The Dead Pool (Open)

June 19th 23CLE

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Scrod had been meaning to talk to Gangplank since the trip to Demacia. While he had no love for Demacians the destruction he had seen there was foreboding. The hopelessness he had seen in the eyes of soldiers and citizens there told him there was something horrible on the horizon for all of Valoran if something were not done and Scrod had no intention of waiting for it to come kill him.

He had gathered a few seasoned sailors and pirates, all of whom he had sailed or privateered with at one point in his career, to haul some cargo and come along with the intention to join Gangplanks crew. Though his thoughts were still grim his demeanor was light as he led these men in a sea shanty while they made their way down the docks. From the cabin of the Dead Pool the singing could be heard.


The shanty ended with a few cheers and some jesting towards a man named John that was in the group Scrod had brought with him as the pseudo-crew finished hauling the cargo brought with them aboard the ship. While they did this Scrod made his way to the door of the captains cabin and knocked, playing with a cigar while waiting for Gangplank to answer.

"Well if it ain't this'll last about as long as a handle o' whiskey in a five-handed poker game!" Scrod shouted back as he boisterously entered the cabin. He lit his cigar as he made his way over and stopped across from where Gangplank sat at his desk and leaned onto the table. The candle light in the room cast a deep shadow over his face as he stood there


"However...if the sound of a stronger crew n' more armaments pique's yer' interest any then I reckon' this ol' salt's offer'll sound mighty appealin' to ya' - Captain." Scrod replied emphasizing the final word to make his intentions of joining Gangplanks crew perfectly clear with a small salute. He puffed heavy on his cigar, the chars on the end illuminating his face revealing his wide grin.

"Each n' every one of 'em is worth his salt, don't you worry none about that. I served on deck with th'lot of 'em n' I can vouch fer' each n' every one of their skill n' experience." Scrod replied briefly nodding gratefully as he accepted the flask and took a swig. He listened as the Saltwater Scourge talk about his love for Bilgewater, sagely nodding his head in agreement.

"Born n' raised here myself. Ain't no place is perfect, but Bilgewater lets men live as they were intended...fer' the most part anyway. Livin' anywhere in the world ain't easy, but never heard o' anyone drownin' themselves in their own sweat. That said, ya' can't find no place better to be merrier in life than Bilgewater."

At Gangplank's gesture, Scrod picked up the partchement from his captain's desk. He skimmed it briefly, furrowing his brow in confusion as he re-read it once more. It was just an old docking schedule, why would that concern the big wigs of Bilgewater? He looked back at the desk again scanning it, finding what Gangplank was really gesturing towards the whole time. He tossed the old paper aside as he plucked the now obviously newer letter from the desk noting the Noxian seal it had upon it. He drank more from the flask as he read it discerningly. The letters contents astonished the old sailor, so much so that he spat up and began choking on the rum he had been drinking.

"Yer' pullin' my leg with this right? I keep readin' it but it just looks too damn good to be true..." Scrod said, completely bewildered.

As Gangplank explained what he wanted of the old man, Scrod read down the list of people from simple merchants to the very champions of Bilgewater, just about every single person one could think of with influence in Bilgewater was on this list. It was impressive to say the least. Scrod himself had some pull with quite a few of the people he knew personally on the list, bartenders in particular. Gangplanks proposition was music to Scrod's ears and he heartily agreed to his Captains terms.

"That's a mighty generous deal...alright, I'll see to it these folks know all about it n' drag 'em here if need be. I ain't too fond of the idea o' trusting this 'Swain' character completely though. Almost seems like this'll put too much weight in the hold n' put someone else at the helm of our ship if ya' get my meanin'. That aside, it makes plenty o' sense this plan o' his since a full house divided don't win no pots." Scrod replied studying the list of names as he began to make his way out to start his task, until one in particular caught his eye and made him stop short as he puffed on his cigar. Fortune.

"I got some pull from my years on the seas n' experience with a number o' these folks, but I ain't too sure Fortune'll listen all that much to what we gots to say all things considered...the 'Big Bird' say anything about her in particular?" Scrod asked strangely serious, though it could easily be understood. The bad blood between Gangplank and Miss Fortune was no secret and Fortune was more likely to cause trouble than let this go along smoothly and quietly in Scrod's mind.