(1) Atalantia - Scourge of Magic

Game Master mdt

It's the smuggling racket all over again. Flann chuckles amenably while he tries to figure out the correct part of the truth to reveal to these strange worshipers of theft. "Well, you see, he doesn't know much about Her either. We're all, er, winged folk- mostly avian wings. I'm somewhat rare for having lepidoptera physiology, which is where I got the... name."

Flann clears his throat.

"Look, if She hasn't told Her Dee-con about it, I would imagine Her Infinite Sneakitude figured this was need-to-know, or... not worth note. Suffice it to say, I'd like to stay on two legs, and that involves getting to know Tenfa. Promises were made." He points to his hair. "[b]What... er... I've got time, money, and a peculiar set of skills. What would it take to get a primer, and maybe some reading materials?

If Flann doesn't end up getting fleeced, I will be surprised.

"A lepard? Ain't never seen no lepard with buttersfly wings, have ye?" The man asks the woman.

"He said Lepoard Opera, probably one of those stage things from up north. He musta been an actor that Her Tricksyness made have the wings from his costume." The blonde says, looking thoughtful. "Guess she must 'ave had someone in the audience and didn't like somewhat you said, Flann."

The man blinks. "Oh! Yep, that'd 'splain it alrighty. Serves ye right for doing plays that make fun of Her Shadowyness."

When he offers money, both of them light up like lighthouses, and look at each other. "Well now, normally mind ye, we'd have to charge ye the outsider rate, which is 500 gold for a holy book. Gotta keep them holy books protected, ye know."

The blonde nods. "Yep, but I tell you know Wellsy, I feel sorry for him though, let's give him the Accolyte discount? We can sneak it on the books right?"

The man nods, rubbing his chin. "Yeah, Ah guess we could."

The woman nods. "We can set you up with an Accolyte's tome for 100 gold."

Bluff: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (3) + 14 = 17
Bluff, Aid Another: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (2) + 12 = 14

Sense Motive DC 19 to notice they're scamming Flann, and they rolled horribly

Connor found Telv watching a play, some sort of historal revisionist piece about the creation of psionics, but told from the perspective of mounts ridden by the heroes. Telv seems to be enjoying it greatly.

After listening to his spiel, Telv will say "When did they put potions into tattoos?"

Connor found Telv watching a play, some sort of historal revisionist piece about the creation of psionics, but told from the perspective of mounts ridden by the heroes. Telv seems to be enjoying it greatly.

After listening to his spiel, Telv will say "When did they put potions into tattoos?"

"When the potions started exploding, back home." Connor replied seriously, whispering. His eyes flickered up to the play. "I wonder if they'll put that part in the program."

There wouldn't be a play about psionics, 99.9% of the people in the city don't know about them. It's probably a play about psychics though, which might be eye opening for Connor, as he's never heard of psychics before.

Adran spends the weeks hanging out. Eating, drinking, a game of chance here and there. Worshiping at the temple of naked ladies, just enjoying life and some of it's pleasures.

So basically, Adran spends all his money and then starts mooching drinks off Connor?

I mean food/day for good quality is 5sp, so 21gp for 6 weeks. Then a pitcher of wine or two a day at 2sp each would be another 17gp. I wouldn't see spending more then a 100gp over the 6 weeks.

So basically, Adran spends all his money and then starts mooching drinks off Connor?

(And you guys wonder why Connor is selling books.)

Adran spends the weeks hanging out. Eating, drinking, a game of chance here and there. Worshiping at the temple of naked ladies, just enjoying life and some of it's pleasures.

This is the drain on your resources, not the wine and food.

I have a feeling this isn't even the front of the temple. I think I could take ten, but rolling is more interesting.
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 11 ⇒ (20) + 11 = 31

"Oh, wow, I don't want to put you out like that. I mean, if they're so valuable... How about a rental fee? A few minutes, supervised, with your holy text, and I'll even show you a trick afterward. How does 10 gold sound?"

Planning to use Unwavering Skill with Autohypnosis to ace a few hundred Memorize checks. Then, pull the eidetic memory "pick a page" trick. He'll have to spend time actually reading the book, but this gives Flann a magicless copy of the book. Plus I think Tenfa might get a kick out of Flann tring to steal a tome from under her Deacon's nose.

Ah I thought the worship was free at the temple :) Adran will be laying low then. Keeping a low profile not spending his coin to worship so to speak :). This will help as my posting will be sporadic as well while traveling :)

She is the patron goddess of prostitutes... says so in her writeup I posted. You have to make donations to the temple to spend time with her priestesses. The higher the rank, the more you have to donate (a night with that high priestess you ogled would cost about as much as Connor's ship). They turn around and spend that money to help the poor, and those in need. Soup kitchens, orphanages, and so forth.

The two halflings smile. "Good, ye ain't as dumb as ye look." Says the male halfling, apparently not at all concerned about not fleecing Flann.

The blonde nods. "You can drop an offering in the Pot of Loose Fingers, and the Accolytes Library is on the second floor, top of the right hand stairs, first door on the right."

Flann enters, and see's a rather clean and well crafted, but not ostentatious worship area. There are wooden pews, all crafted finely, and a statue of a female halfling riding a giant eagle. I know, the picture is of an owl, but it gives the best idea of what the statue looks like. No bugbear either, just the eagle and halfling.

There's also a large pot/jar with a sign on it. NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR MISSING FINGERS IF YOU TRY ANY TAKES BACKSIES. IF YOU CAN GET IT OUT WITHOUT LOSING FINGERS* IT IS YOURS. Beneath it, a small * proclaims *Or hands, or arms, or toes, or other painful bits in much smaller script. No doubt the donation pot you were told about (it's almost as tall as Flann). There are dark stains on the floor that look like dried blood all around the pot.

There are stairs going up and around to both the left and right.

Flann spends a minute looking up at the statue. He has already learned quite a bit about Tenfa just from the attitudes of Her clergy. "A giant moth would be cooler," he says, teasing. "I do think we see eye to eye on what's important, though." He pulls a handful of coin from his beltpouch and tosses them up into the urn. "Lucky for you, I have no concept of the value of coin." (30 gp)

He eyes the left-hand stairs, curiously, then heads up the stairs on the right, moving carefully.

At the top of the stairs, he finds the library. There's a few halflings in the area, sitting quietly at tables reading. There are a few in the back practicing lock picking on locks at tables.

Give me a Perception Check

Perception: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (3) + 15 = 18

???: 1d50 ⇒ 33

Flann goes to take a scroll off the shelf labeled 'ACCOLYTE', but misses the wire attached to the back of the scroll. A bag of sand falls from above and slams into the top of his head!

Non-Lethal Damage: 4d6 ⇒ (3, 3, 4, 3) = 13 Reflex save, DC 15, to halve the damage

There is a round of titters and hushed jokes in the library as the sand makes a loud WHUMP-a-WHUMP as it hits first Flann's head and then the floor.

Reflex: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12
50/63 HP. I'll be very entertained if Flann gets knocked out on his first day of prank school.
The sandbag didn't hurt nearly as much as the laughter. Tenfa, God of practical jokes. Flann had a sense of humor, but it tended toward irony. He half-expected the chairs to be equipped with air bladders.

Tugging at his focus, Flann goes unseen, giving him time to take cover on higher ground, and manifest Chameleon. It's a classic back home, but maybe these folk hadn't seen it. In any case it should get the eyes off of him while he studies the scroll.
Unseen is a Shroud Archytype replacement for Wind Reader. It allows me to go invisible for 4 rounds, then Chameleon is +10 Stealth, which puts me at a +26. I'm interested to see if anyone here could detect a 36 Stealth from taking 10. Chameleon has an Olfactory display. Disinfectant, if I can choose. Not sure if that's for 20 minutes or 80. It's my new Marksman power, and it's based on level.

Depends on whether there are any higher level people in the room, lets' find out...

Highest level in library: 1d20 ⇒ 4

Nope, unlikely that anyone level 4 or lower can see you. You are in the accolyte's library, not unusual that it's level 4 and down.

Flann's scroll ends up being a primer on Tenfa and her mate Verin, with bits of insight into their abilities, beliefs, and structures.

This Varin guy relieved some of the alienation Flann was experiencing. Maybe there was space here for someone less inclined towards pranks and theft. Freedom was surely an admirable ideal. It was what brought him here. His had been the stone of air, and what is a rifle but an advanced sling staff?

He would have to research these foreign words: Azata, Agathion, Protean... Do we know about other planes?

Flann ventures out, carefully, to search for more. He's already planning to come back tomorrow. Several days, in fact, if he continues to have trouble finding material to memorize for later reflection.
Perception: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (2) + 15 = 17
Wow... That'll teach me to roll when I could easily be taking ten.

Yes, but in general, you only tend to deal with elemental planes, not good/law/evil/chaos planes

If it makes you feel better, you can't take 10 in the temple, it's geass'd

As Flann pulls another scroll from the shelf, he misses a magic glyph it was covering, and there's a cloud of pink smoke, and more titters of laughter as his invisible form is briefly outlined in bright pink dust. Also his eyebrows grow 6 inches long, but he doesn't notice it since they grow out and curve around his head rather than growing down

This scroll is a discussion of locks, tumblers, and how to bypass them. Basically a beginner's manual for disable device

"Given the uniqueness of this tome, would a price of a thousand gold pieces be too much to ask?" Connor asked, ready to haggle.

Quick question, does Connor detail the weapons used, or just 'firearms with a rapid reload speed' type detail? I'm guessing the latter, given his lack of crafting skill for firearms

(Connor's no gunsmith, so his description would be "whale/dragon-sized ballista harpoon" or "gunpowder cannon" with the inch-diameter at best. All he did was polish the brass, after all. He does have Pro:Sailor 10 now, however.)

(mdt, not to complain, but Connor's still in the Proctor's office. If you want to shortcut this, Connor is prepared to accept 200 gp for the book on Atalantia, or be overjoyed with the 1,000 gp price. Either way, on the way out Connor will offer to write another book on the Northern Continent, along with tales of cat-people of Nierva, the orcs of Savatha, and the Northern Drow. Connor does have a ship's hold to fill. He says the information is only a year old. And at the same price as the Atalantian book.)

No, sorry, I thought I posted to that, maybe I didn't or maybe the forum ate it

The proctor looks thoughtfully at the tome, and then nods. "Very well, I shall issue you either 1000 GP credit with the local shops, or 800 GP in gold. Which do you prefer?"

"I'll take the credit." Connor replied immediately.

"Of course," he offered, "if the Regent is desiring first-hand knowledge of the Northern Continent, especially the cat-people of Nierva, the orcs of Savatha, and the mysterious dark-skinned elven ambassador at Savatha's capital, I could write another book in the next week. The story is approximately a year old. For the gold pieces this time. I do have a skyship's hold to fill before I return home." Connor idly fingered the Kalliertian chit he still wore on his necklace.

(Any countrymen reading this or learning about this don't have to worry: Connor is writing from an adventurer's perspective, not a secret agent's perspective. While still informative, the book(s) do not point out the differences between magic and psionics, or the possible ramifications to Atalantian elders and citizens.)

(Notice Connor did NOT say anything about Tenfa's underground city, or psionic details about said ambassador.)

The Proctor looks thoughtful. "Go ahead and write it up, I'll see how much he'll be willing to pay in the meantime."

"It will keep me occupied, rather than listen to another Doomwhale tall tale from one of your pensioners." Connor stated, agreeing.

Three weeks after the group deals with the dragon, Connor (and a handful of picked crew) is allowed to see the Elephant. It's looking ship shape, all the damage is repaired, the whole ship has been re-varnished with a new varnish that has a deep luster to it. The main mast is replaced, and all the brass and trim is polished to a luster, even the old engines are all polished up and have been given a clear coating that's heat resistant and stops rust.

The owner of the shipyard nods at the engine, as you go below to inspect the refit. "We're all done except for that engine, had to send for an expert." She nods at a lavender haired gnome with a prodigious pack full of tools that's bigger than she is. She's got a cigar clenched in her teeth, her sleeves are rolled up to her elbows, and she's got grease on her hands and several splotches on her face. "This is Altina Gearloose. She's from Iska, had her flown in by Tenfa's temple to do the repairs."

The gnome looks up, and grins. "Hey Feathers, nice engine you got here. That is, if you like engines that were designed by deranged dwarves with no idea what they're doing." She laughs, and takes a big puff off the cigar. "Nah, it's not that bad. Not a bad design honestly, but whoever did it didn't think about the long term metal fatigue caused by thermal expansion and contraction. On top of that, they used a steel pipe that can rust out inside, which is what it's been doing for the last 20 years or so, and then you take a cannon ball to the armor shielding and all that rust blows loose and gathers in the gears and compression chamber. The compression chamber gets blocked up, the pressure builds, and then you get a cloud of smoke that's powdered rust and a big rumble. You're bleedin' lucky you ain't already had a fatal blow out with this thing. If the compression chamber had ever locked up completely, you'd have had bits of engine tearing through the opposite hull, and anything in between, like crew, central spars, you know, unimportant stuff. And anyone that didn't get shredded by the shrapnel would have been steam cooked by the steam releases." She picks up a piece of pipe and tosses it to Connor, the inside is pitted with rust. "I'm replacing the bad pipes, and blowing out all the rust I can with an air elemental. Then I'm doing a full maintenance on the other engine. However, I strongly suggest you do a full engine replacement on this tub before you get in any more fights. Or at least don't let them hit the engine with a cannonball again." She says, taking another puff. "Might take a year but my shop could build you a pair of new engines, if you can get this tub up to Iska. Might cut you a deal on it to, if you let us have the old engines. There's some design stuff on them I like."

(mdt: any offers for Connor's Travels on the Surface: A Merchant Guard in Nierva and Savatha ?)

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(Connor crafted psionic muleback cords (APG, Animal Affinity, 1,000gp, .25 lbs.) for Flann, spending the rest to get more psionic crafting material and more blank books.)

When Connor finds out about Flann's trip, he laughed. "When you've got a female friend, you don't read up on her - you ask her directly." he said, tapping one temple on his head. "I have been reading up on the other Surface religions, however. Adran seems to be spending all his time and coin at one particular temple." Connor grumbled.

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Knowlege: Geography: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (3) + 9 = 12

"In Elishtru Seevra?" Connor responded dubiously.

"Connor of McIntyre. With my top crewmembers." Connor introduced himself, half-spreading his wings with a bow. "I wasn't assigned a warship, but told to go and make a profit with this older vessel. A lizardman sky-pirate by the name of 'Grimjowl' attacked us out of the blue, and we're lucky we made it here to Masiaarin at all."

"As favorable as your offer stands," Connor continued, "the Wandering Elephant is going straight home. We have a trade agreement to convey without delay, and is my only hope at redeeming myself to my merchant owners. But thank you for the diagnosis, I'll be sure to protect the engines on the way back."

(Anybody else interested in keeping our cover story, as well as the only way back home?)

Wrong end of the continent for that. Northern shores would be more interested in it, they do some limited trading with the northern continent. You're almost as far away from the Northern continent as you can get. The Regent might be interested, but you haven't heard back from him yet.

Gearloose frowns, and then spits to one side. "Don't lump us in with those stuck up Elves. Iska's Iska, and won't ever be anything but Iska." Connor vaguely remembers now that Iska is a small country, whose capital is also called Iska, that is independent. "Well, keep my words in mind." She nods at Flann. "My clan makes those guns your friend has there, so that should give you a good idea of what kind of work we can do. Way better than the stuff you Atalantean's made. Gotta give you props for coming up with them in the first place though. But Cap & Ball? Seriously? That's way too unstable."

"My apologies. Thank you for the education, and your expertise in fixing our skyship. Do you have a company name in Iska, Altina Gearloose?" Connor asked.

"Amprin Mechwerx. Turns out people outside Iska have some aversion to buying anything mechanical that's got Gearloose stamped on it." She says with an impish grin. "Great Great Grandpa Amprin changed the company name from Gearloose Gears and Sprockets."

Flann is staring openly at Gearloose- at least, at her tools. When she stears the conversation his way, he tries to recall as much Gnomish as he can from the Rosetta Stone of gunsmithing he found in his gun case. His accent is thick, and as obvious as his word choice. His pronounciation is vaguely elvish. "We consider the shortage of content, cartridge requires more metal." He looks embarrassed, but earnest.

The woman looks at Flann, and shrugs. She replies in Gnomish.

Flann opens and closes his mouth, then responds sheepishly in common. "The isolationists have had control over our government for a long time, I think. We are trying to break that. I for one hope to see more collaboration in the future. Iskan designs are so wonderfully experimental. If you want, we should talk later. I'd like to hear your thoughts on combustion and energy efficiency, but I feel I've derailed the conversation somewhat already..."

Guess it's just Flann and Connor on the ship. Ok, time for things to get interesting

"Yeah, isolationists are a pain. We keep them all in the government, then make people come to us and do business. Same business, just where it is the thing." She starts to explain that, when there are shouts and a din of noise from above.

When everyone reaches the top deck, they can see sails on the horizon, mainly because everyone is pointing that way. The gnome girl takes a spyglass off her hip, and pulls it up to her eye. As she looks through it, gears and lever arms manuever additional lenses in and out. Finally she nods. "Fleet's back... most of it."

The shipwright grins. "How busted up are they?"

The gnome moves the spyglass a bit, and nods. "Looks like you'll need your slips open soonest, I see at least... 15 with fairly extensive damage, and looks like 'ol Hornet's Arse is lashed to two of her sister's with a blown out bow."

The shipwright nods and rubs grins. "Well now, that will fill up everyone's slips. And for pay too." She gives the Atalantean's a jaunty wave. "Get your ship out of my dry dock as fast as she lets you out. I'll leave word the Captain's now allowed aboard. And stay off other people's ships. I gotta go round up my crews before they get snapped up by someone else."

The gnome holds up a hand. "Why don't you get some of the winged ones to go do a fly by and get you some accurate numbers. That ought to be worth a little engine polish before I leave, right?"

The shipwright blinks, and her eyes narrow at Connor. "You got enough people who know how to work on ships to get me some accurate numbers before they get to port? You got about..." She turns to the gnome.

The gnome puts her spyglass away. "Got about 8 hours before they make port, at the rate their travellin. They either got really busted up, they got a few doomwhales they're draggin', or both."

She nods. "You got 4 hours to get out, get some reports, and get back. Get me something useful, I'll get you something useful, we'll work out exactly how much after you get the info."

"Shipwright Rinalda, we shall do our best. Flann, please tell me you studied engineering and shipwright books in the last few weeks." Connor monotoned as he concentrated on his open palm. A spyglass, all bronze and without Altina's accoutrements, popped into his hand. (Call Item, 5pp, 70 min)

Extending it and peering through the glass, Connor viewed the incoming ships.
Perception: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16
Profession: Sailor: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (11) + 10 = 21 (Well, I'm glad I spent the points on this!)

The shipwright frowns. "You're going to need to get on the wing, to earn any coin."

Connor sees lots of ships, he thinks about 2 dozen. He's too far away to tell how much damage though, his spyglass isn't as good as the Gnomes

"Not a problem!" Connor replied, letting Flann take a look through the spyglass. "But any eyewitness information is better than none. Flann, inform the crew everyone below the rank of Mate or Engineer is about to become scouts, reporting to Shipwright Rinalda after they each view a different ship personally. Report name and damage by size. Adran needs to be on point towards those incoming ships like his tailfeathers are on fire! The Mates and Engineers are to meet me onboard the Elephant before I can untie the mooring ropes. Leave two room guards."

With the last, Connor spread his wings and jumped, going for the Wandering Elephant in drydock.

You're already on the Elephant in drydock...

(Heading to the mooring ropes, then.)

Flann heads to the crew to recruit scouts.

Telv was making his way back towards the ship when he heard people talking about a 'fleet' coming in. Not wanting to bother anyone, he instead began trying to move quickly back to the ship, but the road was crowded with many others who were also trying to get to the docks.

I wish I could fly like they do. Telv thought to himself; and just like that, he changed from his 'father' form to that of a hawk, where he began soaring through the air. It didn't take him long to get back to the ship, just long enough in fact to see the others getting ready to fly. Landing next to Flann, Telv says "I can fly now! it's really neat!"

There are only 5 crew who know how to fix hulls, so those 5 take to the air and head out, with the rest begging off admitting they have no idea.

The 5 (along with Connor and anyone else who goes out), find 27 ships. Between them, they are towing 4 creatures through the water, obviously dead. Each creature looks between 100 and 350 feet long, with a massive body and a 40 to 60 foot long spiraled horn coming out of it's head. The horn is easily 2 feet thick at the base of the skull. Imagine a sperm whale, now make it 2 to 3 times bigger, and give it a 40 to 60 ft narwhal horn

Of the ships, some have massive holes completely through them, from the water line up through to the other side. Several have caved in hulls, and are riding low in the water. One is missing the bow completely, and is strapped between two other ships who are limping it home. All in all, the entire fleet is busted up badly.

On returning with the descriptions, the shipwright rubs her hands together. "That's good news. Four whales, even if one is an adolescent, it'll be a good harvest this year. Last few years, it's been bad. And over half the ships made it back. That's nice after last year. From your descriptions, it was mostly the newbie crews who sank, so no surprise there." She nods at Connor. "Ok, that gets me a few hours head start, I'll give you 2000 credits worth of credit with the company, or pay you 1200 gold, whichever you prefer." She doesn't wait for the answer though, she's already hopping over the rail and onto the dock to race back down to her offices yelling people's names and orders as she does.

"I think I'll take the gold this time." Connor said to empty air. He would find the purser later. Connor faced the ones who flew with him. "Good work, and I can see more of the crew needs training on damage assessment!"

(mdt, does this mean the Wandering Elephant is fixed and ready to fly? Or still needs hours/days/weeks of work with Altina Gearloose on the other engine? Do we need to moor outside of drydock for the duration? So I'm asking - time to pull the crew out of the Red Parrot Inn?)

It needs another 2-3 days in in drydock while Altina wraps up the rebuild and another 2 weeks floating a few feat off the water in the bay while she does a clean out on the other engine to prevent this from occurring with it.

"Nice hawk, Telv. But anyone seeing a bird of prey talking is going to be suspicious, nervous, or both." Connor told the colorful hawk on the railing. "And don't let others see you changing form, if you can help it. Especially once we get to the flying islands. C'mon, let's go back."

Connor walked the rest of his crew to the Red Parrot, trusting the Elephant to Altina Gearloose and Rinalda's workers. (Bypassing any confusion about where the Elephant is in drydock.)

At the Inn, Connor paid the five sailors who helped with the impromptu scouting 10 gp each (50 gp total, more than normal pay). He also paid Flann 50 gp, gave Telv 50 gp, kept 50 gold for himself, and put the rest with the First Mate. (Connor's saving up for cannon/cargo again. Flann and Telv, if you need more, just say so. We've still got 2 weeks to go. Telv as a newcomer has some spending money now.)

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The next day, Connor went to the shops until he found a book on general engineering, both bridges and houses as well as shipwrights. That night, Connor used psychic reformation on himself, deciding he didn't need to worry about handling animals, after all. (Switching 1 rank of Handle Animal for Knowledge: Engineering. Now Connor has everything but K:Arcana, K:History, and K:Local.)

He'll need to spend a few weeks actually learning the skill. Per my reading, he can't just gain knowledge, he basically builds up a credit he can retrain a skill to another one

I doubt she has time for it, but... Flann hangs around trying to catch Gearloose in her hypothetical off hours. It wouldn't occur to him at first that there are people who are too busy for a free meal and exhausting conversations.

History and Local are class skills, but I'm not sure if the incoming cast won't have those at a better stat bonus than mine.

He'll need to spend a few weeks actually learning the skill. Per my reading, he can't just gain knowledge, he basically builds up a credit he can retrain a skill to another one

(I can live with that. The power is mostly for psionic powers, anyway. What about Feats, mdt, like swapping out Craft Cognizance Crystal for Craft Tattoo for a day or two?)