Sense Motive
Bluff
"Well . . . I should . . . Aw, heck I'll stay in with three, here's my 5 to stay in it to win it."
Cendrik Sinks
”Ya all can kiss my dark quarter…”
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Mal'undil Sinks Mal pulls his dice. ”Might be this is a bit steep for this guy.”
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Valryssa eyes Karthan, her face an unreadable carving of stone. She eyes Kraken who rattles his dice cup. "For the first one out, the plank awaits you."
Kraken let's the dice fall to the table.
Fir draws forth the materials dealing the stone...
Stone of Zamnahd Ur
This clue details the finding of a rock by adventurers in Geb, the land of the undead. On the rock were etchings of strange symbols. The only word decipherable was “Zamnahd Ur”… Of the 8 person group, only one of the adventurers survived the experience. All of the adventurers were from Magnimar, survived the return trip from Geb, all but a man named Jorg were driven to madness and suicide. Jorg had been on the run, a homeless pauper surviving on the streets of Magnimar, the stone from Geb still in his possession.
No one knows what befell of Jorg or if he still lives...
Fir’umil thinks it has a link to an ancient evil named Xhamen-Dor. A creature thought to have been awakened during the cataclysm of Earthfall, little is known outside the insane cultists who worship him.
What little Fir was able to glean from Beleg’s and Caleb’s libraries lends Xhamen-Dor the power to create of undead. The is also a strong following in Geb of this particular creature. Comparing the symbology found on the crystal daggers and that found on this stone from Geb, there are some similarities.
There was an image Fir’umil found that purportedly gives form to Xhamen-Dor. When viewed, whether for the first time or for the 100th, it causes a disquieting feeling of dread and hopelessness...and sometimes nausea and fear in those who look upon it. For this reason, Fir’umil has it (the image) sealed away in a warded scroll case, not certain of the types of magics worked into the ink or vellum.
Driven by curiosity, Fir delved the drawing and came away with the surety that the ink used to put the image to the vellum is actually blood drawn from multiple sources. After this viewing, the elf has been reticent about pulling the drawing forward again.
Well s!&~, I forgot to ask what the hell they meant by the plank in this game. Did they mean figuratively or I actually have to take a swim if I lose. . . again something that would have been nice and useful to know BEFORE I started playing!
"Is that symbol the same one that Karthan saw and resisted? Also what is the link between this evil and Andrewfukyou or however you say it, if any?"
"On the crystal daggers? Yes, the one he resisted...and the one that impacted you negatively and gave you the visions you no doubt experienced after our encounter with the oracle and his ilk in Coppertown." Fir stretches his back and withdraws a slip of paper from his satchel. On it is a rubbing of the kukri where the symbol of the dark god Andirifkhu is etched. "And-eer-if-khoo." he sounds out for his cousin.
He shakes his head. "No, thankfully no connection for the two other than their Chaos origins. But it can't be denied, the similar uses of the crystal daggers and the kukri. Where the daggers appear to be siphons, leeching the essence of their targets to be transferred to a recipient...the kukri seems to have only one use, torture."
Karthan withdraws his cup, electing to withhold his results from the others - just as the others who "sank" had done - in the interest of preserving some mystery to his tactics. Mal'undil grins and nods approval for the deft move.
And so the evening goes, the rounds getting more contentious, but the general humor of the contestants remains at a gentle ribbing. The spectators come and go, but the players - and the minstrels - are the constant.
Game 1: Valryssa Wins
Croaker Wins
Karthan Wins
Cendrik Wins
Kraken Wins
Karthan Wins
x10 = 50 gold to Karthan! The elven ranger doubles his money (25 gold buy-in / 25 gold in profit)
As the gamblers wrap up their 6th round, the door to the small storeroom comes open, admitting a deckhand. He knuckles his brow, hat in hand. "Hate ta disturbs, ya, Cendrik, Cap'n's lookin' for ya." He gestures up top. "She do be spottin' a thing on tha horizon."
The Mwangi reaches a finger under his eyepatch, scratching at the missing orb, then stretches his back. "Shoulda gotten some rack time...it dawn yet?"
"A few hours yet for ole Fire-eye's peekin'...a few hours yet." the crewmember replies.
"Good." He stands and moves to the door to the storeroom, squeezing by in the confined space. "Games over, lady and gents. Time to get to work."
"Well it does appear that I had some luck in me afterall. we shall have to do this again, but I suppose I might be of service up on deck."
Karthan gathers the coins and tosses the pouch to Mal'undil. "Thanks partner! It looks like I wasn't a bad investment afterall, but we at least walk away with as much as we put in huh?!"
With that Karthan goes above to see what the Captain has seen on the horizon.
. . . . Hey . . . The captain can see in the dark as well as we can. huh.
"Perhaps they are trying to give Xhamen-Dor physical form then. Either for the sake of Xhamen-Dor himself or perhaps for the chaos he would reap for chaos sake."
"Lets review the etchings. Perhaps if we examine them closely we will find a clue, like the stars in the drawings we found."
Karthan climbed up the gangway and stood upon the deck. The salt air had its own freshness that carried with it emotion and past images like the crispness of mountain pine. The deck rose and fell with the swells of the ocean, timbers creaked and lines snapped in the breeze. The ranger could appreciate how the captain had fallen in love with the sea, it could be an addicting thing.
Come, hear the rime of the ancient mariner
See his eye as he stops one of three
See him mesmerize one of the tavern guests
Stay here and listen to the nightmares of the sea.
And the music plays on, as the wenches pass by
Caught by his spell and the mariner tells his tale.
Driven south to the land of the snow and ice
To a place where nobody's been
Through the snow fog flies on the albatross
Hailed in god's name, hoping good luck it brings.
And the ship sails on, back to the north
Through the fog and ice and the albatross follows on.
The mariner kills the bird of good omen
His shipmates cry out against what he's done
But when the fog clears, they justify him
And make themselves a part of his sin.
Sailing on and on and on and north across the sea
Sailing on and on and north 'til all is calm.
The albatross begins with it's vengeance
A terrible curse a thirst has begun
His shipmates blame their bad luck on the mariner
About his neck, the dead bird is hung.
And the curse goes on and on and on at sea
And the curse goes on and on for them and me.
'Day after day, day after day,
we stuck nor breath nor motion
As idle as a painted ship upon a painted ocean
Water, water everywhere and
all the boards did shrink
Water, water everywhere nor any drop to drink.'
There calls the mariner
There comes a ship over the line
But how can she sail with no wind in her sails and no tide.
See... onward she comes
Onward she nears out of the sun
See, she has no crew
She has no life, wait but here's two.
Death and she life in death,
They throw their dice for the crew
She wins the mariner and he belongs to her now.
Then... crew one by one
They drop down dead, two hundred men
She... she, life in death.
She lets him live, her chosen one.
'One after one by the star dogged moon,
Too quick for groan or sigh
Each turned his facce with a ghastly pang
And cursed me with his eye
Four times fifty living men
(And I heard nor sigh nor groan)
With heavy thump, a lifeless lump,
They dropped down one by one.'
The curse it lives on in their eyes
The mariner wished he'd die
Along with the sea creatures
But they lived on, so did he.
And by the light of the moon
He prays for their beauty not doom
With heart he blesses them
God's creatures all of them too.
Then the spell starts to break
The albatross falls from his neck
Sinks down like lead into the sea
Then down in falls comes the rain.
Hear the groans of the long dead seamen
See them stir as they start to rise
Bodies lifted up by good spirits
None of them speak and the lifelessness is in their eyes
And revenge is still sought, penance starts again
Cast into a trance and the nightmare carries on.
Now the curse is finally lifted
And the mariner sights his home
Spirits go from the long dead bodies
Form their own light and the mariner's left alone.
Then to towards the shore a boat came sailing towards him
It was such a joy he could not believe
The pilot's boat, The son and the hermit,
Penance of life would fall onto him.
And the ship sinks like lead into the sea
And the Son and the hermit shrieves the mariner of his sins.
The mariner's bound to tell of his story
To tell this tale wherever he goes
To teach god's word by his own example
That we must love all things that God made.
And the tavern guest's a sad and wiser man
And the tale goes on and on and on.
Cendrik leads the group the upper deck, casting about with his good eye he points to the aft castle. Onura stands upon the elevated area, Scribbles at the wheel as he jigs the ship southwest to fill her sails. The Windsinger Captain is peering through a looking glass, looking like a markswoman taking aim at the western horizon. Cendrik motions for the group to follow through the scattered crewmates going about their business. Along the way, Kraken peels off to get a few of the men moving faster about their business, his calm and nigh friendly demeanor all but gone as he lets loose a fusilade of profanities.
It leaves Cendrik to bring Karthan and Mal’undil to the castle. Somewhere on their journey from the lower deck storeroom, Valryssa had slipped away.
”Glad to see you were able to join us, Dawnsetter…” she greets the elf as the trio arrives. Onura lowers the scope and hands it to Cendrik. ”Tell me, what do you see…”
The firstmate peers through the scope, not long after he whistles. ”Not sure, Captain. Heavy guns, maybe?”
The clouds above allowed no moon nor stars, the night and the sea were swallowed in darkness. But off starboard, deep in the black and swirl of ocean, soft lights glowed orange and yellow in crescendos and denouement. The gods playing with lantern shrouds on the horizon.
”No reports…” Cendrik spoke thoughtfully.
Onura nods agreement. ”The ocean air would carry them to us at this distance.”
The firstmate went back to the wheel where mute, dwarf navigator stood. He unrolled one of the charts from the oiled leather scroll cases secured by the pilot’s lectern. After a brief moment with the map and then the compass, he frowned. ”Hmmm, our course, yes?” He asked of Scribbles, pointing towards the lights.
Scribbles just nodded.
It’s apparent that Onura wants her crew thinking. Instead of barking her observations as the obvious, she wants them to seek the answers for themselves. In fact, she looked to Karthan, her eyes hidden under the cloak of night and the brim of her hat...but the elven ranger knew she was looking at him. ”What do you see, Dawnsetter?”
Perception
"Perhaps a fire, or an arcane duel? We are sailing with the wind, the smell of fire and brimstone would be carried away from us. . . If it would please the captain I could barrow her glass and look from up high. I should be better able to identify the cause from the crows nest."
"By all means," Onura offers the spyglass to Karthan. She smiled at the archer and gestured to the rope ladder as it swayed in the wind and the rocking of the ship. "Don't fall overboard, Dawnsetter. I'd hate to lose you."
The rigging off the main mast stretches upwards, a central set of the rigging serving as a ladder to the crows nest 70 feet up off the deck.
Onura lets out a piercing whistle as Karthan descends the stairs from the aft castle. "Ahoy, squirts! Crewman to the nest!"
Kraken thundered away with the order, sending a set of 5 deckhands to man the rigging.
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The ship beneath Karthan's feet rocks and rolls, buoyed by ocean swells. The elf approaches the rigging and the rope ladder, safely stowing the spyglass in his satchel, then he prepares to climb.
Climb Check: DC 12
The elf settles himself in the nest, then casts a weather eye towards the western horizon and the distant light show...
Perception Check: Roll it and based on your results, peer into the appropriate spoiler below...
Climb
Percepion
Fortitude check
Karthan scurries up the rigging and climbs inside the pitching and rolling nest. He finds it hard to compensate and steady the magnified image provided through the glass. At least his stomach was none the worse for it. Having finished his vigil he made his way back down to the deck grateful he hadn't needed the rigging crews assistance. Being caught in a sail or flung overboard would have been embarrassing if not fatal. As a bonus he had not puked on himself.
Dropping down on the decking Kartham approached the Windsinger and offered her back the spyglass.
"Two shapes in the mists that I can only assume are ships. What hostile naval forces exist this close to Absolam? Do you think salvagers would do battle over over our prize? Or perhaps someone arrived on scene before us and found the ship not to be as empty and abandoned as previously reported? Or maybe the simple answer will be pirates."
"Anything is possible, little scallop." She closes the spyglass and slips it into a holster at her hip. "Mr. Cendrik, double the deck watch and have 2nd crew muster and load the cannons by dawn. Mr. Scribbles, steady as she goes."
She spun about and passed Karthan and Mal on the aft castle and headed to the deck. "Mr. Kraken, as soon as you see dawn's early light, I'd appreciate if you rustled up a boarding party for me."
"Dawnsetter, I'll give you and your little party the choice. If indeed we are to encounter a hostile ship in these waters, which ship would you prefer to lead your troop against?" She rested her hands on her hips, a cat's grin on her full lips. "I can spare a detail for you in case something...shippy comes up."
"I think you'll find me up to being in a boarding party. Should a choice arise between an unknown ship and our stated prize, then I think the Inquisitor would rightly demand we stick to our plan. However should that not be an option and it is a tall ship with dark sails, I shall respond as I have to, Captain."
Karthan responded with a grin back.
Onura grins back at the ranger. "Good. Now go see to your people, get some rest if you can. We should be upon them by dawn. Then we see what the sea has for us."
Varisian Etchings
Fir’umil pulls a vellum scroll from the bag of holding, the item rolled and bound in a horse hair tie that fastened with a tiny brass clasp. The wizard unrolls it to its full 12 x 3 ft dimensions. On it is the depiction of a rubbing, probably transferred from the thin material used by whomever had acquired the original. The first thing that draws the eyes is an ancient rune, Thassilonian in origin according to Fir’s research. Then there is the writing. Fir'umil indicates that his research led to older forms of Shaonti and Varisian to get a rough approximation of the language being used. The words arch from the rune on both sides, those appearing clearly, but only half the rune on the vellum.
”If I don’t miss my guess, this is a rubbing from an old temple, the tympanum to be precise.” With the vellum rolled out, it’s easy to see that the width of it could easily depict a mighty over the double doorways of a temple. He points to the word right below the half rune. ”Here, this is a name, Lixxahla I think it says. On either side, it repeats a phrase...something to the effect. ’As one we give, endless Lixxahla, as one we give...’”
He speculates it to be used on thralls to inspire unwavering loyalty and adoration as they enter the temple for worship.
The dawn finds the sun hidden behind clouds heavy with unspent rain, leaving the world a palette of varying grays and white ocean froth cleaving from the Lucky Slip’s bow. The party likewise awakens to a gray world as the thumping of the crews’ feet sounds through the wood of the ship. As the night’s sleep clears away like mist, the muffled orders being passed down from deckhand to deckhand sound like the calls of ghosts on other side of the Material Plane.
**Thump Thump** A fist pounds against the door, a mailed fist.
”Time to rise, my friends.” Sacerdos’ sure baritone calls from the other side of the door to Karthan and Mal’s shared quarters. ”The night’s travels have brought us to our quarry.” With that, the Inquisitor’s booted feet depart in the direction of the steps leading to the upper deck.
”Did I mention wanting to go with you today, kid?” Mal asks with obvious pain in his voice. His next words are muffled as he buries his face in his pillow. ”Cayden Calean take me but my skull feels like Gertrude stepped on it.”
Karthan is up quickly and gathers his gear and gets Mal’undil moving as well.
------
The adventurers gather on the upper deck, the cold morning air eager to greet them. A mist is upon the surface of the sea, but it still allows for at least a ¼ mile of visibility. Thankfully, even with the heavy storm looming in the west and the heavy cloud cover over them, there is no rain and the seas are relatively quiet.
Onura stands much as she did the night before, watching as the rolling waves brought them closer and closer to a new sight; a ship! The only difference is that her capuchin monkey rests upon her shoulders. The little creature is dark brown and wears a tiny woven vest.
”Mr. Croaker,” she calls to the man standing next to her. She hands him her spyglass. ”What say you shinny up to the next and have us a look-see?”
”Aye, Captain.” He replies and moves off, slipping up the rigging and the rope ladder with ease.
”Mr. Cendrik,” Onura shouts, the Mwangi man a few paces away descending from the aft castle. ”I want oars out, slow our approach! Spill some air from our sails too!”
Cendrik salutes and sets about passing the word. Immediately after, young crewman emerges from below decks and stands at attention before Onura. ”Captain, guns at the ready, aye!”
”Well done, lad. Get yourself at the ready, I don’t think we’ll be lighting the fuses...but one never knows.” She strides away from the crewman and rests her hands on the port rail, staring out at the ship adrift in the sea before her.
A dark hulk sits upon the rolling seas, a huge merchant galley crawls slowly towards the Lucky Slip. As she draws within a hundred yards, you can see she’s battered. Her hull is storm-scarred and appears to have other, unidentifiable damage too. The ship’s rigging sways aimlessly and no one appears to be manning her helm. She sits too low in the water and lists slightly starboard - a sure sign that she’s gulping the sea. Even the ship’s figurehead, expertly carved and painted in the likeness of a woman garbed funerary veils, eyes closed and hands resting gently on her chest, knows the end is near. Her beautiful rest seems somehow disturbed, as though she might open her eyes at any moment and wail a mournful dirge.
Onura sighs and looks back to about a dozen or so crew standing by and the party. “That’s the Lydia’s Wake alright. Figurehead is a give away. But by the gods she’s seen better days. Prepare the boarding planks and ready the hooks and netting.” The Windsinger pauses and looks over the side of the ship. ”Looks like we’ve got some hungry customers, so make sure the planks are hooked tight.”
”Captain!” Croaker’s voice sounds like a pound of gravel sliding down sheet metal roof.
”What is it?” Karthan can tell that Onura already knows. Her monkey busies itself with finding errant spots of dust in her plumed hat.
”Sails, other side of the drifter. Schooner by the look of her!”
The Windsinger’s eyes blaze with a kindled excitement. ”Mr. Cendrik, ready to unfurl!” She whips about from the rail and approaches the party. ”I’m going to get you across, then I’m going in pursuit of our little bilge rats who think they can salvage a ship out from under my keel.”
”Mr. Croaker, get me a bearing and get down here!” Then to the men stationed on the forecastle. ”Ready the port launch!”
Then Onura looks back to the party again, specifically at Zandra. ”Look, I’ll be honest with you. I had my reservations taking your cat on board, but now it’s a bit more dicey.” She points towards the listing hulk behind her. ”I can get you all on board, I’m fairly certain furry here can make the walk across the planks. But if the Wake starts really sinking, then you’ll have to get to the launch in a hurry.” She points downwards to her feet. ”That’s a 30 to 40 ft drop to the boat.”
Karthan walked down stairs, paused for a moment, then having made up his mind; walked directly to the Inquisitors doorstep.
<Knock> <Knock> <Knock>
"Sacredos I have news."
Karthan's knuckles had barely finished their last rap on the door when the holy templar opened the door and thrust his bearded head out. The mans intensity never seemed to rest. His eyes seemed to draw forth Karthan's words like a sponge does water.
How does he do that?! It's like he is waiting there like a trapdoor spider for anything to just touch upon his portal for him to spring out in a flash.
"Uh, well I came to tell you it looks like there might be some battle ahead, two shapes, possibly ship, in the area the Wake was last seen. We can't hear reports of cannons so it must be magic."
"The Captian asked me to lead a boarding party. She asked me which ship we would board together as a group . . . Heh, I am guessing I told her correctly that you wouldn't hear of boarding anything, but the Wake if given a choice right?" Karthan grinned .
"You speak correctly." Sacerdos studies the elf for a few moments and draws several conclusions. "Dismiss your distractions, Dawnsetter. None of what happens over the next few hours should involve impressing the captain." He offers a slight grin, but it never touches the hard edges of his eyes. "I'm wedded to my duty, ranger, but I am not blind. Dismiss your distractions, and if you are to lead, then lead."
He turns away and grasps the door. "Alert me when we are ready to board. I will be praying to the Great Lord for our success." And with that he closes the door.
"Yeah I---"
<Click!>
Well I guess that converstation is over. Huh, I guess I never thought about actually leading the boarding party as much as I thought of it as going across with the others. . . I guess I should think of that. If the Captain gives me a full detail I had better impress her, but I don't want to get those crewmen killed either.
Heh, that half elf is cracked, he is probably in there polishing his sword pommel over and over. Screw that! It rather be manning the helm of the Captains aft end at full tack and rudder in choppy waters . . . hope she doesn't prove to be too much ship for me to handle though. . . why am I talking in ship slang already? Maybe I do need to do a head check all I can think about is how she slinks around the deck. I bet the crew all have knuckle marks in the planking above their racks and hammocks!
I'd better go tell Zandra next . . . nah, I still feel too dirty. I'll hit up Fir'umil first.
<Knock><Knock><Knock>
"Cousin, I hope I am not interupting you to badly, but it looks like we will arrive at our destination in about four hours and it looks like there is some kind of magical combat or lights in the mists covering that area."
The wizard steps back from the door and nods to the bed. "If that is the case, then you will need to claim your sister. We have been delving into the clues we'd uncovered on the crystal daggers." He points to the bag of holding on his bed and speaks to Zandra. "If you would be so kind as to replace the materials in the bag. I noticed a finely crafted strong box in this room earlier. We can keep the bag in there, I will take great cautions in locking it from prying eyes."
Fir'umil looks back to Karthan. "Four hours you say? That should be enough for me to finish my preparations." He stands back and opens the door a bit further and waits for Zandra to leave.
"I shall leave the items here, but I need the bag and the rest of its contents. I purchased some items from the temple that we may need going forward. I too have preparations to make."
"Great, one more thing though, the captain is going to give me the detail to lead over to the Wake if it still floats. Sacredos will be coming with us. Fir'umil will you be boarding with us or will you stay aboard to give magical support?"
"Oh I'll be coming along. I wouldn't miss it."
"That is comforting to hear. You can bet that this simple salvage mission will turn into something more complicated, but together we shall succeed I am sure of it."
Then Onura looks back to the party again, specifically at Zandra. ”Look, I’ll be honest with you. I had my reservations taking your cat on board, but now it’s a bit more dicey.” She points towards the listing hulk behind her. ”I can get you all on board, I’m fairly certain furry here can make the walk across the planks. But if the Wake starts really sinking, then you’ll have to get to the launch in a hurry.” She points downwards to her feet.”That’s a 30 to 40 ft drop to the boat.”
Zandra smiled at the captain and gave her a little wink.
"I thought of something for that Captian as long as I am alive I have a spell up my sleeve for that eventuallity. Should I fall though, Tigers are the one great cat at home in the water. My brother should be able to handle him should that happen."
Zandra gestures to the schooner slipping into position.
"Good luck Captain, it looks like you have a challenger on your hands. I don't know much about ships or combat between ocean vessels, but I think I would be placing my money on you and your ship. Any idea who they might be?"
"Hmm..." Onura steps closer to Zandra, a rare look of concern in her eyes. "Best you don't fall, Dawnsetter. When I said 'customers' earlier, I meant sharks. I don't care how good a swimmer you think he is, nothing out does a shark."
A hand goes absently to Jack, the monkey on her shoulder.
"As for who sails the schooner, your guess is as good as mine. Scavengers of exceptional connection or luck would be my estimate."
"I will keep myself as safe as I can in this scenario Windsinger and I pray that you do the same. If there is no ship left to pick us up my preparations won't make much of a difference and I doubt I would receive gentle treatment if I were to be picked up by the opposing crew."
Zandra turned serenely to look at her brother and the others finishing preparations to board while one of her tiny hands absentmindedly found Thor's head for a stroke before turning her eyes back to the Captain's.
"I think I should thank you. Giving my brother lead of the boarding detail will bring him focus and a lesson in maturity, responsibility. Being the woman that you are, I am sure your intuition and sense has allowed you to read Karthan. You have been a good influence. My mother was a warrior. . . Mal'undil is more like an older wiser brother, Tgere have been others that have had an impact on him. Some of those in ways I would not count as positive. You though, have been the first motivator that has been successful in putting some fire and drive in his belly."
Onura looks to the elven ranger as he sets to his duties. "He has promise, I'll grant you that. But he'll need to get his temper in order. Every time I look at him I see a main mast ready to snap because the crew refuses to spill wind from the sail." Eyes back to Zandra, she gives a chuckle. "Although, it's just those qualities that could make him a good shipmaster in time. Who knows what the winds have in store for him...or you."
That being said, she motions for Zandra to follow her to the aft castle and the small table there bolted to the deck. On it, held down by brass clamps is a map of the area. She pointed to a section off the coast of Absalom. Then she draws her finger to a small chain of three islands twice the distance from their ship towards the west. "Currents are shifting. So if something happens and you're forced to the launch before we return, make your heading there. I'll know to steer towards that approach to retrieve you." She then unclamps the map and rolls it up, fitting into an oiled-leather scroll case. Before sealing it, she points to the inside of the scroll case cap. A brass-fitted compass gleams as the gray light of the day reflects off the glass face. "Keep the map and the case safe. Get to those islands, the southern most. You'll be safe there and in the shipping lanes so you can call for assistance."
Zandra looked at her brother reflectively.
"An apt metaphor to describe my brother. Others have compared him to a wolverine or badger. He is rampant and struggling against the winds of fate that seek to blow him one direction or the other, but never on a course of his choosing. I hope that he finds a way to bend with or weather them or better yet learn to harness or ride them to a destiny that suits who he is and would like to be. I fear though that the circumstances of his birth may predetermine or at least shape the outcome regardless of his will."
"in the few days we have been in the city Karthan was invited to join the ranks of the Red Mantis Asassins. He supped, consulted with, was invited to hunt with, and shortly thereafter killed The Rook and helped see to the downfall of his criminal organization. He fought with and eliminated several cells of Chaos Spawned foes, rebuffed plans made for him over a century ago by our parents, walked the halls of the Arcanium, and sought to meet with the representatives of the Elven Court to question them. . . Through all that he has carried himself as you have seen."
"His enemies are abundant, his potential allies have their own dangers and friends who have his own best personal interests in mind are few. He would like nothing more than to be his own master and commander and to live free as you do. Your fire and swagger appeal to him. It would be easy to encourage him to be his own man and seek his own prospects, but there are things in motion and forces at work that will make that impossible at least for the foreseeable future . . . Perhaps a Grey's lifetime."
Zandra turned back to look Onura in the eye, having to look up to do so.
"Your concern reaches your eyes. Thank you. . . And I am glad fate led you to take us from the city. I feared for him there, but I recognize the sea is no safe place either."
Zandra took the scroll and closed it in her magic bag.
"It will be quite safe in here, not even air can get it when I make it closed."
Zandra looked back to the Windsinger.
"I hope your just in case instructions are just that and not foreshadowing. I heard them well. May you and your crew find smooth seas and fight like the kraken. God's willing we will be returned to you. I would welcome finding greater understanding between us."
"Mal I hope you remembered to bring your swim trunks. It looks like this is quickly becoming an underwater salvage mission if we don't move soon."
"I am sure you are wondering the same thing I am. Was that hole made by someone on the outside or something on the inside."
"Almost makes me want to take up smoking with you. heh heh."
Karthan edges an eyebrow to descreetly draw the reformed rogues attention towards the voluptuous captian speaking with the tiny druid.
"Well it looks like Zandra and the Captian are chatting it up about something. Must be talking about spell components or something, Onura indicated earlier that she wasn't overly fond of my little sister. Maybe it was just initial cattiness and now their going to be BFF's or something. Heh, females have more twists and turns than pasta noodles from Tromboli."
Mal'undil returns the ranger's grin. "'There is no understanding the hearts of the fairer among us.' Something Caleb told me after my difficulties with Emilura. I think it fits." Mal eyes Karthan for a moment, wondering at the last few comments. Was the kid's getting nervous?
Over to the side, Croaker is readying a group of 5 crewmen. The scarred sailor is quiet for the most part, his presence seemingly enough to keep the men, all human from the looks of them, in line. Each are armed with bracing pins (clubs), some have daggers, shortened sabers and one even has a net weighted down with lead shot on the corners. Mal'undil nods with approval.
As they ready themselves, an interesting aspect is each has a shoulder satchel into which they throw their items. Mal thought on it for a second then realized what must be happening. He leans over to Karthan and says, "They're keeping their heavy gear in a separate satchel, in case they have to go for a swim." He gestures to the single dagger each man has in a sheathe at their chest. "They can quickdraw their daggers and slice off the satchel so it won't drag 'em down."
Reluctant to do the same, Mal can't deny it's a good idea. The half-elf begins doing the same.
Croaker rubs absently at the necklace of shrunken monkey heads at his chest, eyes sharp and observant as his men readied the boarding planks. One or two of the men are moving slower than he'd prefer, so he steps forward, bracing pin in his hand. It's enough, they step to in good order.
A gust of wind lifts his greasy hairs from his shoulders, reminding him he'd better check in with the Cap'n's new pet...he mutters unintelligibly to one of the monkey heads about propriety but chokes down his anger. Cap'n knew what she was doin'. No doubts there, so best to stow his irritation.
"Men are ready...sir," His voice barely above a whisper after he'd expended most of it on getting the 5 crewmen in line. "We'll be alongside soon, so best be ready." He inclines his head a fraction of an inch, knuckling his brow and going back to the men.
The boarding planks are long, 30 foot affairs of iron-banded white oak, adjustable hooks on each end for bracing and fixing into place. The hooks had room to float in their mountings as the two ships went about their business.
"All they say for diamonds, in my life, preparation is a girl's best friend." Onura looks over Zandra's shoulder, considering Karthan and matching up his sister's words. "I also find that letting a man fall on his face more often than not is a better course for my rudder than constantly cutting into his wind."
She smiles down at Zandra knowingly. "But you're already learning that, aren't you?" Onura rests her hands on her hips and laughs, a musical thing that carries only a hint of her abilities. Zandra is reminded of Caleb for some reason. "It's a dangerous prospect, allowing a ship to ride the winds and only working the wheel...allowing the currents of water and air to be the guide...especially when love is involved. But if a boat's hull and sails are true, they can handle just about anything."
A few hand gestures in the air, mimicked by Jack the monkey and Onura rests a hand on Zandra's shoulder. "Luck and Boldness, Zandra Dawnsetter, if the Great Drinker is kind this day, we'll be on our way back to Absalom in a few hours."
Acrobatics (1st)
Reflex
Acrobatics (2nd)
Strength
Acrobatics (3rd)
"They're keeping their heavy gear in a separate satchel, in case they have to go for a swim." He gestures to the single dagger each man has in a sheathe at their chest. "They can quickdraw their daggers and slice off the satchel so it won't drag 'em down."
"Yeah I noticed that, I put my heavy unwieldy things in Zandras bag. I figure my bow and arrows will float and I kept to my light blades. Ditched the cloaks and my leather armor is pretty light. We should do fine, but I am keeping a blade tucked I my waistband none the less."
"Mr. Croaker, are you all to be my detail that is going aboard?"
Croaker looks back from his observation of the crewmen and simply nods.
Over his shoulder, the Lydia's Wake looms larger as the Lucky Slip makes her approach. The sinking galleon is maybe 100 yards off now.
"Very well then. When we get aboard your first order of business is to take the men and secure a ships launch in the event that we have to either abandon quickly or we find our goals and need to depart before our ship returns."
"If one of you men can get a boarding pike and a boarding axe over there with us that would be grand. I know the Galleon should be well stocked, but assumption is the mother of all f#$* ups I'd rather we have our own with us. We don't know what to expect so if anyone sees something out of the ordinary I expect you to speak up, it won't be seen as disrespect."
"Lastly we don't know why the crew is missing. Before anyone starts looking for loot and gathers up anything not bolted down we need to make sure the ship is secure got it? After we have gotten our objective completed and our exit is secured, then I will allow for salvage under Captains standard rules. I advise you to keep in mind that many of the items on board the ship belong to the Inquisitors Church and he is not known for his forgiveness if he believes someone is misappropriating church property. If you see a tool or weapon we need along the way then ask if Mal and I are present, otherwise use your best judgement. I want all of us to return back aboard ship as we left it if possible."
Croaker inclines his head in agreement and starts signaling the crewmen to get to their business. On the port side of the ship they're already lowering the launch. Inside the boat is a pair of additional crewmen who will see to it that they are near the Lydia's Wake in case of emergency.
A pair of sailors peels from the crew ranks and gathers up boarding axes for the five, one getting a boarding pike, a short fellow by the name of Greely.
As the ship closes the distance to 25 yards, the scarred sailor claps, "Ready boarding!" he manages in his gravely voice.
At 20 yards he signals for them to lower the planks and brace them to the other ship. With the galleon sitting so low in the water, the planks are nearly level from their spots on the Lucky Slip's deck.
Below the planks, a mass of hammerhead sharks swirl and patrol. "They got the scent, yes indeedy..." Croaker whispers to one of his shrunken monkey heads.
When he notices one of the crewman staring too, he slaps him across the back of the neck and kicks him in the tail. "Only way you're gonna see 'em up close is if ya don't get movin'! I'll throw ya down there myself!"
Once the launch is in the water, the first crewmen and Croaker begin making their way across the planks...
Crew 1 ...failed
...made it to launch
Crew 2
Crew 3 ...failed
...failed
...shark kills crewman
Crew 4
Crew 5
Croaker
Each of the crew are careful as mice, but two of the 6 crossing lose their footing and spill into the ocean below. One, a powerful swimmer, makes it to the launch and rescue. The second lad isn't so luckly. A hammerhead closes the distance faster than he can swim and drags him screaming below the surface. Only a cloud of blood remains of him.
Croaker curses and finishes his trek across the planks, joining the remaining three men. Over to the Stern Castle, he locks eyes with the Captain. Her face is a cast of stone, but she signals for him to continue. Croaker in turn signals to Karthan and the party that they are next.
"Yes, trying to control and steer my brother is a losing proposition. I have learned not to complain about the wind or just pray and expect it to change; I simply adjust the sail a bit where ever I can to help navigate."
Zanda accepts the older woman's touch and returns it with her own.
"Remember even the mighty seas rest upon the breast of Mother Earth. Be well and may we soon be underway together."
Fir’umil
...failed
Sacerdos
...success
...balance
...maintain grip
...maintain grip
Mal leads off, making it across the plank with ease. But Fir, balancing as best he can finds the last third of the trip far too difficult and loses his footing. He throws out a hand and Sacerdos manages to grasp and hold it. Between the two of them, they make it to the other side.
"Wow, well I guess---
"I'll go first brother."
Zandra moved out into the boards confident at first.
Acrobatics
Reflex
Acrobatics
Climb
Acrobatics
Thor follows quickly after . .
acro
reflex
Afro
climb
acro
Followed by Karthan. "Hey wait! Ah Cripes!"
acrobatics
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acrobatics
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acrobatics
The party makes it across the planks, Karthan bringing up the rear in a sprint, making the plank look like it's dry land. Croaker sets the remaining three crewmen about searching the main deck, sparing a glance Karthan’s way to nod approval.
From where they had come, the Lucky Slip pulls in oars and unfurls all sails, the wind billowing the canvas and giving speed. As she passes by, Onura gives a jaunty salute and turns to ordering her crew.
Along the main deck where the boarding party stands, there is scattered material that appears right at home a ship; buckets and mops, coiled stacks of rigging rope, bracing pins. Above the deck, the main mast creaks, the wood ready to give way to the spider webs of cracks and stresses. Her sails are in tatters, the heavy canvas rolling in the wind. One thing is for certain, without drastic repairs to her mast and plugging the leak somewhere in the hull, the Lydia's Wake will never sail again.
Croaker signals to the men to ready their searches but looks back to Karthan, pointing first to the stern castle then the fore castle, which would he prefer to search first?