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Shipmaster Dave's Skull and Shackles

Game Master Pryllin

Skull and Shackles Adventure Path
Part 1 of 6: The Wormwood Mutiny


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"Aye, aye, sir, Mister Plugg, sir."
She pulls out an ebony holy symbol, adorned with a skull and crossbones, and rushes to kneel over Sevien.
A wash of positive energy soothes over you all, closing wounds and mending bruises.
(Heal 2d6 ⇒ (3, 1) = 4hp)

Sevien:
"I can't keep that up all day," she whispers. "Play nicely... fer now." She winks.


Female Taldane Human Bard (Sea Singer) 1 / Cleric of Besmara 0

Lysandra continues to try and climb as quickly as she can, but she gets tangled up in the riggings for a short amount of time before reaching the top well after the peg-legged brute.

R3 Climb:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18 - 15 ft (37.5)
R4 Climb:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7 - 0 ft
R5 Climb:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7 - 0 ft
R6 Climb:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (20) + 2 = 22 - 15 ft (52.5)
R7 Climb:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21 - 15 ft (67.5)

Looks like she makes at the end of Round 7.


Male Half-Orc Wizard 2 - HP 11/21, 0 non-lethal, AC15, CMD16, F+2, R+1, W+2, Prescience 0/5

Mata turns to look at the master scourge staring him down while speaking to Sevien "stop your whining you are a healer aren't you"
I ready a disarm for the next time he tries whip me, I'll roll my Prescience at the beginning of round three
Prescience: 1d20 ⇒ 4
Then proceed NOT to use it for the disarm.
Disarm (if I get a chance): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23
note: I don't have improved disarm so this make fail totally.


Male Half-Orc Wizard 2 - HP 11/21, 0 non-lethal, AC15, CMD16, F+2, R+1, W+2, Prescience 0/5

Forgot on the disarm I should be at a -4 for being unarmed myself bring the result down to 19, but if I succeed I get the whip.


Male Human (Taldan) Buccaneer 2- HP 16/17, AC15, CMD14, F+2, R+4, W+1, 4/10 BP Used, 3/3 Lvl 1 Spells Used

With the clarity of the take 10 clarified, i'd rather have been rolling for Xantrius from the beginning.

1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20 Round 1 (15 feet)
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13 Round 2 (22.5 feet)
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (7) + 6 = 13 Round 3 (30 feet)
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 6 = 10 Round 4 (37.5 feet)
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25 Round 5 (52.5 feet)
1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7 Round 6 (No Progress)
1d20 + 7 ⇒ (7) + 7 = 14 Round 7 (60 feet)

Focused on the climb, Xantrius is unaware of events beneath him as he was among the first to make it to the top, although truth be told, it was hardly his swiftest rigging climb.

Glad to see you made it, madam he commented to Lysandra, who had reached the top at roughly the same time as him. Shall we descend?


Deity

(Xantrius- if you are accellerated climbing, actions 2,3,4 and 7 are no progress. If regular climbing then actions 1 and 5 you only move 7.5'. If mixing between the two, please specify.)

Mister Plugg looks up, watching casually. He rests one hand on the skulled hilt of his sheathed cutlass.
Lysandra and Xantrius try in vain to catch up with Nakon who, after his initial burst of speed, relentlessly clambers ever upwards.
"Ye call that climbin'?" Plugg hollers. "Ye look like pixies dancin' at a tea party."

(Mata also healed back 4hp from the channel.)
When Mata fails to move, Master Scourge plies the whip again but Mata grabs for it.
AoO Whip 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (15) + 6 = 21
Damage 1d3 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

Incredibly, Mata wraps the whip round his arm, and tugs it free from Master Scourge.


Master Scourge laughs with delight.
"Now what ye gonna do, pig-face?" he asks drawing a handaxe from his belt.
"Are you gonna be dropping that, or do th' sharks be gettin' pork fer dinner?"


Male Human Cleric 2 (FC) HP: 14/19 AC: 17

bluff 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6

After the healing he whispers to Sandara,

DC 15 +1 per 10 feet:

I am quite sure madam that I will not make it to the top alive. As much as I would like to play this stupid game, I fear it will cost me my life.
I am also a healer and can be valuable to this crew in that role, can't you talk to him? Just get me my holy symbol back from my gear and I can show him and you.

-
diplomacy1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28


Male Half-Orc Wizard 2 - HP 11/21, 0 non-lethal, AC15, CMD16, F+2, R+1, W+2, Prescience 0/5

Perception: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (18) - 1 = 17
Prescience: 1d20 ⇒ 9

"What am I going to do? I don't need to do anything, you are quite capable of showing yourself to be a incompetent fool without my help."
"Yes sir Mister Plugg, up I go"

With that Mata grabs the rigging and swings himself back, the whip still wrapped around his hand and arm.
Climb at normal speed and I'll use the prescience roll on the second climb check.
first move action: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17 7.5 feet
Second move action: 9+4=13 15 feet


There's some nervous laughter from a few of the crew as Mata turns.

Master Scourge is apoplectic with rage.
"You filthy piece o' dung! I'll see you dead at bloody hour."
Before Mata is out of reach, he charges with the hand axe.
mwk handaxe 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28
damage 1d6 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 = 7

He takes the whip back from Mata's fallen form and starts flogging him, still screaming.
"I won't stand fer yer attitude!"
Damage 1d3 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4 (Non-lethal above hp converts to lethal.)
"I won't stand fer yer insubordination."
Damage 1d3 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4
"You pig-faced, wretched, useless piece o' cowardly, snivelling..."


"That'll do, Master Scourge," mutters Mister Plugg still watching the climbing.
As Nakon reaches the top, closely followed by Lysandra and Xantrius, Plugg announces,"We appear to have a rigger. Now get back down here, ya useless pack o' losers."

Scourge composes himself, and stands at Mister Plugg's side.

Plugg continues. "We don't take kindly to thieves 'ere. Narwhal. Syl. Chuck 'im in with t'other one. The rest o' you, line up. We got another little test. NOW!!!"
Two of Scourge's lackeys who escorted you from the hold, a male dwarf with a large, misshapen nose and a human female with a wide smirk and constantly moving eyes, hurry from their jobs and drag Mata's limp form down below decks.


Male Human (Taldan) Buccaneer 2- HP 16/17, AC15, CMD14, F+2, R+4, W+1, 4/10 BP Used, 3/3 Lvl 1 Spells Used

Xantrius descended, shaking his head sadly as Mata was dragged off.

Now is not the time to make a stand you fool.


Nakon grins at Xantrius and Lysandra. Not a handsome sight but there seems no malice in it. He watches from above as the bloody half-orc is dragged below, his eyes flicking from Plugg to Scourge as if marking them.

When he speaks in a mild conversational tone only the two are close enough to hear.

That one will hold a grudge. Will the green one survive it I wonder?

As the others descend, he looks up to the sun, waving a hand and speaking a few words before following.

Nakon casts Know Direction attemping to work out the ship's heading. Using his vantage point he will also try to work out what he can divine of the ship's layout Perception 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (2) + 8 = 10 Profession Sailor 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (1) + 6 = 7.

OK nothing I guess..


Male Human (Taldan) Buccaneer 2- HP 16/17, AC15, CMD14, F+2, R+4, W+1, 4/10 BP Used, 3/3 Lvl 1 Spells Used

Retcon-

Xantrius looked over at the big, peg-legged man and shrugged, his voice grave.

My desire for revenge is no less than his, I am sure. Its just a matter of timing. If he survived... he will need to tread even more carefully. The minute he is more trouble than he's worth, they won't hesitate to kill him.

Xantrius looked Nakon in the eye as he began to speak but switched his gaze to Lysandra mid sentence with a wink.

I do not intend to be the lowest of the ship for long. I propose we three look out for one another and be ready to act to better our situation when the opportunity presents itself. What say you?


Male Human Cleric 2 (FC) HP: 14/19 AC: 17

Sevien awaits a response from Sandara before inching back away as the Half-Orc is brought to bear. He keeps his mouth shut, hoping the next test will be something more suited to his current meager skills...


Male Half-Orc Wizard 2 - HP 11/21, 0 non-lethal, AC15, CMD16, F+2, R+1, W+2, Prescience 0/5

I'm starting on -2hp and 12 non-lethal
Stabilization round 1 (-2hp): 1d20 + 2 - 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 - 2 = 7
Stabilization round 2 (-3hp): 1d20 + 2 - 3 ⇒ (3) + 2 - 3 = 2
Stabilization round 3 (-4hp): 1d20 + 2 - 4 ⇒ (9) + 2 - 4 = 7
Stabilization round 4 (-5hp): 1d20 + 2 - 5 ⇒ (6) + 2 - 5 = 3
Stabilization round 5 (-6hp): 1d20 + 2 - 6 ⇒ (2) + 2 - 6 = -2
I'll leave it at this point as it'll be at about this point people get down from the crows nest.


Nakon pauses after Xantrius' proposal, evidently thinking.

He chuckles, Every slave knows to look only to themselves. And slaves we are. Yet you two may not be as weak and slow as the others. Nakon will fight at your side when the time comes.

If you live that long.


Male Human (Taldan) Buccaneer 2- HP 16/17, AC15, CMD14, F+2, R+4, W+1, 4/10 BP Used, 3/3 Lvl 1 Spells Used

Xantrius smiled wryly at Nakon's comment.

Here, we're slaves only to the sea. Once they feel they have sufficiently cowed us and we've realised there's no easy escape, they'll allow us greater freedom. They are just trying to break our spirits to mould us into crew right now he explained.


Female Taldane Human Bard (Sea Singer) 1 / Cleric of Besmara 0

Lysandra thinks on Xantrius's offer briefly before responding, "I suppose that is acceptable. Ceratinly can't be any worse than things are now, and I know I don't want anything to do with the half-orc...he's gonna get himself killed before the sun sets."

Afterwards, Lysandra begins to carefully climb down the rigging, thinking to herself, No sense in rushing down, this isn't a race anymore...


Deity

In the rigging Nakon figures you're heading northwest. Looking down he can see the Wormwood is a three-masted sailing ship, 100 feet
long from stem to stern, and 30 feet wide amidships. Nakon, Lysandra and Xantrius head down the rigging, collecting Aemilia from her inexorable climb.

Below, Quinn lets go of Sevien.

Sevien:
"I'll do what I can, but 'e can't be reasoned with."

She stands and backs away from him. As Mata is dragged away, she waves her Holy Symbol at the half-orc and mutters. (stabilise)

Her actions earn her a lash of the cat from Mister Plugg and she grimaces and heads back to work.
Cat-o'-nine-tails 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (13) + 8 = 21
Damage 1d4 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4

SD:
Plugg Perception 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9

Plugg then wrenches Sevien to his feet and and pushes him against the rigging as the others return to the deck.
"Don't think I missed yer little stunt. I'm savin' yours fer bloody hour."
He then waits patiently until you're all assembled.


Male Human Cleric 2 (FC) HP: 14/19 AC: 17

Sevien looks down and way from him while imagining a Barbed Devil slowly wrenching the man to pieces as he screams in horror and pain.


Xantrius Casmirre wrote:

Xantrius smiled wryly at Nakon's comment.

Here, we're slaves only to the sea. Once they feel they have sufficiently cowed us and we've realised there's no easy escape, they'll allow us greater freedom. They are just trying to break our spirits to mould us into crew right now he explained.

I see men with whips telling us what to do. But perhaps you are right Funny Man.

Either way they will learn the cost of trying to hold a shark by the tail.

Nakon's final grin is unpleasant.

At the bottom he moves easily, standing next to Aemilia (and grinning if the woman shifts position).


Male Human (Taldan) Buccaneer 2- HP 16/17, AC15, CMD14, F+2, R+4, W+1, 4/10 BP Used, 3/3 Lvl 1 Spells Used

Amateurs with whips, to be precise.


"Right, ya jelly spined pack o' blaggards. Stand straight an' keep still."

He marches past you all, stops turns and marches back, watching you all intently as he does. He sneers in your faces, and prods you each with the butt of his cat-o'nine-tails. He then takes a few steps back and eyes each of you in turn.

"Now, ya lilly livered land lubbin' losers... who can cook?"


Male Human Cleric 2 (FC) HP: 14/19 AC: 17

Sevien ponders if he should volunteer for this duty, even if it is beneath him...you usually don't beat the man that is about to make your supper he muses...


Nakon grunts when prodded but resists the urge to drive a fist into Plugg's face.

He looks amused at this second test, staying silent.


Male Human Cleric 2 (FC) HP: 14/19 AC: 17

Sevien doesn't actually say anything though, just wanted to confirm.


Female Taldane Human Bard (Sea Singer) 1 / Cleric of Besmara 0

Lysandra looks back and forth at her fellow press-ganged crew members, waiting to see who will speak up first knowing full well she has never cooked a meal in her life.


Male Human (Taldan) Buccaneer 2- HP 16/17, AC15, CMD14, F+2, R+4, W+1, 4/10 BP Used, 3/3 Lvl 1 Spells Used

Xantrius' silence spoke for him.

Cooking? I've whipped a finer crew than these mongrels to ramming speed! Cooking indeed...


Deity

The gentle spray of the sea cools your brow after the exertion of the climb. Waves slap gently against the bow of the Wormwood, their rhythmic splashing breaking the cheerful whistle of the wind. The deck rocks slowly and the warm sun caresses your aching bones. Above, the mainmast creaks as the full sails tug the ship smoothly through the azure seas. A lone cloud scutters by in the crystal sky and a bird screeches in the distance. The mild roar of the ocean fills the long, long silence.


"You! Fatso!" Plugg steps forward and pokes Xantrius in the stomach. "You look like you've eaten well. You’re a cook’s mate now. Get yer fat arse down to the galley and report to Ambrose Kroop, NOW!!!"

"You! Fish-face!" Plugg jabs Nakon in the ribs. "You're my newest rigger. Git over to the mainsail and head to the lowest crossbeam. Touch nothing till I git there."

"The rest o' you lazy bludgers are now swabs. Master Scourge 'll be givin' yer orders and ye'll be takin' 'em or ye'll be joining yer fall guy fairy friend here at bloody hour." He lashes the deck in front of Sevien with his cat-o'-nine-tails then, chuckling, he heads over to the main mast leaving the rest of you with Master Scourge.


Nakon grunts again, doing little to hide his dislike for the pirate but complies.

Will take 10 on a climb check as necessary for 18.


Male Human Cleric 2 (FC) HP: 14/19 AC: 17

Not liking the sound of Pluggs remark he says to scourge, What is the bloody hour and what is he referring to when he says "them joining me?"
he says rather indignantly...


Male Human (Taldan) Buccaneer 2- HP 16/17, AC15, CMD14, F+2, R+4, W+1, 4/10 BP Used, 3/3 Lvl 1 Spells Used

Xantrius raised an eyebrow at the role he had been assigned and as Mister Plugg was leaving, he spoke up, posture relaxed but eyes wary for the whip.

Oh gods, not the bloody kitchens...

If I may, Mister Plugg, make a suggestion- I do think that my talents would make me a far greater entertainer than a cook. Alas, Mister Plugg, I fear that I may inadvertently end up harming the crew with my inept cooking; i'm well-fed because my family had a chef in Taldor you see. You've already witnessed my comedy- I humbly admit that I am also a competent orator and dancer. An entertained crew is an efficient crew.

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28 Diplomacy to make a request. If Plugg's attitude to Xantrius is Unfriendly or Hostile, i'd like this check to be to improve his attitude instead.


Deity

"Now, if I wanted yer suggestion fatty, I'd give it to ya. I don't care whachya think- that ain't yer job and it ain't yer strong point. Now geddown to tha galley!"
Mister Plugg makes his way over to the rigging and starts barking orders at the riggers, including Nakon.

Master Scourge is equally accomodating of Sevien's question.
"Shut yer pie hole, swab. Ye'll be seeing bloody hour at dusk. These here decks need swabbing so ye can all get to work."

Mata:
It's black. Your stomach is swaying uneasily. Hard metal sucks the warmth from your wrists and holds your arms above your head. The stench of rot and sewage assails your nostrils, some foul liquid slushes around your shins. There's a muffled creaking around you and distant shouts far above deck. The manacles around your wrists are locked and secure.
As you rattle them, a voice emerges from the darkness.
"Who's that? What's happening?"
Your darkvision kicks in. You're in a small cabin, maybe 20' across and 30' long. The foul smell is the water you're standing in, almost to your knees. There's a ladder leading up to a trap door and a pump at the other end of the room. There's six sets of manacles fixed to the crossbeams above you. You and a male human occupy the two sets farthest apart. He stares blindly into the darkness.


Male Human Cleric 2 (FC) HP: 14/19 AC: 17

Sevien settles in, swabbing the deck and generally doing as he is told until bloody hour...


Male Half-Orc Wizard 2 - HP 11/21, 0 non-lethal, AC15, CMD16, F+2, R+1, W+2, Prescience 0/5

Shipmaster Dave:
Mata grunts as he gets his feet under him and takes the strain off his wrists. He thinks about testing the strength of the manacles but before he does considers the structural importance of the crossbeams the manacles are attached to as it might will break before the manacles do.

Knowledge engineering: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (19) + 6 = 25
Craft ship: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18 strictly speaking should be only +4 as I don't have any tools but am not sure where tools come into this roll.

"The name is Mata, but you call me Obsidian if you prefer as that what it means. What is your name?"

With out a real pause for the man to answer. "Why do you suppose there is such a large empty room on a ship and knee high with water. They don't seem to be even very good sailors let alone pirates. By the way what did you do to get your your down here?"


Deity

Mata:
A brief look reveals the manacles are masterwork quality and actually fixed to the heavy bulkheads with solid iron bolts. The locks look almost as sturdy. You guess they'd be impossible to break by anything less than a pureblood giant.

The man has scraggly black hair, a thin face with a long nose and several days stubble. He leans his head back wearily at your questions. "Yer in the bilges, idiot. Yer not part o' the crew. Where did ya come from?"


Female Taldane Human Bard (Sea Singer) 1 / Cleric of Besmara 0

Lysandra quietly begins her work, keeping a wary eye out for her surroundings, taking note of anything that may be of use later.

Perception:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 = 15


Male Human (Taldan) Buccaneer 2- HP 16/17, AC15, CMD14, F+2, R+4, W+1, 4/10 BP Used, 3/3 Lvl 1 Spells Used

Honestly a little stunned that his eloquent request had been denied, Xantrius wisely decided not to press matters further and reported to the kitchens...


Male Half-Orc Wizard 2 - HP 11/21, 0 non-lethal, AC15, CMD16, F+2, R+1, W+2, Prescience 0/5

SD:
"Master Scourge might agree with on that one, but not where the captain could hear. I'm the last 'recruit'. I took an exception to being whiped and Scourgy didn't like being shown up infront of the rest of the crew" Mata grin then grins more remembering no one can see him.


Deity

Mata:
"Oh. I guess they're gonna kill you too then."

Nakon is assigned to mainsail duties and spends the day raising and lowering the mainsail with Barefoot Samms Toppin, a female human who never wears shoes and moves fluidly about the rigging. Another human female darts about the upper rigging, occasionally muttering to the man in the crow's nest, who never responds. The other sails are tended by a halfling male, who constantly dashes from forward to back sail at Plugg's commands. He is occasionally helped out by the male dwarf with the ugly nose and the male gnome dressed as a purple pirate who spend most of their time handling the ship’s ropes, coiling them, stowing them, and securing them to cleats and single and double bollards.

Lysandra and Sevien are given holystones, sandstone blocks, and set about the backbreaking work of mopping the decks and scrubbing them. They are joined by the silent half-orc male and a fat male human with a shaved head who constantly scowls at them.
Aemilia is assigned repair work, mostly splicing ropes. She is with the sour faced halfling woman with the hand axe and a young man. The other two are sewing sails, the halfling woman stabbing them viciously with her needle and the youth pulling out some ivory and carving it whenever Master Scourge is supervising elsewhere.
Two more females, one human and another half-elven, lug ropes around the decks, occasionally working with the dwarf and the gnome rigger. The gnome flashes them a smile every time they approach. They are helped by the bald headed man in the blue bandana who is constantly sneering, but never hesitates to do as asked.
Quinn, the red headed woman, and another female human, tall and graceful but with large ears, run constantly about the ship, carrying messages between Plugg, Scourge and the rest of the crew.

Xantrius:
The galley is located at the front of the middle deck and entered through a single door. A quarter of the room is walled off, but there is a closed door into it.
The cramped and chaotic kitchen holds two wooden worktables, several wooden cupboards, and two small stoves against the port wall. The stoves are both lit, and large cauldrons bubble away atop them. Virtually every cooking utensil imaginable and a frightening array of meat cleavers lay scattered about. A score of chickens and three goats wander freely throughout the chamber ignoring the array of cages nearby. The kitchen is a madness of dirt, food, and knives. A huge array of spices mingle with barrels of rainwater, two tuns of rum, open cupboards full of ship’s biscuit and salted beef, barrels of sauerkraut, and a small supply of fresh vegetables being nibbled on by one of the goats.
A large black cockeral, perches atop the loudly snoring figure of a human male. He exudes an air of neglect, perhaps even despair, from the bushy tufts of black hair behind his ears, to his rotting teeth, to the stains on his filthy apron. He is draped across a larger cage which has buckled considerably under his bulk and next to his thick left arm lies a half full bottle of rum.


Nakon marks the man in the crows nest. You have my job but not for long I think. I will call you Unlucky...

He uses his natural agility, endurance and prodigious upper body strength to carry out his duties efficiently and easily, showing no impediment from his wooden foot.

Profession Sailor 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26

For the most part he works in co-operation with the barefoot woman silently, showing her he knows what he is about.

After a few hours he throws her one of his crooked and ugly smiles. I am Nakon. We're heading north-west. Do you know our destination?


Male Human Cleric 2 (FC) HP: 14/19 AC: 17

Nods head towards Lysandra that indicates they should scrub this part away from the others...he then makes sure none of the whip carriers are near,
So, this wasn't what I expected when I woke up this morning. You seem to be a captive as well? My name is Sevien...may I know your name? There are many who would hurt us on this ship...we should watch out for each other.


Male Half-Orc Wizard 2 - HP 11/21, 0 non-lethal, AC15, CMD16, F+2, R+1, W+2, Prescience 0/5

SD:
"That is quite possible. If they were smart they would do it with out having their jaw broken too but they are yet to show much in that department. Who are you dead man? What did you do to die?"


Deity

Despite the difficulty of the work, Nakon takes it in stride. He times the winds right to help lift the sails, picks the lulls to manipulate the mainsail, rocks with the ship to pull the ropes and barely breaks a sweat.
After hours of silence, the woman seems surprised when Nakon finally addresses her. "Oh. Ye do speak. I'm Samms. We're headin' out o' Jeopardy Bay. Probably heading out between Widowmaker Isle and Dahak's Teeth to the Fever Sea. From thar, who knows?"

Mata:
"Jakes Magpie. Always liked the shiny. Quartermaster Grok forgets to lock the stores more often than not when she's bringin' up the rum ration. Tried to look in one o' those trunks, heard a click, felt a sharp pain and woke up here. Plugg says I'm t' be keelhauled. I'm dead."


Female Taldane Human Bard (Sea Singer) 1 / Cleric of Besmara 0
Sevien the Black wrote:

Nods head towards Lysandra that indicates they should scrub this part away from the others...he then makes sure none of the whip carriers are near,

So, this wasn't what I expected when I woke up this morning. You seem to be a captive as well? My name is Sevien...may I know your name? There are many who would hurt us on this ship...we should watch out for each other.

"The name's Lysandra." she says continuing to pay as much attention to her surroundings as the man she is speaking with. "I'm thinking you're right, Sevien. A couple of the other press-ganged folk are thinking like-wise."


Male Human (Taldan) Buccaneer 2- HP 16/17, AC15, CMD14, F+2, R+4, W+1, 4/10 BP Used, 3/3 Lvl 1 Spells Used

Xantrius looked upon the kitchen- and despaired, if only for a moment. He gave the sleeping man a not so gentle nudge in an effort to wake him up. Xantrius figured that the ship's chef was not a bad man to have as a friend and immediately made efforts to come across as charming as possible.

1d20 + 8 ⇒ (16) + 8 = 24 Diplomacy to change attitude

RP will follow but thought i'd throw the roll out there to begin. I'm pretty confident I can get a minute's interaction, once he's awake...


Male Human Cleric 2 (FC) HP: 14/19 AC: 17

Well Lysandra...to be honest I am trying to get my holy symbol back. It is my highest priority. With it I can defend myself and others as well as cast healing magic.
I have already been trying my hand with Sandara to try and help me get it back but worst case I could get someone who is handy with woodworking to make me a new one. If you get a chance to talk to some of the other new prisoners it could be that I could get one made.
My miserable attempt at faking injury has made me a target for the moment, I may not be conscious come the evening so any inquiries you could make would be appreciated.

Sevien says little else unless Lysandra says anything else.


Female Human (Chelaxian) Rogue (scout, smuggler) 1

Aemilia tries to find a patch of shade from the masts and sails to sit in as she works at splicing the ropes. It's a tedious job and rough on the skin, but the callouses she earned on her last ship ought to keep her fingers from bleeding too badly. It certainly appears to be less strenuous than scrubbing the deck; she glances across the ship at Sevien and Lysandra whispering as they work with no evidence of sympathy.

As her fingers master the repetitive motions of the task, her eyes have more time to roam. They increasingly settle on the young man with the piece of ivory -- and the knife. As the sun drifts across the sky and the ship cuts through the sea, she takes the opportunity to follow a patch of shade a little nearer the crewman ostensibly mending the sail. When Master Scourge has just moved away enough for him to retrieve his project from beneath the billows of canvas, she smiles at him promisingly. "Well met, sailor. What are you carving there? Present for a girl in port?"

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