Anchor Management (Solo)

[Tshaka re Hafra]

Spring 54, 511

Tshaka walked out of the Kelp Bar bloody and bruised with a smile on her face. A few minutes earlier she had been putting down her third kelp beer, just starting to get a buzz. Three out of town sailors walked into the bar, already loud and obnoxious. Lovely... she thought. The three men looked mildly strong but not excessively so. One sat on her left and two on her right, the rickety stools groaning. She ignored them as they eyeballed her body, she simply taking it as a compliment. She was after all wearing her emerald green bikini top and bottom, her legs covered in a sheer ocean blue wrap, ending in her dark brown, floppy, soft leather boots. She kept her hair straight today. She ordered another beer.

Then the comments began. "Hey honey, there's three of us, and you have three pairs of hands, why don't we put them to work?"
"I've always said women were like spiders, venomous, have everyone scared, but always easy to squish."
"While keeping me busy, her other hands could make my dinner, fold my clothes, and cover her mouth so it doesn't run like all women's do."

At this all three men were in a laughing riot. Tshaka's eyes narrowed, and with venom lacing her words, "Yeah, I'll take care of you three." She finished her beer and swung her glass mug at the man to her right.

[Tshaka re Hafra]

Her hand held the mug backhandedly in her top right hand, as it swung toward the man on her right's forehead. He ducked and saw her middle fist swinging backwards and crashed into his nose. She heard a crack from his nose, and saw the man fall backwards. Her hand throbbed a bit when she saw movement to the left out of the corner of her eye. She saw a glass mug swinging towards her, green stinky contents and all. She swung her own empty mug up and the two exploded in a loud tinkling and splashing. Glass shards and green kelp beer showered the general area of the progressing fight. He followed through with his free fist, and she hit it with the damaged handle she still had in hand. It slashed through his skin and the handle broke apart. He swung his other fist into her ribs, knocking the air from her lungs. A pair of arms grabbed her middle arms and pulled her off her stool, and locking her arms behind her back. Her upper arms began reaching for her holder's face looking for something to grab a hold of. The man in front of her let loose a few more punches on her face and stomach. One of her lower hands managed to grab the belt of the man holding her.

With a swift pull she yanked the leather belt from his waist, his trousers dropping to the floor. She swung it toward her attacker, it snaking out and leaving welts on his arms and face. Tshaka finally found a hold of her holder's ears and grabbed them both. She stopped whipping the belt at the man, and as he closed the gap between them she hopped slightly, putting a good bit of weight hanging from his ears. With his feet tangled in his trousers, and the pain in his ears he reflexively let go of her arms, and began to fall forward. Tshaka let go of one ear and rolled away from the man's landing. With a piercing yell, she saw the man clutching his ear, covered in blood, as it limply dangled from his head. The other man tripped over his friend as he and her squared off in a clear area of floor, he was strong and she knew she couldn't take many more of his punches.

[Tshaka re Hafra]

Her roared and rushed forward in an attempt to shoulder tackle her. She leapt over a table, the table tipping over temporarily hiding her from view. She half crawled, half scrambled behind the bar, the old woman barkeeper staying out of the way as usual. Tshaka peered over the counter and saw the man struggling to get up from his crash into a table. The first man she hit was recovering and awake, slowly getting up. She began grbbing random items and began hurling them at the closer man. She pelted him with beer mugs, mostly missing but spraying broken glass everywhere. He finally stood up and Tshaka grabbed a kitchen knife, which felt odd in her hand. She threw it at the man, watched it fly in a horrible manner, missing him but hitting his partner back behind him in the head with the heavy handle. His eyes crossed and he slunk to the floor unconcious. The closer man however just hopped atop the bar and was now kicking at Tshaka. She blocked some of the kicks but took a hard one to the forehead. She fell behind the bar and saw him about to jump atop her. She kicked off a tap handle, green fishy beer spilling everywhere, causing the man to slip a bit as he jumped. His legs spread wildly as he jumped down, and both her feet kicked upward, together, into his groin. His eyes rolled back into his head as he fell atop her.

She pushed him off of her, and sprung up on to her feet. She looked around to find another assailant, her eyes looking wild. Not finding any she kicked the man on the floor in the stomach "Remember my name, Tshaka, the Kelp Bar Champion!" she grabbed another beer, downed it in a chug, and strode out the door smiling, covered in scratches and bruises, soaked with smelly beer, and a beer mug in hand. The light blinded her as she stepped outside so she didn't notice the man she just bumped into. She looked up and saw the face of dock guard. She sighed loudly.

[Tshaka re Hafra]

"Well well well Ms. Tshaka I presume? Walk with me please, and do not attempt to resist, I do not wish this to be painful for you." The man had a deep rumbling voice. He was easily six and a half feet tall, and had a whole lot of muscle on him. The way he carried himself was one of grace. Even her untrained eyes could tell this man was strong. So she obediently, and silently, walked along side him as he led her through the streets, not toward the jail, but toward the docks. She wondered why he would be doing that, and why didn't put her in the cuffs that hung from his belt.

Almost as if he could read her mind he said, "I'm sure you are wondering why I don't throw you into jail. There are two answers to that question. The first being, I really don't care what you miscreants do with in that hole in the wall you call a bar. And second, is due to who was participating in the barfight I must punish you somehow." The port came into view, and he extended his index finger toward a trade sloop. It was a medium sized ship, held about a quarter of the cargo of the massive galleons. "The merchant that owns that ship is the father of one of the men you injured back there. The merchant asked me to watch over his son discretely. He doesn't want his son involved with legal affairs but wants him taken care of. Since you beat the pulp out of him I am going to receive an earful. So you can pay me back with one of three options." he said as he smiled mischeviously.

[Tshaka re Hafra]

Tshaka was worried, she knew she was in some hot water with this guy, and knew the choices would be bad. She really hoped his options didn't include a taste of her flesh, she didn't mind the intimate actions, but always was in control. She looked around nervously and knew running wasn't an option. He continued, "The first option is banishment for life from the kelp bar." At this her eyes grew wide, that was an utterably unthinkable idea. She could never give up her own private castle.

The guard chuckled, "I didn't think so." He crossed his arms in a know it all fashion. "The second option is I throw you in jail for a season, and have you fired from the guild." That was nearly as bad as the first option. Firstly there was no beer in jail. And working on the water was her life, and helped support her habit. She shook her head at this one. "Which brings us to option three, my personal favorite. The very sloop that merchant owns needs cleaned. Apparantly it had been stagnant before it's voyage here and no one bothered to shuck it. Your job is to shuck that ship, before it departs at dawn."

To Tshaka this seemed the most reasonable choice. To those familiar with boating, shucking is the removal of the build up of barnacles, clams, and such that attach to the lower areas of the hull and the anchors. Slow work, and mostly underwater, it was very tedious and tiring. But she chose to do it. "Fine, I'll have it done by dawn."

"I hoped you would choose this one, you may want to get going, daylight's burning."

[Tshaka re Hafra]

Tshaka sighed and began heading down to the docks. She made sure she had her dagger with her as she looked at the sun. It was still high in the sky. She knew that by the time she was done, and got lucky, the moons would be in the sky. She walked down the dock to the ship he had pointed out. She found the anchor, and thanked Ovek that this ship only had one. She removed her boots, breeches, and chain belt. She was left with just her bikini top and bottom and her dagger. She put her dagger in her teeth by the blade. She stepped to the edge of the wood, her toes clenched the side.

She dove into the water, enjoying the cool, crispness of the water. She pulled her body upright as she floated there. She examined the anchor chain, dropping about twenty feet down. The entire chain appeared to be white, completely covered in barnacles and mussels. She scanned the hull itself, and it only had a few spattered here and there. She swam up to the surface and took in a deep breath. She was going to swim all the way down and start at the bottom of the chain. Anchors were typically ignored due to the fact that they often cleaned themselves and often got buried after hooking something. She dove back under and began her descent down the chain.

[Tshaka re Hafra]

She followed the chain of white down to the bottom. She took her dagger and began her work. She would put the tip of her dagger next to a barnacle, slide it underneath, then pop it back off. The ones that popped off she placed in a hide skin sack. Looking up the chain she knew this would take a while. She continued the arduous process, deciding to count the barnacles and the mussels as she collected them. She spent about a minute underwater before rising to the surface for air. She had collect fifteen barnacles and eight mussels on that trip. She dove back down counting the massive links in the anchor chain. Thirty below the surface.

She arrived back at the bottom link and almost sighed when it didn't look like it had been touched. She set her dagger to work. One hand held the dagger, another would shove it underneath the water critter. Two more would be used to maintain her spot in the water by treading. Another arm held the sack while her sixth arm grabbed the critters and put it into it. She started getting into a groove and was able to get twenty-five barnacles and fifteen mussels in a minute or so. The bottom link looked about a tenth cleaned. She knew she needed to go faster before her longs wouldn't let her stay down this deep for long.