Reck's spellbook is sheets of parchment-thin scraped leather, painstakingly etched with a knife and inked with black walnut extract, and bound with cured sinew.
Sarenth's spellbook is a blue, leather-bound volume with a lock built into the cover so it can be sealed against prying eyes. The parchment inside is bleached to a fine white, and the early pages are covered in a neat, black-inked calligraphic script, with notes on various ways to try and manipulate reality to allow things to form or move between spaces.
After her meal Noro heads topside bringing her rum ration with her.
looks like its another challenger for the Iron Maiden. there are most likely an even split among the crew cheering for each drinker. if not Grok surely would have the edge.
Noro takes her seat placing her mug down.
Well Grock, Shtill got the chanshe to back down. Noro gives her an intimidating stare.
Grok just smirks at Noro. "Bring it on, little human," It seems friendly, though, despite the glare.
She brings out her own mug, a simple wooden affair that is notched and banged up, quite obviously well-loved and well used.
Noro looks to whoever will be refilling the mugs. ensureing they don't look shady.
Noro looks back at Grock she downs her first mug and slams the mug to the table.
D'you... Uhm... Do you all mind if I take a mace and try to trade for my little rapier?
Isabella makes her way to the captain's cabin, looks over the structure, again considering her course of action, then shrugs and knocks on the captain's door. Surely he's not already asleep...
Nobody answers! Seems the captain is not in tonight.
Sarenth totally ends up at the drinking contest.
Type ingested; Addiction minor, Fortitude DC 5 Price 2 sp Effect variable; +1d4 alchemical bonus to Charisma and
fatigued for 1d8 hours Damage 1d3 Con
Grok finishes her drink and slams the mug down with a hearty laugh.
Noro orders her mug filled must be the empty stomach, or something
Noro just glares at Grock a bit glassy eyed but not giving up.
she downs her second drink with an angry gulp
"I'd put my money on the human lass. Off to a bad start, maybe, but she'll be the one left standing at the end. You wait and see."
After an attempt or two, Isabella shakes her head. Bloody early sleeper, that one is. Wonder if he's even runnin' the ship at all...oh well. Maybe all the ruckus over yonder'll be more entertaining.
She then makes her way over to the drinking contest to behold her fellow femme fatales slogging back the grog.
Grok slams back another drink.
She doesn't even look phased, smirking at Noro.
Noro You really want Reck don't ya...
Noro slams a third drink
This one seems to hit Grok a bit (DCs at 21)
She smirks, "Well, I dunno what you were gonna do with him..." She laughs.
Her save is down to +2.
don't know yet she slurrs... her head spinning right round baby right round like a record baby...
Grok seems considerably more up and up, she just grins, "I dunno what you told him, but I was thinking errand boy." She laughs, "He seems the 'orc honor' type ... bit funny to prey on that, I admit."
Con's at 12, down to +1.
Grok sways a bit.
wash i supposed to tell him somthing?
Down to 9.
Grok doesn't even try talking now, barely swallowing that mouthful and sort of shuddering with the effort to keep it down. But she does.
Noro looks at Grok.
Hey...no fair you can't have all three of you play...
Noro still has the lead, barely. Grok still looks unsteady, and hiccups a bit, collapsing forward onto her arms for a long moment before she springs back up suddenly and shudders down another drink.
Grok falls face first into the table. Splat. She groans and reaches for her mug. There's some waiting with waited breath to see if she's going to get back up. It doesn't really look like it.
Noro stares at Grock for a bit she stands up arms raised as if to cheer then heaves all over Grock.
she just stands still for a few momments. then falls backward onto the deck. passed out as well.
Grok doesn't seem to have noticed. There's lots of cheering for the Iron Maiden - but that doesn't mean they don't just leave her there. And Grok too. Fun times.
Reck wakes from a very pleasant nap - savoring the thrill of new spells - to the sounds of cheering from topside. Curious, he wanders onto the deck to see what the hubbub is about. There, he finds Grok and Noro passed out in a puddle of rum and spew.
"By th' Storm and th' Surf, what 'appened 'ere?"
After being filled in, Reck grins. "Looks t'me like I'm th' real winner. Time t' claim my prize.". After checking both ladies for a pulse, Reck picks Noro up, slings her over his shoulder, and heads back to his bunk. He unceremoniously flops the barbarian into his hammock and sits cross legged on the deck, reading and re-reading his spellbook.
Got an image to maintain, but that doesn't mean I have to lower myself to sleeping with a female who can't give me a proper love tap.
Jack seems to appreciate the healing. He's quiet for a moment or two, and then just nods a little at Brillup, feeling the back of his head. "Umm ... thanks..." He mumbles
Jack nods a bit sheepishly. He seems embarassed more than anything, and shuffles away after thanking Brillup in mumbles again.
Isabella Watches, notably amused at the liquid battle, and less so at the climax. "Ugh. Someone get some rags for that poor orc 'afore she catches something awful from that pool of retch." She grimaces a bit as she walks up and tries to shake Grok out of unconsciousness. "Oy, lass. You don't want to be sleepin' there, I promise. Wake up, ye scallawag!"
Ehhh...the smell...must be somethin' on hand to clean this up...ah!
Isabella finds a handy bucket nearby, fills it, and pours it out to wash the slop away, and maybe wake up Grok too.
Sarenth will help in waking up Grok and, if needed, in helping to carry her passed out drunken body to her bunk/hammock. "Come on. Up you get. Time to get you to your bunk."
Grok mumbles. She's awake, actually. They might note that she didn't pass out at all. She is easy enough to pick up, well, so far as picking up a drunken half orc. "Znngnsngm." Might be a 'thank you'.
Noro just lays there. hopefully positioned so she will not disturb reck.
snoring away
Grok's asleep, yes.
Durvin is concerned over the game the two women chose to play. Maybe Ambrose isn't the only drunk aboard. Having a cheerful drink or two is one thing, but a drunk crew can become a detriment to the ship as a whole. As they help Grok leave, Durvin helps them take her to her bunk, as best he can. More along the lines of making sure they know where it is.
After any needed assistance with the unconscious Grok, Isabella dusts herself off, stretches a bit, and heads for her bunk. "Bloody amusing crew we're sailin' with; looking forward to seeing some real action with them. See you on the morrow, mates."
Spose I'll have to catch the cap'n earlier. Surely he doesn't sleep all day...
After delivering Grok to her bunk, Sarenth is going to slip the keys off her belt, then search her room. If he finds any chests or lockers, he'll open them if he has the keys and search them for useful things. When he's done, he'll reattach the keys to Grok's belt, then go to sleep.
Sarenth finds that Grok an Ambrose's room is pretty boring and cramped. The insensible cook is asleep on his bunk, and Grok doesn't even stir upon being dumped into her hammock.
There are some chickens in cages here, asleep as well with their heads under their wings. There's also a pair of lockers in the corner, and Sarenth has the key to one of them since he has Grok's keys.
Inside is a tiny little vial and nothing else. He's not sure what it is without an Appraise check!