Joll walks over to Sasha Nevah to see if she is injured and, if not, awakens here by shaking her shoulder briskly but not with excessive force. Anyone watching him will probably notice that his pace is a bit quicker than it needs to be.
As he approaches her, though he takes notice of the prisoner.
If Sasha awakens he will ask if she is injured then quickly explain their situation as being stranded on the beach and ask her what she remembers about the night before and if she noticed anything unusual about the crew of the Jenivere. Out of habit, he will give as few details as possible to avoid leading her responses. Once he gets her answers he will tell her about the reefclaws and of the plan to investigate the Jenivere.
The prisoner, a middle aged Garundi man with greying hair and ragged clothing, has his hands manacled behind his back. His dark brown skin stands out in stark contrast to the pale sand it is caked in.
As Joll approaches he sees Sasha's top has been torn and revealing most of her upper back, showing a strange red tattoo, he can also see that one of her fingers is missing, though long since healed over. Sasha awakens looks up at Joll with a quirked brow, and then stretches like a cat yawning hugely - causing a few buttons to strain intriguingly,
"Hmmm? No, no, I'm fine, maybe feel like I had a little too much wine last night, but I'm used to that - Joll right? I just remember the soup, and wondering why the Captain wasn't eating, then the cook collapsed and everything went black... The crew seemed fine to me, grumbling a bit about some course change, but I've never been aboard a ship where the crew didn't grumble. What in the blazes happened?"
Alexite realized that not everyone was awake yet. The tide was coming in quickly but he decided to wake the rest of the group before heading over to the ship. Who knows, they may know something important.
He walked over to what appeared to be a native man , at least more native than all the people from up north. He knelt down and gently shook the man's shoulder, "Hey, it's time you woke up. Take it easy but start moving around. How do you feel?"
"We were drugged and dumped on this beach. It must be an island since we were not scheduled to make landfall at Eleder for several days. All of our gear is present but none of the crew are. The prisoner from the brig is here, also. Two reefclaws, lobster-scorpion things, attacked us but we killed them. That reminds me Joll says. He examines the head of his morning star and flicks off some of the creature's exoskeleton and brains. It does not hurt to let a pretty lady know that you killed one yourself while she was helpless on the beach.
The ship itself is stranded on some rocks not too far from here and has a huge hole in the side of it. We are going to explore it. He extends his hand to help Sasha to her feet.
Jack was well ahead of everyone else, and didn't seem to think that rousing the other passengers was a job suited to his particular talents. Besides, he had already awoken Ishirou and Quinta. He continued along the rapidly disappearing path to the Jenivere, though he did pause occasionally to check for any followers. He would stop upon arriving and wait for others before actually exploring the ship, however.
In response to Joll, Dragolan adds, "Oil of taggart, I believe, though that blasted cook used too much of it. Is anyone else wounded?" He begins to pass out items from the pile. "Bide a moment, Joll. As soon as we're all armed I'll follow." After everyone is equipped, the Chelaxian makes his way to the foundering ship.
The prisoner awakens and stares up at Alexite with watery eyes, before struggling to his knees and taking in the scene before him,
"I feel a well, but humbled again my friend, I was just asking myself, Jask Derindi, how can things become any worse for you? Nethys protect and preserve me, but I am a fool. An innocent fool it should be said, though I have no proof for you but my word. I am a scribe by trade and a cleric by calling, but I fear I can aide you with neither skillset as I currently am," he jingles his manacles pointedly.
"If were free and had my holy symbol I believe I could be a great help in getting us off this cannibal infested trap of an Island. Though perhaps even being stranded on Smuggler's Shiv is preferable to my eventual fate in Sargava. Free me and my aide is yours, I fear the Captain must still have the keys, and my holy symbol though, or else they might remain on the Jenivere."
Sasha takes Joll's hand with a grin and allows him to pull her to her feet tossing her red hair and adjusting her clothing with no thought for modesty,
"Well this should be fun, desert island hey? Think fo the fun we could have, and I thought this journey was going to be dull! Lets see let me pick up my girls and I'll come along with you." So saying she heads for the equpment piles and after some searching retrieves a finely crafted rapier and kukri, which she draws and whips through the air laughing in delight. When she is satisfied she sheathes her blades and pulls free a chainshirt shaking the sand off it and struggling into it with a great deal of jumping.
"Smuggler's Shiv, you say? You know where we are? What can you tell us of this place?"
Jask glances across at Dragolan and nods his head in greeting,
"Its not on most maps, but its rightly feared by most sailors with a knife edged coastline famed for wrecking ships. I know the sailors guarding me were nervous of some course change, presumably because they knew we were headed into these dangerous waters. I cannot imagine what the Captain was thinking, there is no way this can have been a better course for Eleder. Its supposed to be haunted by the ghosts of all those poor souls wrecked upon its shores, and several colonization attempts have failed resoundingly," Jask closes his eyes pursing his lips thoughtfully and continues,
"There is a lighthouse upon the southwest shore of the island, built in the early days of a Chelish colonization attempt, but left unfinished amidst rumors of cannibals, haunts, and curses. And some say that a ship from the failed Chelish attempt to wrest back control of Sargava, some seventy years ago, wrecked here and her crew degenerated into a canabalistic society who scour the islands beaches for unsuspecting victims - like ourselves. If I had my hands free I believe I could draw you a fairly sericable map mof the island, though only of its coastline."
Lydran dips the edge of one sleeve into the surf and regards the last two survivors who have not yet awoken. Gerick's quips might not be what we need just now... He calls out to the prisoner as he makes his way across the beach towards the half-elf woman. "I think under the circumstances, trading you your freedom for your aid is a reasonable proposal, but you do understand that manacles don't exactly inspire trust. Might you enlighten us on how you came to be hear, like this? I couldn't care less who you've wronged, but it would certainly make it easier to work together if I'm not keeping on eye on my back or on my coin purse." He stoops down over Aerys and squeezes the edge of his sleeve, dripping seawater onto her forehead.
"It's Aerys, yes? We've been shipwrecked - poisoned at our last dinner, it would seem. We need to get everyone together and determine our next course of action. The beach isn't safe - we've already been attacked here once. Someone has already retrieved a number of supplies, but some of us are going to search the Jenivere for anything else we might use before it sinks completely. Are you alright? Can you stand?"
Jask laughs bitterly again,
"I cannot begrudge you your doubts Master Elf. I used to have a fairly senior position in the Sargavan government, some ten years ago, but when I discovered superior making illiceit deals with the Pirate Captains of the Shackles to steal money from the people I attempted to confront him instead of reporting him immediately as I should have. He betrayed me, and framed me for his crimes, and so facing imprisonment at best I fled to Corentyn where I have spent a decade as a humble scribe, thinking myself safe. As you can see I was wrong, and a Sargavan agent captured me. I am a fool, but no criminal."
The half elf scowls up at Lydran and without responding pushes herself to her feet and stalks over to the pile of equipment. Searching through it she recovers a tricorner hat, a great longbow and a quiver of arrows, a set of rather fine studded leather armor, a small wooden case, and a large pile of papers bound together by leather cord. Then her searches become slightly more frantic and she can be heard cursing under her breath, before snapping,
"Did nobody think to bring the bloody alcohol, what are we supposed to drink - water! Ha!" She kicks at the sand in frustration and slumps down onto the beach looking miserable.
"What an excessively charming place to visit. It sounds as though the best way off of here is going to be that lighthouse; we can set a fire in it to let a passing ship know we're here." As he talks, the rotund Chelaxian gathers up a somewhat larger-than-usual suit of studded leather armor, a shield, and a heavy mace. "In case we encounter more of those eurypterids, I should like to have my crab-cracker to hand! Come then!"
Lydran retrieves most of his gear, but leaves a few items, such as his bedroll, his waterskin, and a few ration, on the beach - the won't be needed in the Jenivere. He loads a bolt into his crossbow and falls into line with the others. "I'm afraid my current suite of spells was prepared with life on board a ship in mind, but I'll do what I can."
Alexite, taken back at first, was much relieved when his flesh started knitting itself together. He felt giddy, like a boy with a new toy.
Before Quinta left he added, "Wait, what are you? Some sort of singing wizard who also heals?"
He flexed his muscles making sure the wounds had been truly healed, "Is the singing magical? And I'd never heard that; what sort of singing is it?"
He put away his falchion and extended his hand, "Where are my manners? I don't think we've met nor have I seen you on the ship before. I am Alexite Krumpt; thank you for your services."
The pretty girl blinks at the sudden torrent of questions, and maintains her distance. She gives the clear impression that in the ancient question of fight or flight, she is more inclined towards 'flight'. Nevertheless, she replies in a polite, melodious voice:
"I am a - Bard. I am a Bard. We have some minor healing magic, Bards, as well as other magics, such as the battle-hymns. The one I sang is... is an imperfect translation of an old Azlant song I learned in Cheliax."
Quinta gives Alexite a brief, but very formal bow. "Quinta Wist..." She coughs. "Quinta Wist will do. Glad to be of help; we would all seem to be in the same boat."
For a moment, Quinta's lips twist in an odd mixture of pout and smile. "Except for the lack of a boat, that is. Or a ship, to be technical."
I have a helmethe says to Quinta. Do you mean to use it as a bucket to wake the others with sea water?
"Yes," Quinta says, her eyes shying away from Joll's. "That was my thought. A bucket."
"What an excessively charming place to visit. It sounds as though the best way off of here is going to be that lighthouse; we can set a fire in it to let a passing ship know we're here."
"Might it not also alert these oft-mentioned cannibals to our presence?" Quinta asks in a bleak tone of voice.
Shaking her head, she walks over to Aerys. "Lady, I know you not, but I should like to suggest you be grateful if we find potable water and do not have to resort to drinking each other's blood."
Turning to Lydran, she adds: "If those things are yours, they are best brought along, sir. No telling who or what might take them if we leave them unguarded."
As she starts to walk after Jack Sand, Quinta calls over her shoulder: "Is it possible the Captain beached us here on purpose for some reason?"
Perception
Joll does his best to take in what everyone is saying but it is difficult given the distances, sound of the wind and the fact that most everyone talks at once.
To Sasha Such enthusiasm is heartening. Perhaps we will find the ship's cook inside the Jenivere, hard at work on fixing a meal for us. He tries to be amusingly sarcastic.
To everyone in general:We all seem up and capable of movement. It would be best to get to the Jenivere while we can.
The prisoner awakens and stares up at Alexite with watery eyes, before struggling to his knees and taking in the scene before him,
"I feel a well, but humbled again my friend, I was just asking myself, Jask Derindi, how can things become any worse for you? Nethys protect and preserve me, but I am a fool. An innocent fool it should be said, though I have no proof for you but my word. I am a scribe by trade and a cleric by calling, but I fear I can aide you with neither skillset as I currently am," he jingles his manacles pointedly.
"If were free and had my holy symbol I believe I could be a great help in getting us off this cannibal infested trap of an Island. Though perhaps even being stranded on Smuggler's Shiv is preferable to my eventual fate in Sargava. Free me and my aide is yours, I fear the Captain must still have the keys, and my holy symbol though, or else they might remain on the Jenivere."
Alexite grunted, struggling with what decision to make. The ranger wasn't one to dwell too long on decisions, especially when the window of opportunity was closing. Relying on his gut feeling, he quickly made up his mind, "I do believe you. In any case, I am not here to determine whether you are guilty or not. What's more, your alleged offense did not demand you die as you surely will if you remain manacled like this."
He looked at the man's hands, "I don't have the skill to break those but you will come with me and we will see if anyone is capable of it. But Jask, know that you come with a reputation and everyone, inclding myself, will be watching you closely so you had better be in your best behavior. We'll breach the subject of what to do with you once we reach Eleder but there is much time between then and now.
Understood?"
To everyone in general:We all seem up and capable of movement. It would be best to get to the Jenivere while we can.
"I agree. Let's get going. We can make further plans once we are back but that ship or path to it may not be there for much longer. For what it's worth, I also think the lighthouse may be our best bet for signaling a ship to come by."
Dragolan smiles at Quinta as the ragtag band makes its way to the Jenivere. "Potable water is not an issue, milady. I have a spell that will call salt from seawater; what's left won't be cold, I fear, but it will be drinkable."
Aerys shoots Quinta a dark look and mutters something under her breath,
Jask takes a breath, appearing slightly irked, "I understand why you might feel that way, and I might well in your place, but as an innocent man it is unpleasant to hear nevertheless."
The manacles appear very sturdy, someone might be able to break them, but probably only with wild swings of a hammer or similar tool that would endanger Jask.
Sasha glances over at Gerik and asks,
"Is nobody going to wake the gnome? We could use him as lobster bait I suppose, but I think he's pretty funny."
Jack heading off slightly ahead of the others crests a large rock, taking care upon its slippery lichen covered surface and sees a corpse cruelly twisted and jammed between two out croppings of rock. Tiny black crabs scuttle across its flesh feasting, though they do not seem the least bit inclined to bother Jack, nor would they be any real threat. From what is left of its attire the body appears to have been a crewman of the Jenivere. Reaching down to it will involve some precarious scrambling across sea slicked stone.
Lydran prods the unconcious gnome with the toe of his boot. "Gerrick. Wake up. Ship wreck. We're going to explore the wreckage."
"Jask, may I see those manacles for a moment?" Assuming Jask's compliance, Lydran inspects the chained man's shackles, first around the wrists, trying to gauge how tight the fit is, and then the chain, wondering if any of his spells might facilitate the removal of this contraption.
Sasha snorts with laughter as Lydran's cursory waking of the gnome, and Gerik awaken spluttering and leaping up from the sand in horror. The fussy gnome swiftly casts a spell summoning forth his tiny flock of bubbles to scour the sand from his clothing and is in short order as prisine as ever - looking more suited for a day at court than a deserted island.
"I see, so we are doomed then, by all means go and search the ship I'll just wait here to be eaten shall I? How marvelous, and where did the new girl come from? Is she the first mate's mysterious stow away lover perhaps? Well dear? I hope you managed to pay your way with kisses, I'd hate to think your legs missed one another too much during the voyage," the gone says snippily, obviously a little afronted at being the last person awakened.
"Your words are a bitter dish, Gerrick," Lydran huffs. "Sarcasm will do little to keep us alive, so perhaps you ought be a bit more proactive?" He looks around at the other survivors; at the petulant gnome, at the man in shackles, and at the others giving him suspicious glares. Shaking his head, he stands and turns to the crowd.
"Have any of you ever seen a squadron of Hellknights in action? They keep the peace in Egorian, so I've had chance to witness them on occasion. I've seen a group of them put down more than a few unruly mobs. They were outnumbered, but their success was still little surprise given their superior arms and armor. I've also seen them subdue drunken watchmen in mail, men who new how to fight. I've seen them stifle small rebel uprisings - men and weapon trained to fight and empowered by righteous indignation. Every time, the Hellknights won out of greater numbers? Do you know why? Discipline and cooperation. Five of us working together can accomplish thrice as much as ten of us at odds. And ten of us working together? Well, maybe that's asking too much, but it's our surest way to get through this alive. Hate each other all you want, but stay away from one another's throats until this ordeal is past. We're about to step into a wrecked ship that could be swallowed by the ocean at a moment's notice, and we aren't like to come back out if we're all trying to decide who's throat we'd like to open, or who wants to open ours."
Sasha nods enthusiastically, snapping off a jaunty salute while grinning,
"Makes sense to me, I might not be a Hell Knight, but I can hunt and I can fight," she winks at Joll, "plus I can be a hell of a lot of fun at night."
Aerys merely grunts, and Ishirou does not deign to look up from polishing his blade. Gerik tuts distainfully and makes to walk away, before pausing and adding,
"Sarcasm its its own reward Master Entelios, it may be the lowest form of wit, but it is among the best - a sentence which neatly encompasses my own good self with but a few tweaks. I may be the lowest of our sorry lot, but... In anycase, I suppose I can provide my usual spiritual nourishment, or medical aide if its really necessary - just try not to make me touch anything too gross."
Jask merely shrugs and jingles his manacles pointedly.
Lydran rolls his eyes at Gerrick's comment, but nevertheless nods in appreciation for the gnome's cooperation. "We'll see what can be done to keep your hands clean. And Jask makes a fair point with his rattling. Let's see if this helps. Get ready, Jask, those things are about to get slippery." Lydran concentrates on the manacles as he mutters a brief incantation. Swirling his hand through the air, a large dollop of grease begins to form over his palm. Finishing his spell, he flips his wrists and the stuff flies towards the manacles, seeking them out and wrapping itself around every jangling inch of them.
Jask's eyes widen and he nods appreciatively to Lydran before beginning to strain against his bonds. After a few seconds he manages to hook a foot under the manacles and with a great deal of straining the manacles pop off and fall to the sand.
"Most excellent! You have my most profound gratitude my friend." Jask exclaims happily massaging his hands happily. "I suppose I could probably whittle a holy symbol if given time enough... Then I can really be of some use, but I shall do what I can," he pauses and looks around at the group,
[b]"You have already set me free, but there is something more I would ask of you. You see there is a chance I might be able to prove my innocence and truly see justice done. One of the Shackles pirates my former superior was cheating with, a man called Avret Kinkarian, Captain of the Brine Demon, was purported to have wrecked here on Smuggler's Shiv. If he managed to survive somehow, or even reach the island, then its possible there could be more evidence. I know its a long shot, but if you could return my life to me I would be eternally grateful."
"I see, so we are doomed then, by all means go and search the ship I'll just wait here to be eaten shall I? How marvelous, and where did the new girl come from? Is she the first mate's mysterious stow away lover perhaps? Well dear? I hope you managed to pay your way with kisses, I'd hate to think your legs missed one another too much during the voyage," the gone says snippily, obviously a little afronted at being the last person awakened.
Quinta draws herself up to her full height, her pout turning into a scowl - and then just shakes her head in annoyance.
"You have a foul mouth on you, sir," she says, her voice calmer than it could have been. "I shall ask you to exercize it against the ears of others - or their backsides, whichever suits your preference."
Quinta gives the manacles a closer look and Tsks quietly.
"I wish I could help you with these, friend," she says, "but I did not bring any tools for such work on the ship. Later, perhaps...?" She shrugs.
The gnome blows a raspberry and stage whispers, "That's not a no."
Very well put, Lydran.
Joll responds to Sasha with a welcoming smile and bow of his head. He pulls off his outer shirt before putting on the last of his armor and offers it to her. Here you are, madam. It will not fit well but you could probably tie it to be more snug. If nothing else, it will keep the sun from burning your skin.
Once everyone seems ready he says to the assembled group. Let's make haste before the sea takes the Jenivere down.
Sasha accepts Lydran's shirt with a knowing smile, shrugs it on and ties a knot in it at the waste.
Accompanied by Sasha and Jask you head out onto the slippery lichen covered rock and catch up to Jack. Jack is looking down at the body of one of the Jenivere's crew wedged grotesquely between two jagged rock spires, it will require some tricky climbing to get down to it, and there does not appear to be anything but a few tattered rags left upon the body. Tiny black crabs scuttle over the unfortunate crewman nibbling away contentedly and frequently being dislodged by the pounding waves.
As you get nearer to the Jenivere you can see a rope tied to its side, and catch occasional flashes of the prow of a small rowing boat yanking the rope taut as the waves toss it to and fro. Its quickly apparent that the rowing boat is in pieces now, prevented from sinkinbg fully only by its tether.
It looks like it will, be possible to drop down to the deck from a nearby rocky ledge with little danger, provided you move cautiously enough.
It looks like it will, be possible to drop down to the deck from a nearby rocky ledge with little danger, provided you move cautiously enough.
Climbing down slippery rock was not the same as climbing down trees back in his Estate but it was similar enough. Alexite placed his longbow next to his falchion on his back, making sure they would stay there on his way down.
He flexed his frame and winced slightly, he still felt the effects of the poison sting but felt good enough to go down. He turned to the others, "Keep your eyes open and yell if you see something as my back will be turned to the ship. I'll also be concentrating on the rocks...
He dried his sweaty hands on his pants and started looking for footholds on his way down.
"A moment, Alexite! You may wish to take this with you - if nothing else it will make getting back up easier." Lydran rummages through his pack for a moment and produces a coil of silk rope.
If Alexite makes it down without incident Joll will follow next.
Jack shakes his head as he takes a long look at the corpse below. "Best be careful, lest you join him in that pose.", he quietly murmurs as Alexite makes his way down the precarious rock formation.
"I say we leave him. We don't have time for last rites and sentimental farewells. His flesh belongs to the sea now, and his soul has long since gone. If you break your leg, you'll only slow us all down."
He purses his lips and begins carefully making his way over to the Jenivere. "We should get in and get out. I don't like the look of the tide, and this thing could fall apart at any minute." What Jack seemed to lack in social courtesy, he made up for in ruthless determination. He took a moment to decide how exactly to approach the task of gaining entry to the ship.
Moving with a grace that belies his girth, Dragolan makes his way along the ledge and drops to the deck. "Let's see what's to be seen."
The only way to access the Jenivere from land is by dropping down onto the foredeck. Its easy enough to secure Lydran's silk rope. There are two entrances upon deck, the Captain's Cabin, located in the forecastle and another door towards the rear of the ship that leads to the hold, and various passenger cabins.
At a closer glance its edident that the Jenivere's entire lower deck is missing, as well as the gaping hole in her bow.
"Does anyone hear that door?" Lydran asks as he follows the others down the rope. "Would the wind moving through the Jenivere be strong enough to open and close a door repeatedly?"
"I hear it," Quinta replies -- and she unfastens her whip from her belt, coiling it loosely about her shoulder so it is ready for use. "Just in case," she says, shrugging.
Next, the girl raises her voice in a brief song:
"Dance, to salute the morning's glory!
Dance, to delight the eye that would see!
Dance, to dispel the shadows dreary!
Dance, so we may see where to put our feet!"
Flickering lights spin themselves out of thin air, tumbling and bouncing around Quinta as she cautiously approaches the door to the hold.
"I don't hear anything. Still, best to be careful, hm?" Mace in hand, Dragolan heads for the hold to start with. "Shall we split up? This is not the most secure of places, so I daresay some haste is called for."
Alexite drew his blade upon hearing the sound. "It's coming from beneath, probably the hold."
"Shall we split up? This is not the most secure of places, so I daresay some haste is called for."
"That may not be a bad idea but let's wait a few minutes. With the looks of things, there may not be much to investigate; it seems that half the ship is gone.
He carefully walked about trying to discern what could be making that noise. "I say we go an investigate the noise and then search the rest of the ship. Whatever it is, it's alive so prepare for possible combat."
Perception
I hear the door but I can't tell if it is slamming to the wind or if something is doing it intentionally. Probably it's the latter.
Dragolan grins at the discussion. "We are in a precariously balanced vessel whose lower decks are open to the ocean; though I have not previously been on such a ship, I believe that noises are to be expected."
Approaching the doorway to the hold you can see the familiar corridor upon which your own narrow cabins were located with the ladder like stair down to the lower deck located at the far end. The crashing is coming from the deck below.
Jack carefully drops down onto the deck and notices the sound of the door slamming, but doesn't feel the need to comment on it beyond what the others have said. He slings the shortbow off his shoulder and into his hand as he hangs back behind the others.
Quinta joins whichever group enters the hold, her dancing lights leading the way - but she herself staying in the rearguard, one hand on her whip.
Sasha leaps down to the deck, while a nervous looking Jask asks, clambers down with great care. Jask hangs back on deck as you head inside, presumably because he is unarmored, while Sasha joins the rearguard.
As you moves down the stairs, Alexite at the fore, the slamming sounds become louder and the first of you to move down the stairs seems two of the lobster scorpions you fought previously, but much larger, the size of great danes instead of spaniels. One beats relentlessly at the door, while the other stares up at you clacking its claws menacingly.
The stairs are too steep for anyone above to see the creatures, only Alexite can see the creatures in the light provided by Quinta's dancing lights.
Sasha moves down onto the stairs peering over Alexite's shoulder before moving back up and saying,
"Two more of those big sea bugs, but bigger, looks like they are trying to break into that room at the back of the hold."
Sasha Nevah - gone.
Lydran Entelios - is up!
Joll Beliver
Quinta Wist
Alexite Krupt
Dragolan Canario
Jack Sand
Sea Scorpions
"Tsk. Alright. See if you can bait them into closing with us - I'll summon a hound on the other side, and we can flank them." Lydran moves down the stairs and begins a longer chant as dim flames begin to encircle his feet in an intricate pattern.
Damn!, Alexite muttered still reeling from the poison sting of the smaller lobstrosities.
He started to grab his bow, "Let's not close with them unless necessary. These look like they have bigger stings."
He turned to Quinta, "Girl, it's kind of dark for a good shot. Can you send your lights over there?"