Calloran launches into a tirade of his own, emboldened perhaps foolishly by his mental superiority and cunning. "It didn't come from thin air, in that you are correct. Likewise, it didn't come from a wand. We are wasting valuable time here. I work with a new form of magic, descended from the craft of artificers. That is from whence the boom came. I promise you, no matter what happens, none but me can POSSIBLY gain utility of such on this ship. Suffer us with no more complaints, no more questions, no more attacks, as nothing productive can come from it. I've committed no crime, even from the crimes listed among pirates. You have taken my wealth, you have taken my time, this I can abide. I will not be assaulted and then questioned in my reaction."
Kree decides saying nothing is preferable to opening her mouth, and hopes that perhaps she is not included with the rest of those involved with the affray.
I slip back, standing somewhat behind Calloran - such that, hopefully, I can retain good standing with the officers, but still ready to support him should the matter come to blows...
SO ye think we tolerate insubordination round this ship welp?
With that Scourge raises his whip and strikes Calloran across the face...
attack
damage
Calloran remains silent, the pain of the whip pale in comparison to the surgeries he has undergone. A slight, if maniacal, grin curls the corner of his mouth.
"No, commander," I say. "We'll follow your lead, to great piles of treasure, and work hard to earn our cut. We're grateful for this opportunity. She's your ship, your seamanship to sail her, and your tactical acumen to pick the fattest, easiest targets. You deserve the shark's share, and we'll win it for you." I pause. "We won't be pushed around by deckhands with ideas above their station. It's your place to command us, and you're in it for good reason."
Sense motive
That's right lassy, now get to work all of you!
Also I would like everyone to post up in the discussion thread concerning daily job checks, I plan to address all your concerns/questions there.
Kree is pushed to work at repairing the ship, but her feral nature and unschooled state leaves her poorly placed to succeed, despite her mystic prescience.
= Repairs - DC 10 Profession (sailor) or Dexterity.
[+1 Dex, +1 Second Sight]
I scurry to the kitchen, and, upon learning Kroop's plan is for turtle soup, I set about hunting down the required meat...
"sobriety"
Calloran goes about his duties half-assedly, spending a good deal of his time cleaning up odd debris from previous battles, hooks and assorted metalwork that those repairing the ship leave strewn about, and pieces of wood and rope that get in the way.
perception
Unfortunately for both Kree and and Calloran Scourge locates both of them and flogs them publicly, much to the laughter of the pirates aboard... You see the fat, pig faced man in the rigging jeering as the whip strikes into flesh.
damage (non lethal)
Calloran internalizes his anger, thinking forward to the time he can rest his tired and welted body.
I shudder, softly. Discipline aboard ship is as brutal as it is erratic. A rein of terror has its uses, of course, but I don't credit Scrounge and his fellow self-styled 'officers' with the wit to have selected and implemented the plan. More likely, their cruelty brings about the brutality, whilst their natural laziness is the cause of the randomness that makes it so terribly effective.
Still, it is undeniably effective, and for now I've little choice but to fall into line like a good little thrall, much as it galls me to do so.
Kree gives no joy to the assembled pirates by trying to stoically contain her pain. She cries in undisguised anguish. She spits out blood from biting her own mouth and moans as she is pulled down from her punishment.
So. A prison this truly be. A vessel of pain and suffering. Store it up, Kree. And return it to this Scourge as and when you can...
Calloran lays down, resting his body. When most of the crew are good and drunk, Calloran finds a quiet place to maintain his inventions, and creates more to make up for those lost.
Although he has only scraps to work with, Calloran's mind races with frenzied insight. Applying the basics of applied arcanomagnetics, he puts together some special shrapnel grenades that will help if he is attacked again. On the same note, he creates a little defensive sphere that ought to give his attackers pause when it unfolds into a mass of spinning ingots and bladed shavings. Both are small and easily concealed. He continues on to maintain his thundershot, displeased with its earlier malfunction.
While the new inventions are certainly not the fiery death that he wished upon these pirates, they would help him survive another day.
For now Drahzar is waiting, no sense rushing into anything.
Kree winces and lies down on her front, wishing for salt (however painful that might be) to cleanse her scourged flesh. She watches Calloran with undisguised interest, but says nothing. His work surpasses her understanding.
Despite his size, it's not hard to find the gnome Conchobhar. "I'm sorry," I murmur, "I think we got off on the wrong foot before, a little. Tell me something about yourself?" I smile.
Diplomacy, being friendly and making friends.
Curious about the human with a Warforged arm, Barnacle follows Calloran around.
" Did you make your arm, human? Or did you take it from one of my brethren? I am not offended, mind you, merely curious."
Having had no difficulties during his assignment for the day, he feels rather energetic, and remains active and watchful, for a while into the night. After watching Cal work on his gear, he sits near the mast and remains motionless, just absorbing his environment.
"A bit of both" the tired mechanic replies. "Lost mine, found a left-over and modified it. Didn't chop it off any of your kind."
@Torviir, the gnome is still quite friendly...like a puppy.
vs DC 10
vs DC 10
work diligently for a +4. guess that goes to acrobatics
gotta be honest, this whole job check thing is getting pretty lame. forcing us to make checks daily, often using skills that no one picked (or ability checks in which the best of us has a +3 or 4), with adverse consequences upon failure is pretty lame. it is all luck of the dice: you win, nothing good happens; you lose, something bad happens.
randomly choosing what job you get is ridiculous. having actual crafting skills, there is no reason my character wouldn't be assigned according to his skill. there was a climbing skill check in the beginning, and no other sort of skill check to differentiate the rest of us.
we are on day 3 and no real development has occurred. the members of the ship are largely hostile, and we have no external enemy.
there is seriously no reason my character wouldn't just cut a huge hole in the hull of the ship.
although i took the "work diligently" action in this daytime so i wouldnt fail my checks, there is no character reason for Calloran to do so.
Taking his time re-splicing and repairing ropes and sails, Barnacle examines his surrounding on the main deck. Noticing where things are placed and what doors lead where...
He seems to be in his element as the ropes and sails mend most easily for him.
Of all her fellow swabs, the woman "Badger" Medlar is the only one Kree feels any sort of fellow feeling for, mostly due to a bestial aesthetic. The shifter has no time to begin any sort of bonding. Kree knuckles down and though she would like to check out the ship further she manages to make her days work useful and without incident.
1 Man the Bilges: Vile and sweaty work cleaning out the
bilges (area A11), requiring a DC 12 Strength check.
The PC must also make a DC 10 Constitution check to
avoid being fatigued at the end of the shift.
Daytime activity:
Work Diligently: Gain a +4 bonus on any one check for a
job’s daily task -
It's turtle stew again, its seems, and I set to work diligently to hunt the necessary meat...
...and it's a disaster. I grow more and more panicked, as the day passes. But by midafternoon, its clear it's a disaster. I slip away from the side of the ship, and seek out Qui. "Qui, help," I beg. "I can't catch the turtles, and I don't want to be flogged..."
The shifter listens to the drow's plea. Her mind is intrigued while her heart is torn. The ripped flesh on her back still pains her, as does the memory of the scourging lash. But the drow has actively asked her for help. Kree's shallowness swells at the thought that someone seeks her aid, thinks she has some ability to effect restitution or power to right errors. She does not even pause.
"If we do this thing - you owe me. I can only offer to take the blame - make it seem as if I made this bad or fix things quickly for you - and hope I somehow escape any punishment..."
"If not, I will cry again. For you. My friend."
Rigger task lookout
Taking 10 to climb to the crow's nest.
Perception
Drahzar spends the day in the crow's nest doing a barely acceptable job.
"That's not what I meant," I blurt. "Aren't you some kind of super-trapper? Can't you just... catch some?"
sobriety (sober)
Kree smiles wanly, at least gladdened the Drow thinks of her so highly.
" Here am I dripping with shipslime. I'm tired. And weary. And sore. But I will do what I can…"
I see Ire's options in the post above - is there anything Kree can still attempt on this day, albeit at a penalty or risk of fatigue to help Ire?
Overhearing the talk between Ire and Kree, Barnacle drops his head and looks at the rope net he has just repaired.
These pirates are unjust and not deserving of this fine vessel. My companions are not here by choice, and should be trained to care for her. Not bullied about by these Lackwits...
He will then undo the repairs he has completed, and take the unraveling net to the cook....
"Human! Preparer of foods! It seems my work was not good enough on this net. The turtles that the dark skinned human woman caught got away when the repairs failed. I will attempt to repair it again."
With that he takes the net back up to the deck.
"Thank you," I whisper, wrapping my arms around Barnacle in a brief embrace as he assists me. "Is there anything you need me to do in your stead?"
Standing stiff and uncomfortable, Barnacle has no idea how to respond to the hug.
" No Lady. But we should be allies. These pirates are slothful and unworthy of this vessel. We may have to make a change of command at some point..."