"Then Zababa, Henry, get in here before the wind knocks you over. If we've got supplies and can get more, let's hold off. I'm sure there'll be backbreaking labor enough once the storm subsides."
Misha looks around to all present. "It's not pleasant, but maybe we should all have a bite and get some rest, if it's possible. When the storm gets out, we'll scout around. We need to find high ground to put out a signal, we'll find the spring so Rafflesia isn't consigned to water duty every moment, and..." she grins, "Let's find those ruins."
The Varisian nodded along with the plans. "I will send Una up and see if she can find any high ground or see any water on the land. It should be easy enough for her to do that, at least it will give us a good direction to go. But I better wait until it stops raining before I send her. She will be more uncooperative in bad weather. I know I am."
You can create all you needed. I had Rafflesia pegged as a druid mentally - otherwise I'd not have brough this up. :( Sorry
The jungle had grown both louder and a lot quieter all of a sudden. Louder because of the torrential downpour, but quieter since all the natural voices had grown lower. It was Henry who first realized what was off... a darkness moving between the trees, plates of black chitin whispering against one another. A centipede, easily as large as two grown man, had encroached against their makeshift shelter, and was tasting the air from two large feelers. It had approached stealthily, but seemed not quite sure how to proceed - attack a group larger than it had initially found wandering its territory, or abandon its hunt, and look for some prey with fewer chances of getting hurt.
"To arms my fellow castaways, already the island shows its teeth! Beware it's bite, the centipede almost certainly has poison in its maw."
Pulling his blade, Simon shifts to the front of the party protecting his less martial companions. He readies for the attack, hoping to strike the beast before it can strike at him.
if needed, initiative:1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14
N'gawa grabs the old longbow and a quiver of arrows, then jumps out of the side of the shelter. He circles around and pulls a bowstring out of a waterproof pouch, cursing as he exposes it to the rain. He strings the longbow and then begins making large motions with his arms. Those watching realize he's trying to cause the centipede to see him as a larger threat.
Wild Empathy check to scare the beast off 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 = 3
Initiative, if needed 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10
Misha looks up and down, reaching for her swords in case things get out of hand.
"Well," she says, managing to sound amused despite staring at a horse-sized centipede, "At least it didn't catch any of us taking a piss."
Initiative 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (8) + 2 = 10
1d20 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 1 = 11
Alright, our first battle. :) Scaring the thing off would have been boring, too. Your average initiative beat its roll, so you can now act in any order you prefer or happen to post. I'll resolve round 1 on wednesday, unless all replies are in beforehand
The centipede tried to track all of the humanoids it was suddenly faced with, a task exceeding its insectile brain's capacity by a considerable measure. The further loud noises did the rest, and its previous somewhat cautious approach evaporated. It had to fight this out.
Hold on your panties, boys, let me distract the thing!
Siera jumps at the opportunity to vent her anger and frustration at a mindless monster.
Move action: Move adjacent to the centipede. Will try tumbling to avoid Attacks of Opportunity and get to the creature's back: Acrobatics check: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (14) + 7 = 21
Standard Action: Attack with Stunning Fist: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18 against AC for 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9 bludgeoning damage. It needs to succeed at a DC 13 Fortitude save or get stunned for 1 round.
Moving nimbly, the sailor runs into the beast, narrowly avoiding a defensive bite while she jumps its long segmented body like a small fence. Staring at the back of the creature's head, she raises her arm, descending her elbow between the chitine plates. A loud crack is heard.
N'gawa curses as he sees the centipede rear up and hiss at many of the others. Disregarding Siera's words, he smoothly draws an arrow and launches it at the beast, trying not to hit any of those fighting it. Afterward, he takes steps back to put some distance between himself and it.
Ranged Attack within 30 feet into melee 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9
Damage 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6
Though armed with a sling instead of a bow, Zababa imitates N'gawa's attack of the giant centipede.
Ranged Attack into Melee: 1d20 + 4 - 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 - 4 = 6
Damage: 1d3 ⇒ 2
"Bah, missed it by a mile!" he exclaimed. Throwing the sling to the ground in disgust, he drew his dagger. "Looks like I'll have to do this the hard way! Draw weapon as my move action.
Misha rolls toward the centipede (move), taking a slash at it with one of her swords (attack). Reminding herself ever of her dream to be a star explorer, she psyches herself up for battle (Swift action to activate Archeologist's Luck - +1 to attack, damage, saves, and skill checks).
Assuming she can get into position. Can provoke if need be.
Attack 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (2) + 4 = 6
Damage 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7
But the mad rush of 13 people to get at the centipede is enough to cause her to swing wide.
With all of the confusion in front of the centipede, Tshilaba realized that his spells weren't terribly useful in such a situation. Besides, if the rush of people couldn't take out the large centipede, his magic wasn't likely to help either. He decided to bide his time and save what power he had for the day in case this wasn't the only situation that might arise today.
Never underestimate the sheer damage potential of many people rolling...
The Centipede could not withstand the sheer power arrayed against it. Henry's initial slash merely annoyed it, but Siera's fist was devastating, cracking open two segments of the creature and exposing its foul-smelling insides to the pouring rain. Rafflesia's icicle merely closed the deal, sending the already-dying creature into the depths of death so much quicker.
The creature's death did little to break the hold of the tropical rain, though. If anything, the absurd amount of water did grow that much more comical. The castaways were forced to huddle under their half-build shelter, with only Sasha in the mood for conversation. "Well, I suppose this could be worse. We could be in some underground ruin. At least we don't have to worry about dying of thirst, and we got bug meat to last us a week."
Varg stood out in the rain ignoring the water sheeting down around him, his eyes scanning the surround and his hand resting on his belt, right next to the handle of one of his waraxes. He turned back to the shelter at Sasha's words and offered the woman a crooked smile. "Tis just a wee bit of water. Ye should try manning the guard squads protecting the miners who be sittin' next to a magma falls fishin' for adamantium and gems. Nothin' like dodgin' magma blobs the size of a horse to keep ye on yer toes."
"Until that armor of yours all starts to rusts!" N'gawa chuckles as he sees the dwarf standing out in the rain. The hunter has unstrung his bow again and dried off the bowstring before placing it back into the pouch. He looks up at the sky, hoping the rain will not last all night.
"You know how to prepare bug meat, Sasha?" Misha smiles. "I'm sure there's bugs to eat in the ruins too."
She turns and nods at Henry. "I'm all for surveying this place as soon as we're able."
"Do any of you think it's possible to get to the wreck? Sorry if I'm being a b@&$* about this, but I feel it's our respons'bility to check for other survivors and try salvaging anything out of there."
Siera thinks to the cargo holds of the Jenivere, making a mental inventory of the cargo being transported.
"We had ample provisions before leavin' port, and those can help us get by around here while we explore this place. Also, I'd like to try and wrap my head around what the hell happened to the rest of the crew for us to make such an idiot mistake to approach this godsforsaken island."
Varg winks at N'gawa. "No harm done. Me armor kit was in the chest with the armor so some rags and oil and I be good." he says. He turns to Siera and shakes his head. "Not right now lass. This rain be more then an inconvenience, comin' down this heavy it's a wall. Ye go too far out from shore and the island would vanish."
"Yeah, we'd need to fix the rowboat first to get to the wreck, but... if no one's pulled themselves out by now, they're probably dead." Misha shakes her head.
"Problem is, Siera, the crew of the Jenivere was damned experienced. That means if someone aimed the ship at the Shackles, my guess is it wasn't a mistake. But then, I'm not always a trusting sort."
Zababa sheathed his dagger and picked up his discarded sling, returning it to its place.
"I don't know anything about ships, or carpentry, or how we got here. It's irrelevant, anyways, since what matters is what we do now to survive and either be rescued or escape to Sargava on our own. In that light, if there's even anything left of the Jenivere after this storm, it would be better for us if the ship were to break up completely so we could wait for the tide and waves to bring everything to us."
"Siera, I'm sorry, but from what we've learned about last night, I doubt there were any other survivors. Their bodies are likely either lost, or trapped inside what's left of the ship."
The rain kept pouring down for another two hours, until the most opressive midday heat had run itself out. The downpour stopped as swiftly as it had begun, as if some mechanical contraption had been closed in the sky. It was still hot, but the temperature began to fall, becoming more bearable.
Ishirou, the Tian man, looked gruffly into the group. "Well, we'll need to set priorities. I've had my share of rough spots, and none was helped by not having someone in charge. So we get a clear leader, who puts up clear priorities. Not this silly tonguelashing and discussion about every move."
"And that leader would be you, old man?" Gaelik replied, his tone cordial despite the accusation he just levelled. "I think we best put off squabbles about responsibility until we have at least a roof over our heads. We can still play games of status once our bargaining chips are not who gets the shinies piece of driftwood." The self-proclaimed pathfinder had a way with words - or more correctly, a way to make even the simplest statement sound profound.
Sasha, nodded empathically. "He's right. We should put things for a vote. We can do it all, but we need to set priorities." She tossed a dagger into one of the trees stabilizing their shelter. "So we have 3 things to do - build up this shelter into a real camp. Repair the boat and check the Jenny. And get further inland for food, information and a chance to make it off the island. Did I miss anything?"
Alton, feaverish and pale from his wound, spoke up. "Fii... find the snake." he shook. "The snake, find it. It sheds skin..."
Sasha shrugged. "Or we can go inland to find 'the' snake, i suppose."
"I'm liking the idea of fixing that rowboat and checking on the wreck of the Jenivere, something doesn't feel right about being this far off course and we might find some clues, or a least supplies, among the wreckage."
Henry volunteers for helping with the rowboat and making the perilous ride across the waves to the wreckage.
At the words of Alton, a grimace of disdain crosses Henry's face.
"Snakes! I hate snakes! Let's avoid those if possible."
Misha squirms her way through the crowd of folks in the lean to, to check on Alton, putting her hand on his forehead--and noting immediately how hot it was. "Did you see something, Alton? Before the ship wrecked?"
I... I understand Zababa. I just hoped someone somewhere out there would still be alive.
Hearing Henry's response, she nods down, eyes alight with purpose.
I will get onto that. I've worked in the ship for a good three years now, and I'll be damned if I can't hammer in a few planks.
The Varisian stepped out of the shelter when the rain was finished and dug into his arm like before to retrieve the small brown lump that came out of his forearm. It fluttered and tweeted once, flying up to his shoulder and spoke in her sing-song voice, "What now?"
"I need you to fly up and take a look around. Let us know if you see any hills or streams or smoke. And come back right away if there is any trouble. I have no idea what might try to eat you, so be careful.
The thrush looked at her master for a moment, cocked her head and said, "Get a girlfriend, creep." This reminded Tshilaba why he didn't bring her out much. As she flew off, he kept an eye on the sky just in case. Aside from his tattoos, she was the only thing he still had from his homeland.
Listening to the other's conversation, he chimed in with "I hardly think we need to worry about snakes. He probably hallucinated them anyway. Besides, what could they do in a jungle anyway? Without arms or legs, they couldn't even climb trees.
Bluff check 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (2) + 7 = 9
Sense Motive 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9
Misha smirked. "Trying to catch someone out, are you, Tshilaba?"
Sense Motive 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 1 = 17
N'gawa looks up at the sky as the storm ends. Then he turns to the others. "I think we should make the shelter and the longboat the priorities. If we can salvage other things from the Jenivere, then we'll have a better idea of what we might need from the jungle. We have a few stores of food now, and as unappetizing as it might sound, Sasha's right. We might be able to get some meat out of this bug here.
"Siera, why don't you get a team together to help with the boat. Another group can work on the shelter and I'll see what I can salvage out of this corpse." He walks over to the centipede corpse and starts trying to butcher it with his dagger and shortsword to see if there's any usable meat.
Survival 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21
Aerys pursed her lips as the discussion began, nodded at Siera's suggestion. "The tide is high right now, so we should get the best conditions close to nightfall. So we might first finish our shelter here. I do not, honestly, consider splitting up an excellent idea."
Ishirou, still somewhat taken aback that his suggestion (or was it more of a demand) was so soundly rejected, added "I agree to her. We'd not have handled that beast as well as we have with half of us gone."
While the discussion was still ongoing, N'gawa set to butchering the centipede. There was plenty of gooey, strangely-smelling meat to it (which, despite some northerner's prejudice, should be perfectly safe to eat). Enough to feed a group twice their size for a week. The tricky part would be to preserve it for any period of time in the humid, hot environment they were in.
Jask listened passively to the discussion, checking Alton's condition. "We have another problem. Alton's not doing well. I am not much of a healer, but he's close to passing out, I can tell that much."
Let me see about easing his pain..., Rafflesia said quietly.
Spontaneous Cast Cure Light Wounds, in place of Command. 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
Rafflesia frowns. No, no, that won'd do at all. Gozreh is displeased... Is it because I've yet to find the natives worshipping his imitations? Because I've failed to bring him to these castaways in most need of it?
Channel Positive Energy (3/day; now 1 remaining): 1d6 ⇒ 6
Unskilled Heal check to find out more about what Alton needs: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14
"I think we need to go inland, to see what we can see. It is unlikely we are going to find more salves in the wreckage, and I don't think a rocky raft or boat will do much for Alton's wounds... or my concentration. We either find help or medicine in the green, or this one will be cold soon."
Sense Motive 1d20+4
Misha smirked. "Trying to catch someone out, are you, Tshilaba?"
Tshilaba winked at Misha, "Ah, I've been caught. It can't all be drama and gritty determinism. At least I got one smile out of the joke. I don't suppose that's too bad, a bard I am not."
And then he looked back at the sky. Where was that cursed bird? She should have been back by now...
N'gawa goes to work slaughtering the centipede corpse. Between blood, guts, and the general stench of the meat, very quickly, the others avoid the butchering area. The stinking meat gets cut out in large chunks, which the hunter assures everyone is safe to eat. He even takes several of the smaller centipede's plates and fits them into his own leather armor, though as added protection or as decoration, you're not sure.
By the hour's end, he is covered in gore and has several piles of meat cut from the bug. He covers each one with a cloth. "It would probably be good if we cooked much of this tonight." He begins making a large fire to roast the foul meat.
as requested by TerraNova in the discussion thread..."agree on a plan of action before announcing you split up...Also, it would help setting scenes". So to set our current actions and locations, here is a summary of where we are at the moment. If I have anyone's location or action wrong please correct it, just trying to keep a little cohesion among the large group and make things easier for our GM.
"Alright gang, Siera and I will set about getting the rowboat fixed, as soon as it's floating again we'll get together a group to explore the wreck." calls out Henry as he and Siera get to work on the rowboat down near the tide's edge.
Just a short ways from the shelter, N'gawa has done a fine job butchering the centipede and now prepares to cook the cloth covered piles of meat.
Tshilaba stands near the shelter, scanning the jungle skyline for his familiar and awaiting the birds return.
Zababa works to solidify the shelter, weaving large fronds through the hatching to help divert the wind and rain.
In the shelter, Rafflesia tends to Alton wounds, but she fears greater healing will be the only thing to save the man and urges the party to explore inland, rather than explore the wreck, in hopes of finding something to help the healing process.
Misha listens to the ramblings of Alton, trying to decipher some meaning, and considers helping either Zababa building the shelter, N'gawa cooking the meat, or Sierra and Henry working on the rowboat.
The always vigilant Vargbrandr keeps a hand near his axe and sets up patrol near the camp, determined to prevent the jungle's predators from sneaking up on the party.
Tshilaba gladly saw his avian companion return to him half an hour later, while N'gawa was still busy butchering the remains of the centipede. Its chatter was excited, though not panicky. It reported there were multiple shipwrecks dotted along the northern coast, but most of them were "long dead", as it put it. Further inland, there were some small bodies of water, though none that would pose much challenge to cross. There was no smoke on the northern part of the Shiv, but it dared not go south because of some predatory birds looking funny at it.
After some more intensive consultation, Rafflesia was certain the wound itself was well and fixed - the nasty smell and the growing pains were not by torn muscle or rend flesh, but by a more insidious foe, one they might fall prey to if they were not careful: Infection. Some illness had taken the sailor, and unless it was stopped soon it might even kill him.
Anyone attempting to build the shelter, please make a profession: Woodworking or related check. Survival also counts
Work on the shelter progressed, and the group had a good feeling that it might last - though some shortcuts were taken, and missing material became a problem soon.
The rowboat grew back to some semblance of usefulness through the afternoon's work, and with the tide retracting, only a relatively narrow channel of water needed to be crossed in either case. The sun was now setting on the far western ocean, and the best time to cross to the Jenivere soon approached.
Survival to construct shelter: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7
"Uhhh, not my best work, here," admitted Zababa in a sheepish tone. "I hope you'll be able to bring back some useful items, Siera, because I think we're going to need them!"
Henry, thanks for the summary. There's a lot of people to keep track of!
Alton having fallen into a silent, fevered sleep, Misha purses her lips grimly. "We've no items or magic that I've got that can take his fever away, and I'm no physician. Maybe if there's anything else to find on the wreck, we can look for it once the rowboat's fixed."
She nods thanks to Rafflesia for looking after him, and moves to help Zababa with the shelter. She's no carpenter, but she has learned a few skills for surviving in the wilderness, hopefully they would be of use.
Survival 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22