The Harbour
[[Image: |left]] Duties - Administration of the Step n' Fetch Program
Ship Drink - Cthulhu's Eye
Ship Toast - "In his house at R'lyeh dead Cthulhu waits dreaming"
Ship Colors - White, Black, and Teal
Current Roster - (4)
Ship's Head
[[]] - Port Master
Ship's Officers
Honorary Crew
Morgaine - Head Hell Hound
Jack - Hell Hound
Step "N" Fetchs
Ship Awards
2006 Rogue Picnic
Charades First Place Ribbion
Tug-a-War First PLace Ribbon
Frizzbe Toss First Place Ribbon
Water Ballon Toss First Place Ribbon
Winners of the First Annual Rogues Picnic and The Rogue Cup
2006 Treasure Hunt
First Place and was awarded the Treasure Map
2007 Chili Cook Off
Best Presentation First Place Ribbion
People's Choice First Place Ribbion
2007 Rogue Picnic
Charades First Place Ribbion
Tug-a-War First PLace Ribbon
Frizzbe Toss First Place Ribbon
Winners of the Second Annual Rogues Picnic and The Rogue Cup
2008 Chili Cook Off
Best Flavor First Place Patch
Best over all chili awarded the Rogue Chili Bowl
2008 Rogue Picnic
Golden Apple First Place Ribbion
Ship Story
On the Island of Lost Grace, hidden by thick fog and dangerous shoals, stood an old, rundown harbour, unused for countless centuries. The island was home to a fleet of pirates who had thought of no uses for the harbour. Indeed, they scarcely knew of its existence except for the legends and rumors passed down by the oldest and toughest of them around late night fire pits. One day, a young and ambitious First Mate found inspiration for a way to use it. It could be used to test any recruits that the Fleet thought worthy of joining them. The First Mate proposed his idea to the Pirate Council. They discussed the matter for three days and three nights, and then gave him leave from a season of plunder to prepare the harbour for it's new purpose.
The First Mate toiled constantly, readying the harbour for the Fleet's return and the newcomers they would drag back. However, he realized that this task was larger than he had first envisioned it. The buildings of the harbour were not just rotten, but they were infested with vermin bred over hundreds of years. After barely avoiding death several times, and having almost nothing to show for his efforts, the First Mate realized that drastic action was required. On a clear and moonless night, the First Mate carried his staff to the edge of the crumbling docks. He raised his arms and began to chant, "Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn!”
Time smeared and curled in on itself as his words mingled with the lapping of the water against the pilings and the crash of the waves against the surrounding cliffs. The roar of the sea drowned out all other sensations. When the moon was at it’s zenith, the First Mate felt an energy crackling in the air and thunder shook the dock under his feet. He opened his eyes beheld a towering wave flowing towards him from the sea. As it crested, hundreds of feet above him, the wave halted. A great seam split down the front of the wave, and out of the void rose the Great Dark Lord of the Deep.
The First Mate dropped to his knees in submission with his head bowed, shaking. The sound of the water ceased. The air was still. Nearby, a gull was frozen in mid wingbeat. A massive green tentacle rose from the water and rested on the dock beside him, filling his entire vision. A rough caress across his back brought a shiver.
“Speak, my faithful one.” The voice echoed, as if from the bottom of a deep well, and the First Mate’s head drooped, as if all of the weight of all of the oceans had been forced into his skull.
“Great Old One, forgive me for disturbing your slumber. I seek only to help in readying the world for your return. To that end, I would ask for assistance.” The First Mate stammered out his plan to his Dark Lord, praying that he survived this experience with his sanity intact.
“Your idea intrigues me. And as you have always been the most faithful and devout of my Accolytes, I will grant you a modicum of power to see it to fruition. But there is a price.”
“Whatever you wish, Master. I only seek to add to your followers and prepare the world for you.”
“I require one million souls. It matters not how long it takes. You will bring them here for me. I grant you immortality and sufficient knowledge to accomplish this task. Now,” a cold and slick appendage coiled under the First Mate’s chin and lifted his head, “behold your Harbour and begin your work!”
The First Mate caught just a glimpse of his Lord before the waves crashed down and covered him as he disappeared beneath the water to return to his restless dreaming. False dawn peeked over the horizon.
Slowly turning to survey the docks, the First Mate reveled in what he saw. The wood and ropes were sturdy and new. He glanced over the side into the clear water. The channels had been deepened enough to allow ships to dock properly. Only the dark mist still remained, drifting between the buildings.
Yes, there would be servants for the fleet, they would be called Step’N’Fetches. For one year, they would serve the harbour and assist the pirates with menial tasks. Those who proved their weakness, who were unfit for service, would be served to the Great Cthulhu. Yes, his Master would get the souls he asked for. And they would bear the mark of the Yellow King as a shield against the Hounds of Tindalos, whose duty it would be to carry those unworthy of the fleet to his Master.
Now, his harbour resplendent beneath the eternal fog, the Harbourmaster (First Mate no longer) began to create the proper defenses for the Island. He cursed the Harbour so that only those who already knew how to find it could return. He brought forth from the depths sunken ships, sagging with the weight of their many cannons. These he placed at the bases of the cliffs, and bid the long dead sailors on them to defend the harbour from all threats. Then, one last task to perform, the Harbourmaster removed a steel crow's cage from its hanging and went to the small graveyard on the far side of the Island.
He wandered among the graves, finally finding the grave he wanted. The headstone was simply labeled, “J.P. – May You Get What You Deserve.” The Harbourmaster placed the crow's cage on the soil of the grave and stepped back. He waved his arms, chanting ancient phrases writ from fear, plagued by dread, and cast his spell upon the cage and the plot of land below. The ritual lasted thirteen days, but at the end the Harbourmaster had resurrected his most hated enemy. The crow's cage now contained a mostly decomposed body which screamed in agony. Smiling, the Harbourmaster placed a curse upon the cage to prevent J.P. from sinking into the gentle blackness of death.
He dragged the cage back to the longest dock, the living corpse screaming curses at him the whole way. The Harbourmaster raised the cage to its proper place, hanging from a massive pole, as high as a ship’s center mast. Once in place, the crows flocked to the cage to feast, and the screams could be heard far into the sea.
Satisfied, the Harbourmaster looked over his domain and was content. It would make a fine place for the testing of the Step'N'Fetches, but it would make an even better location to sacrifice those who did not make it through. He walked slowly back along the dock, waiting impatiently for the fleet to return, and for the illustrious moment when he would make that first sacrifice of the unworthy to Great Dark Lord of the Deep.
