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GM Singer's Skull and Shackles Campaign

Game Master Singer

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Skull and Shackles begins in just a few days!

Male Human AC:15 F:+6 R:+1 W:-1 HP:14


HP: 2/6 AC: 13 (17 with Mage Armor) Flat-Footed: 10 Touch: 13 / Init: +3 BAB: +0 /Ranged: +3/ Melee: +0 / CMB: +3 CMD: +13
Drow Sorceress / 1


Male Goblin Rogue (Unchained/Pirate/Scout) 9

Barkeep! Rum me!

Someone has placed a copper coin under your tongue and left it there for days. At least, that's the taste lingering in your mouth.

Your eyes open slowly, they feel sandy and hot, but the area is mercifully dark and there is no light to blind you. Your head is tight..a distinct pressure at the temples. The pain is not constant, however, but thumping in synch with your heart. But it's much much worse than that..

The world is moving! Swaying ever so slightly..churning the cheap wine in your belly. The world is creaking like old bones, no, like wood. You feel planks of it under your body and it is hard and unforgiving. What the hell happened last night?!

You remember being at the Formidable Maid, a popular tavern in Port Peril, and by Gods it was a night to remember! Music, rum, women and coin! Life in the shackles is life to the fullest as they say! Funny, you can't seem to remember how it ended or where YOU ended up...

You groan as you attempt to align your senses through the haze of your own hangover. There are others near you, in the dark, who are groaning too.

You are not alone here..

HP: 2/6 AC: 13 (17 with Mage Armor) Flat-Footed: 10 Touch: 13 / Init: +3 BAB: +0 /Ranged: +3/ Melee: +0 / CMB: +3 CMD: +13
Drow Sorceress / 1

Trying hard to suppress the urge to vomit whatever is left in her stomach, Lorelei attempts to remember the events of the night before. After that attempt proves futile, she tries to sit up and figure out where the hell she is.

Hearing other people make noise, Lorelei asks: "Does anyone happen to remember how I got here? Or for that matter, does anyone happen to know where the hell here is?"

Male Goblin Rogue (Unchained/Pirate/Scout) 9

Ahhrg!! Feels like Rovagug had a party in me noggin! And why is the world all upsadownzy? Urk rolls out of his accidental headstand and to his feet, and then careens wildly into the nearest wall. "Gah!" he hollers, and squints around, noticing the others in the room.

Stinkin bigjobs! What did they do to me?, Urk thinks before he hears the female yelling at him. The goblin covers his ears and cries out, "Ahh! Quit yer infernal barking, wooman! Whatever it is, I dint do it. And you can't proove utherwise! Now let me oot of here!"

Male Human AC:15 F:+6 R:+1 W:-1 HP:14

Malack rolls over and awakes from his slumber. Spending most of his days hung over on the way to drunkenness it's a morning like any other. He looks around and sees three babes and a goblin. The babes are definitely better looking than the usual riffraff Malack picks up but their cries of confusion are all too familiar.
 Listen, I'm sure in the light of day you regret many of the things done to you or around you but hey you're whole and you've got no noticeable marks on ye. My only regret is that I don't remember cause from the looks of things you legged goddesses must have given me quite a night. And you there little green fellow, I cringe to think of how you may have been involved but I know I've been involved in stranger mixes but for a little green guy such as yourself last might musta been a whole new world. Put er there wee one and to many more. Though in my experience these ladies are likely to leave and never look back.  
Malack attempts to match knuckles with the goblin in a strange hand to hand greeting.
Malack has a bladder full to the brim but otherwise he's very impressed with himself.

Male Goblin Rogue (Unchained/Pirate/Scout) 9

Urk nimbly hides behind the nearest object as the big noisy man attempts to punch him, or would have if his head was not full of throbbing pains. Instead, he stumbles awkwardly about with his hands over his ears. "Argh! Stop with the shouting, hooman. I weren't there! Noobody saw nuthin!"

Male Human AC:15 F:+6 R:+1 W:-1 HP:14

Sorry little buddy. I wasn't trying to hurt ya. Just a greeting I picked, hmm where was that anyways? Could someone direct me to the latrine? My back teeth are floating. Where the yell are we anyways?    
Malack begins to search for an exit. Despite his gruff crass exterior Malack takes great pains to avoid touching the ladies as he feels around for an exit.
Excuseme, watch yer foot, coming through, no harm meant. You know I figure we done things last night that'd make a brothel mistress blush, and gods know I'm a scavenger when comes to womanly affection, but say this for ole Malack I ain't a creeper. I know the wine can transform me in the eyes of maidens but come the morrow this Troll knows he needs to find a bridge to sleep one off..where's the dang door already?  

Dark Archive

Female Chelaxian Cleric 1

Slowly rising from her sleeping position, Asmodia would rub her hands over her forehead, trying to recover a bit from the hangover, before checking herself over for any other wounds.. or for any of her gear that's been left.

She then notices the swaying, and that annoying, coppery taste in her mouth that won't go away, trying hard to place where it's from.

Malack- The "dang door" is a series of iron bars that just so happens to match the "dang walls" to your left and right. There is not enough light for you to see them, but you can feel their cold certainty in your palms when you reach out to grasp them.

Urk- Your beady eyes pierce the darkness, however, and you can make out a large and expansive hold full of miscellaneous items. Barrels are bound and stacked off to the side next to bundles of coiled rope and half open crates of various tools. Even more barrels and random crates hang tethered from the "dang ceiling" in mesh hammocks that sway slightly with the subtle shifting of the room. At the far end of the hold is a small set of wooden steps leading up to a floor hatch that is closed shut.

Lorelei- Your scabbards and sheaths are empty. Your armor has been stripped away. Pouches and belts have been filched of their personal effects. Someone has taken your money... From the sound of it, the others in the cell are discovering the same thing.

Asmodia- That copper taste in your mouth persists and a memory crosses your mindscape. Your last drink, the night before, was tainted with this foul taste before things became blurry and surreal..

Male Human AC:15 F:+6 R:+1 W:-1 HP:14

Malack shrugs, this isn't his first time in a cell.
Hey what gives? I gotta piss! Bucket please!   

Male Goblin Rogue (Unchained/Pirate/Scout) 9

His initial confusion now wearing off, and the screaming pixies hitting his head with mallets have dissipated, Urk begins to make some rapid mental connections.

"Oy, somebody tell me they ownz this boot, and we just woke up from a partee! I'm tooo young and bootiful to be pressgang-ed!"

HP: 2/6 AC: 13 (17 with Mage Armor) Flat-Footed: 10 Touch: 13 / Init: +3 BAB: +0 /Ranged: +3/ Melee: +0 / CMB: +3 CMD: +13
Drow Sorceress / 1

Lorelei gives a little shriek of anger as she realizes that she has been stripped of everything but her clothing. "What the hell? All my stuffs been stolen!"

Male Human AC:15 F:+6 R:+1 W:-1 HP:14

Malack sits down.

Male Goblin Rogue (Unchained/Pirate/Scout) 9

Hiding himself quickly behind a barrel, Urk cries out, "Don't look et me! I dint steal nuthin!"

There is the clatter of ring, wood and rope as someone lifts the hatch in the ceiling, sending spinning daggers of light down into the eyes of the heroes.

Fort Save DC 12 or be Blinded for 1d4 rounds.

The stairs creak as a figure moves down into the holds. For those who have overcome the spots bursting before you-- can make out a lean shadow moving towards the cell door. A whip is slowly being uncoiled from his belt..

Master Scourge

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!

Anyone still grasping the iron bars, or leaned against them, would feel the sting of leather breaking the speed of sound! The whip licks across the bars with an audible snap, demanding everyone's full attention.

I said on your feet!

Dark Archive

Female Chelaxian Cleric 1

"Mine as well. I'd imagine that our captors wouldn't want us armed when they greet us. We'd be best off staying calm until they arrive, but until then, is anyone wounded?" Asmodia's voice is calm and measured as she speaks, leaning against the wooden wall.

"Is everyone tasting copper, by the way?"

Her words are cut off by the sudden arrival of the rays of the burning mother, growling a little as the whip lashes out against the bars.

Fort Save
1d20 + 3 ⇒ (13) + 3 = 16

Now fully awake thanks to the light and the sound of the whip against the bars, Asmodia would walk calmly over to those bars and onto the deck when allowed.

HP: 2/6 AC: 13 (17 with Mage Armor) Flat-Footed: 10 Touch: 13 / Init: +3 BAB: +0 /Ranged: +3/ Melee: +0 / CMB: +3 CMD: +13
Drow Sorceress / 1

Fort save 1d20 ⇒ 15

Looking blearily towards the man talking, Lucrezia staggers to her feet.

Hmph, looks like we did go and get ourselves pressganged. Not quite how I planned to find a new ship to serve on.

Male Goblin Rogue (Unchained/Pirate/Scout) 9

Fort save: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
Blind for: 1d4 ⇒ 4 rounds.

"Aaahh!! My ayebles!!" shouts the goblin while flailing madly and dramatically. "I em blindeded! I cannot work! Mah hands are tooo dainty and mah face too purty! Oh woe! Me pooor mum must be so worried!"

Urk privately congratulates himself on his clever plan to bewilder everyone until he can escape, then falls over and makes a continuous wheezy groaning sound. "Besmara save meh, I fear I am dyin! Coff! Coff!"

Male Human AC:15 F:+6 R:+1 W:-1 HP:14

1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22
Feeling the crack of the whip on his back Malack has to suppress a smile, if he wanted a kiss he'd asked his mother, but the more he thinks on it he can't remember much about his mother.
Oooh, owww, yes sir! Up and at 'em, that's what I always say. Let me outta here and I'll get straight to work. You ladies need a had getting out? Eeee gads! Little green one, what ales you man, I mean goblin?"

Male Human Summoner (Master Summoner) 5 -- HP 46 : AC 15 CMD 14 TAC 12 FAC 13 : longspear+2; 1d8-1 : LCrossbow+4; 1d8 : F+5 R+5 W+5 : INIT+2 Perc+0 CMB+2

Apologies for the delay. I had to defend my dissertation proposal and I have only been spot-checking the boards.

Fortitude: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7
Blind: 1d4 ⇒ 1

Ye gods, am I dead? No, the dead do not feel pain. I cannot open my eyes, but my body feels like someone took a barber's strop to my backside. What is this I'm touching? A cot? Why am I rocking?

Sjurd blearily opens her eyes just as the deck hatch opens and blinds her with light. She reacts quickly, throwing up a hand and looking away to allow her eyes to adjust to the murky shadows of the hold.

A ship. Yelling, surly, whips. Pirates. Copper taste in my mouth? Drugged.

She stands shakily and looks about at her fellow press-ganged, then at the workmaster. "Fine. Vhat ship is this und who is its captain?"

The man with the whip makes an expression that could be mistaken for pain, but you realize it is a genuine smile of pleasure. He winds the whip tight again in his hand, eagerly ready to send it snapping forward if he needs to.

8 more figures of various size and age make their way down from the hatch wearing the mismatched attire of sailors. They are each wielding clubs that look as rough around the edges as the men holding them.

The ship? The man with the whip leers in at Sjurd. The ship be the ship o' the dead and her Cap'N is death hisssself. He laughs and the swabs fanning out behind him hesitate and then laugh together as if on cue.

You'll be a'meeting him in moments if you come nice and peaceful. If you don't be coming nice and peaceful, which me heart is hopin' you still have a bit o'fight left in you, me and me boys here are going to work you over and then drag you all blood n' tatters to the Cap'N s'feet.

The man with the whip unlocks the cage and the iron door swings open.

So? Whats it going to be?

HP: 2/6 AC: 13 (17 with Mage Armor) Flat-Footed: 10 Touch: 13 / Init: +3 BAB: +0 /Ranged: +3/ Melee: +0 / CMB: +3 CMD: +13
Drow Sorceress / 1

Lorelei looks over the man with the whip and then men behind him and decides that she'd rather not give them an excuse to work her over. At least not yet.

With a loud sigh, Lorelei says: "I'll come on out peacefully." She'll walk on over and out the door, keeping her eyes on the guy with the whip in case he intends to use it on her anyway.

Male Human Summoner (Master Summoner) 5 -- HP 46 : AC 15 CMD 14 TAC 12 FAC 13 : longspear+2; 1d8-1 : LCrossbow+4; 1d8 : F+5 R+5 W+5 : INIT+2 Perc+0 CMB+2

Sadist. Requires overwhelming strength to feel safe. Cruel, but coward at his heart.

"I doubt the captain vould vant us unable to perform our duties. If you have kidnapped us, then you lack a full crew." She calmly steps forward. "Vhat is your rank to call you by?"

Male Human AC:15 F:+6 R:+1 W:-1 HP:14

Malack offers no resistance as he walks out of the cage. In fact he whistles a bit.
Well let's go meet the captain. The ladies'll be coming along. Probably never been captives before so it might take em a minute to figure things out.

Male Goblin Rogue (Unchained/Pirate/Scout) 9

Urk springs nimbly to his feet and salutes in the direction of Sjurd's voice. "Blood n tatters you say? No need for that, no need for that. I shall be out the door as soon as I can see it, my good man." Grinning, the goblin starts off in an exaggerated march, and walks straight into the iron bars.

"Oof.. Erm, left or right sir?"

Dark Archive

Female Chelaxian Cleric 1

Rolling her eyes at Malack's comment, Asmodia would stride out of the cell and onto the deck of the ship without any complaint, keeping her eyes on the pirates sent down to greet them, sizing them up.

HP: 2/6 AC: 13 (17 with Mage Armor) Flat-Footed: 10 Touch: 13 / Init: +3 BAB: +0 /Ranged: +3/ Melee: +0 / CMB: +3 CMD: +13
Drow Sorceress / 1

Lorelei pauses for a split-second as she contemplates responding to the man's comment, then decides that since it's true that she's never been a captive before, she'll just ignore him for now and continue on. Besides, she doesn't want to annoy the guy with the whip by stopping to talk.

You sort your fuzzy memory to see if you can place the face of the whip wielding man.
DC 10 Int check

The thuggish pirates lay rough hands on shoulders, arms and even the backs of your necks as they herd you from the cell. Their leader lays the coiled leather of his whip against Sjurd's cheek lightly. Me name and rank, is it? Do you hear that boyos, she be wantin' to know me name and rank..

The leader leans in uncomfortably close to the lot of you, his yellowed teeth ordained with two golden replacements. His breath smells sickly sweet.

There is another musky odor on the man, one that is slightly peppery and one that conjures the taste of copper on the tongue once it passes through the nose.
DC 15 Craft (alchemy) or DC 10 Knowledge (Nature) to recognize the source.

I be Scourge, boatswain and master-at-arms of the vessel Wormwood, and me whip here is named "The Accountant" as she always takes a pound o'flesh if it be owed her.

The heroes are ushered out of the hold and on the burning deck above. It is like passing from one world into the next. Blinking away the transition from shadow to sun, you see the wooden length of a long ship beneath you, the rush and crack of sails catching wind above, and a vast and endless sea pressing down all around you.

Welcome to yer' new home, me wind swept' dregs! Har!

Male Human AC:15 F:+6 R:+1 W:-1 HP:14

Intelligence check 1d20 ⇒ 5
Yup, Malack's got no clue who this fool is, but he's pretty certain of what will eventually happen to him. Malack's been through this kind of fun before. Start out a captive, tell a few jokes, a few war stories, suddenly a dullard or two starts to let his guard down, see you as a buddy. Commiserate a little about all this whipping, all this hard work, next thing you know ole "el capitan" (that's Varisian for captain) finds himself on the wrong end of a mutiny led by a smiling Malack. That or you swim to shore and get drunk. His only concern is the ladies, right pretty they are and on a boat fulla sailors. Oh well, it wouldn't be the first time Malack knocked some teeth out on account of a woman. After the first one the rest of the crew will get the message. That Malack ain't afraid a no whipping and he fights to live. Anyways men like to good about themselves, even the scruviest sea dog things he's a gentleman in his heart. A word here or there will go a long way to keeping these damsels safe.

As Malack is being led around by these sea dogs he jokingly says to them,
" Its a shame you let me out of there so soon. We was in the middle of a ceremony. That little goblin there is a priest and these three beauties were to be my wives. Ain't that the way boys? And here I was all worked up for the honeymoon. No don't you be trying to steal 'em from me. Its true love boys, true love!

Male Human Summoner (Master Summoner) 5 -- HP 46 : AC 15 CMD 14 TAC 12 FAC 13 : longspear+2; 1d8-1 : LCrossbow+4; 1d8 : F+5 R+5 W+5 : INIT+2 Perc+0 CMB+2

Sjurd gives a small smile with only one side of her mouth. "Only because ve felt pity, Malack. After all, there are only so many sheep in Port Peril to sate your needs."

She does her best to stand tall and firm, despite the leering attention given her by Bosun Scourge. Bide your time. Make allies. Stoke resentment.

Male Human AC:15 F:+6 R:+1 W:-1 HP:14

Aw shucks when ya say it like that who wouldn't be in love.

Male Goblin Rogue (Unchained/Pirate/Scout) 9

Int check: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21
I've seen this bastard before, I swear it. Probably bought me my last drink... Urk watches and listens to the bigjobs closely, and chimes in. "Indeed, I am Urk, high priest of Asmodeoos, and I were to join these foool hoomans in the infernal contract of mah-tree-mony." He bows elaborately. "I had nearly secured their souls when you interrupted us. More's the pity for any nearby sheeps."

Hmm, the noisy man could be helpful. I even might get along with him. The females I can't really say, although the lippy one is likely to get tossed overboard as good as not. Stick with the big man for now, and we'll be pulling the ears off of these jerks soon enough...

Dark Archive

Female Chelaxian Cleric 1

Int Check
1d20 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 1 = 20

Knowledge Nature check (Untrained)
1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3

Looking around the vessel as she reaches the deck, Asmodia would grin just a bit, tasting the salty sea air on her tongue.

"Not a bad ship, Scourge. You could have simply asked for me to serve on it, rather then resort to press ganging.."

For those who made their Int checks, you most certainly recognize Scourge and several of the sailors ushering you to the deck. Last night, as the drinks were flowing, they were hovering suspiciously close to the bar and the newly filled mugs.

For those who were blinded by the initial burst of light in the hold, your sight slowly returns. The heroes are standing just beneath the main mast, encircled on all sides by dozens of sailors. A dozen more are peering like crows from above in the rigging. There are 4 others who seem disoriented and weaponless, most likely other victims of the Press Gangers.

Master Scourge takes a few steps back behind your group and the end of his whip drops like a serpent on the deck. His face takes on the features of a cat preparing to pounce...but he stays his hand for now.

There are two men with their backs to the group standing near the helm. The first one is a large Garundi with a shaven head, a long beard bound in gold rings and an eye patch. The other is younger with a long, dark ponytail and a cruel looking barbed club in his hands. The two finish their conversation before the bigger man moves towards the gathering.

He is imposing as he gets closer, his movements agile for a man so large and his stride is one of earned confidence. His voice is a steady baritone that does not rise or fall without purpose of inflection.

"Glad you could join us at last. Welcome to the Wormwood! He outstretches his arm gesturing to the ship around them and the sailors give out various shouts and sharp whistles at the mention of her name. I'm Barnabas Harrigan, that's Captain Barnabas Harrigan to you, not that you'll ever have need to address me further. You should know that you belong to my crew now and her endeavors are now your endeavors. Anyone who does not embrace their endeavors will taste the lash or worse.

Master Scourge snaps the tip of his whip against the mast and it gives out a loud bark as it strips the paint from the wood. You can only imagine what it might do to flesh.

Even with you new recruits, we're still short handed, and I aim to keep what crew I have. There'll be a keelhaulin' for anyone caught killin' anyone on this ship. Mr. Plugg! Harrigan turns his attention to the man with the ponytail at his side. If you'd be so kind as to make pirates out of these landlubbers, it'll save me from having to put them in the sweatbox for a year and a day or feeding them to the sharks.. The Captain turns without another word and heads for his quarters.

Mr. Plugg loosens his shoulder muscles with a slow rotation and makes his way towards the group.

Well, ye got any questions?

Male Human AC:15 F:+6 R:+1 W:-1 HP:14

Gods Malack, just what have you gotten yerself into? Them big bastards aren't gonna give up easy on this ship. You got a goblin and three folk who sit down to pee on your side.
For the first time today Malack really starts to feel his hangover.
I figure you don't want us to ask any questions, like one of them rememberable questions, or retortful questions or something. But supposing I did have question and just an honest one really, one not to provoke but simply clear something up, can I pee over the side of this ship? Been holding it for a while. After that whatever work ya want, yeah I'm your man.

HP: 2/6 AC: 13 (17 with Mage Armor) Flat-Footed: 10 Touch: 13 / Init: +3 BAB: +0 /Ranged: +3/ Melee: +0 / CMB: +3 CMD: +13
Drow Sorceress / 1

Lorelei tries not to flinch as whip strips the paint from the mast. I would really like to not feel that on my back. Like, at all. Ever. Also, "Wormwood" is not the most reassuring name for a boat, not that I apparently have any choice in the matter.

Lorelei just shakes her head no when if she has any questions and will look away when Malack goes to relieve himself over the side.

Dark Archive

Female Chelaxian Cleric 1

Asmodia calmly looks straight back at Mr Plugg as he approaches, not flinching from his gaze.

"Yeah, I've got a question. When do we hit our first ship and get some loot?"

A few of the sailors chuckle at Malack's request and Mr Plugg gestures with his spiked club towards the side of the boat. He walks past the man and moves towards the others.

Ye want to hit a ship? You want your share of loot? Mr Plugg does not have the obvious cruelness in his eyes that Scourge does, but the weapon in his grasp looks cruel enough if it needs to be. An honest question. Plugg sniffs and looks at the sailors who are still gathered. Master Scourge, would you be so kind as to clear the rabble?

Scourge grins his yellow grin and looks to the swabs who are already scrambling to flee the scene and return to their work. A hard snap of the whip punctuates the order.

There will be ships on the horizon, if Besmara is kind, and there will be loot for those who earn it. Until then, however, you will show me what you know of deck and line. Of sail and stern. You will show me what you know and I will decide if you are worthy of the Wormwood's firm footing when the rolling sea is hungry and willing to hold you close.

What skills do you have that can impress me?

Male Goblin Rogue (Unchained/Pirate/Scout) 9

Upon hearing Mr. Plugg inquire about any any questions, Urk quickly raises his hand in the air. And waits. Realizing nobody seems to be paying him any attention, Urk shrugs and watches the scene unfold.

Dark Archive

Female Chelaxian Cleric 1

"Honest questions being greeted with honest answers. This is pleasing to me, I must say." Asmodia would try not to flinch at the sight of the swabs feeling from the whip, well aware of the need for discipline onboard a ship such as this. Her voice would stay as calm as possible while speaking, eager to impress.

Turning her shoulder to Mr Scourge, Asmodia would tug down her top, showing off her left shoulder and the skull and crossbow's tattoo there.

"I'd guess you seadogs know what this means.. and if you give me back my gear and pendent, you'll have a cleric of the Pirate Queen onboard to help with the healing."

Plugg raises an eyebrow at the goblin, then tilts his gaze to Scourge.

We wasn't picky, Plugg, he wasn't choosy neither. Just drugged them and dragged them hah! Took em'all, we did. That goblin too! Fit right in me favorite canvas bag, did that green one!

Mr Plugg's eyes return to the goblin. Speak, if you know the common tongue.

Male Human Summoner (Master Summoner) 5 -- HP 46 : AC 15 CMD 14 TAC 12 FAC 13 : longspear+2; 1d8-1 : LCrossbow+4; 1d8 : F+5 R+5 W+5 : INIT+2 Perc+0 CMB+2

"If it pleases you." Sjurd takes a few steps toward the side of the ship and leans with both hands placed on the wooden railing. She looks up, staring at the sea birds wheeling overhead. She appears to contemplate their movements, subtly moving her head to following their flight. She raises her right hand and points at one of the birds with her forefinger pointing forward, her thumb straight up, and the other fingers curled. She trains her sight on a fat seagull and twitches her thumb downward. "Bang." A coruscating shimmer of energy erupts from her hand with a thoomp and streaks toward the bird. It strikes it in an eyeblink, leaving an eruption of bones and feathers that fall lazily on the breeze toward the open waters.

Magic Missile: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3

I used the statistics for a raven, which has 3hp.

She dusts her hands and turns back to Mr. Plugg. "I am also a competent sailor und swimmer." She stands quietly awaiting further orders.

HP: 2/6 AC: 13 (17 with Mage Armor) Flat-Footed: 10 Touch: 13 / Init: +3 BAB: +0 /Ranged: +3/ Melee: +0 / CMB: +3 CMD: +13
Drow Sorceress / 1

What, they kidnap us first and then want an audition? Seems a bit late for that I think.

"Well, first I'd have to know what you are impressed by to answer that. If you want to know if I'm of any use on a ship, well, I'm a decent sailor and look-out who occasionally cooks and sings."

Male Human AC:15 F:+6 R:+1 W:-1 HP:14

Malack watches as the magic flies from Sjurd's fingertips and he fights back a look of surprise and disappointment.
A cleric of Besmara too? These fools didn't need ta know all that. Could've used that to surprise this lot when they're good and tired. Guess these ladies mean to really serve under them who crack whips and swing clubs. Women. Maybe they fancy some o them. We might the second coming of Aroden himself but we'll be swabbing decks under them lot. Hey give me my gear and I'll show you how quick I can clear a head from its shoulders. Promise it won't be yours.

Malack hunches over a bit and makes a bit like he favors one leg more than the other.

Bluff 1d20 ⇒ 5

I got a few ticks from all my ex-wives but I can scrub this deck clean. Not a bad climber neither. You need someone to tie some knots and what-not. Otherwise my second wife pegged me true: Malack you're a lazy good for nothin bastard.
Malack says the last part good and loud for theatrical effect hoping to catch the ears of the other pirates who've felt the lash a time or two.

Male Goblin Rogue (Unchained/Pirate/Scout) 9

Once Plugg puts attention toward Urk and the magic missile show is over, the goblin speaks up. "Blargle blargle bla bla.... eck... ahh... ahem... yes I speak yer uncoooth tongue, but cleeerly not so well as these bigjobber ladies yeh nabbed me wiff."

Fit in a sack, did I? So will your head while your whole damn boat burns, ya racist bastard.

Sense motive: 1d20 ⇒ 14

Urk watches Malack's unconvincing fake limp for bit, and thinks too himself, Well, at least I'm not the only one who's not so eager to serve. He and I should chat when we get a chance. Bet we're not on the same page, but at least the same book. Me, I never been a good liar, just a good sneak, but if I was raised to do anything, it sure as heck wasn't to serve some belligerent fool of a bigjob.

Mr Plugg listens and watches the group with no real emotion on his face. He is unreadable, save for a slight whitening of the knuckles around his club.

I'll be the judge of your merit aboard this ship.. He looks like he is going to add something to that sentence, but does not. Follow me. Plugg walks over to the precise lattice of rope and rigging that the sailors have been trained to work with practiced perfection.

Plugg squints up into the sun, his eyes narrowing in on the crow's nest high above. Show me how you climb and show me quick. First one to the crow's nest it is.

The crow's nest is 60 feet above the deck. At half speed, it will take you 4 rounds to reach the top. At normal climbing speed the DC is 10 per check. Accelerated climbing has a higher DC, but increases your climb speed.

Make 4 DC 10 climb checks if you are moving at normal climbing all the way to the top. Make a note if any of your climb checks are accelerated before rolling the climb check as the DC will increase. Climb, me hearties, climb!

Dark Archive

Female Chelaxian Cleric 1

Moving normally up the rigging
1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19
1d20 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 1 = 18
1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17
1d20 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 1 = 10

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