[Game Thread] Part One: 'Hail the Marines"

[kelly]

"And which captain would that be, soldier? Which squad is this? I will convey the effecti-" He was destracted from finishing, however as the recovering Barghest launched himself at Kindle. Coming in from low, shoulder rising into the sapper's gut, slamming him directly toward's the ship's railing...

OOC DC 24 strength check to avoid taking a tumble over the edge.

[Finch]

Kindle had been staring at the old soldier and the sergeant uncomprehendingly, ears still ringing, only realizing by the sergeants incredulous face that somebody else was delivering the straightfaced lie for him. His sense of hearing completely gone, he only saw the Barghast just as he was about to slam into Kindle.

The surprise as well as what felt like a battering ram punching into his stomach left him reeling, trying to grope the shoulders of the big man or something else to hold onto ... and failing.

He slammed into the reiling with a force that expelled whatever air he had had left in his lungs, and then the force pushed his upper body over. He was hanging in the air a moment, motionless. Then he hit the cold water, which eliminated even the last bit of orientation that he had left after the concussion, the body check and the railing.

[kelly]

Continuing on as if nothing had happened, the Sergeant said, "No, never mind. You have done a magnificent job of displaying your own competence soldier. I would suggest a rope for you squadmate, or failing that, a shot bath to help him. He does seem to be struggling. Good day, sir."

He turned his back, and walked back to mind his own troops on the street.

[Keairan]

Sighing to himself, Pricks grabs a rope and tosses an end out to the sapper, hoping to get the end near where the idiot could grab on.

[Chrystrom]

As the sergeant walks off, Sweets glances over at the men holding the waxed tablets and grimaces. Turning to the Barghast who now standing next to him, the one eyed man lets out a sigh that seems to begin at his toes. “Well that was certainly an effective way of making your feelings known about that guys little trick. Unfortunately, I get the distinct feeling from those clerks who have been watching this whole little drama that we have been marked out as the beginnings of a squad. So unless you fancy going into a fight without a sapper we’d best lend a hand getting our little practical jokester out of the water. We can always take a few more pounds of flesh from his hide for this if we want later.”

Sweets follows his own advice and walks over to help the Marine with the rope begin reeling in the water logged sapper.

†

[Birched]

The Barghast shrugs. Then shouts, "What? I can't hear a damned thing. The Hood damned fool!" Prancy plods over to the rail and looks over.

He shouts some more.

"Hey. Idiot. Any more tricks and I push you over the other side next time!" The other side of the boat is nestled against a wooden pier. It would probably be an unhealthy tumble.

He then proceeds to help with the rope, stopping occasionally to waggle his jaw and tap the side of his ear.

[jessylynn]

Her ears still ringing, Feverfew pushes herself up from the dirt. She's not experienced much in the way of munitions, so it takes her a moment to connect. Blinking, she watches the chaos as the others bellow and the sapper goes into the water.

"Let the bastard drown," she mutters. and begins to tug at her ears.

[kelly]

With the massive heavy hauling on the rope, it does not take long to extract the sputtering sapper from the salty water. The boat was now mostly empty, with most of the sane Malazans (is there such thing?) having fled onto the cobbles across the plank. The street ahead was now crowded in the extreme, with soldiers from the entire fleet walking uphill to the gate guarded by the clerks.

[Keairan]

Having helped the sapper back onto dry land, Pricks begins the trek towards the gates while mentally crossing his fingers. I really hope I don't have to work on anyone today. Please let this be the only such excitement.

[jessylynn]

Feverfew collects her pack and her wits, then starts toward the press of marines. She's eager to get in line and find out her place so she can get away from this muddy shipfront.

[kelly]

The group slowly marches its way up to the top of the street, to a pair of arched doors being guarded by Malazan clerks. Their stacks of wax tablets at this point had grown to monstrous proportions. Before anyone could say anything, the Sergeant from earlier stepped forward from the wall. "Ah yes. This is the squad I was telling you about."

The scribe on the left side of the door observes the group carefully. "Yes. Indeed. I think they are. What is your squad number soldier?" he asked looking at Feverfew, who was still in the lead. "And the rest of you; Names, rank and age."

He puts his stylus to a new tablet in anticipation.

[jessylynn]

Finally. Feverfew shakes her dark head, sending her oiled hair to swinging and the bits of grass that still clung after her fall to scattering. What squad? She tugs on the strap of her pack. "Feverfew, Recruit, age twenty, squad mage...when you find one that'll take me."

[Keairan]

When Pricks turn comes to answer the clerks questions, he answers in an accented voice "Pricks, recruit, 28, squad healer... And I haven't been assigned to a specific squad."

[Birched]

Once off the ship, Prancy takes a moment to breath deeply. It isn't his native land, quite, but it's an ocean closer to it than he's been for some time. I could walk back from here.

He follows the other marines down to the street and up to the clerk, glancing occasionally back to the dripping wet sapper with the exceptionally bad handling skills. Or bad taste in practical jokes. Did he do that on purpose?

He's still looking vaguely content until the Sergeant speaks up. The possibility that the marines have something special in mind for him as part of a squad formed of those around him wipes the smiles right off his face. The warrior tosses a worried glance back towards Kindle, and then stops beside Pricks looking like he's got a mouth full of sour.

When his turn comes, the Barghast grunts out, "Prancy. 23 years old. No special rank."

[Finch]

Kindle had grapped the rope coughing and spitting, the air expelled from his lungs had not yet returned. When he was on deck, he first had to lean against the reiling to steady himself. Water was still running in streams from all of his clothes, and he had harbour muck over some of his back - he hoped algae of some sort.

He first checked the munitions. They were supposed to be watertight, but you never knew. When he caught his breath, he went over to where the other soldiers where crowding around a sergeant. He perceived bad looks from everywhere. True, they had helped him back up the boat, and the old one had obviously tried to pipe up for him but... you never knew with Malazans. He would have to think of something.

When it was his turn, he spoke up, his speech sounding weird in his own ears after the blast:

"Kindle, Recruit Sapper, 32 years of age."