Bloody Barges {Game/RP}

[Moriel]

Bloody Barges

The Gulf of Umbar, that finger of the Bay of Belfalas nearly surrounded by the land of the Haven, is a busy body of water at the best of times. At the worst, it becomes a veritable chaos of ships, boats, barges, and rafts, all trying to occupy the same space and move about without crashing into one another. Such is the case today, only this time, everyone has gotten fed up with the situation. And, as every craft in Umbar runs heavily armed, there can be only one solution: sink each other until the water is clear! Whether your weapons are fire arrows, catapults, trebuchets, ballistae, or you’ve managed to get your hands on some of that fabled black powder, it’s time to muster all the firepower at your command!



You have found yourself upon the Gulf of Umbar this unfortunate day, and must now sink or swim! You may choose from one of four types of seaworthy craft:

Ship
Occupies 5 spaces on the grid
Boat
Occupies 4 spaces on the grid
Barge
Occupies 3 spaces on the grid
Raft
Occupies 2 spaces on the grid

In order to sign up, RP yourself out upon the gulf, and indicate the craft of your choice to Moriel privately, either by Discord DM (Moriel#5135) or email (moriel.shewolf (at) gmail.com). Moriel will then give you your location on the grid. Each round you will have two shots to fire in an attempt to sink the craft of the other participants, and must bold your choices (A5, W10, etc) at the bottom of your post. These do not have to be contiguous squares, but may be if you desire. The grid will be updated each round with red dots for misses, and green dots for hits.

If your craft is struck, you will be given a damage prompt which you must incorporate into your next post! Because everyone will know when your craft has been hit and on what square, how much detail you give about the size of it is up to you. No one will know for sure which craft you have chosen unless you tell them. Rafts will be harder to find, but take only two hits to sink, whereas ships take 5 hits to sink, but will be easier to find. Choose carefully.

Play continues until only one craft remains afloat!

Once you are sunk, you may continue to post, but will have no more shots. You may observe, flounder about, try to climb aboard someone else's ship, drown, whatever.

There will be 3-7 days of signups, depending on how long it takes the massive crowd that are sure to want to play this game to join. A warning will be given in the Hall of Barad-dur and on Discord at least 12 hours before signups close!


Rules:
All races welcome, but non-corsairs better have a good reason for being in Gulf
Posts 300+ characters (appx. 3 lines)
Do not post in bold black
White out any OOC

[Wamba_the_Fool]

Jino the Juice-monger

"Great Sun above, would you look at this mess? Not even Sarweeb and his Seventy Scintillating Scimitars would be able to get through here in time before an honest merchant's wares turn into nothing fit for consumption, much less purchasing!" The aged-before-its-time face didn't need to assume a squinting frown - that was its usual cast, through practice and necessity. But Jino's features were sharper, this day. He had an actual decent haul! Well, except for that one barrel, the one full of swiftly rotting fruit. But he also had his sling, and was a pretty decent shot even these days.

The stony visage cracked into a toothy chasm that someone, maybe somewhere, might actually be willing to call a grin.

((OOC @Moriel : I'll DM choice of craft on Discord. Also, how serious were you wanting the RP? I can edit a more destructive weapon instead of slinging rotten fruit if the latter doesn't fit with your vision, no problem. ))

[Silky Gooseness]

Amaris Harân

“You know, there are better ways to assert your independence than this,” said Talain, lazily arching an eyebrow as he leaned against a stack of crates.

“I didn’t ask for your opinion on this,” Amaris answered tightly, teeth gritted as she tightened the rope. “Now are you coming or not?”

She tied off the knot with slightly more vigour than was required before stepping into her craft. Shire, it had been a while since she’d done this, and never solo.

“Your father will kill me if you drown,” the youth muttered with ill grace as he followed her.

[The Good Hunter]

Fleeg, Out of His Depth

“What the…” the puke green goblin woke with a start. He was standing… on a boat? He jumped up and down and, as his luck would have it, overbalanced and fell into the water. Screaming like a murder victim, he pulled himself back up onto the boat and shivered. There was so much fog around, he could barely see anything. He couldn’t even see the end of his craft. Maybe he wasn’t on a boat, maybe he was just a very, very long unstable pier that… yeah, no he was on a boat. How had he gotten here? Fleeg was, as most goblins were, deathly afraid of water (and therefore bathing) so it made very, very little sense to him that he woke up on boat. Had… had the Master put him here? Was it a test? Punishment? Fleeg quailed at the thought. His odd little shriek carried a few feet away before getting swallowed up by the surrounding whiteness. Was it a rival? Did someone want him out of the way so they could run his shop in the Black Market? Oh they were going to pay! No one steals his shop and gets away with it!

[Moriel]

@Wamba_the_Fool et anyone else with the same question: serious is fine, silly is fine, any combination of the two is fine!

[Gwai]

The Whisper

The life of a professional Burglar could be tough. Even when there was work to be had, the people she had been working for had seen decided it would be easier (for them) to simply kill her, instead of giving her the agreed on share of the profits. Fortunately she had a feeling that might happen, and had taken some precautions. Obviously not quite enough precautions, as she had been forced to steal a craft, and was now drifting in the remarkably crowded gulf.

She leaned against the side and wondered if she should consider a career change. It was unfortunate, as she enjoyed being a Burglar. Particularly when she was paid in a timely manner. Maybe it was time to take up something where she worked for herself, however. Smuggling, perhaps? She now had a boat (or some sort of watercraft, she was no expert on the exact details). It opened up quite the realm of possibilities. Plus she had the gold she had liberated from that last Corsair she had been working for.

[Zôrzimril]

Regdûsh, Hungover Orc

Reg had somehow, somehow, blacked out in his rage about Blinky leaving him (or perhaps it was all the liquor he'd stolen from On the Rocks...), and when he regained consciousness suddenly one hazy morning, he found himself covered in oily papers near the docks in Umbar. He held up a hand to shield his fragile head from the dim sun that peeked through the clouds. He had no idea how he'd managed the journey here from Mordor in his previous state, but manage it he had. And now here he was, sore all over and with a massive, throbbing headache. He picked up a paper and licked it. The abundance of grease and salt he tasted indicated that he had been eating all manner of fried potato products since his arrival in the haven, which both unnerved and delighted him. He loved spuds, but something tickled at his memory. Something to do with ships and potatoes and earning utterly meaningless things called "potato points." The details were fuzzy in his mind (though, to be fair, everything going on in his mind right now was a bit fuzzy). On shaky legs and for reasons he didn't quite understand, he wandered aboard a nearby seafaring vessel. Nobody emerged to claim it, so he figured it was his now. It seemed that fate had brought him, potatoes, and ships and stuff together once more.

[Androthelm]

Shasta, Corsair

Ten years and ten, had Shasta traveled the coast, voyaging north to the frosty icebay of Forochel and south to the fires of the world. Ten years and ten had he been kept from his home, from Umbar--glorious Umbar, queen of all cities to have ever sent riders across the waves. Now at last, he had returned, crossing the Bay of Belfalas alone and drifting toward the smaller bay -- smaller, and yet more sacred.
Drifting toward home. Drifting toward Umbar, where the pirates brawled and great plans were hatched. Where those loyal to the House of Castamir still held court. Umbar, the city of possibility.
Shasta let the wheel of his craft go loose as he crossed the empty deck, mounting the ballista which occupied the front of the craft and staring hungrily at the distant skyline of his city.

[Lirimaer]

Dortho Bolivar, captain of the Midnight Witch

Dortho was a smuggler. He was not a very good smuggler in some ways, since everyone knew he was a smuggler, but he was pretty, so the revenue men let him get away with things that ugly men could not, and he had a rich patron who kept him in wines, women and wet clothing - that last because he was on a boat, obviously, and not for any other reason. He'd smuggle everything he was asked to, wine, furs, animals, weapons, herbs and spices, children, adults, clothes, mushrooms, oils, ale, even fish ... if someone paid, he'd do it.

Currently he was actually smuggling his patron across. For some reason she was going into the decadent west and if there was anyone he wanted to keep sweet, it was her. She looked exotic and mm mm mm, no - he cut that thought off before it ripened. She was a viper, no doubt about it, and he'd rather not lose the only pleasure he had in life because he couldn't keep himself in check.

There were a few boats on the water, strangely enough, today, and they all seemed to be rather armed. He'd much have preferred a misty day with no drama for this crossing, for it seemed that something was afoot. Apprising his mistress of the situation, Dortho readied a few things he'd prepared for surprising situations which should liven things up considerably; the ropes worked, the slingshot was readied, and his own little party favours were ready to fly at anyone who wanted to play. He stood at the helm with a wide stance, wind in his hair, the golden curls of his chest hair glinting in the sunshine as he tossed his shirt belowdecks. He was the very model of a heroic ship's captain, he thought, flexing and smiling superiorly as they passed another vessel.

[Moriel]

BLOODY BARGES will begin at 5pm PDT on Monday, August 24th!
Get in your signups, and make sure you contact me with your choice of craft!

[Taethowen]

Vilka, Sea-Faring Merchant

Vilka scowled as she took in the crowded bay, a chill sweeping down her spine as she saw that many of the other crafts were arming weapons of various kinds.

"What the gods..." she swore, and began shouting orders to her meager crew to get their own ready.

It seemed they'd stumbled into some sort of battle about to happen, and while she hoped to just... slip through unnoticed and unscathed, Vilka knew that was unlikely.

[Aerlinn]

Toxius Fume, chocolate merchant, and...crew?

"You said you knew how to sail this thing!"
"I said, as I clearly remember, 'this could be a very profitable venture.'"
"It won't be profitable if we SINK! So that would imply--"

There was the slithering sound of falling rope and then a curse as a heavy metal shackle dropped onto someone's foot. A sail flapped wantonly in the wind.

"Oh yes, well done. I'm sure that's exactly what's supposed to happen. Here, let me see that. At least I can tie a knot you ham-fingered piece of fish bait."
"I'll tie you in knots! Gimme that back, you tosser! I stole it, it's my--"
"And I should leave you and the crazy mud merchant to drown on it!"

Toxius Fume blinked awake to the rising sounds of a quickly escalating argument. He was propped up on the deck between a mast and a barrel of powdered chocolate on his newly hired vessel and, from the sounds of the fight happening behind him, in for a very long week.

[Moriel]

LET THE GAMES BEGIN!!
Signups are now closed. Spectators (whether on land or sea) are welcome, however.

Competitors, each round you will have two shots to fire in an attempt to sink the craft of the other participants, and must bold your choices (A5, W10, etc) at the bottom of your post. These do not have to be contiguous squares, but may be if you desire. The grid will be updated each round with red dots for misses, and green dots for hits. If your craft is struck, you will be given a damage prompt which you must incorporate into your next post! Because everyone will know when your craft has been hit and on what square, how much detail you give about the size of it is up to you. Feel free to interact, or not, with other competitors as you see fit!

Updates will be every ~24 hours! Play continues until only one craft remains.
There are no penalties for missing rounds, but it decreases your chances of sinking someone else before they sink you...

[Wamba_the_Fool]

Jino the Juice-monger

The wizened vizier of vicious visage limbered up his arm and ignored the ensuing snaps, crackles, and pops. Block his way into port, would they? Not while he had anything to sling about it!

Swiftly he fitted with fleetest affinity the smushiest of fruits in local vicinity to fleetest of slings in spinniness rotary - YAH! YAH!

The foulest juices be sticky in your beard!

That'll teach A4 and A2.

[Zôrzimril]

Regdûsh, Becoming Less Hungover

Reg shaded his eyes with one hand as his new waterborne craft drifted out into the harbor. He had no idea what he was doing, really. He still couldn't piece together exactly how he'd wound up in Umbar. He shrugged and began rummaging around amongst some barrels and crates that he found on deck and - to his delight - found both weapons (a catapult and various projectiles) and provisions (more taters, some dried fish, and some wine). In one crate, he found a pile of clothing - shirts and dresses and the like. In another, several heavy iron spheres the size of his head.

He ripped the head off a dried fish and chewed thoughtfully. There were far too many ships in this harbor. As the new and self-proclaimed commander of his own vessel, he became suddenly filled with the notion that they would have to give way before him! He scanned the water, and his eyes fell upon some likely targets (Q6 and Q13). He wrapped two of the metal balls in some shirts pilfered from the crate, lit them with his trusty flint, and, one at a time, shoved them into the catapult's bowl. Reg grunted as he launched the balls of fire into the sky, then straightened up to observe the effects of his work.

[The Good Hunter]

Fleeg, still out of his depths, but also with weapons

The mists cleared up just a bit as the morning wore on. Wait, it was morning right? Being outside of Mordor he couldn't tell if the sun was up or not (he’s a goblin, don't ask). In the middle distance he could see something that looked like another ship. He squinted and spat. A massive green blob of phlegm hit the deck. It most be the people that put him here. Why else would they be so close to the boat they put him on in the middle of the… morning? He would not let this fly! But he would let those rocks fly. Being too terrified to actually explore his boat, Fleeg had not noticed the trebuchet standing at the ready. He loaded two stones in (they took him awhile because they weighed more than he did) and fired away. Take that you… whoever you are!

(Z7 and T12)

[Silky Gooseness]

Amaris and Talain

“What’s our cargo?” asked Talain as he shaded his eyes with his hand. He scarcely needed to. The bay was crammed full as -

“Sardines,” grunted Amaris, as she levered the top off a barrel gingerly. “And clams. And - is this an octopus?”

Talain groaned. He had been hoping the smell had been from adjoining boats, or simply sunk deep into the wood of the boat. Fisherfolk? Really? That was their... apparent occupation?
“Some of these don’t look so good though,” continued Amaris thoughtfully, reeling up a marlin and eyeing it. The fish eyed her back. Shrugging, she tossed it out of the boat, it and another malodorous occupant of the barrel...

Fire Fish In Ye Hole, T10, P7

[Aerlinn]

"Keep your filthy! thieving! hands! off!" each word was punctuated by a thwack of a heavy wooden rod Toxius had taken to carrying around. "The merchandise!" The pudgy man fisted his hands on his hips and glared fiercely. "Do you think I'm blind? I see you tangling up the ropes and dipping into the stores! Do you think I'm deaf? I hear you arguing about how to steer this thing! Bah! Curses on all of us--just get us through this disaster before we end up as kraken food!" He gestured broadly to the mess of boats and rafts and ships of all type milling around in the gulf and stomped off.

His would-be crew of two looked at each other and sniggered.

"If he's in such a hurry he should do something himself 'cept wave that stick around!" the younger man snorted. "Ain't gonna go far jammed in like this anyways. C'mon Paku, let's take a peek at that big crossbow thing."

Before long, they had swung the mechanism up to aim high in the air and set the winch. Paku found a pile of rusty, battered spears. "Alright, got it? Three, two, o--twang!" Someone's hand slipped and the spear went arcing high over the bay, a glint of silver flashing in the sunlight.

"Sweet! Let's do it again. A bit to the left this time."

(O7 and O11)

[Gwai]

The Whisper

She jumped when splashing started around the boat, and it seemed an all out war had just broken out between the seacrafts about. Groaning, as she had been deep in thought contemplating her future, or lack thereof if that smuggler back in Umbar had anything to say about it, she searched the craft for some sort of weapons to fight back. She wasn't sure who she would be firing at, but care little at this point.

Fortunately, the smuggler's craft was fairly well stocked. There were slings, and rocks about, and it was a fine day for a fight, particularly as she was in a terrible mood. She took aim, and launched a few rocks, hoping it was as easy as it looked.

(M2, M4)

[Taethowen]

Vilka, Relieved to Have at Least One Functioning Cannon

Vilka swore as the first rounds of fire sounded across the bay. This was not how she'd intended to start her day, or how she wanted to test the stability of her new-ish vessel, but it was what it was.

So Vilka barked orders and swore some more, and swung the cannon round to aim and fired, and then did it again, and hoped that either shot would hit something. Anything. Because she really wasn't sure how to aim this thing at all.

(S8, W10)

[Lirimaer]

Dortho Bolivar, aboard the Midnight Witch

It was a lovely calm day, they had set out with a fine wind at their back, and then suddenly the whole bay came alive with malice and bedevilment. The waters grew choppy as people starting flinging things wildly, with nary a care for people who had to deliver their bosses to the opposite shore alive and unharmed.

Dortho was sure he felt a rock (or was that a melon?) ruffle his hair and he'd had enough. Finding two doodie packets with rocket attachments, Dortho lit the fuses and then wondered where the hell he'd aimed them ... as they flew off, he thought maybe next time he'd aim and then fire.

It seemed they'd both gone in different directions anyway. He tried to keep track of them, to see if they hit anything, spinning wildly as they were, by playing a strange game of looking one way then another then back again through his telescope.

H9 and H5

[Moriel]

Green for hits, red for misses

@Aerlinn, you have sustained damage! Who knew foul mushy fruits could wreak such havoc?!

@Sil Denafil, you have sustained damage! With an explosion of fish eyes, large stones crash through the deck of your craft!

ALL, please ensure you are choosing squares that exist on the map. There will be no sympathy or re-dos.

[Taethowen]

Vilka, Frustrated That Everything Missed

"There's so many fredegaring vessels out there!" Vilka hollered at her crew. "How did we miss all of them?"

No matter, though. Off in the distance she could see splinters flying and knew that someone had hit something. Hopefully the bobbing waves and the wind would be in her favor this time.

"Let's get these cannons turned!" she ordered, pointing toward the other vessel. "We're going get that one!"

(Y7, Z8)

[Zôrzimril]

Regdûsh, Eating Raw Spuds and Not Reading

Now gnawing a tater, Reg stepped to the edge of his craft and eyed the harbor. The air was full of projectiles - a few hit their mark, but most splashed into the water, including the flaming spheres he'd flung with less-than-deadly aim. "Rggggghh," he grumbled. "What a waste!"

He decided to save the heavy iron for a Dramatic Moment and instead grabbed several large books from inside another crate. Reg had never had much use for books, having never learned to read. These would do perfectly. The great orc lit up A Pirate's Guide to Catapulting with Accuracy and 1001 Potato Recipes without realizing their potential other uses, then launched them out over the water toward what he hoped were enemy vessels (R14 and M8).

[Androthelm]

Shasta, Snapping out of Reverie

What was this? Shasta had been gazing so intently at the distant skyline of his beloved city that he'd hardly noticed the battle beginning around him. Very well! If there was a fight to be had, then Shasta was going to be a part of it -- especially if it meant writing "SHASTA HAS RETURNED" across the bay in the wrecks of his unfortunate foe.

Speaking of unfortunate, Shasta's visibility was unfortunately poor what with the stones and cannonballs and produce and -- was that a book? Had a book just flown by overhead? If anyone was going to be hurling valuable manuscripts into the sea, it would be Shasta! Shasta the Corsair!.

With a scowl, and hardly caring to aim, Shasta kicked free the block which held the wound ropes of his ballista in place, shouting Fire! as if any of his crew had survived the journey to fire along with him.

(B8, Q11)

[Lirimaer]

Dortho Bolivar, aboard the Midnight Witch

Dortho was quite disappointed, since those doodie packets were excellent and now only the fish knew it. He sighed, and picked up different ammo, saving the rocket doodie packets for when he had a better idea they'd hit a target. He decided to use the catapult and picked up a heavy load of raw fish guts and offal, bound into a sheep's stomach (aye, they're delicious boiled, so the poor folk attest) and angled the machine before letting it fly.

He was getting the hang of this now, and sent another near it, but not too near it. Hopefully it'd give some mewling scraghead a worry or two! And then ... out would come the rockets again! He felt the judging eyes of his patron on his choices and ignored her. It was better that way - he could be wrong and not feel like death was on the cards. It would be on the cards if one of these devils his their boat though. He took a nip o' rum.

K11 and P15

[The Good Hunter]

Fleeg, Out of Rocks but Not Out of Seagulls

In this mist it was impossible to tell if he’d hit anything. He heard a lot of plunking and flumphing and splooshing sounds but Fleeg had no idea where his rocks landed. Aerodynamics, geometry, and physics were not things he had paid particular attention to in school. Well there was no school, but there was a group of goblins that practiced throwing each other across a gorge once. Fleeg managed to get across and, well he never did hear from the rest of the group after that. Weird that. He went to grab the next rock but lo and behold they were gone. What? He could have sworn there had been a massive pile of rocks onboard. Maybe he was wrong. Stuff on the water was weird. There was however, a pair of seagulls with their wings tied together. There was something unethical about this, but Fleeg could not quite out his finger on it so he decided to put his fingers on the birds. He loaded them into the trebuchet and launched away.

(J10 and K13)

[Silky Gooseness]

Amaris and Talain

Amaris screeched - like a gull. (Not like a seagull. Seagulls aren’t real). There was an enormous hole in the vessel and they were rapidly taking on water.

“Well I’m off, looks like you have your hands full here,” said Talain brightly, stripping off his shirt and making to dive into the water.

“Don’t you dare!” screamed Amaris, yanking him back by the neck. “Get to bailing right now! I’ll lighten the load...”

She bodily hefted one of the barrels and hurled it away with a splash.

Y6, K8

[Wamba_the_Fool]

Jino the Juice-monger

The cantakerous old croc of a caravaner's cavernous cavity careened into a kind of a caustic cackle as he crazily cannoned a couple cantaloupes catamaran-ward.

A3, A1

[Gwai]

The Whisper

She needed to work on her aim in a bad way. That, and probably should have brought some more provisions. She dug around inside a chest, and while there was actually a surprising amount of gold coins (likely the gold coins she hadn’t been paid), there was also a few swords. She grimaced. She didn’t relish the idea of getting that close to other ships.

Instead she grabbed more of the rocks, and aimed toward some of the closer ships. At least, she tried to aim. Hopefully she would improve before she sunk. Or got hit by...was that a pair of seagulls tied together, flying through the air?

A5, M6

[Aerlinn]

Toxius Fume Chocolate Co., Uh Oh

....................SPLERGH! SPLACK!

Blegh! Agh! Yuck! It's in my eyes! Paku cried. He attempted to scrub at his face but only succeeded in covering his hands with rotten smelling, goop. Coon! Get over here! I can't - - ick! The lad had breathed a piece of black, slimy banana into his nose.

Coon was in no position to help. The second load of oozing fruit had burst in the middle of the mainsail and the impact had been too much for the poorly fastened lines. Yards of cloth had come crashing down to smother the hope-to-be pirate in their now reeking folds. Toxius Fume, chocolate merchant, stared at the scene with building rage.

You absurdly. incompetent. nincompoops! he screamed finally, as Coon thrashed and swore underneath the twisted sail. I'll see you fed to the eels or so help me! He grabbed at the first things to come to hand and missed wildly as he threw a sack of cocoa powder and a thick bar of baking chocolate at the bumblers.

They landed in squares B2 and B4.

[Moriel]

@Aerlinn, you have been SUNK!! Through the combined efforts of The Whisper and Jino the Juice-monger, your ship is on its way to the bottom of the bay. You may now observe, flounder about, try to climb aboard someone else's ship, drown, whatever.

@Sil Denafil, you have sustained damage! A cannonball blasts its way through your deck!!

Seriously people, only squares that are squares count. If the dot isn't on a square, you wasted your shot. I know it's a weirdly shaped board, but that's part of the game!

[Lirimaer]

Dortho Bolivar, aboard the Midnight Witch

Well.

Dortho looked round the bay. It seemed pretty full of boats just ready to sink, and therefore it was just his aim that was slightly out. Maybe drinking less rum might help, but in all honesty, he wasn't feeling it. More rum was needed! Not quite as much as those folk aiming at the land though! He did laugh heartily at that though, considering those strikes might otherwise have hit the Midnight Witch - and then where would he be? In the drink, that's where! With a livid and vengeful patron, to boot. He only hoped if that happened that he was a faster swimmer, or that she couldn't swim at all and she'd be grateful for his lifesaving ... yeah, okay, that was unlikely. He'd never heard her say thank you in their whole relationship.

He took out some more of his stinking ammo and loaded them, sending them high into the air and then watching with glee as they came down, down. Would they land on a boat? Maybe. He took another swig of rum and laughed.

Y11 and Z14

[Taethowen]

Vilka, Jubilant

"YES!" Vilka hollered, throwing a triumphant fist in the air. "We hit one! Swing that cannon back around and let's finish taking her out!"

Once the first shot was away, Vilka swung her eyes around the bay again, picking out another target. "There! Surely we can hit something there!"

(Z9, M5)

[The Good Hunter]

Fleeg, Finding More Birbs to Toss

Having no idea if anything he was doing was having an effect, Fleeg pouted in the middle of his boat. What was he supposed to do now? He had no rocks, he had no melons, he had no fish, he had no birds, he had nothing to fight against his enemies. He was defenseless! He was trapped on a boat in the middle of an endless ocean (for all he knew) with no way of escape. He was doomed! Doomed!

Just then, as if his pathetic pleas reached the ears of some traveling chaos loving deity, two more birds fell on his boat. With rapacious glee, the goblin pounced on them, tied them together, licked them (He was getting hungry), and launched them in his trebuchet.

(O14, U8)

[Zôrzimril]

Regdûsh, Doing Stuff for Unknown Reasons and Maybe Beginning to Think Critically

Reg's missiles splashed anticlimactically into the water. Several scorched pages floated across the sky in the wake of the flaming books, and he swallowed the last of his potato with bitter rage seething through him.

"What even is the point of all this?!" he snarled as he hoisted first a chicken, then several of its eggs into the catapult and haphazardly flung them into the air. At least for now, it seemed that the point was unloading all the cargo from his craft.

(The chicken and eggs sail toward S6 and U6)

[Gwai]

The Whisper

She stood back, her mouth open a bit, when she saw one of her rocks hit a boat, which actually sunk. She couldn’t believe it. She didn’t usually have that kind of luck.

Of course, now she felt bad. Should she offer to help scoop up survivors? But she had sunk them, so they might try to kill her. Plus she was low on rations, especially of the liquor variety. Undecided, she finally settled on pulling them out of the water if they ended up her direction. It seemed a reasonable plan, she told herself, as she loaded up again.

R9, W13 please!

[Wamba_the_Fool]

Jino the Juice-monger

"Oh ho ho!" cackled the caster, cankerous curses cast fast right after: "Spittle flecked beard, grasshopper drooped, juke with the Jino and you will get GOOPED!"

D17, C16

[Moriel]

@Sil Denafil, you have been SUNK! Despite your efforts at lightening the load, another cannonball crashes through your barge, sending it to the bottom of the way. You may now observe, flounder about, try to climb aboard someone else's ship, drown, whatever.

@Androthelm, you have sustained damage! Rocks come flying at your craft, ribbing through the rigging and planks!

@Lirimaer, you have sustained damage! The fruit-flinging fearsome fighter strikes again!!

[Taethowen]

Vilka, Beginning to Feel Triumphant

"HAHA!" Vilka cackled as her first cannonball smashed through a barge, and she saw it begin to sink. Her second shot ended up going a little wild, though, but no matter. She'd cleared a little room in the bay, at last!

"Now... swing the cannon round again!" she hollered, pointing out the next two targets in the distance. "It's time fire again!"

(B16, V14)

[Androthelm]

Shasta, Staggering

The bolts both went wide, but Shasta didn't have time to worry about that. He was distracted by the countersalvo, which descended from on high and blasted a hole in his deck. Shasta staggered at the impact and came up roaring. Who dared--Who DARED to strike at Shasta, King of Corsairs? The title was invented, of course, but nevertheless...

There was a ship, limping in the distance. Someone had struck it once already. They were to blame. THEY were to blame. Shasta had no evidence, but he had determined that THEY were to blame!

(X12, A16)

[The Good Hunter]

Fleeg, Got No Time For Readin’

Fleeg dutifully waited for more seagulls to fall from the sky, supplicant to his chaos deity. However, after a long minutes of nothing but seagulls shire falling on his head, he cursed his new god as useless and fickle and loaded the holy book he had been writing into the trebuchet. It was mostly blank as, naturally, he had only just begun to worship this deity and his writing style was long and verbose. Okay, that's a lie. He had written less than a dozen words on a blank book because he wad waiting for inspiration to drop out of the sky. There were more streaks of bird crap on the book than actual, legible words. A wave knocked at his boat and nearly tumbled into the water. He shrieked as though his skin was getting flayed, potentially alerting his enemies to his location. Sod it all! He launched the trebuchet and cursed. He just wanted to get the hell out of here.

(L13, R10)

[Gwai]

The Whisper

The Whisper was gaining more confidence with her throws. Not because she was particularly accurate, but because she did seem to actually hit a few things. It was more due to skill than luck, but she would take it.

There were more crafts sunk now, and she was nothing but glad she was not one of them. Were there sharks in the bay? Probably, she thought, looking at the water. It seemed the type of place there would be extremely large sharks.

S9, Q9

[Zôrzimril]

Regdûsh, Competing for Some Reason

The chicken and eggs (or was it eggs first, then chicken?) plunked into the sea. "What the bleedin' hell is wrong with this thing?!" Reg shouted, kicking the catapult then hopping around a bit as his foot throbbed with pain.

He thought he spied another book flying through the air. But he hadn't launched it. He, Regdûsh the proud if haphazard orc, should be the only one flinging books! "Arrrgh!" he shouted at no one in particular and everyone all at once. He lit up a couple more great tomes (one titled A History of the Houses of Umbar) and let them fly.

R8 and W12

[Moriel]

@Lirimaer, you have sustained more damage, this time from whistling cannonballs!

@Androthelm, you have sustained more damage, as multiple books come smashing through your hull!

[Androthelm]

Shasta, Taking On Water

The boat was sinking. There was nothing to be said but that the boat was sinking, and there was no longer any hope of casting out water fast enough to save it. This close to home, and it looked like Shasta would have to swim. Well, damn it all, then he'd be bringing at least one of them down with him. Shasta strode across the deck, hardly noticing the water which gathered around his ankles and knees, water which was clouded with oil and the residue of goblin-powder, and... paper?
That took him aback for a moment, but he strode on, regaining the ballista and letting out a roar as he let fly one final time.

(D16, U11)

[Taethowen]

Vilka, Strategizing

One shot had hit, but the other had gone wide. It seemed the first shot had severely compromised a vessel, though, and she would gladly put it out of its misery!

"Swing the cannon 'round again!" Vilka hollered. "There, and there! Fire!"

She watched closely to see if both shots held true.

(R7, R11)

[Lirimaer]

Dortho Bolivar, aboard the Midnight Witch

Dortho had been so busy dealing with the first strike, he'd forgotten to send out his own strikes, and now the crows were circling, his poor Midnight Witch about to go down. His patron, far from castigating him, had merely looked at him with impassive dark eyes and he'd sprung into action. Off of the side, he uncovered a coracle from a tarpaulin and slid it into the water, helping the girl in and passing her a paddle.

"Don't be worryin' 'bout me, none!" he'd said. "You get to land safe, and I'll catch y'up in a wee while."

It was therefore with more petulance than actual aim that he sent off more ammo, figuring he might as well use the doodie rockets as not.

After than he grabbed a waterproof bag, stuffed it with thing he didn't want to part with and chucked it overboard, following it himself with a groan as he hit the cold water. This hero lark was a bit naff.

E9 and E8

[Zôrzimril]

Regdûsh, Drinking Again

"Ha HA!" Reg whooped. One of his books, a mighty volume as thick as his head, had landed spectacularly on someone else's craft. Of course! This was the point - the pleasure of raining mayhem down on others! He found that his headache and hangover were vanishing quickly, so he pried open several more crates in search of more booze. Toys for children, ugh. More books, meh. Wine, bleh. Where were the spirits?! Why would the previous owners of this craft stock only wine?? Resigned to third-rate drinks, he took a deep gulp from a bottle, surfacing for air after several long seconds. Eh, he might as well finish the whole thing. And another for good measure.

Giggling gleefully, he toddled over to his catapult and sent the empty bottles flying.

J6, M12

[The Good Hunter]

Fleeg, Like a Cat to Water

He heard a book land somewhere that wasn’t a giant “sploosh” and smiled. No one out here would be smart enough to throw books so it was obviously his projectile that landed. Wait… there were other people out here? How bloody crowded was this place? Were they all involved in the plot to take his shops away from him? Fleeg turned a new shade of green in his rage. They were all going to pay! He went to grab another book and instead of finding a nice leather bound notebook was met with the yowls of a very angry tabby cat. What the fredegar? Who puts a cat on a boat in the middle of the ocean? For that matter who puts a goblin on a boat in the middle of the ocean? The cat was angry and scratching poor Fleeg like it was his idea to be on the boat! Ugh! He tossed the cat, yowling ball of hatred and claws that it was, into the trebuchet, found an empty clay jug and tossed it in as well before launching both into the atmosphere.

(O4, O5)