Bringing in New cargo
Sometimes, the Everquesting sails into port quietly, no flags flying, the Cap'n at the helm, the crew going casually around their tasks. Sometimes, it sails in under cover of shadow, purposefully making no noise, unloading its cargo in utter silence, making sure to not be seen. And sometimes they come in rough and rowdy, hopped up on sugar and glamour, tossing each other overboard just to hear the splash, the Cap'n having as much fun as any of them.
This is none of those times.
For one thing, they're singing. Nothing worth reprinting, but all the voices are raised together, helping them to work as one. For another, Cap'n Thommy is bouncing around the ship like a kangaroo on crack. From the helm to the crowsnest to the poop deck, anywhere he can get his two feet together, he's dropping cantrips and jumping to. He's calling out to his crew as he jumps, gesturing wildly with hook and sword.
"You there! Tighten those ropes sailor. Off the mizzenmast! Lower that sail, get ready to weigh anchor! Ahoy me hearties, we found it at last, we did! There's many drinks you'll drink me lads, on every world that's new! Belay that you scurvey dog, all available hands to the cargo hold! Bring it up, and damned be the first man what crys hold! That stuff be dangerous! It'll lay your whole damn world to waste, it'll make you fit and hale!"
From the cargo hold, something rises. It is a thick block of concrete, easily six feet tall, three feet wide, four feet deep. Arcane symbols mar the surface of the stone, occasionally glowing as light crosses them. Hinges line the left side, and thick black metal chain is wrapped around the block, locked with a wicked clasp.
"Y'all know the story o' this devil brew, aye? Oh, aye! So, load it up boys!" Thommy jumps again, letting of a crow of achievement. He vanishes midleap, in a puff of red smoke, and appears on the dock, tapping his foot impatiently. "Come on boys, come on! Doncha know, doncha know?"
And thus they procede through the city, Thommy constantly ahead of his boys as they drag this mighty block on wheels to where it belongs, the Cap'n shouting his encouragement. It should be a sign of the Everquestings reputation that no one trys to stop them.
Finally, the block is dragged into Strangefellows, as Thommy exhorts his cohorts. "There's many drinks you'll drink me lads, but this one beats them all! Alex, ye crusty old fellow, I've got a rarity fer ye, ye wohn believe it 'til ye try it!"
This is none of those times.
For one thing, they're singing. Nothing worth reprinting, but all the voices are raised together, helping them to work as one. For another, Cap'n Thommy is bouncing around the ship like a kangaroo on crack. From the helm to the crowsnest to the poop deck, anywhere he can get his two feet together, he's dropping cantrips and jumping to. He's calling out to his crew as he jumps, gesturing wildly with hook and sword.
"You there! Tighten those ropes sailor. Off the mizzenmast! Lower that sail, get ready to weigh anchor! Ahoy me hearties, we found it at last, we did! There's many drinks you'll drink me lads, on every world that's new! Belay that you scurvey dog, all available hands to the cargo hold! Bring it up, and damned be the first man what crys hold! That stuff be dangerous! It'll lay your whole damn world to waste, it'll make you fit and hale!"
From the cargo hold, something rises. It is a thick block of concrete, easily six feet tall, three feet wide, four feet deep. Arcane symbols mar the surface of the stone, occasionally glowing as light crosses them. Hinges line the left side, and thick black metal chain is wrapped around the block, locked with a wicked clasp.
"Y'all know the story o' this devil brew, aye? Oh, aye! So, load it up boys!" Thommy jumps again, letting of a crow of achievement. He vanishes midleap, in a puff of red smoke, and appears on the dock, tapping his foot impatiently. "Come on boys, come on! Doncha know, doncha know?"
And thus they procede through the city, Thommy constantly ahead of his boys as they drag this mighty block on wheels to where it belongs, the Cap'n shouting his encouragement. It should be a sign of the Everquestings reputation that no one trys to stop them.
Finally, the block is dragged into Strangefellows, as Thommy exhorts his cohorts. "There's many drinks you'll drink me lads, but this one beats them all! Alex, ye crusty old fellow, I've got a rarity fer ye, ye wohn believe it 'til ye try it!"