Feralys
Tons Burthen: 300 tonnes
Armaments:
- 10x 9-ponder long guns (Main deck)
- 6x Swivel guns (2x Poop deck, 2x Quarterdeck, 2x Forecastle)
Rig: Ship-rigged
Crew: 75
Standing on the maindeck, Eddy turns to meet you. "Ahoy messmates, the Cap'n has asked me t'give ye all a tour of our fine l'il ship. We first recieved Feralys from Doctor Ybrad, so we don't know a huge deal about where she came from. She does however remind me of the Guineamen, slave ships ye see travellin' twixt the old world and the new. These ships are spacious, fast and roomy. The doc however had modified her, making her as pretty a wee cruiser as one could want."
"Feralys is a three masted, ship-rigged vessel. She pulls about three hundred tonnes, and is just over one hundred foot from bow to stern and has a beam of about twenty five feet." Walking across the deck, Eddy pats one of the bronze guns, "currently we have ten of these girls, good bronze nine-ponders." Motioning to mountings around the gunwhales he continues, "there's also a few swivels we use too, a particular favourite of the Cap'n. Kaylee'll brief ye up on the guns."
Leading you up a set of stairs to the aft, you find yourself on a raised deck overlooking the main he walks to the centre of the deck where the ship's wheel sits behind the binnacle, a sailor standing by it. "This is the Quarterdeck, if ye were aboard a Navy ship this would be officers and navigators only. Not here though, all decks of the ships are home to the whole company, should probably keep it clear though this is where we sail her from." Indicating the doors at the aft of the Quarterdeck, he continues, "that's the cabin, the Cap'n lives in there, we tend to leave it to 'er, she likes 'er privacy, y'see."
Pointing to the raised deck at the bow, he grins, "that's the Fo'c'sle, sorry, Forecastle. We tend to use it for recreation when off duty, ye'll find a barrel of Purser's Punch there." He indicates the raised deck aft that forms the roof of the cabin, "that's the poop deck, much the same as the foc's'le." Motion to the rigging and masts he looks serious, "stay out of the rigging when off duty, the hands up there need all the room they can to work the sails. Eventually your turn'll come to be lookout. If yer scared of heights," he grins, "tough luck, it's over seventy feet to the top of the mainmast. Let's head below."
Below deck is musty smelling and gloomy, the only light being from flickering candles and the cross-hatched light filtering through the gratings from above. The space is largely open, but is divided up by crates, barrels and boxes as well as the occassional set of bulkheads. The shadowy forms of hammocks can just be made out swinging to the roll of the ship, occassional snoring noises being emitted. "This is the hold,this is where ye'll sleep, pitch a hammock wherever ye can." Pointing to a partitioned area midship he smiles, "that's the galley, it's the domain of Movi, enter if ye dare! Forward ye'll find the sick bay and ye'll also be shown the armoury and powder room. Don't go in the latter without telling someone" Clapping his paws together, he sighs, "well, that's the tour! Any questions?"