NPC attacks
[Blade Touch Rifle 3]Unjamming
[Edge Touch Rifle 4]Unjamming
Kiana opens up on the medium dragon directly in front of her, and puts an arrow through the dragon's forehead, sending it reeling, and then uses it's pain and confusion to sink another into it's chest, sending it tumbling toward the ocean below. Not even missing a beat, she then sinks a long shaft into the medium dragon attacking .
The Edge's half-dragon gunner holds out both hands as he moves five feet, and two revolvers appear in his hands. He then fires off two rounds into the dragon attacking his gunnery crew, blowing chunks out of it.
Brass shakes off the rigging that hit her, firing her rifle into the dragon attacking the other rifleman. That rifleman uses acrobatics and dances back onto the stairs before firing his rifle point blank into the dragon's maw. Unfortunately it rips through the dragon's cheek instead of his head. The other rifleman fires into the beast as well.
Gunfire erupts on both ships, although The Edge's captain screams as her sawed off rifle misfires and explodes back on her.
The port cannon roars, and hits the gargantuan blue at point blank range, making it howl in agony and rage.
The Edge is swept clean of dragons, for the moment. However, The Blade's dragon bane not only misses the Gargantuan Brown, but the starboard gun seizes up from overheating, jamming and smoking. The port misses horribly, but is still working.
The Blade is still dealing with 3 dragons, two mediums and a large.
Dragon Round
Blade Dragons
Edge Dragons
The gargantuan blue slams into the ship, digging it's claws into the timbers as it clings to the side. The giant mouth opens and snaps on the poor ballista gunner. The elvavian woman has just enough time for an abreviated scream before the jaws close and splatter the deck with blood. The dragon swallows the remains, shaking it's head to spatter blood all around.
Two blue dragons land on The Edge's port side and tear into crew members, spraying blood.
A large blue dragon wings around the aft of the ship and snaps up half a halvavian overflight crewman, ripping her to pieces.
The medium brown kills another gunner, and advances on Sammark.
The large brown kills an arbalist gunner, and claws hard at the ship. Planks are torn asunder, rigging ripped apart, and railing clawed and split.
Sorry forgot to post this. I'll post the NPCs saves when it's their turn.
Round 11
PCs
NPCs
Dragons
Reaghar roars in pain, takes a 5' step back and takes a shot at the dragon that bit him after activating his deflecting pattern as a swift action (AC +1)
disruption
HP 15 (+10 temp) -14 = 11/15
AC 20
Sam steps out of range of the beasts as quickly as he can, feeling his strength waning. Still the heat comes to his hand when he calls for it and he levels that power at the blue dragon that has so vexed him.
Connor danced around the falling rigging, folding his wings as wood, sailcloth, and rope rained down. "Some of us are trying to work here! Ow!" he called out in frustration, as he was hit. Amid the screams of his injured fellow sailors Hero told Connor, Those things have big jaws. You need more protection. Connor paused. Hero was right. Connor tapped the tattoo on his wrist, the one he had meant for Alister, who was still belowdecks.
Meanwhile, the astral constructs kept working on the hull. The single construct assigned to rescue moved faster to the centerpoint between the two vessels.
Holding psionic focus (Energy type=Sonic); HP=11-7+10=14 (4 real; 10 temp) Power Points=7/11; AC=18/14/14 with IA; Active Powers=Inertial Armor manifested (2 hour duration); four Astral Constructs active
After her previous target has decided to ignore her, Alys sets sights on the gargantuan dragon clinging to the Edge's side.
NPC Saves
NPC attacks
[Blade Port Dragonbane] UNJAMMING
Kiana kills the dragon attacking , and then switches to the large one attacking The Blade. She finishes that one off as well. The crew of The Edge finish off the other two on their ship.
Brass is hit by a boom and goes down hard, as does an archer. The brown dragon is also hit by a block and tackle, and goes down hard. The crew of The Edge begin unloading into the gargantuan Blue, riddling it with holes. The Captain ducks under a bite from the Gargantuan and then fires a one-handed rifle shot into it's chest, blowing a huge chunk of flesh out. The Blue, riddled with holes from rifles, filled with arrows, and with a giant chunk out of it from weapon roars in pain before it's eyes glaze over and it slides off the back of the ship, tumbling toward the sea. This is fortunate for as she had been brought into claw range by the ship's motion.
The Blade completes it's turn and then unloads with it's remaining Dragonbane on the Gargantuan Brown at point blank range. The dragon is riddled with holes the size of most people's fist, blood and flesh explode away from the dragon, and it roars in agony.
Reaghar steps back in pain, and blasts the medium brown that attacked him, and combined with the attacks of others, the dragon cries piteously and curls up biting at a gaping belly wound before dying.
As the gargantuan blue drops, dead, and the brown is horribly wounded by The Blade's assault, the fight seems to go out of the dragons. The gargantuan brown simply folds his wings up, and plummets out of the sky toward the ocean like a stone. The large blue fires one last blast of breath.
Electricity crashes into the rear of The Edge, smashing into the rudder that's used when it lands in water, cracking wood and welding the copper hinges together. Then the large blue closes it's wings and also drops like a stone.
The medium blues and browns withdraw, and at the end of their movements also close their wings and drop like stones toward the ocean below.
The Edge
"REPAIR CREW! CLEAR THE DECK! OVERFLIGHT! RETURN TO STATIONS! MEDIC ON DECK!" Kiana screams out at the top of her lungs, watching the skies for more dragons.
The Blade
"GET THE WOUNDED BELOW DECKS! GET THOSE GUNS REPAIRED! RELOAD THE CANNON! OVERFLIGHT GET BACK IN POSITIONS, MIDSHIP AFT SHIP!" Captain Sivalla yells, tacking the ship back around to take up it's lead position in front of The Edge.
Holding psionic focus (Energy type=Sonic); HP=11-7+10=14 (4 real; 10 temp; 2 min duration) Power Points=7/11; AC=18/14/14 with IA; Active Powers=Inertial Armor manifested (2 hour duration); four Astral Constructs active
"We...won?" Connor said out loud. The Ashen Edge was still rocking from the last dragon attack. He looked around at the dragon-free sky. "We won!" Connor's voice and arms went up in a cheer with the others.
Connor looked around. The Captain called for the medic. Wounded. Connor ran to the first figure crumpled on the deck, a man whose name escaped him at the moment.
Unable to stop the bleeding, Connor got out his vial of bloodblock and applied it on the man's wounds. Connor checked the man's breathing to make sure he would last for the medic to arrive. "Jimmy! One wounded here!" he called out to his deckhand boss.
Connor mentally told his rescue and recovery astral construct to bring back anyone it was carrying to the Edge. One more up above. Hero sent, and Connor moved to the upper bow deck. Next to the forward mast was Able Seaman Brass on the wood planks. Connor half-ran, half-flew to her, kneeling by her form. He checked her for wounds, turning her over.
Connor grit his teeth in frustration as his actions seemed to make Brass bleed faster. He rolled up his left sleeve, and a wiggling tattoo of a heart pierced by a sword crawled from his forearm to the palm of his hand under Connor's silent mental direction. Connor placed his hand open-faced onto Brass' cheek, willing the psionic tattoo onto the young woman's skin, his fingers immediately curling to tap his index finger on the tattoo's scarlet image. As the tattoo vanished, Connor checked Brass' breathing and skin color, hoping the tattoo would be enough to bring her back from the brink of death.
"One more wounded here! Stabilizing!" Connor shouted to the ship's crew. Connor lifted the young woman, staggering. Connor wasn't a wrestler, and moving the other wounded man would have been impossible for him. But Connor struggled to get Brass belowdecks, as his recent training had emphasized. He looked at the crewmembers running around, and concentrated, bringing more helpers. One to get his healer's kit and more bloodblock from his locker. Four to start clearing and repairing the rigging. One to move the other wounded man down to the stairs to the decks below. The astral constructs appeared around the young man one by one as he slowly moved down the stairs to the main deck, Connor handing his key to the first, while the others spread their wings and launched from the upper bow deck to the rest of the Ashen Edge. "Moving wounded below!" He called out to the other sailors.
Craft (Sculpting) check:
Craft (Sculpting) check:
Craft (Sculpting) check:
Craft (Sculpting) check:
Craft (Sculpting) check:
Craft (Sculpting) check:
A result of 10 to 19 creates a creature that is recognizably similar to the desired creature shape; a result of 20 to 29 creates a construct that looks like an accurate portrayal of that creature type.
N Small construct
Init +2; Senses darkvision 60 ft., low-light vision, Perception -
DEFENSE
AC 18, touch 13, flat-footed 16 (+2 Dex, +5 natural, +1 size)
HP 15 (1d10+10)
Fort +0, Ref +2, Will +0; Immune construct traits
OFFENSE
Speed Fly 20 ft. (Average)
Space 5 ft.; Reach 5 ft.
STATISTICS
Str 15, Dex 15, Con —, Int —, Wis 11, Cha 10
BAB +1, CMB +2; CMD 14
Feats -
Skills: Can perform any simple task of DC 12 or less for its' duration.
SPECIAL ABILITIES (One option from Menu A; one option twice from Advanced Constructs Menu A)
Fly (Ex)
Utility (Ex) (2x - DC 12 ability)
Holding psionic focus (Energy type=Sonic); HP=11-7+10=14 (4 real; 10 temp; 3 rounds left) Power Points=1/11; AC=18/14/14 with IA; Active Powers=Inertial Armor manifested (2 hour duration); ten Astral Constructs active
Alys turns back toward the Edge, above the deck she folds her wings, and gracefully drops onto the planks, as her weapon disassembles. Still need to work on that aiming thing, but this was a decent test run, she thinks to herself. The piece of flesh her new weapon was able to tear out of that dragon might not be quite as large as she would have cut out with her mind blade, but then again she didn't have to step right into the beast's claws to deliver the shot. And with a bit of training, she might be able to fire the mind bolt much faster than she could swing a blade.
"Ah," Sam said, slumping against a railing for a second and getting his breath back. Was he afraid of those things? That did not seem right. Death was not his concern but the noise and the pain cut through his calm like a knife. Cannot let something like that turn his body into a meal.
He moves to the nearest crew member who looks to be in a worse state than him and helps haul him belowdecks, wincing at the strain such action places on his wounds.
Flick descends from the clouds and lands on the deck of his ship. He's wounded, but not terribly so. He looks about to see if anybody is healing the injured
"Wow. So those are the mythical dragons. That bite hurts like a b#!+$!"
The Edge
The crew begins to swarm over the ship, clearing away debris and bodies. Atalantian bodies are taken below, dragon bodies are quickly skinned and the offal and carcasses dropped over the sides. The sails and rope are salvaged, as is the remains of the spar. Everything else is tossed over board. On both ships the ship's medic (one of the able seamen) begin linking up the wounded into groups and then performing group healing, sending healing where it needs to go. They use dorjes to provide extra healing.
The Blade
Flick is yelled at by the first mate, for not being in the air on overflight, but then the first mate sees the blood on the elvavian and nods. "Get below, let the healer tend to you."
Below decks, the ship's healer, an Able Seaman, links people into groups to perform healing on them. Dorjes are pulled out for extra resources.
Connor put Brass into her hammock, letting the ship's medic take over. He met the astral construct on the stairs half-carrying, half-dragging the man from the brown dragon attack, and helped the person to the medic's station. Connor took the healer's kit and bag from the astral construct, pocketing his key again. He watched the Able Seaman use a crystal rod to heal the worst of the injuries. "I have either got to get one of those or better yet, learn to make them myself." Connor muttered. He checked on Alister, still down below, before he went back up to the main deck. Connor sent the two astral constructs to aid the others in the sails and rigging. The temporary hit points from the tattoo wore off, and Connor felt the pain from being hit by a yardsail boom all over again.
The first person he saw was Reaghar, who looked like he had half his back ripped open. "Whoa, Reaghar." Connor said, "Let's get you down to the ship's medic."
Sam finds a quiet spot and waits for the medic to get around to him. Hopefully the dragons were not clever enough to have another flock waiting somewhere to catch them wounded and unawares.
Reaghar get's taken below decks to the crew quarters, which are set up for medical treatments. Wounded people are laying in hammocks, bandaged up. The healers are linking people in and healing them as they can. Reaghar is healed up enough to keep from being scarred horribly by the bites, but he's mobile, so he's a lower priority than the people with broken bodies and broken skulls. Connor, not being critical, is treated for his injuries, bandaged, and sent back to work repairing the ship.
On his own ship, Sammark is mostly the same boat, those who are unconscious getting priority. However, eventually he's healed up as well.
Selvan and the others in the all too often forgotten engineer crew undertake the thankless task of ensuring the airship is back to proper working order after the jarring abuse the battle with the dragons inflicted on it.
Alys examines the wounds she took from falling debris earlier. She should get it looked at, but there are probably others around in more immediate need of a healer's attention. Not having any direct orders, she helps clearing debris.
Connor went back to the bosun Jimmy and supervised the astral constructs doing most of his work. He was disappointed when the "rescue" astral construct came back to the Ashen Edge empty-handed.
Over the next several hours Connor wished several times he had a repairing mental power, because sewing holes closed in sailcloth was harder than it looked. He also wondered if he could use his astral constructs for messages to the Ashen Blade. But once his constructs were out of sight, they only obeyed their last orders. Maybe if he sent Hero along with one...
It takes a couple of days for the ships to get fully underway again. Repairs, as much as can be done, are done. The Edge has lost a 3rd of her sail, and is therefore reduced in speed and maneuverability. Bodies, where there are any to retrieve, are retrieved and put in storage for return to the Islands.
Crew are healed up, and memorial services held for those who died.
Eventually though the ships drop down to a few thousand feet as they approach the continent of Pallandrus, a vast continent, over 3,000 miles wide, and nearly that high. The ships approach the coastline, and begins to fly north, looking for something promising.
After a few days, they find a river going north, with no port at it's mouth. However, as they meander up the river, in the distance, a grand vista of light trees and brush unfolds, and eventually leads to a grand and vast savanna of golden grass and tall thin trees. Strange animals make their way on the surface.
Giant grey beasts with noses like a tube trample the grass flat and rip the leaves from trees. Vast herds of four legged horned animals flash odd stripes on their sides as they race away from the flying ships. Smaller herds of black and white horses also shy away from the flying ships. There are even orangish animals with ridiculously long necks that only daintily eat the tops of the trees.
Thousands upon thousands of birds dot the area, and even fly formation on the ships as they go up the river, making the sailor's jobs of keeping the ships clean that much harder. But the raucus riot of color and noise is hard to begrudge, even with the cleaning.
After a week, the overflight squads see a large city on the horizon. The Blade drops down, checking the river depth (with it's shallower draft making it safer for the ship to do so). The river, being deemed deep enough, soon has two new ships plying it's route. The Blade's props are removed, and screw attachments put in their place, giving it a steam powered engine to tug the now sail-less Edge up the river against the current and prevailing wind.
Finally, a week later, the two ships put into port in a strange city. The city is mostly populated by strange catfolk, which the crew identify as Fashtali. The majority of them are lion headed folk, with great vast shoulders and muscles. Also in the city are taller and much leaner cheetah folk, their spots black as night with their pelts as gold as the grass surrounding the walled city. Also dotting the population are creatures that look like odd hybrids of feline and canine, which the crew find out are called 'Gnolls'.
Khavan males tend to average about 7 feet tall, 375 lbs. But they can be found at anything from 6ft 4 to about 7 ft 5, and anywhere from 300 to 450 lbs.
Khavan females tend to average about half a foot shorter than the males, and average about 275 (ranging from 225 to 350).
Sleeva males and females both seem to have about the same average height, around 6ft 7, and range from 6 to 7 ft 5. Both genders average about 275 lbs, ranging from 225 to 350.
Khavan's are naturally stronger, although Sleevan's are quicker and more dextrous.
Pelt color ranges from a sand color to black for the Khava, and from sandy gold with black spots to a dark yellowish orange from the Sleeva. Khava seem to have more variation in pelt.
About a week after making port, and finding that the locals are non-hostile, if not warm and fuzzy about visitors, Selena pulls the group into a private conference in her meeting room (yes, including those assigned to The Blade). The Captain is sitting in her chair, leaning it back, with her boots on the table when they enter. She's got a mug filled with, ostensibly, mead given the bottle next to her on the table. There are mugs in the center, and a couple of jugs of various types of alcohol on the table. "Well, pour yourself a drink, and close the door behind you. Don't got all day to deal with you lot." She says, waving a hand at the chairs. "And close the door behind you."
Reaghar pulls up a chair and pours a drink, happy about drinks after a long voyage, even if it is annoying to be bossed around by some pirate with delusions of grandeur.
Connor had one thought as he saw the catlike natives and the gnolls. Can you say, 'out of my weight class'? The only tactic he saw was to swarm one of them at a time, keeping it pinned down. That wouldn't work in a mob, of course. But still, they were Wingless. He could fly above them, and stay out of any fights. Connor hadn't seen any body-length bows, but that didn't mean there were not archers in the crowd. Were these the ones the Reville pirates wanted to trade with?
---------
Being called to the Captain's quarters was inevitable. Seeing the rest of what Connor liked to call 'the Mintakia Team' wasn't, however. Somebody had noticed who did and didn't belong to Clan Reville's culture. Connor hoped that didn't mean they were expendable.
Connor poured himself a small ale, standing back afterwards. "Do you need us to go shopping, Captain?" he asked, smiling. "The bosun says we need sailcloth. And maybe some nails. If these primitives actually forge iron beyond weapons?"
The captain laughs. "No, I don't need you lot to go shopping. Sivalla's dealing with their shipwright's guild. She can take her harness off, and 'poof', no wings. Makes the tabbies a little less nervous. These lot are nothing like the Taksians. Then, the Taksian's are mostly a different clan, big burly striped guys who like to swim and have fists bigger than your head." She laughs. "Not that the Leo's seem to be afraid, they're just not used to us. And be careful of calling them primitive, the Master Gunner checked out one of their forges, and they do damn good steel. Even saw some adamantine armor on one of the royal guards."
She seems to be waiting for the rest of the people to sit and get a drink, and ask any questions, before she get's down to why she wants them here.
Connor almost immediately feels a jolt as Sam doles out the price for condescension in his immediate companions. The encounter with the dragons had left the normally snarky half-elf somewhat more introspective than usual. It did not, however, keep him from having a zero-tolerance policy about clanners talking down about people around him. Sammark smiled at Connor as he sipped some hot tea.
"So what do you need then, Cap? Must be something if you called on us specifically," he leans back in his chair and rubs the bushy beard he had started growing on the trip to the mainland. Back home, he had not really been one for keeping his facial hair under control and he had restricted access these days to luxuries like a good razor.
Connor's arm jerked so hard his ale almost slopped over his cup. He glared at Sammark.
Alys sat down but ignored the offer for a drink. "He does have a point. At least I don't see why anyone would just pick random crew members from both ships to discuss something behind closed doors."
The captain actually blinks at that. "Well, if you think you were picked at random, then either I was given very bad information, or you're not as smart as I was told you were."
Alys grinned: "Precisely. Just making sure, I'm not giving anyone any information they aren't supposed to have. With the kinds of instructions we've been given, I can't be entirely sure on who is supposed to know how what.", she paused for a moment: "although it's also possible I wasn't paying enough attention."
Selena blinks again, then waves at a jug. "For shtock's sake, drink something. You're giving me a headache trying to think like a corkscrew." She finally says, sounding a bit miffed. "I'm the captain of the damn ship, and I know everything about anyone on my ship, even if I'm not supposed to. That includes who are spies, who are incompetents, who's sleeping with whom, and a whole host of other things. I even know who are members in good standing with the Assassin's guild."
"Really, there are such people on board?", Alys pulled the jug closer and poured, just a little. "I'll be honest, I'm still working on getting into all this secrecy business."
She was enjoying this conversation perhaps a little more than she should.
"Yes, and I'm perfectly aware of all four of them." The captain tells Alys, a bit sourly.
Alys took a small sip, she grimaced as the strong alcohol flowed down her throat. "-they here for us then?“
The captain laughs, and raises her glass. "Well, that would be the most convoluted way of trimming staff I've ever heard of, having them go after themselves... but if that's what you're telling me, then all I can say is, deal with each other off ship, I don't need the blood stains."
"Not to cut in on the banter but will you tell me who you want set on fire already?" Sam said, reheating his tea with a spark of psionic power.
Connor frowned. Four members of the Assassin's Guild? Including Alys? Connor had thought that since they left the islands that politics would be left behind as well. And assassinations. The...other three Assassin's Guildsmen weren't here to foul the trade mission, were they? Connor had thought he had seen everyone on the Ashen Edge and Ashen Blade working together, if a bit roughly. No "accidents" that caused people to miss shift muster. At least, not yet. What would be the point of an assassination way out here, hundreds of leagues from home? And how would the assassin report back to get paid?
Connor rolled everyone's powers in his head, if they were about to be given a mission in the nearby Surface village. He could make a construct to fly back a message, if needed. Sam and Reaghar had their rays. Reaghar had Vigor now. Alys had her revolver made of undetectable mind-energy. Alister was still sick below. Elrohir had his bow and his speed, Selvan...was Selvan. What they all had was psionic powers.
Connor's brow furrowed as he intensified his thinking about their team dynamics.
"I see... soo... Sammark Bellefonte... you are basically telling your Captain to shut her mouth and quit wasting your time?" The question is rather mildly stated.
Elrohir flies in last, and shuts the door. He floats over to a chair and sits gracefully. When offered a drink, he politely declines. He also stays out of the banter, for now, especially when it seems like Sammark might have just pissed off the captain.
Selvan takes a seat but otherwise abstains from drinking at the moment. Superior officer or not the engines on The Blade take a poor view of drunkenness.
He keeps quiet for now letting Sam dig his own unmarked grave.
But then something occurred to him when he counted up the heads. "Four assassins...never a bad thing to have on a journey like this as long as there's no open contracts on ship and crew."