"What the Devil?" Captain Vincent narrowed his eyes. A small, brown, furry lump of… something was lying face-down on the shore, head above the water, but torso gently battered by the advancing and receding waves. Curiosity piqued, Vincent drew closer to the washed-up mass.
"GOOD LORD!" he cried when the mass started to move.
"N-no, don't think that's me…" said the figure, shaking its furry brown head as it slowly pushed itself up by its… hands, or paws?
"W-well then, what is your name?" Vincent blinked in surprise, but the creature only shrugged. "Do you know where you came from?" Another shrug. Vincent was truly at a loss, and so was this sopping wet creature, apparently.
But, spurred on by compassion, Vincent offered to take the poor, washed-up creature under his wing. "I can take you somewhere safer. You can get cleaned up and grab a bite to eat with me."
"Sure." The monkey-man hopped to his feet and Vincent could at least rest easy that the creature was capable of walking on his own.
"Come on," the Captain said. "There's a quaint little place in town just past the docks…"
ooo
On said docks, a merchant ship was unloading its cargo, but there was more than just that onboard.
"Shhh!" Oats pressed a leafy tendril to their lips. Stowaways were rare on the ship, but not unheard of. Technically, protocol demanded that they turn the stowaways in immediately, but Oats wasn't going to do that.
They aren't thieves, they just needed a ride over. As the sole survivor of a nasty shipwreck in the past, Oats had compassion for those just trying to get by. And as they noted, the stowaways hadn't stolen any inventory, so it wasn't even affecting the merchant ship's profits. Oats just had to be careful that nobody else saw them, and it was extra tricky because Oats knew that there were at least two stowaways on board, but because they were not together, Oats had to figure out a way to get both of them off the ship without anyone being spotted.
They approached the first stowaway, gesturing to an empty barrel nearby. "If you hide in that, I think I can roll you to shore!" It wasn't the comfiest way to travel, but the grateful stowaway was quick to hop inside and pull the lid shut over his head. Just in time, too.
"Hey! Oats! Need any help?" One of the burlier crewmates called out to the little plant-person and Oats straightened up with a shriek.
"N-n-n-no! I'm f-f-fine!" they stuttered, voice even softer and higher-pitched with nerves.
"You sure?" The crewmate quirked an eyebrow, but Oats gave him the biggest, most reassuring smile they could muster. The crewmate still seemed skeptical, but realizing that he didn't want to do extra work if he could help it, finally lowered his head and walked away.
Oats heaved a sigh of relief and was quick to exit the ship after that, taking their secret stowaway with them.
ooo
Observing them all from the shadows was Detective Adair, halfway between the docks and shore. They tucked their cane in the crook of their arm as they pulled out a small notepad and pencil. A close friend of theirs had gone missing a while back after the ship they were on never returned home from its voyage. Now, all eyes were constantly pealed for the missing vessel, but still nothing had come of it.
And I don't think that's the one I'm looking for, Adair thought as they observed Oats' vessel. The crew was behaving far too normally. Oh, the bind of being a detective! On the one hand, it was good that there was no suspicious activity today. On the other, Adair wanted nothing more. Not only was it boring being a detective without a case to solve, or a lead to follow, but their friend's life was on the line!
Come on! Adair pleaded. Universe! Give me something! Anything! Only a second later would they regret that request.
"OUCH!" Adair leapt up into the air, nearly dropping their cane. They whipped around to see a giant crab scuttling after them. "JESUS!" Adair fumbled with their cane in a blind panic, grabbing the top and pulling it away from the rest of the cane. What they were left with was a shotgun.
ooo
"What the Devil?!" Captain Vincent nearly gave himself whiplashing, jerking his head over his shoulder in response to the volley of gunfire going off behind him. His eyes nearly bugged out of his head when he saw a hoard of giant crabs suddenly skittering across the beach.
"Huh?" Vincent's companion asked, turning around much slower. "Oh my! Crawly ones!"
"You stay here! I'll be right back!" Vincent commanded, racing towards the wave of crabs. At least they won't be as vicious as those mermaids!
"Ok!" His companion agreed cheerfully, then he sprinted right after Vincent. By the time they reached Adair and the crabs, Oats was also there.
Oh dear! Oh dear! Ohdearohdearohdear! Their hands and arms twisted into tendrils as small clouds of poisonous gas emanated from the growths and flowers blooming off their body. They simply could not allow the crabs to touch the cargo! That would really put a dent in business!
"Good Lord!" Vincent breathed, stopping dead in his tracks when he saw Oats. Then his companion went running past. "SOPPY!"
"Hey! Small one! I can help!" His companion ignored him, cheerfully calling out to the plant-person before waving his arms in the air as well. Yet again, Vincent's outrage turned into shock as Soppy cast a bardic spell and blasted several of the crabs away from Oats and Adair.
Even though the quartet had never met before in their lives, they quickly fell in sync, as if they'd been battling together for years.
"It's just like the Shooting Stars!" Oats gasped. The Shooting Stars were an informal combat training group on the ship, devoted to protecting the cargo and crew. They were led and named by a female sailor with a blue nautical star tattoo on her inner wrist, and she was a huge part of the reason why Oats joined the merchant ship at all.
The nautical star could symbolize homosexuality, and although Oats was not gay, per se, they were nonbinary by nature as a plant-person. Other ships and crews didn't always take kindly to people like that, as Oats knew from personal experience. The first ship they worked for was like that. The captain was a cruel, selfish, greedy man who could be downright treacherous when something stood between him and his treasure.
He made his dislike for Oats widely known, but tolerated him because having a plant-person in his crew had its uses, as Oats was proving in combat against the crabs. But that ship sank long ago, the captain's cruelty catching up with him. The dark irony was that, as a human weighed down by gold and greed, even though he fought the hardest to live, he was the most condemned to die. As a plant-person, Oats was able to float to safety.
After that, they met the leader of the Shooting Stars and she more than welcomed Oats into her fold.
"If we survive this encounter, I'd be glad to have you three as a part of my crew!" Vincent promised as his cutlass cut through another crab claw.
"Hey, Beardless One, are you still hungry?" Soppy asked, holding up the severed claw with a contemplative expression.
Beardless One? Adair couldn't hold in a smirk as they reloaded their cane-gun. Vincent gave Soppy a look, but declined to answer. A second later, Soppy slung the severed crab claw at another oncoming crab and began another bardic chant.
Slowly but surely, the ragtag quartet thinned down the herd, and eventually, the last of the surviving crabs had scurried away again.
"Whew!" Vincent lowered his cutlass while Adair returned their gun to their cane.
"Well, that was fun. Now what?" Soppy asked. Oats gave the monkey-man a look as if questioning his sanity, and Adair did the same.
Vincent only smiled tiredly. "My offer still stands," he said. "You three did wonderfully, and I was already going to take Soppy for a meal."
Adair and Oats exchanged looks. It certainly wasn't how either of them expected the day to go, but if Vincent was offering…
"Sounds good, Captain No-Beard!" Oats grinned, extending a tendril to shake. For a second time, Adair smirked.
Vincent gave Oats a lopsided smile, but he didn't correct them. I've worked with stranger. At least they're well-meant!
He could already tell that they were going to make quite the crew, but he was even more sure that their adventures together were destined to be great. In time, they would become shooting stars all their own! But first… food! (And preferably, no crabs).
AN: Written for my best friend Penguin. She's in a Pathfinder campaign as Adair, the nonbinary detective. Soppy and Oats are 2 other players and Vincent is an NPC.
