Can someone please check the Roll 20 link above. When I log in with my laptop all the maps on the first page are there, but when I log in with my Desktop the first and third map don't show up. Can someone else let me know if all the maps are visible.
I'm just going to sum up the battle here so that we can get moving as soon as the others join.
After a minutes of continued combat back and forth our intrepid heroes manage to defeat the reefclaws, despite some minor scrapes and bruises (everyone take an additional 3 points of damage and make another DC:13 Fortitude save).
Reefclaw meat is considered a delicacy in many cities, although many more discerning people argue that consumption of reefclaw is immoral, as these creatures are far from unintelligent. These arguments typically fall on deaf ears-enough so that reefclaw fishing remains a profitable, if dangerous, career.
Your respite is short lived though, as a heretofore unseen reefclaw grabs Radval by the ankle and pulls him under. Before anyone can react he disappears beneath the waves never to be seen again. Despite frequent dives you are unable to find neither hide nor hair of the hapless Sorcerer, although you do find a partially coral encrusted skeleton buried under a reef ledge. A search of the corpse turns up water logged and ruined suit of leather armor, and a finely crafted dagger that has somehow resisted corrosion despite being submerged in salt water for years. Also scattered among the coral are several tarnished gold coins and after several dives you are able to recover 18 of them before realizing more dives would be fruitless.
The two reefclaws are enough two fill one crab pot each and the rest of you are able to fill your remaining pots in peace before returning to the ship.
Fortitude: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17
Jaina manages to fight off the reefclaw on her, but her eyes widen as Radval gets dragged under the waves.
"WISP!" She yells out, swimming out after him. After searching around, she furiously punches the water. "F**K!"
Grabbing her dead reefclaw and shoving it into the crab pot, Jaina climbs back aboard the Wormwood, glowering, her hands clenched into fists.
"Damn damn damn!" He cursed doing his best to swim for their fellow friend mentally cursing more than he verbally was. Radval had reminded Percival of his little brother back home, and the large nobleman had been well becoming more and more protective of the younger man. It was with a heavy heart that he filled up the crab pots. Someone somewhere would pay for this, but now.. now was perhaps not the time.
Once back on the vessal the noble followed jaina up dropping the pots with a glare. He also spoke before Jaina did, the last he needed was her fiery temper getting the best of her and more tragedy to occur this day.
Radval... Radval was drug under by something and wont be back im afraid... Im going to my bunk." He said simply yet almost forcefully. It was apparent he was done for the day with work.
fortsave: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10
Percival Strength damage: 1d2 ⇒ 2
As you climb back on deck Mister Plugg looks at your haul and especially at the two reefclaws stuffed into the pots and nods admirably at you "Looks like there's going to be some good eating tonight." he says as he has two other crewman take the pots down to the galley.
Master Scourge looks out over the ocean and asks "Where is the scrawny one? At Percival's explanation of events, Scourge guffaws "Good riddance to bad rubbish. Always giving me the creeps he was, the way he snuck around in the shadows." He looks at the three of you and smiles a nasty smile "Looks like we're a man down and someones gonna have to take up the slack, now ain't they?" with that he spits on the deck and turns to catch up with Mister Plugg, like some dog coming to heel.
Fortitude save: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9
Strength damage: 1d2 ⇒ 2
Randall climbs up after after Tilly reaches the deck, just in time to hear Master Scourge's disparaging remarks about Radval. His fists ball up as he starts to take a step forward, only to be stopped by Tilly's hand on his arm. Turning to glare at her she gives a small shake of her head and he relaxes just a little, just enough to give her a smile as he unclenches his fists. "Some day there will be a reckoning and I will put paid to your account, little man. Now run back to your master like the mangy cur you are." Taking a deep breath Randall smacks Tilly on the back side, saying "Thanks, I needed that." before following Percival below decks.
I've modified the rum ration a little bit to make it a little less deadly. it now deals 1d3-1 Con damage as opposed to 1d2, so there's a chance you won't take any damage.
That night, after a meal that even an inebriated Kroop couldn't mess up, Cutthroat Grok is passing out the evening rum ration when someone shouts "Attention on deck!" as the Captain himself, the first time you've seen him in over a week, walks among the crew with Plugg at his heels making his way over to where you are gathered. "I understand that we have you lot to thank for this fine meal, eh."
1d3 ⇒ 1
He grabs Percival by the shoulder with an iron grip "Perhaps we should send you out on all our fishing expeditions?" his laugh rumbles in his great barrel chest as Plugg's laugh seems more like a squeak than anything else, and there is definitely no humor in it. A fine hunter like you shouldn't have to use his bare hands. Cutthroat, see to it that this man has his gear returned to him in the morning." With that he turns and strides across the deck back to his cabin with Plugg trying to catch up only to be stopped short when the Captain slams the door, leaving the red faced first mate outside.
Can I get your evening actions?
He froze when the captain approached. He didnt think they had stepped over the lines with ....how he spoke upon their return but... He almost relaxed at the mans words. Percival smirked almost darkly watching Plugg almost walk into the door.
Interesting. . . He began with a devilish and handsome grin. Maybe their luck was changing but it didnt feel that way with the loss of Radval.
rum: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (19) + 4 = 23
con damage: 1d3 - 1 ⇒ (3) - 1 = 2
He drank his rum quickly and went to bed early only looking slightly haunted.
Evening Action: Go to bed early
Jaina doesn't say a word as Captain Harrigan appears on deck, instead folding her arms and eying him attentively. She doesn't, however, even bother stifling a snicker from seeing Plugg walk into the door belowdecks.
Stealth: Stash the Rum: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20
Jaina takes her share of the evening meal, rum ration included, and heads belowdecks, stuffing the rum ration into her duffle, as per usual.
Fortitude save: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
Con damage: 1d3 - 1 ⇒ (3) - 1 = 2
Cha bonus: 1d4 ⇒ 2
That night Randall pulls his concertina out of his foot locker and plays some mournful tunes as he thinks about the loss of a boy, a man, he'd only met less than two weeks before.
Perform (keyboard): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13
But his heart just wasn't into it and he gives up and goes to bed early.
It's been four days since the Windchaser sank in that terrible storm. Out of the entire crews complement you are the only two, that you know of, to survive. Clinging to what was once a hatch` the two of you have drifted far from the wreck surviving on Rhialla's ability to call upon Besmara to deliver fresh water and the occasional fish that approached to closely out of curiosity.
Four hellish days drifting under the hot sun has taken it's toll on you (You are both Exhausted and will be until you get some rest). Staring across the water you spot what you think are sails against the horizon. "No it can't be, it must be the reflection of the sun off the water". You focus your gaze. "It IS", it's a ship sailing far outside the sea lanes. "What's it doing here?" You don't care. Summoning up your last ounce of strength you stand precariously on the wooden door and begin waving your arms to draw attention all the while praying that they see you.
You realize they have as the ship alters course and begins heading in your direction. Interminable minutes pass until the ship draws next to you and a rope is lowered.
As the sun begins to rise Jaina, Percival, and Randall make their way on deck to begin another day of drudgery and toil.
Everyone roll your ship's tasks
Shortly into your shift, however, you are distracted by shouts from the crowsnest as the lookout points off into the distance. Roused by the shouts Mr Plugg mounts the steps to the foredeck and removes a looking glass from his belt. Placing the spyglass to his eye he mutters "By Besmara's britches, there are two people out there." Ordering the helmsman to change course the ship slowly approaches the hapless souls.
Minutes pass, 10, 20, 30, until finally the ship pulls alongside the makeshift raft and with a shout of "Ahoy, there!" Master Scourge tosses a rope over the side.
swabs tasks: 1d6 ⇒ 3 swab the decks
dc10str check: 1d20 + 3 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 3 + 4 = 13 working diligently
Swabbing the decks almost seemed beneath him, but there were worse duties he supposed. The tall and broad nobleman undid his coat for the first time on the voyage, taking it off as he got to work. Since the captain had actually noticed him he focused at the task at hand, no since shirking off to counteract what could be gaining the captains favor. Especially if that irked Plugg a bit.
The sighting of the survivors did bring a curious raised eyebrow from the young nobleman He even moved to help with the rope if needed, curious who was either blessed or cursed by Besmara enough to survive out there.
"They see us! They see us!" Neela hugged Mr. Wiggles, her dodo bird as she said this. Stranded for four days living on a hatch, she was getting worried that Rhialla would eat the adorable bird. But now they were safe. "See, luck is on our side."
She hugged her newfound friend next. "We're saved! Thanks to you. Without you water, we'd be long dead." She waits expectantly for the ship to arrive, then ties the rope around her waist before grabbing both the rope and Wiggles.
Rigging Job: 1d6 ⇒ 3 = Upper Rigging Work!
Climb (Going Up): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16
Climb (Going Up): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24
Profession (Sailor): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16
Climb (Going Down): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (11) + 7 = 18
Climb (Going Down): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8
Climb (Going Down): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (12) + 7 = 19
In the midst of her rigging work, Jaina looks down at the sound of Master Scourge calling out to see two women climbing aboard, using a rope the bosun so kindly tossed over the side.
"Oh, lovely." She says to herself as she climbs back down to assist the two castaways. She nearly misses her footing on the way down, but gets back to the deck without incident.
|Rhialla "Buxom" Blackwater|
Rhialla feels so exhausted she can barely muster the enthusiasm she feels at the sight of the approaching ship. Four days
Some part of her mind couldn't help finding it funny that Besmara had blessed her to be stranded with the ship's "good luck charm". "Looks like you're good luck after all Neela." she says tiredly smiling as she helps the witch tie the rope around her waist.
As the girl and her bird are pulled up and the rope lowered again she slaps her hand down on the hatch, a silent thanks to Besmara moments before she is hoisted up.
Swab task: 1d6 ⇒ 4 (Hauling Rope and Knot Work)
Profession (sailor): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14
Randall begins the day hauling coils of rope around the deck "Move it here, move it there. I swear I've moved the same coil of rope three times already. I think Scourge is just doing this to make my life miserable". Randall's thoughts are interrupted by the shout from the crow's nest. Rushing to the rail to see what all the commotion is about he spies the castaways on their makeshift raft. Extending a hand to help them aboard he smiles "Welcome aboard the Wormwood ladies" he tells them.
After the excitement dies down and not wanting to face the lash, Randall returns to his tasks. Making his way toward "Crimson" Cogward, he engages the sailor in conversation trying to break the ice between them.
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (12) + 8 = 20
After several stories he finally manages to make the man smile although he doesn't say much in return. After his shift Randall stretches his aching muscles and back before settling down for the evening meal.
Constitution check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6
After being hauled aboard the ship Neela and Rhialla are greeted by a crowd of sailors and some catcalls from within the crowd. Suddenly a voice booms across the deck "Make room, make room. Damn you lot let me through." Habbly Quarne, the ship's surgeon and carpenter, shoulders his way through the men.
Examining the women, Habbly turns to Mister Plugg and tells him "They seem fit enough, quite well in fact for having been adrift for so long, although they seem to be suffering from exposure. Give them a days rest and they should be right as rain." with that he heads back below decks.
Plugg tells Master Scourge to detail a couple of people to take the ladies below and get them settled in "After all, we could use the extra hands." he tells him before resuming his duties on the foredeck. Scourge points to Percival and Randall "Oy, Your Lordship and Romeo, takes these two below deck and let them get some rest. They can use your bunks, you won't be needing them for a while." he smiles a nasty, crooked smile.
He almost rolled his eyes...almost. There were worse thing to be called he supposed.
"Well then, I dont mind if I do then, Percival Asploric of the.... well never mind all that, This here is Randall, handy fellow with a tune, lets get you out of the sun shall we?
He began with only a slight wink, to the ladies. He could only imagine they were not in the mood for small talk, even with so dashing a fellow as he. He led the way slightly weaving to the side to grab his coat slipping on over his broad shoulders again Only flexing just a slight bit.
As Randall mentioned, welcome to the Wormwood, I tell you more about its history but since some of us arrived here on an unaware 'volunteer' status, I dont know much more than that.
He paused at the bottom of the stairs that led to their hammocks, he pointed his out to the lovely ladies.
"Feel free to use my footlocker there, I dont have anything in it yet, rest well, see you at dinner perhsaps. "
He finished offering them both a bow and a wink. He would have much rather been down here talking, but he had a feeling Scourge was looking for a reason to punish them, so he hurried his way back up to the deck to finish his job.
Neela is a little taken aback at the catcalls, though they were probably for Rhialla. She wasn't called "Buxom" for nothing. But as she looks around the ship, the crew and their garb, she can't help but notice. "So, you all are pirates, aren't you?" she says, holding Mr. Wiggles closer. Maybe she wasn't as lucky as she thought.
On the other hand, at least she was being escorted by two charming gentlemen. She follows Percival and Randall downstairs. "I'm Neela, and this is little fella is Mr. Wiggles," she says, gesturing to her bird. "Pleased to meet you. I'm famished - could sure use some food. But I get the feeling that's not easy to get on a whim. Please make sure we make it to dinner!" With that, she sets her things in the footlocker, settles into the hammock and begins to close her eyes.
"Pirates?" Randall exclaims in obvious feigned indignation, then in a more serious tone continues "Truth be told your "raft" has been the first ship we've seen in almost two weeks"
"The Wormwood's not a bad ship, worst than most, better than some I've served on. Percival and I, along with an Ifriti woman named Jaina, were pressganged about a week and a half ago and have been trying to fit in since then. The Captain has been practically nonexistent since we've been on board. The First Mate, Mister Plugg, been running the show since we left Port Peril along with the Bosun, Scourge, to keep discipline. Plugg's a martinet of the sadistic kind and Scourge is just short of being insane. Keep your head down and try to steer clear of them and you should be alright" Randall says as his hand goes to his shoulder to rub the spot where the lash cut his skin on his first day aboard.
As Neela begins to fade off Randall gives her a mock bow and a "As you wish, M'lady" Before following Percival back up to the main deck.
A thought occurs to Neela. "Percy," she says, quickly adopting a familiar tone. "Before you go - come over here. I have a gift for your kindness."
If Percival comes close, Neela casts a spell on him. A slightly sulfurous odor emanates in the air. Infernal Healing. "There, that should help close up some of your wounds. Some people don't like this sort of magic, but by your signet ring, I don't think you're one of them."
Jaina follows the two women below decks, having finished her duties for the day. The fact that Percival was subtly flirting with the both of them wasn't lost on her.
She watches the two women settle in before noticing Neela's casting of some sort of spell. The sight of it causes her to wince.
She shakes her head and takes a seat in the hammock next to her. "So you're the new faces, eh?"
|Rhialla "Buxom" Blackwater|
"Well that certainly has a note o' finality to it doesn't it?" Rhialla says with a rye grin. "Well better on this tub that floating around ona hatch for another couple days, four was long enough."
"Glad to meet y'all, I'm Rhialla." she says flashing a stunning grin. Even exhausted and clearly sleep deprived, the young woman is clearly healthier than the majority of thise on board.
Percival and Randall return topside letting Neela and Rhialla settle in and get some rest. It seems like the pair have just closed their eyes when they are shaken awake by a pair of sailors, not the ones who escorted them down. One, a swarthy Vudrani, gives them a gapped tooth grin and says "Wakey, Wakey. Time for dinner." while the other, a silent half orc, stands nearby,
As your served the evening meal of what you assume is fish stew a tall lanky female half orc begins making the rounds on deck handing out mugs of rum to the crew. As she hands out the drinks to Neela and Rhialla she tells them "Drink up, ladies. You don't want to entertain the wrath of Master Scourge now, do ya'"
After the rum ration has been handed out Cutthroat Grok returns on deck with a sailcloth wrapped bundle in her arms. She searches out Percival and drops the bundle at his feet "You gear, sweetie. Just as the Cap'n ordered."
As if summoned by the mention of his name, Captain Harrigan emerges from his cabin and proceeds to mount the stairs to the stern deck followed by Mister Plugg. As the noise of the sailors quiets Captain Harrigan's voice booms out "I understand we have two new crew members aboard. Welcome aboard, ladies this is the first and last time I'll be addressing you. I don't care about your grievances, any problems you may have you can take them up with Mister Plugg here, got it! The Wormwood is no pleasure yacht, she's a working ship and if you don't intend to work for your passage let Mr, Plugg know and he can send you back overboard on your raft to be on your way. The sea can be almost as harsh as I can so work hard and you'll be left in peace, don't and you'll feel the lash."
With that the captain retreats down the stairs and back into his cabin, leaving Plugg to glare out over the crew.
Can I get everyone's evening actions, please.
As she awakens, Neela stretches her body like a cat before rolling out of the hammock. "Thanks, I'm starving! My name's Neela, and this is Mr. Wiggles. Pleased to meet you." Neela extends a hand out to the Vudrani, oblivious to the grim nature of her situation. Diplomacy: 1d20 + 0 ⇒ (16) + 0 = 16
She then heads to the serving hall expectantly, eager for some food. She grabs the fish stew and sits by the nice gentlemen who rescued her earlier, as well as the odd fiery lady. She even downs the rum. It's only afterwards that she realizes that might have been a bad idea. Con damage: 1d3 - 1 ⇒ (1) - 1 = 0. "Okay, even I thought that drink was gross. How do you all manage to drink it?"
When the captain comes, Neela finally understands her situation. "Wait, they mean to put us to work?" she asks her new friends. "We're like slaves here, aren't we. What exactly am I supposed to do? Swab the decks?"
After dinner, Neela will sleep off the remainder of her fatigue/exhaustion.
It was good to see his things back, not that they held any particular emotional attachment to him. Still his property was his property. He would have to store them quickly although the exotic one he believed was curretnly using his footlocker. Maybe it could become 'their' footlocker. He grinned and shot the two of them a wink after the captains little...announcement. He didnt want to overcrowd them too much though a chance to learn a bit about them woudlnt be too ...intruding would it?
So ladies where do you hail from? I must say I cant place either of you and that certainly draws my interest."
Evening actions.... influence and entertaint the new pc's? *lawls* I cant imagine doing anything else besides chatting them up so and resting, been a long last few days.
|Rhialla "Buxom" Blackwater|
Waking up and making her way onto the deck Rhialla immediately reckognizes the press-ganging for what it is. Relieved to have the stew, she paces heself despite the hunger, wincing at the smell of the rotgut that passed for rum she drinks it down, shuddering as she feel it hit her stomach
Con damage: 1d3 - 1 ⇒ (3) - 1 = 2
She keeps quiet, giving Neela the occasional warning glance. and Sleeps off the rest of their ordeal over the course of the night.
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (1) + 3 = 4. Neela is completely oblivious to Rhialla's subtle warnings. "I'm from the North. Far, far away where it's miserably cold and everyone's fighting with each other. It was a pretty sad and uninteresting place, so I left and decided to explore the world! I've been traveling ever since, sometimes by land but mostly by boat. It's really amazing the things you find when exploring. Let me show you!"
Neela seems very animated as she pulls out a stone from her pocket. She sends the stone whirling around her head. It appears to orbit her endlessly. "I'm not sure what use this thing has, but it's pretty neat! Got a hold of it in Varisia exploring some Thessalonian ruins."
Randall listens to the Captain's speech with a jaundiced ear "Same speech he gave us when we came aboard."
Fortitude save: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6
As Grok hands out the rum ration Randall takes the mug and stares longingly into it's depths before a look of resolve crosses his face and he stands up and makes his way to the ships' rail. Looking around him he tips the drink over the side before joining the others below decks.
Stealth check: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19
Perform (Keyboard): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17
Once below deck Randall moves to his hammock, where Rhialla lies half asleep. Taking a moment to enjoy her form, he then opens his footlocker and removes his concertina. After a few warm up tunes he launches into a lively reel which soon has all those listening forgetting about there tired, aching muscles as their toes begin to start tapping in time with the rhythm.
Randall will use his Sea Shanty ability to remove fatigue from all those listening.
Evening action: Entertain
After the reel. Randall will spend the rest of the evening playing songs and taking requests from the crew.
Perform (keyboard): 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9
But his usually nimble fingers make several missteps and he is soon drowned out by a chorus of boos and catcalls before he too calls it a night and a curls up on the floor beside his bunk, the squeezebox as a pillow.
Evening Action: Influence Cut-Throat Grok! (More friendly)
Fortitude vs. Addiction: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13
Jaina knocks back the evening's ration without complaint for a change.
CHA Bonus: 1d4 ⇒ 4
CON Damage: 1d3 - 1 ⇒ (3) - 1 = 2
...well, she must've been a good worker. This stuff doesn't taste like the bottom of the barrel.
Fatigue (Hours): 1d8 ⇒ 8
But it does go straight to her head. At least Randall's shanty took the edge off of it.
Wandering about the deck, she finds her way into the ship's galley, finding the quartermaster & Kroop whiling the hours away.
"Hey, mind if I join you two?" She asks with more courage than she normally would. "I wanted to thank you for giving Rosie back her... what's it called? Fiddle? Yeah."
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (17) + 3 = 20
Jaina hopes she isn't digging herself into a hole with her words.
No problem, missy. I was glad to get rid of it." Grok tells you earnestly "When your friend, Randall, told me it may be haunted I didn't want it around me anymore. I don't truck with ghosts and things like that. No way, no how." she smiles a crooked smile at Jaina and gives her a half cocked look "Now what else can I do for you?" she asks.
Heat wave: Save DC's against Fatigue increased by +2
Shortly after sunrise the cool tradewinds begin to die down and as the sun climbs higher into the sky it begins to beat down upon the sea like a hammer on an anvil. The sun and heat combine to make already arduous tasks even more difficult.
You blink as you emerge from the relatively coolness of below deck. Lining up for today's tasks Master Scourge stops in front of Neela and Rhialla and grins "You two will be working for me. Now grab a bucket and mop and get to work," he pats the whip at his belt "or else." he adds.
Rhialla and Neela roll 1d6 on the Swab Tasks list on the Campaign tab.
Glancing up at the hot sun, Neela decides she needs to try and get out of this task. "You know, I'm really a very good cook, Master Scourge. I'm sure I could be of use in that area." That was a complete lie, but there seemed to be no better time than her first day to try it. And she couldn't be any worse than whoever cooked that slop she ate yesterday. Bluff, with Guidance: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19
Task: 1d6 ⇒ 5
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (20) + 6 = 26
Scourge looks at Neela askance and let's out a hearty laugh "Nice try, dearie. But you can't do any worse then Ol' Fishguts. Get down to the galley and get to work, and tonight's meal better be good or else I'll stripe your hide for lying to me."
Yes please. Everybody please roll your tasks for day 13. I was just telling the new player's which set of tasks to use but it looks like one of them managed to score the late, lamented, Xiakon's job as Cook's Mate.
How much HP do I get back from resting? Or can we just assume I was patched up at some point?
Before Day 13
Jaina leans back in her chair, looking at Grok. "I understand that when I was brought aboard, you were the one responsible for keeping the new crewmen's equipment in storage. There was a leather pouch in my belongings that had a bit of spending money--do you know where it went?" She asks, her earnest tone matching Grok's.
Day 13: Heat Wave
Daytime Ship Action: Influence NPC: Conchobar Shortstone!
Rigging Job: 1d6 ⇒ 2 = Line Work.
Profession (Sailor): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (16) + 6 = 22
CON vs. Fatigue: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (13) + 2 = 15
Despite the burning sun and boiling heat, Jaina powers through her shift with ease. She can't help but get a little smile of satisfaction. I guess being an ifrit has its perks after all.
During her shift, she notices the gnome from before (Conchobar, I think his name was?) having difficulties with his work. Sweat pours down the gnome's face as the heat takes its toll on him...
"Mind if I give you a hand?" Jaina says as she steps in to help him, not really waiting for an answer either way. "Heat's bloody awful today--don't need you passing out where Scourge can see you."
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 1 = 21
swab task: 1d6 ⇒ 1
He waited till Scourge handed out duties doing his best not to glower too much. How was he to get to know these lovely ladies better and woo them to his side down in that sweaty horrid place. He did shrug and shoot a wink at the white haired one Neela.
I look forward to tasting what you can do beautiful.
He said before removing his coat and heading below. He began his duties humming the tune to a chellish opera from his days back home when he realized half way through how incredibly hot it was down there. He slipped out of the bilges and made his way to the Quartermasters room.
Hello there m'lady Grok, this heat has been terribly stiffling and that sun. You wouldnt by chance have any sort of fancy hat I could acquire or perhaps one of those bandanna things?
strength check and shop: 1d20 + 3 - 2 ⇒ (19) + 3 - 2 = 20
con check: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12
heeh next question, so instead of using my 'shirk' ability to explore could i use it to perhaps make an aid another role? Not that it helps at the moment in the bilges but for future reference was curious
|Rhialla "Buxom" Blackwater|
No stranger to the grueling work aboard a ship, Rhialla gets to work on the ship's knots, her body soon glistening with sweat from the exertion.
1d6 ⇒ 4
Str check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16
Though she does a good job, the work is utterly exhausting in her current state.
Save vs Fatigue: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (9) - 1 = 8
Jaina, it's been 5 days since the reefclaw attack, so any damage should be healed by now. Otherwise Randall or Sandara would have cured you by now.
Percival, if you want to use the Aid another to help someone complete their task the you can go ahead and do that, but you will suffer a -2 penalty to your own task. Same as if you had shirked your own responsibilities.
I guess I'm lucky I rolled a 5?
Neela heads down to Ambrose Kroop. "Nice to meet you, I'm Neela," she says, only to find that Kroop's in a particularly chatty mood. Neela reluctantly takes the offered rum and gets to know a little about her new boss. "I hope you've got something lined up for tonight - Scourge said I needed to do well or he'd whip me and take me away from here." Rum!: 1d3 - 1 ⇒ (1) - 1 = 0.
Otherwise, Neela tries to befriend her new boss as he tells stories. "Really... you don't say." She looks to fortune to guide her words. Fortune hex + Guidance
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (15) + 1 = 16
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Swab Task: 1d6 ⇒ 1 Man the Bilges
Randall follows Percival down the ladder to the bilges. "So what do you think of the new arrivals?" he asks. The two spend the morning and afternoon swapping stories, brags, and boasts until their shift ends and it time to join the crew for the evening meal. The heat, stench, and back breaking work soon combine to sap the strength from him and Randall is barely able to climb the ladder back to the crew deck without complaint.
Strength check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (18) + 1 = 19
Constitution check: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8
As they work in the bilges the chelaxian noble smiles wiping sweat from his brow. The two pretty lasses lucky enough to survive but unlucky enough to end up with here? I like the fact that they havent tried to kill us yet, so thats a positive. You giving up on red and looking to move on either of them? I cant lie, for what its worth the exotic looking one with white hair intrigues me. I worry more for us however, Funny how we are both down here after I somehow caught the captains eye. I still think Plugg and Scourge are looking to make us an example.
pace yourself Randall pace yourself, im the 'big dumb fighter' remember *lawls*
"Giving up on Sandara? No, not yet but I'm keeping my options open. As far as Scourge goes, I think I stepped into that on the first day. From what Sandara told me when we were in the bilges that he tried into her britches but she turned him down. He doesn't seem like the type to let that go so easily."
Grok smiles at you and says "Aren't you sweet. "Your" gear now belongs to the Captain and as far as I know there was no pouch of coins with any of your gear. If'n there's something of yours you would like back I'm sure we could come to some sort of arrangement" She rubs her fingers together to indicate some sort of payment might be in order.
Back up on deck Jaina sees Conchobar struggling in the heat and begins to lend a hand. The bedraggled Gnome looks up at you suspiciously before nodding at you in greeting "Thank you kindly, mistress. I have no desire to wind up Scourge's whipping boy today. I'll leave that to your friend, Randall. Word is Scourge has it in for him because of that red-haired priestess." he says softly, accepting your help.
You arrive in the ship's galley to find it a total mess. A dozen chickens freely flap around the room while a couple of goats mingle in the corner. A pot-bellied man with a blood stained apron stands by an oaken table preparing the evening meal as you enter, a bottle of rum stands nearby. "Welcome, Neela. The names Ambrose, but you can call me Fishguts like most of the crew does if'n you like. Makes no difference to me, I've been called worse." He stirs a boiling pot of stew on the stove before removing the wooden spoon, taking a sip, and returning the spoon to the boiling cauldron "That wouldn't do at all, having Scourge lash you for my mistakes. Your job is to help me prepare the crew's meals and sometimes catch something for dinner. Plugg doesn't think I can do it on my own anymore. I've been at sea for over forty years now and I think I know my way around a galley by now."He hands you the bottle of rum to drink, then looks around before leaning in and whispering conspiratorially "I'll tell you this just so's you knows, This ship is poison, you see, but don’t let anyone hear you say it aloud. The hull listens, and the cap’n hears it all. Poison the Wormwood is, though, rotten to the core. You’ll not meet a more nasty, sour piece of work than Cap’n Harrigan in all your days at sea, and his crew’s the same, ’specially the first mate, Mr. Plugg. Vicious little sod, he is. He’d take his own mother’s liver to the butcher to make pies with, he would. But they leave me alone, mostly. They know I can’t ’arm ’em.”
Spending the day with the drunken cook you learn a few details about his life before the Wormwood like he used to be a proper chef at a fancy place in Port Peril before succumbing to the rum. Shortly before joining the Wormwood Ambrose was so drunk he bet his life in game against Captain Harrigan and lost and is now little more than the Captain's slave. He also tells you that the last cook's mate, a Tengu named Xiakon just upped and disappeared one night like he just flew away.
You walk into the ship's galley to see the newcomer, Neela, and Fishguts talking away. As you approach the Quartermaster's store Grok pokes her head out from the half door "What can I do for you, Handsome,"she asks. As you ask about the various headdress she says "Sure, I can get you a bandanna, but it's going to cost you a copper. If'n you want a fancy hat that'll cost you more...say five silver." She looks at you expectantly.
Percival gave the Quartermaster his best rakish grin. "I dont have a coin to my name at the moment i believe, but with the gear i had returned to me yesterday perhaps we could work a trade of sorts?"
Unless of course my tiny pouch of coin was returned with my things? I doubt that but worth a shot yeah? *lawls*
Any chance I bumped up Ambrose's friendliness with my Diplomacy roll from earlier? I forgot to add a potential charisma bonus from Rum. Cha: 1d4 ⇒ 3
"That's awful, Ambrose. A cook needs to be treated right and given the tools he needs to keep the ship happy and well fed." Neela looks around for something that might help her cook better. Like a cookbook or some sort of spices. Perception: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (16) + 3 = 19