It has been a busy few days, catching up after the storm. Even Mr. Buttplugg seemed content to give the Cat a rest, though not to his credit, for the entire crew performed impeccably in their daily tasks.
Stehlen and I spotted a light on the horizon while keeping watch overnight. We were certain it was a ship, perhaps a mile or two away. By the time dawn arrived, however, as we approached, we could see that it was a shallow island, washed clean by the storm surge. The reef’s bounty tempted the Captain’s appetite, and he sent four of us (Stehlen, Owlbear, Sava and myself) swimming out and back to catch crab for dinner. The reefclaws were in a foul temper, but Owlbear enjoyed flexing his, admittedly enjoyable to view, muscles and stuffed them into the trap pots just as well. Crab, he enjoys eating even raw, though usually the much smaller variety, so it is good to see him in such high spirits after being chained belowdecks for so long.
I even had time to read the journal La’Luka brought to me… It was written by Flipps’ mother who had also been press-ganged! It would seem our rotund bully has a sentimental streak, and La’Luka aims to exploit that weakness to drive a wedge into Mr. Plugg’s group. A fight did break out when Stehlen, quietly directed by La’Luka, mentioned in passing that Narwhal, Aretta and Ratling had been cracking jokes about Flipps’ mother. I may have chimed in that I had heard a particularly vivid metaphor involving the capacity for traffic of a seaport comparing unfavorably with her loins. To be fair, they were responsible for Flipps’ berthing, so surely the analogy wasn’t too stretched.
Speaking of rotten, old, barnacle-infested sea whores, Aretta is notably grateful to La’Luka for her new haircut. It was probably rather uncomfortable the way Flipps was gripping her during the fight that broke out.
Remarkable, that. A soothsayer with prodigious powers of hindsight might recognize her blossoming affection for the Beastman as something of an ingenious devising.
Such wicked tight webs Fate does weave with a helping hand!
Young Scrimshaw and myself also managed to win a rather respectable sum of money from the scurvy swine, Narwhal and Kipper, using a deck of playing cards I had the good fortune to bring along with me… A pity he didn’t recognize a good opportunity for gratitude when it was dealt him.
By Stehlen’s report, Grok was much obliged to return good favor for the chilled tea he provided on such a hot tropical day. Maybe the glowing icon I discovered on the inside of the crab shells served for dinner also bear some weight in what passes for her mind.
In truth, there will be blood in the water, and soon. And I don’t need to read cards to know it.