A Very Bad First Day

Your eyes are slow to adjust to the shadows below deck, but the wet cold chills the blood in your veins.

The floor is under water, not just a puddle but deep enough to flood past the rim of your boots, and with more leaking through the hull. The previous Crew did a hasty job, and you did nothing. The tar is seeped through and the nails are rusted. The wooden boards are in splinters, hollowed out and crusted with salt.

And your new Crew is nowhere to be seen.

You light a single lantern and run, leaving the hissing engine to run on fumes. They have found the hammocks deep inside the hold, even if they have not figured out how to work the lights. One complains that his feet are wet, his haggard face turned waxen by the glow of the Grease bubbling in his pipe. Another strokes his cock, casting obscene shadows on the far-side wall. A third explains that a ship taking on too much water will sink, but fills her lungs with Winter smoke before she can put the pieces together.

The threat of the whip and your worst curses make them jump and the explanation, delivered with all haste makes them panic.

You have lost Sanity

Your Sanity is now: {if Sanity = 1}1 – THE TERROR {elseif Sanity = 2}2 – Nightmares {elseif Sanity = 3}3 – Bad Dreams {elseif Sanity = 4} 4 – Dreamless Sleep {elseif Sanity = 0} 0 – MADNESS {else} X – You are not playing {endif}

And so you show them. You lead them to the storage chests and patch the next-best leak using boards, nails and tar. You hand out buckets to half and have them bail the water overboard. You guide the rest on to the next leak and explain the use of a hammer, then urge them towards the next.

Later, you explain how to light and fuel the lanterns in the hold and why light is needed, but unshielded fire is a danger. You go over the behaviours expected and needed to run a ship, including their duty to warn the captain if anything seems awry. And you again threaten common punishments.