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 Rust was vaguely aware, floating through a black void, not sure if he was alive or dead. Unable to move, his thoughts wandered to what lead him to this situation. As he pieces together the last couple of hours, the void takes shape, giving color and shape to his thoughts. He's on the deck of his ship, but he can't place it. It wasn't his own or his brothers, too heavy, too industrial, too... That's right, he's on the Dominion, topside. Rain is coming down and wind buffets everything around him. He was covered in blood, some of it his but mostly from the blood of others, slowly running off him in rivulets as he is sprayed by ocean mist and rainwater alike. He can barely keep a grip on rusted excuse this ship called a blade as he drives it through a cannoneer, cutting through the belly and out his side. His immediate threat dispatched Rust turns to the captain. The squid faced bastard already had his tendrils wrapped around a minotaur who had been transferred onto the ship with him. Rust figured it was only a matter of time before the minotaur was food or a thrall, so Rust took a risk. Diving to a nearby corpse, he scoops up a discarded crossbow from one of the already dead, turns aim and looses a bolt in the direction... ...No, this isn't helpful. Remember the old man's lessons. The visions shift and Rust sees himself as a child, curled up on the dusty ground, protecting his face and gut from the boots of Dirk. From somewhere behind him the old man yells, "This is useful pain boy. If you ever want to survive out there hold onto that pain. Let it feed your instincts, fight or flight, boy." Pain, useful pain. Rust feels it, his whole body aches of it but it does not scream out, like he had drank milk of the poppy. He tightens the grasp of his hands and feels something give purchase. The black void gives way, lightening as he feels consciousness flutter back to him. Focus on the pain, and open your eyes ---------- Sheltered Estuary Rust opens his eyes and glances around. His eyes take focus to find that he's up in the air facing the brackish blue-green water below. He hears a squawk and a splash to his right. He glances over in time to see that featherbrain stumble and stagger to the shore. Unsure if that birdman (what was his name? Still? Quill?) was cognizant of him still being up here, Rust looses interest in the kenku and focuses in on his own situation. Rust turns to his right and finds the still-grinning visage of Victor, the jailor. The jailor had made sure to see that every aspect of Rust's internment was as unpleasant as possible, borderline starving him just for the fun of it. When the cages were opened, Rust made sure he was the first to die, cutting the man from ear to ear the moment Rust got his hands on a blade. "Hah, sucks to be you still, you daft fucker" Rust chuckles to himself as he orients himself around on the vines to get a view of the cove they washed in from. Trying to see if he can see any movement from the height advantage. Perception check = 16 I guess it'll be DM Fiat if I'm able to spot any of the others from my current vantage His initial assessment done, Rust decides it's time to break his vines and see about making his way down. "Oi, feathers," he shouts down to the Kenku, now pecking through some nearby detritus, "You find anything good down there? Did any of the rum survive?" Rust pulls an arm loose and feels where the rapier had been on his belt and his hand met a familiar handle, taking a grip of it he pulls it loose, hacking at a vine that he thought was supporting most of his weight. Athletics check = Natural 20 The main vine severs, and with his now free hand he grabs hold of the severed end, swinging gallantly to the shore, landing with a soft tumble. Rust took a minute to assess himself now that he was free. His leather jerkin (that he had taken from a thrall who no longer needed it) was wrinkled and cracking around the seams, but seemed to hold together well enough. The dominion inscription on the jerkin could still be seen, though it was scuffed and faded. The white shirt underneath he had been wearing in his cell was profusely stained with the blood from the battle on the ship. His pants were frayed and torn in various places, but were otherwise intact. His necklace, a small silver skull with small gems for eyesockets, was nestled firmly between the jerkin and the shirt. Above all he was profoundly glad to not loose his black leather boots. It would be a fair sight unpleasant to have to deal with exploring an inhospitable island barefoot. Rust swaggers over to the Kenku and helps him pick through debris, using the flat of the rusted boarding rapier as a makeshift sorting stick ---------- Waiting until I hear back from the GM about my perception check and I'll go from there. If it's not too late I'll go ahead and throw an assist to Quill on his investigation to give him advantage. DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 20:42 on May 14, 2018 |
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May 14, 2018 18:04
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Rust grins wryly as he snatches up the ragged backpack and begins to scoop up all the immediate items he could scrounge sans the ragged club into it. It may not be worth much, but every little bit is going to help in the coming days. He hears the echo of a voice telling them to regroup close to the smoke, which from his perspective might be the right idea now that he's getting a better look at his surroundings and starting to piece things together. He quickly scurries up to where Quill is searching ever deeper into the woods and puts his left hand on the birdman's shoulders, pulling him in and fiercely whispering to him "Hey Cuckoo, listen to your surroundings.... no birds, no wildlife." With his other hand still gripping the rapier, he uses it to point out the other telltale signs of trouble, up to and including his tin suspended in the silk. "We're not alone. Bloody drag marks, people and objects tied up in silk. Big spiders probably, not sure how many. If you value your feathers, we get the others and come back for whatever it is you're looking for." He says, pointing to the minotaur and the other figures who are crossing the bay heading south. ---------- I'm grabbing up all the stuff we found nearby sans the club to spare myself the weight, I've updated the equipment sheet if you can update the weight. DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 14:10 on May 15, 2018 |
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May 15, 2018 14:07
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Rust squints momentarily at the wiggling worms in Quills hands, pinches the bridge of his nose and says "That's great, hang on to that turbo. Depending on what washes up we may need to eat some of that but hopefully it won't come to that." Looking up momentarily, he sees another body dangling low to the ground. He hops up and cuts a wide overhead arc with his sword meeting flesh and vine. He takes a step back as he lands and the body tumbles down after it, spilling his gear outward around him. Rust kneels over and pulls the heavy, waterlogged crossbow off of the body and slings the strap of it around his shoulder. The bolt canister was opened and some of the ammunition had washed away, but some was better than nothing at all, and he wedges the canister into a side pouch on the backpack. Also of interest was the bottle that spilled down with him, seemingly whole and intact. He pops the cork and takes a swig...  ... to get a mouthful of salty brine. Whatever liquor the bottle use to hold had apparently flowed out from a crack in the cork. He gags and spits, doubled over as Quill absent-mindedly coos about fish behind him. Rust straightens himself out with all the dignity of a washed up pirate who just mistakenly drank salt water and turns the bottle over, spilling the contents back into the bay and stashing it on top of his pack. "Yeah yeah, we'll get some fish if we see any." he says as absent mindedly walks up the coast, heading toward the others. ---------- Framing the body as an in-character way to acquire the heavy crossbow that's already on my character sheet. The flubbed investigation roll handles the brined and undrinkable grog. DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 00:17 on May 16, 2018 |
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May 16, 2018 00:06
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"I don't see any fish but I do see a keg crab" he says pointing to the oversized hermit crab skittering away as fast as it could while dragging a waterlogged wooden barrel along with it. "Make a note of him, I don't think he's going very far and that's enough meat to keep the lot of us fed for a spot. If I shot it now it'd likely spoil before we got..." The dragons roar catches him off guard when his mind was elsewhere and he immediately snaps into fight or flight mode. He begins swearing out "gently caress poo poo sonofawhoreson." as he runs into the tree line and dives into some foliage, his boots still visable from the shore. It takes a few seconds of not hearing any followups and for the Kenku to give the all clear before Rust pokes his head out again, spits and grumbles "Cheeky bastards think they're funny, don't they." Rust emerges and continues his walk, this time closer to the tree line than before.
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May 16, 2018 14:56
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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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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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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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Rust gets a new bolt dropped in the crossbow and steps out from behind the tree to see the Hobgoblin already fleeing. Shifting his aim slightly upward, he points toward the fleeing coward and looses the next bolt. The shot rings true, striking the fleeing hobgoblin square in the back, penetrating through the breastplate. Now spine-shot, the hobgoblin flops to the ground, tumbling rear end over teakettle once, and is still. Rust doesn't even bother to duck back into cover, he just begins to wind back the drawstring trying to figure out why Nax is suddenly helping the halfling fight his (apparently now-former) friends after his band of idiots tried to mutiny the mutineers on the ship and just now take the halfling Ranka as prisoner. Either way, it doesn't seem like Rust is under much threat of retaliation from his vantage. Right now, even if it seems like he's on our side for the moment, Rust knows Nax can't be trusted as far as you can throw him. He'll need to be dealt with, sooner or later. ---------- Going out on a limb and assuming 11 damage drops the Hobgoblin considering the damage it has taken already. DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 16:32 on May 18, 2018 |
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May 18, 2018 13:05
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After the Battle As the dust cleared, Rust throws the crossbow around his back on the shoulder strap and throws his arms out wide. "Nax ol' buddy. Good to see you! Good to see you cast off the dead weight" Walking at a ginger pace toward where the group was gathering, he turns the body of the dead barbarian woman over, inspecting the damage before added "Quite literally the dead weight." At hearing Ranka's quip about being dangerous, he turns his head sideways slightly while keeping his eyes locked on Nax and says "The world is a dangerous place, lass. It's our line of work it's a matter of survival. But this man here, let me get a good look at you!" Rust reaches his hand out to shake Nax's hand and as he reaches for it, Rust grips his hand tight and pulls the Sintali man in close, clasping his other arm around his back. In a hushed growl, Rust switches to his Ornassi tongue and speaks inches away from Nax's ear. <"Just so we are clear, you try and pull a stunt like you did on the Dauntless again, I'm going to leave you on this Thrak-Dammed island. We survive by coming together, not by further dividing ourselves at the first opportunity. You know how a Freewind deals with a rabid dog; Don't give me a reason. And while we're at it, don't go poking your telepathy in my head or we're going to have a problem."> Having said his peace, Rust releases his grasp and takes a few paces back, arms outstretched. He switches back to common tongue addressing everyone. "But who am I kidding, we should be celebrating! Any day you walk away from certain doom is a good one! We only have a couple hours of sunlight left and we need to think about making camp. I'll work on getting a fire started and we can cook whatever we scrounged up. But first, we need to see to the bodies" ----------- Later... Turning the body of the hobgoblin over, he was taken back when he still seen ragged breathing, almost imperceptible. Leaning in close, he looks at the creature in the eyes. The spark of recognition was there and behind that, seething impotent rage. Paralyzed and bleeding out but not yet dead. Rust leans in close enough to kiss him and says "You almost smell better now than you did on the ship. Too bad, all you had to do was cooperate and you could of been helping us scourge this island for a way off. But you chose the way of pain and for that..." Rust reaches behind the hobgoblin, grabbing the bolt and giving it a couple of good twists before wrenching it loose. "... You loose your life in a stupid and pointless gambit.". Rust gives the hobgoblin a minute to acknowledge his words before drawing his rapier and driving it in a gap in the brestplate and between the hobgoblin's ribs. There's one more ragged exhale and the light goes out of its eyes. ---------- Later still Inspecting the cache of loot, Rust's eyes are drawn toward the ring. His eyes recognize it readily, his father had one like it from his privateer days, though Rust had never seen it used. He speaks up "Yeah, I think I'll take this in lieu of my share of the doubloons. I'll let you guys squabble who gets my cut." Settling the ring on top of his thumb, he flips it up in the air and catches it in a wide sweep, sticking it on the pinky of his left hand. In addition to the rings, Rust also spots the pair of cutlasses. Rust takes the Rapier and scabbard off his belt and drives it into the sand a few feet away from where he was going to build the campfire. He scoops up the cutlasses and gives them a quick inspection. They certainly weren't as pocked and worn as the rapier, so he instead tucks both of the blades into his belt, one on either side of his hip. ---------- After the fight I'm menacing Nax as I introduce myself to him using my bardic inspiration to do so. The menacing was not very successful (intimidate =11) but it should convey the point I'm making and let him know where he stands with me. I'll take Vanguard in marching order (assuming I'm not breaking off to stealth/scout) Scooping up the poison ring and both the cutlasses since my Rapier got DM fiat-ed away 
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May 20, 2018 02:06
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Rust is already laying down in the soft glowing firelight, picking his teeth with a jagged shard of shark bone and considering the old dwarf when the conversation picks up. At Desider's insistence that the group is landed on their grave Rust sits up and almost reflexively recites an old dwarven sailor's saying he had heard in Grunnish <"...And even if we dine on bark and stones, I fight to survive until my last breath."> He mulls about a minute and lets the dwarf finish speaking before switching back to common. "How'd you even find your way onto that ship anyway,? I had figured the Dominion would have standing orders to execute the Eleven on capture. Even aside from that I had heard you were retired even in my father's stories when I was a knee-high. My father spoke highly of Torturuga back in his freebooting days. He wasn't of the eleven, but there was always a great deference to your work." Rust cracks his neck and addresses the broader group "...And if you don't already know me, I am Rust Freewind, son of the Dread Freewind. It seems as though our fates are intertwined for now. We should start to make plans for the near future." Pulling in a little closer to the fire, he looks over to Nax and Dermid "Now I don't know if it's your kin that survived, but I can all but guarantee we aren't alone on this island. Where me and Macaw here..." he points over toward Quill, "... landed we seen signs of logging, so someone has survived long enough to start thinking about industry and has the tools to make it happen. Probably multiple someones given the size of the trees. They might still be alive, they might not, Either way we need to find them." He pauses for a second before continuing: "Back where we washed up we also found signs of some big spiders. Cluckers was squawking about something important to him being tied up in the silk, but there's also a chest that washed up with us all bound up too. It's probably worth our morning to check out. Aside from that, much as it pains me, I'm with Nax. We need to think about moving inland in the morning. We're exposed in our current position. Near where we'll be looking in the morning I seen a stream going inland, that might be as good a route inland as any, and it'll hopefully eliminate the need for our witch to spend the time and effort on purifying sea water. The trees will at least give us some cover if a storm comes blowing in." ---------- I'm probably going to be pushing to go after the spider chest tomorrow, I'm going to guess with Quill. It might be worthwhile to divide out for Team Spider Party vs Team Broken Oar.
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May 21, 2018 19:24
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"It don't matter what you call your craft, from where I'm standing it all looks the same to me." Rust shifts his attention from picking his teeth with the shark bone shard to picking at grime underneath his fingernails. "For what it's worth, it looks like there's more of those tunnels over by where the spiders are, though by the look of it you may need some climbing gear to make any headway into it. It might be treacherous going without some rope and anchors.
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May 21, 2018 20:54
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Rust took a moment to consider the old bones of the broken vessel before him. He had been warned by the others before they left camp that there could have been something scurrying about in the dark, but the three pirates hadn't seen much of anything on the walk. Rust slings the crossbow over his shoulder before moving up. "Enough gawking, gentlemen. We got a lot of ship to cover and not enough time before we're due a storm and a tide." Rust leads the way into the icy murk of the water before them, half wading and half swimming. By the time his boots find purchase on the slanted deck his clothing and armor are already thoroughly soaked through. Speaking up so the other two could hear him as he clambers up the deck to the cargo door, Rust speaks out "It's probably better to start below deck and work our way up. We'll hit the captains quarters last." Rust gets a firm grasp on the trap door and heaves it open, looking down into the inky blackness as best as he could. "Nax, I need a light over here, if you don't mind." he says coolly. The exchange they had yesterday still on his mind. ---------- Assume I emptied out my backpack before heading this way so that we potentially have more storage capacity. Leaving the carbine and shot back at camp to keep the powder dry while we're murking around in a tide pool. Perception check before the torch shows up at disadvantage = 4 DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 19:49 on May 22, 2018 |
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May 22, 2018 19:45
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"Hurry up and wuhhhhh~~~" was all rust could make out before the deck below him gives out, dropping him into the murk below and the jagged splinters boat oars below. Wrenching shards of broken wood out of his arm, Rust pulls one of his cutlasses with the other arm and begins swinging wildly more out of frustration than anything."Dirty son of a squidfaced fucker..." he growls as he chops through the oars and finally calms down after a handful of seconds. Finally able to get some vision of his surroundings as the Sintali brings the torch over the edge of the newfound hole above. Rust takes a minute to regard his surroundings before moving to continue. ---------- Nat 1 on the save, yay! 5 damage, because of course I roll high when it's bad. New perception check now with torchlight = 12
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May 22, 2018 20:19
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As Rust's eyes adjust to the flickering firelight, he sees the twitching carapace in the shadow of the light. He says very quietly as he unslings his crossbow, "I think now is not a good time to be discussing this. Later..." He pulls the bow's string back and fits the bolt, ready to loose it when the feeling of the ground below him gives way. Not use to the feeling of floating, he makes and unexpected tumble midair, almost re-skewering himself on the spear trap before lifting out of the boat. Breathing heavy as he steadies himself in midair, Rust gets a grip on his crossbow again, pointing it back down the hole. "It's a setup, there's nothing down there but a bloody big bug. Watch out." He points his crossbow down into the hole, waiting for the creature to follow him. ---------- Moving as far up above things as possible, reserving my attack action to take a shot at the critter if it follows us up. DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 02:42 on May 23, 2018 |
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May 23, 2018 02:37
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Getting a better view of the crawler as it comes out from the ship, Rust gets his snapshot off, striking firmly in the beasts flank as it comes into view. Readjusting his positioning in the air and getting use to the levitation spell, Rust begins descending as fast as he can, firing off another pair of bolts at the monstrosity as he does so. The second bolt slams into one of the creatures tentacles, pinning it to the deck of the ship at Dermid's feet. The creature screeches in agony and attempts to wrench itself free and turn itself toward it's assailant, managing to do so in time to catch one more bolt in its serrated maw, penetrating through the head of the beast and continuing into the murk below. The creature writhes in agony momentarily before curling on the ground and laying still. Rust touches down at the edge of the pit trap he fell into earlier, taking a peek over in Dermid's direction he says "You doing ok over there killer?" ---------- Three attacks, the prepared action from the previous turn, my regular attack, and action surging for another one. A 12, a nat 20, and a 25 respectively 40 damage total, he ded DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 03:56 on May 23, 2018 |
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May 23, 2018 03:41
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Rust slides down the deck of the boat, back into the water and circles around to get up to Nax and Dermid. "Being the better captain isn't about who's the best butcher - Though I will say that I'm really quite proud of what I just did." Rust reaches down and pulls the bolt at Dermid's feet loose, a still twitching hunk of tentacle flesh is still impaled on it that Rust flicks back out in the bay. He spits on the corpse below him before continuing. "The best captain is someone who captures the heart of their people. Much as I am loathe to admit it. I am not the moral core of our motley crew. Were we not stranded and working together by necessity, half of the people here would just as easily want to watch me swinging from the gallows. Hell, judging by the way Lucielle looks at me, she'd be the one to throw the lever herself. We're not dealing with a bunch of salty dogs looking for pillaging and plunder, the Freewind name is going to hurt me with this group more than it helps. The only people who'd be willing to follow my style of captaining would be you two and maybe old Aqualung depending on what his taste for the life is like at his age." Rust looks down at himself to see a chunk of the broken oars he fell on still sticking out of the meat on his thigh. Grabbing hold of it, he gives it a twist and a pull, gritting his teeth and grunting as it pulls loose from his flesh. It looked a lot worse than its severity, and the bleeding was not life threatening. He closes his eyes and focuses, "Ugh, I'm fine. It's useful pain. A reminder to myself." Turning around, Rust gets a feel for his surroundings in the flickering firelight, keeping an eye on any more traps. "We're not done here yet though, let's see if there's anything left in the captain's quarters and then we'll bounce back to camp. Dismantling the traps and taking the supplies will be useful if nothing else." ---------- Investigation Check = 12 Going to go ahead and also use my second wind, healing myself back to full. Since we rounded up for bolt recovery last time we can round down this time. I'm going to assume the other two bolts I shot are lost in the mass of flesh of the worm and buried in the sand of the bay respectively and probably not recoverable in the time frame we have to scavenge. I should be at 7 bolts left now.
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May 23, 2018 13:44
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Rust stands before the guilder facade, studying it intently as he adds to the conversation. "If they want to go their own way down the line I say let them. Our goal right now is to get back to civilization, and survival is a noble enough goal to keep us together for the moment. I can play nice with these people long enough to get to Tarturuga, or any port really. From there if you blokes are still with me, then I say we split from our current companions, find more like minded sorts and we get back to what we're good at.". Pulling out his cutlass, he points at the cog facade and changes the subject. "Something about this looks off, what do you guys make of it?" Rust circles around to the side looking for a point to try and pry the emblem from the hull of the ship. DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 18:44 on May 24, 2018 |
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May 24, 2018 15:46
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Rust's annoyance the last hour has been palpable. The wound in his leg was no longer bleeding but he had packed it with as clean of cloth as he could muster and wrapped it just in case it re-opens, but it wasn't a hindrance and he wasn't limping on it, so he wasn't going to complain about it. Sitting down on a driftwood log, Rust lays out the dismembered trap components and the handfuls of choking powder on top of one of the chests. "I don't know what it was but that gods damned shipwreck was no shipwreck. Probably never sailed a day in its life. It was a distraction, created to lure in scavengers and kill them. My best guess is that whatever is here with us wants to be the only thing on this island. Make sure nobody goes anywhere alone, because whatever is here will prey on stragglers." Rust pulls his kit back together, making sure to gather the Carbine, his bedroll, and the other miscellaneous items he left at camp for his earlier expedition. "We strike camp as we leave for the morning. If it gets left here, it stays here, not that I reckon it'll stay here long because if something is watching us, it's going to come scavenge behind us." Rust pours out the last of the bottle of rum brine and rinses out the inside with a small amount of water. Shaking the inside dry, he goes over to the cask the other group brought back with them and takes his share of the booze in the bottle. He takes a good pull of the bottle before setting the cork and stowing it back in his backpack. His eyes land on the Starmetal short blade, unsure if anyone laid claim to it he asks "What's the story on the short blade 'ere? " ------ Assuming it isn't that weird talking sword that Ranka found earlier, Rust will claim the short sword. Also going to take his share of the money and booze. If nobody wants any
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May 29, 2018 14:42
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Kneeling at the precipice and looking down as far as the firelight will allow. Rust gets his sight on the chests, now wishing he had Dermid here to do that floating trick he did back at the shipwreck. Thinking of an alternate plans, Rust speaks up. "You guys think we could tie our rope off to a gaffe and try and fish that stuff out?" He reaches into a vest pocket, grabbing a handful of choking powder. "Or we throw some of this crap down there and see what shakes out, once we start disturbing the web we're liable to bring the buggies out anyway, I'd rather we do so topside than halfway down this descent." ---------- Going to go ahead and run a perception check into the tunnel, rolling a 23. DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 16:26 on May 30, 2018 |
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May 30, 2018 16:19
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Standing back up, Rust says nothing about the spider he has spotted as he silently circles around the hole, looking for an angle. Eventually finding himself standing over Urszula, Rust kneels down tapping her on the shoulder once to get her attention. When she looks up toward him, Rust puts a hand over his mouth and winces his eyes in an exaggerated fashion to indicate the should close her eyes and hold her breath. Rust didn't want her catching a whiff of the powder and dropping the torch just yet. Quietly, Rust unslings his crossbow and sets it down on a flat rock behind him, in arms reach but far enough back that it's not liable to slide into the hole. Packing the handful of choking powder into a tight ball, he hurls it down to the spider cubby, hoping the irritation will drive it out. ---------- Went ahead and rolled an attack to throw the choking powder at the spider, not sure what the target AC would be between cover and the splash/area effect of the choking powder potentially disrupting that. Got a 20 vs AC.
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May 31, 2018 16:21
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Rust gives both Quill and Jan'Ti cross looks at their attempts to cut the webbing as he wrenches a hand free, reaches a hand down to one of his cutlasses and in one swift motion severs the sticky strands and breaks himself loose of his would-be-captors bindings. Standing up, Rust twirls his blade in hand and says "Get back, don't let them pull you into the pit." ---------- Even without Quill's assistance, rolling a 1 for my attack damage against the web would have broke it, so I'm not going to bother rolling damage. DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 17:30 on Jun 3, 2018 |
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Jun 3, 2018 16:10
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Rust pulls back out of the spiders grasp, limbs tingling as he flexing off the venom and wheels his blade around. He spits on the spider and says "<Is that the best you've got?>" in Ornassi. He catches his second wind as his blade flashes, catching the spider off guard. The blade strikes true, cleaving through carapace and entering the flesh of the spider's thorax. Rust takes a step back waits for the spiders counter attack. DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 02:33 on Jun 5, 2018 |
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Jun 5, 2018 02:18
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Kicking at the now shattered pieces of frozen spider flesh scattered around his feet, Rust whistles and says "Yeah Urs, you got him. Got all of him by the looks of it." he inspects the spider bite on his torso, scratching idly at the blood seeping from the wound and says "I've had worse happen to me." Rust turns and unslings the rope and starts to tie off a makeshift harness on one end of it, Strapping himself into it, he uncoils the rest of the rope, wrapping it around a nearby tree. Turning to the others he says "Maz, I need you to hold rope and feed me slack topside, don't let me fall into this poo poo. The rest of you I need to cover my rear end in case that spider decides to jump me. Urs, I'll need that torch here in a minute to see and also to burn out these webs." Rust turns and looks back into the pit. "Now, lets see what you've got in there little spiders" As he inspects the hole to find his first few foot holds. He throws his backpack and supplies down before he enters ---------- The way I see this going down is that Rust is going to be setting in a couple of pitons, grabbing the torch and finding a spot in the rock wall to wedge it in so that he can continue to see, travelling down a little further setting more pitons, coming back for the torch and repeat as many times as necessary. Spider webs are getting burned out by the torch as I pass by them. If the spider shows up again to boogie I'll try to draw my cavalier and take a shot at it one handed. I'm going to guess if Mazhar is controlling the rope and keeping me from plumetting to my doom topside that would count as advantage for my athletics check to climb. When I get to the treasure, I'm going to tie it off to the other end of the rope (since it's 200 ft long holy poo poo), burn off the webbing holding it in, and Quill/Jan'ti can pull it up. If everyone is on board with this plan then I'll make the roll here and get started. DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 13:55 on Jun 7, 2018 |
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Jun 7, 2018 13:46
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Rust stammers and gives the kenku a short look "I... well a'course I'm getting the other boxes. You didn't think I was climbing into this spider nest just to get your precious back, did you? I tell you what, why don't you give me a blessing or something for what I'm about to do - or is that thing you wear just for show?" as he points to the holy symbol that the Kenku wears. ---------- *cough cough* I could use a guidance to help the success chance of my climbing too.
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Jun 8, 2018 13:12
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Secure that everyone knew their role in this escapade. Rust throws his legs over the tunnel's lip, finding his footing as he makes his way into the spider's den. Much to his benefit, the walls of the tunnel were craggy, full of good foot and hand holds in between the thick mats of webbing, making it easy to keep his footing at a reasonable pace. ---------- Athletics roll = 25 after counting the Guidance bonus, 21 otherwise. Going to climb at a steady enough pace that I can make sure the spider what got away doesn't try and webspray me and that my allies can see it if it shows up again.
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Jun 8, 2018 18:05
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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."
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Jun 12, 2018 17:01
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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
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Jun 14, 2018 18:43
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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."
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Jun 15, 2018 14:00
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Before leaving the beach: ----------  Rust is sitting on a rocky spot of the beach, not far from camp. He appears to be soaking in the last of the sun before it disappears behind the gloom of the oncoming storm clouds. His doublet and leather jerkin are off; laid out on a cleared off rock to dry out some. His boots are nearby, upside down hanging over sticks to allow the grime and the muck to drip out of them. The bottle of liquor at his side.  She probably hadn't snuck up on him. Jan'ti didn't make a big fuss about subtlety in much of any way. The genasi approaches from camp, satisfied enough with the progress they've made packing up to leave her tasks behind and approach Rust."<Taken to the bottle rather quickly, have we?>" Her words aren't cruel even if they do seem to needle needlessly. It's almost good cheer, just a hair off, tinged with a certain kind of defeat one finds in exhaustion and uncertainty. "<Drinking alone is for louts.>" Now that, certainly, could have been taken as an insult. Jan'ti sidles up beside him and without a second thought take the bottle from his side takes a long swig before placing it right back where she's found it. Rust gives a wry grin and chuckles a bit before responding, <"Good thing I'm not drinking alone then eh?> As he gets his bottle back, he partially covers the mouth of it with his thumb and tosses a quick splash onto the wounds he roughshod cauterized back before the meeting. From this distance you can see a lot more of the wounds he has suffered. Certainly the freshest wounds from the spider and the earlier expedition are there, but there are also bruises and scabbed over cuts that he got during the fight on the Dauntless. Even aside from that, his body has the tell-tale signs of someone who's lived a life of hardship. Portions of his body seem to be more scar-tissue than not. A series of what appear to be old cigar burns run from his collarbone down below his armpit. A bright star shaped scar from a gunshot can be seen underneath his ribcage. It's a wonder at all how someone this young could have survived all of this. Rust rotates his shoulder trying to feel for the pop of the joint before asking in Ornassi, "<What do you think the odds are of the noble lass sticking through with bein' captain? She's in for a world of surprise when she finds out captaining isn't as fun as she's read about.>" Jan'ti can't help but give a small smile in return, "<Suppose it is.>" She turns her head down and moves a hand to cover the pesky little grin. It only takes a moment, a glance at his scarred form, for her hidden expression to turn to something much more somber. Even then, she was never a creature of subtlety, and there's no doubt by the look in her eyes that something has changed. "<She'll try her best, I believe that much. She's persistent and not quite as haughty when she doesn't have something to prove. Seems to understand that she doesn't know everything even if she won't say as much to the likes of you.>" The genasi's smile returns at that but it doesn't quite reach her eyes. They remain somber and distant as they gaze out across the sea, "<Wonder why that might be.>" "<Pride, probably. That's the way it usually is. That and my winning smile.>" Rust slides over on his rock some to make room for his new company. "<May as well soak up some warmth from the stones before we move, who knows when we'll get to be warm and dry again once we get underway.>" He pauses for a second before he adds "<So what's your deal anyway? Everyone else here are the sorts of people I'd expect to be cast off with on a deserted island after escaping a prison ship. You're different, not a lot of shy, reserved types wind up in prison on account of not wanting to bother none.>" That's almost enough to get a laugh. Definitely a sensible chuckle. As the conversation shift gears, Jan'ti pulls those long, lithe arms around her chest and holds tight. There's a brief moment of thought as she chews on her lower lip, considering whether or not to answer him."<I loved my home, I loved my people, and I hated what the Dominion did to them both.>" It certainly could have been presented with an air of nobility, some greater good and virtuous by its very nature. Jan'ti didn't seem to think of it that way. Her shoulders sank at the confession and her words were tinged with a sense of regret and the faintest edge, "<But I didn't know my people. Not really.>" "<What about you? Why did they lock you up?>" She gives him a sideways glance, "<Is it everything one would expect?>" Rust straightens his knees and shifts to sitting flat on his butt. <"Ahh, ain't that the way it usually is. It's hard to tell someone's mettle until the pressure is on. As far as why I'm here..."> he pauses momentarily as he cocks his head to the side. <"I'm not going to tell you I'm someone I'm not. My being there was no accident or twist of fate. I've done bad things in my life. Mostly to people who probably deserved it, some probably not so much. Been trained that way for as long as I can remember. But the real reason I wound up on that ship was betrayal.>" He pulls an old weathered twine cord off his neck with a small silver skull pendant dangling from it. "<There's a man out there who's got a necklace like this, except cast of Bizmuth bronze. My brother as it were, and if I ever meet him again I plan to put a shot between his eyes before he can do the same to me.>" Two tales of betrayal. What a small world they lived in. Or perhaps an especially treasonous one. Jan'ti gives the skull pendant a once over, as if committing the thing to memory, and then turns her eyes back towards the sand under foot. She's quiet for a moment seemingly contemplating Rust's story for better or worse. She lets it slip by with an unspoken acknowledgement prying no deeper than he had into her vague little tale."<I trust you.>" The words came with an unusually soft touch, "<Maybe I shouldn't. But, when I doubted you Dermid told me to wait and see. To give you a chance. Then you put your neck on the line for what, a book and some crates that could have been loaded with stones for all we knew?>" "<You didn't have to do that.>" Jan'ti turns her gaze on him once more, "<So why did you?>" Rust gives out a stout laugh and lays down. Casting a glance over to Jan'ti he smiles "<I didn't see anyone else rushing to climb down that hole. Except maybe Mazahar but I'd rather not try and lift him out of that pit with a rope.>"He pauses for a second to see if Jan'ti cracks a smile or not before continuing. "<We get through this by coming together, not moving apart. Quill wouldn't have taken it well for us to throw our hands in the air and say 'Nope, spiders'. Ideals aside, we need everyone working together to get through this. Like it or not we're a team.>" He sits back up and takes one more draw from his bottle before righting himself to his feet and spinning on his heels, turning back to camp. "<Well, break time's over, time to get this show on the road.>" He hands the bottle to Jan'ti and starts to swagger back to camp. She smiles. Even give s a soft, quiet laugh. Though she doesn't bother to respond. She'd had more than her fair share to say for their little adventure, and sometimes, it was just best to listen. It was nice to have some bond forming, a mutual understanding of the weight of their situation, one that she wasn't always sure the rest of the crew really felt. There's a moment as Rust confirms that they are, in fact, a team where Jan'ti considers opening her mouth only for the younger man to hop onto his feet and shove the bottle into her hands. She takes it without argument, eyeing the remains and taking another long swig from it before she follows suit. The storm was closing in and time was of the essence. DeathSandwich fucked around with this message at 19:22 on Jul 6, 2018 |
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Jul 6, 2018 19:20
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Rust was already planning to erect some makeshift camouflage around the boat when they had arrived upriver, but hearing the dragon's roar only made him redouble in speed. Cutting on fronds and hacking up nearby bushes and detritus and dragging it over to the boat. The last thing they needed at this junction was for the dragon to come back and wreck up another boat. The job wasn't the best he could have done. It won't hold up under close scrutiny but it could help mask their presence from something flying overhead very fast. After he completes his work, Rust moves into the overhang of the lava cave as a respite from the wind and the rain.
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Jul 6, 2018 19:37
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