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      The sharks circle with a much wider berth, low and moving through the reef cracks and crevices, not daring come too close to the surface. While the passing of the Vidame tir Cuothr was elegant, leaving little wake in her passing that did not immediately get swept back in the receding tides, it may be a different matter when the both of them hit the water. The half-elf climbs up the wobbling mast-pole, the additional weight causing the pendulum swing to become a bit more urgent, and as she worries away the knots with a knife, there's an alarming sound of stressed wood, not snapping, but groaning, before a wave pushes it back up with a shuddering shift. It won't last much longer, and with their cruel predator's intellect, the sharks seem to know it. Luckily, the damsel does not seem all that shook, with the usual halfling pluckiness in the face of it all, looking at Secca's fast work with wide sparkling eyes and all-in-all taken more aback with a chivalrous display as this compared to the dragon's roar, though she shudders none the less as she loosens and consents to being held, at least for the moment as the remainder of her other foot is freed. She is indeed tall for a halfling at four and a half feet, all gangly limbs, but its hard to say that she might have the blood of the dwarf as "robust" is not the word that comes to mind. She answers the question posed in that thick accent, not fumbling with the words so much as with her thoughts, heart beating up to the bottom of her throat. "Urszula S-sandydowns, if it please." She squinted at the wig, and seemed to light up. "You were one of the pirates that took the Ceaseless! And look at me, being saved again." With her other foot free, she was able to mostly hold at the rigging herself, looking trepidatiously down and then to the rest of the crew making their way up. "What now?" After Dermid takes his next action, everyone may act again, including Mazhar and Ranka for the first time directly if they like. For the purpose of attacking the sharks, their AC is 14 (modified due to partial cover from being under the surface). Mazhar, if you do not wade out into the shallows and thus take a bit of a risk if you miss, they will be just out of short range, giving you disadvantage on your attack roll. Tricky Dick Nixon fucked around with this message at 17:30 on May 16, 2018 |
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May 16, 2018 17:21
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 Secca does her best to bow with the level of flourish one might expect from such a delightful example of Sarnathqar culture, though it sadly lacks in some of the specific majesty she hopes for by virtue of their precarious perch. She says, "A rare pleasure, Urszula! I am Seccacosantza Tolto VII, the Vidame tir Cuothr." She winks, "Though you are certainly welcome to call me Secca, for what use are courtly airs between those that fate sees fit to draw together?" The half-elf scans the surrounds as the halfling's question sinks in, as she had very much not considered that in the slightest. She notes the minotaur and the joyless stiff readying their offensive measures of choice, though, and that gives her quite enough confidence to answer. "For the moment, we shall wait here together. Do you see the large, horned one? He is a master with the harpoon, why, I'm sure he alone could rout an entire school of these toothed menaces! And that one, on the sandbar! His magic is far more efficacious than his interpersonal skills."
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May 16, 2018 17:40
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 As soon as Secca does her boastful claim, a projectile of pure magical energy flies past her head, missing her by a few inches before exploding into the water. Rolled a Natural 1 of course.
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May 16, 2018 17:53
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Secca, nonplussed, grins and says to Urszula, "As I said. Far more efficacious than his interpersonal skills." Louder, enough for Mazhar to hear her song-like voice, she adds, "/Dearest champion of horn and hide, may your aim prove true and your thews mighty indeed!/" Secca is spending a bonus action to grant Mazhar Bardic Inspiration and, once the sharks are distracted, will Dash with Urszula to shore and safety! Tricky fucked around with this message at 19:31 on May 16, 2018 |
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May 16, 2018 17:56
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 Brilliant blue eyes dart to the horizon as Dermid's creation roars. Jan'ti hunkers down low over the old man's emaciated form without a second thought. The moment passes without another roar or a crash of the great beast slamming into wreckage along the shore. She takes a deep breath and pictures her home and how it had been when she was young. The beautiful beaches of Herapetra filled to the brim with life. Waters so clear and smooth that from a distance it seemed as if the boats coming to port were sailing on glass. Jan'ti slowly exhales and opens her eyes. Unfortunately for the Desider, Lucielle was fairing much worse against their newly discovered shared trauma. "Lucielle!" Jan'ti grabs another fruit from her basket and rips off the flesh with her teeth, "Stay together!" There's a real and true concern about Jan'ti as she scrambles to finish her task. Juice dribbles down the spiritfolk's chin as she unceremoniously jabs the fruit up to the Desider's lips. "Drink." She tenderly lifts the old man's head and starts to squeeze the juice from the fruit for at least a moment's reprieve. Jan'ti carefully rests the Desider's head back on the ground once her task is done. She stands with a soft smile that belies a certain sadness in her eyes, "We'll be back. Water soon." Jan'ti rushed off after Lucielle. There wasn't a moment to waste. Jan'ti passed the Wisdom save with a 16 on roll20. She'll do what little she can do for the Desider now that he's decided to live but is pressured into leaving quickly to keep an eye on Lucielle.
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May 16, 2018 19:14
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    The old man, so recently saved from certain death, finds his whole body feeling the coming of it once more with that great roar. His eyes wide, his cracked lips spreading in a resigned sort of grimace over his gap-toothed, bloody gums, he looks up to the sky. "Ah, can't be helped." It is to his surprise though with the genasi not only moves to defend him, but quickly pushes with the swamp apple life-giving drink, which he greedily sups from, grabbing the fruit with his emaciated but still broad grubbyg hands, drinking his fill from the succulent. "It wouldn't do if ye both died now, not before ye friend Desider." He warned in a cracking voice that dissolved into a phlegmatic cough, as Jan'ti rushed to follow after Lucielle, the two of them following the coast of the lagoon, unless they chose to try and cut across through the water and swim the way to the shoal, at as much of a sprint as their dehydrated bodies could handle. The two of you will take some time to get there, likely arriving at the end of the action, but just so you aren't just waiting for nothing, both of you may make Perception checks for me. Tricky Dick Nixon fucked around with this message at 19:40 on May 16, 2018 |
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May 16, 2018 19:38
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At the encouragement of the half-elf, the gangly halfling nods once, reaching out and holding out a hand to the Vidame tir Cuothr with a winsome smile. "Only way out is through, right love?" Whether the hand is taken or not, they fall into it, like a daydream or fever, into the clear crystal blue of the shallows. The water splash is small, and once they hit the water they start making their break for the shore. The sharks stir, starting to move further in formation, which gives Headsman Mazhar the opportunity he is looking for, hoisting the harpoon and readying it for a hefty throw. Seccacosantza quickly closes the distance, rolling out onto the wet sad as the ebbing tide recedes back from where she lay, turning around only to see that Urszula lags just a bit behind, still in the water as the sharks close in! Those halfling legs could only propel her so far and fast, and in the rush the Vidame had not even noticed until now, when the moment was right. Our crew of castaways and mutineers would have to work together, and fast, to pull her from the jaws of the beast before it closed close enough in to bite! Johann's Eldritch Blast misses and Seccacosantza's Dash moves her the 30 feet through difficult terrain to the shore line, but Urszula's 25 feet of movement is not enough even with a dash. The following still have actions this turn at the shoal: Dermid, Mazhar, Ranka.
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May 16, 2018 22:25
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 Lucielle flips her master's coin with her thumb, and catches it with surprising deftness. When she looks at where the coin landed, the exile isn't surprised in the least when she sees that the coin came up on skull side. That was just the kind of day she was having. The trek around the lagoon was rough for her. She was tired, hungry, thirsty, and she was still feeling the strain on her arm, and to make matters worse, she's still shaken up from the sound she heard a few minutes ago, her usual steady hands shaking from barely contained fear. The trauma she experienced ran deeper than she thought. She tries to keep watch of their surroundings, but Lucielle has a hard time focusing her eyes on the area around them. She needs something to quench her thirst. Turning to Jan'ti, she asks, "By any chance, you wouldn't of found anything we could drink, would you? I think I might be feeling more than a little parched right now," she tries to smile, but the smile comes off a little forced. Got a natural 1 on my perception. Welp.
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May 16, 2018 22:42
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Jan'ti would have no problem keeping pace with the exile on a better day. One where she was fed and hydrated. If only she had slept somewhere nice and peaceful instead of at sea being tossed about like a rag doll. A nice, comfortable place to rest instead of a tangle of vines and mud and filthy water. The whole ordeal has left her thoroughly exhausted. She is gasping for breath by the time she catches up with her companion. The genasi's knees buckle her and she tumbles forward. The sand flows in waves on the ground as the world shifts before her eyes. For a moment, she is lost on the coast of this godsforsaken island. Another deep breath. Another peaceful scene. Jan'ti straightens here back until she kneels before Lucielle with some form of awareness of the world around her. Jan'ti lifts her right hand from its place in the sand to rest firmly, comfortably on her shoulder and clutches herself tightly with the other. Her eyes raise to meet Lucielle's as she asks yet another question in the common tongue. It is all the spiritfolk woman can do to keep her face from contorting into a particularly gruesome death mask. Yet the woman before her has the privilege of panicking. Jan'ti still had work to do. There would be time later to fuss over her peculiarities or there would be no time at all. She takes a moment now to examine her surroundings; only now realizing just how far they've come from the marsh, and to that end, the Desider. "No water." Jan'ti shakes her head. She's been out of the water long enough that her hair has gained some serious volume. It darts every which way and frizzes about. It is almost distracting in the way it bounces with each shake of her head. "Find container. Fill with water. Any water. I'll fix." Jan'ti got a 12 on that perception roll.
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May 17, 2018 00:47
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 Then tension bleeds, becoming dimmer, though it is still there, pressing down on both Jan'ti and Lucielle, but it is their exhaustion that takes the center stage. Catching up with them, as the golden sun moves past its apex, and the shadows begin to deepen with the receding of the tides through this afternoon. Lucielle is more or less blind to her surroundings, but as Jan'ti takes a look around, she searches to find some way to help address their needs. To her surprise, she finds exactly what they are looking for, just across the water on the central island of the lagoon. Some equipment had been left behind by the other castaways, including two wooden barrels that are mostly intact, next to a tin bucket with some mussels and tan-shelled crabs in it. There is also the body of a lobsterback, though his red coat has been torn up and otherwise ruined, covered with a layer of those very same crabs picking lazily at this or that piece of his body, only a little bit at a time as they pinch and grab each piece of bloated skin to their moving mandible. But that is not the only sight to their immediate south that catches Jan'ti's eye. While those in the vicinity are currently distracted by a fair amount of activity, the pair have the mometn to notice that the black column of smoke, after a single wide mushroom-like plume, has started to dissipate and no longer billows upwards towards the sky. It has been extinguished. Between the bard's clarion call and the roar of the dragon, it would be hard to blame them, but that is the direction the other castaways seemed to have gone, and indeed, they see two others, a puffed-up kenku and a swarthy mariner, on the opposite side from them on the island on the coast, making to move around to the south all the same, and might be within shouting distance.  
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May 17, 2018 01:45
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 It was pretty plainly clear that Ranka wasn't exactly in the best state, her body swayed side to side and her face betrayed the sickened feeling she was dealing with. Given her tumble on the run over and having carelessly dropped a very pointed weapon, it probably wouldn't be the best idea to put anything sharp into Ranka's hands right now. The situation as laid out in front of her however seems dire, and dire situations call for drastic action. With a groan Ranka comes to a stop at water's edge and quickly pops open her carving kit, two of the darts she'd been working tumbling to the ground, but her grip finds purchase on the remaining one. Moving with disoriented purpose, Ranka swings her arm rapidly forward and launches her dart, far too early at a glance it seems. It's a common sight to see the members of a ghostwise crew armed with spears on the edges of their raft, stabbing into the waves with practiced ease and coming up with one or two fish from the river. River fishing is a task they're trained to do almost from the time they're physically capable of picking up a fishing spear. It's no surprise then when Ranka's shot sinks deeply into a shark's back, sure the "spear" she was using was an eighth of the size she was used to, but when the fish you're trying to spear is 100 times bigger than the normal fare you're after, old instincts more than cover the hard work. quote:Gonna be busy tomorrow so dropping this now. It'll resolve after whatever Dermid gets up to. Disregard if Dermind somehow kills every shark or drives them off Successful Businessmanga fucked around with this message at 00:09 on May 18, 2018 |
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May 17, 2018 02:11
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 As the illusion of the dragon's roar faded, Dermid pulled himself out of fearful reverie. Even though he knew that it was an illusion, it still sent a quick flash of fear through him before he banished it, as he focused on the occurances in front of him. The spell had been somewhat successful, but the sharks were recovering faster than he was. Focusing, he noticed the bard trudging through the water, the reef sharks close on their tail. "No!" Dermid shouted and ran forward before continuing in Auric, "Lightning lash you and bring you to me." Crackling whips of lightning ripped out of his fingers, wrapping around a shark, trying to find purchase and drag the beast to the Half-Djinn, lightning crackling around him as the air carried him back a few span. "C'mon ladies, haul it, these waters are chummed, and the sharks know it. Not to mention that dragon might come to investigate the roar I just put out. We need to make it to something more sheltered than this beach, stat." quote:Casting Lightning lure (STR save DC 13), moving forward if necessary, pulling the shark 10 feet and dealing 1d8 lightning damage if it ends adjacent to me. Then flying back 10 feet with my class feature. berenzen fucked around with this message at 07:14 on May 17, 2018 |
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May 17, 2018 06:36
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 Squinting a little as he judges the distance, Mazhar wades into the shallow water with slow, measured steps, not wanting to spook the sharks again with his approach. He watches the circling fins like a hawk, the training in his bones superceding whatever memory flaws he's currently struggling with. Then, when the mages next to him throw their bolts, so does he take a step forward, twist his hips and loose the harpoon with a mighty throw and a quick grunt to expel the air from his lungs. The iron hook goes sailing as the coiled line trails behind it, striking one of the aquatic predators true just below the dorsal fin. Immediately, he pulls the line taut, keeping the shark from moving too far. But the beast thrashes mightily against the restraint, and it takes a considerable amount of strength to keep it from ripping the harpoon from his grasp. Moving closer and throwing the harpoon at 1d20+5+1d6=14. Hit whatever shark Dermid doesn't for 1d6+3=6 piercing damage, grappling it with the harpoon.
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May 17, 2018 06:57
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Secca, of course, takes the hand as the two plummet into the water. The sheer rush of adrenaline and mild panic, not to mention the implausibility of holding hands whilst swimming for one's life, is the only reason that Secca finds herself on dry land before her lovely new friend. As thunder and lightning crackle, and, too, does Mazhar's harpoon whistle through the air, she staggers to her feet and loudly cheers Urszula onward, "You're fine, dear one, just keep your feet moving! Worry not about the sharks, I'm sure that our friends can handle them!"
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May 17, 2018 07:07
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With explosive action, the remainder of the crew work in concert in those few moments just before disaster. Dermid FitzCulainn's crackling magicks first light up the scene, a distinct flash of the scent of ozone in the air, when the shark that closes in on Urszula gets too close. The fingers of lightning curve and hit the water with puffs of smoke, wrapping out across the body of the reef shark as it thrashes. It is flung up from the water in a twisting arc, hitting the sand at Dermid's feet as the winds twist about him, carrying him aloft and out of reach of its grasping jaws, as it uselessly tries with its powerful tail and scarred fins to gain purchase. It is stranded, though might be able to make its way back in the water if given the chance.  Across the strait, one of the other two is speared from both ends. Striking the glossy black eye is a well-aimed wooden dart from Ranka's hands that half-blinds it, staining the crystal blue waters with a cloud of dark red blood, distracting it enough and bringing it closer to the surface such that the minotaur's harpoon strikes true just beneath the fin. When the line goes taught, he holds the thrashing creature in hand with all the means to drag it out, given some effort, though it will fight with whatever remaining strength it can. Between the thunderclap of Dermid's attack and the other part of its small pack in terrible danger, the cold-blooded survival instincts of the third shark kick in. It darts and turns tail, with a flick of the fin moving further south into the shallows and out of sight under the glint of the sun above, a beast to live another day as the pack was surely outmatched and out of their element. Thus there is no remaining danger at all for the halfling as she reaches out, grabbing Secca's hand and coming ashore. She's in good spirits, though can't help but let out a light laugh. "I'm not a child, just smaller than you folk, I do know how swimming works. Just you know... Shorter legs." The young woman is still wearing the striped red and white, like a barber's pole, of her prisoner's garb, but had also some leather armor with straps from one of the dwarven thralls, and some overlong breeches that she tore at the knees, complete a red strip of cloth as a bandana. Now that she wasn't in immediate danger, she looked far more brigand than damsel, though lacking any weapons. She came up to stand, looking over at the thrashing shark. "Poor thing! Out of the shallows and into the soup pot..." Her lilting, sing-song accent went well with the irrepressible cheer in her voice, her grin a bit toothy at the prospect of the tables being turned, though the job was still only half-finished for both of them. For the others not focused on the remaining fish, they might notice that while they were engaged in the struggle, the black column of smoke had begun to dissipate, as the fire had been extinguished along the edge of the shallows. Whether that would add urgency or not, remained the prerogative of our daring crew of castaways. Combat ends as no sharks really remain threatening. The one hit with lightning lure by Dermid is functionally helpless and any character can with a coup de grace or two end its misery, though they should do so before it wiggles its way away. Mazhar must succeed at a Athletics check to reel in the other shark or it will break the harpoon and escape. Otherwise we're back to being out of "initiative." +5 XP for a Medium difficulty encounter. +5 XP for saving Urszula Sandydowns, as even if she hasn't said she'd join the crew, she does owe you all a lot and compared to Desider might be more immediately useful in an extra pair of hands.   Both Quill and Rust may arrive on the scene at their leisure now.  Both Jan'ti and Lucy can also arrive shortly, though either as a group with Quill and Rust, or after they make some water, or both. You might coordinate on Discord but don't feel too restricted either way, it's a fluid narrative time.
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May 17, 2018 14:30
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Mazhar hauls in the line with quick, practiced movements... but the shark's vigorous movements prove too much for the already battered harpoon, and the line readily snaps, leaving it to swim off to the deeper waters once more. The minotaur bristles heavily as he tosses aside the spent line. "Too bad. We might have had some fish." He shrugs, not seeming too upset by the ordeal, and wades back onto the sandbank to meet the group. "What now?" Rolled 10 vs 20 athletics. No shark for dinner.
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May 17, 2018 15:15
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Secca, cheerier than ever after a spot of minor heroism and derring-do, says, "Perish the thought, Urszula! I'd never mistake such a vision of beauty for a child." She follows to the beached shark, though doesn't move to strike with her knife. The half-elf, instead, turns her attentions to the minotaur as he stomps back up onto dry land. Secca smiles broadly, "What a throw! I'm sure the sharks would be dining well were it not for your timely intervention." She pauses, briefly, then realizes she's not formally introduced herself. "I'm the Vidame tir Cuothr, Seccacosantza Tolto VII, but you may certainly call me Secca. How should I address you?"
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May 17, 2018 17:40
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Ignoring Secca for a while, Johann shrugs at Mazhar and points towards the supplies he secured a few minutes before. "I salvaged enough materials from the wreckage to make a raft. It's not optimal but enough to bring anyone here to a safe harbor, preferably outside of Dominion territory."
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May 17, 2018 17:53
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Mazhar nods at the serious man. "A raft. Perhaps. First we would need a..." His hands flex, as if grasping for the words, but the helpless expression seems to indicate he fails. "Place. Where we are. Where are we...?" He looks around, slowly, as if he might see a landmark, but all he sees is the half concerned faces of the people around him. Then the half-elf praises him and asks him for his name after giving hers. "Sesso....seccasoza..." He tries to repeat it to no avail. "Secca, yes. My name is Mazhar. I'm sorry. My mind..."
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May 17, 2018 18:17
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The name seems to bring some half-remembered rumors to light, though Secca doesn't press. She nods, sympathetically, as she connects the dots between the minotaur's state and their former host and says, "Ah, well, I'm sure it will come back with time, Mazhar. I'd not claim to know the location of this storm-battered cove, not at all, but I do have a rather fetching name in mind for the lagoon. In the tongue of my people, I've granted it the moniker Laguna Ailuvin." She says, "Perhaps we'll know more of our locale when we settle for the night? I hear tell that those of the proper knowledge can divine such matters from the stars themselves."
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May 17, 2018 18:33
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There's half a moment's irritation on Ranka's face as she looks out to sea and realizes the harpoon she'd found was destroyed, but it passes near instantly. She'd been carelesa enough to drop it and the thing had been soaking in the lagoon for who knows how long. Easy come easy go. It's not surprising that one of the already short Ghostwise has to look up to a gadjo, but Urszula's particularly imposing height strikes a cord of jealousy, and in her already soured mood she ignores the woman, focusing instead on Johann There's a pang of familiarity as she looks at the young man's face, gears grinding away in the back of her. She stares awkwardly until suddenly her gaze takes on a predatory bent, the contents of a near forgotten bounty post coming to mind. This man was a potential incursion point for the things from the depths and close attention would need to be paid. Ranka cursed that Mother Waclawa wasn't with her, the Grand Mother was the Bondar's best exorcist and would know how to handle things. Getting her glare under control, Ranka gives Johann a small nod "If we can scrape together some tools, building a raft or a canoe isn't a problem for me. I'm not a trained boat crafter, but I've been building things on river boats my entire life." Ranka glances over her shoulder at the dissapating smoke and shakes her head. Tapping Mazhar on the leg she says "If that one out there-" she indicates Dermid "-doesn't get around to it, do go give that beastie a thwack or two yeah? Good eating on a shark and we could use the rations." There's another glance toward the smoke, and Ranka takes off at a jog "Not trusting that smoke... Either it's folk like us who escaped and just got spooked, or its surviving crew trying to signal for help. Either way it's not good to leave them be." quote:Forgot my lunch at home, so lunch break post instead of eating~
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May 17, 2018 19:26
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"<Feathered friend!>" Janti exclaims in her native tongue, "<Quill! Meet me there, by the barrels, and I'll wet your beak!>" A wide smile crosses Jan'ti's lips as she makes a break for the small island. "With me," She calls out to Lucy. "This way!" For the first time since she had boarded the DNS Ceaseless, Jan'ti is at home in the water. Her stride slices through the lagoon with ease. The water threatens to consume more and more of Jan'ti every step; first her feet, then her ankles, then her knees, up to her waist. She is undeterred. Jan'ti leans forward as the water consumes her lower torso and spreads her arms wide. In a moment, her steps become leaps and with a single breaststroke, the genasi takes flight. Nothing came more naturally in the world. There is a moment, a brief moment, where she forgets Herapetra; where she forgets Danel. For the first time since she had boarded the DNS Ceaseless, Jan'ti laughs. There is sand under Jan'ti's feet again before she knows it. Reality fades back into view. Arrisshat, Hiram, Izavel, and Philosir were all still gone. Taken by the Dominion, or the Dragon, or the Sea. Take your pick. Jan'ti had not heard Danel's confession or savored as the man begged for his life. Jan'ti dunks her head underneath the water one last time before the water gets too shallow. She drags her feet in the shallows and along the beach, taking a moment to mourn her brief release and slumps against the barrels when she reaches them. Jan'ti buries her head in her hands as the world spins about her. There would be water soon. Freshwater. As much as she could drink. Jan'ti moves to point A. She is calling out to Quill in Ornassi. GenuineRevelry fucked around with this message at 21:00 on May 17, 2018 |
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May 17, 2018 20:34
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 A voice carried on the wind catches Quill's attention from his worry about the cause of this island's unnatural ecosystem, it was a voice that was far more welcome than the voice of Noisy Half-Elf was, especially when delivered in his native tongue it was the sound of the Sea Druid who he'd met in the hold also. He tugs on Rust's sleeve and points up the length of the beach. "Friends! Quickly!" Before rushing off ahead to meet in the middle of this beach. Quill heads towards Point A, to meet up with Jan'ti Quill was pretty tuckered out by the time he arrived, but it felt good to know that there were other survivors alive and well. As well as you can be on a desert island that may or may not be housing an intelligent super-predator and giant insects, as he slows down his sprint, and catches his breath, he shuffles up to Jan'Ti seeing her slumped over the barrels, he taps her on the shoulder. "Well? Okay? Need Help?" He looked around from where he was stood at the moment, over in the lagoon he saw the Noisy Half Elf, the Fellow Historian, and three others he didn't quite know the names of, but remembered being present at the Mutiny.
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May 17, 2018 21:10
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Feelings of joy and relief play inside Lucielle as she spots Quill. She's glad to see that another one of them was still alive. The same, however, cannot be said to the person who's right next to her bird friend. Her smile quickly turns into a frown when she sees the man she has a personal distaste for, Rust. While she may not outright hate him, she doesn't trust him, either, and is not a fan of his "methods." The sour taste in her mouth doesn't last long, though. The sight of others is still enough to put her in good spirits. "Got it!" She says to Jan'ti, before she follows behind her, her body filled with a sudden rush of energy as she could feel her confidence returning back to her. Lucy swims across the lagoon, keeping pace with the genasi, her body no longer feeling as tired as it did before, and by the time she reaches the land again, she has completely forgotten about how frightened she felt a few minutes ago. "She'll be fine. She just needs some fresh water to drink," says Lucy, as she steps back onto land. She smiles at the Kenku, "Glad you made it out alive, too, Quill." Lucy is also moving to Point A! Tardzilla fucked around with this message at 21:16 on May 17, 2018 |
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May 17, 2018 21:11
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"Thank you" The more people Quill saw alive the more his spirits felt lifted, he turned back to tired Janti after pleasantries were exchanged. Water, water, well the Salt water wasn't very good to drink he knew that, he reached into his scavenged backpack and gave one water-skin to Lucielle and one to Jan'ti, before trying to find one more in the barrels nearby. Quill hands off the two water-skins he has to Jan'ti and Lucielle and then attempts to find some more, to share around the four of them, but doesn't roll well on his Investigation  Without much luck, he draws his head out of the barrel and shakes it. "Empty. Need water?" He reaches into his robe and lays a talon onto his holy symbol, waiting for an answer.
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May 17, 2018 21:58
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Jan'ti smiles as she graciously accepts the waterskin. The exile had been friendly and kind but it had been so very long since anyone had inquired about her well being. The genasi presses her palms into her closed eyes and nods in response to Quill, "<Thank you, friend. I will be fine in a moment.>" Jan'ti stands on shaky legs. She's exerted too much energy too often, given her time in the hold. The Ceaseless had set course from Herapetra and Jan'ti had been among the first paraded aboard. It was a miracle she was still capable of such feats of athleticism at all. The genasi stumbles over to the tin bucket and peaks inside to find, much to her confusion, a bundle of crabs. Jan'ti stands and moves to one of the barrels. She carefully lowers the tin bucket inside until she's all but disappeared in and safely dumps the crabs out to scuttle around in their new home. Jan'ti suddenly lurches upward, clutching onto the barrel's rim as she catches herself. She turns a shade deeper green than her usual seafoam affair, and for a moment, everyone around her is sure it would be better to get some distance. Yet, it is not to be. Only a long, awkward moment as the genasi centers herself and the wave of relief that follows. Jan'ti places the bucket before the gathered group, "Please. Fill barrel." She points to remaining empty barrel, "I will prepare." Jan'ti is going to prepare and, subsequently, cast Purify Food and Drink. GenuineRevelry fucked around with this message at 22:25 on May 17, 2018 |
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May 17, 2018 22:19
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Quill was a little confused with what she needed of him at first, but then remembered about Druid magic's ability to be able to take seawater and turn it drinkable. Come to think of it he could do that as well but he didn't have the knowledge of how to on hand, not until he could take a short rest. He nods in acknowledgment instead and begins to fill the barrel with the now emptied bucket. TheNabster fucked around with this message at 22:35 on May 17, 2018 |
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May 17, 2018 22:29
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 Rust gets into earshot of the larger group as Ranka is discussing the campfire that has been put out across the tree line getting himself more mad as he closed in on the group. "Or worse. where we came from there was signs of what looked like logging. Someone's here and they are established. And now one of you idjits just rang the dinner bell the entire thrice-damned island with whatever that dragon roar was. Whatever we do, we need to get off this beach because we're exposed." He points his thumb over his shoulder at Quill, "Clucker has some stuff back where we came from, and there's a chest from the ship that was washed up, but it's all wrapped up in silk. Big spiders most likely. We ought to go back there, bash the bugs, grab the goods, and scoot inland before we find out what's looking for us. There was a water stream where we came from, we may be able to get fresh water from there rather than whatever it is you're doing now."
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May 17, 2018 23:22
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"What, you didn't know each other before the mutiny?" Urszula, of all things, seemed taken aback in surprise. "It was because of all of you that the Magistrate was thrown overboard, we though surely you were working together." The unspoken we in this case seeming to be the rest of the prisoners. Indeed, though there had been one or two that had helped, the nine castaways of our story were the core of that mutinous action, and could claim it easily. As some introductions were made, Urszula butted in just after Mazhar, and before Johann or Dermid could, brimming with exhilarated enthusiasm after her resuce. "Urszula Sandydowns, if it please. I'm... not much of anybody, but very grateful." As they dealt with the shark, her eyes trailed over first over towards the lagoon, where she saw some of the others, and she gave a bit of a wave in their direction, but then seemed to remember something, turning back. "Oh! You were not awake for long, right? There were some redcoats further down in the shallows. They were moving in on the fire, I saw a few other survivors in a boat beaching that way, I think they recovered the ship's launch. But they were few, and the redcoats many." No one conscious could remember any sounds of fighting or the like. "I tried to signal but I passed out into the head, until I could just barely see this man here," beaming a bit at Dermid, before turning pensive. "... Where did the other halfling go?" Turning back over to the other side of the beach, where Ranka had left to scout ahead. E. Castaways' Camp  Ranka makes her way along the sandy coast. The jungle grows even further from the water near the shallows, and with the ebbing tide there's a good twenty yards between the water and the cover of the treeline, but it does still effectively work to cut off line of sight, and she cannot see any of the other castaways. As she makes her approach to where the smoke was coming from, one of the first things she notices is on the ground are more bodies, but these are not the bloated corpses washed up from the sea. They are relatively fresh, though still having collected some scavengers. The bodies are lobsterbacks, curled up in their own blood, having been shot or stabbed, it varies from each one, but there is little signs that it was terribly violent: They were shot in the back, while moving in your direction it would seem. The halfling counts four dead lobsterbacks, but one is being dragged away by an especially large scavenger: a giant centipede with bright red-orange appendages and mandibles, its antenna twitching. It is long enough to stretch out six yards past the treeline without you seeing its other end, grab one of the bodies and start snaking back, to drag it into the undergrowth, its legs moving in a wave-like motion as it does with a disconcerting elegance. Giving it a wide berth, she also doesn't have many options for cover without going near the increasingly dangerous seeming jungle, but she does her best to inch her way along the coast, and finds perhaps five more bodies along the way, leading to what appears to be a shipwreck: though it does not appear to be the Ceaseless, but a smaller vessel, like a sloop. Near a smoking fire-pit, she sees a single individual, sitting and leaning back on a large, metal-banded wooden chest. One of his feet is lifted up so that he can polish it, and he works on it with a cloth damp with oil, blackening it to a fine sheen. The mocha-skinned Sintalese man appears young, with a braided topknot and otherwise shaven pate, and white tattoos adorning his face in a ritualistic pattern. He wears fine clothing that does not fit him well (one can surmise from the prominent neck ruffles, which he has loosened somewhat, that it was likely from the Magistrate's wardrobe), and has perched on his shoulder a pied crow. Letting his boot hit back against the sand, he reaches into the inner breast pocket and pulls out a fine dark wood flask, which has leather cut and sewn in an intricate pattern that shows off the carved design without sacrificing grip. Ranka can appreciate the craftsmanship, because she knows that it is her flask, and the Sintali drinks from it quite deeply, before brushing it off his lips and looking down in her direction. There was not much means to hide, and he seemed to be waiting, without any obvious ill-intent or weapons near him. However, him sitting there alone, unarmed, amidst all the dead lobsterbacks, hardly makes the camp feel welcoming. "Ah! Another exile of the zee! Better company than a wyrm, and zertainly more comely." The crow caws and its head seems to turn, looking in different directions. This was a tell that Ranka, living in the line of work she did, learned from the cutthroats she encountered on the hunt. Many of these sorts loved to keep pets as little symbols of their wealth, but animals rarely are "in" on a plan. Too often, their wandering eyes are indications of other, hidden vantages. When Ranka follows the crow's gaze, she sees a shadow peaking out from behind the dinghy, placed up on its side as if for cover, and sees a shape move ever so slightly behind a crate on the shipwrecked sloop's deck. That's at least two others that are hidden, though whether in ambush or caution... Is there much a difference in this line of work? "Zay, tell me, thought to scare Nax from his earned plunder with a trick of the wind? And zend a little scout before they come marching one-by-one? That did not fair well for the last to try, little dove."  Your passive perception beats both the Stealth checks of the hidden cutthroats. You can see their location below marked with red X's. You can easily escape now without moving forward, as you noticed far before you would be in close range. The rest at the shoal could arrive shortly if alerted, but not immediately. What do you do? Mazhar, Secca, Dermid, and Johann are close enough to arrive in short order at [E] and the castaway camp there if they follow after where Ranka left off to, but something might go down as they are going there depending on what Ranka does. If you do, just describe that you are heading that way, at what pace and what you might be expecting/prepared for. Quill, Lucielle, Rust and Jan'ti are on the Lagoon Island at [A] though within shouting earshot of the folks at the shoal. If they begin to move along down the south, it will take them a bit longer. The ritual casting will take 10 minutes so will be likely be long enough to move through the entirety of the encounter if Jan'ti's attentions aren't pulled elsewhere. Updated relative positions for everyone per the map below. 
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May 17, 2018 23:50
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Ranka runs through a full gamut of emotions as she rounds the bend, surprised shock at seeing more corpses, mild alarm at the giant centipede as it scurries away, pleasure as it appears there's even more survivors of the mutiny, and finally irritation when she realizes it's one of the Sintali. Ranka let's out a sigh, she's dealt with some fine sintalese folk in her time, but the likelyhood of this being one? Pretty low given that he was likely on a prison ship alongside folk like that possessed man back at the beach. Ranka's circuit of emotions comes to a dead stop when the man takes a drink from a flask, her flask! Surprise, alarm, pleasure, and irritation are swept aside as a cold fury begins to roil away in her guts. Ranka's footsteps are rock solid as she walks forward, the heed paid to her land sickness pushed aside in sight of medicine so close. Shaking her head she points at the man's bird with her staff <"Boy"> Ranka pulls from what little of the spoken side of sintali she knows, using a descriptor reserved for a child in need of scolding before slipping back into the common tongue "today is a very, very! Bad day to screw around with me." Ranka lets out a brief sigh as she moves her staff from the bird and points to the dinghy "You! Mindful of the sun's place if you're going to bother hiding, I could see you a mile off." Her staff whistles through the air as she violently points it toward the sloop "You? You're not even fully behind that crate you moron, I could hit you with a dart if I had a mind to do it and you wouldn't be able to do a drat thing about it." Ranka doesn't even bother to stop pointing as she turns her gaze on Nax "Worst of all? You. If you're going to keep a pet? Try to train it not to look at the people you're working with." She clicks her tongue in irritation and spits "Ranka Volyn, I don't care if you've heard of me. I've been beating the ever living poo poo out of people like you for the last 15 years. That's seemingly behind me for now given this whole mess, but in this moment? You've got something of mine and I'll have it back." There's an errant pause as Ranka lets her words sink in, but soon enough she finally swings the staff in Rax's direction, pointing directly at her flask "Now you can go on and give me my flask back, and maybe I put in a good word with the other survivors we've gathered up." She plants the staff back in the ground "Or maybe you do something stupid, I crack this staff here off your head a few dozen times, and I use you all for bait in my crab traps." quote:Trying to Intimidate this prick into backing down/giving me my flask back
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May 18, 2018 00:52
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"I worked enough with the Minotaur." Johann gives a small handwave at Mazhar. "Although I didn't knew it was a mutiny until we already killed the octopus head. I am Johann." He says back to Urszula, his eyes glancing around the group before it splits away. A bounty hunter who he heard before, another pirate who struck him the wrong way. As awful as the Dominion was, the people that were brought together in the Ceaseless seemed to be no angels... Himself included. "Anyone knows what to do about the dragon once the raft is ready?"
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May 18, 2018 01:07
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With the halfling seemingly quick to cast off on her own around the coast even after he called out after her, Rust sighs and pinches his nose again. "It's like nobody even listens to me" He pulls the crossbow off his back and shoulders it, speaking out "Well, I may as well go out after her, maybe I can intercept her through the trees." to nobody in particular and begins to prowl through the jungle, keeping an eye on the shadows. ---------- I was kind of hoping we would get a "is anyone going with Ranka" before she started off on her own scene. Going to try and shortcut through the jungle to get up on her since according to the map I'm still on the shore of the main island. I wouldn't have jumped in the salt water again willingly anyways. Stealth bastard roll = 19, passive perception 14 to spot anyone creeping up on me
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May 18, 2018 01:23
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At Urszula's mention, Secca scans the crowd for Ranka. How odd! Her wave-sister-in-arms seems to have vanished. A half-heard comment surfaces in her mind, though, and she says, "Ah! I do believe she was going to check the smoke from earlier. It would be amiss to leave her to do such a task by her lonesome. I will, of course, throw myself into it, but shall any others accompany?" Regardless of the response, or indeed the lack thereof, Secca begins to march in determined fashion after Ranka at something of an aggressive jog. A tune whistles from her lips as she continues on and it seems clear that she's in quite good spirits despite the shipwreck and subsequent mess with the sharks. The thought of combat isn't at the forefront of her mind, though it sounds as if the survivors likely fell to the redcoat assault, but she's kept the knife at hand. If diplomacy is possible, she'll charm the very trousers off any who might be open to solving matters with words. The allure of proper pantaloons, instead of a makeshift skirt, is no small draw. Tricky fucked around with this message at 02:13 on May 18, 2018 |
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May 18, 2018 01:57
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E. Castaways' Camp The braggadocio on display is not what was expected in the slightest, and the Sintalese man's breath is all but taken away. His eyes dart along with hers to the other positions, and he gives a nervous, white-toothed grin as he turns back and holds his gaze on her with growing intensity through all of it. Of course, his pride his pricked by the little halfling's shutdown, but a Sintali man always prefers a position of apparent weakness, and they are known for being like fowl, as it simply washes over him like water from the back of a swan. That isn't to say it doesn't have an effect. He is cowed, most certainly, raising his free hand with fingers outstretched, and with the other, tossing the flask in her direction. The crow caws in its best attempt at menace, and more effects annoyance. "Zea davaro marviggio! I am undone! Of course, it waz not Nax's idea, the others thought that he would be, least threatening." "Enough." The word comes like a bark, as the one that was on the ship comes to sand. It is a hobgoblin with sallow flesh, ugly even for his kind, with prominent scarring especially around his bare scalp, with metal staples in, usually a sign of Dominion tampering. "No talk. Don't move." Wearing a breastplate recovered from the captain of the redcoats, as well as part of their uniform, he has slung under each arm a caviler, braced and with each barrel pointed down now at Ranka. "Is this when the killing starts." From behind the dinghy, a Vendal woman in mostly ragged clothing, some padded pieces placed together haphazardly, with long stringy red hair that covers msot of her face, raises up as well, revealing herself as she draws two shortswords, held flat against her forearm. "It was getting boring waiting." Her voice is dull, with a blunted affect, almost mumbled through. Nax for his part has no weapons, and makes no threatening move, both hands up. However, Ranka can hear, just at the edge of her mind, a voice. It's not like the silent speech, which simply sounds like words coming forth, but a little more edged, like something creeping up behind it. Not completely unlike the way the squids can speak inside your head, when they aren't using their speaking stones. <Zay, how many in Ranka Volyn's party? If she is azz dangerous as Nax Tirrinu, we kill the other two, and Nax joins the winning team. He sharez, not like the corzair, or the zwardwoman.> Not missing a beat, Ranka snatches her flask from the air and drains what little remains from it, even as the two playing at hiding reveal themselves. As they make their threats, she wipes her face, relief palpable, even though the liquor in the flask hasn't had time to hit her system. Glancing up toward her would-be assailants, she casually lets her quarterstaff tumble to the ground at her feet and rests her hands on her head, flask clasped between them, silent as asked. When the voice creeps into her head, she's all too happy to respond <"Can't say as I would have expected this. But to answer your question there's another 8 or so, some bigguns, some loud ones like the dragon you heard too."> <A zerpent-charmer, is she? Ranka Volyn is mozt impressive.> Whether he actually believe it or not, it was difficult to say. <Nax will follow when she make her move, conzider it a Sintalese promise.> A Sintalese promise is a peculiar thing. It is always given in a time where trust is not assured. It doesn't actually offer any guarantee that the giver will make good on the promise, except their honor and reputation, but it means that the person promised will owe the Sintali something if they do, if accepted... which in the Sintalese culture, makes it very much more likely that they will keep the promise. They are always transactional, in a way that would make a Guilder dwarf blush. The Vendalic woman approaches now, ready to collect and guide the prisoner back towards the ship. "The hold. Tied up." The hobgoblin barks out again in a gruesome growl. "Wait for the others. Bait." Seccacosantza has her noble sensibilities assaulted by what appears to be a recent battlefield of corpses, fresh by comparison to the bloated bodies on the Lagoon island, and by the sight of bloodshed somehow a little more difficult to stomach. She maneuvers about the same way as Ranka, not at first seeing any sign of her save her slight footprints on the sand, until she starts hearing a voice, barking in the distance. There is someone else out there, and it doesn't sound good. Especially when it says "Wait for the others. Bait." Rounding the bend, she can just see the battlefield in sight. There were two figures near Ranka, as well as the hobgoblin barking orders down the barrel of two cavilers from the deck of a shipwreck's hull.  Roll initiative and prepare your first action.  Rust's impromptu trek through the jungle is somewhat slowed by the thick undergrowth, and without any tools to hack away through it he makes slow progress, yet he is careful and considerate with his movement, able to twist back and forth through the vines as he approaches, unheard. He more than once sees the twisting of an antenna, or hears the stridulations of some awful creature in the dim darkness of the undergrowth, where only tiny shafts of light from above peak through. The most harrowing moment is when he realizes just before he places his foot down that his pathway is blocked by the glossy black carapace of a giant centipede, which twists like a little black stream in front of him. He waits, patiently, for it to pass, and it seems to not notice... but to his dismay, he finds it is dragging a body, that of a recently slain lobsterback, in its bright red-orange mandibles. Better a red than him, one could suppose. He does finally make it there to the end, right at the edge, and can hear a barking voice heard over the crashing of the waves. Crossbow cocked and ready, he shifts forward and can spy through a small break in the jungle opening the scene before him. An ugly hobgoblin with two calivers in his arms, as well as Vendal cuthroat and some Sintalese man with his hands in the air, seem to have their attention completely on Ranka in this moment. Rust remembers these three. During the mutiny, they attempted to recruit him to abandon the rest of the crew. They had a plan to bust the treasure and move out in the dinghy while the others were distracting the mind flayer. Rust, perhaps rightly, called it foolish, because if the flayer lived, they had no hope, but they seemed gambling sorts. The hobgoblin was an Aridian Corsair, not to be trifled with. The Vendal, he heard, was named Sunniva, and had killed twenty men in a spree in Pretala, including a Dominion dignitary, though for what reason seemed dubious. The Sintali he knew by Nax, because he said that name quite a bit, but he had no earthly idea what he was doing on the vessel. It definitely seemed like he belonged there, just as Rust did. Just as Rust was getting a grasp of the situation however, it felt like the scene was about to escalate. It was soon time to make a move, as the tension came to a corded knot... and snapped. Your Stealth check was a success. Roll Initiative. Because of Ranka's impending action, no chance of a surprise round, but you will have Advantage on your first attack, as well as some cover.
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May 18, 2018 02:38
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Ranka isn't particularly taken with the idea of being chained up again so soon, certainly not by a pair of amateurs like these. The Sintali's word meant all of two copper to Ranka, his people had been robbing hers for well longer that she'd been alive, but any potential ally in a situation like this was worth considering. Raising an eyebrow Ranka lets the corners of her mouth droop as she responds <"I expect you'll recognize the signal when it comes."> Standing still Ranka allows the Vendal to approach, and at the very last moment kicks her quarterstaff into the air and starts swinging. quote:Rolled a nat one on initiative, Halfling Lucky turns it into a 21 Initiative.
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May 18, 2018 02:44
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Secca looks upon all the dead bodies with no small amount of revulsion, but hearing the voices ahead she readies her lute and ensures that her knife is in easy reach. Just in case. She rounds the bend to see a number of figures around her dear friend, Ranka, and they do not look like the savory sort of mutineer she cares to surround herself. It seems obvious enough, even to her, that perhaps words would not save this situation. Luckily, her magic was almost as well-honed as her silver tongue! That's a 10 on initiative.
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May 18, 2018 03:16
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As Rust clears is way over the threshold over the camp, he can see the scuffle now. He hears the Hobgoblin say the word bait as the branch snaps under Rust's foot. As the hobgoblin turns to face him, Rust belts out "Right bait. Wrong prey." as he fires a shot at the Hobgoblin's direction. The first shot strikes the wood railing, penetrating through and sinking into the hobgoblin's shoulder. With a practices air that was trained into him, Rust has the draw of the crossbow pulled back and in one swift motion looses another downrange, Landing squarely in the hobgoblin's thigh. Rust spins and puts his back against a tree before shouting "You fuckwits still trying to bumblefuck your way through life? You don't go back to pirating before you even leave the goddamned island you're stranded on." ---------- Initiative 20 I'm using a hero point on the hobgoblin to make the first hit connect, According to TDN his AC is 18 so even a +1 upgrades the first attack to a hit. Action surging and using it to lob another bolt at the hobgoblin. 15 damage. Using my move action to duck behind a tree for cover. DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 03:53 on May 18, 2018 |
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May 18, 2018 03:43
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When the halfling kicks up her staff in hand, the Vendal's expression hardens and the hobgoblin Ganzorig's muscles twitch. He makes to squeeze on the trigger of his caviler, having readied it in case she made to make for a strike, but her waiting until the Vendal got close means that both Rust and Secca have arrived as well. A gunshot rings through the air with a flash from the muzzle, and with a whistling sound the bullet strikes the side of her shoulder with significant force and a small splash of red, shattering into many pieces and embedding in the tendons of her muscles, hitting up against bone and sinew. It is a serious wound, but aid has already come. With a shunting sound, two bolts lodge themselves in the hobgoblins body as he lets out a gutteral cry, hunching over. Landing one one knee as the leg that was hit in the t high collapses under him, both Ranka and Secca can see from the woods a hidden bandit of their own, as Rust Freewind draws first blood, which comes out in rivulets from the hobgoblin's armor. The sound of Ganzorig's gunshot rings out and echoes all over the deathly quiet island, heard at the those at the lagoon whether they stayed or followed Rust, and at the shoal not too far away. It is unmistakable what this means.  Battle is joined.  Round One. Ganzorig the Hobgoblin Corsair has a AC of 16 (18 in partial cover) and 32 max HP. He has 17 HP left. Sunniva the Vendal Murderer has a AC of 13, and 32 max HP. Nax Tirrinu the Sintali has a AC of 14, and 24 max HP. Ranka takes [7] HP of wounds from Ganzorig the hobgoblin's caviler shot, which was a Held Action if she made an aggressive move, which she did. Initiative is Flood (Players) then Ebb (Dungeon Master). Rust has taken his action. Secca and Ranka, you may take your action. Mazhar, Dermid, and Johann, you may declare your intent to join combat by saying you followed after Secca when she left, and now a bit more hurried once you heard the gunshot. You will join on Round Two. Jan'ti, Quill, and Lucielle, you may declare your intent to join combat by saying you followed after Rust through the jungle, and now a bit more hurried once you heard the gunshot. I will need you to make Stealth or Survival checks however (your choice), because the jungles are not safe. Depending on the results, you will join on Round Three. Tricky Dick Nixon fucked around with this message at 04:07 on May 18, 2018 |
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May 18, 2018 03:54
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"Locals." Johann mumbles as the gunshot echoes through the beach. He unsheathes the scimitar on his belt and calmly heads towards the direction of where the hobgoblin let out the shot, clenching his teeth as he sees the pirates' squabble. "Killing each other as soon as you wake up from disaster? You are all fools!"
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May 18, 2018 04:00
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Secca holds a hand to her mouth for a moment, horrified by people she likes getting shot, then regains her composure. Strumming a few discordant chords, she whispers a single word in her native tongue, "Flee." The sound, unnaturally carrying on the wind straight to the hateful hobgoblin's ears, will surely strike at the craven villain's heart. Much louder, such that Ranka can hear her, the half-elf adds, "Stand strong! We descend upon them in numbers, sister!" Now, of course, she only knew that there was another in the trees. Hopefully the man had brought his own friends. Casting Dissonant Whispers (WIS DC14 for half/no move, 10 psychic damage + reaction to move away) on Ganzorig and providing Ranka some Bardic Inspiration. Tricky fucked around with this message at 04:26 on May 18, 2018 |
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May 18, 2018 04:08
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