"Iffin ye like Kauly... but first go fetch Janore and send her up ere"
When Janore is fetched, Dibbets will ask if there is any sign given to show that it is safe for a ship to approach.
Dingus watches the approaching ship from a gap in the wall. Both he and Richard have been laying in the sun, letting their bodies tan, and heal in the sunlight. He then picks up the new robe he has been sewing with any mixture of sturdy cloth found around the fort, not really caring about the appearance, resulting in a coat of many colors. He stretches and continues to watch the approach.
Richard turns over on his back to let the sun warm his rat fattened belly.
Kaul stops by the old prior's room on his way downstairs for a lurking spot. No one responds to his knock however, and he finds the door barricaded when he tries it.
Not messing about with Half Hitch's hammock warmer anymore Kaul bellows at her to open the door, then not waiting for a response brings his new axe to bear on the timber;
:
:
Kaul smashes through the door in just one blow with his newly procured ax. After pushing aside some furniture to enter the room, he finds a sorry sight. Janore appears to have offed herself and is dangling at the end of a rope suspended from a ceiling beam.
Kaul will give her a tap for signs o' life and all that...
If nothing doing he'll leave her swinging and inform the rest o' the crew of the bints fate (emphasis he had nothing to do with it...)
"Half Pint can cut her down... iffen he can reach hur-hur-hur..."
Spitting to the side as he shakes his head "Sad feckin state of affairs." before turning to thoughts of the moment "Check 'er pockets fer anythin useful, nae point wastin it." and he starts stumping out towards the pier "Who's comin fer sayin howdy?" though his usual somewhat twistedly jovial self is diminished.
"Here, I can't say as I'm surprised...she'd lost everything she had." Besides, a jest about selling her to Chelish slavers might not have been the best thing for someone in her state.... Jim follows the halfling. "I'll come with, mate. Somehow the island here just turned to someplace I'd be happier seeing in my wake."
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Dingus carefully looks at the hanging corpse. He then tentatively reaches out and rubs the fabric of her clothing to determine if it is any higher quality than his new makeshift robes.
Kaul wanders over to Half Hitch, palms up in the peace sign... The thug actually looks remorseful and waves the halfling close;
"Hurrr... Emmm... Errr.. I found 'er mate... jes hangin' there like... She'd written a note fer ye..."
:
(beckons Half Hitch over tae whisper)
Kaul leers as Half Pint springs the trap, attempting to clamp his paws on the pest's throat;
:
"HUR! She wanted ye tae join her! Hur-hur!
Kaul will lift and throttle his pint sized protagonist...
The now ashy skinned corpse of the half-elf woman sways slightly at Dingus' touch setting the rope creaking eerily. The simple white robes do feel durable, but cut totally wrong for the skinny sorcerer.
Keelhaul Kaul-
The peril sensitive halfling catches a treacherous gleam in the burly thug's eyes, but is frozen with fear as the half-orc pounces, grabbing Finn's pet in a sausage fingered grip. The slippery little rogue isn't cooked yet though as he wriggles out of Kaul's hammy fists and tumbles for the door.
Leering at Half Pint, the scarred thug aims a knee at the short-asses head;
:
;
Dibbs starts whistling tunelessly and keeps walking toward the pier.
Madman Jim-
The Groom-
Dingus-
The nimble halfling easily dodges Kaul's clumsy kick and rolls just outside the door where he scrambles to his feet.
Round 1:
"Kaul, it may be a mite late to stop now, but I'd rather not have to watch out for Finn while we're looking for Dallian. You know, the rat bastard who left us on a sinking ship? And I'd really rather not end up like Slick, hey?"
the Groom passes his chance. "A boat be coming. Best we be not covered in blood when they think about taking us on."
He will then make his way out to the pier.
Heeding his companions words Kaul ceases his attempted assault on the sneaky slip....
Glaring at the evasive Half-Hitch, the thug visably calms
"Aye... it were Dallywag that killed my girl... set the cogs in motion..."
He mutters a curse towards Half-Inch;
"Alright... Here's my terms slip... I let you keep breathin' and YOU keep quiet tae Finn... otherwise yer a sac-feefice tae Tum... SAVVY??"
:
Half-Hitch skitters back from Kaul, not about to be lured in again by the hobbit-cidal thug. At the mention of sacrifice, 'Hitch's skin takes a wooden texture and his joints stiffen making him much less nimble. He shrieks and descends the ladder as quickly as possible to run out of the fort. From within Kaul's sack, the mumbling coconut god is heard, "Hee-hee. Me curse got 'im!"
Meanwhile, the Groom and Dibbets have made their way out onto the dock to await the incoming ship. It is a clear sunny day with a stiff wind from the northwest that stirs up the chop as the ship draws nearer tacking from the northeast.
Jim chuckles at Half-Hitch's discomfiture, then claps Kaul on the shoulder. "Come on, mate. Let's see what the wind's blowing our way."
From the dock you can see the name of the approaching vessel is The Plumed Lady and she flies a Shackles ensign. As she draws near the dock, a Bonuwat man calls down for help tying off. The chop makes it a little dicey, but the ship is secured with help from the crew.
Once all is settled, the Bonuwat man reappears next to a striking woman. She is past her middle years with short spiked hair the color of steel above a sweat stained red silk head band. Gold loop earrings dangle from each ear and although her bronze skin is weathered from the sea and sun, she is still handsome.
She leans over the railing to eyeball you and calls out, "You don't look like monks. Where's the monks?!"
Putting his best smile on Dibbs ventures "They're dead... but we didn't kill em... honest... we woulda killed the ones that did... but they were already dead... but since they was still walkin despite bein dead we had tae re-deader them... then we burnded the re-dead dead ones that killded the monks dead so they wouldn't re-re-undeader agin... I'm Dibbets, you?"
Kaul, bow legged and belligerent ambles over to Dibbs with Jimmer;
He mutters a cheeky aside to the swordsman as they approach:
"Hur... Best lookin Lady I seen for a long time...hur... meanin' the ship o' course, although I'm sure ye could drop anchor in that one Jimmer... hur-hur-hur..."
the Groom gives Dibbets a slight kick to encourage him to wrap things up. "What my friend is saying is that they have been claimed by the sea and the accursed dead that rose from it. We have lifted said curse, through a long night of steel and fire. And we now find ourselves in possession of one slightly used monastery cum fort. Welcome to our small corner of the Shackles." He touches his hand to the brim of his hat, "I am simply called the Groom"
Dibbets bears the kick without complaint and puts on his best smile for the visitors.
Dingus his trust of anyone but his mates stays hidden, and watches things develop. He doesn't intend to come out until he is sure things are safe...or he's about to be left behind on this island.
The woman turns to the mate beside her and whispers something.
"I'm Captain Miro. This is Rekello, my first mate. That's hard news about the Brotherhood. You OK, with us coming ashore? We've had some bad luck lately and could use a little time off the ship."
the Groom offers an ironic smile, "Bad Luck has found a home here. You are welcome to share it with us. We can see whose tale of woe is longer."
Jim nods politely to the visiting officers.
ETA: "Ma'am, I realize the circumstances are unusual. We were, ourselves, wrecked several days' sail from here but a fortnight past. We managed by dint of skill (and more luck than anyone deserves in a lifetime) to make our way to the island by raft, expecting as you did to find a place to rest. Instead we found all but three of the monks dead or vanished, and two of those dying. The third was...also hurt, worse than we knew. When the dead rose again from the sea, even though we sent them back the last monk didn't survive. We'll do what we can for you and your crew, Captain, though we're nowhere near so many as were here before, and in return we'd be grateful if you could carry us to some other port."
Perception:
Sense Motive:
Dibbets keeps his trap shut fer now, apart from stumping to the side a little to clear up some room on the pier.
Standing back, cluthing his treasured new ax in one paw and Tum Bo-Bo in the other Kaul watches the newcomers with a mixture akin to curiousity and a hungry gleam in his beady eyes;
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:
He idles up to Dibbs and pops a whisper in his cauliflower ear;
"Their Cap'n said sumit about Death followin' em Dibbs... They sound our kind o' folk hur-hur-hur-hur..."
Dibbs gives Kaul a slight nod and narrows his eyes a bit at the arrivals... but overall his demeanor doesn't change. They have a ship.
Captain Miro gives Jim a brief smile. "So happens we're down a couple crew. You'd be welcome aboard if you're ready to work. We're bound for The Smoker. Did the monks leave any spirits behind? It's my birthday tomorrow and I could use a drink."
Smiling wide at the mention of a love of liquor "It's me birthday everyday when I ken be in high spirits. The place is skint, but there's some sorta brewery iffin ye want tae check it." waving Miro onward "An the Smoker'd be fine enough if ye'd take tha help."
Appraise w/ Detect Magic
Spellcraft
Captain Miro orders a gang plank set up and disembarks with her chief mate. They head into the former fortress/monastery as the rest of the Plumed Lady's crew gather their things off the deck.
Dingus finds that the wand is a half-charged wand of plant growth. Probably necessary for living on a rocky barren island. Dingus can't use it, but figures it might be worth some money.
That'll get us closer to home port, at least.
Kaul taps his scarred noggin, while Tum looks on impassively;
:
:
His mind then wanders at the thought of their new wand creating giant stogies...
The crew of the Plumed Lady quickly make themselves at home by helping themselves to the larder with gusto and setting up their bedding in the old mess. Captain Miro inspects the brewery under Dibbets' supervision and reports that unfortunately the brew isn't ready.
That puts a damper on the evening and the visiting sailors dourly depart for the mess after attempting to put the doors aright and the officers retire to the chapel of Besmara. The night passes without incident although all you remember of any possible dreams is the creak of taught rope upon a wooden beam and a faint sobbing noise.
You awake the next morning to the calls of the sailors from the dock. Any who look soon notice the cause of their alarm as a bank of fog is moving in from the east despite the fact that the wind continues to blow from the northwest.
"Dibbets! Get your weather eyes down here, mate. Something's coming our way." Once at the dock, Jim casts a jaundiced look at the oncoming fog bank, then looks to the sailors. "Here, Captain Miro said something last night about a run of bad luck. What might she have been speaking of?"
Dibbets hustles down to the Plumed Lady and sashays himself skyward through it's rigging into the crow's nest to take a good look...
Perception: take 10 for 23
... and tasting the air to confirm the suspicions that the roiling fog bodes ill.
Dibbets sees an unnatural fog rolling in from the distant Glengarnie Chain and in its midst a dark object that could be a small boat.
A sailor looks Jim over wearily, "I dunno what her bidness is 'xacly, but there's something nasty in the hold." He spits into the water as he gives a dark eye to the Plumed Lady.
Calling out from aloft and he begins his climb back to deck.
Jim taps his forehead in a quick salute. "Your pardon, mates. I've got to get ready." If he isn't already wearing it, Jim dons his armor and gets his weapons to hand before returning to the dock. As he heads into the monastery, he shouts, "'Ware, all! Boat's incoming!"
Kaul grins and looks at Tum;
Hur-hur. Bad Ju-ju I'm a' bettin' Tum... Best stow you below decks while me and me new axe introduce ourselves like..."
The thug pops Tum into his sling bag, keeping it open momentarily so the nut idol can chat freely and hefts his brutal magic axe whilst making subtle-like towards the oncoming fog...
:
the Groom stows his book and any others of interest into bag, buckles his sword to his hip and slings the crossbow on his back.
He makes his way to the wharf to see the incoming boat. "Can this ship get way fast enough to avoid that, or do we wait out the storm ashore?"