DM Brainiac's Ruins of Azlant: Gills and Grit! (Inactive)

Game Master Brainiac

"Land, ho!"

A cheer rises up from among the colonists as they scramble to the deck of the Peregrine. After six long weeks at sea, they are eager to catch a glimpse of their new home. What begins as a small dot of green on the horizon steadily begins to grow in size as you get closer, and soon you can make out the tree-covered ridges, rivers, and beaches of the island of Ancorato.

A breeze from the ocean breaks up the warm, humid air a bit. Today, the salty scent is tinged with something else. The smell of opportunity. Of adventure. Of a new beginning in a place far removed from the Inner Sea Region.

It will only be a few hours now before you reach your destination.

Standing on deck with his hands placed on the railing stands a tan man with sea-green hair. Cut short at the sides and longer on top at the front than the back, his hair ruffles at the breeze. Its upright nature keeps his face and neck clear of obstruction, where gills can be seen. His skin is bronzed from years in the sun, and his skin seems perpetually oiled. A studded leather cuirass, bracers, and leggings cover over minimal clothing to allow for full movement. A longsword and shield accompany his gear and pack. Multiple jugs hang from his pack.

For the moment, he stands where the sea spray can touch his face, a smile on his face as he enjoys the adventure.

Gideon stands on the deck of the ship himself, the motion of the Peregrine on the water an old familiar feeling. Ancorato was close now...close enough to make out the features of the landscape. He traced the courses of the rivers with his eyes, mentally drawing a map of the terrain while wishing the rocking of the ship would've let him draw an actual map as they went while the drawing was good. He would have to do his best to commit the image to memory right now for putting in his journal later.

For the umpteenth time since the voyage began, he inventoried the supplies in his backpack, making sure that everything was still in it, where he had last placed it. After correcting the minor shifting that the sea voyage wrought, he pulled it back onto his shoulders and settled back against the railing, watching the island grow nearer and nearer.

Ever since he had gotten word of his acceptance into the expedition, he had dreamed of this...all his exploring of the Inner Sea, his voyages across land, river, and sea, all of it had prepared him for the adventure he was now embarking on. His heart swelled with anxious excitement, such that he couldn't any longer stand to just be still, watching the ship close on the island. He pushed off the rail and went in search of a familiar name he'd seen on the passenger manifest: Perrell Beys, a woman who worked for the Company and someone he had reported to in the past on a couple or three discoveries of historical worth.

After a few minutes of searching, he spotted his colleague and raised his hand to call out a greeting to her. "Perrell! Good afternoon!"

Perrell raises her hand in response. She is a short, thin woman with short-cropped red hair. Her complexion is fair with a smattering of freckles. Though only in her mid-thirties, she carries herself as if she were older. She wears a simple white shirt under her slate-colored vest.

"Technically, it's still morning," she says to Gideon. "For another hour or so at least." She smiles gently.

Weyve scrambles up on deck at the sound of the lookout's call.

"Can we see it?"

He heads to the taffrail and leans out, trying to make out the landmass ahead. It is still just a smudge on the horizon.

He leans back and turns to the others on deck.

"The first thing I want is some fruit. After weeks of salt pork and hard stale bread... well, if I don't see another piece of salt pork for a thousand years it will be too soon."

He turns back to the taffrail again, to continue watching.

"I almost want to jump out and swim the rest of the way. I wouldn't keep up with the ship though."

He looks at the humans working on the ship's deck.

"I suppose it could be worse. I have it better than you lot; I can just jump overboard when I'm feeling cooped up. The rest of you have got the ship and that's all."

He walks towards the poop deck and calls out to Ramona Advanth, who stands by the captain and helmsman.

"Hey Governor! Anything we need to do before we make land?" he shouts.

Not sure of Ramona Advanth has an actual title or not. But "governor" seemed to make sense if she is going to be in charge of the colony.

Governor would be the proper title, though she's not officially laid claim to it yet.

Ramona gives Weyve a slight smile. Her natural tan complexion has deepened from the weeks at sea. She keeps her brown hair cut short and her green eyes show a hint of mirth. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but Captain Markosi and his crew should have everything in order. Just sit tight for now. We'll reach Talmandor's Bounty soon."

Gideon quirks a smile, shaking his head as he walks to the edge of the railing on the deck. "Well...I figured it was close enough. I've been too busy trying to memorize the island to notice the position of the sun. I'm going to try and make a sketch in my journal once we've made landfall...too much unpredictable motion on the sea to get a good drawing done."

Tobar sits on the deck along the edge, with his back to the wall. He is laboriously cleaning and re-waxing the string of his crossbow, a task that he has undertaken every day, which he does in conjunction with checking the lacquered stock for warping.

As the call goes out of land ho, he places the crossbow carefully in his lap and cranes his neck over to watch the slowly-growing green dot on the horizon.

Calvin turns to watch the rest of the crew scrambling and shrugs. "The weather's great for an arrival. I wonder how well along the first colonists are." he muses. "I hope no one's set up a tavern yet!"

With a wry smile, he will walk over to the man caring for his crossbow and sit down next to him after slinging his pack off his back. "Tobar." he says, acknowledging him. He throws his head back onto the rail. "Still waxing your bow? Thought you did that yesterday."

He will rummage through his pack and pull out a cup. "Grog?" he offers, pouring from one of his jugs. He's probably had the 'scurvy' conversation with about everyone (In the party at least) so he doesn't extol the virtues of having a drink. "Aint watered down."

I assume we've all had time over the 6 weeks to at least get passingly familiar with each other.

"Are you kidding?" Weyve looks at Calvin incredulously.

"There had better be a tavern when we get there! I'm tired of rations and I'm tired of grog. Give me some fine wine, or creamy ale, or... something. Even cold water from a fresh stream would be a welcome change!"

Weyve leans on the taffrail watching the island get closer.

"After a month on this ship... any change is good."

Overhearing the debate amongst a few other of the crew on deck about the beverage choices on board, Gideon spoke up. "Y'know, if you were sick of the grog, you could've always used the kitchens below deck as a distillery. Boil some water to get the salt out and kill contaminants, then let the steam condense back into distilled water. Perhaps time consuming, but certainly workable. Did it several times myself. Personally I'd much rather have tepid water than watered-down rum."

Calvin grins. "Well if you're looking for something a bit better for you, I have some of my private stash left. Good quality Applejack."

He tosses back some grog with a smile.

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"Well...I figured it was close enough. I've been too busy trying to memorize the island to notice the position of the sun. I'm going to try and make a sketch in my journal once we've made landfall...too much unpredictable motion on the sea to get a good drawing done."

"I would like to see your sketch once it's complete," Perrell says. "I'm sure it will be a useful reference when the time comes to start mapping the island."

She looks off towards the rapidly growing landmass and smiles. "I can't believe we're finally here. This is an important moment for historical research. Who knows what secrets wait to be discovered?"

"Well, whatever's hidden on this island, you can be sure I'll find it sooner or later!" Lyra Heatherly says as she comes up beside Perrell. The strawberry blonde half-elf is of average height and slender build, with blue-green eyes and a lopsided smile. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail and she wears sturdy but comfortable clothes. A backpack is slung over her shoulder.

Perrell gives Lyra a withering glance. "I hope your skills as a surveyor can measure up to your boasting, Lyra. You talk a big game, but we've yet to see you in action."

"Oh, don't worry your pretty red head," Lyra replies with an icy grin. "I'll be sure to leave no stone unturned."

"I'm sure," Perrell says.

The half-elf gives a mock salute as she turns to Calvin. "I'll take a shot of that appeljack if you're offering!"

"For a peppy girl like you, sure." Calvin pours her a cup from a different jug. "Best Applejack in Andoran. Hope you find me some decent fruit trees so i can make some new stock once this runs out!"

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"Well, the initial reports indicated that there's plenty of mango and papaya trees across the island. I'm sure you can whip up some tasty new brews with those flavors."

Lyra takes a long swig from her cup and grins. "Mmm! I don't care what they say about you in Absalom. You gillmen are alright by me!"

"All the more reason to make sure my drawing is as accurate as I can make it be!" he says in answer to Perrell.

"Let's hope that the first colony has been successful in getting the basics set up for those who would follow. A safe, reliable water supply, some kind of food source, access to construction supplies...Was there any method of communicating with them set up? Or were they completely on their own? Regardless, I suppose we'll be seeing for ourselves very shortly..." he says, staring intently at the island, committing the features of it to memory as much as he is able. Every few moments he shuts his eyes, picturing it in his mind's eye, then opens them to make any minor corrections or updates that are needed to the image he has of the island's features.

"The Bountiful Venture Company hadn't yet set up communication lines with Talmandor's Bounty," Perrell says. "But as you say, we'll have a first-hand look at the colony soon."

Indeed, it's only a short time later that the Peregrine sails into a natural bay with a sandy beach within rowing distance for the ship's boats. As the crew begins to untie one of the smaller boats to lower it into the water, the sailors pass a spyglass among themselves and finally hand it back to the captain. Captain Jacob Markosi peers at the island for a moment before grunting and handing the spyglass to expedition leader Ramona Avandth. "You should see this," he says quietly. Ramona accepts the spyglass and peers toward the shore.

When she lowers the scope, she is clearly distressed but trying to hide her worry. She approaches and motions toward the far side of the deck, away from where most of the other colonists have congregated. "Can I have a word with you?" she asks.

Once you have some privacy, she continues. "We have a problem," Ramona says bluntly. She offers you the spyglass. "Something is wrong. Nobody’s in sight. There’s no smoke from cook fires or the smithy. Some of the buildings look burned out." A look through the glass confirms her observations.

"Sailors can’t keep their mouths shut. Soon all the other colonists are going to hear about this—if they can’t see for themselves already—and things could become…tense."

Calvin will note the buildings that are burned out and the emptiness when he gets a chance to look through the spyglass.

"I don't see any bodies. Or carrion birds. They'd be all over the place if the colonists were killed." He says. He passes the spyglass on.

"Is there somewhere safe we can anchor the ship. At least for long enough we can check out Talamdor's Bounty?" he asks. He rolls his head, loosening his neck muscles and flexing his gills. "I volunteer to be part of the away party."

With a wry smile, he will walk over to the man caring for his crossbow and sit down next to him after slinging his pack off his back. "Tobar." he says, acknowledging him. He throws his head back onto the rail. "Still waxing your bow? Thought you did that yesterday."

He will rummage through his pack and pull out a cup. "Grog?" he offers, pouring from one of his jugs. He's probably had the 'scurvy' conversation with about everyone (In the party at least) so he doesn't extol the virtues of having a drink. "Aint watered down."

I assume we've all had time over the 6 weeks to at least get passingly familiar with each other.

"Have to wax it every day we're at sea," says Tobar as he pushes up the brim of his hat. "If I leave the wax on and just add more, it builds up. If I don't wax it, the salt air will cause the string to become taut and brittle. If I just leave the one coat on and don't rewax it, the salt collects in the wax and crystallizes, and it loses accuracy."

He places the crossbow to one side and says, "Sure, I'll take a cup o' your grog. Y'know, I hear that 'adventuring' in faraway lands like this, there's always folks who think they're just gonna go get gold an' such, never thinking about where they're gonna get food, how they are gonna eat or where they are gonna sleep. I hope the new colony has already got that sorted." He raises the offered mug and downs it slowly. He frowns slightly. "Ech. Everything about being on a ship is worse - the food, the drink, and the work. Thanks, though, it'll be a fair bit better once we make land."

"...then let the steam condense back into distilled water. Perhaps time consuming, but certainly workable. Did it several times myself. Personally I'd much rather have tepid water than watered-down rum."

"Oh, I can make water if I have to. But it won't be cold. And there's something about water from a natural spring... I don't know. I suppose I'm just restless."

Lyra takes a long swig from her cup and grins. "Mmm! I don't care what they say about you in Absalom. You gillmen are alright by me!"

Weyve looks at Lyra with a raised eyebrow. "Glad to hear it. What do they say, anyways?"

==========

After the ship pulls into the bay, Weyve peers over the taffrail, trying to make out the settlement.

"I don't see any bodies. Or carrion birds. They'd be all over the place if the colonists were killed." He says. He passes the spyglass on.

"That probably rules out pirates," Weyve says. "They would leave the bodies where they lay. As would most kinds of attackers, I would think."

"Calvin and I could swim ashore," Weyve says. "If we stay underwater most of the way we could stay out of sight from whatever might be hiding there. We could come ashore..." Weyve looks around at the shoreline. Then he points. "There! By those trees. We would have some cover when we came ashore and might be able to stay out of sight. We can signal you from there."

"I'll wave this red cloth if we see some enemy, and this blue one if you can put the boat ashore. This white one will mean 'wait.' Sound good?"

Earlier

"Oh, you know," Lyra says. "They say you're all shiftless sneaks who like to hoard secrets. But they're all a bunch of racist buffoons, so I wouldn't put much stock in their baseless stereotypes!"

Now

Ramona nods. "The four of you should go together. Gideon and Tobar can take the ship while Calvin and Weyve ride or swim alongside. I'm going to ask Captain Markosi to sail north along the island's coast to as secondary landing site determined by the expedition's surveyors as an alternative spot to found a colony. The site was later designated as an emergency extraction point should any danger befall the first wave of colonists. With luck, we might find some people there who can tell us what's going on.

"After you have a chance to check out Talmandor's Bounty, the ship will rendezvous with you at this secondary location, whereupon I will make a final determination on where the rest of the colonists should disembark."

She nods to the beach, where a deserted dock is visible. "That would probably be the easiest place to moor the boat rather than trying to beach it, but I'll leave the final determination up to you."

Calvin turns to the other three. "Weyve and I can come ashore wherever, so you two should decide where you want to come to land. We'll be alongside you the whole way."

Calvin suddenly pauses, patting his sides. He turns to Ramona. "Do you by chance have a dagger I can borrow? The ole' longsword isn't easy to maneuver in the water."

Or I can retcon me having one and I can deduct the 2gp off my character.

"We have some spare daggers among the supplies below deck that you can borrow. Or I can ask one of our soldiers to lend you a spear if you prefer a larger weapon," Ramona says.

"A spear will serve admirably. Thank you." Calvin agrees.

Will take the spear.

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"If something bad has happened, depending on how long it's been since whatever that 'something' is, there may not be any carrion birds. A tropical environment like this, any corpses would likely be picked clean in a short time." he remarks, once he has had his own turn at the spyglass. "Though the mere fact that there are buildings standing means that the colony was at least established for some length of time, so...perhaps you're right about the lack of scavengers." he added.

"Either way, I'll take you up on the offer of a dagger. Machetes are made for hacking through jungle, not splitting water, and I don't want to take another spear from a soldier that might shortly be needing it." he says, quickly going below deck to find one of the daggers that were mentioned.

Returning a few moments later with dagger in hand, he gives the rest of the group a nod. "I'm good to go." he affirms. "We'll rendezvous with you as soon as we can. Once we are on land, safe sailing, Captain." he says, then turns his attention to Perrell with a reassuring smile. "I'm afraid the sketch will have to wait for now, Perrell. Be assured it's on my 'To-Do' list."

Weyve looks around at the others as they prepare. He cinches up his waterproof bag and secures it around his torso with twine. When everyone seems ready, he says,

"All right, let's go then!"

And jumps into the water of the bay.

Will head to shore but wait until the longboat is close before surfacing.

Tobar stands at the edge of the ship and squints out at the deserted island, his hat shading his eyes from the sun reflected off the ocean. "Also possible that someone took 'em," he says as he raises his crossbow, ready to provide cover fire. "Guess we'll find out if there are any tracks or bodies."

Calvin will set his bag in the longboat, giving Tobar a look and nodding before turning to the railing stepping up onto it, and giving everyone a wink before diving off into the water.

I'll stay alongside the longboat, just in case. Should be able to keep line of sight with Weyve underwater the whole time, so we can keep an eye on each other.

Perrell looks nervously at the deserted colony. "Perhaps there are more pressing things to worry about at the moment..." she says, chewing on her lower lip.

Calvin and Weyve dive into the water as Gideon and Tobar climb down to the ship's boat. The bay’s waters are calm, with only a gentle rocking of the boat. The shore is approximately three hundred feet to the east, where a lonely dock is built off a sandy beach.

You move across the bay, approaching the shore. You're about fifty feet away, over a low sandbar, when two creatures suddenly jet through the murky water at incredible speed! They emerge on either side of the boat--unsightly monsters that resemble goblins from the waist up and greasy octopi from the waist down!

They stab at the two gillmen with their spears, drawing blood!

Spear: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 = 20
Damage: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6
Spear: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (14) + 2 = 16
Damage: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

6 damage to Calvin, 7 damage to Weyve. Everybody can post their actions for this round now.

Weyve coughs as his blood spurts into the water. He presses his hand over the wound.

Swift action to use Healer's way, which is like lay on hands:

lay on hands: 1d6 ⇒ 6

Weyve swims backwards out of the reach of the creature's spear, and maneuvers around the back of the boat.

Standard action to withdraw.

Tobar wastes no time in bringing his crossbow to bear.

Crossbow attack: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7 (+1 if within 30')
...to no avail.

Gideon follows suit, trying to draw a bead on the creatures with his bow as his ally retreats, despite the motion of the ship.

Bow attack: 1d20 + 3 - 2 ⇒ (4) + 3 - 2 = 5

... though his arrow falls far short, as well.

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Calvin stabs with his spear, hoping to finish off the opponent before they finish him!

Attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7
Already doomed to failure. Oh dear.

Gideon and Tobar fire at the strange creatures, but their shots go wide. Calvin's foe dodges his spear strike, while Weyve heals himself and retreats from the vicious monster.

You can hear shouts of concern coming from the passengers on the Peregrine as they see you under attack. But they are too far away to help you, and the creatures continue their assault. The one fighting Calvin tries to stab him again, this time biting with its vicious teeth as well! The other turns to the boat and tries to jab its spear into Tobar's side. Fortunately, none of them manages a good hit this time.

Spear vs. Calvin: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 2 = 6
Bite vs. Calvin: 1d20 - 2 ⇒ (13) - 2 = 11
Spear vs. Tobar: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5

Are they attacking in melee range, or with reach?

While hiding behind the boat, Weyve surveys the battle. He pops his head above the water. "What are they?" he shouts.

The humans are having trouble getting at these creatures while they are in the water! Time to get some backup.

He concentrates and begins chanting a song of the deep.

Begin casting summon monster I.

They are in melee range. They are using normal spears, not longspears.

The creatures can be identified with a Knowledge (dungeoneering) check.

Stuck in melee, Tobar is forced to lash out with his spiked gauntlet.

Spiked gauntlet attack, seated: 1d20 ⇒ 6

Are they both in melee with Tobar? Or just one?

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One is in melee with Tobar and the other with Calvin. The boat is 10 feet by 20 feet, so you would not be threatened by the one attacking Tobar.

I'm sorry to keep asking questions instead of posting, but I just want to clarify...the monsters are still in the water, right? Or did they get out of the water onto the boat?

No worries. Yes, they are still in the water. They have not climbed into the boat.

"Back away! Give us a clear shot!" Gideon says aloud to the two gillmen in the water, while for his own part he tries to identify what exactly these creatures attacking them are.

Know(Dungeoneering): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13

Ready an action to fire at them as soon as he has a shot where allies aren't in melee range.

Readied Shot(if it comes up): 1d20 + 3 - 2 ⇒ (1) + 3 - 2 = 2
Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 3

Geez Louise, are you kidding me? Not a single one of us has rolled a double-digit attack yet...

Calvin takes one more jab at the creature before he considers backing away.

attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (20) + 5 = 25 confirm: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (6) + 5 = 11
damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9
crit damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11

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Gideon holds his bow at the ready, waiting for an opportunity to get a good shot on the creatures. He recognizes them as grindylows, sadistic aberrations that take immense pleasure in others’ misfortunes and the spread of mayhem.

Tobar tries to punch the one attacking him, but it dodges away.

As Weyve begins to summon a creature for assistance, Calvin impales the grindylow attacking him with his spear. It jerks and slumps on the end of the weapon, blood pouring from the deep wound.

The remaining creature snarls as it moves to avenge its companion. Gideon looses his shot, but the arrow streaks harmlessly into the water, burying itself in the sandbar below the ship.

The grindylow stabs at Calvin, but the gillman manages to parry its clumsy strike.

Spear vs. Calvin: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5

Calvin turns to the newcoming monster and stabs at it.

attack: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (18) + 5 = 23
damage: 1d8 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4

-Posted with Wayfinder

Weyve points, and a silvery dolphin appears in the water behind the Grindylow. Finish summoning; the dolphin will appear in a spot that gives it and Calvin a flank.

Weyve surges forward and attempts to distract the Grindylow, but fails.

Moving up into melee, and aiding, fighting defensively.AC is now 16.
aid another, fighting defensively: 1d20 - 2 - 4 ⇒ (9) - 2 - 4 = 3

"A-a-a-a-ackkk!"

The dolphin's eyes flash with a white glow, and it strikes at the Grindylow with its snout.

Activate Smite (from celestial template) against the Gridylow and then attack.

slam +2 flank: 1d20 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 3 + 2 = 12
damage +2 smite: 1d4 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (4) + 1 + 2 = 7

Probably not...

"Grindylows! Not goblinoids, abberations!" he shouts, though for the moment he does nothing but pass that information on; with now three involved in the melee, there is little chance that Gideon will be able to successfully attack. Still, he keeps his shortbow ready, just in case a clear shot reveals itself.

Tobar grunts and lashes out with his spiked fist again at the remaining intruder.

Punch! (seated): 1d20 ⇒ 15
Spiked gauntlet damage: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

"All's I care about is they're tryin' to eat us," he says.