Whosi Blackface |
Fixed; fixed yea says yea swabs, but I gots deez plans; ooh plans; <starts whipping or drawing and notes> wheeer iz our catapults; our spear chuckers or wenches an longtooth boats...our dragon belchers
whoosi's eyes alight with dreams of pointy chucky things all over the ship; Ank-hores message gets through....
well, we first kin check him fer loot
Whoosi starts checking the body over for loot, clues; maps tattoed on his head or bottom of his feet.
Our Mysterious Benefactor |
Any last preparations before we hit port? If not, I'll post the next Chapter starting post tomorrow!
Our Mysterious Benefactor |
Whosi searches the dead sailor with, ahem, thoroughness, but does not find anything worthwhile. It would seem that the sailor had no eaten in some time and his stomach contents reflect that.
Meanwhile Ank-hore tries his hand at haruspicy, swirling the entrails about until they seem to tell a story.
Unfortunately that story is a rather sordid tale of entrails in love, entrails at war and entrails at dusk. Well, mostly just entrails. Still, he almost fancies he can see something else in there...
Wisdom check, Ank-hore.
By the time night rolls around, the hurricane is behind you and the faint lights of Tashket are before you. Several large fires demarcate the line of the harbor and song can be heard on the wind, as well as the smell of roasting fish and other savory treats. You can easily see a dock that is less well lit than the others, perhaps owing to its being partially under construction, that might make a suitable place to set aground.
Or of course, you could run the ship aground if you choose right in the middle of town.
Or you could weigh anchor just outside the harbor and take the ship's boat to land.
What shall you do?
Our Mysterious Benefactor |
Ank-hore peers deep into the entrails and sees...
The lights of Tashket draw nearer and the Captains can see that if they plan to drop anchor, they'll need to do it soon to avoid notice.
Our Mysterious Benefactor |
Upon Crang's order, the nearest goblin jumps to action: he immediate grabs the cleric and begins to drag him to the railing, clearly with the intent to toss him overboard.
Our Mysterious Benefactor |
The confused goblin puts Ank-hore down and makes his way over to the anchor. Seeing Splurg's affirmative, he shrugs, picks it up and walks it over to the edge of the ship. Holding it tight he lifts it up and promptly leaps over the edge, still holding onto the anchor. A few bubbles rise to the surface of the water, then cease.
Whosi Blackface |
looky hears slobs and gobs; wees in trouble soon; that Haiy Pain is a blowin our way; weez gotsta take all da sails down; batten da hatches; aint no wimpy Anger gonna hold us on place; can weez take da ship under again; be pleanty safe me thinks under da water da wind canna blow none too strong. Den we can creep ashor from under waters maybe like water snake out huntin fer a tidbit; what says yea? Shee's a good ship with a right beaut fer a lady on the mizzen; dont wann no hard to come ta her
Our Mysterious Benefactor |
The ship is secured, the anchor goblin seems to be holding steady. The hurricane is stationary; you've sailed through it with surprisingly little difficulty. The lights of Tashket are starting to diminish as people blow out lamps and head to bed. The sounds of carousing can still be heard from a few dockside pubs, but even these seem to be disappearing. A thin fog is starting to form over the water, which may help to mask your approach.
Whosi Blackface |
alright; which won oven youse magic wankers is funnin me? I aint drank enough ta be seein things....yet
whosi, shivers and wiggles with the heebeegeebeez; then gives the mages and clerics a hairy eyeball thinkin they are spellin him fun like he tries to click off on his fingers if he ate any of THOSE mushroom; got conked on the head; to close to an explosion; sniffed some funny vapors....
---
so what kind of town is this apparently; what kind of peeps live here; all wood contruction?
Our Mysterious Benefactor |
Tashket is a solid small town. Most of the buildings are two-story, with the first story made of stone and the second story made of wood. There are what appear to be tents on some of the flat roofs. The climate is quite warm and humid; these could be rooftop beds. Strangely there doesn't seem to be any churches, but there is a large stone building in the center of town with a domed roof. Of course the docks are mostly wood and several low stone buildings sit along the harbor; music and sounds of carousing can be heard from these.
Our Mysterious Benefactor |
Whenever you're ready, I'll need a Stealth check from each of you, as well as a description of who is going, how many gobs you're taking, where you're aiming to leave the boat and in what manner you plan to proceed into town.
Splurg |
1d20 + 11 ⇒ (18) + 11 = 29Splurg stealth
1d20 + 11 ⇒ (14) + 11 = 25Spots stealth
Spots and I will take some of the more animal friendly groups to liberate teh pigs horses etc. starting at the inn, we would like to take Gutbucket and his kitchen crew so he can raid for stores and maybe set up a goblin kitchen in the "castle"(inn). Leave the boat underneath the docks if there is one since we are short
Whosi Blackface |
a couple of spot and stealth rolls as needed. Am of mind to check out the village and look for some places of interest to visit that dont have occupants after I scope out the situation
Spot
1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11
1d20 + 9 ⇒ (11) + 9 = 20
Stealth
1d20 + 19 ⇒ (3) + 19 = 22
1d20 + 19 ⇒ (6) + 19 = 25
Our Mysterious Benefactor |
The ship's boat is launched and the goblin rowers begin to make their way toward the land.
Where would you like to put aground?
Our Mysterious Benefactor |
With uncharacteristic silence that comes of knowing that mayhem is shortly to be unleashed, the goblin boat rows beneath the docks. A rope is quickly tied and as one you all swarm up the wet wood to the docks above. A small leaning hut sits at the dock's edge. A lit in on inside and a drunken man's singing can be heard over the sound of muffled carousing from the bars and the wet slap of waves on the dock.
"Ohhhh, a happy sailor's a miserable sot, his bunkmates all hate him, his capt'n's besot, his sea-wife's a terror, his ropes never knot, let's tip him o'er the side and draw up his lots! Ohhh, tie me down, lads, tie me down, boys! Me berries are itchin', me sausage's annoyed!"
With your stealth rolls, you are able to get right up the Harbormaster's hut and the bars if you'd like. Let your mayhem fly, lads!
Our Mysterious Benefactor |
Whosi slips into the Harbormaster's hut like a shadow, sliding along the wall and keeping low and out of sight. He spots a small lockbox, sitting next to the fat Harbormaster on a low table. The Harbormaster is clearly drunk, reclining on a wooden chair tilted back on two legs and holding an unlabelled bottle of something strong and pungent. He's older, fat and bald, his shirt untucked and stained and his boots wears in places. Whosi moves to the lockbox and manages to lift it off the table without a sound and is making his way back to the door when five goblins, led by Crang erupt into the room.
"And whass this? <HIC> Here's a bunch of little men with little knives bouncin' into me hut. Well now little men: I'm not nearly drunk enough to deal wit' the likes o' you right now. Go away and come back after I've finished me next bottle. Or pull ups a chair and drink a toast to me health and long life with me, eh?" The Harbormaster drunkenly grabs another unlabelled corked bottle from the table next to him and tosses it to Crang, who looks to be in charge. The other goblins all pause, their confused faces looking toward Crang for guidance.
Our Mysterious Benefactor |
The liquor inside is at first sweet, then burns as it goes down your gullet. The Harbormaster smiles and raises his bottle. "Indeed, hallucination! I buy that from a man wit'out teeth. Best drunk you ever had, I tells ye. Burns in the belly, keeps a man warm through the night. Better'n women or wine, b'far. Got me through four wives, three ships sinkin' and nine ungrateful children. Here's ta a life well-lived! Cheers!" He takes a long pull from the bottle.
Our Mysterious Benefactor |
Splurg moves into town, noticing that while the bars are hopping, the rest of town seems to be asleep. You pass a few inns, but by far the largest building in town seems to be some sort of church or temple, but has no recognizable religious symbols on it; all it has is an outline of a man. Still it's two stories tall, made entirely of stone and features an impressive dome. Its doors are open and light spills out from it, though it is silent.
The gobs break into small groups, heading off to commit the usual atrocities. As Splurg approaches the large stone building, he can hear sudden shouts, screams and the jubilant songs of goblin rage, as well as see and smell burning as fires flare up through the town.
Our Mysterious Benefactor |
The last remaining goblins with Splurg all gulp and look at each other for a moment, before charging into the dome.
Inside, the dome is huge and two stories tall. In the center, movable chairs sit facing a massive stage that dominates one side of the dome. On the opposite side, doors lead to several smaller rooms, that look like meeting rooms or offices.
On stage, a fearsome sight looms! A knight clad in shining plate wields a burning sword in battle against a gigantic fire-breathing dragon! The two foes face each other silently, but pause as the goblins race into the dome. A voice issues from the dragon:
"Earl, did you order any kids to dress up as goblins for this show?"
Our Mysterious Benefactor |
The knight shakes his head. "Not me, Stefan. But I got to say, it's very good make-up!"
As the dragon and knight peer at the gobs, a thin, foppish looking elf in a bright blue beret stomps onto the stage. "I TOLD YOU TO SHADOW BOX, NOT TO TALK ABOUT GOBLINS! THIS PLAY WILL BE A FIASCOOOOOO IF YOU DON'T AT LEAST GET THE METAPHORICAL DRAGON BATTLE DOWN. I mean, really, you two, how will the people understand the struggle of the common man versus the ruinations of religion and false idolatry if they don't a knight fighting the dragon? It's simple preeeeeeposterous the sort of trouble you so-called actors give me an artiste like myself... Simple PREPOSTEROUS!" The elf stops, his head in his hand dramatically and turns back toward the audience. He pauses, peering at the goblins. "And WHO IS THIS?!? I CANNOT WORK WITH ALL THESE INTERRUPTIONS. OUT! OUT I SAY!"
Crang |
The liquor inside is at first sweet, then burns as it goes down your gullet. The Harbormaster smiles and raises his bottle. "Indeed, hallucination! I buy that from a man wit'out teeth. Best drunk you ever had, I tells ye. Burns in the belly, keeps a man warm through the night. Better'n women or wine, b'far. Got me through four wives, three ships sinkin' and nine ungrateful children. Here's ta a life well-lived! Cheers!" He takes a long pull from the bottle.
No teef, aye, I know no-teef.
Crang burps loudly: Good booze. No more sharin'
Crang pushes the man over, takes any bottles he can find, and goes outside: grinning from ear to ear.
Doing his bes pirate impression, he bellows Abash, me farties!
Our Mysterious Benefactor |
With a surprised "Whoaa!", the man goes over, falling hard against the hut's walls and letting out a huge belch as he does. Crang grabs the remaining two bottles of rotgut and heads outside. Once outside he can see the city is starting to erupt in chaos as goblins run to and fro, carrying burning torches and screaming lewd songs. In the distance, Splurg can be seen disappearing into a large domed stone building...