After a slow start, and seeing how the large feline is basically running up the ropes, she will get a move on, and start climbing for earnest.
"Gid, you okay?"
She pauses while hanging in the ropes, looking down to see if he is okay.
Wow, it's higher than I thought.
Right before reaching the top, she will hook her arm into the ropes she's been climbing and look out over the seas. She will make sure that Mr Plug sees her enjoying the view, and will "continue" climbing when she is no longer in the top three.
I am not a trained g#+~$+ned monkey. Who does that guy think he is?
Skaldi reaches down to offer a hand up to whoever the third rigger is. He'll continue helping nayone still making the climb.
While waiting for the third rigger he'll say to Satinder, He can't kill you, but he can sure as hell make you miserable. Be careful.
"You have a point, freckles. I should bide my time... Can't take 'm in a straight-up fight, I reckon..."
She looks at him with gratitude.
Karl warned me I'm too stubborn for my own good...
DC 15 Acro ignores the first 10 feet fallen, which means you are still going to take damage. Seeing as you were at 45ft high, you take 3D6 <> 4d6 falling damage, the first die roll of this is non-lethal.
I can't do it for you, but maybe you'll want to roll it yourself? :)
*crosses fingers*
Also:: The DM is being really nice to us, since "falling" isn't the same as "unsuccesfully jumping down".
=> Link for curious Georges
After climbing into the nest he makes his way down the rigging. As he nears the deck looks concerned over toward any who fell.
At the top (in order of arrival): Terz (now gone), Skaldi, the gnome, and Satinder.
The gnome removes his hat and bows elegantly at the two of you.
Well helloooo. Seeing as we have yet to interact and old Pluggiwugg is finally out of earshot AND you all must simply be dying to know such a fine fellow as myself, I'll introduce myself.
He turns to Satinder.
Conchobar Turlach Shortstone, as I am sure you are no doubt pleased to meet.
Ambrose can't keep the sneer off his face any longer as Mr. Plugg begins ordering everybody around. He takes a few deep breaths, and his eyes stop spewing smoke. As the others hop to and scramble up the rigging, Ambrose doesn't budge. Instead, he watches their progress from the deck of the ship, using his hand to shield his eyes from the sun.
As they begin to reach the top, he casually remarks to Plugg, "Some fine looking riggers we have, wouldn't you say?"
Maeleg manages to use the rigging to soften his fall and curses when he reaches the deck.
Climbing.. why did it have to be climbing ?
Plugg moves his face closer, letting his stinking breath wash over Ambrose,
"Some fine lookin' welts you'll 'ave by the time I'm done wiv yeh, devil boy."
He casually flicks his cat-o'-nine-tales by his side.
"Right! Get down from the riggin's yeh sons a' whores, fore I'm forced t'use the cannons.
The kitty, the ugly redhead, and foppish midget are the new riggers! You'll report directly t'me after testin's done!"
"Second test!
Who 'ere ken cook?"
"That would be me, signori Plugg."
Truly a pleasure Mr. Shortstone. You've the honor of working with Skaldi the Tallest. I think you gents will put me to shame up here.
Before anyone starts their decent, Skaldi quickly pipes up. I know none of us are happy about this situation, but getting yourself killed, or worse, is only going to make everything harder. For all of us. We need to work together and survive the next couple of weeks. Patience is a virtue and all that. His tone isn't scolding or demeaning. He is honestly saying that he wants everyone to get out of this alive. Bide your time. Make friends. We'll pull through this.
He'll wait for anyone to contribute to the thought before climbing down. Taking his time about it.
When he hears Plugg call out for a cook. You should all be happy I'm already a rigger. My cooking will put hair on even her chest. He points at the redhead that took her time about climbing. The joke is good natured and meant for the newcomers, not the entire ship.
Ambrose tries not to inhale too deeply as Plugg's foul breath assaults him. He does his best to look threatened, and even manages a slight cringe without being overtly mocking.
At the mention of the next test, he smirks with wry humor. "I cook about as well as I climb."
Lux sets easily on the deck his tail flits to the side the only real emotion he is showing, smugly pleased. When Plugg taps the cat o'9 tails the tail darts to the side and he clearly shivers. He recovers and puts both hands up, "Whoa I don't cook." His speech is a thick chelish dialect but deeper in the throat indicative to anyone from the Shackles as Sargavan.
Satinder will measure up Skaldi by standing next to him when she next gets the chance.
If they don't call him the tallest because of his height...
Skaldi, you are smarter than you look" she says jokingly. "If you keep this up, we'll have to call you Skaldi the Wise."
She will wait a little longer than everyone else before going down the ropes. You can tell she likes being up here.
While climbing down, she continues the conversation.
"Man, I wish that a#$@~!@ would be a little more clear. The *ugly* redhead? I mean, he can't be talking about me, obviously, but it seems a bit unfair for you too.
Something tells me he is not the most intelligent of the bunch."
Upon reaching the deck...
"Signori Plugg, I believe I will be able to assist you in your endeavour of the next mission. I have some experience in the cooking field. Where could I find the kitchen aboard this fine vessel?"
"The wench'll do. You're cook's mate now. Get yer little arse down t'the galley and talk ta old Fishguts."
"The rest of yew maggots are swabs. You'll work the decks under the lovely eye of Master Scourge. So don't be expectin' ta be treated any better than the bilge yew mop up. Questions? Good! Now GET TA WORK!"
Daytime Ship Actions:
Work Diligently: Gain a +4 bonus on any one check for a job’s daily task.
Influence: Make normal checks for a job’s daily task and attempt to influence a single NPC.
Sneak: Make normal checks for a job’s daily task and briefly explore one area of the ship (you can make a single Perception check or other skill check with no chance of detection).
Shop: Take a –2 penalty on all checks for a job’s daily task and visit the quartermaster’s store (Area A9).
Shirk: Take a –2 penalty on all checks for a job’s daily task and take time exploring one area of the ship. You can take 10 on a single Perception check or other skill check, but must make a check to avoid being discovered (generally Sleight of Hand or Stealth).
Other: Anything which doesn't fit in the above categories.
"Well lads, you know who will be spitting in your food from now on," Satinder says as she walks away to go and report for duty at old Fishguts.
Interesting name... I wonder if he *looks* like it, or if he *smells* like it...
You enter the galley to find a haphazardly thrown-together kitchen; dirty pans, bits of old food, and empty rum bottles lay everywhere. The smell isn't too pleasant either. You even notice a chicken scavenging in the corner.
In the middle of the kitchen stands a large, perhaps fat, man, who looks to be well over 200 pounds and stands around 5 feet tall. He exudes an air of neglect, perhaps even despair, from the bushy tufts of black hair behind his ears, to his rotting teeth, to the bloody stains on his filthy apron. He takes a swig from his rum bottle and greets you in a thick Shackles accent:
"Wil 'allo missay! So yer t'be th'new cook's mate, eh? Ol' Fishgut's cookin' na good enough fur dem? Dun worry a ting miss, you'll be mostly 'elpin prepare meals an' such. Fishin' a bit to, yeah?"
He drinks again from the bottle, and all of a sudden focuses himself, narrowing his eyes at you.
“It’s poison, this ship, but don’t let anyone hear you say it aloud. The hull listens, see, and the cap’n hears it all. Poison the Wormwood is, though, rotten to the core. You’ll not meet a more nasty, sour piece of work than Cap’n Harrigan in all your days at sea, and his crew’s the same, ’specially the first mate, Mr. Plugg. Vicious little sod, he is. He’d take his own mother’s liver to the butcher to make pies with, he would. But they leave me alone, mostly. They know I can’t ’arm ’em.”
At this he lapses back into his state of semi-drunkenness.
"But like I was sayin', today yer job'll be cut an' dry, you jus' help me in preparin' some bites t'eat for da' crew. Don't worry, I'll give yeh the nice an' easy bits."
Maeleg goes near the bandana'd man and tells him softly.
"Don't ever think of trying that again. We are a crew and we should help each other if we want to survive. Trust me, being alone on a ship can be quite a bad experience."
That said, he looks for his assigned officer and reports for duty.
I will go and try to find out what's in Area 11.
Lux chuckles slightly at Satinder's jest "I hope its a jest, would she spit in our food, could be worse." He notes Maeleg's encouragement of the man with the bandana. He curiously wonders about the man's feathery hair. He gathers with the others who have been declared riggers. "Hullo I am Lux. Have any of ya sailed before. The way that one," he motions over toward Plugg "fancies his Cat O' 9s he is not an encouraging teacher."
Lux thinks over the events of the climb who among the other new riggers climbed well, or climbed like they are familiar with a ships rigging. Mentally making assessment who he thinks can handle the work and who might be a liability or need help.
Skaldi had climbed on raw enthusiasm. Skill didn't really factor into it. He look comfortable enough on deck, though. He'd just introduced himself above and wasn't planning on doing so again. Lux, I've spent a fair enough time at sea. Truth be told, though, I'm far more used to oars and whores than sails and ropes. I'm like to pick it up as time goes by.
Lux laughs, "Whores work the same on these southern ships so you will do fine there."
With a belly laugh Skaldi slaps Lux on the shoulder. Aye, I'm sure they do. Realizing that the catfolk hadn't herd his name above deck, he passes it on now Skaldi the Tallest.
"Aye Sir." Lux climbs to position and works hard for the day. He is diligent and willing to help those who need assistance.
Maeleg spends his time delivering messages and exploring the ship.
Ambrose sneers with derision at Scourge. "That's devil boy to you, you ignorant cur. If I'm to be mocked by the likes of you, you'll at least do it properly."
After a morning of skillful pest-control, Ambrose stands up and stretches. Noticing some unsightly stains on his uniform from the work, he mutters a short spell and the stains disappear. Glancing at his fellow conscript, he appraises the man's head-scarf with interest. He strikes up a conversation in Varisian, what he hopes is the man's native tongue. "That is a beautiful scarf. It is a kapenia, no?"
Skaldi does well enough in the rigging to keep himself out of trouble. he's even got time to speak with the other rigger. Conchobar, you look like you were trying to find a life on a pirate ship. How did you wind up press-ganged with the rest of us?
That is a mighty fine coat. Would you like to hear the tale of the last Gnome I met on the high seas? He was just a hair shorter than your fine statured self, and he was lacking in stylish headgear, but... The story goes on. It culminates in the gnome catching a crocodile and cooking it for Skaldi while they were marooned together for three days. It ends with Skaldi reassuring Conchobar that the two might have been cousins.
Somewhere in the middle Skaldi asks Conchobar, may I call you Conch? Such a suiting pirate name that is. It's like you were born for the sea.
Satinder starts to feel in the water.
Someone might have lost something in here, who knows what treasure she could find.
I feel 14 again, sifting through filth, hoping to find a gem. Hah, the older I become, the same everything remains...
...
Did I hear something? Better get a move on
"I wish he had some rats or something, you know? Always good to have a back-up..."
Ambrose sneers with derision at Scourge. "That's devil boy to you, you ignorant cur. If I'm to be mocked by the likes of you, you'll at least do it properly."
Thas funny. I don't remember askin' ye to talk. Shut yer gob and get down to the bilges! Scourge shouts, lashing out with his whip as well.
The whip cracks in the air next to you, but it is clear that his intention was to hit.
You just talk to me?
He turns his back to you and continues mopping.
In spite of his blatant insults, Conchobar's tone does not seem spiteful, and while you know he certainly wouldn't call you a friend, it's clear that you're getting there.
The stranger is wide awake and has been watching you, not saying a word.
Ambrose turns and walks away without another word, heading belowdecks.
The tiefling snorts involuntarily at the man. He rolls his eyes, shaking his head at the man's back. He tries again, this time in the common tongue. "I took you for a Varisian. My mistake. Where did you get that scarf?"
The man lets his mop fall to the floor and turns back to face Ambrose.
"Lifted it off a man. A dead man. A man I killed in a fistfight."
He's obviously trying to make himself quite intimidating.
"You ever been in a fight before tiefling?"
I suppose I should have expected this. If it looks like a thug, smells like a thug, talks like a thug...
Ambrose tries to deflect the man's hostility with humor. Shifting his posture, he tries to make himself look smaller, less threatening, but unafraid. He lets out a small laugh, pivots his stance to the side to minimize confrontational body-language (and to make a smaller target). "Hah! A few, I admit, though I avoid fisticuffs as much as I can. However, try as I might, I inevitably encounter somebody who seems to lack the capacity to resist their baser urges to assault my person. It's something that I have never understood. Tell me, is it something to do with my face? Do I just look punchable?"
The man cracks into a smile for a second, then goes back to grimacing.
Heh, who doesn't? You're a funny one. Don't suppose those horns would do much good in a fight though, eh? Stay of my nerves and I won't hurt you, deal?
Ambrose flashes a grin. "I believe we have ourselves an accord. I should ask, how do you name yourself? I am Lieutenant Ambrose Jeggare, of the Korvosan Jeggares."