CrazyHedgehog's Skull & Shackles Game (Inactive)

Game Master CrazyHedgehog

Fun and Action on the High Seas!


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The Exchange

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Private PbP game running "The Wormwood Mutiny". Aaargh!

The Exchange

Chapter One: The Wormwood

Slowly, slowly, your eyes open. Your head is pounding. And, your surroundings are unfamiliar. Wood plank walls and ceiling all round, and there appear to be several sleeping figures all around you, seemingly oblivious to the creaking sounds around the room and nearby screeching of gulls. The floor seems to be rocking too, swaying. You must be drunker than you thought. Or is this a wagon? No, wait. A ship! Rocking gently on the water. As you take this in, your mind casts back, trying to work out how you ended up here.

For Atajay, the last thing you remember is happily enjoying your shore leave in Port Peril, at the tavern The Formidably Maid. With your peg leg, everytime you spend on shore it takes you some time to regain your balance on land, so you’re not surprised that after a few drinks you were falling to the floor. After that, things were hazy, but you’re pretty sure you remember someone grabbing you by the arms and hauling you aboard a ship. He hazily considers what’s become of the crew of the ship he was berthed on, the Large Marge. Some of them, at least, he’s not bothered about seeing again.

Arven has similar groggy memories, even more pronounced considering the undine rarely steps on shore. One moment he was entertaining some ladies with the story of the shark that got his leg, red bandanna perched rakishly on his head, the next he was stumbling to the floor in a daze. Which tavern had he been at then? Oh yes, the Formidably Maid… Arven notices a strange taste in his mouth, something oily and tasting slightly like nutmeg.

Looking over, Batango remembers having seen the peg-legged Arven in the Formidably Maid, marvelling at the time at actually seeing an undine in the flesh. Having just arrived in Port Peril, looking for your destiny, you’re pretty sure this isn’t it. Or, is it? You try to pick yourself up, but your limbs are responding slowly. Batango likewise notices a strange taste in his mouth, odd since he’d only managed a tankard or two of beer at the tavern, at least that’s as far as you remember.

Kenya remembers sauntering in to the Formidably Maid, looking for rumors of the Bloodblade, but instead making the acquaintance of a pretty tiefling sailor. Looking over, you can see that she’s here as well, like you slowly coming round. You both have memories of walking jauntily out of the tavern together, drunker than you thought, because the thugs that leaped out of the alley and took you captive caught you completely by surprise. Kenya also notices a strange aftertaste.
Before you can do any more than sit up, several pairs of heavy boots enter the darkened room, and the harsh light of a lantern painfully spears your eyes. A man with tightly bound dreadlocks and holding a cat-o-nine-tails enters with six other rough-looking sailors holding saps accompanying him. The man with the whip regards you with distaste, and you realize that nearly all your equipment has been taken from you.


“Still abed with the sun over the yardarm? On your feet, ye filthy swabs! Get up on deck and report for duty before Cap’n Harrigan flays your flesh into sausage skins and has Fishguts fry ye up for breakfast!”

Welcome to the Wormwood! Feel free to begin posting. There are several press-ganged sailors, so for those who are still finishing their characters, jump in whenever you’re ready.


Male Human (Preacher) Inquisitor 15 | AC 23/17/21 | HP 97/105 | F+15,R+16,W+14 (Stalwart)| +1 v charms, compulsions) (Stalwart)| Init.+12, Perc+18, SM+24 | Judgment 5/day |Determination 5/day |

Still loopy from whatever happened at the bar last night, Atajay was oblivious to the surroundings. All he focused on was the blaring voice in his eyes, demanding he rise. Ah Gods, what mess have you gotten yourself into this time?

It took some doing, but the slender man was able to pull himself to his feet, or foot, as the case might be. As the ship lurched, he was forced to take a step forward, and his wooden left leg thumped loudly on the deck. He shielded his eyes with his arm, as the early morning sun was already beating down on him. He noticed some random strangers beside him, but other than that, did not notice anything in particular. While getting his head about him, he decided that silence would be the most prudent course of action for the time being.


Female Tiefling (Beastbrood) Bard 3; Init. +1; Perception -1, Darkvision 60 ft.; AC 14 (+1 Dex., +1 natural, +2 armour); hp 30; Fort 3, Ref +5, Will +3 (+4 vs. enchantment)

Quara squeezes her eyes shut against the sudden glare and snarls like a disturbed tiger -- appropriately so.

The next moment, though, she is staggering to her feet and makes a feeble attempt at a salute.
'Someone took my stuff, and I'm in a ship's hold. An enclosed space. Let's see where this goes, at least until I'm out in the open.'

"Sir, yessir," the tiefling says, her voice hoarse, and she salutes more smoothly. "Jus' making my horrible self presentable, sir."

Looking around, Quara spots a somewhat bedraggled hat, snatches it up and plants it on her dark hair. She tugs her belt straight, putting the wooden symbol of Cayden Cailean at the front.

"All ship-shape and accounted for, sir," the tiefling says, saluting in a crisp manner, her voice almost normal. "Front and centering, sir."

And a very comical Diplomacy check of 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (8) + 10 = 18.


"In Cayden's name. What happened? Where am I?" Bolting upright as the noise reaches my ears, I immediately fall back down. "Ooh, my poor head. Did I really drink that much?" Then I realize there's a strange taste in my mouth. Something oily and tasting a bit like nutmeg. "Who in the Nine Hells put those drugs in my drink?"

Realizing my gear is gone, a thought crashes through the tumbling chaos in my mind "My ring. Must have my ring. Can't lose my ring. It's my only link to my father. Where is it? My hand goes to the secret pocket in my shirt, right under my breast and with a sigh of relief I feel the familiar shape of my ring. "Cayden be praised. Smart move, A'vi, putting your ring in there before hitting that dive, The Formidably Maid. Glad you thought of it. It would surely be lost if you hadn't."

Slowly I get up, shielding my eyes from the piercing light. Looking around, I see there's more people who seem to have been brought here after having been drugged. "Shadow. You okay?" My familiar, resting as a tattoo on my chest, responds with a sense of calm washing over me. Looking at the loudmouth, and the tiefling standing before him, I realize we seem to have been pressganged onto a pirate vessel. "Great. With all the bad luck lately, ending up here really takes the crown. Alright, turn down the volume. We're about three feet away from you and have very poor chance of not hearing you. So, please step aside and let me pass. I need fresh air before I'm going to throw up whatever rotgut I drank last night."
Not waiting for an answer, I go up the stairs to the deck and into the bright daylight, seeing water all around with no land in sight. "That's just great. Now I need to find a way to get off of this bucket before I can continue to search for my father."


Female Human Gunslinger 1

What the hell happened? I remember a pretty tiefling girl, and some men... Taking a gander about herself, clutching her aching head, Kenya sourly notes that she's been press-gange.

Not that I wouldn't do the same myself. Ship needs a crew after all. Loyal ones are better though.

Standing, she immediately recognizes the saluting tiefling, and feels a vague sense of familiarity as she stares at the man with the cat o' nine tails.

"Well, fabulous job men, you've caught me. Don't get any funny ideas now though. If I knew where my granddad's blade was at, you'd have seen naught of me in the first place." She calmly lays her hands at her thighs, checking for her dagger under the pants. Still there. These men aren't too efficient.


Male Human (Preacher) Inquisitor 15 | AC 23/17/21 | HP 97/105 | F+15,R+16,W+14 (Stalwart)| +1 v charms, compulsions) (Stalwart)| Init.+12, Perc+18, SM+24 | Judgment 5/day |Determination 5/day |

Three women in the crew, and all of 'em yappy, by the sound of it. One is already kissing ass, another the opposite.

Atajay simply shook his head, realizing his immediate future was not shaping up to be pleasant.


Batango stirs, the lightest groan escaping from his dry, cracked lips. He dreamed of waves and squalls and snakes all crashing in on him, but he had been aground. The sway of his waking tells him that such things had changed, however. The smell of a ship's hold is all too familiar - salt and wood and the general grime of too many things in too close of quarters. It is a comforting smell, as welcoming as the gulls chanting beyond the woodwork. But still, he does not quite remember boarding the ship, and not remembering how one got somewhere was never good. But, ah...de call of the de sea, perhaps...did it bring me to here?'

Stirring, the clumsiness of his limbs worries him. He's an aging man, but not yet quite so cumbersome. He dismisses it as the result of a rough sleep and moves to sit, shaking the long tangle of his seaweed-threaded dreadlocks from his weathered face. Spying his cabinmates, he starts for half a second before his eyes fall on the undine. I remember dis one...

He ponders on this as the sailors burst in, barking their threats and demands. He listens as the others respond, but does not take part. He has been on enough ships to know captain's law. Even if he was not a member of this crew by choice, here he was for good or ill, and he was not about to protest his situation. His heart sinks suddenly as he thinks of Tabook, his other half. He opens his mouth to call for the otter but quickly abandons that idea. He waits wordless to be ushered from the room that he might better weigh the situation.


Male Human Savage Barbarian 5
Spoiler:
HP:55(65)/55(65) AC 18/15/14 Saves F+7:R+5:W+3 Rage: 12/12;

Arven groggily rubs the sleep from his eyes and sits up, looks around. With a look of resignation on his face, he says "Not again... women!!" He rises and spits on the floor, trying to remove the foul taste in his mouth, as he hears a voice mentioning drugs, "Damn well poisoned... I paid good money for her too!" as he looks to see who spoke those words. A young female, longs legs, Arven begins to smile, a shapely figure and, he blinks, a tattoo. The smile widens as he watches the lady climb the stairs to the deck.

The brightness of the day assaults his eyes, the silhouette of six thugs, no fellow travelers, and a cat in the hands of their superior. Arven likes the odds, he goes to his belt and discovers his cutlass is missing. He looks around in the darkness hoping to spy his possessions, there are no mounds of blackness, no bag containing his weapons.

"Oi, big man, where's me stuff, you want me to work for you, I need my equipment, my weapons?" he asks with anger in his voice. He sees others in the hold, "Me friends and I could do with having our stuff back, if it wouldn't be too much trouble."

Diplomacy 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (18) - 2 = 16

The Exchange

The dreadlocked man with the whip looks unimpressed with the salutes, though he gives a slight nod to Arven for his straight talking. He grunts Yer on the Wormwood now, if you want yer stuff ye'll have to earn it. Now, enough of that! There plenty of time for salutes after ye meet the capt'n." He grabs the closest of you and shoves you towards a ladder leading up to a hatch. The other sailors grab the rest of you ungently and herd you through towards it as well. "Alright!" he roars. "Get up on deck, ye swabs. The capt'n wants to see yeh."

As you head out through the doorway, a memory comes back to A'vandira. Leaving the Formidably Maid, wandering down to the harbour and gazing at the myriad ships tied up. The face of the man who came up behind and knocked you out with a blow to the head, is the man holding the whip. Batango dredges up similar memories, of the man and some of the others hauling him aboard the ship. Quara as well, remembers him as the man who led the group that sprang out of the alley and waylaid you and Kenya.

You are led up a steep ladder out onto the main deck, bright sunlight stinging your eyes. You see that you are on a sizable ship, sailing in the middle of a crystal blue sea. Port Peril and the mainland of the Shackles are just an ochre haze many miles astern. Figures cluster around the ship's mainmast, looking up at the higher deck on the stern, where two figures stand. One of them is a broad, muscular Garundi man with a shaven head, a long beard bound with golden coins, and an eye patch - clearly the captain. The other is a younger, balding man with a long, black ponytail, wearing a long coat and carrying a well-used cat-o'-nine-tails.

Standing on the deck, you notice at least four others amongst those gathered who must also have been press-ganged like yourselves, set apart by their relative cleanliness and their apparent unease with their newfound situation. A dozen or so other pirates, clearly existing members of the ship's crew, stand about on the deck or in the ship's rigging.

The captain looks down at those of you gathered on the main deck. “Glad you could join us at last! Welcome to the Wormwood! My thanks for ‘volunteering’ to join my crew." he says sardonically. "I’m Barnabas Harrigan. That’s Captain Barnabas Harrigan to you, not that you’ll ever need to address me. I have only one rule—don’t speak to me. I like talk, but I don’t like your talk. Follow that rule and we’ll all get along fine." He glares at you with his one good eye.

“Oh, and one more thing. Even with you new recruits, we’re still short-handed, and I aim to keep what crew I have. There’ll be a keel-haulin’ for anyone caught killin’ anyone. Mr. Plugg! If you’d be so kind as to make pirates out of these landlubbers, it’ll save me having to put them in the sweatbox for a year and a day before I make pies out of ’em.”

Finished with his speech, the captain turns and walks away, leaving the man with the cat-o'-nine-tails. The balding man looks down at the you and the other impressed captives and smiles unpleasantly. "Alright me hearties! Time to see what you can do. Master Scourge!" [b] he calls down with a raspy voice. [b] "Be so kind as to line them up." He stalks down to the main deck and looks at each of you disparagingly before gesturing towards the rigging up to the crow's nest. "This ship be needing another sailor to work the rigging. Climb! The first to the crow's nest gets the job. And the rest of you, climb or you'll get a taste of the whip. Climb! Climb!" he grins cruelly, cracking the whip slightly.

Please, can everyone make 12 climb checks. The crow's nest is 60-feet above the deck, you can climb at one-quarter your base speed, 12 rolls should be enough to determine winner. :)


Female Tiefling (Beastbrood) Bard 3; Init. +1; Perception -1, Darkvision 60 ft.; AC 14 (+1 Dex., +1 natural, +2 armour); hp 30; Fort 3, Ref +5, Will +3 (+4 vs. enchantment)

Quara almost snarls - but not quite.

'Company's not to my liking, but a ship's a ship, and we'll see what happens...'

The tiefling spits in her hands, then leaps up and starts to climb the rigging.

Climb checks:
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (12) + 5 = 17
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (3) + 5 = 8
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (9) + 5 = 14
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9

And just for fun:
Bardic knowledge - Barnabas Harrigan: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
Bardic knowledge - Mr. Plugg: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13
Bardic knowledge - The Wormwood and its scurvy crew: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 = 20


Female Human Gunslinger 1

Ugh. It always has to start with the rigging. I know it's an important job, but I'm not a swab or a rigger dammit, I'm a future pirate queen!

Kenya loosens up her shoulders, and with gritted teeth, starts to climb.

Climb:1d20 ⇒ 9
Climb:1d20 ⇒ 20
Climb:1d20 ⇒ 5
Climb:1d20 ⇒ 7
Climb:1d20 ⇒ 3
Climb:1d20 ⇒ 12
Climb:1d20 ⇒ 18
Climb:1d20 ⇒ 16
Climb:1d20 ⇒ 17
Climb:1d20 ⇒ 13
Climb:1d20 ⇒ 18
Climb:1d20 ⇒ 9


Male Human Savage Barbarian 5
Spoiler:
HP:55(65)/55(65) AC 18/15/14 Saves F+7:R+5:W+3 Rage: 12/12;

Climb 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8
Climb 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13
Climb 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (9) + 6 = 15
Climb 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25
Climb 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21
Climb 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23
Climb 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23
Climb 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (3) + 6 = 9
Climb 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10
Climb 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (17) + 6 = 23
Climb 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8
Climb 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25

Arven waits for the woman with the legs to start climbing and starts following her up, "If you need a hand up just holla!" he says as he passes her, smiling from ear to ear. "Me name's Arven" he winks and continues to climb.


"Oh crap. Like I'm built to climb the rigging of this tub. Look on the bright side, A'vi. If you get the job, you'll be sitting in the crow's nest, more or less alone and not having to do all the crap they usually make sailors do. I think it's best to make the best of it. I might even come to enjoy it. At least I'll get to see the world. But I need to find my father. I want him to tell me more about the power of his aquatic bloodline.

Looking up at the row's nest, I let out a sigh. Then, hopping up onto the railing I start climbing the rigging. Casting a sideway look at the Undine, I grin back at him: "My name is A'vandira, but you can call me Raven. And I'll be sure to let you know when I need a hand."


Climb check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Climb check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9
Climb check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
Climb check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Climb check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17
Climb check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 10
Climb check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 1 = 18
Climb check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 1 = 21
Climb check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 10
Climb check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 1 = 18
Climb check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9
Climb check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (14) + 1 = 15


As Batango and his new crewmates are shuffled onto the top deck, he regards the words and actions of the others, noting them in his mind. He continues to keep quiet, not quite finding his place to speak. Still unsure of the situation and the dangers it presents, he keeps to himself and moves along with the crowd. As some of the Wormwood crew pushes him along, a flash of memory hits him and he recalls the big man and a few of the others bringing him onto the ship in quite the same way. A passing cloud of anger passes over him but he does his best to wind it away as to not break his nerve.

As the captain speaks, Batango listens intently. He doesn't recall this Barnabas Harrigan, but then again, he had been secluded for sometime. When told they are to climb, the witch winces slightly, such labor not being his strong suit. After the captain leaves and they are lined up, Batango finds his space to speak.

"Now now, I will try and climb dis if you wish, but I am no man to work de rigging. I think you will find better use for dis one. A witch of de sea am I, and weaver of ill fate and omen. Let me use dese gifts to aid dis ship and crew."

If made to climb anyway, I will do so.

1d20 - 1 ⇒ (17) - 1 = 16
1d20 - 1 ⇒ (6) - 1 = 5
1d20 - 1 ⇒ (16) - 1 = 15
1d20 - 1 ⇒ (9) - 1 = 8
1d20 - 1 ⇒ (12) - 1 = 11
1d20 - 1 ⇒ (5) - 1 = 4
1d20 - 1 ⇒ (2) - 1 = 1
1d20 - 1 ⇒ (13) - 1 = 12
1d20 - 1 ⇒ (19) - 1 = 18
1d20 - 1 ⇒ (11) - 1 = 10
1d20 - 1 ⇒ (14) - 1 = 13
1d20 - 1 ⇒ (2) - 1 = 1


Male Human (Preacher) Inquisitor 15 | AC 23/17/21 | HP 97/105 | F+15,R+16,W+14 (Stalwart)| +1 v charms, compulsions) (Stalwart)| Init.+12, Perc+18, SM+24 | Judgment 5/day |Determination 5/day |

"I'm no climber as you will quickly discover..."

Climb 1d20 ⇒ 14
1d20 ⇒ 12
1d20 ⇒ 18
1d20 ⇒ 3
1d20 ⇒ 6
1d20 ⇒ 16
1d20 ⇒ 15
1d20 ⇒ 19
1d20 ⇒ 18
1d20 ⇒ 20
1d20 ⇒ 8
1d20 ⇒ 1

The Exchange

Mister Plugg watches, grimacing as you and the other new "recruits" take to the rigging. When several of you seem to have trouble climbing or don't appear to be in a hurry to reach the crow's nest, he rolls his eyes. Bald except for a black ponytail and sporting long, narrow beard, Mr. Plugg somehow looks angry, miserable, and uncomfortable, all at the same time. Bare-chested, he wears an immaculate coat with pearl buttons and carries a cat-o’-nine-tails with him at all times. He clearly takes great pride in himself—everything about him shines, from the polish on his boots to the dome of his head. His teeth are gray and yellow, however, and his face is fixed in an almost constant grimace. "Master Scourge. Please remind them of their task."

Scourge steps forward and starts laying in to those still on the deck with his whip. As you feel its sting, you leap up the ropes, anything to get away! Scourge cracks the whip at Batango for speaking instead of climbing, for 2 points of nonlethal damage. The following round he cracks the whip at A'vandira for taking so long to get up into the rigging (4 unsuccessful climb checks to begin!), for 3 points of nonlethal damage. The round after that he turns on Arven, for ogling the long-legged sorceress, for 3 points of nonlethal damage. The pirates don't play nice.)

As you make your way hand over hand up the rigging, you suddenly realize how high up the crow's nest is, and how much canvas is needed to catch the wind and push the ship. Climbing up, you see a cage hanging from the mizzenmast. Inside is a dead man. A parrot sits sullenly on top of the cage and eyeballs you as you climb past. It is a race to the top, and very close indeed, with several reaching the crow's nest at the same time. Arven, after introducing himself to A'vandira, climbs up quickly, fairly easily overtaking most of you to reach the top. However it is Atajay, who manages to reach up and climb into the crow's nest, leaning against the railing to catch his breath, when Arvan grasps the edge.

Once you all climb back down to the main deck, Mister Plugg nods at Atajay and says: "Congratulations. You are our new rigger. You will report directly to me. As for the rest of you," he eyes you each in turn, "It seems our esteemed cook is in need of an assistant. Who here can cook?" He seems to be looking at each of you, trying to determine who is the most well-fed.

Quara Sher:

As you are climbing the rigging, you rack your brain for any previous mention of the captain, Mister Plugg, or the Wormwood.

Mister Plugg: You've heard rumours of this fellow. You don't think he's been on the Wormwood for long, a year at most. Ambitious. He certainly seems to be the apple of the captain's eye, that one. If you think Master Scourge has been treating you raw, then Plugg looks to be interminably worse. One piece of advice - do as he says.

The Wormwood: The Wormwood is a three-masted sailing ship, 100 feet long from stem to stern, and 30 feet wide amidships. The ship and her captain have made a reputation of plaguing Chelish merchant shipping in the Inner Sea and Arcadian Ocean. His last venture must have met with an ill fate, for the Wormwood returned with its crew near decimated. Which is probably how you came to be impressed aboard as crew.

------

DM rolls:

whip 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21
damage 1d3 ⇒ 2
whip 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25
damage 1d3 ⇒ 3
whip 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (11) + 6 = 17
damage 1d3 ⇒ 3
rigger 1d6 ⇒ 5
cook's mate 1d6 ⇒ 4
swab 1d6 ⇒ 5
swab 1d6 ⇒ 4
swab 1d6 ⇒ 3
swab 1d6 ⇒ 3


Female Tiefling (Beastbrood) Bard 3; Init. +1; Perception -1, Darkvision 60 ft.; AC 14 (+1 Dex., +1 natural, +2 armour); hp 30; Fort 3, Ref +5, Will +3 (+4 vs. enchantment)

"Not me," Quara says. "I'm a carpenter and a sawbones. If you want someone to make repairs to ship or crew, I can be right useful; I can cut off a crushed limb and fit the owner for a peg in one go. But for the sake of everyone's stomachs, you don't want me trying to make food. I spend too much time rooting around in mortified flesh and varnish."


Male Human (Preacher) Inquisitor 15 | AC 23/17/21 | HP 97/105 | F+15,R+16,W+14 (Stalwart)| +1 v charms, compulsions) (Stalwart)| Init.+12, Perc+18, SM+24 | Judgment 5/day |Determination 5/day |

Atajay looks around in horror, realizing he somehow made it to the top first, even with his peg leg. "dammit Arven, was it? What kept ya? I'm no climber. Now I'm expected to try to deal with all that rigging!".

After his hissy fit at the crow's nest, he climbs back down and listens to Plugg's assignments. Yep, still me. This might be a problem...


Female Human Gunslinger 1

"I've no formal training in cookery. A smattering of alchemical knowledge, but no senss for taste."


Male Human Savage Barbarian 5
Spoiler:
HP:55(65)/55(65) AC 18/15/14 Saves F+7:R+5:W+3 Rage: 12/12;

Arven shrugs at the other man with a peg leg. He smiles back, "Least you won't be feeding a shark your wooden leg up there!" laughing he continues. "So what do they call you then?"

He nudges Raven, "Say Raven, you look like a tasty one, wanna cook for me?" he whispers in her ear and puts his arm round her waist, pushing her slightly forward, saying loudly, "Let this wench cook us all a tasty treat eh? She'll make the galley a pretty place." his smile is as wide as a Cheshire cat. Then slyly says to Raven, "My pretty bird, Raven, it will be safer and easier work than being a swab like me!" Returning back to the first mate, he says "I'm a damn fine cook if you like charcoal and all things black. Your choice of course." He watches the cat, for any movement, not sure if the first mate will take umbrage at the words he spoke.


Male Human (Preacher) Inquisitor 15 | AC 23/17/21 | HP 97/105 | F+15,R+16,W+14 (Stalwart)| +1 v charms, compulsions) (Stalwart)| Init.+12, Perc+18, SM+24 | Judgment 5/day |Determination 5/day |

Atajay introduces himself to the other sailor before they all descend and meet wih the rest of the crew. "I'm Artival. I'll be damned if one of those could beasts will get another part of me," he groans, clearly blanching at the talk of sharks.


Casting a murderous look at the pirate called Mr. Scourge, I try to make my way up the rigging. In my mind I can hear Shadow, promising me vengeance on the pirate later. Panting I manage to reach the crow's nest, only to find out that I have been beaten to it, by about every other contestant in the race. Making my way back down with a chagrined look on my face, I finally reach the deck again, where the others are gathered around Mr. Plugger.

Hearing him inquire about our cooking skills, I am about to decline when I suddenly feel an arm around my waist, pushing me forward. Stiffening, I whip my head around, hissing at Arven "Whaddaya think yer doin'? Wanna have a hook hand to go with that peg leg of yours? No touching, mate. Not without me saying it's okay. Am I making myself clear?" Then it dawns on me that he is trying to get me into a more or less secure job. Blushing embarrassedly I turn away, mumbling some sort of apology. "Sorry. Bad experiences."

Turning towards Plugger: "Well, I've not had any formal training, but I do like cooking, so if the master of the galley needs an assistant, I guess I'm the girl he needs. Just show me where to go and I'll get to work."


Batango narrows his eyes as he is struck with the whip, mentally chastising these louts for their failure in seeing the wisdom of his proposal. I told dem I work de fates and fortunes. Perhapds dey will be more inviting if accidents were to begin.

The grumbling witch is unsurprised by his sub-par climbing performance and does not let it bother him. When the talk of a cook's apprentice arises, Batango chimes in.

"I can make no lavish meals, but I can make food to sustain de crew."


Male Human Savage Barbarian 5
Spoiler:
HP:55(65)/55(65) AC 18/15/14 Saves F+7:R+5:W+3 Rage: 12/12;

"Raven, we'll share this voyage together and maybe it'll get rid of your 'bad experiences'." the tattooed blue humanoid breathes to the woman, as he still smiles at her, his thoughts of enjoying the 'cruise' every hopeful.

Then letting go of Raven, giving her a quick hug of pressure where his hand still rests on her waist, he turns to Artival. "Ha say Artival, you and me both brother, that's why they call me 'The Shark's Friend', cos I fed one of them.", he laughs and taps his peg leg on the ground. "You must tell me your tale, make the nights go shorter eh! just like our legs." his joviality and laugh make him convulse as the strength of his laughter brings tears to his eyes.


Male Human (Preacher) Inquisitor 15 | AC 23/17/21 | HP 97/105 | F+15,R+16,W+14 (Stalwart)| +1 v charms, compulsions) (Stalwart)| Init.+12, Perc+18, SM+24 | Judgment 5/day |Determination 5/day |

Atajay was confused by the reaction of the warrior. He finds humor in his scars. Either he is insane or he found a way to deal much better with his injury. "It will take quite a bit of drink to loosen my tongue about that. I've decided I'll do my best to poach every shark out of the ocean before its all said and done, though. Mangy dead eyed bastards!"

Sorry, typed the wrong character name in an earlier post. It's Atajay, not Artival. My bad.

The Exchange

Mr Plugg walks down the line, listening to each of your responses. He stops at Kenya's response, considers, then moves on, also noting Quara's answer. He considers both A'vandira's and Batango's answers, then turns to the latter, poking the older man in the stomach. "You. You will assist Fishguts in the galley. The rest of you," he bellows, "are swabs. Master Scourge here will put you to work. Master Scourge! Their assignments please."

With that, he turns to walk up to the Poop Deck. First, he stops and turns to Atajay: "You're name? You'll draw first shift in the nest as lookout. Move along up there. Shout down if you see anything. Understand?" Then, before you realize you've been dismissed, he moves along. Please if you can make a Perception check, Atajay. Your "shift" lasts all day and your roll will be an indication of how well you do at your post. Or should I say Artival?

Master Scourge forms the rest of you, apart from Batango, into teams. Arven is assigned messenger duties, running messages to crew and officers all over the ship. It proves to be a good instruction into the workings of the Wormwood. . Arven, please can you make an Acrobatics check as well as a Constitution check. The Acrobatics check represents you dodging equipment and crew as you try to race efficiently all over the ship, bar officers' cabins. The Constitution check represents how exhausted you feel at the end of your shift.

Scourge has A'vandira tying and untying knots in the ship’s ropes and moving heavy coils of rope from one part of the ship to another. It turns out to be strenuous work, the ropes heavy and cumbersome. Raven, please can you make a Strength check and Constitution check? The Strength check to show how well you can lug around the ropes, and the Con check as above to avoid fatigue from the long shift.

Kenya and Quara at least are able to work together, beign assigned to swabbing the decks. You start with the main deck, scrubbing the planks with sandstone blocks called holystones. It's backbreaking work, and you can feel the eyes of Master Scourge on you as he spends quite a bit of time on the main deck watching you. Indeed, Captain Harrigan and Mister Plugg spend much of their time at the aft of the ship on the Poop Deck, and occasionally cast an appraising eye on the new recruits.

Batango is sent by Scourge down to the galley, to assist Ambrose "Fishguts" Kroop. He turns out to be a large fellow, not tall but easily over 200 pounds. He exudes an air of neglect, perhaps even despair, from the bushy tufts of black hair behind his ears, to his rotting teeth, to the stains on his filthy apron. He walks with
a wallowing waddle, and you can tell that even at this early hour he is getting cozily drunk. He speaks with a thick Shackles accent, which makes it hard for you to follow sometimes. "HeyAhoy!, what be you doin' here? Plugg! He thinks I need help! He doesn't know what he's talkin' about. Here, you want t' help, you can catch some turtles T' captain be wantin' turtle soup tonight." Soon you are sent up to the main deck with harpoons, treble hooks, and nets, trying to catch leatherback turtles. Batango, please can you make a Profession (fisherman) check if you have the skill or else a Survival check. Success means you catch enough turtles for everyone's dinner.

Batango, from your short foray into the galley, you see the cramped
and chaotic kitchen is crammed with two wooden worktables, several wooden cupboards, and two small stoves against the port wall, as well as virtually every cooking utensil imaginable and a frightening array of meat cleavers. A score of chickens and three goats wander freely throughout the chamber. In addition, in a wooden cage hanging from the ceiling, is a familiar looking otter! Obviously Kroop hasn't decided what to do with this find. The stoves are perpetually lit, and large cauldrons bubble away atop them all times. A huge array of spices mingle with barrels of rainwater, two tuns of rum, cupboards full of
ship’s biscuit and salted beef, barrels of sauerkraut, and a small supply of fresh vegetables picked up in Port Peril.

I think I'll post up maps of the Wormwood soon, in the campaign thread. I wasn't sure if Paizo would allow it on their boards, but haven't had any trouble posting up other maps so far. I'll take them down if they cause trouble. I'll try to post up portraits of the officers as well.


Female Tiefling (Beastbrood) Bard 3; Init. +1; Perception -1, Darkvision 60 ft.; AC 14 (+1 Dex., +1 natural, +2 armour); hp 30; Fort 3, Ref +5, Will +3 (+4 vs. enchantment)

"Well," Quara whispers to Kenya when she has the idea that no one is watching them, "'leastwise we're not cleaning out chamberpots or gutting fish. That's a plus for now, right? As for future pluses... Eyes open, wits sharp, matey."

The tigreish tiefling winks at Kenya before moving on with her stone.


Male Human (Preacher) Inquisitor 15 | AC 23/17/21 | HP 97/105 | F+15,R+16,W+14 (Stalwart)| +1 v charms, compulsions) (Stalwart)| Init.+12, Perc+18, SM+24 | Judgment 5/day |Determination 5/day |

"I'm Atajay," the sorcerer grunts as he starts his climb, back up to the crow's nest. His peg leg didn't help, but it didn't hurt as he was able to brace it against some of the rigging, which made his climb a bit less harrowing. Once up there, he glanced around the ship, seeing what all he could make out down below. He also looked out, making sure no ships were closing on his new one.

Perception 1d20 ⇒ 3


Male Human Savage Barbarian 5
Spoiler:
HP:55(65)/55(65) AC 18/15/14 Saves F+7:R+5:W+3 Rage: 12/12;

Arven relaxes a bit thinking his the easiest job, running around the ship. Yet by the end of the day, he feels exhausted.

Can Arven discover where their possessions went when they were brought aboard?

Acrobatics 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14
Constitution 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5


Mentally taking notes about those who will face my anger once I'm free, keeps me occupied, as I slave away with the heavy coils of rope. Fortunately, Shadow's voice in my mind, keeps me from doing anything rash.
Lugging the coils around requires serious effort, but despite that, I feel quite well at the end of the day.

Strength check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (12) + 1 = 13
Constitution check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19


"I can do dis thing" Batango says as he is given his post. When he reaches the galley, he looks about the room a bit hesitantly, eying all of the cluttered crates and containers to familiarize himself with the contents. "I don't know if you needin' my help, Fishguts, but dey send me here besides. I am no great chef but I can stir a pot and cook meat through." When he is given the command to catch some turtles, he holds back a sigh. "Cook or fisherman, dese are different, but I will go..." His voice trails off as he notices the otter in the cage. His heart skips a beat and he nearly calls out to his familiar but catches the words in this throat. "Dat thing is no good for eating, I am thinking. I have had rodents before and dey are no fit meal for such a fine ship. Maybe I am taking dis furry one for bait?"

With Tabook in tow or not, Batango goes topside and attempts to use the allotted equipment to wrangle in some turtles.

Survival: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19

The Exchange

Batango, please could you make a Diplomacy check for convincing Kroop to let you take Tabook off his hands? Diplomacy checks in general can be made at any time with the crew.

The Exchange

Arven, in the course of your errand running and by talking to other members of the crew, you learn that all of your gear has been taken to the Quartermaster's store, on the middle deck. The half-orc, Cut-Throat Grok, acts as Quartermaster on this ship. Technically, your gear has been declared loot and as such now belongs to Captain Harrigan. However, this is a pirate ship, and everything has its price. The store acts as an unofficial shop, and as such the crew suggest you could buy back your gear from the Quartermaster.


Diplomacy: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

The Exchange

The day passes, and the Wormwood sails on. You work hard at your tasks under the watchful eyes of the ship's officers, and indeed the work seems designed to keep everyone busy and out of mischief. Apparently, a tired crew is a crew less likely to cause trouble.

Kenya and Quara spend time under the hot sun, scrubbing the upper decks until they gleam. Master Scourge walks among you, and constantly points out that the job hasn't been done properly and instructs you to start over, but by the end you do an adequate job. Occasionally you catch a glimpse of the other "new recruits" as Batango makes space for himself at the railings of the fore deck to catch sea turtles, and A'vandira and Arven cross back and forth about the ship on their duties. There are some fellow scrubbers, including a couple women sailors that you have opportunities to catch some snippets of conversation with. Forgot to say previously that for your day's assignments you both needed to make either a Strength check or Con check, so on this occasion I've rolled for you. You both passed admirably, completing your back-breaking tasks without becoming exhausted.

One is fiery red-haired human woman named Sandara Quinn, and her appearance suggests she is someone not to be crossed. However, the smile lines at the corners of her eyes and the way she holds herself belies a lighter side. She wears a tricorn hat with a seagull feather, and you catch a glimpse of a chain around her neck with an ebony holy symbol of Besmara discreetly tucked under her blouse. Though she explains that she's only recently gone to sea, arriving in Port Peril and falling afoul of the Wormwood's crew, she seems quite knowledgeable about the sea and sailing. "Don't worry, there could be worse places to be than on this tub. And I've found, it's not what you know here, but who you know. But surely, Besmara looks after her own, doesn't she?" She bites her tongue as Scourge passes by, and casually kicks over her bucket of seawater, causing her to have to fill it up. In fact, throughout the day, Scourge makes a point of doing small things to inconvenience her, and you can see the enmity on his face.

The other woman sailor is a young halfling woman named Rosie Cusswell, who despite her size seems to have more muscles than most of the crew. A gleaming handaxe hangs at her belt. As she scrubs and mops, she spends most of her time mouthing foul curses under her breath. Against the Wormwood, against Master Scourge and Mister Plugg, and most especially about the fact that her prized fiddle is still in the Quartermaster's store.

A'vandira and Arven perform their tasks admirably, and become acquainted with some of the crew. There appear to be 19 sailors aboard, along with 12 officers and the captain. By dusk, when your assignments are completed, Arven is feeling especially worn out from his exertions. Well done, both of you completed your jobs suitably well to avoid chastisement, though Arven unfortunately you are now fatigued until you can get some rest.

Atajay finds sitting up in the crow's nest not to be the exciting adventure he expected, peering out at the expanse of the sea, Port Peril rapidly dwindling behind the ship. Occasionally one of the other riggers comes up to join you at the top. One especially is a foppish gnome sailor with an eye patch, who introduces himself as Conchobar Shortstone. He wears an outlandish purple hat, a finely-groomed handlebar mustache, and clothes that suggest more that he's dressing up as a pirate than is a true buccaneer. However, he dances amongst the rigging with ease and seems to know what he's doing. Whenever he is up at the crow's nest, he stops to take in the view, as much the sea as looking down at the cadre of ladies scrubbing the deck, twirling his mustache. Like you, he has not been on the ship long, but seems to have large ambitions, and although he's grateful for the moment's rest from his climbing he's quick to be off again before he can be spotted dawdling by the captain or Mister Plugg. When you finish your task Mister Plugg is unexpectedly harsh, despite the fact there aren't any hazards to be seen. He says you were inattentive, and that in future he will not be so kind, flicking his whip threateningly. Plugg's response due to failed Perception check, I'm afraid. He's a hard taskmaster.

------

DM rolls:

Quara Con check 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17
Kenya Con check 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14

The Exchange

Batango, nearly forgot you! With your roll, you successfully complete your job. I'll update with Tabook's fate depending on the results of your Diplomacy (or Bluff) check.

Batango, you find your task easier than you expected. Through use of the nets and harpoon, you manage to catch several sea turtles out of the clear blue sea, plenty for Kroop to make enough soup to feed all the crew. As you fish, you keep picturing in your mind Tabook hanging from the cage in the galley, hooting in glee when he saw you. While you offered to take him off Kroop's hands, he responded that he'd think about it, and let you know after dinner.

Arven, A'vandira, Batango, Kenya, and Quara, you each receive 100 bonus XP for completing your first day's tasks. Don't worry, Atajay, there are plenty of opportunities to win more XPs.

At dusk, work on the ship begins to wind down, and you each complete your assigned tasks for the day. Before heading below decks for mealtime, you notice the crew gathering on the main deck. After a few minutes two pirates roughly haul a man onto the deck. Sandara quickly fills you in: this is Jakes Magpie, a swab who was caught stealing from the quartermaster's store last night. He admitted it to the captain and Plugg, he's spent the last day down in the bilges and now he is to receive his punishment. Mister Plugg announces the man's crimes, and that his punishment is to be keelhauled.

A rope is looped around the ship's hull, then Jakes is tied to one end. Mister Plugg and Master Scourge, and a couple other pirates tug at the other end as Jakes is dragged underwater, down one side of the ship's barnacle encrusted hull and up the other side. It takes a couple minutes for the unfortunate sailor to be dragged around the underside of the ship, and what appears on the other side has been cut to shreds and is soon thrown overboard to feed the sharks. With the spectacle finished, most of the crew retire below decks for their evening meal.

A'vandira & Batango:
As the two of you watch the keelhauling, you notice the relish with which, in particular, Mister Plugg tugs at the rope dragging the unfortunate Jakes Magpie underwater.

------

DM rolls:

Atajay percept 1d20 ⇒ 12
Arven percept 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12
A'vandira percept 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17
Batango percept 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (20) + 3 = 23
Kenya percept 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8
Quara percept 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (10) - 1 = 9

The Exchange

After an evening meal of turtle soup (as the crew explains, a rather tasty change from drunken Kroop's usual offerings), your time is your own. You are each given a space for a hammock on the lower deck with the other crew, as well as a footlocker which can be used for your possessions ( Each looker comes with a poor quality lock. ). A few of the sailors collapse in their hammocks straight away, exhausted by the day's work. Others, prefer to use the time to relax and enjoy themselves. One group of sailors finds a corner above deck to swap stories, sea shanties, and the odd jig. Others are more happy to gather together in small groups to gossip and talk. With your evening meal, you are also given a ration of grog, watered-down rum.

Alright, since you all are in a pretty confined space and your activities monitored or seen by the rest of the crew, there is a system for exploring the ship or performing other actions, called here "ship actions." During your working shift in the day, you can take one action; after dusk you can take a further action if you wish; and during the night when most of the crew is asleep you can conduct another one or two actions if you wish, but at the risk of being fatigued the next day. These actions reflect the time required to set up or complete an activity, such as gathering enough crew to play a game, scouting out a room to make sure it’s empty, and so on. Ship actions are meant to reflect the available time a PC can carve out from his or her work time without going into too much detail.

Here is a brief summary of actions you can make, I don't want to retype too much text so I can provide further details if you want, and if there are any actions you want your character to attempt that you don't see here let me know.

Daytime Ship Actions
Work Diligently: Gain a +4 bonus on any one check for a job’s daily task
Influence: Make normal checks for a job’s daily task and attempt to influence a single NPC
Sneak: Make normal checks for a job’s daily task and briefly explore one area of the ship (the PC can make a single Perception check or other skill check with no chance of detection)
Shop: Take a –2 penalty on all checks for a job’s daily task and visit the quartermaster’s store (area A9)
Shirk: Take a –2 penalty on all checks for a job’s daily task and take time exploring one area of the ship. The PC can take 10 on a single Perception check or other skill check, but must make a check to avoid being discovered.

Nighttime Ship Actions
Sleep: Go to bed early and sleep through the night (automatically recover from fatigue).
Gamble: Play or gamble on a game of chance or pirate entertainment.
Entertain: Make one Perform check to entertain the crew.
Influence: Attempt to influence a single NPC
Sneak: Take time exploring one area of the ship. The PC can take 20 on a single Perception check or other skill check, but must make a check to avoid being discovered.
Steal: Attempt to open a locked door or locker. The PC must make a check to avoid being discovered.

Late Night Actions
Influence (as above)
Sneak (as above)
Steal (as above)

During the recreational time, Sandara Quinn approaches you conspiratorially, and turns to Kenya. "Here. I've managed to get some of my gear back recently from the quartermaster - she's a superstitious soul, that one - and you had just come aboard, so I managed to grab a couple things I think are yours." She hands Kenya her dagger, and then turns to Arven. "Is this a friend of yours, Kenya? I think this might belong to you," she says as she returns your cutlass.


Male Human (Preacher) Inquisitor 15 | AC 23/17/21 | HP 97/105 | F+15,R+16,W+14 (Stalwart)| +1 v charms, compulsions) (Stalwart)| Init.+12, Perc+18, SM+24 | Judgment 5/day |Determination 5/day |

Atajay collapses in a heap in his hammock the first night on the ship. Unfortunately, there seems to be plenty of time to meet the others, he thinks, just before drifting off to a fitful night's rest.

Wanting to make sure he avoids the whip, if possible, after hauling himself to the crow's nest the next morning, Atajay only gives the nod a nod and a quick hello. If he could get Plugg off his back, he'd be more comfortable socializing a bit.

Perception 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15

Afterwards, he felt pretty good about his performance, and planning on speaking more to the newcomers in the evening during dinner or after.


Female Human Gunslinger 1

Kenya handles the dagger with ease, glad to have it back.

"Thank Besmara for you Sandara. I feel a good bit better about being here now that I'm armed somewhat. So, what can you tell me these lads? They favor any certain games or entertainment?"

Not very good at talking to people, but I think I'll go for Influence with Sandara.


Male Human (Preacher) Inquisitor 15 | AC 23/17/21 | HP 97/105 | F+15,R+16,W+14 (Stalwart)| +1 v charms, compulsions) (Stalwart)| Init.+12, Perc+18, SM+24 | Judgment 5/day |Determination 5/day |

Last post, I meant to type, "...only gives the gnome a nod."


Female Tiefling (Beastbrood) Bard 3; Init. +1; Perception -1, Darkvision 60 ft.; AC 14 (+1 Dex., +1 natural, +2 armour); hp 30; Fort 3, Ref +5, Will +3 (+4 vs. enchantment)

After wolfing down a meal of turtle soup, Quara passes her grog to Rosie Cusswell. "I never touch booze while I'm on board a ship," she says in a stout tone of voice. Then she winks. "But just watch me toss 'em back when we make port, dearie."

The tiefling picks a hammock close to Kenya, and overhears some of the exchange after Sandara appears. She continues to lie back, the very image of a lazy sailor after a long day, but she raises her voice and starts to croon a bawdy sailor's song, hopefully preventing others from overhearing the talk of blades and quartermasters, while simultaneously entertaining the crew.

Perform: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (4) + 8 = 12.


Male Human Savage Barbarian 5
Spoiler:
HP:55(65)/55(65) AC 18/15/14 Saves F+7:R+5:W+3 Rage: 12/12;

Arven downs the grog and settles down to enjoy the meal, talking to the others he jokes, "The invitation to sail was a bit crude and unwelcome, but the food is good, best I've had on a ship at sea ... eh!!! best I've had on a cruise like this." He watches as the crew get down to some gambling, the black and amber dice roll, each places a few coppers down as the clink and tumble of die is heard. The clamour of and noise of the excited sailors as they uncover the dice, cheers and groans in equal measure. Arven, penniless, enters the circle, but unable to place a bet or put money down is left just to watch. "'Tis a good game, tell me, what wins?" he asks one of the sailors, "When I've earned something to bet with, I'll see if the gods look kindly on me luck."

Later, before taking a horizontal position in his hammock, Arven thanks Sandara for finding him a cutlass, then scurries away to hide it in his locker and examine it further Indeed the blue leather grip fits snuggly in his hand, the knock in the blade, a divot created when he attempted to strike the metal lock of a sea chest. The shock reverberated up his arm, and his weapon damaged, when a chip of the metal blade was removed by the adamantine lock. The chest remains, under the sea where he found it, the wreck of 'The Circling Skua' an unexplored trove covered with sand and seaweed on the sea bed of the Shackles, ready for him to find again.

Nighttime - sleep

It might be an idea to put the actions on the campaign tab, so it's easy to reference... just a thought.


Batango eats glumly, thinking only of Tabook as he spoons the turtle soup into his mouth. He tugs idly at his dreadlocks and braids as he feeds, twirling the seaweed entwined in them as he ponders on just how to get back his familiar. Fishguts said he would revisit the proposal after dinner, but Batango doesn't have much hope judging by how the exchange went. He only eats half of his meal and pushes the bowl back with a grim sigh. As the rest of the crew transfers from food to leisure, Batango goes topside and walks the deck for a few minutes, looking out onto the sea in contemplation.

"De sea is a cruel mistress today," he muses. Returning to the holds, he shrugs and decides to visit Fishguts to see what he has to say about the otter.

I'll influence the cook with my nighttime activity.

The Exchange

Batango could you make a Diplomacy check (or Intimidate, or Bluff if you are going to be less than genuine) for your chat with Fishguts?


Diplomacy 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8

Hm. Fishguts and I do not have meshing personalities it would seem.


Enjoying the dinner of turtle soup, I look at my fellow recruits and notice Batango looking miserable, eating barely half of his food before pushing his bowl away. "Excuse me, but you don't seem to be all that interested in eating. Mind if I finish that?" Always the happy-go-lucky type, I barely wait for an acknowledging reply and pull the bowl towards me, my spoon soon making short work of the remainder of the soup. "Good stuff. By the way, I'm A'vandira. Or you can call me Raven. Tell me, what's bothering you?" Suddenly I remember the older man introducing himself as a witch and my eyes light up in recognition of the probable source of his misery. In my mind I can feel Shadow stirring, but I am unsure whether it's because Shadow originated the insight or realized it at the same time. "Oh, stupid me. Of course. That must be it. You said you're a witch. But I see no familiar. That must be what's bothering you. Right? Where is it? Here on the ship? What creature is your familiar? I wanna see it. Can I? Let's go."

The Exchange

Later that Evening..
After mealtime and grog, your time is your own. Atajay and Arven, worn out from the day's strenuous work, quickly fall asleep in their hammocks, dead to the world. You recover from your fatigue for the next day.

Quara Sher lightens the mood with a bawdy sailor's song. The other sailors are appreciative of her mellow voice and singing talents, and Rosie Cusswell thanks her for the extra ration of rum. Well done, keep at the entertainment.

Kenya spends the evening chatting with Sandara Quinn, and by the time everyone else has fallen asleep you have become good friends. You learn that she is indeed a cleric of Besmara, having taken to the sea after her father died recently. She doesn't speak of the effect it has had on her, but you see her trying to hide the tears in her eyes and be strong.

A'vandira keeps company with Batango as he heads to the galley to try his luck with Fishguts Kroop. When you arrive, you see Tabook still hanging up in his cage, making an inquisitive whuffle at your appearance. Kroop is sitting with his feet up, talking to the quartermaster, Cut-Throat Grok, a half-orc. They both seem to be well into their cups. When they see you, Kroop drunkenly flings a tankard your way, slurring "Whaddar ye doing here? Gedouta here! Go!" Laughing, the two turn back to their drinking. Oh dear, better luck next time?

In the morning, you find the routine much the same, but you are assigned different tasks.

Atajay: Today you are assigned mainsail duties, tough work raising and lowering the sail as directed by Plugg. Atajay, please can you make either a Profession (sailor) or a Strength roll. Also could you make a Constitution check so as not to become fatigued from the gruelling work.

Quara: Today you have the honor of cleaning out the bilges, vile and sweaty work. Please can you make DC 12 Strength check to accomplish the task, as well as a DC 10 Constitution check to avoid becoming fatigued by all the work.

Arven: Today is your turn to work the ropes, hauling heavy coils of rope about the ship and tying and untying knots to keep the ship trim. Arven could you please make a DC 10 Profession (sailor) or Strength check, and a Constitution check as well.

Kenya and A'vandira: You are both working today as runners, carrying orders around the ship. Could you both make an Acrobatics check and a Constitution check.

Batango: When you arrive in the galley this mornign you find Kroop too drunk to be sensible, let alone able to do any cooking. Plugg, disgusted, assigns you the task to come up with the evening meal! Alright, Batango, please can you make either a DC 10 Profession (cook) or Intelligence check to make something appetizing and edible.

I'm back, new and improved. As per Deevor's suggestion, I've copied the ship action notes onto the campaign info thread. You can all take one action during the day shift, and if you want you can let me know what your characters are doing in the evenign as well.

------

DM rolls:

Atajay 1d6 ⇒ 6
Arven 1d6 ⇒ 4
Raven 1d6 ⇒ 5
Kenya 1d6 ⇒ 5
Quara 1d6 ⇒ 1
Batango 1d6 ⇒ 2
1d100 ⇒ 48
Raven diplomacy 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4


Female Tiefling (Beastbrood) Bard 3; Init. +1; Perception -1, Darkvision 60 ft.; AC 14 (+1 Dex., +1 natural, +2 armour); hp 30; Fort 3, Ref +5, Will +3 (+4 vs. enchantment)

Strength check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5. Constitution check: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9. Uh-oh. o_o

Quara starts the work in good faith, but soon finds herself overwhelmed. Not by the task, as such, but rather by the stench.

'No, no, I can't,' she admonishes herself while trying to continue the job. But soon enough, her stomach rebels against the vile stench and the feeling of being shut in, and she adds the contents of her stomach to what is already slopping around in the bilges...

If Quara spots any sailor who seems to have a moment of spare time - preferably Rosie Cusswell - she whispers to them while holding her stomach: "Give me a hand? I'm more of a deckhand than a bilge-girl, but I'll reciprocate, my word on it, and may Besmara bite me on the tail if I'm lying. I don't want to go under Plugg's cat!"

Diplomacy check to solicit some help from other crew members: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (6) + 10 = 16.


Male Human Savage Barbarian 5
Spoiler:
HP:55(65)/55(65) AC 18/15/14 Saves F+7:R+5:W+3 Rage: 12/12;

Prof(Sailor) 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17 Constitution 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12

Arven finds hauling the ropes plays to his strengths, he whistles as he hauls the heavy ropes around. As the sun gets higher he goes below to get some shade and makes his way to the lower deck, seeing what might be in the lower hold.

Sneak into lower hold, Perception 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20

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