Herman's Revenge

"Town is 100% thralls, head mile down coast to rendezvous," Falka spoke the message into Safad's artificed stones.

She then turned back to her work of cutting open the fresh corpses of the eight innocent Stoningportians and filling them with stones on the deck of the stone sloop. A white and whimpering halfling looked on, tied up and with Ironica's dagger in his side. As Slothrop, Ironica, and Falka bent to their grisly task, they hummed merrily, and taunted the terrified stowaway whose named they had learned was Herman. Herman Quarterdeck, an arthritic halfling shipwright. That's all they learned before they bound and gagged him and got to work eviscerating his friends. 

Back on shore, Safad, Dala'gse, and Rya heard alarm bells in town and set off through coastal farmland for a good spot to wait for their brethren down the coast.

The stone sloop drifted down the River Chionthar, toward the Sea of Swords. As dawn approached, eight weighted-down bodies were dumped over the sloop's sides, disappearing beneath the water. Soon, the pirates emerged at the mouth of the river, and spotted a set of islands up ahead. Behind them, they could make out the masts of four sloops that had given chase. Falka, Slothrop, and Ironica maneuvered the ship around one of the island, casting an anchor on the seaward side. Ironica and Slothrop stayed with Herman while Falka stalked off into the islands scrubby brush, bow in hand, ready to hunt their pursuers.

Ironica pushed Herman off the boat and dragged him onto the shore where he lay gasping for air through his gag. She pulled it down.

"Please, fellow halfling miss, I don't know what you want, but I can be useful. Truth be told, I used to be a pirate meself, before I went straight. See, I was in Stoningport working off the debt I owed for acts of Piracy when I sailed with Mate McNish The Lark. I'm a shipwright by trade and I was just 200 gold short of paying off my crime. But I have skills and can help ye!" 

Ironica eyed the bloodied geezer. He was tanned, with deep lines in his skin and a wrinkly face. His hands were knobby and bent. He had a strange tattoo on his neck that she realized was the likeness of a magic missile. 

"Look," Herman continued, "I don't know where you're headed, and not to be disrespecting your capabilities, but I can tell the trio of yous aren't natural sailors. Handy with a blade I'll admit..."--at this Herman rubbed his side where Ironica's dagger had been--"...but working the rigging was a bit sloppy I'd say. You'll need someone to help, what with the storms this time of year, the rocks and your lack of charts, pirates out of the Mintarn, and o'course the sea spiders that get very active around now. Matter of fact, folk from the towns don't even do northward business in spring on account of all them. I know these things. So whaddya say?"

"I say, what if you're a thrall," and Ironica punched the man before thinking about a good illusion to cast. 

Falka, meanwhile, had eyes on the ships. They split up to attempt to find the pirates, two headed south and two headed north, with one poised to pass quite close to the southerly part of the island where Falka was hidden. 

Suddenly, she lurched out of the brush, affecting the melodrama of a terrified hostage as she waded through the waves, waving frantically at the ship. 

"Help! I just escaped, the pirates, they are around the island there!" 

"You're safe now, it's OK!" the crew of three townspeople called out to the elf damsel in distress. 

Too easy, Falka thought, as she brought her bow around to bear and picked them off before they could really put up a fight. But not before they could raise a strange sequence of bell rings. That makes 11 kills, she smiled. She commandeered the ship and brought it round to bear on the back side of the island. 

The other ships, seemingly triggered by the bell pattern, tacked and jibed their way toward their distressed (deceased) companions. Slothrop dangled over the side of the pirated ship. Ironica decided on a Beholder illusion, no--a flaming ship--no, both! The bells kept clanging but the ships turned back up toward the Chionthar and made haste back to Stoningport. 

The pirates boarded their vessel and trimmed sails to make their way back upriver to their companions. Er...trimmed the sails was maybe a stretch. They, tauted them? Pulled some ropes, anyway. Herman grimaced.

"Listen, kill me if you want, but I know you aren't seasoned sailors. Pirates, yes, but sailors? You need a fast trim and a hard tack right now and I'm the only one with the knowledge to get us maneuvering quickly. Besides, I was telling the halfling magician here about the spring storms, the pirates, the sea spiders, and the hidden rocks all along the sword coast..." Herman trailed off. 

"Fine, move then, halfling," Falka commanded. 

Herman jumped-to, quickly took command, politely asking his captors to adjust this sheet or that. The ship moved in ways they wouldn't expect, and they were halfway upriver in no time. They had arranged to meet their companions closer toward the mouth of the river -- Dala'gse had gone Dalactopus and trailed his two sorcerer friends along with him to meet the ship in the sea. 

Reunited, they set sail north, for Daggerford. 

"So, what happened?" Safad asked. 

Falka explained that the town was all thralls and would soon be chasing after them. They had managed to save this sailor, Herman, and he would help them head north. But no funny business! 

The crew settled in nicely, and Safad struck up a conversation with the old halfling, who, he was surprised to learn, was bleeding from a dagger wound in his side, wincing with every turn of the wheel. Before he could inquire about the wound, he noticed Herman's badass magic missile tattoo and complimented him on it. 

"Thanks, yeah, I used to be a pirate meself, and took magic missile to the kneecap in my youth when I was sailing with Mate McNish the Lark outta Mintarn. Bad business, but I recovered OK."

Falka interjected, "Well don't get any more pirate ideas, you're with us now and you have one job to do --get us up to Daggerford!"

"Yes, sir-madame. Will do. To Daggerford. I'll be very useful, what with navigating the storms and the rocks and knowing the pirates' predation routes." [Narrator: Herman conspicuously left out another mention of these so-called Sea Spiders]

The pirates and their captive settled in to an easy rhythm. Herman told them tales of his days at sea and his subsequent work in Stoningport. The more moral party members conveniently ignored they had kidnapped someone and forced him to do their bidding at knifepoint, and everyone got along. 

Herman even settled into his old sea-shanty singing. 

Welll Dale Selkirk was a silver-tongued lad--

I wish I was in Vilhon now!

He gathered up all the boys and I

Kissed my mum and love goodbyeeee

‘Lee take them all!

I was told we’d cruise the seas for Chultan gold

Board no ships and shed no tears

Now I’m a broken man on a Waterdeep pier

The last of Selkirk’s privateers

Down at the docks I saw the Squirrel--

I wish I was in Vilhon now!

It listed to the side and the sails looked lean

Twas the scummiest vessel I’d ever seen!

‘Lee take them all!

I was told we’d cruise the seas for Chultan gold

Board no ships and shed no tears

Now I’m a broken man on a Waterdeep pier

The last of Selkirk’s privateers

On the 59th day were sailing still--

I wish I was in Vilhon now!

When a bloody great Chult hauler hove in sight

And Selkirk cried “to arms, let’s fight!”

‘Lee take them all!

I was told we’d cruise the seas for Chultan gold

Board no ships and shed no tears

Now I’m a broken man on a Waterdeep pier

The last of Selkirk’s privateers

The hauler had a crew as mean as tar--

I wish I was in Vilhon now!

Selkirk was crushed like a bowl of eggs

And a wily Iluskan took off both me legs!

‘Lee take them all!

I was told we’d cruise the seas for Chultan gold

Board no ships and shed no tears

Now I’m a broken man on a Waterdeep pier

The last of Selkirk’s privateers

I guess this Herman was from the Vilhon Reach and knew a lengthy shanty. 

Herman successfully navigated his captors past hidden reefs, dangerous rocks, and under his steady hand they even survived a wild and primal storm that ravaged the ship for an entire night. But on the fifth day, Herman had his revenge. 

The sea was calm and Dalag'se had done some fishing. Ironica was roasting her striper over a conjured fire while Falka bit into hers raw in hybrid wolf form to remind Herman who was boss. Safad munched on some nuts he had squirreled away somewhere in his fancy robes. 

Herman was at the wheel. Around midday he began waxing philosophical. Safad perked right up.  

“People have underestimated me my entire life and for years I never understood why – it used to really bother me. But then one day, after I had squared off against a half-orc on deck and won, causing most of the crew to lose their bets, Mate McNish the Lark told the crew, ‘You all judged little Herman here by his size but knew nothing about him, and he just handed Bektek his ass! Be curious, men, not judgmental.’ And I liked that."

The party heard a thud, suddenly, against the hull of the ship. 

"And from that day on, it hit me – all those people that used to belittle me, not a single one of them was curious. You know, they thought they had everything figured out so they judged everything and they judged everyone. And I realized that their underestimating me – who I was had nothing to do with it. Because if they were curious they would have asked questions. Questions like, ‘Did you enjoy watching us carve up the bodies of your closest friends, Herman?’ or 'what are these sea spiders you keep mentioning?'"

Another thud rattled the ship in otherwise calm waters. 

Herman continued.

"And if you had asked those types of questions, I would have answered, 'No sir-madame, I did not enjoy watching you mutilate my friends. In fact I held it very much against you and decided to play along until I could lull you into a sense of complacency and take you to your deaths on the high seas. And those sea spiders? Yes they are very real, and they are very deadly, and I know just where they nest in spring.'"

Two more thuds blasted the bottom of the ship and the vessel slowed and began to groan under some kind of strain. At this point, all eyes were on Herman, who turned to his captors. 

"You killed some of my closest friends. They were parents, brothers and sisters, and partners. They were essential members of Stoningport, my home. This is the largest known nest of sea spiders on the Sword Coast, and four of the bastards--" the party heard yet another thud smack the hull, "--make that five of them, have latched on to the sloop,"  Herman spat as he took his hands off the ship's wheel and looked each of them dead in the eye. 

"Fuck you."

Herman dove overboard into the water, to what must be certain death in the nest of sea spiders. 

But Falka was too quick -- she had her bow up and an arrow through Herman's neck before he hit the water.

"Fuck you, Herman," she returned. 

The party peered anxiously overboard and into the depths, trying to assess their situation as the ship's joists creaked ominously.