Ralf Pennywhistle's page

Ralf rubs his belly. "I don't know about you all, but stomach is just about touching my back, and there's diddly squat in the larder. I think we ought to do a double shift of hunting today, if you ask me. Of course, I'm just an old man, not a brave explorer like some of you..."

Ralf suggests trying to build up a food surplus, since they're almost out of supplies.

Will you take a break during the midday heat or do you want to get your camp up as soon as possible? There will be Fort saves...

Ralf finds a shadowy spot to take a nap (unless otherwise disturbed).

Ralf doesn't object to an execution, but he's disappointed nobody can speak the guy's language.

"Hmm...maybe we can question this fella when he wakes up," Ralf muses. "I don't know what kind of lingo he might speak, but I know a simple charm that allows someone to read all sorts o' heathen writing. If he don't speak our language, mayhaps I could use it on him and we could show him some messages."

Ralf uses his Soothing Touch to stop the cannibal from bleeding to death.

1d20 ⇒ 1

1d6 ⇒ 2

Ralf steps to the side to try to help his friends flank the cannibal and feebly swats again.

1d20 ⇒ 10

1d6 ⇒ 2

Ralf totters over to the nearest cannibal and feebly swats at him with his cudgel, almost falling over in the process.

1d20 ⇒ 19

1d6 ⇒ 1

"Eh? So we're moving, are we? Sounds like a good plan. I hope it's near a stream so we can catch some fish; I have a hankering for some fish, I do."

init: 1d20 - 6 ⇒ (3) - 6 = -3

We're just about out of rations, correct? If so, Ralf will go hunting (hopefully not alone).

Survival: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22

Sorry, I meant to take a 5' step backwards.

Ralf will send some healing energy at Surkhoff.

1d6 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6

"Od's bodkins! What did you do to that poor fellow, you savage?" Ralf moans as he sees "Torch" fall. He steps back and waggles his fingers, sending some healing magic into the fallen man.

boosted cure: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

Ralf is blissfully unaware of any screaming, but he notices his comrades looking concerned.

init: 1d20 - 6 ⇒ (18) - 6 = 12

Seeing the effect of his words on Hrakar, Ralf looks at him with pity. "There there, big fella. I didn't mean to upset ya. I'm sure we can get a way out of here, either by magic or by luck. I swear to Desna and the stars above, I feel it in my bones. It just might take a while so's we better make ourselves comfortable."

Ralf muses to himself: "Too bad there's so many reefs and unpredictable currents around here. There's no raft we could make that would have a hope in hell of getting out of here. The Shiv is famous for its shipwrecks for a reason!"

Ralf will help with the hunting as well.

Survival: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

** spoiler omitted **

Oops...thanks for rolling, Black Tom.

Ralf inspects the wounded party members and helps clean them up.

Heal checks, if needed: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (20) + 9 = 29, 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 22

"Dadgummit, I hope we're not attacked every night like that. Maybe we need to find a more defensible place to sleep."

"Hmmmph? Morning already? Wait...it's still dark -- my stars?! What the devil are those walking corpses doing here?"

Ralf blinks the sleep from his eyes and blasts one of the revenants with positive energy.

Boosted empowered lesser cure on one of the ghouls, Will save DC 15 for 1/2

damage: 1.5*1d8 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 1 = 6 --> 9 damage

...<snore>...

Perception: probably impossible, if it depends on hearing alone

Perception: 1d20 - 3 ⇒ (5) - 3 = 2
Init: 1d20 - 6 ⇒ (12) - 6 = 6

Survival: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16

Ralf will stay up and watch the stars as long as he can while still getting 8 hours of sleep.

Ralf looks skeptical at the flying lizards. "Hm, I guess it's a shame to waste good meat, but these two brutes don't look very savoury to me."

He'll assist in dressing the carcasses, if asked.

Getting lost Survival check: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (4) + 5 = 9

If the monsters get within 10', Ralf will use a cone of Cramp on them (reduce speed by 1/2 for 1 round, Fort save negates).

Oops! missed some stuff.

Survival 1: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (11) + 5 = 16
Survival 2: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12
init: 1d20 - 6 ⇒ (10) - 6 = 4

Ralf struggles to his feet and totters after them. "Say, where are you going? It's dangerous out there, you might get lost! I better go with you, make sure you all make it back to camp in one piece."

Ralf nods sagely in agreement with all of the suggestions.

Did Hrakar heal everybody up? Who's still injured?

Apropos of nothing in particular, Ralf opines: "I love the night time -- the moon and the stars above are so beautiful, and they calm my soul. It's too bad it's so blasted hard to see in the dark, at least compared to whatever wild animals are out there. Well, we better get some shut-eye pretty soon; tomorrow we have to work on finding a way out of here, somehow."

I didn't hear anything...

Ralf looks relieved at whatever Qui was mumbling.

Did anyone heal up the HP damage that was suffered during the fight(s)?

Ralf slaps his balding head with dismay after reading the journal. "Oh my stars and garters! I should've known there was something fishy with the Captain's course, but I just figured he was doing a little business on the side. I never reckoned he'd gone off his nut for some woman. I must be gettin' old -- mighty, mighty old..."

--

Ralf nods with approval as the shackles come off Jask. "That's better. Now don't think for a second that we're not keeping an eye on you, mister. I don't trust you further than I can throw you. But we all got to stick together if we're gonna make it out of here. Now let's get this campsite as ship-shape as we can; who knows what nasty buggers might come crawling in here after dark."

--

When he has a moment, he turns to Qui and clears his throat. "I don't know quite how to say this, little feller, but did you notice you got some kind of monster following you about? I hope it's a tame one. He don't bite, do he?"

Ralf will offer his services as a medic, although he's much better at it outdoors after the sun goes down. He recommends fortifying the camp as much as possible before exploring.

Hmm, I'm seeing a bit more support for WoP. How many of you have actually used WoP/seen it used in game? Things that look kinda meh on paper sometimes are good when actually used.

I'm trying it out with an oracle in a play-by-post game, but we just started.

Ralf shrugs at whatever it is Hrakar is saying and replies, "Yep, it ain't right to leave a man helpless in this place; it just ain't right. I don't care what he's done."

He turns to Sasha and Ishirou and pipes up: "Say, why don't you folks lend a hand? You can't leave all the hard work to an old gaffer like me! Unless you fancy sleeping in a bush tonight while we're all snug in our hut..." He winks to show he's joking about the last bit.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16

Ralf is delighted by the amount of stuff that the boys managed to salvage from the ship. He does his part in helping set up the camp site, but he also suggests freeing Jask from his manacles; "It just ain't right to keep a man tied up when there's cannibals and wild beasts around, dadgummit."

Survival: take 10 for a result of 15

Meanwhile, back on shore Ralf hunts around for a rock and tries feebly to smash Jenk's chains open, thinking that it's not humane to keep a fellow castaway shackled in a land of cannibals and other dangers.

Ralf is still on shore resting his old bones, blissfully unaware of the ruckus on board the ship.

"Say, is anyone here still hurt? I know a couple of tricks that might make you feel better," Ralf offers.

He hobbles over to Jask and eyes him warily. "I don't know if I can trust you, bud, but it looks like we're all in the same boat now, so we might as well get rid of those glim-fenders, I s'pose, if you promise to be on yer best behaviour. Anyone got a hammer and chisel handy?"

Ralf continues blathering on about the Smuggler's Shiv. (See GM's spoiler above for details.)

Ralf plops down on the beach and starts leafing through his sheaf of notes. "Now where did I...I think I wrote it down here somewhere..."

Use focused trance on Know: Geography

1d20 + 6 + 20 ⇒ (2) + 6 + 20 = 28

"Aha! I know exactly where we are. We're on the Smuggler's Shiv. That's north of Eleder. Pretty shady place though, so I hear."

Ralf will cast Lesser Cure on the person who looks the most injured.

1d6 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 1 = 4

Ralf moans, "Oh...my aching bones," and then his eyes start out of his head as he sees the big bugs. He stands up, ducking and weaving as best as his shaky legs will allow.

Take total defense and then stand up.

You're lucky you rolled a 20 -- otherwise it would have been a TPK and we'd have to roll up new characters!

;-)

Init: 1d20 - 6 ⇒ (12) - 6 = 6

Eventually someone grabs Ralf by the arm and makes an eating motion with his hand, indicating it's dinner time. For an old geezer, he dives into his meal with relish, talking with his mouth full.

Fort save: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18

Ralf grins. "How do you do, dwarf? We don't get your kind on board ship very often, I can tell you that for free!"

Note: Ralf is a crewman, not a passenger. He takes the night shift at the helm.

I'm for some reason unable to edit my posts; in my last message Hrakar's admiration was directed towards the captain, and the way he handles the crew with a firm hand

There's a one hour editing window; after that, you can't edit any more.

Ralf nods again. "Something about that guy...I'm gonna keep an eye on him, I think."

Ralf nods sagely, oblivious to the question. "Say, have you taken a gander at that prisoner? I didn't catch his name, but he looks like a kind of unsavoury type, if you ask me."

As he walked the deck, he passed the old man at the wheel who was attempting a tune. As he walked by, Qui whistled a much more in-tune accompaniment, winking at the old man as he did so.

Ralf hollers, unaware of his volume, "Howdy, half-pint! Beautiful night for sailing, isn't it? I tell you, there's nothing that makes a man feel more alive than breathing fresh sea air and looking up at the stars. Well, maybe there's one thing, but I'm not a spring chicken any more; my days of chasing girls are behind me. How about you? You got a wife and kiddies at home? I'm an old bachelor myself, nothing to tie me down, footloose and fancy-free. Being the wife of a sailor is no way to live, if you ask me."

Ralf whistles a happy tune (rather tunelessly) while manning the wheel as he keeps one eye on the stars.