NaNoWriMo: Day 16! Wrote 1,536 words and I'm hoping to get in another 100 before bed. Just wanted to pop on to share some of Thorberta's adventures! It's a rather long passage.
“Oi, gimme that thar fiddle an’ see what a real sailor does wi’ it!” shouted one of the dwarves when Finginnian finished the last note of a ballad. Thorberta could see the affront building behind the cleric’s short, rectangular glasses and wondered if she was about to witness her first brawl. Sailors brawled a lot according to Grunkelheimer [author of Grunkelheimer's Encyclopedia of Nautical Things and How They Might Function.] That was how they kept fit when not clambering up ratlines. But there was no fight. Finginnian stiffly held out the fiddle and bow and the gnome could just make out the icy words, “Do not dare drop her!” as the dwarf seized the instrument greedily. He waved the elf cleric away and stuck the fiddle under his chin, plucked at the strings, tested the bow, fiddled with the tuning, and held the bow aloft for a suspenseful moment before he attacked the strings with a lively tune. The third dwarf and the elf girl kicked up their feet to the music.
“Yea ho!” shouted the Halfling from his perch on one of the strapped down barrels. He started clapping to the beat and a few others joined in. Some of the crew playing cards took to stomping their feet instead so they didn’t have to set down their hands.
“Yea ho away!” came a roar of response from most of the other sailors.
Thorberta licked the nib of her pen again and poised it over the paper to catch the lyrics. It was a call and response shanty with a leader singing the verses and everyone else joining in with the response. The Halfling male had a gusty voice that somehow carried above all the stomping, hooting, clapping, and fiddling.
“A fair ship she be in all weathers,” he sang.
“Yea ho, Yea ho away!” sang everyone else.
“Here she come gliding o’er the waters
Yea ho, Yea ho away!
Her decks be polished wi’ spit ‘til they shine
Yea ho, Yea ho away!
Her bow rises proudly above the brine
Yea ho, Yea ho away!
The Catspaw in her finest array
Yea ho, Yea ho away!
Ne’er a chance o’ goin’ astray
Yea ho, Yea ho away!
Now ‘oo d’yoo think was master of ‘er?
Yea ho, Yea ho away!
Cap’in Blakeney an’ ‘is cursed skipper
Yea ho, Yea ho away!
An’ what d’yoo s’pose they had for suppah?
Yea ho, Yea ho away!
Shelled sweet peas an’ a pound o’ lubbah
Yea ho, Yea ho away!
With pinkies curled an’ a nap’in propah
Yea ho, Yea ho away!
Diamond forks an’ a tub o’ buttah
Yea ho, Yea ho away!
O come an’ git me things in order
Yea ho, Yea ho away!
Go’ta run ‘fore she sails yonder
Yea ho, Yea ho away!
Kiss me once for luck we're stallin’
Yea ho, Yea ho away!
Kiss me twice, the mornin’s dawnin’
Yea ho, Yea ho away!
With me rucksack packed, all’s in order
Yea ho, Yea ho away!
On the Catspaw I’ll sail o’er yonder
Yea ho, Yea ho! Yea ho away!”
“An’ what d’yoo s’pose they ‘ad for suppah!” cried out the non-fiddling dwarf.
“Yea ho, yea ho away!”
“’ow ‘bout a parrot’s tail an’ a monkey’s livah!”
“My cooking isn’t that bad!”
Thorberta looked up to see Kalikusa standing on the outside of the crowd, hands on his hips, and a wide grin spread across his thin face. The company roared with laughter and hands slapped on thighs. Finginnian snatched his fiddle back and promptly re-tuned it.
