"This has been lovely, Captain," Renna smirked as she brushed the tip of the captain's own sword against his throat while her companions helped themselves to the pirates' recent loot. Too bad they'd celebrated by getting drunk and blabbing about their new found wealth all over this port town. Really, they were just asking for someone to try to take it from them. Why shouldn't it be her and her friends? "We should really do it again sometime."

"Now... against that mast, please," she directed, intending to have them bound there while her merry little company made a clean get away. Maybe they'd even alert the authorities to the whereabouts of the pirate vessel once they were far enough away.

Sounds rly interesting

A small, leaky skiff pulled up along side the boat, the man aboard having little knowledge of either the treasure, or robbery, going on aboard. He had just seen the ship not moving and, lacking a real ship himself at the moment, felt it his sworn duty to see if he could liberate these fools of theirs. He listened to the muffled speaking figuring there'd be no more than 2 on deck - now, this oversight and lack of awareness can likely be blamed on the not inconsiderable amount of rum he'd ingested as he pulled up, hoping to steady his hand, as it were.
The effect was the same no matter how he missed it, and that was him being surprised as he leaped on deck, sword in one hand pistol in the other, only to see a much larger group than he anticipated.
"Alright, this it what we call....a..." His fearsome shout dwindled into nothing as the scene registered in his mind.
"...Holdup."
Oh, crap.

Renna's eyes shifted back and forth between the pirates still on their knees and this new potential threat. Or possibly ally.

She decided to try for the latter. "A little late, chap. But there's a lot to go around if you help us."

"A chest of gold to you, man, if you shoot this wench," the pirate captain called out, upping the ante.

In the captain's cabin, the thick covers shifted and a pale hand slipped into the moonlight pouring through the vessel's windows. A groan followed and the pile of covers moved and were thrust aside. An elven woman, golden tresses touseled, sat up and revealed her naked torso.
She peered about with azure eyes, then splayed her fingers across the gold chains about her neck that she had borrowed from the recent haul. Her captain was gone, leaving her alone in the large bed.

Rising, she pulled on a sheer robe and padded softly out of the room, across the short common space and past the staircase leading down below decks to the door of the forecastle. She then opened that door and stepped out onto the deck-

The elven woman stood gaping, frozen in tableau, her golden tresses hanging mostly over one bare shoulder being run through by slender onyx painted fingernails. Her other hand lay open the door's latch. Her robe was partially open, one breast fully exposed beneath the golden chains she'd been caressing for she had not expected company and especially not of this ilk. Onyx stones hung from her short golden chains pinned to her lobeless pointed ears. What greeted her was a total shock. Her captain was on his knees next to the first mate. There were others standing about. Some sort of impasse. Weapons pointed in various directions. Pirate hunters?

The man stood silent for a moment, the gears turning in his drunken mind as he took in the situation before him. His eyes flickered from the gold, to those holding weapons, and flickered past rennas chest, before settling on the prisoners.
He raised the gun in his hand and pointed it as steadily as he could, before spouting more utter bullshit than he had in his life.
It really was a fair bit of treasure.
"Ha! You must have me confused, young lady, with one of your run of the mill ruffians!" He put on a fake, spanish accent and grinned roguishly, adopting a swagger as he paced along the deck, his sword tracing circles in the air.
"My name is Lorenzo De Valencio, the most renowned, the most feared, the most talented swordsman this side of pacific!"
It wasn't the first time he'd pretended to be a living legend to bluff his way out of things, he just hoped he didn't make a mistake in who he chose. His sword skills were a bit lack luster, and if one of the crew in front of him tried anything, there was no guarantee he'd survive.
Eyeing the woman he assumed was the captain, he winked.
"Why should I take a pittance from you, when I can take it all. I'll leave a few coins for you, out of kindness."

"Can I lay down? I've got arthritis." Barnaby Mop pointed to his swollen knees, staring at his captors like a sick puppy.

He felt the Captain's one good eye lasering at him but he didn't care. The fat dwarf never cares.

"I'm just going to do it. I'm sorry. I can't deal with all this kneeling for long periods of time. Honestly Captain, I don't know how that elven lady does it with you. I'm going to lay down. You can stab me for all I care, my little bastards can cash in on my life insurance, but I just can't anymore." His belly drooped out from his half-torn jerkin as he laid next to the mast on his backside. The pirate bard's lazy eyes drew inspiration from the stars that looked like a peculiar fruit and began to sing the song of his people.



His voice cracked at the last verse. Barnaby broke into tears but still kept humming the tune like a sad, giant baby. Finally, the mermaid mushrooms were kicking in.

"Lorenzo De Valencio...?" Doubt flickered across Renna's features at the well renowned name and she eyed the pistol pointed at her uneasily. If this was really the famous swordsman, was she willing to risk gaining him as an enemy? He was obviously drunk though... would he even remember what she looked like come morning?

"Loren De Crap? Never heard of him..." said Abarat, the elf carrying the large chest. Of course, the pistol wasn't pointed at his chest.

The dwarf suddenly got out of the prisoner line. This was getting out of hand on her... fast.

Barnaby resurfaced back to reality, sobered (momentarily) by the discussion taking place on deck.

"Lereau De Creau, you say?" The dwarf rolled himself into a ball and rocked back and forth. The momentum lifted Barnaby off from his back and onto his feet. He groaned as if rising from the shitter, his arthritic joints crackled like boots walking on pebbled shores. After gathering himself from the abrupt shift in movement, he stood upright, then belched:

"Attendees, we've ourselves the Scarlet Swordsman of the South!" Barnaby pointed at the man. "Why, he once slayed an entire company of privateers with but a fish hook!"

The psychedelic mushrooms kicked in once more as the floor boards started fluctuating in shape and size, the moon up above now radiating a vibrant spectrum of colors. "Good Goddess, Maletria, the Moon is a rainbow!" Barnaby danced as lithely as a wounded gazelle, unaware that the ship's marauders were in the path of his spirited jig. "Lereau De Creau, save us from peril!"

He eyed the male elf coldly, getting into the the role he provided himself. He slowly turned towards the man, keeping his pistol trained on the woman.
"Hows about you stop moving, you slackjawed twat? Set my gold down, while youre at it." He smirked as the dwarf spoke, briefly turning his attention away.
"Well, it was a rather large fish hook. And saying they were privateers is an insult. Couldn't tell their asses from their cocks."
He turned back to the elf with the chest.
"Now put that down, lest you want a demonstration, boy. I'll enjoy it more than you, that I can promise."
I hope, He thought to himself.

Abarat paused his stride, but kept hold of the chest while he considered the man. "Think he can carry a chest and shoot a pistol at the same time, Renna?"

Renna's mouth gaped open. Had he really just told Lorenzo De Valencio her name?! Idiot. "I don't know... Abarat," she said, emphasizing the other elf's name. "I think I'd rather not find out..."

His eyes narrowed and he hesitated, then set the trunk down, slowly. Meanwhile, the 3rd of their little group was also setting down his loot... a large keg of rum. His hand headed toward the hilt of his sword.

His eyes flicked between the two elves, squinting at the exchange. Maybe he could use that. Leaning back on the railing of the ship in as relaxed a pose he could manage, not noticing the action of the third crew member, and gestured vaguely towards the Dwarf.
"You, ya creaky bag of swill and piss, fetch that chest over here for me. Quickly now, before you die of whatever disease you've got."
Not waiting for an answer, he eyed Renna with a smirk, Raising an eyebrow.
"Never seen a captain take lip like that from a crew man, before. Might as well bend over for the insubordinate twat."
This was going remarkably well, he felt. Perhaps he could convince them to give him their ship, as well....