SR's - Great Southern Isles (PbP) (Inactive)

Game Master stormraven

High-Power Pathfinder Homespun Game

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Rat Bastard

To avoid any confusion for possible future lurkers...
This is a relatively strict Pathfinder PbP homespun sandbox game with characters built on 50 points, limited Gestalt.
For additional rules and interesting bits, see the OOC thread.
Right! Paperwork done... on to the game!

Welcome to the Great Southern Islands campaign and thanks for playing!

You dream... You dream of flying or perhaps tumbling through turbulent clouds at the heart of a storm.

Your first waking breath, sucking in the bitter taste of seawater, causes you to choke and rouses you fully. Your head, throbbing with pain, is slow to register the salient fact - you aren't flying, you are drowning! Your body tumbles out of control - spinning through churning, frothy, violent, and black water - the surface nowhere in sight. You strike out in the general direction of what you believe is the surface...

Swim checks with a -2 for disorientation, please.
Perception checks with a -5 for Ushari and Jayse (due to their lack of lowlight vision).
Also, you have all suffered 2 points of non-lethal damage.

Straehan Swim 1d20 + 0 - 2 ⇒ (19) + 0 - 2 = 17 disorientation
Strae Perception 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (4) + 7 = 11

Apparently the dice reader has gone belly up... In preview, Strae's Swim was 11 and Perception 19

Swim check 1d20 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (18) + 5 - 2 = 21 disorientated
Perception check 1d20 + 7 - 5 ⇒ (20) + 7 - 5 = 22 vision

Perception 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20
Swim 10 + 7 - 2 = 15 take 10 (water child)


dot... and switch.
Yes, it's the same avatar.. get over it!

Perception 1d20 + 8 - 5 ⇒ (10) + 8 - 5 = 13.
Swim 1d20 + 8 - 2 ⇒ (4) + 8 - 2 = 10.

Rat Bastard

1d2 ⇒ 2

Ushari Acrobatics 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (17) + 10 = 27

Ushari speeds upward and breaches the water's surface like a trident thrown from the hand of some vast sea God! The spent air explodes from her lungs in relief... until the 8' storm-whipped swell slams into her and sets her tumbling again amid spars of wood, tattered canvas, tangled rope, and the broken remains of cargo crates and splintered barrels. She dextrously manages to avoid being dashed against the flotsam, swim-crawling over, around, and under a torrent of bone-crushing wood. She makes it clear of the impaling obstacle course to a spot of water and latches onto a modest chunk of hull remnant. Aside from coughing up more water, she is none the worse for wear.

Fin, seemingly at home in the water, heads to the surface at a measured pace. She takes the time to look around and notices that some strange creature is following a parallel course to the surface and is still a ways below her. At this distance, in the churned up conditions, it is impossible to make out details but it appears to be some sort of large jellyfish - with a bloated 'head', a thin central region, and a large billowing mantle. Her air running a bit thin, she swims the last few feet to the surface. It is a moonless night and would be dark as a coal pit if not for her lowlight vision. The only illumination is from churned up luminescent plankton and the brief flashes of lightning receding into the distance. While assessing the rough conditions on the surface, Fin sees a small human woman swimming deftly, like an eel, through a flood of dangerous, fast moving debris. Her agility is impressive especially since the woman must be all but blind in these conditions. Fin swims for the chunk of wood the woman is angling towards knowing that on the open ocean, there is safety in numbers.

From the depths... the sea creature rises, near the 'raft' of wood. It is like no sea creature Fin or Ushari have ever seen. It looks like nothing so much as a traveler's backpack with a large air bubble in it and a strap that appears to be wound around the kicking leg of a small child who is now wearing much of his or her robe around his or her head. With the thrashing of the 'creature', it becomes quite clear that is exactly what it is. With a little help from Fin, the creature is righted and appears to be nothing more than an odd looking gnome who had the fortune or misfortune of getting tangled in a backpack and hauled by it unceremoniously upside-down to the surface. Dignity restored, the gnome tries to thank Fin for the assistance but it becomes clear very quickly that in addition to the deafening sounds of the storm, you are all suffering from some mild hearing loss. You mime words but in the darkness, surging water, and sea spray it is impossible to communicate at the moment.

The storm howls, lashing the ocean into 5' to 15' swells. The only other thing that can be heard is the protestations of the wooden flotsam as it is methodically punished and pulverized by the unrelenting waves which grind piece against piece rending all of it into nothing more than kindling. All you can do is hang on to the one decent sized portion of the hull that seems to have escaped most of the storm's fury but even that the storm threatens to tear from your grip...

Ushari and Straehan have their backpacks. You all have your weapons, pouches, and gear that is normally on your person. Any non-metal armor is on as well. It appears that you all hastily donned your weapons when 'whatever' happened. You are all suffering from some memory loss in addition to headaches and partial deafness so no reflecting on your back stories yet and no conversations due to deafness for the moment. I will clarify that in an upcoming post.

Down below... Jayse strikes for the surface only to find he is sinking! He feels a tangle of rope tighten around his calf. He looks down and can dimly make out the rope stretching into the darkness attached to something large and heavy, possibly a crate. With a burst of strength he tries to break for the surface - to no avail. While he stops sinking, he isn't rising any.

Jayse, you have the equipment described above - minus the backpack. What would you like to do?


I guess I know which way is down…

The thought registers among a storm of sensations and emotions, but Jayse is quick to act, self-preservation being a strong motivator. His hand finds its way down his free leg to the comforting feel of a knife's hilt sticking out of his boot. His hands move quicker than thought, drawing the knife and beginning the sawing motion to cut the rope.

Please cut! Please cut! Please cut…

Dagger 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (9) + 4 = 13.
Damage 1d4 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 = 8.

If that works…
Swim 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25.

Rat Bastard

As soon as he stops swimming to hold position, Jayse sinks like a stone attached to the weight at the end of the rope. He curls up to grab his blade and get close enough to the knot around his leg to cut carefully. He spins slowly as he is pulled down into the depths. The crushing blackness starts to press on his ears as he begins to cut at the mass of rope. He cuts through two of the tightest cords and still the remaining knots holds him as the weight draws him down. He picks a third rope, by feel, for now there is no light, only a vice-like darkness that squeezes his chest trying to force the last bit of breath from his lungs. He cuts it and with a whiplash snap he shoots upward as the weight drops away. He pulls for his life, swimming as hard as he can...

Jayse shoots from the water, sucking in a huge lungful of air. Even the raging storm seems like a pleasant alternative to the descent he was facing. After taking another generous lungful of air and seawater, he makes towards the single 'raft' he can dimly see and the survivors that appear to be sharing it... They are a small human woman, a tall elven woman, and a male gnome.

Everyone, especially the gnome, is having difficulty hanging on to the raft which is really a remnant of ship hull. Straehan crawls awkwardly onto a portion of it and looks through the backpack crushed against his chest. He seems unfamiliar with the contents. He pulls out a coiled silk rope, smiling. He ties an end of it loosely around his waist before tossing the rest of the coil over to the small woman who ties herself off and adds a knot around one of the broken 'ribs' that holds the raft together. And so the rope is passed among the four survivors securing each to the raft and strengthening the raft itself.

Your deafness recedes slowly, ironically making the storm seem louder even though it is starting to lose strength. Still you can't speak to your compatriots, so you ride out the storm and your minds drift to what fragments you can remember of your lives...

You don't know what has brought this to mind, maybe the shocking effect of the sea spray in your face, but you clearly recollect a feeling of exhilaration as you danced along rooftops and narrow beams among a sea of high, multi-level buildings. You realise, with sharp clarity that you were an exceptional acrobat and a common thief in a vast city. Looking at yourself through these fresh eyes though, divorced from the person you were, you find the idea of being a burglar vaguely repellent. You wonder if maybe you should change your career or at least put your thievery skills to better use. This is the crisis that drives you towards your gestalt choice.

As you bob in the water, your brain starts to rapidly assess the materials you have at hand and how best to create a usable raft.
It strikes you all of a sudden, that you are very familiar with boats and sailing for these ideas come unbidden into your mind. But the tumult of the waves and the sound of the sea is unfamiliar; you are fairly certain you've never seen an ocean before. Adding to your confusion about how you could be a sailor but unfamiliar with the ocean is a general sense of sadness at the thought of boats... as if some memory of a traumatic incident around a boat is resting just below the surface of your mind.

Among the debris swirling around you, the sound of splintering timbers triggers a memory for you - the sound of wood breaking and a sensation of falling. You ponder this only briefly as the tall Elven woman draws your attention. For some reason, for which you see no logical justification, you feel a sense of suspicion about Elves. Since you see no justification for it, you don't have to act on it... you just realise that something from your past said "Elves are suspicious".

Compared to the struggles of everyone else, you realise you are very much at home in the water. Even in this storm, there is something comforting about being in the ocean. You distantly recall the roar of an ocean and a fondness for it. But clearing the remaining water from your mouth and feeling the level of buoyancy, you quickly realise the salinity of the water is somehow wrong. It is with iron-clad certainty that you know this is not your ocean.

Watching the struggles and awkward, ungraceful shiftings of the two human survivors, you realise their movements seem foreign to you as if you are unfamiliar with them - not as individuals, but as a species. You think these are some of the first humans you have ever seen. Along with that realisation comes the vague feeling, bubbling just below the surface of your mind, that humans as a race bother you in some way - and it seems wound around a memory of screaming. In an unconscious act of comfort or resolve, your hand slips to touch the hilt of the bastard sword you carry. It seems, at once, familiar and strange...
In game terms, while you have a vague distrust of humans in general, you can overcome it on an individual basis by interacting positively with folks. So you don't need to always be leery of the team once you get to know them a bit.

Despite the storm, you learn that you are clearly a strong swimmer and this conjures a memory for you of swimming for hours during long summer evenings. In a flash, you know that you grew up on an island but not a tropical one; you recall snow falling and piling on a windswept beach, its perfect white stained with blood...

The creaking of the wood at hand draws your mind in a different direction. You recall the smell of oiled wood and the feeling of your bare feet slapping against it. You were being trained rigorously for something but you feel certain they were training more than your body. Your mind was being prepared as well. Even now, you realise how ordered your mind is, easily compartmentalizing information, sensations, and impressions for later use. Something in the process of reflecting on the workings of your own mind brings other impressions into your head. Your community was isolated, possibly because they wanted it that way or possibly because they were ostracized. Something called The Secret separates your people from other humans.

In game terms - you remember your names but even those take a moment to initially recall. You know your classes, abilities, feats, and skills. These you may know either because they are 'muscle memory' or as surprises to you which you can RP as it pleases you. Jayse, for instance, 'discovered' he is a great swimmer when he made that second roll to get to the surface. Or you might decide your character doesn't remember she speaks Ignan until she hears the language for the first time. Your memories, aside from the snatches in the spoilers, are a complete mystery. As you move through the adventures, your memories will return in spurts related to things you experience - just like in the spoilers. Naturally, if you decide to investigate your past, you will learn more quickly but that isn't a driving force in these adventures unless you want it to be. There are bigger mysteries out there. :)

The Raft is approximately 5' by 12', allowing three of you to sit on it in relative comfort particularly if the gnome is one of the three since he takes up less space. The link if Tripod is dickish -

It is another 3 or 4 tense hours before the storm fully passes by leaving you in almost calm seas. The clouds clear out, revealing a breathtaking moonless night with tens of thousands of stars providing the humans with a bit of light, enough to make out the features of their compatriots. Even your hearing returns to normal.

All non-lethal damage is healed. It is approximately 2AM. Feel free to introduce yourselves, provide physical descriptions if you like, reveal as little or as much of your spoilers as you wish, RP, etc. Note - Each of you assumes you are the only one suffering from memory loss. Also, while your muscle memory tells you where your weapons are, belt pouch and backpack contents are unknown at this point.
Jayse, as you get enough light to see by, you notice that you have a series of complicated tattoos on your hands - palm, back, and fingers. They appear to be a combination of symbols and, you feel certain, a language.

Ushari...YES, that is my name, I remember that.

She looks over the hastily constructed raft, and is satisfied as to its seaworthiness...and climbs onto it, partially, not wanting anyone else to risk drowning. She then drifts off into a fitful rest, true rest being impossible at this point in time. While half-asleep, the rest of you can see a young human female, barely out of her teens, with a slender figure, blonde hair, quite soaked by seawater. Her eyes are a startling shade of blue, almost grey in shade. Her clothing is non descript, if well made.

Her sleep is not very peaceful one, but all things consideredf, rather understandable. She awakes suddenly and her attention is immediately drawn to the elvish woman. She looks over at the elvish woman, and stares at her for a few moments, not saying anything. Then she speaks in an almost inaudible voice, "Who are you? What happened to our ship?"

Bluff DC 8:

The look in her eyes is guarded and not very friendly.

Bluff 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 6 = 8

It's hard for you to appreciate how tall the exotic woman is under the present circumstances. In spite of her great height, she looks rather young. Were she a human, you'd guess her to be about 16 or 17 at most. Her skin is well-tanned and she seems largely unfazed by the fact that you are all adrift in the sea.

At your question, the woman hesitates for a moment looking intently at the human girl as if trying to figure out if there was some veiled insult intended.

Sense Motive 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

Perhaps finding some answer or perhaps not caring, she runs her long fingers thru the silvery-blonde hair matted to her head and scratches as if it were a deep philosophical question.

She gives a sigh and pushes away from the raft for a moment floating on her back with one well-toned arm held skyward. She makes a gentle, laaa la-la sound before making a big splash with her other hand and vocalizing a violent exploding sound. "Keeer... BOOM!"

She lets her arm crumple back towards the sea and then does her best impression of a sinking ship by kicking her long legs up into the air and diving straight down. She resurfaces a moment later by the gnome and gives a shrug of her shoulders before turning her sea-green gaze toward the stars. She whistles an upbeat tune seemingly heedless to your current predicament.

As you watch the odd girl, you can occasionally make out a pointed ear poking thru her hair, but she's a good bit studier of frame than any elf you've ever seen. Even so, while she does not appear to be overly muscular, you can tell by the effortless ease with which she moves and swims that her long, smooth limbs are deceptively strong.

In spite of her natural beauty, the woman seems to give little thought to her appearance. Her hair is poorly trimmed, and you get the feeling that her clothes were ragged long before your ship was wrecked.

The gnome perches lightly on the edge of the raft, attempting to wring the water out of his bluish-black embroidered robe. His long blue-black hair is as bedraggled as the two women's. His black eyes shine out with amusement from his pale face as he watches the Elf woman's pantomime. His smile, framed by a black goatee, is honest. At the conclusion of her impromptu performance, he chuckles saying "Aptly put. Well stated."

Sense Motive 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9

He turns his attention to the other young woman as he looks through his backpack and belt pouches as if conducting an inventory, pulling out items, inspecting them thoroughly, and putting them back. "Most introductions start with you presenting your own name before asking for someone else's. Otherwise it sounds somewhat unfriendly. I'm Straehan and you are?" He smoothly moves past it to answer her other question, "As for what happened to our ship, I really don't know. I don't... G@DDAMN!" He looks aggrieved as he pulls a waterlogged notebook from his backpack, the ink clearly bleeding out, the text illegible. He sighs, "This may have contained some useful answers."

Ushari stares in wonderment at the elf woman's girl? pantomine, and quickly grasps the meaning, however this caused a flood of questions to pour into her mind. She leans back against the raft, and contemplates the meaning of the mystery. If there was a shipwreck, then why cannot I remember any other details, like my name?

On hearing the gnome's introduction, she stares at the gnome as if he has grown a third eye on his face. She struggles to remember her name , it was a pretty name, she thought...then in a flash of recognition, it came to her.

"My name is Ushari! I...I should apologize for being rude, but I...I...don't remember...what happened to our ship. I can't...I don't REMEMBER!" The last came out in a raggged cry of frustration.

He tosses the ruined notebook to her. "Neither do I. I know that was my notebook, but I don't remember it. I'm sure that writing in it was mine. But it's gone now along with whatever it could have told me about me."

Sense Motive 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10

The silver-haired woman c0cks her head to the side at Ushari's cry and looks about wondering if perhaps there's anything the four of you can eat. She quickly babbles something in a language that sounds more like a child making nonsense sounds before diving underwater with a large pearly sword with a wrist-strap inhand.

Survival DC 10 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (13) + 7 = 20 attempting to hunt for food
Should be able to hunt/fish enough food for everyone else during the course of the day.

When Fin reappears with fish, Straehan pulls out well-wrapped rations from his pack - enough for five days. "If we eat sparingly, we can probably make these last for a couple of days."

S's Perception 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26
F's Perception 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13

Straehan notices some objects bobbing far out in the water. He calls them to Fin's attention. It looks like flotsam from the wreck but one resembles a waving spar of wood sticking straight out of the water and the other appears barrel-shaped. It wouldn't be a hard swim.

"Do you think those are worth investigating?"

Ninja'd, this happened while Fin was fishing, then.

Ushari catches the notebook tossed aside by Straehan, and decides to stow it away in her pack, maybe there was some magic that could be used to mend it. She watches the elf girl dive into the ocean, and stares onto the spot where she disappeared into the waves. She has not said anything in the common tongue, I wonder if she can speak it.

Replying to Straehan, she exclaims, "That is odd, you don't remember anything about your previous life either?" She peers closely at his face, and runs her hand along his skull, feeling for any bumps. Not finding any, Right? she continues, "I don't appear to be injured either, how could we both have the same amnesia?" Looking over at the young man who is currently dozing next to her, she asks more quietly, "Do you think he knows anything?"

Sense Motive 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17
Swim 10 + 7 = 17 Please assume Fin takes 10 on all swim checks unless otherwise stated.

Sensing that the others prefer not to leave the raft, the elf girl smiles, nods, and swims over to the barrels to have a look-see.

Perception 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9

Whether she doesn't see the writing on the barrel, or whether there is no writing to see, the girl shrugs her shoulders uncertain as to what it contains. Since the others seem interested, she fetches the end of the silk rope from the gnome and ties it to the spur of wood so that they can pull it closer for investigation.

There are no unusual bumps on his head. Heal check, please.

Ushari wrote:
"That is odd, you don't remember anything about your previous life either?"

Straehan plays distractedly with the dit of hair below his lip, "I wouldn't say I don't remember anything. But some of what I do remember is... disappointing."

Straehan wrote:

There are no unusual bumps on his head. Heal check, please.

Straehan plays distractedly with the dit of hair below his lip, "I wouldn't say I don't remember anything. But some of what I do remember is... disappointing."

Heal 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7

Ushari looks at the gnome, a look of curiosity in her eyes, and asks, "What do you mean, disappointing?"

Rat Bastard

Fin approaches the flotsam cautiously. The spar is standing on its end, almost as if it's waving. She reaches the barrel first, spins it, and sees no words on it but there is a bung stoppered with a heavy cork.

She pulls the cork with a bit of effort. She smells inside and then sloshes the liquid around. The barrel appears to be about half full of drinking water. She pounds the stopper in with her fist and swims among the debris which is more extensive than they could see from the raft. She finds several lengths of rope and a torn 4' x 8' piece of sailcloth. Finally, she approaches the spar. Diving, she sees the cause for the spar's odd behavior. It was part of a post used to support a hammock. The hammock is submerged and holds a backpack which is weighing down the spar enough to make it act like a buoy.

J=1 F=2 1d2 ⇒ 2

Fin disentangles the pack from the hammock and carries it over to the barrel for inspection. A quick peek inside reveals equipment that is oddly familiar to her. She knows this pack is hers.

She bundles up all of the items together and attaches them to the silk rope for reeling in and then heads back to the raft pleased to have her equipment back... even though she didn't know she'd lost it.

No luck on that Heal check, sorry.

Ushari Velnokal wrote:
Ushari looks at the gnome, and asks, "What do you mean, disappointing?"

Straehan gives her a grim smile. "I've reached a unpleasant and reasonably certain conclusion about what my profession is or maybe was... I was an escort." When the word doesn't quite register with her, he amends, "... a courtesan, a whore."

He lets it sink in for a moment before adding lightly, "The only consolation I have is that, based on my taste in clothes and some snippets of memories, I suspect I was a fairly expensive one."

Bluff 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (2) + 9 = 11

Sense Motive DC 11:
He is embarrassed by his profession.

Sense Motive 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5

Ushari stares at him, certain he is joking. When she does not see any signs he is joking, she asks in a strained voice, "So, you were an escort?" For some reason the thought of him being an escort bothered her, she did not know why.

She collects her thoughts, and asks softly, "Do you remember anything else about your profession?"

His head tilts in curiosity, unsure exactly what she is asking. "I don't remember my job, fortunately. I recall the experience of my fingers running across different sets of exotic books in two or three libraries - private libraries, I think. I wonder if they were my clients' libraries." He shakes off the recollection, "At any rate, things could be worse. I'd rather be an escort than adrift on a makeshift raft in the middle of a damn ocean. That would be a real problem."


The young brown-haired man begins to stir restlessly in his sleep (something he has done off and on since he fell exhausted to the "deck"... if you can call it that... hours ago). This time, he doesn't quiet like he has. His motions become exaggerated, and he thrashes a bit, obviously having some kind of nightmare, and just when you're about to reach over to wake him so as not to knock over your life-raft, he jumps up to a seated position, a wordless cry coming to his lips, his hands coming up defensively in front of his face, his eyes finally coming open, a hint of fear in them.

He sits there for a few ragged breaths, eyes darting and confused, before realization finally dawns and he relaxes his arms and posture, running his hands up and down his torn and faded white shirt, brown pants, and soft brown shoes. He turns to you with a look of embarrassment as his hands make an unconscious check on the two daggers at boot and waist, then his eyes make a full turn around the bleak horizon, and you get the impression his traveling eyes take in every detail in a practiced way.

When those pale blue eyes come to rest once again on you, he considers you a second then stretches out a hand, oddly marked with tattoos on palms, backs, and fingers, "I'm Jayse. So, where in the Light are we?"

Sense Motive DC 11:
You catch a slight hesitation before his name… as if he was only then discovering it himself. Bluff (to cover his ignorance of his own name) 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (5) + 6 = 11.

Should i assume I have half my throwing blades (shuriken) on me? I figure half of them are in leather cases under my regular garments, with the rest in leather sheaths attached to the inside of my long coat. Does that work?

Sense Motive 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20

Ushari, mindful of being chastised by Straehan, and feeling decidedly more comfortable with this human male, responds, "Hello Jayse, I am Ushari, it is nice to meet you, although I wish our circumstances were less dire!" She gives a high pitched giggle, and adds, "We are here, as for where that is, only the gods know for sure."

She catches the slight hesitation just before he introduced his name, and asks, "May I feel your scalp?" Assuming he agrees, Heal check 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15

Sense Motive 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14

The silvery-haired girl puts her elbows up on the edge of the raft and rests her chin on her fists, forehead knotted in concentration as she observes what little conversation there is. Figuring out that the others are introducing themselves to one another, she waves at the rest of you to get your attention.

She then pats her chest twice to indicate herself, points to her hair and shakes it with her fingers, makes the motion of waves with her arm, and then churns up the water by her into a white froth.

Sense Motive DC 15:
She seems to be indicating that her name means 'head of hair like surf'.

Sense Motive DC 15 and Elvish:
Considering that she appears to be elvish, at least in that tongue, 'head of hair like surf' would translate into 'Findelgwing'.

Her sea-green eyes look to the rest of you hopefully and she repeats her actions a few times trying to emphasize her meaning.


Sense Motive 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (11) + 8 = 19.

Sense Motive 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20

Ushari realizes in a flash of insight the young elf girl was introducing herself, as she did not understand the common tongue, apparently. As she contemplates the meaning of her pantomine, another memory bursts into her consciousness, and she realizes she understood the tongue spoken by elves, at least competently. A small gasp escapes her lips, and she murmers in the elvish tongue,

"Findelgwing is your name, is it not?"

She motions for Findelgwing to swim over next to her, and motions for her to allow Ushari to touch her scalp.

Heal check 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20

Rat Bastard

There are no bumps or particularly obvious bruises on anyone's skull. However, (given some of those rolls) it occurs to you that brain trauma can come from violent shaking, etc. that may not register on the outside of the skull.

Jayse, regarding your spoiler - 'That sounds good'.

Ushari wrote:

The tall girl nods excitedly and claps her hands. When Ushari indicates she wants to touch her head, she scratches her temple, forehead creased, but holds up her hands as if to say, 'Whatever,' and swims on over.

Heal 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13 AA on Ushari


After a few seconds of reluctance, Jayse allows the girl to check his scalp, "Do you always start conversations this way?"

He watches the two girls chatter back and forth.. in a tongue he doesn't know. This must be the oddest way to wake up ever. As Ushari checks the strange elf's head he asks, "You understood that?"

He scratches his scalp once while indicating the wreckage they sit upon, "And were we on this ship together, then?"

@ DM - cool.

Ushari nods at Jayce, ”Yes, I do understand her, Jayce. Her name is Findelgwing, in our tongue.”

She looks over at the wreckage surrounding their makeshift raft, and adds, ”Yes, I believe we were all on the same ship, and we all are suffering from memory loss. What I don’t understand is if there was a shipwreck, where are the other survivors?” She leaves unsaid the horrifying thought, they were the only survivors.

Sense Motive (for all) 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17 sheesh! Lucky...

Straehan hauls in the line with the extra supplies and watches the other man take in the situation in the dim pre-dawn 'light'. "I'm Straehan. Your ersatz Phrenologist there is Ushari. And, apparently, our charming water sprite is Findelgwing."

He waits a moment before adding, "Are you having trouble with your memory? Both Ushari and I are. My memory appears to be something of a blank canvas save for a few snatches of color."

He ties the rope off to the rib, giving their raft a bobbing friend only a foot or two away and sets about investigating the haul.

Jayce wrote:
He watches the two girls chatter back and forth.. in a tongue he doesn't know.

Just to be clear, the only speaking Findelgwing has done has been in Aquan. In fact the fact, other than humming, whistling, or just making sound effects, she hasn't made any vocalizations that are discernible as words.


Jayse nods to the gnome, his young face troubled, "Yah, I don't remember anything before waking up with what seemed like an anchor tied to my leg under the water." He smiles a weak smile, "I guess it's somewhat safe to assume - since I wasn't killed on this raft - that none of you are responsible for tying me to the anchor, huh? Though I guess i could have just been very unfortunately caught by the rope in that storm instead of tied to it."

He sits for a few moments, considering their surroundings, "Can I have some of that water?" As he drinks, he continues thinking. Then, after taking a surprisingly short swallow, and thanking them all, he mutters, "I don't even know enough to wonder if there were other survivors, honestly. So, what do we do now?"

Sorry, poor choice of words in my post, Findelgwing. I knew you werent' talking.

Ushari nods at Jayse, ”Well, somewhere in this ocean there has to be land, we need to find it.” she looks up at the night sky, and continues, ”It’s too dark now to see land, but once the sun rises, we should get a better idea where we are…I hope.”

She looks over at Findelgwing, and a feeling of guilt came over her. She had done nothing to earn her mistrust. She looks over at the elvish girl, and speaks haltingly in Elvish, many of the words mispronounced, but still recognizeable:

“Findelgwing, do you know how to find land out in the open ocean?”


"That's probably a good idea." he mutters as he watches Ushari talk to Findelgwing. When he's not interrupting he looks at the human girl, "So you know healing? You look too young to be a physician."

Findelgwing rest her cheek on her fist and looks up at the planets and stars in the sky to see if she can get their bearings (or at least determine north). She also tests the wind and water to see if that provides any hints to where land or mountains might be affecting their currents.

She also checks her pack and finds a long tube sealed against moisture. She opens it up and carefully pulls out a few maps that were rolled-up inside and being studying them.

Know: Geography 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (8) + 4 = 12
Prof: Sailor 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8
Survival 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21

Since Fin likes maps and charts, I started her off with a map case in her pack. If there are any maps or charts she might have that would be handy, let me know. Otherwise, we can just assume they are maps she made of her home.

Rat Bastard

You have extensive maps and charts of your home and home ocean. Looking at them, you suspect you were planning a serious journey. Unfortunately, since you appear to be in a different ocean altogether (unless the salinity of your ocean suddenly changed) you are pretty sure your charts aren't going to be much help here.

Hint: They aren't useless in the adventure though, so keep'em. :)

You can indeed tell North and that the winds and current are heading in a generally E or NE direction. The winds are particularly variable. Because of the darkness, you can't see anything yet that would give you signs of land.

Some house-keeping issues...
Strae had a wineskin in his pack which will now be your default shared drinking vessel. It is a tricky process figuring out how to get water from a large barrel on a unstable raft in a moving ocean into a small wineskin. Needless to say brute strength, dexterity, and the assistance of the group make it possible. If you have other skins, they can be filled as well.
That's a subtle hint to check your pouches and packs, folks. :)

With the lashed-on barrel, spar, and flotsam it is now possible for all of you to be out of the water at the same time, provided Straehan perches on the barrel and materials. He is the smallest and lightest, so the barrel is most stable underneath him.

Fin, a Perception check if you please...

S's Perception 1d20 + 7 - 5 ⇒ (17) + 7 - 5 = 19 distracted with examining the haul and the conversation.

Jayse wrote:
"That's probably a good idea." he mutters as he watches Ushari talk to Findelgwing. When he's not interrupting he looks at the human girl, "So you know healing? You look too young to be a physician."

Ushari looks over to Jayse, and does not say anything for a few minutes, while Findelgwing pores over her maps. A physician? Now that would be interesting. She remembers touching their scalps and the feeling of searching for the hurts she just knew were there. It felt really good to try to help people, and not like her past actions when she was hurting people.

”I have no training as such, but I do like the idea of healing people…” Her voice trails off in thought.

Perception 1d20 + 5 - 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 - 5 = 1 distracted by maps

Findelgwing contemplates her maps with a melancholy sigh. She is seemingly oblivious to anything else going on around her. At long last, she rolls them up and makes certain to seal the map tube tightly before stowing it back inside her pack.

Upon seeing that the others are filling waterskins from the barrel, she takes hers out of her pack and proceeds to fill it as well, assisting the others as best she can.

Dex 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18
Str 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5


Lol. I have no waterskin... excellent! Preparation ftw!

Jayse eyes the elven woman putting up her maps and lookign at the sky, "Any luck with those maps?"

Jayse wrote:
Lol. I have no waterskin... excellent! Preparation ftw!

As do I...good thing I has friends, he he.

Rat Bastard

Hearing something in Ushari's voice, Straehan turns to look. His eyes cast briefly across the horizon and picks something up. He stops and looks more closely. He almost vaults onto the barrel in alarm. He points, "Look there! I think that's a shark! Fin, get out of the water!"

I'll be updating the map presently but to set the scene... Jayse is sitting on the left end of the raft, feet dangling over the side in the water. Ushari is in the middle section talking with him. Fin is mostly in the water on the right end near the barrel and tied off flotsam having just put her map-case away. Straehan is on the barrel/flotsam.
Actions, please.
Jayse and Ushari, bear in mind that you are in total darkness.

Cue the THEME MUSIC, Neil!

Jayse 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28
Fin 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 4 = 24
Ushari 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9
Straehan 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4
JAWS 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

ORDER: Jayse, Fin, Jaws, Ushari, Straehan.

Sense Motive 1d20 + 5 - 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 - 5 = 10 distracted

Findelgwing doesn't seem to notice that Jayce was speaking to her, but upon hearing the tone of alarm in Straehan's voice, her head snaps up and she looks in the direction he is pointing.

With a kick of her powerful legs and the shove of her offhand, Fin hops out of the water. As she does so, she draws her sword from its back-hangar, her hand looped thru the wrist cord.

If we get a full-round action: Fin steels herself for the shark's attack, ready to open a bloody gash in its rough hide that any other sharks yet unseen might turn on it.

Readied Attack:
Whoosh 1d20 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 6 + 1 = 18 higher ground
dmg 1d10 + 3 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 3 + 1 = 11 2-handed


"SH!T!" Jayse curses as he yanks his feet out of the water, rolling backwards up his back onto his shoulders, then whipping his body up into a crouching position. He pulls a short 3 inch hiltless throwing blade from a hidden sheath in his boot and stands in a crouched, ready position, awaiting any part of the animal above the water-line.

Move Action - stand up. Trying to remain in a crouch to reduce the amount of rocking he creates on the raft.
Standard Action - Ready an action to throw his throwing knife (shuriken) if the shark breaks the surface to attack.
Perfect Strike 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10 OR 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (2) + 3 = 5.
Damage 1d2 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5.
Miss chance 20% - 1d100 ⇒ 94

Perception 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19

Fin notices that Jayce is poised to throw a weapon. She waves at him and makes a motion with her left hand of a chomping mouth then another of her sword flying past it and missing. She then rocks her blade back and forth, lowering it while she raises her left hand higher and higher. "Blub, blub, blub..."

Sense Motive DC 15:
She trying to tell you that if you miss, your weapon is going to sink out of sight.


Sense Motive 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16.

Jayse gives a quick nod to the (surprisingly) tall woman, "I'm aware of that, thanks. I'm also not armed with any giant shark-killing-swords, either, so this'll have to do!"

Ushari fights off a feeling of panic, and draws a short dagger, with a horizontal handle. She fits it to her right hand, and shifts position, waiting for the shark to approach….

Ready action to strike at the shark, should it enter melee range.
Attack punching dagger 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (19) + 1 = 20
Damage 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4
Miss chance 20% 1d100 ⇒ 60

Sense Motive 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10


Adding miss chance and a weapon clarification to earlier post.

Rat Bastard

No sooner does Fin propel herself out of the water and spin, sword in hand, than a leviathan of razor teeth comes straight up out of the depths after her. It is a massive, glistening, grey beast with brown tiger stripes - nearly as long as the raft itself. It fails to lock its jaws around her flank but its teeth slice ribbons of flesh down her side, it's cold black eye staring as if dead.

To Hit: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (13) + 5 = 18
Damage: 1d8 + 4 - 2 ⇒ (5) + 4 - 2 = 7 ruined its plan of attack by moving so quickly

Fin's vengeance is quick in coming. She slashes the beast across the jawline and gills giving it a ragged 3' long wound. It thrashes and snaps in response as its body slowly falls back towards the water.

Despite the near-dark, Jayse throw is true and the blade thunks into the beast's hide as it rises. The blade fails to penetrate, however. Now, the shark has a handle...

As the beast descends toward the water, Ushari stabs letting the shark's motion impale it upon her blade. Her strategy works but nearly wrenches the blade from her hand.

The shark hits the water, rocking the raft and dousing the party with a soaking spray.

Watching the humans squint and knowing they can't even see the other shark, Straehan's frustration grows. We need light. Coming unbidden to his mind are words of power and gestures which his body seems to know. A set of 4 glowing lights bracket the raft and surround the humans, lighting the pre-dawn darkness.

No penalties for vision on the nearby shark anymore. Ushari and Jayse can only vaguely make out the glint off the fin of the further shark - which still circles although now more excitedly. It is outside the range of the Dancing Lights spell.

Updated map coming... MAP

Feel the Fear...

ORDER: Jayse, Fin, Jaws, Ushari, Straehan.

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