Stewards Of The Mainbrace

The excitement that dominated us only moments ago was replaced with a disgustin' air of defeat.

Shoulders slumped, moans rose up like a herd of mewling calfs, and the more hot-blooded among us raged in wicked fury, spewing out curses and vows like a bunch'a erupting volcanoes. But none were as angry as Monty.

The bloke roared and slammed his fist on the bulwark so hard, I thought he'd split it in two. Those who were nearby jumped and cringed away from him; no one liked bein' near Monty when he was in that sorta mood.
The only one brave enough to approach him was Klaggart, 'cause he was a good deal bigger.

"Orders, sir?" He asked, keeping his voice low - not outta fear, but more outta respect for the situation we now found ourselves in. Since the wretched Kongs and their rhino buddy escaped our clutches, there remained only one course of action to take, and that was to report to Kaptain. None of us much liked the idea.

Monty turned a cruel eye onto his comrade, and bared his teeth. The natural color was startin' to return to his self, and we all of us let out a silent sigh of relief. (Monty had been known, on occasion, to take out his wrath on anyone or anything standin' too near to him, but it was a lesson none'a us had to learn twice, mark my words.)

"Send out one of our messengers. Give a full report to the Kaptain."

"A full report, sir?" Klaggart raised a brow, doubtfully.

Havin' to be thorough in a report to Kaptain meant letting him know that the rats escaped in spite of our best efforts. The fact that the Kongs had the element of surprise in the form of that lumbering rhino wouldn't stay his wrath, either. To his thinkin', we were all just bloomin' incompetent. I tell you, a horde of fire-breathin' dragons could attack us in the middle of the night, and it'd still be us who were at fault.

"You heard me!" He growled dangerously. Klaggart took his leave and headed below deck to prepare one of our avian allies for the message to be sent to Kaptain.

Francis gingerly made his way to me, not wishin' to attract attention. He stood there a moment and shot a wary glance toward Monty, who was still starin' hard at the sea, as if hopin' against hope for the monkeys to resurface.

"What d'ya think Kaptain will do when he gets wind o' the news?"

I shrugged. "I wager he'll probably blow his stack and double the sentries posted on Crocodile Isle."

"D'ya think he'll see it fit to punish us?"

"Maybe, lad, but he's frightful busy to be using up his time on the likes of us. He's got bigger fish to fry, especially now."

"Aye, that's true. Well I hope he has sense enough to stay his rage. At least fer the time bein'!" No more need be said on the topic of rage, for we Kremlings were constantly surrounded by it. If it wasn't the Kaptain comin' down on us, it was Monty. There was always someone to fear, always a reason to be walkin' on eggshells.

Monty barked at us all to get back to our posts, and we dispersed in quite an unhappy state. The sun set on a very bleak bunch'a pirates that day.

To make matters worse, a heavy fog rolled in that night. It obscured the stars and laid out a gloomy air on an already gloomy bunch. The wind grew chill, an' it was all we could do to stay warm in the frigid air. I stood near the bulwark facing south and kept my eyes sharp - course, there was nothin' to see, given the fog and the dark night. I rubbed my hands briskly along my scales to try an' keep warm, but it was no use. I had no way of countin' the hours, but I guessed that I had about two more'n change left on the clock.

When I came to be relieved, I was so cold I thought I might freeze in the hammock an' never wake up.

To my eventual regret, I did wake up early that mornin', before my shift.

I stretched my aching muscles and yawned, and glanced upward between the cracks in the planks. By the looks of things, the fog had hardly lifted; likely, we were in for another dreary day.

I forced my sorry carcass outta bed and went to look for somethin' to eat in the galley. A couple others were already there, but I paid 'em no heed and scrounged around for a bite. I was hungry, seein' as I hardly had the time to eat yesterday, given the commotion. After breaking my fast with a few meager portions, I strode out on deck to receive my orders for the day.

Kilian met me, staggering more'n usual and rubbing his eyes.

"I take it the night grew colder than you thought," I remarked, with not a little hint of amusement in my tone.

One eye popped open and glared at me. "Arr, be glad you weren't awake in the wee hours, ye dog. We just about froze to death on the spot."

"That may be, but at least you had a generous supply o' rum to help stave off the numbness."

He chose not to respond to that, and instead delivered my orders on behalf of Monty.

"I'm s'posed to go topsail today?" I asked, surprised.

He massaged his head. "Aye, those be his orders, lad..."

I swore under my breath and gripped the hilt of my weapon (a trait I was prone to displayin' when under stress.) I stared up at the rigging, the tops o' which were hidden in thick fog and looked as if they led up to nowhere. Baring my teeth in frustration, I nevertheless strode forward to comply with Monty's orders. Kilian must'a sensed my discomfort, and made sure to take advantage of my momentary weakness. "Don't worry about the height, lad," he teased, "leastways if you fall, you won' have to worry about freezin' to death up there."

I shot him a look; I might'a known that bilgerat would pay me back for my jokes about his hangover. Nevertheless I gripped the rope and carefully proceeded to climb up, grumbling the whole way. I was never much of a climber, and while I did alright compared to some in my class, I was far from agile when it came to heights. The mainbrace was Klinger territory, nimble and lightweight as they were, and I couldn't imagine what that lily-livered fool Monty was thinking, posting a guy like me at such a place as this.

Well, far be it for me to complain too much. I'm just a lowly Kritter, after all. My life weren't meant to be lived by questionin' orders and getting into a fizzle over small stuff. So up I climbed, goadin' myself not to look down but to keep straight on until I reached a good platform to sit on.

When I finally did, the view wasn't much better from the top. I'd hoped that maybe the fog would'a cleared and that I'd at least be rewarded with a fine view for my efforts - but as usual, no such luck was to smile down upon Klave this day. If it were possible, I had an even worse view from this altitude, as the fog grew thicker and I could see maybe a few feet o' rope stretchin' off in both directions from the platform, but that was it. There were no sign at all of any Klingers, not even of Francis, and after a good ten minutes o' sitting there, I began to feel upset all over again. By the Powers, was I to spend all day sitting in a big cloud of fog all by my lonesome, shiverin' my tail off?

Outta nowhere, I began to hear a soft beatin' sound - something coming from both ends of the rigging. I sat still as the beatin' progressed into something with a rhythm, and was beginning to wonder just what in blue blazes was going on, when the thin, reedy voices broke out in song.

The sails, behold! Look how they blow,

The tarry night raged on,

With buckets turned, and captains spurned

We deckhands sing 'till dawn!

Yo ho, yo ho, heave ho, below!

Hark now, there goes a squall,

With sodden deck,

They broke their neck,

We heeded not their call!

Yo ho, yo ho, heave ho, ye foes!

The brandished sword lies red,

We've spilt their blood,

They've drowned in mud,

Now let us go to bed!

A chorus of laughter rang out, and naturally by then I had a good idea of who was makin' that caterwaulin'. A second later, Francis appeared from seemingly outta nowhere and landed with an over-extravagant flourish beside me.

"Well what d'ya think o' that, matey?" He asked with a huge grin. Before waiting for an answer, he explained, "That's only one'a many songs we sing here in the riggin' when the tides are slow. But it does powerful wonders in passin' the time."

"Only if you're the one singin' it, I s'pose," I replied. "Singin' it and hearin' it are two different things."

He placed his hands over his chest in mock-offense. "Well smite me," he said, "I believe we've got a critic among us, lads!"

To my slight dismay, four other Klingers slid down from their ropes (which caught me off guard, as I thought I was sittin' at the highest point on the ship) and joined their comrade.

"One at a time ye darned fools," I said, waving my hands, "You're makin' me dizzy swoopin' outta thin air like that!" I had a tendency to turn giddy when it came to heights, and it'd been playing on my mood. The fog and the noise and the little creeps shimmying down the ropes weren't helpin' none, either.

"Do my ears play tricks on me," said one Klinger in a thick accent, "or did I understand our beloved comrade, Francis, to say that our music is not appreciated?"

I glared at the little runt. "You heard 'im well, laddie, and if it need repeatin', I'd be happy to oblige."

Francis said, "Well then, Klave my boy, p'raps you'd care to enlighten us? Show us what real music is." The others chortled and gave me their full attention. "Go on, lad. We're waitin'!"

A wicked grin spread across my long, blue jaw. "So you boys want music, eh?" Slowly, deliberately, I pulled out my cutlass and pointed it at Francis - not dangerously, but enough for him to get the message. "How about the sound of my blade separatin' your heads from their miserable bodies? Now that's what I'd call a fine tune!"

Like a bunch of squirrels, they all scattered and took off up the rigging in different directions. They weren't phased much by my threat, as accustomed as they were to brutal treatment from captains and fellow knaves alike. The sound of their gleeful laughter drifted down to me, but I cared not; at least they were gone.
And here I'd been wishin' for someone to talk to! Well, after that infernal ruckus, I found I preferred the solitude and silence of my predicament more'n I thought.

The day dragged by, and throughout all of it there came never a word as to the whereabouts of the Kongs, or even of the Kaptain's response to our failure. I weren't fooled, though; I knew it was only a matter of time before he saw fit to punish us for our incompetence. And here he was often the most incompetent of 'em all. You'd never hear me sayin' such out loud, though; I wasn't that much of a fool.

Come sundown, when I was finally off duty, I made my way eagerly down the awful platform and away from those pesky Klingers. I hadn't spoken with any of 'em all day since I threatened 'em, but I'd caught snippets of their singing as they went about their chores cleaning, bein' on lookout duty, mending pieces of rope, and what have you.

When I reached the deck of the ship at long last, a Klomp by the name of Kast was there to take my place. I gave him a curt nod, and indicated the rigging above me. The fog finally began to clear somewhat, and as such, it cast a smoldering light on the setting sun. The thin wisps o' cloud turned pink and red with the light, and the water had an almost-green tinge.

"Be on the lookout while you're up there, mate," I said.

"How do you mean?" Kast said as he got ready to ascend the ropes.

"They're a musical bunch up there; don't let 'em play any games with ya."

He stared at me a minute, before shrugging and climbing up the rope. I stared after him for a bit, then shook my head and proceeded to head to the galley for a bit o' rum. I found I craved it after a long day in the rigging, listening to those little devils yappin' and yellin'.

Before I was outta earshot, a last scrap of gleeful song made its way down to my ears.

For we swabbed the decks like never before,

No, never before!

Don't dirty our floor!

And we wash and scrape and never lose heart,

Aye, given our part,

We've made it an art!

So, come nightfall we drink and bander,

Don't try to raise up our dander,

We never give ear to blather,

Lads, here's to a hard day's work!

A/N: In case it isn't obvious, I suck at poetry/song writing. XD That first one was a challenge, but the second one was just a bear. I actually tried writing the lyrics in tune to the music played during the Mainbrace Mayhem level. Not easy! But good enough for government work I guess. Also sorry this chapter's shorter than the other two, but I wanted it to end where it did.