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GM Singer's Skull and Shackles Campaign

Game Master Singer

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The food is exceptional given the ingredients and the fact that you are out in the middle of the ocean. Lorelei has done right by the crew and they lift their mugs to her as she passes. Kroop is stinking drunk in the kitchens and didn't bother to sample the meal nor even make his way to the deck. This seems to be common and no one questions it.

The officers make their way into the Captain's Quarters and for once the Wormwood shows a bit of majesty in her sailing. The oppressive glare of Scourge and Plugg temporarily gone, you look out over the water and appreciate the majesty of the sea and being on a strong ship such as this.

The swab handing out rum rations frowns when Malack asks for more.
Are you a simpleton? Don't you know nothin' of ship code? He takes Malack's mug and ladles in luke warm water instead. Taking a second ration OR given your ration away is grounds for a lashin. I even saw this one lad use his silver-tongue to get 3 mugs! His voice trails off and he mutters. Both he and the man who gave it to him were put in the sweatboxes for a fortnight, they were. Then Cap'n Harrigan gibed them high on the mast and let the birds have at'em..

The sailor who offered Asmodia the drink just shakes his head and walks away. Quinn looks over to her. They are scared and rightly so. Confronting the officers is like confronting the Gods themselves, to most of these men and women, and they've seen to many people brutalized and killed for their defiance. The Quartermaster's quarters is below deck near the kitchens. Sandara tilts her head to a half-orc woman throwing hand axes with some of them men near a stack of crates. That's "Cut Throat" Grok, the ship's quartermaster, and a wild woman if I ever saw one. However, she is decent friends with Kroop and is rather eager to receive bribes. It is possible you can barter for your items or even make an ally of her....there aren't enough friendly faces on this ship.

Picture of Cut Throat Grok

Male Goblin Rogue (Unchained/Pirate/Scout) 9

Urk barely manages to avoiding choking on his food when the cleric asks about getting her things back. He hisses, "Are yeh crazy, lady? I dont know where you come from, but it musta been posh if youlda thought you could just ASK for yer stuff back. You'll be lucky if he don't tell nobody, cuz if word gits to Mr. Plugg or the cap'n, at best they'll oonly make yer life more difficult."

He pauses to think a bit about what Quinn said, and watches Grok throwing axes. Ahh, a lady after me own filthy heart... if a bit on the tall side. A big smile creeps across his face, and wordlessly, he heads over to the quartermaster.

"Begging yer pardon, m'lady, I couldn't help a noticin yer pro-feesh-ency with them axes. Any chance you could give me some lessons?"

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

Malack's head is cast downward as he returns to the company of his fellows. One mug of rum certainly was exquisite but barely wet his appetite. He's just in time to hear Asmodia's request and his eye brows cock of their own accord. When Quinn points to the halforc maiden Malack is happy to see Urk take point on that task. Content to let the green lad and the talkers of the team discuss things with the axe-throwing lady orc of the sea, Malack turns his attention to the Quinn.
"So where's home for a lady sailor like you?" Malack is just genuinely curious.

Dark Archive

Female Chelaxian Cleric 1

Asmodia would laugh a bit as the Goblin lectures her, taking another sip of her rum.

"You'd be surprised what you can get simply by asking for it, and given how goblins tend to consider a roof 'posh', I'd prefer not listening to you for advice on social interaction."

Seeing Urk head over to the Quartermaster, Asmodia would decide not to talk to her just now, looking around the hold for any new recruits keeping to themselves.

Perception Check
1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15

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 twiddles her fingers above her mug of rum. A flash of prestidigitation makes the beverage glow for a moment before she takes a drink. "Mmm... at least it tastes like mead now. I vill never understand how southerners can drink such thin und sweet alcohol." She surveys the goblin heading toward the quartermaster over the rim of her mug. "I think ve should focus our efforts on turning crew to our side. Pressure from all of us vould be better than dividing our efforts."

Male Goblin Rogue (Unchained/Pirate/Scout) 9

@Asmodia, just before walking over to the purty orcish ladee

"Lady, this aint the world yer used too. And yeh aint askin men, yeh askin whipped dogs when some'un else is holdin their leash."

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

perform sing 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (18) + 8 = 26

"Well, let's see if I can do something to help put this misbegotten crew in a better mood. Maybe then it may be easier to befriend one or two."

Lorelei decides to do what she does even better than cooking, which is singing. She decides to belt out a lusty pirate ballad.

Urk- Grok tosses one of her hand axes out with startling force and it thunks into the wood of a barrel with an audible crack.

Eh, little goblin? You couldn't help but notice me? Heh heh heh. Of course you noticed Lady Cut-Throat and her spinning axes. She sends a second one out that lands a half inch from the first. Now if there were 5 of you, stacked one upon another, we might have a reason to talk about it. She grins a tusky grin, clearly not interested in mere conversation.

Asmodia- You notice two crewmen who seem to stand out but are off to the side to themselves. The first one is a man with a blue Varisian scarf tied around his head. He is scowling and pressing a cloth against his forearm where Scourge whipped him earlier. The second is a halfling with a masterwork handaxe in her belt, long honey blond hair and golden hoop rings in her ears. She is sitting close to the man, but they are not speaking. She feels someone watching her and makes eye contact with you.

Malack- Sandara takes her tricorn hat off and pushes her firey red hair back from her face. Her arms bare "sleeves" of tattoo's of various images, symbols and scenes. I'm from Hell's Harbor, sailor, and have made my way about the Shackles a time or two. I started living on ships when I was 12 years old, climbing the high lines of my father's Stormcrow before she dashed herself on the Teeth of Corus just above Port Peril. Quinn hands a half mug of rum to Malack, what she has not finished, and continues. I've been on board this ship for just about a week, give or take. Plugg made a pass at me in a local tavern and received a slap to the face. He didn't say a word, just turned beet red and walked out. Later that night someone clubbed me and tossed me into a canvas sack. Woke up in those damn holds the next morning..

Sjurd- A few sailors eye your spell casting with a mix of wonder, envy and fear. They aren't sure what you are doing to your food and drink and the word "witch" is heard muttered a time or two but you can't pinpoint the source. As in all things so far, this crew does not seem in accord on any one matter and most everyone is out for themselves.

-Lorelei- Your song is met with immediate cheers and hoots as many of the swabs recognize the bawdy tune. By the second run of the chorus the sailors are stamping their feet, swinging their mugs and shouting at the lyrics with you. A few even stand to dance and loosen their legs. When the song is over, someone shouts "Another one" and a second voice booms "To the singer and the cook! Have ye made our day a fine one!"

Dark Archive

Female Chelaxian Cleric 1

Leaving Malack and Sandara to their conversation, Asmodia would head over to the injured man and the halfling woman. Maybe I can do some good here, at least.

Putting on her best commanding Chelaxian airs, she'd try and lift the cloth off the injured man's forearm.

"Just what did you do to receive a punishment like this? Here, let me have a look, I'll see what I can do to ease the pain."

Male Goblin Rogue (Unchained/Pirate/Scout) 9

With a huge smile, Urk says, "My dear lady, I don't believe the world could handle another four of me. Everything would be stolen or on fire. Now, may I try tossing one of them choppers? I'll try not to put it in somebody's knee."

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

Ha! That meathead Plugg! He thought he could fetch a fine young lady such as yerself with some honeyed words and that massive head of his. What a fool! If I was him, and I'm not saying I do this kinda a thing I'd wait till you were good and drunk and in a less discerning mood. Maybe wait till some bravo broke her heart even and just do my best to be visible but keep my ugly mug out of the light. I've seen it happen that a fine young lady such as yerself shows a night's kindness to a sea dog but you gotta be strategic, I mean those I seen had to be strategic.
How do you reckon we get off this damn piece of driftwood? And if we did get off where would you go?

The man lifts his eyes to Asmodia and his features are a mixture of both annoyance and acceptance of her concern. I told the Master-at-arms where he could stick his whip...he took a layer of meat from my forearm. A fair trade, maybe, but not something I'm like to try again. I don't want your pity, mind you. No pity at all. My names Crimson Cogward and I've never suffered pity a day in my life.

Asmodia, roll a Diplomacy check to see if you can open up some real conversation with Cog

Grok throws her head back and laughs at Urk's request. The other sailors join her. Little greenfoot, you think you can throw my hatchets with those tiny hands of yours? heh heh heh. A shiny silver says you can't lift it over your head. A second says you can't hit that barrel if you tried. Grok challenges. She unhooks one of the throwing axes from her belt and lowers it.

It's a medium sized throwing axe. AC 12 to hit the barrel!

Sandara smirks at Malack's words and his round-a-bout way. Well now I know your master plan when it comes to the ladies. Does that actually work? She says playfully. Quinn looks out over the water. I'm not sure how we are getting off this boat. We are out to sea by days so there is not swimming back, that's for sure. And where would I go? Right back to Port Peril! That's where the action and the fame is! How about you?

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 will look around a bit for someone not too scary looking to talk to. Most likely picking someone who appreciated her song and try to start up a conversation about singing, asking if perhaps they know any songs that she may not. Lorelei is always looking to add to her collection of music.

Dark Archive

Female Chelaxian Cleric 1

Diplomacy Check
1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19

Taking on a slightly caustic tone, playing the role of the harsh doctor rather then the caring nurse.

"Well Crimson, it's a good thing I've little pity for people who throw themselves into the way of a whipping. Now, let me check your wounds so that you don't endanger the ship tomorrow and get the rest of us fresh meat into trouble."

Heal Check to inspect the wounds
1d20 + 8 ⇒ (1) + 8 = 9

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

"Well sweetheart I figure there ain't enough rum on this boat to see such things through but anyways I was talking about what I seen."
Malack scratches his head a bit.
"I suppose I might just like being a pirate for a change. Fresh air, and ahh, well there's fresh air, ya really can't get enough of that now can ya? Plus I'm stuck on a boat with babes like you and a crew of men who stink, got bad teeth, big heads and all the charms of a herd of backed-up oxen. I figure somethings got to give, dang did I just say that last part out loud?"
With slight embarrassment Malack turns his head long enough to see the handaxe throwing contest in full effect. He stands up, bids Quinn adieu and makes his way over to the half-orc. Trying not to look her in the eyes, he says, "Give the little fellas his chance and when he's done I'll be happy to play this little game. What's at stake exactly?"

Male Goblin Rogue (Unchained/Pirate/Scout) 9

Urk smiles, and says "Yer on. Everybodee stand back, as I've neever dun this beforre." He awkwardly hefts up the axe, sticks his tongue out one side and squints, and after a pair of test swings he hurls it towards the barrel.

1d20 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (4) + 5 - 2 = 7 Well drats...

He blows a loud raspberry, and without missing a beats, declares "Ah yes, I 'ave hit the floor over there exactly where I wuz aimin'" Urk bows elaborately and takes the opportunity to look over the gathered sailors for any daggers on their person while they laugh at his terrible throw.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26 What a time to roll a nat 20...

Hah, let 'em laugh at the silly gobbo. I'll turn this to my advantage yet...

"Well, I did lift it over me head, so I guess that silver cancels out the other. Nother try, fer grins?" He looks at Malack and shrugs.

"Cog" grumbles but offers up his arm to Asmodia. Yeah yeah, heard you was a priestess anyhow, so I guess it don't hurt to let you look. The wound is messy, but the cut from the lash was surprisingly clean, and seawater and wind have already began to heal it some. However, if sweat and dirt from the days activity make its way too deeply into the wound time will see it infected over night. Why you on this boat, priestess? He looks up to her. And do you have a name? Your baring is Chelaxian, which is a fearful thing, as the Captain is rumored to hate those from Cheliax more than any other creatures who stand on deck.

Lorelei makes her way over to Asmodia, Cog and the halfling woman. The halfling has been watching the exchange between the healer and the wounded sailor, but looks to the bard when she approaches. You are a bard and a very good one. She says. She glares over at the half orc quartermaster. I'd have been happy to put some music behind your song earlier, but that damned Grok took my fiddle and more. What I wouldn't give to get it back. She mutters, but offers her hand. I'm Rosie Cusswell. Pleased to meet one as talented as you.

Grok frowns a tusky frown when the goblin lifts the handaxe, but smiles in satisfaction when he missed the barrel. Heh heh heh, big talk but tiny throws. She slips him a snaggletooth silver from Drenchport and there is some admiration in her features. She and the gathered sailors then look at Malack as he approaches. You wish to throw the axes, but they are like kernels of corn in your large mitts. Heh heh heh.. She pulls over a harpoon from a nearby rack and hands him one. A silver if you can hit that barrel with the h'poon. A second silver if you can pull it to my feet in a single tug of the line.

DC 10 to hit the barrel. DC 12 STR to pull it over in a single tug.

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 shakes the offered hand. "Nice to meet you Rosie. I guess that Grok has all of my stuff as well. I wonder what it takes to get anything back from her?"

Dark Archive

Female Chelaxian Cleric 1

"Asmodia Voralius is my name, which may answer your question as to where I'm from."

She speaks casually as she examines the wound, concentrating on it.

"Yes, I'm Chelaxian. So I guess I'm next for the lash if I even look as if I'm being disloyal. Wonderful. As for why I'm here.. well, I got press-ganged with these lot." Pointing around the room at Lorelei, Malack, Urk and Sjurd. "Most annoying, given that I was looking for a ship anyway."

"Also, this is going to sting."

Trying to block off the view from the rest of the sailors, Asmodia would take some of her rum and splash it over the messy looking wound, using the alcohol to disinfect it. After which, she'd grab the cloth and hold it firmly around Cog's arm, looking for some string with which to tie it on.

Picture of Rosie Cusswell

Picture of Crimson "Cog" Cogward

Male Goblin Rogue (Unchained/Pirate/Scout) 9

Any results from the perception check? Anybody armed besides miss Grok? Or anything else interesting I might spot?

"Ha! Lady, give the man a REAL challenge!"

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

Though the ship rolls about on the seas beneath a blue sky, the air grows tense as Malack the Accursed bends to his task. Air gushes into his lungs and his heart is like a tribal drum as he hefts the massive harpoon off the ground and into the sky. He holds it there surveying the eyes of all men who look his way. Holding the glance of all that dare to stare within the simmering cauldrons of blue ore that his eyes have become. He lifts one leg and let's his flatulence be his offering to the lords of sky and sea before heaving the missile on its way. Malack turns to look at the halforc, though he finds her appearance revolting, and watches her eyes go wide as the harpoon hits its target.

Strength 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18

Throw 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

In the silence that follows a lone words pierces the air.

Urk notices that the closest sailor to him is wearing a crude knife tucked in his rope belt. The grip is worn from sweat and pressure, but the slightly tarnished blade looks plenty sharp.

Silence, aye. But then an explosion of cheers, hoots and hollers explode from the swabs nearby! Grok is at first stunned, then she nods in approval, and hands Malack a similar silver coin. Well done, pink flesh, you throw like you have a bit of orc in your blood. This is a fine thing to have aboard the ship. She looks him over in appraisal.

Cog and Rosie look over to the commotion as it is hard to ignore. Those two seem to be getting along well with the crew. Rosie quips to Lorelei. They might be doing the best thing possible in regards to getting back their items. Making nice with that ugly half orc.

The distraction is a blessing as Crimson is caught unawares when the rum hits his wound. He hisses back the pain, but allows Asmodia to bind it. He gives her a smirk and a nod of appreciation. I was hoping for something a bit more...magical. Anyway, thanks. Truly. He adds.


As the sun sets over the horizon the crew shuffle back towards their quarters. Though their bodies are weary, their spirits are high from the days activities. Hammocks have been slung up in the cramped holds for the new press ganged sailors and despite the thoughts they may churning in your mind....sleep would claim you like a poisoned drink in the night.


Morning of the second day. The dawn is breaking over the Wormwood and already there is commotion on deck. Voices are raised in anger. Something is wrong..

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

"Guess I should give some thought to making nice with her somehow to then. I'm no great throw with an axe though. Perhaps I can think of something else she may appreciate."


Next morning, just as Lorelei has gotten out of her hammock, she hears the angry voices coming from above deck and strains to make out what is being said. She will go ahead and make her way over to the stairs and head on up herself, because even though she doesn't want to get in the middle of any fight that might be going on up there, she also doesn't want to earn any lashings for being late for duty.

perception 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7

Male Goblin Rogue (Unchained/Pirate/Scout) 9

Hearing the scene on deck, Urk decides to approach quietly and observe from up high, and crawls up into the boat's rigging.

Stealth: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (8) + 12 = 20
Climb: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (10) + 10 = 20

Dark Archive

Female Chelaxian Cleric 1

After a wonderful nights sleep, Asmodia would be woken only by the angry voices coming from above deck. Falling out of her hammock, she'd quickly follow Lorelei up topside, not wanting to be late for duty despite her exhaustion.

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

Malack, quite contented with himself, awakes to the sounds of commotion and alarm. He gets dressed quickly and walks to see what the racket is all about.

The crew and officers have gathered on deck with a new dawn rising over the water. The sails are slack and a ring of hungry gulls is circling the Wormwood in anticipation..

A sailor, bound in rope at wrist and ankle, is looking up at the helm with fear in his eyes. With the sun bright behind him, it is difficult to make out the figure behind the wheel, but the massive silhouette of Captain Harrigan is unmistakable.

Jakes Magpie, ye' have knifed a fellow crewman and stolen what be his. While on board my ship, we do not kill or steal from one another, for our fates be intertwined, as it were. Harrigan takes a step down from the helm, his terrible gaze on the poor swab withering below him.

But I be a merciful Captain, as anyone can attest to. Scourge, lingering close, chuckles darkly at this. You will have a chance at life yet..

Harrigan looks to Plugg and nods. Tie him to the lines and send him beneath the boat from bow to stern. If Mr Magpie should see fit to live through his ordeal, place him in the hotbox for a fortnight. If he is still livin, than Gods damn it, put him back to work.

Jakes blubbers and begs for a different verdict, but Scourge and Plugg (as well as several eager deckhands) have already begun to bind him 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

[i]Well, I guess we're going to be getting a show of the Captain's idea of "mercy" today. It also looks like there are plenty here who are just as eager to see this happen as the Captain is.

If Rosie and Crimson aren't part of the crew that's binding up the poor fellow, Lorelei makes her way over to them and speaks quietly to them. "Do ya'll know anything 'bout what happened with that poor fella there? Seems to be quite a few eager to see him get punished."

Dark Archive

Female Chelaxian Cleric 1

Asmodia, while taking in the morning breeze and bright sun, would look to see who's staying back from the keelhauling, and who's eager to get involved.

Further, working on the assumption that everyone would be on deck for this, she'd try and count exactly how many people are onboard.

Male Goblin Rogue (Unchained/Pirate/Scout) 9

Hmm, well, I guess I best keep on me best behavior

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

1d20 ⇒ 11
Malack will try to gather information about this fella.

Male Goblin Rogue (Unchained/Pirate/Scout) 9

Finding the scene somewhat uncomfortable, Urk makes his way to his post up top. Well, I s'pose if he really did go and stab his crew mate, he's earned a harsh punishment. But I don't know 'bout that sweatbox deal. Seems more like sadism...

All of the members who have recently been press ganged (including Cog, Rosie and Quinn) stand to the sides as the grisly scene plays out. Their faces are a mixture of confusion, anger and fear. Magpie is bound to a rope that runs the length of the ship and circles under it beneath the waves. Poor Jakes is tossed off the front of the vessel head first into the water and the surging motion of the Wormwood catches him in her passing and plunges him close against the hull.

Plugg, Scourge and several others make their way to the back of the boat...the long length of rope slowly making its way back around again.

Foot by bloody foot the rope is pulled back in and what remains is too savaged and torn to be recognizable any more.

Scourge chuckles as he cuts the corpse free of the line and boots it over into the churning sea below.

Seems the ship be needin' a good under' cleanin' Cap'N. Scourge chuckles. Them barnacles ate'em up like the teeth of a tiger shark, they did.

Harrigan does not look to Scourge or the others. His eyes are looking out over the crew.

Let this be a lesson to all of you. He turns and returns to his cabin.


The sailors slowly move away from the grisly scene and go about small and simple tasks. With Scourge and Plugg preoccupied, the crew has some time to themselves. People eat, drink, look to the sky. Some mutter under their breath and others make the sign of Besmara over their hearts.

For the first time since arriving on the Wormwood you aren't being watched. Freedom, a rum sweet taste of freedom, if for but an hour or so is yours...

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

Malack strolls over to Quinn and says, "Just who was that there fella? Also what do you reckon we could do to improve our situation here? We got ourselves a little bit of time."

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

If Quinn doesn't have much to say, Malack would like to do a thorough search of the boat and figure out the basic layout of rooms and what is in them.

Dark Archive

Female Chelaxian Cleric 1

Muttering under her breath, Asmodia would move up to the side of the ship after the remains of Jakes were tossed overboard, speaking in a solemn tone that was loud enough to be heard by anyone nearby.

"We commit his body to the sea, in the hopes that he might find his eternal rewards in the world beyond, be in in the Pirate Queen's embrace or whomever he followed in life."

Then, quietly.

"Sorry about the lack of treasure.. I'll see what I can do later."

Following on from her service, Asmodia would look around to see where the Quartermaster was, with a mind to getting her healers kit back.

Sandara looks to Malack with frustration on her face. I don't know much about the man. A simple sailor who ran into trouble. That can be a common thing on ships like this, but the Captain is harsh when it comes to discipline. She watches Scourge douse the bloody deck with a bucket of salt water trying to wash it clean. Maybe harsh isn't the word...

Asmodia utters a few words to Besmara and looks around for Grok. She is over with the other officers. It would seem, for a canny and skilled group, the perfect opportunity to try and recover their items.

However, one glance at the pink and frothy water sloshing around the deck...all that remains of poor Jakes Magpie...proves that getting caught would be a painful lesson indeed.

But here, on the open seas serving under the ship of a mad man, what isn't foolhardy and deadly?

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

Malack will grab Urk and walk towards the quartermaster's room. If other party members are interested he will gather them too.
" We won't get many chances green one. I need you to get in there and grab our stuff. I want my sword and armor. I'm sure the rest of us need something too. Pick weapons over armor. Be quick and quiet friend. I'll keep watch."

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

Malack will put on his brass knuckles but keep his hands behind his back.

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

singing 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (9) + 8 = 17

Lorelei will speak quietly to the others after Malack gathers them. "If you like, I can try singing a song or two while Urk is being sneaky. Might give him a bit of a distraction you know."

If that idea is met with approval, Lorelei will start up another song as she works after she has moved far away from where Urk will be sneaking. She'll pick a ballad about a lusty pirate captain and a beautiful mermaid.

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

"Well lass that would be most welcome. Be sure to sing it later to cause I ain't sure I heard that one and sounds like my kinda thing."

If Asmodia is interested in helping, she could keep a direct eye on the officers and preemptively come to warn Malack if they start to move in the direction of the quartermaster's cabin.
Also anything specific things people want should be stated now. And we need to figure out where we are going to hide this stuff.
[ooc] No Sjurd? [/occ]

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

"Hey Lorelei, you might be a spot better with words than my ugly mug, maybe you could convince Quinn or Crimson Cogward to help us out."

Male Goblin Rogue (Unchained/Pirate/Scout) 9

After a second of instinctually gnawing on Malack's forearm when the big guy grabs him, Urk gives him an look nod and says, "Yeff ah f'pove urr righ...," at which point he removes his mouth from the man's arm. "Yes, I s'pose yer right... but I'll tell ye right now, if it goes all wonky, I'm jumpin' straight off o this boat before they kin do that to me. Normuhlee, I 'spect to have many miles availeebul for me ta run in multiple die-rek-shuns when I do my theivin. But on me honor as a goblin what has been raised by faeries, ah will do me best." And he scuttles off towards the quartermaster's room.

Bein' stealthy: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (8) + 12 = 20

Dark Archive

Female Chelaxian Cleric 1

"You're wanting to get weapons? That's a quick way to a keelhauling if they find those on you, Malack. I'll keep an eye out though."

In order to look busy, Asmodia would move over to Cog again and ask to check on his arm while keeping an eye on the officers, in particular the quartermaster.

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

"Well I figure that between my mouth and my ass, somethings going to come out that disagrees with the captain, so I might as well just beat that rotten s.o.b. to the punch and put a yard a steel in his head."

Lorelei's song begins to draw several sailors over who are mixed with various emotions. The beautiful bard's voice seems to sooth their concerns for awhile.

More importantly, it draws much of the focus away from Malack and Urk who make their way towards the Quartermaster's room and hold..

Cog pats the barrel beside him for Asmodia to sit and lets her have his arm. Bloody terrible business, that keelhaulin', but It serves him right. You don't stab the men and women who help keep you on the water. He looks the cleric over with the corner of his eye. What do you think about it?

The officers seem to be arguing, but Plugg calms them with a raise of his hand. Their conversation continues.

Urk's feet pitter-patter cross the wooden decks until he reaches Grok's door. He sticks to the shadows and the places behind rope and barrel to stay out of sight.

Malack, if you are attempting to come along and want to try and blend in or stay out of sight, lets see a Stealth check.

Grok's door is locked, but it doesn't seem complex.

Male Goblin Rogue (Unchained/Pirate/Scout) 9

Sidling up to the door, Urk has a look at the lock, and makes a quick check for any trap triggers. He pulls out the thieve's tools that he had gotten from Quinn, and sets about getting himself inside.

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16
Disable Device: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16 On the lock, unless I find a trap. EDIT:Probably doesn't matter, I don't think a 16 will open ANY lock...

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

Malack will try to keep watch by blending in near the area.
Stealth check 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16

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