwen, hobblin' on a newly fitted peg leg.
"What happened?" Black Death Brinn asked, pointin' at th' peg leg.
"What do ye think happened?" Inziladun Jones answered bitterly.

Puffy Shirt Rikae, th' cabin boy (or rather, cabin girl), eagerly hopped on deck. "Here I be cap'n, ready to serve," she said.
"Hmm...you look a wee bit barnacle-covered to be cabin boy. What's ye age?" Cap'n Brinn asked curiously.
"Umm...thirteen?" came th' reply.
"Hmph, well ye better lay off th' spiced rum then lassie, because ye certainly don't look thirteen. Be off on then." 'N Puffy Shirt Rikae scurried away.
Next, Snifflin' Mac Sparrow, th' ship cooper, walked on deck too busy wit' his nose buried in a hankie to greet th' rest 'o th' crew. He walked past Brinn, mutterin' somethin' she could not understand, as his words were muffled by th' hankie.

Th' surgeon High-Pitched Annu brought her own saw onto th' ship.
"Ahoy cap'n," she squeaked. "Are me services needed yet?"
"Nay," Black Death Brinn replied. Glancin' over at th' crew, she continued, "but I'm sure it won't be long before I'm gunna."
Th' solo carpenter Legless Sally Dawkins followed Annu carryin' a similar saw. She stepped on deck wit' an unusual grace considerin' she had no legs.

Th' gunner Boromir th' Malformed arrived wit' a great scowl on his malformed face.
"Where's th' other gunner?" Cap'n Brinn asked.
Boromir shrugged, "I dunno. Probably off smokin' his pipe somewhere I'll bet, that swab." Boromir gave a growl, then went on to his business.
Th' piper Poop Deck Kath stepped on th' poop deck, her pipe in hand. She was followed by Whinin' Eomer Bonny who was busy explainin' to Kath how he came by his violin.

Th' strikers Dancin' Mira Blythe 'n Ham-Hands Izzy already proved to do their jobs well as they brought wit' them a collection 'o dead turtles, birds, 'n plants. They dropped their hunt in front 'o Black Death Brinn wit' a great grin on their faces. As th' strikers walked off, th' cooks approached th' ship. Stutterin' Wilwa Scab 'n Short Ruth Mithril came to greet th' cap'n only to find a supply 'o in dead thin's thrusted in their faces.
"Better be off th' galley wit' ye," Cap'n Brinn grunted. "Me hearties gunna be plenty famished by supper 'n thar be a lot 'o grub to be fixed."

Th' powder monkeys were th' last to arrive. First came Cowerin' Gwath Dagger 'n behind him was Lil' Green th' Staggerin' Drunk, who almost staggered off th' plankway. They were followed by Stinkin' Eön Bloodbeard, who was lookin' rather lost.
"What be ye supposed to be doin'?" inquired Cap'n Brinn.
"Umm...I'm not sure," Eön Bloodbeard replied wit' a shrug.
"Well then, ye can join th' powder monkeys. Now ye be off!"

Cap'n Black Death Brinn looked around her ship to find a full crew. "Well, looks like everyone's here," she stated. "Forward ho we go."
But as they began to brin' up th' plankway, Nogrod th' Fashionably Late came runnin'. "Belay!" he cried out. "Wait fer me!" Pantin', he only barely made his way onboard.
"Fashionably late," Cap'n Brinn grumbled. "More like regrettably late. Consider yourself lucky if I'm generous be all I can take to spare ye from a lashin', ye hear?" she shouted at him.

'N now wit' all twenty-one hands on deck, they were ready to be off. Th' crew went to their posts 'n th' Grey Gaurhoth began to make its way off th' Haven 'o Umbar. As they guided th' ship in direction 'o th' sea, th' corsairs 'o course sang their favourite song:

Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me.
We pillage plunder, we rifle and loot.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
We kidnap and ravage and don't give a hoot.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.

Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me.
We extort and pilfer, we filch and sack.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
Maraud and embezzle and even highjack.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.

Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me.
We kindle and char and in flame and ignite.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
We burn up the city, we're really a fright.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.

We're rascals and scoundrels, we're villians and knaves.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
We're devils and black sheep, we're really bad eggs.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.

We're beggars and blighters and ne'er do-well cads,
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
Aye, but we're loved by our mommies and dads,
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
Yo ho, yo ho, a pirate's life for me.


The game has not started yet. No posting please.

[Brinniel]

Two weeks later....

Th' Grey Gaurhoth had sailed far 'n by now th' crew was well into their routine. Th' sea was calm, 'n so far thar had be no storms. Th' stench 'o sweat, dead rats, 'n other unpleasant thin's I'd rather not describe had already set in throughout th' ship. Th' corsairs were in jolly spirits as they sang 'n danced 'n drank their grog. They were well on course as they headed towards unknown lands to pillage 'n plunder; th' crew was rather anxious to find themselves some loot.

Unbeknownst to them, thar was a storm a' brewin'. Hidden away below in th' lowest level 'o th' ship, four corsairs discussed their dissatisfaction wit' how th' ship was bein' run. They wanted change 'n they wanted thin's to be run their way. 'N these corsairs would stop at nothin' to get what they wanted. Huddled together, th' four aggressors plotted 'n schemed. T'night they would take action. T'night thin's would finally change fer th' better.

Fer th' rest 'o th' crew, they had no idea what was in store fer them. Fer many 'o them, these aggressors' schemes would see them to Davy Jones.


The Living:

-Legless Sally Dawkins ~ Carpenter
-Puffy Shirt Rikae ~ Cabin Boy
-Pirate Lommy the Infected ~ Quartermaster
-Gangrenous Inziladun Jones ~ Pilot
-Pirate Boromir the Malformed ~ Gunner
-Stutterin’ Wilwa Scab ~ Cook
-Shark Tooth Shasta ~ First mate
-High-Pitched Annu ~ Surgeon
-Whinin’ Eomer Bonny ~ Musician (Pur-loined Violin)
-Snifflin’ Mac Sparrow ~ Cooper
-Almost-Blind Nerwen ~ Navigator/Sea Artist
-Lil' Green the Staggering Drunk ~ Powder Monkey
-Poop Deck Kath ~ Musician (Pipe)
-Cowerin' Gwath Slasher ~ Powder Monkey
-Pirate Nogrod the Fashionably Late ~ Gunner
-Slippery McCabbie Dagger ~ Boatswain
-Dancin' Mira Blythe ~ Striker
-Ham-Hands Izzy ~ Striker
-Short Ruth Mithril ~ Cook
-Stinkin' Eön Bloodbeard ~ Powder Monkey


Night has begun. Aggressors start plotting. Everyone else remain silent.

[Brinniel]

Th' crew rose early th' next mornin', expectin' a typical mornin' at sea. But th' fates would have it otherwise. On top 'o th' deck, they discovered their cap'n, or rather what remained 'o her. Poor Black Death Brinn had finally reached th' end 'o her luck. Th' encounter she had last nightfall was unfortunate 'n all thar was left to show was her head on a pike. Tacked on her forehead was a note which read, 'Tis be our ship now. Ye be threatened. Do not cross us or ye shall have a black spot on ye. 'An 'tis warnin' was followed wit':

We murder, we slaughter, we mangle and maul.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
We torment and butcher and watch our prey fall.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.

Yo ho, yo ho, a cutthroat’s life for me.
We abuse and harass, we smash and stab.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
Destroy and dispatch anyone we can grab.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.

Yo ho, yo ho, a cutthroat’s life for me.
We stifle and smother, we entice then stamp out.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
We’ll do everyone in, we're evil no doubt.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.

We're cold-blooded killers, we're baddies and foes.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
We're bloodthirsty werewolves, we're every gull’s woe.
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.

We're vicious and savage and don’t show compassion,
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
But even as hoodlums, we’ll do it in fashion,
Drink up me 'earties, yo ho.
Yo ho, yo ho, a cutthroat’s life for me.

"Oh no, they ruined our song," complained th' musicians Whinin' Eomer 'n Poop Deck Kath.
"Well now what be we supposed to do?" th' quartermaster Lommy th' Infected asked Shark Tooth Shasta.
"What be ye askin' me fer?" replied th' first matey. "I'm not th'- wait....shiver me timbers, I be now, aren't I?"
Everyone rolled their eyes at th' slow one.

Luckily, poor Shark Tooth Shasta didn't have to make any decisions as Black Death Brinn had not yet said her final words.
"Well, what ye all be waitin' fer?" said th' head on th' pike. "Avenge me, ye scurvy dogs!"

Followin' th' cap'n's orders, th' crew got busy. Th' days to come would certainly not be easy.


The Living:

-Legless Sally Dawkins ~ Carpenter
-Puffy Shirt Rikae ~ Cabin Boy
-Pirate Lommy the Infected ~ Quartermaster
-Gangrenous Inziladun Jones ~ Pilot
-Pirate Boromir the Malformed ~ Gunner
-Stutterin’ Wilwa Scab ~ Cook
-Shark Tooth Shasta ~ First mate
-High-Pitched Annu ~ Surgeon
-Whinin’ Eomer Bonny ~ Musician (Pur-loined Violin)
-Snifflin’ Mac Sparrow ~ Cooper
-Almost-Blind Nerwen ~ Navigator/Sea Artist
-Lil' Green the Staggering Drunk ~ Powder Monkey
-Poop Deck Kath ~ Musician (Pipe)
-Cowerin' Gwath Slasher ~ Powder Monkey
-Pirate Nogrod the Fashionably Late ~ Gunner
-Slippery McCabbie Dagger ~ Boatswain
-Dancin' Mira Blythe ~ Striker
-Ham-Hands Izzy ~ Striker
-Short Ruth Mithril ~ Cook
-Stinkin' Eön Bloodbeard ~ Powder Monkey


The Ghosted:

-Black Death Brinn ~ Captain (mod)


Day 1 has begun. Ye scallywags may now discuss.

[McCaber]

Aye then, it seems clear to me. When th' Captain meets Davy Jones, the First Mate gets the plunder, is the code of the seas. Now we've got a man with a motive and an opportunity. What more do ye need fer a verdict?

[Inziladun]

Yar. Loyalty be th' question here. What's the Cap'n done to deserve th' likes o' that? We has traitors in our midst. Them dogs be too treacherous even for pirates, says I. To th' sharks with th' lot o' em!

[Nerwen]

Originally Posted by Inziladun

We has traitors in our midst. Them dogs be too treacherous even for pirates, says I. To th' sharks with th' lot o' em!

An' how will ye be knowin' which o' the crew be guilty, ye fool of a gangrenous bilge rat?

(I'd roll me eyes, but... ye know how 'tis...)

[Shastanis Althreduin]

Originally Posted by McCaber

Aye then, it seems clear to me. When th' Captain meets Davy Jones, the First Mate gets the plunder, is the code of the seas. Now we've got a man with a motive and an opportunity. What more do ye need fer a verdict?

Arr. Never were there a more generous, beautiful, wild, free Cap'n as our Black Death Brinn, and for any lubber who thinks I had a hand 'n her trip to Davy Jones... bah, say I! Rubbish!

[Kath]

I must send me apologies, but I'll be in me cabin for a few hours yet ... apparently attempting to learn how to speak in pirate. All I seem to manage is vaguely west country! (RL: I'm out til 6.)

[Thinlómien]

@#¤%&!! I should've ben Lommy the Language-Handcap'd, not Lommy the Infected, fer me pirate English sucks. I can only say YARR! but then again, that might be just enough. I'll be observin' ye others carefully 'n' copyin' yer style.

What else? I have no bloody stinking infected idea who the baddies are, but we're here to discover it, nay? So, lemme start with me notes: McCaber - awful quick t' lick Shasta's [insert a censorship worthy word here]. Inziladun - awful quick t' start throwing people off board. Nerwen - awful quick t' condemn Inzie. Shasta - awful quick t' defend himself. Kath - awful quick t' be off. Suspicious lot, eh? Oh, forgot one: Lommy - awful quick t' draw conclusions.

But speak, ye silent 'uns! Yer quartermaster commands ye to.

[A Little Green]

Originally Posted by Th' infected 'un

But speak, ye silent 'uns! Yer quartermaster commands ye to.

Aye! What d'ye want me t' say? Th' ones that be guilty o' th' murder o' me cap'n oughta walk th' plank 'n' get acquainted with th' sharks!

[Nogrod]

Oh you language-abusin', tongue-festering, stutterin' exploiters of linguistic decency! You should all kiss the gunner's daughter! Now!

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

Originally Posted by Nogrod

Oh you language-abusin', tongue-festering, stutterin' exploiters of linguistic decency! You should all kiss the gunner's daughter! Now!

Yar, be this a comely lass Nogrod?

[Nerwen]

Be it quartermaster ye be orderin' to kiss th' gunner's daughter, ye swab? Ye'll keep a civil tongue in yer head when speakin' to yer betters, or I'll ha' it out wi' ye meself. I be still a fair hand wi' a dagger, even if me deadlights be not what they were.

Arr, this be a rum start. Who be Cap'n now? Be it Shark Tooth... or be it still Black Death? Be the head still livin'?

EDIT:X'd with Eomer.

[Boromir88]

Be it quartermaster ye be orderin' to kiss th' gunner's daughter, ye swab? Ye'll keep a civil tongue in yer head when speakin' to yer betters, or I'll ha' it out wi' ye meself. I be still a fair hand wi' a dagger, even if me deadlights be not what they were.~Nerwen

Betters huh? Ye best be watchin' who ye ar' talkin' to, ye haf-blind rapscallion. Aye, 'specially when we gunners can blast a' 8 inch hole in yer belly Gar.

But speak, ye silent 'uns! Yer quartermaster commands ye to.~Lommy

Ye be might' quick complainin' about yer weak pirate speak.

Arr, whar is the rum? A pence for a' old man Cap'n?

[Eönwë]

Yar indeed, me mateys (ar not, as the case meh' be). Tis crew be fallin' t' shambles ahlre'dy.

We shud be workin' together, nah tryin' ta kill t'others so quick.



PS. I be learnin' t' speak t' pirate way. It be takin' plenty o' time fer me t' get used t' writin' tis way.

[Eönwë]

Originally Posted by Boromir88

Aye, 'specially when we gunners can blast a' 8 inch hole in yer belly Gar.

Arr! But ye may be not gettin' t' powder if me, slasher n' t' drunk na' be givin' ye some.

[Nerwen]

Originally Posted by Boromir88

Betters huh? Ye best be watchin' who ye ar' talkin' to, ye haf-blind rapscallion. Aye, 'specially when we gunners can blast a' 8 inch hole in yer belly Gar.

Arr, ye be steerin' near the wind, ye malformed bilge-rat. I'll warrant I could take ye on, an' see the colour o' yer insides, blind or no.

'Tis a scurvy lay o' ye to be mockin' a respected sea artist wha' had lost more'n half her eyesight keepin' ships on course for the benefit o' dogs like ye.

Edit: X'd with Eönwë (twice).

[Brinniel]

Originally Posted by Almost-Blind Nerwen

Who be Cap'n now? Be it Shark Tooth... or be it still Black Death? Be the head still livin'?

I may be dead, but so long as I be shoutin', I be givin' th' orders. But me first matey can represent me physical form as it seems me body has be fed to th' fishes...

[Macalaure]

Ihr Landratten und Pfeffersäcke! Der Käpt'n is' tot un' was muss ich hier seh'n? 'N Hauf'n Möchtegern-Piraten die sich komische Worte um die Ohren hau'n. Wenn der alte Störtebeker noch am Leben wär, der würd' euch hier ma' zeigen wo's lang geht!

Was'n los? Was schaut ihr mich alle so an? Arrr, ok... I'll join in yar silly language...

Originally Posted by McCabbie Dagger

When th' Captain meets Davy Jones, the First Mate gets the plunder, is the code of the seas.

That's not how it goes among us Likedeelers. Equal share for ev'ryone! Maybe both the Bos'n and the First Mate shall walk th' plank?

Originally Posted by Lommy th' Infected

@#¤%&!! I should've ben Lommy the Language-Handcap'd, not Lommy the Infected, fer me pirate English sucks. I can only say YARR! but then again, that might be just enough. I'll be observin' ye others carefully 'n' copyin' yer style.

Aye that.

[Inziladun]

Originally Posted by Nerwen

An' how will ye be knowin' which o' the crew be guilty, ye fool of a gangrenous bilge rat?

(I'd roll me eyes, but... ye know how 'tis...)

Well o' course we don't be knowin' who th' guilty 'uns be just yet, but sniffin' out them bilge rats be now our task. O' course, there may be one or two o' ye who be approvin' o' the fate o' the Cap'n, thinkin' th' traitors'll be rewardin' ye. Looks like th' sharks be gettin' their fill for awhile.
I don't be knowin' the stinkin' curs just yet.
Shasta ha' the' most ta gain from Cap'n Brinn's demise, but doin' somethin' like that....he'd a had ta know we'd look to him straight off.
Quartermaster Lommy's come out givin' orders! Tryin' ta organize th' crew agin the threat, or feelin' us out fer words ta help th' cause o' her nerarious mates?
Ah, ye scurvy dogs. This lot'll take time ta' sort out.

[Rikae]

Arr! Mebbe you scrappy landlubbers could start talkn' about what we be tryin' t' do here, instead a' fightin' amongst yerselves, ye pack of pox-infested swine!

I be a' thinkin' fer instance, that even though th' cap'n (or somebody) sez tha we won't learn th' alignment o' the scurvy dog we force to walk the plank each day, there's one man among us who be th' exception to that rule, if yer catch my drift.

Now, on t' more pressin' matters. Why is the rum gone?

[Rikae]

Mac, I be willin' an' able t' translate fer ye, ef y' like. Here be a sample o' me work:

Ihr Landratten und Pfeffersäcke! Der Käpt'n is' tot un' was muss ich hier seh'n? 'N Hauf'n Möchtegern-Piraten die sich komische Worte um die Ohren hau'n. Wenn der alte Störtebeker noch am Leben wär, der würd' euch hier ma' zeigen wo's lang geht!

Was'n los? Was schaut ihr mich alle so an? Arrr, ok...

Ye landlubber n' peppersacks (?)! Yer cap'n be dead n' what do I see here? I'm a mutineer I'm a mutineer I'm a mutineer that be confusin' yer ears w' me stranga words! When th' old cap'n were still alive, he (she) would show ye that I'm a mutineer! String me up!

Wha' be this? Why be ye lookin' at me like that? Arr, ok... (I'm a mutineer)

[Nerwen]

Originally Posted by Rikae

I be a' thinkin' fer instance, that even though th' cap'n (or somebody) sez tha we won't learn th' alignment o' the scurvy dog we force to walk the plank each day, there's one man among us who be th' exception to that rule, if yer catch my drift.

Nay, ye'd best be explainin' yerself. I've heard now't o' that.

Originally Posted by Rikae

Now, on t' more pressin' matters. Why is the rum gone?

Rum? What need ha' a wee young lass like ye for rum?

[Nerwen]

Be Snifflin' Mac Sparrow confessin'?

[Rikae]

Originally Posted by Nerwen

Nay, ye'd best be explainin' yerself. I've heard now't o' that.

It's right thar in th' contract, me hearty,ef ye got' th' eyes t' see . Ye just ha' t' think on it apiece.

Originally Posted by Almost-Blind Nerwen

Rum? What need ha' a wee young lass like ye for rum?

I may be a lass, but wee I ain't.

Originally Posted by The Navigator

Be Snifflin' Mac Sparrow confessin'?

So it seems. What do ya have to say fer yerself, Snifflin' Mac?

[Mithalwen]

My mind is being gnawed by the cankering tooth of mystery. There is much to do today for a piratical maid-of-all -work in the galley so I do not have longto decipher the ramblings of my crewmates. few though they have been thus far. I shall see what may be done ere I go - or it will be nowt but ships' biscuit for supper...

[Kath]

Just have to say, I'm quite proud I understood three quarters of what Mac said! Even with Rikae's 'translation'.

I'd say I'm here and reading but, well, what is there to read? I'm kinda hoping all this fun pirate talk doesn't mean that's all we get on Day 1. Ooh get me, don't I sound like Nog! *shoots self*

Anyway, basically, I'm around.

[Shastanis Althreduin]

Arrr, avast, ye layabouts! It'll be gruel fer the lot o' ye if'n ye don't find the scurvy curs what did this ter Cap'n Brinn!

[Inziladun]

Looks like much o' th' crew still be hidin' in their beds. T'will be a bad business if we don't get one o' the dogs today.
Yar, I be thinkin' thar not be much t' go on right now. Guessin's not th' best way t' go, but could be all we c'n do if things dun't change.

[Rikae]

Enough chat. Somebody needs to get things rolling around here, says I.

++Inziladun

In th' interests of commencing with th' vengeance.

[Mithalwen]

Seems I must vote before some have spoken. Nogrod worries me with his obsession with the lash. And Lommie is quite bossy too hmm .

Actually I really don't feel confident voting today on this turn out

[Mirandir]

Avest me hearties and...such things. I'm going out again but I'll be back (hopefully) in a few hours.

[Annunfuiniel]

Shiver My Timbers, shiver My Soul/Yo Ho He Ho/There are men whos hearts as black as coal

And they sailed there ship across the ocean blue/A Blood thirsty captain and a cut throat crew./Its a darker tale as was ever told/Of a lust for treasure and a love of gold.../

Shiver My Timbers, Shiver my sides/Yo ho he ho/
There are hungers as strong as the winds and tides/Yo ho he ho/

And those bucaneers drowned there sins in rum,/The devil himself would have to call em scum!/Every man on board would have killed his mate for a bag of ginnys or a piece of eight, a piece of eight, a piece of eight…

Thar be a lot o' sense in those lyrics, aye! Fer th' grim fate o' our good ol' cap'n seems t' be havin' made ye all addled. Me saw be ready fer I deem 't be needed in nay time... Alas, if ye be dancin' with Jack Ketch o' walkin' the plank, me art be o' no use t' ye...

So, upon whom t' place th' Black Spot? Me mateys, I be havin' no clue...

[Boromir88]

Arr! What be we goin' t' do about the ghosts?

An' whar is that daft squiffy Nogrod? This be most unusual. An' whar be the res' of ye swine? Get t' work! Just because the Cap'n be dead does not mean ye can a'oid yer duties.

[Eomer of the Rohirrim]

Yar! I be needing to vote afore the main action is happening, I declare. Well, I'm at least going to aid in the inquisition by getting folk to start flinging more substantial verbal potshots.

I'm not sure about keeping Nogrod alive - this daughter of his interests me, naturally, so I'm wondering how she'll react to a slaughter that way.

Others have not caught my eye but let's choose one of them. Arr, how about Mirandir? What does 'avest' mean anyway?

++MIRANDIR

[Nogrod]

Blistering barnacles!

Oh you bunch o' scoundrels, jellyfish, troglodytes, toffee-noses, toads ,
carpet-sellers, iconoclasts, ectoplasms and freshwater swabs...

*Wait... a wee bit wrong genre*

Let's pick the guns matey if this ain't endin' soon!


But yeah. Fun but just too laborous for someone whose command of English is not even near the native-level. Sorry to spoil the party but I'm going to turn into a more commnish mode of speech - some "oh you scurvy dogs!" surely be included.

So what? Macalaure made a confession in German? He should know that quite many of us could read his text... A joke then, but from which alignment? I'd say cobbler's alignment at the moment.

And Rikae voted for Inziladun for no notified reason whatsoever (well, vengeance, but for what?)

Otherwise... well nothing's being actually said. Fun, right. But not too helpful.

I'm beginning to sound like me... *shoots self - following Kath's example*

[A Little Green]

Originally Posted by Boro

Arr, whar is the rum?

Originally Posted by Rikae

Now, on t' more pressin' matters. Why is the rum gone?

*burp*

Seriously, though, we need t' get serious wi' this if we want t' find th' scum that killed th' cap'n. Th' problem wi' th' likes o' me be that I don't know where t' start th' serious talk. Th' sole thing that comes to me mind is that I don't be likin' th' amount of sailors hidin' in their bunks. Whar be Sally? Izzy? Wilwa? Or me powder monkey -comrade Gwathy?

Originally Posted by Boro

Arr! What be we goin' t' do about the ghosts?

(Ye love th' word 'arr', don't ye?) Dunno if thar be much we can do about those. 'Tis a bit disturbin' that we don't be knowin' whether or not we made th' righ' person walk th' plank -'n' we won't be knowin' how many mutineers we still have amongst us either.


x-ed wi' th' fashionably late

[Annunfuiniel]

Originally Posted by Rikae

I be a' thinkin' fer instance, that even though th' cap'n (or somebody) sez tha we won't learn th' alignment o' the scurvy dog we force to walk the plank each day, there's one man among us who be th' exception to that rule, if yer catch my drift.

Ye be talkin' 'bout th' 'venger?

[Thinlómien]

This game's givin me more headache than me infection ever does - why dun ye mateys speak? 'Tis just all jolly ol' pirate talk and banterin 'round. Not good fer meh, 'tis already soon midnight here in me time zoney. (Th' deadline be 7am so dun expect me t' post anywhere neer it.)

Originally Posted by Noggey

You should all kiss the gunner's daughter!

Which un o' us?

Originally Posted by Zilly

Tryin' ta organize th' crew agin the threat, or feelin' us out fer words ta help th' cause o' her nerarious mates?

Yer all me shipmates, remember.

Originally Posted by Rik

Arr! Mebbe you scrappy landlubbers could start talkn' about what we be tryin' t' do here, instead a' fightin' amongst yerselves, ye pack of pox-infested swine!

Hey, 'tis me who's th' Infected 'un, not th' others!

An' is it just me and me non-existent skills in German, or does Rikae's translation seem a bit rot'n? Like, seems she invent'd a few o' "I'm a mutineer"s there, right-o?

Originally Posted by Green Grenade

Seriously, though, we need t' get serious wi' this if we want t' find th' scum that killed th' cap'n. Th' problem wi' th' likes o' me be that I don't know where t' start th' serious talk.

Aye! Arr! I can only start blamin' those who've ben 'round but haven't started talkin seriously - which's half o' th' crew!


edit: xed with Annu Olutkannu

[Thinlómien]

Just one more pointey fer ye t' consider - what abou' th' dead who do tell tales? Is there somethin special we have t' take into accountey considerin it? Well at least we have to be careful about th' dead talking 'cos they may be evil just as well as others and th' thing that's worryin me fer the moment is that we won' learn whether the guys we make walk the plank are evil or not so we're gonna be unable to draw any conclusions about stuff and we of course can't trust th' ghosts anymore than th' living - I tell ye, this is gonna be hard. Givin me headache, like I says already.