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Apr 26, 2014

Death, but with a gun

Quill watched the entire progress of Rust climbing up and down the shaft with the supply crates with his talons in his mouth, he was very visibly under pressure for most of this before they even arrived at the hole and the tense moment of this entire plan in motion was almost making him dizzy from the stress. It evaporated the moment Rust came back to the surface, unharmed and with the strongbox in tow in sheer elation, embracing Urszula as she embraced him, and then also embracing Rust whether he wanted it or not.

"<Thank you thank you thank you.>" He said in Ornassi, trying not to cry in front of everyone else. He broke it off feeling a little awkward about hugging a notorious pirate in front of everyone, and got down to business. The moment the strongbox was open, Quill had picked up the manuscript, ran a few feet away from the party and began obsessively checking it for damage. Fortunately the leather casing around the book had kept it safe, and satisfied, he secreted it back onto his person where it belonged.

Quill regains the Manuscript

Returning to the party, he walked up and looked around the group. "Thank you all, happy to help before, even more happy now, celebrations! But first, supplies" Quill walked out of sight for a moment

I will spend a Hero Point to use its 3rd power of 'create narrative contrivance'. In this case I will say that we brought along the busted dinghy from the camp to use it as a sled of sorts, which would make carting all these supplies back to the camp a lot easier. Unless we wish to leave some of the Miner's kits behind I see no pressing reason why we can't take everything.

Huffling and puffing with the effort, he dragged the small damaged boat over to the group before laying it down, and flopping down onto his haunches in the sand. "Would like, help to load boat, please."

HP: 8/8 AC: 16 Hero Points: 2/3 HD: 1/1d8
Prepared Spells: 5(+2) Spell Slots - Lvl.1: 0/2
Cantrips; Guidance, Spare the Dying, Thaumaturgy
Level 1; Bless, Command, Detect Magic, Guiding Bolt, Healing Word, Identify, Sanctuary


Aug 12, 2010

Decor Aficionado

Jan'ti covers her mouth to hide the growing smile as she watches Quill embrace Rust. Her eyes insist on giving her away and the genasi instead moves to cross her arms over her chest and embrace the amusement she's found in the moment with a small laugh. It's touching, really, and for a moment they really do seem to be bonding. She slips by Mazhar, touching the bullfolk's forearm and offering a small smile as she passes. "<Impressive as ever.>" Jan'ti softly offers in Hyklosian though she doesn't stick close by for very long.

"Always welcome, Quill." The smile just won't fade off her lips as the crowfolk gives his ecstatic thanks. Should he not completely resist, Jan'ti gently ruffles the feathers on Quill's head before he can slip away into into the surrounding wilds. It's in that moment that Jan'ti looks to Rust. The contempt is gone but there's no lack of reservations as she begins to speak in Ornassi, "<Not sure you know what you were getting. Not sure you would have cared if you did.>" The spiritfolk woman shrugs her shoulders and glances sidelong off into the distance, "<But you didn't have to go down there alone. Maybe you're not so rotten after all.>"

Once Quill returns with the boat, Jan'ti moves to help him load it.

Mar 25, 2011

Johann crosses his arms and stares at the Kobolds, a grim gleam coming from his eyes. As enticing as the two women might look with their promises, sometimes to resolve problems you might need a more... Forceful... Approach. "It is not in my interest to kill anyone who isn't involved on the circumstances that led to my death, and I have nothing to gain from antagonizing you, but if you attempt to put chains on me or in the people that assisted me, I won't balk at flaying every single of you whelps!" With that said and done, he shoots a powerful blast of eldritch energy from his right hand at one of the stalagmites on the cave's floor near Vett, exploding it into pieces!

"Now. I believe you will do well on listening the Bard." He calmly says after making his point.

Rolled a 24 on intimidate!

May 19, 2011

Everything by design.

Mazhar starts loading up the boat without hesitation, moving the great sacks of flour and salt with relative ease. At Quill's direction, he stacks them up in the dinghy, not at all bothered by the manual labor. In fact, it seemed to bring a calm focus to the minotaur's appearance, as he directed himself through the chore with impassive determination. Once the dinghy is all loaded up, he nods. "I believe that is all of it," he grunts, rolling his shoulders a little, "shall we head back to camp?" Looping the rope across his broad torso, he gives a great heave, and the boat sets into motion well enough.

Mazhar will drag the boat into the water if it's in sailing order and pull it along with the rope. Otherwise, he'll drag it along the sand.

Apr 24, 2008

I fucking hate puzzles.

Rust makes no motion to return the Kenku's hug. He sighs halfheartedly and says "Don't thank me until we're off of this island. That book does you no good if we die here to giant spiders or worse." Pulling away from Quill's grasp, he adds solemnly "Let's get this packed up and get moving. We're burning daylight and we don't have long before the storm is upon us. I'd much rather be established inland before the poo poo flies. Rain should also give us a chance to collect fresh water rather than having to burn effort purifying it."

Tricky Dick Nixon
Jul 26, 2010

The body is but a vessel for the soul, a puppet which bends to the soul's tyranny. And lo, the body is not eternal, for it must feed on the flesh of others, lest it return to the dust from whence it came. Therefore must the soul deceive, despise and murder men.

Johann's display really is only for the benefit of Vett, visually, since he is trapped in the burrow with the kobold, and the unseen Sekk is on the other side. But the creature can hear him, giving a mewling snarl. He can hear its voice faintly through the stones. "Sorcerer! Will enslave us! Dark powers!"

Alone, either would have been enough. To assauge his suspicions, or to cow him. But together, the efforts of our crew work at cross purposes, and proves the kobold correct: They are not of one mind, and would gladly betray or commit violence to the kobolds if it suited them.

"Liar! Liar! Lies! Lying liars lie" You can hear the voice fiantly going away, as it scurries off, certainly afraid of the power on display. It is liable to never seek to bother you again, cowed, but it does not and will not trust you next time you do cross paths, if the lone kobold is not devoured by the creatures of this island. They don't fare well alone.

Vett is dejected. He yaps and calls out in vain, clawing at the stones to move them. His nose twitches and his eyes begin to bulge and the lids puff up, and there are tears there. "Sekk! Brother! Pllleaaase don't leave me alone here with them!" He would collapse into sobbing if it were not for the absolute grip of fear in his heart.

He wheels around, tearing off his clothes and planting his face down in the dirt, rubbing it and sobbing in the mud in submission, a simpering kobold display. "White ghost is captain now! Vett gives it up! He doesn't want to be captain! He was no good, very bad, don't kill him! He'll dig way out, give him time, promise, just don't kill."

Assuredly, none of you have quite a black enough heart to kill it, especially since it's liably your best way out. Eventually its groveling ends, either with another threat or maybe an attempt to assuage it, but really Vett is beside itself, his second half having abandoned it, yet he works tirelessly. Fear is a good motivator for kobolds, and no matter their sentimentality, their self-preservation instincts kick in overriding all else. It begins to dig, kicking dirt and rocks, and moving it at an alarming, almost preternatural rate.

It takes perhaps half an hour, but this one diminuitive creature clears out the cave-in completely. It is almost impressive, and begs what a group of them could do in concert, or with tools. No wonder they are so prized in the mines of the Gembleed Coast.

Even if you turn it down the first few times, Vett will spend most of the rest of the time in your presence as you make way in camp trying to bribe his way into safety. He will say he is "not stupid" when first refused as he understands that someone as low as him is undeserving. The loot the kobolds had put together is no great hoard, but contains some interesting items. Still, if his bribes are refused twice, he will at least keep the coins for himself.

You can return to the camp without issue. Going further into the tunnels is possible but would move into the third time slot due to the delay caused by the cave-in. If you want to ask Vett questions, hit me up in one of the IC Discord channels, he may have some information, but Sekk's abandonment has put him in a despondent mood so he won't volunteer much. Still, he fears you enough to answer any questions you might have.

Plunder posted:

- twelve golden doubloons (48 gp)
- fifty-two quatroons (26 gp)
- sixteen silver crowns (32 sp)
- an Imperial ducat (1 pp)
- sixty-two silver shillings (124 sp)
- a hundred and five silver dinar (105 sp)
- thirty six copper farthings (36 cp)
- two tanglefoot bags, alchemical creations that essentially act as the web spell, with a save DC of 12
- a fine egg-shapped aquamarine (250 gp value) that seemed to be tossed aside like trash, likely because it wasn't metal
- Ranka's tin bucket
- brass fittings recovered from local shipwrecks in an unusually high amount, could be used to reinforce a raft that is constructed
- a Praxian chakram made of lunargent (as dart but is slashing and returns to hand once thrown) [detects as magical, conjuration]
- an intact spyglass

Despite the cave-in, the tunnel spelunkers are the first of the crew to return back to camp. They find Desider is already at work cooking their afternoon meal, mostly focused on the vegetables recovered from the salt marshes since a good number of the crabs had been stolen and feasted upon previously by the interlopers. He also makes to fry one of the tins of "spare meat", for anyone brave enough to try (it's actually quite good, especially compared to the shark of the night before, but somehow that makes their dubious origin even worse). He immediately puts Vett to work acting as his hands, and the kobold seems to do better with the work, getting his mind off of the events at the cage slightly. Desider doesn't make much of the newfound crewmember, only commenting that it wouldn't be a proper crew without a bilge rat.

Soon after, it is Ranka that returns with Nax and Dermid in tow. They had gone the furthest distance, but didn't make many stops. Ranka tried to make most of the distance with the soggy wet sails folded up and tied down at her back, but eventually the burden was shared when Nax wordlessly made to pick up the load himself and carried it the rest of the way once they got back through the mangrove swamps around the cape. He screws up his nose at the kobold. "No creature is in more need of a barber than this one, Nax says." The kobold bristles at the very thought of its fur being groomed, and since it's caked with mud from its previous submissive display, it rolls around in the sand defiantly to give itself another layer of crust at the very thought.

Finally, came the Freewind and the rest of the others, pulling along with the mighty shoulders of the Headsman a dinghy laden with some recovered supplies from the spider's nest. Urszula is thrilled by the smell of the food, but quickly her excitement dies down to a weak smile when she realizes that there's an empty spare meat tin that's currently being gnawed on by a kobold. "Well, always good to meet a new face, I suppose," she manages, her stomach turning at the thought of eating that Dominion delicacy. But at this point, the noon sun is affixed up in the sky, and they can see out on the horizon an imposing wall of clouds and squall lines ready to beset upon the island. They would have hours before the storm made landfall, and it crackled with thunder and fury. It was likely to be a violent one, and it seemed to twist with almost a malevolence equal to the foreboding of the island itself.

Between Scylla and Charybdis, our castaways had only a short rest before they would have to make out for their final expedition upriver, and enjoy each other's company, as well as discuss what they had found and their next steps ahead.

Another round-fire discussion. Going to give everyone a chance to post once, would suggest longer conversations or questions be done on discord and then posted as before. Definitely recommend everyone take a crack at summarizing how their expedition went and such, and any recommendations they might make. Or maybe let the party know something new about your character, this is a bit of downtime to enjoy before we kick back off.

This is probably a time to discuss the "Lost City of Sinjh" and the possible treasure on the island, and whether you want to follow that trail.

One thing should be finalized: If you are going to move the camp upriver, you have a possible spot to do so from the map and notes from the elven galleas, though you will not know what you'll find when you get there. If you simply want to scout it out before the storm comes, that's fine. If you are looking for anything else specifically by going upriver as well, let me know.

  • Contact any other possible survivors.
    • Rescue the damsel.
    • Extract the git.
    • Investigate the plume.
    • Track the kobolds.
    • Follow the trail of the elven crusaders.
  • Secure food and water.
  • Scrounge for salvage and supplies.
    • Explore the shipwrecks in the shallows.
    • Find a way to get the crates out of the spider's web.
  • Prepare a shelter. Get a shelter/forward camp on higher ground, more inland.
  • Explore the windward coast of the island.
  • Follow the river inland for higher ground.
  • Survive the storm.
  • Prepare a raft to escape. (needs: cloth, wood, rope, navigator's tools, 2 weeks provisions)
Everyone benefits from a short rest, and has nothing to worry about for hunger or dehydration at this time.

Experience posted:

+15 XP for defeating the giant spiders with few numbers and disadvantageous terrain.
+5 XP for recruiting Vett.
+5 XP for recovering the sails and the crates in the spider nest.
+5 XP for taking the kobolds' treasure.

Level up! You are now 2nd level. Congratulations. Please use your round-fire post as an opportunity to mention any new features or changes to your sheet you have, and update it in Roll20 as well.

Apr 26, 2014

Death, but with a gun

Back around the campfire as the morning came to a close and the dark skies of the storm began to set in, Quill sat on his haunches as he thumbed through the book that he sought to reclaim so urgently. Such a weighty tome felt good in his hands, and even during the long boat ride he had not been able to finish it amongst all the other things that happened.

"Within the tomb of the Hahpskotch dynasty deep in Praxis, the long dormant servitors were awoken by our entry into this sanctum of sanctums in the great walled city. It was only with the channelled power of the Northern Manse were we rid of the accursed spectres that dogged our every step"

Quill tilted his head at this, it sounded, familiar somehow but he can't quite put his finger on it. What he was noticing though were the sounds of very hungry snacking going on behind him, he turned away from the fire and towards the source, hands on his lap and the book back into his cloak.

The first instinct of a kobold is to freeze. This actually works pretty well, since they are so diminuitive that many creature simply just won't take notice of them. But once they feel the gaze settlling, that's when the simpering starts. Vett was hard at work gnawing at the tin of potted meat, wearing down his overgrown teeth in the process, licking at the adhesive and getting some bits of metal for the trouble. Some natural philosophers that Quill was familiar with theorized that kobolds were omnivorous in the ultimate sense, but that was mostly just regarded as myth nowadays. It was now properly understood that they consumed minerals primarily, and could not actual digest vegetable matter as other peoples do, though they could and did still enjoy meat. More opportunistic scavengers, they supplemented their diet with the stuff anyway they could, and it would actually contribute to the health of their scales, which were barely visible under their stiff, bristle-like fur.

While all of this was going through Quill's head, Vett's eyes just stared back, bug-eyed and slowly pushing the tin away, giving a sort of sheepish cough and grin. It then seemed to remember something, and all but dove out of the way, to scramble for something, returning back with several of the small quatroons in its hands, its hands shaking a bit as it offered. "Big birds like good things, all that gleams and glitters too?" Vett considered himself smarter than the average kobold, and since kenku were basically just big crows in his head, surely they'd be just as liable to like to take shiny things. Kobolds hated crows for this reason, but Vett reasoned that they could be bribed in a similar way, and he'd trained a crow before back in the gutters of Khazadan.

Quill runs this through his head for a moment as he looks at the very small Kobold in front of him. Quill had extensive knowledge of a number of what one would call 'esoteric' languages gained throughout his brief academic life under his Tutor. Auran he had picked up from his youth alongside Common and Ornassi, Celestial and Giant from Amon, and Draconic mostly from Amon. The problem is of course whilst had heard many hundreds of voices speak out loud in Common and Ornassi, the amount of voices that spoke these other languages were very limited. In fact he had exactly two references for his Draconic, his tutor and the various Kobolds that eked out a living in and around the City of Pillars in one form or another.

And thus the voice that then replied back "<No thank you. How are you?>" Was some very shrill and somewhat chipped Draconic, (He also made a mental note to maybe listen to some dragons speak so he could maybe have a voice that sounded a little more, impressive)

There was at first a palpable sense of alarm. And then the eyes narrowed slightly. When the coins aren't taken, it was already a bit suspicious, but when it uses that shrill, yapping Draconic, it feels like it's being mocked, especially with the broken syntax and modulation of the voice. Kobolds rarely engage in that kind of friendly talk so it took some remembering to get those words put together.

"Vett doesn't understand. Are the good things fake? Is this a trick?" He looked down at the coins, and considered the options, holding them to his chest and then looking back up, before barking back in his own tongue. It would be wrong to say that he is eloquent in this tongue, but he is easier to understand. "<I understand my place here. The high take tribute from the low. It doesn't make sense. Why do the high ones not accept it? What have I done to offend? I don't want to get smashed by the horned one.>"

Quill tilts his head at this "<No offense, none. We are stuck on lost island, should see about finding way off, before talk of tribute. Do you agree?>"

"<Tribute is survival.>" It can't help but sound a bit frustrated. "<You must be valuable, have valuables, or be discarded. Or eaten. If I give my treasure as tribute and you take it, we are bonded. You protect me. You don't eat me. You do it for the sacred wyrms, we do it for you, the high ones.>" It tried to explain it as if it were talking to a child.

Quill doesn't quite understand this, but seeing that this action is probably what the Kobold needs to be put at ease decides it's best to follow this train of logic. "<Very well I accept tribute, for your trust.>" He holds out a small bag in his taloned hand and opens it up for Vett. "<Your name is?>"

Draconic is an interesting language. A lot can be told by the inflection, and the kobold one even moreso. As soon as the kenku took the coins, there was an immediate change in tone. The kobold was more respectful, less nervous, and averted its eyes downward, though rubbed its hands. "<Vệntrinh Laoši.>" That was very different than the monosyllabic word it used in Common, and required a sort of throat-sound and undertone that sounded almost like a hiss or whistle. Quill was knowledgeable enough to know about "ouxie" kobold throat singing, and their language sometimes used that sound which humanoids could replicate (dwarves, for instance, had a throat-singing tradition) but was much more common among the kobolds, who used it to communicate over long-distances in the mines along with knocking sounds against the rock, which turned into a pretty strong percussive instrument traditions. This was one way they resembled the dragons they venerated, as dragons also used ethereal song to communicate over miles of distance.

But I digress.

"I tell you good name because you are good bird, but Vett is my low name, so please us that one."

Quill nods as he stashes the coin purse onto his person, truth be told he was quite nervous himself having never talked to a Kobold before but the visible relaxing of his conversation partner also relaxed him in a small way. He shuffles in his seat. he points to himself. "<This one, Quill. Quill has things he wishes to know. What have you seen on the island so far Vett?>

The creature raised his paws in a dramatic fashion. "Great crashing of brainsucker ship on the rocks! Scattered to five winds by the holy dragon! This is what what happens when no tribute." It felt pretty self-satisfied in bringing that back around, something like a smirk on its fanged lips, before it turned a bit more pensive, dropping back into Draconic.

"<Me and my brother and the late Ikko were the only survivors of the low ones. We made to collect all the treasure we could find, so we could have enough to pay tribute. This island is ruled by something, but it is not a holy dragon. We have seen their servants move through the tunnels. But it's not like the mind flayers, they are not thralls or slaves or even soldiers. They are... animals. Like hounds, sniffing and baying. Hunting to bring the food to their ever hungry masters. The only tribute they take are bodies, and so they took Ikko.>"

He seemed to get nervous. He didn't seem to want to share much more than that, and decided to try and change the subject. "<But now we are ready to escape! The ghost captain will take us off this island soon, right?>"

Quill looked around pensively at this. <"Problem with sailing off island, sailing requires boat. We have crew. We have no boat. We have part of the things to make boat, but nearly a boat is not a boat"> He scoots in a little closer. <"Also, growing suspicion that, what ever not holy dragon on island is, it will not let us leave. This is issue, do you have any idea what the, thing, is?">

"<Eaters.>" The word in Draconic seemed to have some special meaning, and the nervousness increased. "<We need to leave here soon. There must be another ship, perhaps on other end of island? Halfling says treasure map leads to harbor. Can't dig down. They come from the deep, are better in the deep. But they also come from the sky. Maybe the sea? But can't breathe. Maybe the dragon can help? We heard it earlier.>"

Quill decided that maybe telling Vett the truth about the 'dragon' would not help matters at the moment, and steered away from it. <"We hope to find a ship perhaps, or anything about this island. Rest of group planning to head inland from shore by river, I am helping move camp before storm arrives. Quill would like your help with this too, all hands on deck needed, very important, do you agree?>"

"<As you wish, master. What do you need Vett to do?>" It may not have sit well the obsequiousness, but that was the natural state of things, and with the bond established it rolled right into obedience, to consider what to be done next.

<"Carry things, tie things down, load dinghy sled, extra eyes and ears for jungle travel ahead. We plan to move after rest, only issue is we have yet to go into deeper jungle. Did you come to surface at all further inland? May be helpful to know, you had longer to explore it seems.">

"<Why would we do that! Jungles are dangerous! Surely master saw the size of the giant dragonflies. They almost carried off Vett!>

<"More or less dangerous then deeper lava tubes?">

It seemed a bit confused. "<Underground very dangerous too. To be a low one is to always be in danger. But below, we know all the tricks. You only need to look in front and behind you, not above or below or side to side. You can make it your home by trap and burrow. Even the low can survive this way.>"

<"Quill means more..."> He moves his hands trying to make the words come to his head, he wasn't even sure what he wanted to ask exactly but it had to be said. <"When Vett was in lava tubes with brother and Ikko, did they explore tunnels?">

"<We found place to nest and made it ours. We knew that further, deeper in, the Eaters were waiting, and we did not want to risk it. Their animals use the tunnels to travel around the island and move unseen, without the big insects catching them.>"

<"These terrible Eater animals, what did they look like?">

"<They loped on two or four legs, and had no eyes. Their noses led them, but they had faces like the high ones, and broken and rotted teeth. They wore rags and hides, as if they were ashamed of what they are.>"

Quill listened to the Kobolds' account of that terrible event, and leant back in his seat. He reached into his robe and pulled out the triangle holy symbol. <"One moment I need to ask God>" He drew a light triangle in the air, his eyes glowing faintly as he consulted his memory

Quill rolls a Knowledge (History) check to try and determine their foe with the information provided by Vett and the knowledge that they already know about the island. He also uses Guidance on himself for this.

There are legends of those who were trapped by the rising sea in caverns or isolate islands driven underground, of humanoids twisted by those meager conditions through the thousand years after the floods. These legends call them "grimlocks" though they are often fanciful tales, and that name does not really give you much practical to work off from.

You probably heard it through Grunnish folktales, influenced by dwarven lore about the time before and their experience as one of the first explorers of the new world.

The light faded from Quill's eyes and he nodded. <"The things you said, great importance, will help us identify our hidden foe. Thank you Vett">

Its nose scrunched up and it bowed deeply at being thanked. That was very rare for a kobold to hear, and it didn't take it lightly. "However it can please you, master, Vett will do! We begin digging immediately!" And indeed, it'll start digging holes and ditches pretty much at random, misinterpreting slightly what it had been asked to do previously, until directed otherwise by the rest of the crew.


Armed with this knowledge, Quill was happy to leave Vett to his lunch and digging and head over to the campfire. He had an idea of their foe, and now all he needed was clarification and so he reasoned asking the natives of the Be'el de Marr would be a good place to start.


>From the combined loot, Quill outside of his Manuscript would also like to claim the other Writing kit, combining them both together, the DNS Ceaseless' Ledger, and The Butterfly in a Jar, which he will identify. He also gains twenty quatroons (10 gp) from Vett.
>Quill gains one more 1d8 hit die and +5 HP (Because the chance of rolling higher on the 1d8 with my no Constitution is terrible)
>Quill gains +1 Level 1 spell slot and can put one more spell on his prepared spells list.
>Quill exchanges Healing Word for Cure Wounds on his list of prepared spells and also adds Shield of Faith
>Quill gains the Channel Divinity feature, he can now use Turn Undead (Give undead the divine middle finger so hard they run away) and Knowledge of the Ages (Become an instant expert in a skill or tool, for 10 minutes)

HP: 13/13 AC: 16 Hero Points: 3/3 HD: 2/1d8
Prepared Spells: 6(+2) Spell Slots - Lvl.1: 1/3
Cantrips; Guidance, Spare the Dying, Thaumaturgy
Level 1; Bless, Command, Cure Wounds, Detect Magic, Guiding Bolt, Identify, Sanctuary, Shield of Faith
Manuscript: On person

TheNabster fucked around with this message at Jun 15, 2018 around 20:04

Jun 12, 2007

after a great meal i like to lie on the ground and feel like garbage

After the spelunking expedition returns and gets settled in, Secca settles into a rousing anthem as Desider cooks a mighty feast of potted meats and veggies and Vett works furiously. She has no little regret about how matters with Sekk left off and, indeed, makes a solemn vow to herself to reunite the kobold brothers once more. Perhaps she'd chance upon him during a night's watch, or further inland. Chances were slim, to be sure, but was that not the core of the greatest tales? Triumph, even in the face of impossible odds! Still, the chakram they'd recovered from the kobold horde was quite fetching. Secca had taken it as a guarantee of Vett's safety, after her initial refusal and explanation that he was now a valued member of their band was rebuffed.

While she sings, she works on several of the knots that Urszula had shown her the prior night. They are a tricky arrangement, to be sure, but her mind feels quicker than ever and her hands eager to please. The length of rope bends to her will with surprising ease as she works it through one configuration after the other. Hah! She'll make a fine sailor yet, and her hands are hardly ruined. She even does a little additional prep for the meal, earning a begrudging grunt — approving? — from the ancient mariner at her skill with a knife.

Despite the curious nature of the Dominion meat, Secca cannot deny that the smell develops quite the hunger within her belly. She takes a plateful and is eating her fill by the time the other expeditions return.


As the companions feast and relax and trade tales, Secca attempts to do justice to the expedition they made into the tunnels. "...And then, moments before we faced certain death, quick thinking from the three of us saw the deadfall safely disabled and the treasure in sight!" She looks over at Vett, a small smile on her face, as she continues. "The kobolds were not done yet, however, as our safe passage was revealed to be yet another ploy in their diabolical plot! Vett had us at his mercy, yet it was only by reasoned discussion that we saw the day through. And so, our merry band grew larger still!"

She waits for the polite applause that was sure to follow such a dramatic recitation, yet bravely continues on regardless of whether it happens or not.

Secca says, "This does lead to our next steps. From what I've read of the ship logs and journals of the ill-fated crusaders, I have no doubt that there lurks a malign force within this island. It may well cleave any ship we create in twain, with no less ease than it did their ship. For this reason, I urge that we consider following the path of the crusaders to the island's interior and resolve whatever matter lurks within. For those of you who seek glory, I'm sure this will be a song for the ages. For those who seek treasure, we stand upon an island that has collected treasures untold! And, indeed, for those who seek knowledge... Need I extoll all the ways in which your curiosity might be sated?" She stands, elven cape fluttering in the breeze, and points dramatically inland. "I say we make camp further inland. The storm seems worse than we dared expect, and it will serve us well for expeditions to come."

Secca is up seven HP, is now a Jack of All Trades, can improve healing during short rests, and has mastered a new spell. She's also hanging onto the Praxian chakram from the kobold treasure, as it suits her fancy and general style. She'll return the pistol and shot to the communal gear pool.

Tricky fucked around with this message at Jun 12, 2018 around 23:41

Successful Businessmanga
Mar 28, 2010

Ranka is irritated for a moment when Nax takes over the burden of carrying the sailcloth, but it quickly passes. Juggling a naked blade, a fishing gaff, and yards upon yards of canvas was clearly not working particularly well. The made it back to camp in a timely order however, so she's grateful for the presence of her taller companions.

Ranka's hands fiddle with the puzzle box of her people's make as she relays what the beach team had found "I had a little swim with that shark, and it's friends, that were hassling Urszula there. Managed to get that sail cloth, but no luck getting your javelin back Mazhar, it's still pretty stuck in the critter." There's a constant clacking as she works her hands, winding down from the trip "plenty of man sized crabs to be found out that way, so we'll likely be fine for food if I can get some kind of drying rack up?" She shakes her head a bit "More interestingly there's some signs of civilization! There's a cliff face with all sorts of odd animalistic carvings running up it. Interesting, but the cliffs themselves seem pretty dangerous to deal with." She shrugs as a few sliding panels on the child's toy click into place "Something for another day to be sure, but there may be an interesting thing or two to poke at up there."

It only took a minute or two for Ranka's report of their neighboring surroundings, and in that time she's worked the old toy, meant to teach children pattern finding, open which sends a small glass lens, a monocle framed in wood, tumbling to the ground. The shava were known for their wood working, so the reveal of glass work as a development is rather exciting.

Looking through the lens is an experience in itself, etched on and through the glass is a faint outline of a sprawling landscape. Ranka was simultaneously 100% sure she'd been to this place, but likewise absolutely sure she'd never been in such a place. There were no bodies of water visible and the landscape itself seemed to stretch on for miles in all directions. In her gut she knew it was an image from before the Sea began to swallow the world.

Ranka had only intended to glance at the thing for a moment, but she's transfixed by the image, and the better part of the hour break has passed by the time she can pull herself away. As soon as her eye breaks contact with the lens, memories come flooding back to her, fresh as if they'd happened the day before. Mother Dusa, cracking her across the back with a switch for having missed such simple clues in tracking her target. Mother Waclawa, disappointed with her daughter for having spent so long on land and getting flustered trying to jump between. Dusa again chiding her for focusing on easy attacks to the tall people's knees when so many vulnerable spots were attackable from her lower position with a staff in hand.

Ranka's hands are shaking when she places the lens back in the box and snaps it back into its original position. She rises to her feet slowly after a time, and while her body continues to sway uncomfortably, the steps she takes along the sand are perfectly balanced. She glances up and down the beach, her eyes scanning the sand and immediately picking up the scattered trails of all her compatriots.

Ranka's body has started to sway once again in the aftershock of her recollection, her brain still convinced she's on a rocking boat at all times, but for the first time in over a decade the feeling is almost comforting. So many things had happened that she'd begun to forget her roots, her reason for Seeking. Ranka hadn't been aware of her connection to the Sea for such a long time, she had been so close to becoming truly deaf to the call, but that ancient connection had suddenly snapped taut once again, threads of iron winding into it and strengthening it with purpose.


Dumping my full gain list in the ooc thread since it's huge, but the short of it is I gain a bunch of gear prof, 7 hp, I'm better in combat and tracking vs Humanoids, I have advantage during initiative, I ignore difficult terrain, and I make camping/traveling a hell of a lot easier.

I'm also interested in the chakram, but Tricky and I are talkin' bout how to work that out depending on what it's revealed to be. Likely Secca takes Lunargent Sword*/Keeps the pistol and Ranka takes the Chakram. If it has more than just a return charm on it though, I'll definitely defer, Ranka's in a good enough spot attack-wise.

Ranka just gained the ability to comprehend deep speech, so she'll spend her downtime IDing the Evocation Rod.

*She's probably the only other person, who can also use a longsword, that would make a serious promise with a creepy fey lady .

Ranka is against heading up river to immediately set up a new camp. We had enough trouble moving some boxes along the beach a few miles from camp, packing everything we have up and just hauling it up river is likely to take a long time and not leave space for us to start building. The sloop is enough to get us through a lovely cramped night with some preparation.

Successful Businessmanga fucked around with this message at Jun 14, 2018 around 18:44

May 19, 2011

Everything by design.

By the time they return, Mazhar's body is glistening from the exertion, and his muscles are burning. It was not the heaviest chore he had ever performed, true, but it was a big weight all the same. He is, however, quite surprised to see a kobold among the crew; the same kobolds that, according to last night's last watch, had stolen half their water supply. He snorts in dismissive anger as the small creature approaches him with what looks like a bribe; it scurries away quickly as Mazhar settles in to the camp again, taking some water to quench his thirst.

Ranka explains the results of their tour and apologizes for the lost javelin, which Mazhar dismisses. "It is what it is. I will make do; do not worry over these small things." Secca goes about her usual flowery way of conversation, and the minotaur can only agree. "Aye. The storm is coming swiftly; we must do the same for shelter, or we shall not have a good day at all." He spares a glance over towards the cowering Vett, then back to Secca - though he says nothing, his expression makes it clear that he does not approve in the slightest of the thieving rat's adoption into the crew. "Eat, and drink; then, we must move."

Mazhar becomes a bit more perceptive (Danger Sense) and a bit more sloppy (Reckless attack). That's it.

Apr 24, 2008

I fucking hate puzzles.

Back at camp, Rust settles in for a moment before he gets to work. Taking one of his cutlasses, he sticks the end of the blade in Desider's cook fire. Stripping down to his smallclothes, he takes a closer examination of his wounds from earlier today. Wiping away the trail of blood still dripping from both the spider bite and the spear wound on his leg. Pulling out the bottle of liquor that he refilled earlier in the day, Rust takes a good long draw from the bottle before putting his thumb over the lid and splashing the alcohol on both of his wounds. He grimmaces in pain quietly, that was the easy part.

Grabbing a small branch, he sticks it in his mouth and sets it in his teeth. Taking his blade from Aqualung's fire, he turns the softly glowing tip of the blade toward himself, cauterizing the bleeding and sealing the wounds, he shakes and yells out for a moment on each application, the brief sound of sizzling flesh ringing out over the din of the camp.

His work now done Rust drives the glowing blade tip into the sand, spits out the branch to a stream of obscenities that would make a mindflayer blush in any language that Rust could think of. Putting his clothing and leathers back on, Rust takes one more pull from the bottle before standing up and silently starting to pack up his section of the camp to move inland.

When he finally does speak, he's curt and to the point. "It's time for us to move inland. I don't know what that storm is bringing in, but it looks bad enough that if we're caught out here on it, we're going to wash out to sea. Drowning once this week is enough for me, yeah?"


I gained 9 hit points (6 baseline +3 from CON) this level and also ACTION SURGE, which I mistakenly though was a level 1 feature until someone corrected me on it three fights into the campaign

Mar 25, 2011

At the camp, Johann makes sure to keep a close eye at Vett, believing that the cowed Kobold might some kind of shenanigans or trickery in the future. The only reason he believed in bringing it into camp was to use it as a hostage were the Kobolds once again try to trap and lock them. He lifts a hand as the group discusses their next moves. "Inland might be a good idea, but we have no knowledge of how it is within the jungle. How many of those gigantic insects that you fought still may be lurking unknown to us? I don't believe our scouting efforts have shown us a safe enough place to make camp either."

Apr 24, 2008

I fucking hate puzzles.

Slinging his backpack to the ground, Rust straightens his back for a moment before turning to address Johann "Have you seen what storm surge can do? If this storm is at all as threatening as it looks like we're as good as dead if we stay on this beach, no matter what kind of shelter you want to build. A rickity boat lean-to will not even begin to protect us from the wind let alone if a rogue wave comes for us. We're going to have to take our chances in the unknown because right now our odds are poo poo right here. While it may not be a problem for you because of your ghoulie powers, I prefer to not die by drowning after getting sucked back out to sea. We need to move, when the storm comes I doubt the creepy-crawlies are going to be too much of a problem, I think even at their size they are going to scurry into hidey holes at the presence of the storm. If we run into the industrious natives that we've seen signs of, well at least we're armed and armored for bear."

Tricky Dick Nixon
Jul 26, 2010

The body is but a vessel for the soul, a puppet which bends to the soul's tyranny. And lo, the body is not eternal, for it must feed on the flesh of others, lest it return to the dust from whence it came. Therefore must the soul deceive, despise and murder men.

Urszula raises her hand, and whether or not she is addressed, queries the gathered castaways. "Didn't we find a treasure map? I think Vidame Tolto said too that whatever is on this island is not likely to let us go. What's our plan, I mean, assuming we survive the storm...?"

The Aqualung's hoarse chuckle came in response to that. "Aye, if the storm doesn't take ye, sure enough can you meet the Hells waiting for ye chasing off after some fool's errand like that." The way he said it, though, he seemed almost interested in the idea. After all, he was always in favor of whatever plan had the most chance of dying.

Nax's reply was sharp. "Whatever 'treasures' are on this island, it drove the elf crusaders into ruin. Nax Tirrinu wants nothing of it. We need hardwoods however to build. Za, these thick softwood trees would not make anything seaworthy."

Desider grumbled in agreement with that. "The Sintali is right. Shame ye consigned that galleas to the damned. Cursed or not, it would have at least made good salvage, and the haunts may have made good company when the sunstroke drives us to madness as we wander the wyrmsea."

Apr 26, 2014

Death, but with a gun

The pitter-patter of crows feet on sand grows steadily louder as Quill slips into the group, one hand clutched around the butterfly jar, and the DNS Ceaseless' Ledger under his arm as he shuffles into the campfire circle.

"Hello. Talked to Vett, asked him about things he's seen. Found things out, could be important, needs clarification." He shuffled on his seat and looked towards Johann. "Would like to talk to you. Also you. If you don't mind." He said pointing a taloned finger at Johann, and then at Urszula.

Aug 31, 2006

Lucielle is content to sit back, and let Secca share the tale of their expedition in the tunnels. It doesn't surprise her in the least that her friend is able to take what was a rather uneventful trip and make it sound like a grand, exciting adventure. She almost finds it a bit amusing, actually.

What she doesn't find amusing though was Johann's completely unnecessary action of intimidation. She and Secca were so close to reaching out to Sekk, to convince the little kobold that they were on his side, but then he had to ruin everything by showing force when it was not needed, and it left her feeling more than a little irritated by him. The exile hadn't said anything to him yet, but she didn't need to. Her face said it all. She gave him plenty of nasty looks on their way back to camp, and even now, while they're resting at the camp, she looks at him with a slightly sour expression.

Still, even with the way things went, she's determined to find Sekk, and reunite him with Vett if she can. After they're done handling more pressing matters first, that is, like the matter of the incoming storm.

"As much as I would like to see where the treasure map leads, I think it would be best if we decide on what to do with it later," she speaks up, "For now, we should focus our efforts on moving inland, and, I can't believe I'm saying this, but I agree with Rust," she could almost feel the bitter taste in her mouth when she says that, "We can't stay here. We need to take our chances, and whatever problem we'll face, we'll just deal with it, and survive through it, as we always do."

Lucielle has gained 7 more HP, and learned Cunning Action. That's about it.

Tricky Dick Nixon
Jul 26, 2010

The body is but a vessel for the soul, a puppet which bends to the soul's tyranny. And lo, the body is not eternal, for it must feed on the flesh of others, lest it return to the dust from whence it came. Therefore must the soul deceive, despise and murder men.

The discussion seemed to reach an impasse. People's voices had quieted, and while there was a majority on one end, several voices hadn't spoken, and there wasn't much coming to a middle ground. If a decision was made now, it couldn't be said it had a mandate. The castaways were listless and without leadership, and Desider's eyes narrowed as he looked across the sea dogs around him.

Each was individually spirited and could stand to be in charge of a ship, by his measure. Each had their own unique talents and perspective, some of which was in conflict, but it all came back to the question he asked the lot earlier on. "If all ye have to fasten your sails to is survival, then this is what ye'll reap, me hearties." It all came back to the warning he gave previously.

"On the nine seas, what motivates yer crew isn't the fight to survive from day to day. That's just a part of livin', as ol' Aqualung sees it. You don't get anything out of that you wouldn't otherwise get. It's something else. A love of adventure, a lust for gold. The equal share is more than just an equal share of the booty. It's a share in ye own fate. Being ye own master. There's not a nation in all of Uskara where men and women of all folk are equal, much less free. But when ye set your feet on a freebooter's vessel, everything changes." He was of course talking about the life of piracy, in the full romantic terms it would have.

"The storm is soon upon us, and we aren't surviving it unless we work not just as some flotsam washed up on these accursed shores, but as a crew. And a crew, needs a captain." He looks to each of the nine, each qualified in some way, though in many ways perhaps not equal in their desire for such responsibility.

"Which of ye would stand for it?"

Vett blinked, in that characteristically kobold way of one eye at a time, and looked around confused, and then to Quill. It whispered as best it can in its yipping growl. "Vett's confused. Isn't ghost the captain?"

I think now is the time to do this, because we're reaching a point where there's decisions that need to be made in a definitive way that people aren't comfortable making as a collective it feels and it's slowed down the game somewhat. People have also now had some time to see what each character is about, and through the first two days of survival show their mettle. This needn't be a permanent fixture, the captain's hat can be passed around. Consider this a test of a captain-to-be, to steer the "ship" through the coming storm. Captaincy in piracy is highly democratic and the captain needs to maintain the faith of the majority of their crew. At any time a group of officers can ask for a new election if there is time to do so, but in times of crisis we need someone to call the shots.

If your character is interested in being captain, have them make their case in-character. Feel free to nominate another PC as well. All PCs will have a vote. If that vote isn't decisive, then NPCs will weigh in, or if people call in on favors built through relationships made with the NPCs, then they may factor in as well, but primarily this is a player-driven decision and will remain so, even when the crew becomes larger, as the NPCs will generally follow (unless there are other circumstances, like a mutiny) what the player officers have decided on.

Jun 12, 2007

after a great meal i like to lie on the ground and feel like garbage

In the interest of keeping momentum up, I think that this would be best handled via the Discord. I've started up a discussion in IC 1, which we'll post to the thread later.


Jan 23, 2012

Wings Out

"As much as I am loathe to leave the waters, I agree. We need to leave the shore for now." Dermid quieted down as Desider spoke, "but electing a captain is a good idea. We need to have someone to lead us and make hard decisions."

He shrugged off his coat and stepped near the fire, letting himself warm up, as he joined the conversation.

Just a quick post. Level up bonuses, I gain the Font of Magic feature, 2 sorcery points, a spell slot, Mage Armour and 6 health

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