Adran wonders over to Connor again and tugs on his pant leg.
Aaaa... Boss was it? See these hands there so small. I'm not suited for the pulling of ropes and all the work stuff. Now my eyes keen as a hawk. So how bout I be the look out. Sound good?
"Number one," Connor rumbled, "don't call me boss. It's 'Connor'. Never tell the enemy who's leader. Our old group had several different people running the show at different times. Of course, it was easier when we had telepathy..."
"So, boss-man Connor. If we are signing up for berths on the ship, I can tell you now, I'm good with maps and machines, but I won't be able to help with much beyond those."
Frustrated, Connor looked over at the bearded Humavian in the group. "Rory!" he shouted, "start acting captain-like! You got me for the sails, Adraniel here wants the crow's nest or Overwatch, and Kyzin for navigation, sounds like!"
Connor raised his voice again. "Listen up crafters! And alchemists. Sounds like we won't be seeing a major city for weeks! So if you can craft, grab the raw materials now! Anrive's a stinking jungle. Unless your resume includes 'herbalist', I don't think you'll be getting reagents and needles!" In a softer tone, Connor added "And everybody grab their own tattoo and power stone materials. And hammocks. I can't carry it all, you know."
To Kyzin Connor muttered under his breath "Go pick up a sextant while Alsatia's isn't looking. Navigator's tools. Anything. That boat's probably been picked clean."
"Settled it is then! Let's at least look at the damn boat before you start volunteering! And you!" Rory bellows pointing an accusatory finger at Adraniel."Too small hands! I imagine they're big enough to wipe yer mum's best out of me beard two small hands!! Maybe they'll be big enough to hold on to a rope after I tie your wings together and throw you off the side two small hands!!!" Rory roars though with quite a bit more volume than outrage it seems.
"Since I'm the one who has to turn you sorry lot into a shape resembling sailors I'll be the one that determines whether or not you're too small!"
With that Rory adjusts his hat and swaggers out to his new(ish) boat.
Elara adds some hot weather gear to her pack. "I'm not much good around the ship short of lifting heavy things. Don't expect much." She looks to Kyzin. "How long'll it take to hit Anrive, you reckon? I'll need eight hours to get myself looking different enough." Then to Connor. "I'll go help get the ship more in order, boss."
Kyzin nodded at Connor's instructions and set off to procure the navigational equipment before that Alastia girl returned from the magic chamber. After a short search he was able to turn up what he though was needed and wrapped it up with the rest of his gear. With his load bundled up and ready to go, Kyzin started to head out to the ship when the wingless one, Elara was it, stopped him to ask a question. She wanted to know how long the journey would take. "To be honest, I don't really know. I found a map inside, but since we don't have directions are where to go, nor do I know exactly where we are now, not to mention I haven't studied the map yet, I can't say. Once we've got more information I'll be able to hazard an accurate guess at the duration of our flight."
Upon arrival at the ship docked outside, Kyzin turned to the burly pirate "Where do you want the navigational equipment?"
Alys scrounges a bunch of crafting materials together before leaving for the ship.
Connor started memorizing the location using his autohypnosis. It wouldn't hurt to remember this place. Especially since it was on the Plane of Earth. he thought to himself.
The door to the magic area opens, and Alsatia returns. As she flutters along, a mechanical monstrosity hisses and clomps along behind her. The thing looks something like a cross between a horse and an octopus made from clockwork. On it's back it carries a large keg made of a dark wood, with what looks like mithral bands holding it together. A mithral spigot sticks out of the side.
"Right! Those who have to change their looks, get over here. Those who want to not be recognized by ex spouses with court orders on their gold as well." She says brightly, and pulls a flagon out of her belt pouch. The flagon is filled from the mithral spigot, and she holds the flagon out for someone to take. "Drink up! What doesn't kill you makes you look different." An evil looking white fog flows over the top of the flagon's rim and spills down the sides.
I don't like this. I did nothing wrong, but if I'm to figure all this out guess I have little choice. Adran wonders over and takes the flagon. As he drinks the liquid at first is sweet but quickly becomes bitter and foul tsting. He gags but chockes it down. As the magice washes over him his white feathery wings turn black. His black hair turns blond. His body extends giving him another six inches of height. His eyes widen and his facial features go from round and full to being sharp and defined. Looking himself over in a mirror he smiles and jumps and dances around a second.
Woohoo, I got taller. He looks up to everyone still seeing they toser over him. [b[Well it matters to me.[/b] He smiles. He then reflects on the words from Rory.
Tie my wings. He wants me to do somehting he will need to offer me soemthing in return. Acts like he wasn't just a prisoner as well. No worries though, best not ruffle feathers. Need to keep a low profile.
"...alright. Let's try for something tricky." Elara takes a flagon, a breath, and a gulp.
She looks in surprise at the cup and licks her lips as she begins to change. "...huh."
Her skin ripples and bubbles. A hideous burn mark surrounds her right eye, streaking over her scalp as hair recedes away around it; reaching around behind her, she rips open a gap in the back of her trenchcoat for new flesh to push through; the hideously burnt stumps of what appeared to have once been wings. Her eyes change to blue, iris enlarging, as her hair changes to black and extends to a longer ponytail, dangling down between her wing-stumps. Her face sharpens and her ears pointen.
The burnt elfavian surveys what's happened and grunts in a scratchy voice. "Howzzat?"
"Just place them by the bridge for now. We'll take them in properly when we've properly inspected her." Rory tells the HAlvavian.
Rory downs the flagon without debate ready more than anything to simply get this over with.
"Blech! What in the hells is in this stuff? Licorice my arse!"
Rory's change is not quite as dramatic. His wings, already a fairly dark gray blacken to the color of deep coal. His beard changes to match and his wings adn grows thicker and curlier. However due to narrative sense never allowign him to become skinny he gains about 5 pounds.
Rory's eyes also turn a vivid, almost glowing, green.
Alsatia frowns. "Never saw it do that before."
"Yuck." Connor couldn't help but comment after seeing Elara's mutilations.
Watching Rory's alteration, Connor asked "These changes are going to go away after time, right, Alsatia? Unless somehow you've bottled a wizard's 'baleful polymorph' out of legend there..."
"Don't be silly Connor, I couldn't bottle a spider if you gave me a spider in a bottle." Alsatia says, handing off the flagon to the next person in line. "This is one of the few surviving artifacts from the Old World. Back when the islands were magicentric. It bottles it's own polymorph potions over time. Right now it's full up, well, other than what I've drawn off. It comes in handy. As to getting them back to normal..." She shrugs. "I've seen it done with some magic... off island.. obviously. Last time we needed to undo it, we paid a Genie to do it."
"Do what?'
So what we just drank could have exploded and blew my little head off. So I see how much the higher ups value us. Guess you don't have to pay a dead man though.
Adran whistles and skips around picking up various thing and putting them back.
Alsatia frowns at Adraniel. "You might want to study up some more on the meaning of the words Elemental, Plane, and Earth, Mr. Adraniel."
Now that the pigeon's out of the bag... Connor said internally. "Moving on!" he exclaimed. "Anybody else need the elixir of rainbow brightness?"
Kyzin returned from his trip to the ship just in time for the demonstration of the potion. While the others drank, he took a moment to examine the mechanical monstrosity that brought out the keg full of appearance changing potion. If he could create something like that, purely out of mechanical parts, as it seemed to be, there were about a hundred uses he could think of for it.
As Connor calls the group to move on, Kyzin's reverie is interrupted, and he takes a quick sip, makes a face of disgust, and hurries to find a mirror. The mostly full cup is left precariosly balanced on a strut jutting out from the machine. Upon finding a mirror and studying his reflection, Kyzin finds the face not entirely unfamiliar. His face is only slightly different from the face of his boyhood. The potion seems to have taken about ten years of Kyzin's already young face. As he moves around studying his reflection, he notices that his previously dull white wings seem to have taken on a subtle greenish hue. Smiling in satisfaction, he returns to the rest of the group for departure.
It's a fairly common type of clockwork golem, powered by a psi-crystal. They're not built often, but since they tend to last forever if taken care of, they're actually fairly common. The more wealthy merchants flesh out their ship's crews with a few because they never get tired, never need to sleep, and only need routine maintenance. Military ships keep a few on board for security.
Adran stops whistling when he hears his name.
Whats that, you talking to me. Uh, I know what those words are, but have no clue what your talking about. Maybe you can help me later with them. He gives her a wink and then goes on about his business of playing with things laying around.
Elara passes through the portal and takes a deep breath; trapped air never tastes as good as the clean wind. Swinging herself onto the ship, she finds a corner then dumps her blade, pack and coat. Thinking, she grabs some rope and makes a neck-band to keep her tricorn on. The rare moment to think gives her pause, and she turns and sticks her head back through the portal.
"Hey, pinkwings; what happens after we find these smugglers o'yours? Trial?"
Connor looked at Alsatia. "Just in case the inspectors at Anrive are compromised, or even the officials, what's our options?" He asked, smiling. "Blow up the building and head back here? How deep do you want us to go to find the smugglers?"
As others debate among themselves Rory inspects the boat and assesses everything it needs.
"Try not to blow up the building again.. unless you have to of course. As to the smugglers, alive for trial and interrogation is good, but not if you get killed doing it. AND THEY ARE PURPLE NOT PINK YOU WORTHLESS ARMY REJECT!" She responds, before clearing her throat and continuing in a normal voice. "As to how deep, if you have to walk from one end of Anrive to the other on your tippy toes in a gale wind, then that's what you do." She shrugs. "We've set up a few dead drops, like last time." She hands a sheaf of papers over to Connor. "You know the drill, memorize and destroy. Two pages for you, two for Alys. You can request more when you've had enough time to guage who can keep a secret or not among your crew."
Rory finds the ship to be in surprisingly good shape for it's age. He strongly suspects it was recently refitted and then artificially aged to make the new parts look like the old parts.
Connor took the papers, giving half to Alys . Using his autohypnosis, Connor spoke up after a few minutes. "These don't have city names, so either there's only one city on the whole island, or we'll get to the dead drops when we see the street names?" he asked. Making sure he wasn't near anything flammable, Connor pointed a finger at the edge of his papers, and the material ignited.
"Ugh, paperwork...", Alys takes the papers and begins memorizing using her autohypnosis. Once she is done, she adds her sheets to the fire already consuming Connor's.
Adran watches on as the two look over the papers then destroy them.
Secret mission I see, though she did say something about trusting others. Wonder if it said what our pay was... Damn. Oh well lets see where this goes.
Alright boss's guess I'm going through the portal now. He smiles. See you on the other side. He then looks to Alsatia.
Try not to miss me too much. Maybe we can get to know each other when I return. He winks again and hops through the portal.
Roderick returns from his descent into the warehouse bristling with arms and gear. A pair of bandoliers cross his body from which a variety of knives hang. A few are peculiarly long and hooked, meant for swift slashing blows and it is a humming one of these that Roderick is experimentally tossing. Content with its balance, he wordlessly accepts a potion from Alsatia.
The foul liquid, like horse urine, nearly causes Roderick to gag. Cursing, he asks, "What in the Patriarch's backside was that?!? Pfah..." Further protestations are cut off as the alchemists body begins to shift and change. His formerly white and gold wings grow ragged and darken until dark red and black have completely obscured what was before. His hair, auburn liberally colored by gray, streaks through with white and any color leeches from it. His face seems to age ten years before onlooker's eyes with lines deepening at mouth and eye. And with that, a seemingly new man stands before you.
A more raspy, gravelly voice asks, "We have business to be about, eh? Let's get to it. I had enough waiting and drudgery in the damn mines."
The group tromps out of the house, and down to the dock where the ship is, their equipment piled up behind them.
The ship is, for it's age, in excellent condition. Those with the actual profession (sailor) skill rapidly realize it's been recently overhauled and repaired, and then the new bits aged to match the older bits.
Alsatia comes last, doing something to close the hidden portal, and then pulls Connor and Alys off to the side.
"Alright, now, if you need to fall back and regroup away from Anrive, you can use the house. You won't be able to open the portal, obviously. And before you waste a lot of time looking, the portal isn't attached to the house. I just needed a secure location to open it. The house used to belong to a merchant who was caught smuggling about 30 years ago and forfeited. We keep it up, but rarely use it, except for stuff like this. Nobody should tie it to us except through your group."
When done, Alsatia takes off, her small butterfly wings zipping her along at a very good pace.
The engines of the ship are older, not as advanced as the modern engines, but they still work. The brass engines contain two elementals bound for 100 years into the two tanks. The first tank is a fire elemental, and the second tank a water elemental. The two create fire and water continuously, and the valves control the mixing of those two raw elements.
The steam then drives the mechanicals. This moves the booms on the side sails, and also pushes and pulls out surfaces along the bottom of the ship. It also provides hot water to the ship's galley and allows for a hot shower, as well as an unending supply of water. The steam can also be pumped along the ship's hull to counteract icing in cold weather and to heat the ship in cold weather.
The ship's hull is made of wood from trees that grow on the island of Anrive. The trees were rare, but are now cultivated. They naturally resist gravity, growing several hundred feet high in nature and even surviving if the ground they grow in breaks apart, floating until they encounter more land and then digging roots in. The wood retains this after being harvested. This does limit it's maximum 'height' in air, although some alchemical treatments to the wood as it's curing raises that natural height limit from island height to about 3000 ft higher than the islands float.
The ship's current height is controlled by a combination of the air elemental bound into the ship's hull and the ballast tanks which hold water siphoned off the water elemental.
The only thing Rory is likely not happy about is the ship has no armaments. No cannons, no ballista. However, the ship itself flies spritely enough for it's age.
No Rory isn't happy about that. Piracy or not you still have to defend yourself from the damn dragons. This all but guarantees that he would be insane to leave the islands.
"Alright lads, ladies, and whatever else! Gather together! Gather together! Around me please!" Rory bellows as he gets to the bridge. "Before we go about the business of giving you jobs we need to ensure that the correct people are given them. As you may have noticed we don't have any damned cannons aboard! A bloody fine oversight I'm sure we'll all be thankful for when some relative or another shows up to shake us down! So I have to do the thankless job of turning you into a crack crew lest we get our hull cracked open for a lark! So tell us what you're good at!"
[ooc]Reposting so we know what's relevant
1 Captain
1 Navigator
3 Yardsmen (sail jockeys)
1 cook
3 deck hands
1 engineer
Captain needs to have Profession Sailor
Navigator needs Kn(Geography) (Note, often rolled up into another job, like Captain or cook or engineer or deck hand)
Yardsmen need Profession Sailor
Deck hands need hands and to follow orders, basic knot tying
Yardsmen need Profession Sailor
Cook Needs to know how to cook (Profession cook, or Survival) Often rolled up into Deck Hand.
Engineer needs Profession Engineer and/or Kn(Engineering)
Note that 3 people can, when not in a storm or a fight, keep the ship on course. One sail jockey, one deck hand, one on the rudder. Skeleton crew of 6 can keep it running but they'll be exhausted (8 hours on, 8 hours off, 8 hours on, 8 hours off).
So Rory has profession sailor +7, and Know Engineering trained at +3.
So basically he knows how to work rope, be captain, and not make the fire elemental and water elemental angry.[/ooc]
"I'll be up in the sails. Leave the captaining to someone with more experience with boating."
"I'm strong."
She shoots a mild glare at anyone who makes comment.
"Like told Connor, I will be most useful as an engineer or navigator."
"I also make a pretty good cannon when the situation calls for it."
Before leaving Alsatia and the abandoned island, Connor tells her with a grin, "I know you and Kalvant probably called us 'The Refugees' or 'The Prisoners'. Maybe even 'The Dirty Seven'." Changing his tone almost flippantly, Connor said "Well, I've come up with a new name for us. Call us 'The Misfits...of Psionics.'" He gave the shorter woman a jaunty salute as she flew away.
----------------------------------------
Joining those onboard, Connor contributed to the conversation.
After rattling off his skyship experience, Connor added "I can make six or seven Humavian-sized astral constructs that will follow basic commands, and have the strength to man the sails, or more than twenty smaller constructs to do the jobs. They'll last almost two watches." Connor saw the blank looks on most of the newbies' faces. "Eight hours." he translated.
"I have a mindpower where we can save on food and water. I can also...make things. Out of ectoplasm or, they, uh, just appear. And I can craft power stones. And other things, if I get the time. If you want a trained sailor for each shift, I recommend 12-hour shifts, with Rory on the day, me on the night, and Alys on a swing shift. Or Alys and the night-visions on the night shift and I'll take swing shift. The crafters can get together later." Connor finished.
Adran wonders over as Rory starts yelling about. He looks up at the brash man and waits for him to stop speaking. He gives a tug to his pants leg or coat.
Sir I can cook, and I'm good at seeing stuff around me.
Roderick looks from Rory to Adraniel and back. "I don't know your names but his most definitely isn't sir." Roderick points at Rory and then continues, "In any case, I'm Roderick MacDuncan formerly of McIntyre and first order of business is to establish that I'm a damned fine alchemist. I do things others call impossible with my extracts and they serve me well. I've had some thoughts how I might be able to share them but all my testing thus far has had my guin-" Roderick cuts off what he had been about to say. "My testee doubled over with stomach cramps and worse. So that effort is a work in progress that I hope to renew posthaste. I don't know what else you might need on your ship, but if it can be synthesized, I can make it."
"I'm no expert but I'm capable with a map and I've a good grasp on mechanical principles. I've done extensive studying otherwise and have a plethora of knowledge that can can be available at need. This includes detailed study of tomes from the surface on the religions of old and magic and the like."
"In the realm of the physical, I'm quick on my feet and with a blade. I can climb adequately and have superior balance and agility. I'm light enough on my feet to pass unnoticed, generally speaking. I can pick a lock too, but I'd rather burn it off so we can leave it to our friend."
"Those of you who have been paying attention and have some wits may have noticed is I have a knack for wordplay. I've the capability to turn someone's thoughts around and see the light of reason. I can spot lies and tell them at will, though I'm a sight better at the spotting."
"Was that sufficient information to judge my ability or did you require more rambling?
Rory listens but doesn't add much letting people dig their own graves.
"No, no more rambling out of you. However you're not supposed to call me sir. When we're in sail I am the captain! Just like if we were in the army we might call the outlier here sergeant! But it is less than I feared! And yet more! A bunch of muscles and brains strewn together with nay a complete body among ye damnable cloud huggers!"
And so Rory assigned as best he could.
Adraniel: Deck Hand/Cook
Kyzin: Night navigator/engineer
Alys: Yardsmen
Connor: Yardsmen + whatever constructs do.
Elara: Deck Hand
Roderick: Day navigator/engineer
Rory can aid in engineering and yardsmen work when necessary if actual captaining is not particularly needed. Connor can also cover for navigating when necessary though I suspect most of his time will be dealt with making his constructs work.
That sound good?
"You really didn't assign shifts, other than Kyzin and Roderick. So you want me and Alys the way I described? Elara on night shift?" Connor asked.
Day: 6am to 6pm
Rory
Roderick (down below)
Adraniel (down below when not cooking)
Night: 6pm to 6am
Alys
Elara
Kyzin (down below)
Swing: 12noon to 12midnight
Connor (who can make constructs at 11pm to last until 7am)
So the worst time is Rory on-deck by himself from 7am to 12noon, when Adraniel is not cooking (which always took 2 hours before each mealtime in the Army, 1 hour cleanup). Meals being 6am, 12noon, and 6pm.
Crafting time stinks: Roderick "on the go" during the day, Kyzin "on the go" at night, and Connor "on the go" in the afternoon/evening. So only 4 hours a day, if we all need 8 hours sleep. Because I suspect that most people will be working beyond their 12 hour shifts. Especially the cook.
Most hands on deck: 12 noon to 6pm.
The two Humavian-sized astral constructs Connor had created earlier on the first abandoned skyship stood by the ship's mooring. "Otherwise, let's cast off, Captain." Connor suggested.
I can't imagine keeping Hero the psicrystal on his psicrystal staff all this time. It only buffs his natural armor and intelligence at this level. I would much rather have Hero crawling around the hold, or being a relay between Rory and Connor. My biggest concern is that Hero can't fly, so I'm thinking about putting a Psionic Tattoo of Astral Construct1 on him.
Another acknowledging grunt. "Whatever, cap'n."
Elara pushes her tricorn back and starts getting acquainted with the ship.
The crew manages to get the ship to generally go in the direction they want it. Fortunately, the group isn't trying to hit one of the tiny satellite islands, like the one they got the ship from, they're hitting a main island, Anrive.
The ship takes a week to get around Ash and begin to approach Anrive. The crew then has a decision to make, which port city to enter. There are three main ports on Anrive.
Siltharv - Siltharv is the capital of Clan Straillia's holdings on the northern half of the island. It is a bustling port that exports a great deal of food and medicine to the rest of the islands, harvested from the jungles of Anrive. There are approximately 30,000 people living there, per the last census 5 years ago.
Anshrin - Anshrin is a free-port, claimed by neither Clan Straillia nor Clan Stalmortta. It is operated by whoever can talk or fight their way into power. The two clans tolerate it in order to have a neutral point where they can meet and have diplomatic relations on neutral territory without having to leave the island. The current 'Boss' of Anshrin is Zandra Bloodwing, a surfaceworlder Harpy who managed to find the Islands and forge a home for herself here. Zandra has a reputation for being fair but extremely ruthless.
Lithian - Lithian is the capital of Clan Stalmortta's holdings, and boasts approximately 30,000 people living there, not counting slaves. It is a busy port, with vast storage facilities and slave holding and training facilities. There is also a large 'militia' base maintained by Clan Stalmortta to protect from pirates. The militia base is more akin to a military fortress than a militia HQ though.
Rory shrugs. "Suit yourself Bo'sun. I leave it to you to set the shifts then. I think you'll find a very good reason to hire some lads to watch over the boat very soon. And yes, you are the Bo'sun. If you want this to be any sort of cover I can't have someone talking to me like that without some sort of meaningful rank. Good?"
As they get underway and the mistakes accumulate Rory tries his damndest to hold everyone together and lend a hand where necessary. Neither being particularly abusive nor friendly Rory tries a mixture of encouragement and insults to put people on the right path. Despite how others feel about his bombastic approach to everything Rory's indefatigable presence proves a boon as tired arms are bolstered by his seemingly limitless energy And the yelling, the ever present yelling.
Connor laughed good-naturedly back at Rory. "Let's get this boat moving." he stated. "Hoist sail!"
------------------------
Skill checks, assist if somebody gets a better one.
(yardsman)
(with map maker's kit)
(weather sense?)
(finding the islands)
Make of that what you will, Rory and mdt. :)
Connor spent the first day hooking up his hammock, and spending his last mind-energy making a few small astral constructs for the others to order around. Connor then collapsed into his hammock and snored the rest of the night away.
The second day was worse. Connor used his powers to relieve the fatigue everyone was feeling with the work , only to run out of mind-energy before the end of his shift, which meant instead of crafting he collapsed, again, into his hammock for the night. And snored the night away.
The third day Connor finally got into the swing shift, only for multiple commands from everyone to make one astral construct do enough damage to set him back another day. So it wasn't until the evening meal that Connor was able to approach the others. He had already used his detect psionics during the day to identify what he could on each person. Now he needed more personal information.
Walking up to Roderick, Connor said "Handclasp time, cousin.", taking his hand, closing his eyes, and concentrating.
[dice=Psicraft check (DC 20) to "see" psionic powers by contact]1d20+13[/dice]
And nothing happened. Connor "looked" again at Roderick's powers. "What the?" he exclaimed. Opening his eyes, he asked "Where are your powers, Roderick? I can "see" your reservoir, but you don't have any "writing". It's like you're blank. Like a soulknife."
----------------------
Going over to the others, from the tiny table to the helm, Connor did the same telepathic-contact check. Adraniel: "Blank!". Elara: "Blank!" Rory: "I've seen gladiators in the arena with more elan than you!". And last with Kyzin: "Finally! Stars, you've got a lot of "writing". More than me. Hold still, second cousin, this won't hurt a bit."
[dice=Psicraft check (DC 15 + power's level) to "understand"]23d20+13[/dice]
After several minutes, Connor told Kyzin, "You must be one of the lucky ones who can learn powers easily. Too bad the McIntyres never made you a shield bearer, you would have made somebody a decent Kineticist. Okay, I recognized a lot of your powers from elementary class, but there's a few I didn't. You've got most of the powers our old Kineticist had, and quite a few more. So now take a look at my powers. I think Alys is the only other manifester among us."
------------------------
Connor was able to do some crafting that night. Taking one of his healer's kits, he sacrificed some of the bandages out of it, along with a bloodblock vial, and gemstone dust he had bought, and got to work.
Gladiator’s Gauze
Aura: faint psychometabolism; ML 1st
Slot: -; Price 35 gp; Weight .5 lbs
Description
This small bundle of gauze is typically attached to the wearer’s belt. When the wearer expends his psionic focus as a swift action, the satchel automatically stops any bleed effect on the wearer and is consumed. If the wearer is reduced to below 0 hit points, the bundle immediately is consumed and automatically stabilizes the wearer.
Construction
Requirements Craft Wondrous Item, halt death; Cost 18 gp
Ultimate Psionics, p.414-415.
The fourth day was a lot better, if only because the weather cooperated. Talking with Kyzin again, he suggested "Focus on healing tattoos first, if you can. Alys and I are already covered. I think Rory also has tattoos of healing. Here." Connor gave the other person a package in wax paper. "It's a hundred gold coins' worth of tattoo materials, based upon what our old tattooist used. Make as many healing tattoos as you can first for the others. Then we'll see if you can scribe my Sustenance, Cleanse Body, etc. I'm making gladiator's gauze, which will be automatic if someone falls in battle, but I can't make enough to cover everybody. I do have one request - a tattoo of my astral construct power."
Giving 100 gp's worth of psionic tattoo materials to Kyzin.
------------------------
That night, Connor duplicated his efforts from the previous crafting, making another set of gladiator's gauze.
Item one: steam leaks are not your friend! Connor noted. That had been a close one. An inch taller, and he'd be wearing a head scarf for a reason for the rest of his life.
Going up to Adran and Elara during dinner, Connor handed each a small bundle of gauze wrapped in silver and steel wire and smelling of bloodblock. "Here." he told both of them. "We've discovered in battle it's easy to get separated and start dying. Courtesy of the crafters, this gladiator's gauze will at least stop the bleeding. If you can use your autohypnosis to tap a healing tattoo or use a potion, we're working on that too."
Adran and Elara get one gladiator's gauze each. (35 gp)
-------------------------
Connor tried his special power at twilight. Making sure no one could see him, he called the most complex item he could think of to date: a spyglass. The item arrived in his hands, and Connor sighed in relief when it looked normal. He quickly opened the spyglass and looked to their destination with it.
And saw nothing but cloud. "Guess we'll have to depend upon Kyzin's navigation after all." Connor growled, letting the spyglass drop from his hands over the side, where it vanished a second later.
-------------------------
That night, Connor worked on a different project. Taking the all-metal lamp, Connor crafted a jewel setting in place of the wick. Holding the power stone he had made while Sammark was still on the team, Connor impressed crystal light into a semiprecious stone put into the new setting.
Hours later, Connor proudly held up the lamp, now glowing with its' never-ending light, and turned off the oil-consuming lamp in the corner of the bunk area. Then he collapsed into bed, and started snoring.
Changing MW metal hooded lamp (57 gp) into the equivalent of an everburning torch (110 gp).
(with MW tools)
Connor half hoped Rory would go hoarse from the yelling. This is not how I expected us to spend our days getting to Anrive. he muttered to Hero privately as the wind inexplicably changed, again, requiring every hand awake and on deck to change the sails.
That night, Connor took one of the costly gold rings he had "bought" in the warehouse. It was expensive not because it was a signet ring, but because the top rotated to show a tiny secret chamber. Usually to hold poison or other nefarious substances for kings and ambassadors. Connor instead wedged in a clear quartz crystal, and started to work. A few hours later, he had a ring similar to the McIntyre ring he still wore, with its' own internal light.
(with MW tools)
At lunch Connor handed Adran the newly crafted ring. "Here, Scout." he offered. "Since the women here are the only ones that can see in the dark." Showing the Halvavian the rotating top, Connor demonstrated the light function.
Adran gets one Signet Poison pill Ring, gold with Crystal Light (75 gp)