[Survival!] A Cold and Lonely Beach

[Zuki]

Carmichael assists the lieutenant in hiding the body of the redcoat, Ensign Chivers, one of the new recruits signed on for this mission. He remembers seeing his family giving him a big send off, the tears he tried to hide in leaving them. The Captain had to wonder what kind of plan God had for this boy to leave him alone and dead in a Spanish sand dune. Chivers face was a picture of confusion and terror.

"R-right! Josiah...lets get these men Moving." the beach was awash with the dead, dying and those too shocked by the scene to make a movement. Fear was running ice cold through the survivors, threatening to finish them off if they didn't get moving soon.

Carmichael draws his sword and marches down the beach, bellowing to the men "All right Red Riders! Shake a leg! There's men need help and supplies a-waste all over this beach...Sergeant McNeil! Get these men in order and working!" He closes his eyes, trying his best to put the image of the Ensigns face from his mind, faltering in his step a moment, thinking of happier times, of Henrietta. Unbidden, the words of the song he sang to her came to mind. He gasped in an icy breath and started to sing, driving the fear out of him.

"A landlady of France, She loved an officer 'tis said. And this officer he dearly loved her brandy, O!" he found his footing again, walking between the wreckage and calling out to the men between verses sang, slowly the others began to join in with the chorus as they worked. Whatever the horror of their situation, escape was an easier option, after a few moments he had almost forgotten the accusing look on Chivers face.

Within a few minutes, the men had hauled most of the reachable cargo up the beach along with a grizzly pile of corpses that covered the Ensign, more faces he would rather forget. Thankfully it seemed the song and the call to action had quenched the icy grip of feat in the men, at least for a while. He started to look over the recovered items, wondering if the mission could possibly be salvaged as well.

[wraithben]

Price carried bodies and searched through the wreckage for anything of use.

When the Captain started singing a smile crept onto his face, that was better. Listening carefully he soon picked up the words and sang along adding a harmony in his baritone voice.

[Neil Gow]

As the wind and sleet howls around the beach, driving the cold deep into the bones of the survivors but slowly and methodically, military discipline is established. The macabre ritual of stripping the bodies of anything that could identify them is no burial, but it is necessary and yields a few scraps of food and a tinder box which could be crucial in this blighted land.

Of greater interest to one group of men is a rather plain but strongly locked and bonded strongbox that was washed up with the debris of the ship. Shaking it, the contents clearly include some coinage, but their sound is muted by the rest of the contents.

It is still deep in the night though and that could be a matter for the morning - now, shelter is the most important business. In the distance, on the top of a cliff towering over the beach, is a faint light, flickering. It could be the shrouded lantern of a patrol or a local fisherman attracted by the screams. It could be the candlelight of a hovel, where the men could shelter.

The only fact in this disaster is that to stay here in this exposed spot would mean certain death....

[Each character can select one piece of salvage that they managed to gather, alongside anything that you narrated into your RP earlier, cos I'm feeling generous]

[Halfbat]

Hempwick strode forward. "Aha! Thank goodness! Our orders." He took the box from the arms of the private who was looking at it quizzically. "Champ, isn't it?" The private nodded. "Thank you, Champ." Hempwick carried the box up the stones to the base of the rugged cliffs, stumbling as his naval cutlass caught of a rock. In the shelter he checked the strongbox carefully in the light available: it was intact, it's weather seals unbroken. He heaved a sigh of relief and reached into the weatherpocket of his sodden uniform. Pulling out a key, he tested it in the lock - it clicked - but without breaking the bonds and seals he relocked the small chest and returned the key to his pocket, patting it carefully into place.

He was interrupted by the crunch of footsteps over the stones. "Lt Hempwick, sir. Are these yours?" It was Champ again, in his arms he held a mandatorily wax-paper sealed pile of charts. "I'm not too good at the reading, like, but I think these were your maps. "You are a marvel, Champ!" Hempwick jumped up and took the pile of charts from the private's arms. They were, indeed, some of his charts and maps, incomplete, of course, but key amongst them were his private maps of the norh coast of Spain and the maps of the interior he had been issued at the start of the campaign. "Treasure, indeed, Private. Treasure, indeed! I shall see Carmichael hears of your diligence."

The private nodded and retreated, half-saluting. "Thank 'ee, sir." He returned to pulling bodies up the beach and extracting what was needed.

Hempwick caught Carmichael's eye and waved him over. He patted the box. "Our orders regarding the insurgents. I suggest we discuss them when we are in a place of safety. In the meantime, I had probably best keep it personally safe. May I have a guard under my command to protect it?" He showed Carmichael the charts and maps. "And Private Champ found these, good fellow. They will be of immeasurable value, I think."

Hempwick nodded towards the light on the promontory. "And I am sorry to burden you with questions, my old friend, but what do we do about that?"

[Zuki/Neil: Hope it's ok to pull a PC over like this when it doesn't seem to affect anything else.]

[wraithben]

Price continued to sing as he shifted bodies and started searching through the wreckage for anything of use. He found plenty of lengths of wood that would work as a club, or indeed firewood once dried. However there was little else of use. Shoulders slumped he sought out the Captain and headed over to make a report.

Halfway across the beach he tripped on something, swearing he scraped at the sand by his feet to find what had caught his feet. A moment later a wide smile spread across his face - this was more like it.

He got back to his feet and headed to Carmichael, slipping the 24" Rifle sword bayonet he'd tripped on into his belt.

[Zuki]

"Champ gave you this?" the Captain raised a brow wondering what would motivate a brute like him to act in such a way, he had shown nothing but barely concealed insubordination to any officer before. Still, perhaps the rumours about the illicit goods Hempwick could lay his hands on were true if someone like Champ trusted him.

"Well good, we shall deal with the lights over there in a moment, send a group of scouts I should think. But first..." he knelt next to the locked box, examining it a moment, then stands and calls over to the men "Fuller! Yes you man! See if you cant get this open for us will you? No damned key from the look of it." he gestures to the box and then sets about inspecting the rest of the items.

Suddenly his face lights up, grabbing an oilcloth wrapped package, tied with a red ribbon. "Ha! Whoever found this deserves a medal!" he quickly unwraps the cloth and produces his personal Baker Rifle, complete with its silver finishing "Amelia, I never thought Id see you again..." he checks the cloth, pocketing the bullets and powder preserved from the elements inside.

He turns his attention back to Hempwick and smiles "Yes, you do need a guard, and its always useful to have a right hand man, I couldn't do without Charlesworth myself. Ah Price! Good to see you. The Lieutenant here is in need of a man to keep him safe on dry land. " he winks at Josiah "Make sure he stays out of trouble will you?"

"Now, where is Fuller, Im sure he has the wiles to open this box!"

[wraithben]

Price saluted smartly.

'Rightio sir, as you say.'

He turned to Hempwick and saluted again.

'Reporting for duty Lieutenant Hempwick, Price is the name sir, but I'll answer to Taff as well if you prefer. Just stick by me and we'll get you back to your boat no bother. And that's what we all want now isn't it - you back to your boat and us back with the regiment.'

Price moved round to take station a pace behind Hempwick, slightly to the right, ready to do whatever was needed to keep him safe.

[w00hoo]

When the order went up to stack the bodies Fuller started to drag the closest from the surf. Looking out slightly further he saw a red shape lolling in the surf and cursing the pull of the waves waded further in. Private Randulph couldn't have been more than seventeen and here he was dead on a foreign shore. As Snout tried to haul his carcass towards the sand he realised it was caught, plunging his hand deeper down under the body he snagged a leather sling, the fool had jumped overboard with his rifle still slung. It was amazing he'd managed to get this far before it dragged him to his death. Unwedging the butt from among the submerged rocks Jack pulled the corpse to the beach. The rifle would need a good clean and drying out, and he had no powder for it, but there was no shortage of shot and many an enemy had fallen to a good swing from a musket, he slung it across his shoulder, hearing his name being called from further in land.

"Captain Carmicheal sir" Private Fuller arrived by the officer having left Private Randulph's corpse with the others, "want me to have a shufti at this box do yer? I'll get right to it." Without proper tools, Snout made do with giving the box the once over, trying to work out it's weak points and where a mix of bayonet tip and rock might tempt it in to springing open.

[Don't now if this is something you card for now, or if everyone announces their next 'thing' and draws together. Jack has +3 in Skullduggery and the Trait 'Scoundrel' if that does anything (I don't have the rulebook to hand at the moment.) If it's hand waved, then he'll open the box but damage the lid to the point it won't easily close again.]

[ElaineM]

MacNeil picks his way amongst the bodies and washed up cargo, searching for something, anything salvageable. Crate after crate turns up little more than sodden, inedible food, or other supplies made useless by the sea water.

"Damn and blast," he mutters in his thick brogue, kicking a crate in frustration. His foot goes straight through the weakened wood, splitting open the crate, revealing the contents inside. Ready to turn away, MacNeil pauses as something catches his eye. Bending closer, he rips away some more of the wood, and pulls out an oilskin wrapped bundle inside. His eyes light up as a pouch is revealed to hold a tinderbox, and further in - joy of joys! - a small amount of powder, miraculously spared the ravages of the sea.

"Sir!" he shouts, scooping up the precious cargo and making his way back towards Carmichael and Hempwick. "I've found some powder. Not much, good for no more than five or six shots at the very most, but it's dry!"

[Neil Gow]

[So far you have amassed:

A packet of maps and charts
A sword bayonet
A Baker rifle
A sodden rifle
A small amount of powder and a tinderbox

@w00h00 - no need for cards now. If the officer wants the box open, then you will have the chance. You almost certainly could get it open considering your skills when needed.]

[w00hoo]

[Removed]

[Halfbat]

[Err............... Hempwick would almost certrainly grab anyone before they attempted to open the box. See Neil's note. Did everyone miss the fact that he'd already cheked the lock with a key?]

"Leave that, Price! I did not want any to open it - it is for Captain Carmichael and myself, only. Our orders! I have a key."

[w00hoo]

"Er, um, sorry sir, Captain had said open it sir, best you two talk that out and let me know if you want it fiddled with."
Fuller hastily returns the box Carmichael had asked him to open, surprised by the sailors vehemence he doesn't bother to correct him on the assumption of Snout's identity.

He nods to the Captain as he leaves, "I reckon it'll spring if you say to do it sir."

[Halfbat]

Hempwick looks grim as he took back the box and checked the lock. It was intact, only slightly marked. Once again he pulled out the key and tried the lock - it clicked, and he breathed a sigh of relief. Locking it again, he nodded. "Aah, that's alright ...Price?" He looked sideways at Price. "Fuller?"

Suddenly wary of the lack of confidence this displayed he straightened, patted the box under his arm and looked between the two privates. "This contains our orders and papers, Price. It must be guarded with your life. Come with me." He nodded at Carmichael and carefully made his way up the beach above the tide-line to the scrub at the base of the cliffs. The lights bothered him, and he wished he had his telescope - no doubt it was lost with the rest of the equipment from the boats.

[wraithben]

Price threw a quick salute and followed the navy officer up the beach.

'So where's we going sir? No need toworry about you box there. Without yoursay so only you and the Captain will touch it whilst I'm still breathing.'