Salt spray leaps up on the sides of the ship, providing a refreshing mist under the still-hot setting sun and clear skies. The Jenivere is right on schedule to arrive in Sargava, having miraculously encountered no resistance or unmanageable weather in over one hundred days of travel since it left Magnimar. The crew swarms the ship, managing ropes and sails, cleaning the deck, securing and re-securing cargo.
Captain Alizandru Covack has taken on several passengers, all of them at least familiar with each other’s names unless they have worked especially hard to hide it.
Aerys Mavato is a severe half-elf woman who boarded in Port Peril, where she immediately got into a fight with one of sailors and left him with a sizable black eye. Since then she’s spent most of her time in her bunk, emerging only to arrive late to meals and leave them early.
Gelik Aberwhinge, a sharply dressed gnome man from Magnimar with inky fingers, spends most of his time writing in the ship’s common areas. However, he often interrupts his chronicling to share long-winded stories or make sarcastic quips to whoever will listen.
Ieana is a bookish Varisian woman who mostly keeps to herself. She says she’s traveling to Sargava to investigate ancient ruins, but rumors among the crew suggest that she’s secretly the Jenivere’s owner, a Chelish agent, or even Captain Kovack’s secret lover. She has grown more reclusive and involved in her studies as the ship approaches Eleder.
Ishirou is a scruffy Tien man who boarded in Bloodcove. He is quiet, and aloof but polite. He keeps his conversations with the other passengers short, and spends a lot of time stonily frowning at the ocean at the ship’s bow.
Jask Derindi was brought aboard at Corentyn in chains. This soft-eyed, middle aged human man resides in the brig. The captain has insisted that he be left alone.
Sasha Nevah is a young, red-haired human woman who boarded in Ilizmagorti. Initially sullen and bad-tempered, she has grown boisterous and optimistic since leaving that port, talking with the crew and other passengers and enjoying the fair weather. No one has yet asked her about her missing left pinky finger.
The pre-dinner bell has rung, and several passengers have gathered below deck to await their food. At the long dinner bench, Sasha and Gelik idly chat together, with Sasha occasionally laughing at Gelik’s jokes. Ishirou maintains his usual silence, sitting politely and looking thoughtfully down at his napkin. Aerys Mavato unhappily stands to the side against a wall, arms crossed, her eyes red and her head occasionally drooping with sleepy nods. Indistinct sounds of an argument can be heard overhead, before the first mate Alton Devers stomps down into the lower deck. Although he’s usually very friendly with the passengers, he only spares them a forced half-smile and a nod before heading lower down into the ship. The captain comes down after him, and seeing the passengers gathered, his angry face turns placating. “Good evening, folks. Dinner will be ready in just a moment. I’m sorry for the delay, but I’ll provide an extra alcohol ration tonight, on me, to make up for it. Now, if you’ll kindly excuse me, I must have a word with my first mate.” With that, the Chelish captain scratches his beard and heads down after the first mate.
Kayle boarded the ship a day before Jask at the port in Corentyn. The pale woman, dressed in a sensible black skirt and white blouse, was obviously excited for the trip. She brought with her stacks of books on Mwangi history and eagerly chatted with anyone who asked about her desire to see and explore several ancient ruins. As a student at the Arcanamirium in Absalom, she was hoping to write her thesis for becoming a Maven on ancient Mwangi arcana.
As the ship headed further south, her conservative attire changed to match the hot locale, making her fit look indistinguishable from any other sailor despite her inability to identify the starboard side.
When the dinner bell was rung, she gathered with the others and drifted naturally over to where Sasha and Gelik where. She leaned in close to them, talking in a conspiratorial voice with a mischievous glint in her eye. "Did you see the Captain? What do you think they were arguing about so vehemently?"
Lionel had been sat squarely at the middle of the table, loudly slurping his soup but otherwise keeping quiet. As the first mate came below deck after what had sounded like a heated argument, Lionels eyes followed him as he passed through the room, eyes squinting at the man suspiciously.
Kayles tone of voice and mischievous expression caught his attention, and he unceremoniously dropped his spoon, causing a rather impressive splash of soup to escape his bowl.
"This be no game girl." He said, looking at his soup stained hand before wiping it on his shirt and turning his head to look at her. "First Mates the captains right hand man. Its his job to question the captains decision, be a voice of second opinion. But once that different opinion has been voiced, the captains decision be final." He turned in his seat, resting a bony elbow on the table. "A First Mate who don't respect his captains decision, keeps arguin'. That be dangerous." He looked around at the other nearby patrons, satisfied he had made his point without actually uttering the word ´mutiny´.
Picking up his spoon, he resumed his loud slurping.
Silmarye ("You can call me Sil." he tells you once he gets to know you) is a tall elf with long straight brown hair and tattoos up his arms and face. He is sprightly and kind and spends many hours with Kayle discussing the wonders of the Mwangi Expanse. "Ah, yes, I admit that I only know the basics of Mwangi history. But, oh, the trees! The wilderness! I have long read in the books of the varieties of plantlife in the Mwangi and I yearn to experience it myself!"
Silmarye boarded in Magnimar with a small creature bouncing along behind him. At first it appeared to be nothing more than an animated twig but Sil explains, "Oh no! Indeed, this is Sticky. Some day he will grow into a strong and powerful treant, but for now he is but a sapling. He awoke one day when I was in the woods-or perhaps I awoke him without knowing-and we have been pals ever since."
---
At the meal Sil politely pretends not to notice the argument as he continues his conversation with Ieana. "So what sort of ruins are you searching for? Which civilizations left their mark behind in the Mwangi? Surely the jungle has overtaken much that could have been found once upon a time."
Gathien looks up at the signs of argument, I hope this isn't about me and the decision to let me escape the Shackles... ever since that last set of messages, I can't help but feeling like the noose around my neck may be tightening...
When the captain enters, the halfling releases a breath that he hadn't quite realized that he was holding, and then winces at the harsh tone that the strange man used to one of his fellow expeditionners. He stands on the bench to ensure he can look the man in the eye and says, in a friendly tone, "While I see your point, I don't think Kayle was implying it was a game. I know we're all frustrated about being cooped up, but let's not assume the worst -- either about the conversation or each other?"
He cocks his head as he finishes, and then smiles and sits down again, turning his attention back to the gnome, waiting for another joke.
Tugging on a lock of hair, she looks at the brutal tiefling eyes widening slightly. "Gathein's right, but..I hadn't thought of that. You don't think that's a possibility do you? I don't want to get involved in anything like that.."
Her hands tighten around the spellbook hanging from her side. "We could just...sit something like that out, right? I mean, we already paid for transportation.."
Lionel flashed an annoyed half sneer, half smile at Gathien, waiting for the halfling to finish speaking. He unconsciously clutched the edge of his seat, claws digging into wood which groaned and splintered in his grasp.
"I saw you get on in the Shackles, same as me. I wasn't quite sure before, but I am now." Noticing his grip on the chair, he released it, shaking off the splinters of wood lodged in his scaly hand. "You aint from the Shackles, or you would know better than to be so naive. You get soft in the Shackles, you get dead, so you will excuse me if I trust my gut and assume the worst about anyone and anything." He pushed his bowl away, his appetite either sated or dispelled by Gathiens idealism. "You gotta prove yourself worthy of good will, and from where I'm sittin', aint noone on this ship got that from me. Not yet."
Kayle timid question catching his attention, he turned to look at her. His eyes drifted up and down her body appraisingly, before meeting her gaze. "That all depends on the crew ma'am." His brow furrowed. "Me, id probably get beaten to a pulp if I looked at them the wrong way, but a woman...Well, lets just hope the crew is nothing like what you find in the Shackles."
He got up and made for the door to the deck above. Rufus always did the talkin'. Cmon Lionel, you gotta start talkin' like he did, or you're gonna land yourself in more trouble than what's good for you." He thought to himself. Stopping at the door, he turned to look back at Gathien, forcing a smile onto his lips, although the hard stare in his eyes betrayed his reluctance. "As for bein' cooped up, you can speak for yourself little man." His face softened into a genuine smile at what he said next. "Wait till we get on land, then you'll see what cooped up really is."
Gathien's smile fades and his voice drops to an icy level and says, without standing, "Quite right, I'm not. I was in the Shackles to hunt the sort of people that you seem to be idealizing... and while I may have left in a hurry, I'm more than a wee bit harder to kill than that... as a few of those sorts of people learned the hard way."
He pauses for a moment and then his voice warms as he says, "I'm a halfling born of Chelish parents... and if they were able to still been able to have hope and faith in their fellow man, despite seeing and experiencing first hand the worst bits of slavery, then I respect them for being strong -- and it is that strength that I aspire to." ...even if it's the only thing I respect about them...
He sighs as the large man leaves, ...another one that confuses harshness with strength.... and another one that I'll have to prove myself to, no doubt...
He shakes his head for a moment and then smiles at his dining companions, "Apologies about the unpleasantness. And in answer to your question, I will say that the brute is right -- how things might turn out depends very much on who's in charge -- both in terms of what their ideals and goals are, and whether they have the will and presence to enforce them."
The captain's interruption brings a rare moment of silence between Gelik and Sasha, but it doesn't last long when Kayle provokes them.
"I don't know," says Sasha in a sort of loud stage-whisper, "but have you noticed how he's so polite with us passengers, but a real tyrant with his crew?"
"I don't know about a tyrant," Gelik chimes in, "but he certainly can change his mood quicker than a Chelish prostitute can--"
"I think he's hiding something!" Sasha interrupts with a grin. "I noticed him talking to that Ieana woman a couple days ago. She's been hiding in her room forever, but they were whispering together about something. Like lovers," she suggests playfully.
As Sil looks around for Ieana, it appears that she has once again skipped dinner. Shy throughout the trip, for the past few weeks she has been confining herself to her room even more than the reclusive Aerys Mavato.
The conversation is cut off by the splash of Lionel's dropped spoon, though. The other passengers remain awkwardly silent as Lionel, Gathien, and Kayle speak, although Aerys lets out a quiet growl from the corner where she stands when Lionel ogles Kayle. The room breathes again when the tiefling leaves. Aerys comes and takes his place on the bench, reaching for a bottle of ale and taking a swig before removing her tricorn hat. "Lotta scum like that in the Shackles. Hey," she says turning to Kayle. Her breath smells of stronger alcohol than the ale in her hand. "He gives you anymore trouble, you come knock on my door. I'll sort him out." She then swings her head around toward Gathien. "I don't think we got anything too bad to worry about. Cap'n and First Mate fighting ain't good, but the rest of the crew aint' too uneasy, 'sfar as I can tell. Good women and good men these sailors." With that, the attractive but dour half-elven woman turns her attention fully to the bottle in her hand. Ishirou looks over at her briefly, but simply clears his throat and looks away again, seemingly lost in his own thoughts as he strokes a prematurely gray beard.
"Anyway," Gelik says loudly, "Have I told you all about the time I was at this big-whoop wedding in Taldor on Pathfinder business, and this trio of assassins burst in, and I talked them down from murdering the groom?"
Sasha rolls her eyes. "Last time you said it was just one assassin, Gelik."
"I've talked down my fair share of assassins!" the gnome quickly responds, her ink-stained index finger pointed in the air.
-----
As Lionel takes the stairs up to the deck, he nearly collides with the ship's cook, Rambar. He stops short, and some soup from a large tureen he carries splashes onto his already filthy apron and the stack of wooden bowls he carries in his other hand. "Ah, getting impatient for dinner?" he jokes, smiling with what brown teeth he has left. He chuckles and deftly pours you a bowl of soup. He brushes past the tiefling as he heads down the stairs, whistling. The soup is watery, as usual, but it actually smells better than the slop he's been serving for most of the trip.
Screwing up his face in a sneer as the cooks rancid breath hit him, Lionel remained quiet as he was handed a fresh bowl of soup. Stood looking at the cook leaving, he then shrugged and made his way onto the deck.
Outside amongst sailors, he felt more at ease. Leaning on the railing and sipping on his soup, using the bowl as a cup, he followed the crew going about their business. "How many of you are yet the captains men?" he wondered.
Lionel's dour demeanor seems to have done nothing to Kayle's mood. She shakes her head at Gathien. "Well its nothing to concern oneself about now. Besides, I think most of the crew like me! And if they don't I'll just swim away." In a lower, amused voice she whispers, "Yaaay magic.."
The student brushes off Aerys's concern with a wave and a smile. "Thank you for the concern! If trouble does brew like Lionel seems concerned about, I'll make sure to barricade myself in with you."
Seeming more interested in idle gossip and stories than anything serious, she is easily distracted by Gelik's words. "A murder at a wedding! I'm surprised the bride didn't kill the assassins for interrupting her day. Taldan assassins are so rude."
Gathien smiles again and whispers, "Do you have the ability to cast that twice, just in case?"
He then looks up at Aerys and nods, "Indeed, they seem to be very good folk, and I think it makes far more sense to try to enjoy the journey, personally, than fret over it."
He then chuckles at Sasha's comment about Gelik's story. "I'm sure this was a totally different wedding than the one you're thinking of, Sasha," he adds with a mock-serious tone.
Sil, disappointed that he has not had a chance to speak with Ieana, instead turns to Sasha to rescue her from another of Gelik's stories. "So, Miss Sasha, what brings you on this voyage? I am on somewhat of a personal quest; some elves long for lands beyond Kyonin and my longing is for the jungles of Garund."
Gelik turns to regale Kayle and Gathien with stories of his bravery and cunning, and even Aerys seems mildly amused as she rolls her eyes at the gnome. Ishirou looks annoyed.
Sasha focuses on Sil, bristling slightly at his question before quickly regaining her usual smile. "I just got tired of Ilizmagorti. My job there was so boring, and my bosses were control freaks. So I'm heading to Eleder to get away. And hey, it'll be an adventure! So what's this longing, huh, Sil? What do the jungle trees got that the forests don't?"
Before the elf can answer, the cook comes down the stairs with a cry of "Dinner!" The dirty-aproned, brown-toothed cook emerges from the stairs to the deck, impressively balancing a soup turreen under one skinny arm and a stack of wooden bowls in the opposite hand. He unceremoniously deposits a bowl in front of each passenger with a clatter of wood, then fills each bowl with his infamously watery soup. He even pours a ladle-full on Sticky. It smells a lot better than it has all voyage, though. "Sorry about the delay, folks. Enjoy!" he says with a small bow. Gelik is quick to whine about the meal, as usual, and rudely re-flavors his soup with a bit of prestidigitation, as usual. The soup does taste unusual tonight, though, a little more oily. The gnome is just starting to launch into another of his far-fetched tales when he blinks several times and falls over backwards off the bench. The other passengers follow shortly after, each one slumping off the bench or onto the table, splashing soup and flinging bowls and spoons across the table. Everything is dark.
First, there is only a dark void. Eventually, though, feeling seeps back in and Gathien feels warm sand. Something wet laps against his shoes, and there is the sound of ocean waves nearby. A heavy pressure on his legs. Then a sharp, searing pain in one foot.
Gathien's eyes snap open to find that he is on a sandy white beach, and a bruise-colored, dog-sized crustacean has pierced his boot with one sharp, scorpion-like claw. Gathien's mind reels with disorientation, and a wave of nausea washes over him, but he can still register that several of the other passengers are also on the beach, unconscious. All the passengers' gear is stacked in a pile nearby; some of it is wet but none of it is damaged. The first crustacean is joined by two others, chittering in the surf.
Gathien sits up, shaking his head which is clouded by more than just the confusion of his new circumstances. Looking down and seeing the beast over him, he thanks Desna that it wasn't something nastier and deadlier that found his unconscious body... and that his weapons seem to have been thrown into a pile. Maybe that's what they were arguing about....
He takes a deep breath and shouts at the top of his lungs, , and then tries to stand carefully, hoping that this water-scorpion beast doesn't strike him again before he can take up a defensive stance. He then tries to tumble away from the beast, toward the pile where his greatsword, dagger and sling-staff are waiting.
The bold little creature (although, it is comparable to Gathien in size) nips at the halfling with a scorpion-like pincer, hoping that he'll be easy prey.
As Gathien moves to get up the pincer nicks his leg, leaving a thin, red cut that stings but doesn't bleed. The Halfling easily moves away from the crustacean, so it and the other two move toward the other passengers in search of an easier meal.
-----
Gathien reaches into the pile for his Greatsword, and feels a sense of reassurance at the familiar weight in his hands. He turns and rushes back toward Kayle, snarling at the water-scorpion-thing, "You're not the only one with a sting.."
Kayle will stand and move away from the creature that stung her. She thrusts one hand toward it, palm out and scowls. Magic builds in her hand and releases as a brief burst of pale white light. .
"Ugh..where..what the f%*! happened?"
As Kayle stands, the crustacean snips again, hoping for slower prey than the halfling.
Kayle's foot is caught by the edge of the claw, and starts mildly bleeding on the sand.
As the pulse of light flases in the creature's eyes, it chitters and waggles its finned, stinger-tipped tail. Kayle's magic can't seem to find much consciousness to affect, and encounters only the single-minded hungry instinct of a mindless vermin.
His head still spinning, Sil has little time to react but calls out "Sticky, hit it!"
The little treant swings at the lobster creature near them!
Sticky's second swipe catches the creature after it dodges the first blow, taking off a couple of legs. The now limbless joints leak a light blue, almost periwinkle, blood. It hisses loudly, clacking its pincers in pain, woozy but still barely alive.
"Gods, my head hurts, everythings spinnin'. I gotta stop takin' the crew up on their challanges, iron stomach or no. It always ends like this. Good thing Rufus isnt too strict about when I get up, Im just muscle after all..." Lionel thought as he was awakened by a shout he didnt catch the meaning of, but assumed was a random crewman yelling to another. He was about to continued his train of thought, to once again promise himself "never again", when one of the creatures dug its pincer into his leg.
With a howl like a mad wounded animal, Lionel flew to his feet, looking about wildeyed before swiftly shifting into confusion. "What in all the Hells?!"
"What is this!?" He yelled, swiping at his attacker with such force, his woozy head almost made him stumble from vertigo.
Lionel's howl makes the bug in front of him skittish, and it lashes out with another pincer in defense.
The hit finds a painful nerve in Lionel's arm. and a large bruise flourishes as it buzzes with pain. Still frightened by the howl, it strikes out with both claws, and lashes out with its tail.
The scared flailing can't seem to find its mark, though.
The partially de-legged one attacks the treant, trying to pierce its bark with a vicious tail sting.
The stinger buries itself into Sticky's bark, but the poison it tries to pump into nonexistent veins merely trickles down the wood with no effect. As more blood pools out of its legless wound, it slumps to the sand, no longer moving except for the occasional twitch.
The first one presses on behind enemy lines, looking for something to eat. It heads toward the slumped form of Aerys Mavato, clicking its pincers hungrily.
-----
Gathien swings at the little monster as it tries to step away, but the lingering dizziness of whatever felled him earlier persists, causing his blade to pass wide.
Round 3
Cursing, but happy to no longer be near one of the chitinous monsters, she'll head to the pile of gear and grab the first weapon she sees, tossing it to whoever it belongs to.
"Hit them with this!"
Sil moves over to the pile of gear and begins to rifle through it.
Sil then yells out, "Sticky, go flank over there!" The treant stomps through the sand to flank with Lionel and swing his branches at the creature!
Kayle makes her way over to the equipment pile, searching for something useful...
Combat items you can find:
-Anything (besides armor) on another player's character sheet
-Composite Longbow and arrows
-longsword (for a small creature)
-MW shortbow and arrows (for a small creature)
-MW Katana
-MW rapier
-kukri
-----
Giving Gathein a acknowledging nod as he stepped in behind the creature, Lionel waited for it to notice the new threat behind it before striking out with his claws.
Round 3
If Gathein delays until after Kayle, she'll draw his sword out and offer it to him. If he goes or takes the blade himself, she'll pull out one of her acid flasks and ready to throw it next round.
After taking another small injury, Gathien reaches within himself and unleashes the flame within his blood, the warmth spreading to his muscles and burning away all thoughts other than survival and killing the beast before him. He snarls as the heavy blade slams into the scorpion-creature, cracking open the shell and bisecting the creature that harmed him. He follows the blade's momentum, allowing it to carry him forward toward his next target, the last surviving creature.
for
The crustacean is still focused on Lionel, returning his attempted clawings with an assault of its own.
One pincer comes close, but Lionel manages to hold it off as it futilely tries to hit him.
-----
Following Gathien, Lionel was determined to get in a hit before all their foes were slain. He always felt restless when circumstance conspired against him and left his claws dry and unbloodied.
Realizing he had more than one hand, Lionel lashed out again.
Lionel cracks open one of the creature's pincers, covering his hand in periwinkle blood. It hisses at him, still alive...but barely.
Round 4
Seeing the situation well in hand, Kayle will move from the pile to check on the other survivors. She'll avoid Jask for the moment, "Best leave the criminal until last.." and move to Ishirou.
She'll check him for wounds and then wake him up. "Ishirou, wake up."
Sil grabs his spell component pouch from the pile and yells, "Go, Sticky!"
Sticky swings his branches around at the crab!
Sticky finishes what Lionel started, crushing the bug and sending blue blood spattering over the tiefling and the treant.
As Kayle looks him over, Ishirou seems unhurt. Roused, he squints against the bright sunlight and utters a low moan of pain, clutching his stomach. The others have similar reactions, getting up slowly and speaking very little, if at all.
With the threat of becoming dinner dealt with, there is time to take stock of what has happened. The passengers' last memories are of sitting down to dinner aboard the Jenivere. After that, only a confusing jumble of images as if from a dream, and feelings of nausea, panic, fear, and drowning. Despite the fact that everyone is on the beach, no one is particularly wet, nor is the pile of gear that someone must have left there.
Looking around, a dense green jungle rises to the south. The beach stretches east and west for a little while, then the arms of sand turn north, becoming jagged with rocks that form a cove around the sea. To the north, choppy waves slosh and crash against black, razor-sharp rocks at the cove's mouth where it meets the ocean's expanse.
On the beach, it seems most of the passengers survived. There is no sign of crew, captain, first mate, or Ieana. As Kayle wakes the remaining unconscious passengers, they stir groggily, squinting against the sun's light, standing slowly. They thank her before retrieving their equipment from the pile. Gelik cleans himself off with a quick bit of magic. Ishirou is taciturn, as usual. Aerys staggers to the treeline and vomits several times before she claims a few items from the pile as well. Jask Derindi, the ship's prisoner, sits cross-legged on the sand, looking relatively calm and happy for a castaway.
Sasha decides that, unlike aboard the Jenivere, this strange new locale warrants wearing armor. Before she turns away to pull a chain shirt over her head, though, you can catch a glimpse of her back. Her shirt, apparently torn sometime between the dinner on the ship and waking up here, no longer conceals a large tattoo on her back that shows a pair of red, clasped praying mantis forearms.
After a few minutes, everyone feels significantly less sick. The position of the sun indicates that it is a few hours after noon. Birds call and insects buzz from the jungle behind them, and waves crash before them. The newly awoken passengers say nothing for a while as their stomachaches fade, and are replaced with a different, more ominous feeling of dread: they are stranded.
Kayle will draw her compass out of the pile of gear after sorting the rest of her stuff out and try to figure out where they are.
While doing that, she'll also look around their surroundings.
Kayle will point to the ship, calling out. "It looks like the Jenivere got wrecked on the rocks! Serves those bastards right for poisoning us and tossing us overboard. Last thing I remember is Gelik falling over and then passing out."
Gathien relaxes, allowing the power flowing through him to recede, taking the clarity, focus and strength from him and leaving behing a degree of weariness. He takes a deep breath to steady himself and sheathes his blade before returning to the pile to reclaim the rest of his gear.
Gathien nods, "Aye, I was just about to point it out myself.... I understood being cast overboard, at least, to some extent. But being beached and the ship run aground...", he shakes his head, "...I cannot get a sense of what that might be about. Still, I do wonder if we've discovered what the Captain and mate were arguing about."
Sil takes a deep breath and sits down on the sand. Sticky shambles over to the elf and sits next to him. Sil pats Sticky's stump. "Good job."
"No, none of us are wet. We're certainly feeling the effects of poison and I can still make out the footprints in the sand. Someone drugged us and dropped us off here."
After a moment when he's feeling better Sil gathers up the rest of his gear with Sticky's help.
"We need to set up camp and find some water. I volunteer myself. Sticky will help me but if anyone else wants to assist we would be grateful."
Sil and Sticky find a suitable campsite location not far into the jungle, shaded by thick trees that form an easily defensible perimeter. Without the proper tools, it is difficult, but the trees seem to bend easily, dropping fronds and branches for Silmayre as if they were gifts. He makes good time, and with the other passengers' help, it takes only an hour to set up camp.
Ishirou, silent throughout the process of setting up camp, speaks once the work is complete. "I think I know where we are. Based on our course, and the rough currents and sharp rocks around the coast, I believe that we are on a small island called Smuggler's Shiv."
You may have heard about Smuggler's Shiv:
Lionel looked at the beached ship, a sneer creeping onto his lips. "Ive seen enough of the crews skill durin' our travel, and I doubt they managed that by accident." He motioned at the ship. "Whatever plan required us to be dumped here, likely called for the ship to be scuttled as well." He looked out to sea, scanning the horizon in silence for a few moments. "Just dont ask me why, cause it aint makin' any sense to me."
Following along into the jungle, Lionel helped set up camp with practiced efficiency, clearly no stranger to making camp on tropical islands.
Although it did not look it to begin with, the Tiefling blundering around the camp site angrily whacking at leaves and tree trunks alike. His anger was getting in the way.
"If we are to stay here for a while, I suggest we have a look at the ship in the mornin'. There are a great many needs we may end up havin', that could be covered by gear onboard."
Gathien nods at Lionel's suggestion, "Aye, that's a good idea, there may be useful items aboard.... or clues as to what happened to us. I think we'd best also consider setting watches tonight -- and make sure we have a clear line of sight to see anyone who might be coming... if there were drag marks in the sand, surely someone knows where we are."
Sil nods at the suggestions. "That sounds like a good plan. Watches shouldn't be necessary though; Sticky here never sleeps and I've trained him to keep a lookout while I sleep. He can take care of us tonight in case anything tries to sneak up on us."
Before going to bed Sil commands Sticky to keep watch and wake them up if something happens.
"Morning? Why the heck would we sit around here waiting that long? Let's just go over now."
Kayle will share what she recalls with her check (anyone may open DC 16 and below Knowledge check)
"The lighthouse may be a good place for us to head to. If we can get it working, maybe we can try and signal a ship."
"Listen lass, the ship doesnt look to be goin' anywhere. Lionel said, motioning in the direction of the wreck. "Id prefer it if I knew a bit more about the surrounding terrain and potential inhabitants, before wandering over there. The ship lies in the open, exposed. Who knows what or who it may attract." He crossed his arms, almost defiantly. "Id at least take a few hours, track down some food and get this poison completely out of my system before chancing the ship."
As the others argue over what to do, Sil sits in his little lean-to that he has finished by this point and takes a deep breath. He scans the nearby vegetation. Well, it's not the way I hoped to experience the southern parts of Golarion. But things could be worse. At least we're outside and on firm ground. We could all be at the bottom of the sea or in chains in the hold of the ship or buried in a dungeon somewhere. I'll take the fresh air any day.