Chumtooth draws his morningstar and swings at the invisible force, hoping to connect. Trusting his instincts to guide him, he also bites out his unseen attacker.
Active Effects
- Good Hope (Prasi): +2 morale to saves, attacks, ability checks, skill checks, and weapon damage
- Haste (Prasi): +1 to attacks and reflex saves; +1 dodge to AC; +30' all movement
- Inspire Courage (Prasi): +5 morale to saves v charm and fear; +5 competence to attacks and weapon damage
- Resist Energy (Electric) 20
- Lead Blades
- Fly (Dantes): 60'
Faengrim hurries over to help defend his captain.
Mwk Greatsword:
Dantes reaches out for the entity, using his most powerful magic to do so.
Chumtooth continues to lash out at his assailant.
Active Effects
- Good Hope (Prasi): +2 morale to saves, attacks, ability checks, skill checks, and weapon damage
- Haste (Prasi): +1 to attacks and reflex saves; +1 dodge to AC; +30' all movement
- Inspire Courage (Prasi): +5 morale to saves v charm and fear; +5 competence to attacks and weapon damage
- Resist Energy (Electric) 20
- Lead Blades
- Fly (Dantes): 60'
Now that he can better see it, Faengrim goes all out.
Mwk Greatsword:
Mwk Greatsword:
Mwk Greatsword:
Claw: magic, silver
Bite: magic, silver
Carmelia cackles as Hap sprays ink all over her attacker. "That's my octopus!"
Now that she can see it, she tries to identify the entity.
She then begins casting a spell with one hand while keeping the other on the wheel. Feeling confident in her ability to dodge, she casts without taking additional precautions.
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Carmelia begins casting a spell and the entity attacks! Fortunately, it misses the agile sailor and she completes her spell. She thinks for a moment, studying the outline of her attacker. Then it comes to her. These must be invisible stalkers!
Chumtooth lashes out at his foe, missing with his morningstar, but making a solid connection with his bite!
Faengrim goes after the one menacing Caramelia (only a 20% miss chance on that one due to the inking). He savages the target with his flurry of attacks, but it remains standing.
INITIATIVE
Stalker 2
Carmelia
Chumtooth
Prasi
Faengrim
Stalker 1
Dantes
The haste is still in effect for 3 rounds!
Damage Track
Chumtooth -49 hp
Faengrim -41 hp
Stalker 2 -65 hp
Stalker 1 -15 hp
Prasi lets her performance linger, then moves closer to Carmelia and tries to help by attacking the stalking creature with her rapier.
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Prasi slashes with her rapier and is rewarded by the solid ring of steel against flesh!
Chumtooth's opponent manages to connect once more, but the damage is fairly minimal .
Damage Track
Chumtooth -56 hp (facing Stalker 1)
Faengrim -41 hp (facing Stalker 2)
Stalker 2 -74 hp (20% miss)
Stalker 1 -15 hp (50% miss)
Chumtooth continues his attack upon his invisible foe.
Dantes reaches out with his will again, trying to grapple the invisible stalker again to make it easy prey for his captain.
Turn 2 of telekinesis, attempt grapple
Miss chance
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This time, Dantes manages to grapple the foe and hold it steady (the stalker is now grappled).
Carmelia's opponent grows more desperate and madly swings at the sailor manning the helm but to no avail.
The haste is still in effect for 2 rounds!
Damage Track
Chumtooth -56 hp (facing Stalker 1)
Faengrim -41 hp (facing Stalker 2)
Stalker 2 -74 hp (20% miss)
Stalker 1 -15 hp (50% miss, grappled [-4 Dex])
With one hand on the wheel , ducking and weaving out of the way of the ink-covered invisibile stalker, Carmelia feels the tingle of electricity throughout the storm coalescing around her. Her arm itself feels like a lightning rod, and she narrows her eyes at the inky blob. "How about a little taste of home?" she quips, snapping her fingers. A bolt of lightning arcs down from the stormy skies, striking the stalker (but thanks to careful aim, sparing the boat that she has spent so much time and maintenance on) .
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Carmelia casts a spell that brings a bolt of lightning down to strike her foe, dispersing it utterly! The captain swings with renewed vigor, managing to connect with his Morningstar, but not his fearsome bite! Faengrim, seeing that Carmelia has taken care of one stalker, turns his attention to the one menacing the captain.
The stalker flails wildly, trying to escape the invisible hands that hold it, but it cannot break free!
The haste is in effect for one more round!
Damage Track
Chumtooth -56 hp (facing Stalker 1)
Faengrim -41 hp (facing Stalker 2)
Stalker 2 [color=red]DEAD[/color]
Stalker 1 -50 hp (50% miss, grappled [-4 Dex])
Fresh from frying one invisible stalker and keen to finish the job so she can win this race, Carmelia snaps her fingers once more to scourge the remaining threat.
Chumtooth swings his morningstar again at the grappled, invisible foe.
He also attempts to bite again.
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Faengrim does confirm the critical, so the stalker is at -77 hp, and with Chumtooth's additional attack, it expires!
The finish line of the regatta lies at a tiny island called Coaming Point, about 25 miles northwest of Cauldron Rock. The first ship to sail past the island wins the regatta. Harrigan makes a valiant effort to catch up, but the Wormwood is unable to do so and you cross the finish line as the clear winners!
With 16 entrants, including yourselves, the purse totals 8,000 gp, which the Master of the Gales turns over to you. Taking Chumtooth's arm, he attaches a silver-plated broken manacle around his wrist. "Know all assembled," he says as he does so,"That these good folk now have a seat on the Pirate Council. This shackle represents freedom from the constraints of other nations’ laws and authority, but also the responsibility that now binds you to the welfare of the Shackles and its people, whom you now represent. Finally, I grant you this deed which proclaims you the owners of a small island north of the Shackles. But a deed is just a piece of paper and to truly claim your new home, you will need to explore it and deal with any inhabitants there."
As the Kiss of Vengeance sails past Coaming Point and maintains a steady pace ahead of the Wormwood, Carmelia begins leaping up into the air while Hap desperately attempts to keep a hold of the wheel and maintain a study course. She whoops and hollers, raising a cheer for Captain Chumtooth's leadership and letting off all of her remaining spells in a torrent of wind and water in a display to rival the Eye of Abendego.
"Three cheers for Captain Chumtooth!" she cries, raising her umpteenth glass of mead for the day. Her magic to transmute water into mead had been excellent at keeping her sailing skills sharp throughout the duration of the race, but she was also sloshed by this point. She flirts her way up and down the winner's ceremony, slurring her words and conducting herself with absolutely no decorum becoming of someone allied with a member of the Pirate Council. Or was it perfect decorum? She frankly didn't care, and she leads several off-key tunes in taverns across town into the wee hours of the morning.
Chumtooth roars in approval of the cheers for him, his officers, and his crew.
"The Kiss of Vengeance beat all other ships in the reh-gah-tah! Someone even tried to cheat us of our prize, and we still won! If The Eye could not defeat us? Who can?!"
The morning after the regatta, Carmelia wakes up with her head pounding, loud enough to wake the dead and then kill them again. Her eyes open as she tries to get her bearings. She finds herself somewhere in a pile of limbs. At least she was in a bed. A comfortable one, too. A decent thread count and, by the smell and feel of it, goose feather pillows. With a few grunts and groans (hers and others), she disentangles herself from the pile and slides off of the bed to find her clothes. With the smell of salty air and now-stale rum pervading the room, she gets dressed and offers a brief prayer asking Besmara to end the skull-splitting pain. With wobbly steps, she emerges from his previous night's carnivale onto of the docks. It doesn't take long for Hap to scuttle up the side of a wooden piling near her nighttime accommodations and rest atop her head, holding out his tentacles to shield her eyes from the worst of the morning sun's rays.
She is far from the first one awake, and the docks are busy.
"What happened last night?" she asks Hap.
<You won a drinking contest and bedded the losers,> the octopus responds in his curious way.
"Hurray and good for me," she says with a belch. Not just rum there, ope--
She falls to her knees and pitches some of whatever she had had for dinner into the sea. Hap, for his part, holds her hair back. Good familiar. Feeling somewhat better, she stands back up and looks around. "Which way back to the Kiss?" she asks. There was a certain benefit to having a spirit animal that didn't drink like she did. It meant that she could and avoid at least some of the consequences.
Hap points a tentacle and Carmelia lifts her hand to her forehead and squints. "How in the bloody pits of Avernus did I get over here?" she asks incredulously. There is no verbal response, but she feels her octopus sort of shrug on top of her head. "All right then, fine. Lead the way."
Carmelia ambles over to the Kiss, trying her damndest to find as much shade from the sun as possible, but eventually makes it back aboard her vessel. She admires her crew's craftsmanship as she comes back up--they had transformed the ship into something worthy of winning a race against the best that the Shackles had to offer, and she was proud of them all. And she had done some good sailing, too, if she had to say so herself.
Carmelia wonders for a moment how many of the rest of the crew had similar ideas to her and wandered off. Was the Captain aboard? It seemed like he almost never left the vessel unless it was absolutely necessary. She sways towards his quarters, suppressing another desire to feed the fish, and knocks on the door. "Mornin', Captain Chumtooth. Or is that Lord Captain now, eh?"
"Enter!" comes the firm, but slightly muffled reply for beyond the door.
The Captain's cabin is not currently illuminated by anything other than faint slivers of sunlight piercing the shutters.
In the center of the room, a completely nude Chumtooth sits upon a low wooden stool with this back to the door. Beside him is a bucket of steaming, soapy water. He dips a long handled brush, and then proceeds to scub it across his broad-muscled, and heavily scarred back.
He turns his head slightly to see Carmelia standing in the door, his dark, wide pupils catching flickers of the light from the doorway.
He does not seem concerned or embarrassed by his state. "What do you want, Carmelia?"
The changeling woman enters when invited, pleased to be known by her voice alone. Carmelia's hag-blessed eyes need no light to see Chumtooth's state, and she smirks as she crosses the threshold of the cabin and allows the door to close behind her.
Carmelia takes up a lean against a cabinet to the side of the room and fixes Chumtooth with her characteristic gaze: a mix of allure and unnerving. Though she means nothing forward by it, her voice is sultry, lingering on certain sounds and flowing melodically around her phrases, skirting around the tones of flirtation and condescension as their ship had narrowly avoided jagged rocks and sandbars. Her tone very nearly clashes with the matter-of-factness of her words. But Chumtooth is probably used to her manner of speech by now, whether he finds it off-putting or not.
"Want? Oh, just a chat if you have the time. We've been sailing together a while now, and I only just learned of your press-ganging and mutiny right before the race. Quite a meteoric rise to now sit on the Pirate Council, if you spend a moment thinking on it. I just wanted to see how our Captain is feeling. Reflections and such."
Chumtooth shrugs as he dips the brush again and continues scrubbing.
"The word 'Lord' is like 'Chief'. I have become a Lord the same way I would become a chief, by being stronger than those who would be also be Chief. I am strong, and those who tried to kill me or stop me have failed. I have found allies, those whose strength works with mine, who can be counted on not to cut my throat while I sleep, and this is no small thing. "
He pauses long enough to ladle some water from the bucket and rise the suds away.
"The ship that attacked us at the end was the Worm-wood, and its Captain was Harrigan, the one who gave me sleeping herbs, and took me for his crew. His head will one day be on my belt. He will only escape this fate if he kills me first. His attack during the race was that of a coward. He will not face me unless I have him cornered, like a rat. He will, very soon, try and kill me again in the manner of a coward. I do not doubt this."
He rises from the stool, lifting the bucket as he does, and dumps it over his body. He then reaches back and wrings the soapy water from his locks.
He strides over to a chair and grabs a towel, and proceeds to pat himself dry.
No small thing indeed. Carmelia appreciates her Captain's bluntness. It is a genuinely happy thing to have people you trust enough to not slip a knife against your unprotected neck. Carmelia had usually gotten level of trust by making herself useful to the right people, or else guaranteeing that she would be more trouble dead than alive. But that was par for the course for a Red Mantis Assassin, even one less well-versed in their gruesome combat.
"All things must die, in their time--or when a contract seals their fate," Carmelia says, quoting an Achaekekian aphorism. "You want him dead," she states, obviously. "Do you want his death to be by your hand? Or..." Carmelia flexes her hand, her long fingernails glinting ever so slightly in the dim light. "Before I joined your crew, I made my living in Ilizmagorti. If you command it, Harrigan will die."
"I wish to face him. I do not wish another to kill him at my request. If we are both fighting him, and you land the killing blow, so be it. You will have the right to claim his head and skull as your trophy. I do not wish you cut his throat while he sleeps."
"Fair enough," Carmelia says with a bow of her head. She doesn't particularly like the idea of having a shrunken head for her own trophy--that seemed much more like her Captain's flair than hers--and she doubts she would land a killing blow in a fair combat either way. But maybe--she has been becoming more adept lately.
"What now, then? Do we claim our island and see the extent of our prize? What do you aspire to next? You have influence. You have land. You could command your own fleet if you wanted it. Whatever Harrigan's designs may be, your crew will stand in between you and his coward blades."
"Yes. That would be good. That we watsh each others' backs."
His pronunciation of the word 'watch' sounded like it could also be 'wash'.
Chumtooth tosses aside the towel, and begins donning his clothes and armor.
"Let us gather supplies for the voyage, recruit new crew such as we need, and claim the island we have won."
"Aye aye, captain," Carmelia says, drawing herself back up. "I'll get to work on some repairs after I drink something that isn't rum. You'll know where to find me by the sound of the hammering."
And so she does.
Faengrim is already on the ship when Carmelia arrives. He is damp and smells of the briny deep. Though he is normally harsh with the crew, this morning Carmelai witnesses him indulging in some comradery with them as he partakes in the stories they have to tell about the race and the ensuing revelries. He's just finishing the tale of how he spent his night battling a group of sahaugin, having his way with some of the women and then having to kill them too. "I do have some regret about having to kill that one. She had such ample teeth." And he shows a new necklace of shark-like teeth.
He takes notice of Carmelia, "Welcome aboard." He pours a mug of whatever they are drinking and holds it out for her. "Join us, witch. Tell us some of your dark and sultry tales." He says smiling his tooth-filled smile.
Carmelia grins with her own double-row of sharp teeth. It was almost comforting in a way, after her last crew had been so disconcerted with her additional set of teeth, to be on a crew where it was not a complete aberration. "Well good morning," she says, accepting the mug. She sniffs it. "Hair of the dog it is, then." She retrieves her broad hat and places it over her head (and her octopus) for some additional shade from the punishing morning sun. "I also bedded some folk last night, though they were still breathing when I woke up this morning, so I have no keepsake save for a few fresh bruises." She pulls down her collar and winks.
"Dark and sultry tales? Do I have that reputation already? Hmmm..." The witch draws a long nail across her chin, looking thoughtful, before settling on one of her favorites. "I suppose I have time for stories before I get to ship repairs. Well, you know that Chelish colony down south, Sargava?" She spits. "Chelish pricks. Well I got a contract to keep an eye on some folks in Eleder, their capital, basic information gathering. Wouldn't you know, the Baron's son had a thing for pretty pale girls with dark hair. I didn't even have to try hard to get him talking. Just a flip of the hair, batting my eyelashes, shaking my hips, and I was in." She does her best pouty-lipped come-hither stare in demonstration and then laughs. That had been before she had teeth to spare.
"So I'm shacking up with him for a couple of weeks, getting all sorts of state secrets and feeding them back to my handlers when his fancy Chelish fiancée surprises him by coming into town. He insisted that I had to leave before she found us together, that he loved me but had to keep up appearances, and all that drollery. Of course, I had him tied up at that point--he not only had a thing for pretty pale girls with dark hair, but he liked that I knew how to tie him up in knots. So I just waited until she knocked on his chambers, while he begged and pleaded for me to go, or for me to let him go. When she came in, all--" Carmelia mockingly puts one hand to her chest and the other outstretched on her forehead, looking up dramatically with a gasp, "Shock and bewilderment, he started claiming that I was torturing him. But he was a bad liar, and we could all three hear the servants laughing in the hall as he tried to pretend that he hadn't been begging for a riding crop to his bum every night, whinnying like a horse. So the fancy fiancée sees a nice little knife on the table, and goes to grab it. And, well...let's just say that she didn't cut the ropes."
The witch leans back and takes a good gulp from the mug. "What about you, Faengrim? Is dark and sultry your trade, or are you more of a rip and tear type?
"If you're in condition to make repairs today, then you didn't celebrate enough last night." He takes a deep drought to accent his point. "And the sea is my lady. Any other I spend time with is only a substitute until she calls me to meet my end in her dark, mysterious embrace." His next drink is taken with more solemnity.
"Oh, 'Grim, there's magic for that," Carmelia chides back. "I'd as soon take my hammer to my head with the way it's pounding. But I'm happy to keep the celebration on! We deserve it as we deserve the Sea!" She clinks her mug against his, along with a few of the other sailors nearby. "To our Lady, the Sea! And Captain Chumtooth! And booze, and men, and women!"
When Dantes joins the others at the table, his arms are full of parchment. Scrolls and charts of various sizes in an unorganized jumble. Before he sits, he pushes a large space clear on the tabletop and plops his hoard down.
"Mornin'," he mumbles. Two documents in particular seem to hold his attention: the deed that they were granted and the magical charts. The other parchments he reviews with varying degrees of scrutiny before setting them aside.
Finally, he looks up at the others. "Not much known about this place that I can find."
Trying to figure out what Dantes may know or have heard rumors about this island that they won.
Knowledge (geography)
Knowledge (history)
Knowledge (local)
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You have managed to accumulate precious little information, but can piece together the following:
The island lies in the northern part of the Shackles and has no known settlements, but Chelish warships have sometimes been scouted in the waters near the island. Sailors claim the island got its name (the Island of Empty Eyes) from the large statues along its shores. The statues’ eyes are missing, though some say the bare sockets once held enormous gemstones. Colonists settled the island once before and built a fort there, but they disappeared soon after. Some say they left on a treasure hunt, but others claim they perished and their spirits now haunt the island. Some say giant-sized ruins stand in the island’s highlands. They’re filled with ancient treasure, but ravenous dinosaurs fiercely guard the ruins. The island’s ruins date back to the time of ancient Ghol-Gan--an empire of cyclopes that once spanned the entire west coast of Garund.
Carmelia listens to Dantes' tales with rapt attention. "Haunted ruins, lost treasures, and enormous beasts? Well that certainly sounds like an adventure!" She claps her hands and grins. "A bit of booty is well worth a trip as long as it keeps us sailing. So I suppose, then, the only question is whether we take any supplies before we sail out."
"Supplies and hearty souls. Plenty of wood and stone to make repairs on this fort, food for the workers, and weapons to fend off the island's dangers. Either you or Dantes need anything special for what you do?"
Carmelia reaches into her pack and pulls out a hammer. "The biggest tasks often require simple tools. I can pick up a few spell components, no doubt. I'll make a list and grab my gold purse."
Dantes scratches his beard as he considers."We will likely have to make more than one foray onto the island to make sure it is safe for mere laborers. We cannot assume there will be a pier capable of handling the Kiss, so we'd best decide on a small team of us to row ashore. One of our command crew should remain with the vessel to keep morale up and limit grog rations." He glances around the officers gathered in Chumtooth's quarters. "Prasi, perhaps you? Unless you were looking forward to a trudge in the jungle rather than hardwood planks under your boots?"
"While we will need to row out to the island, we should have a place reserved here on the ship. I have a spell prepared now that can be used to magically retreat if needed, though it is not entirely without risks of its own. We should have a small cabin cleared out for its use."
"A good plan," Chumtooth replies, nodding in approval. "Prasi, you will be in command of the ship while we are ashore. We will leave a cabin empty, as Dantes has indicated, where his magic can transport us, if we are gravely wounded."
Carmelia nods along. "I do rather like not dying before my time. Although if someone does die, I'll bring you back." She doesn't explain that their bodies likely won't be the same if that happens, but that was a bridge to cross if she had to drag one of their souls back out of the Boneyard.
The witch starts thinking about what talents she could bring to an island exploration. There was much that she would need to discuss with Hap later as they got closer to the island.
"Then the fort is the obvious first destination. We should make that our base of operations while we explore."
"Agreed," Chumtooth replies, nodding. "We will make anchor near the fort, establish a camp, and then explore the island."
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The journey to the Island of Empty Eyes takes several weeks and is mostly uneventful. A high plateau forms the north and central portions of the island, surrounded by 500-foot-high cliffs. Two long peninsulas jut from the plateau to the southeast and southwest. Two sheltered bays offer the best anchorages, a large one to the south and a smaller bay to the east. In addition, a number of beaches where boats can land line the island’s shores. Scattered across the island, but especially along the beaches and cliffs of the central plateau, are large, weathered statues of giant cyclopes. The statues are all clearly of great age, but their single eyes, which once contained large and valuable gemstones, are now just empty holes—the reason for the island’s mysterious epithet.
Approaching the island, you discover a number of low-lying shoals and barrier reefs just offshore. You must navigate these hazards to bring your ship into one of the sheltered bays and make landfall. The ship’s pilot must make three successful DC 20 sailing checks. Alternatively, you can make three successful DC 30 Knowledge (nature) checks. Spotters can also assist the pilot—each successful DC 20 Perception check grants a cumulative +1 circumstance bonus on a sailing check.
Also, you can leave your ship offshore and use the ship’s boats to reach the island. This makes navigating the shoals a much easier task (granting the sailing checks a +5 circumstance bonus), but your ship must remain nearly half a mile off the coast to avoid running aground.
Please give me the three required checks, based on whether you will be sailing in, using Knowledge (nature), or bringing in the ship's boats. Also, let me know where you are choosing to come ashore; the large southern bay, the smaller eastern one, or one of the many beaches that line the shores. The old fort is present in the large southern bay.
"Captain," Carmelia says as the Kiss approaches the Island of Empty Eyes. "Assuming that the Fort is still our first destination, I'll bring us into the Southern Bay. I wouldn't mind some spotters, of course. But this looks much easier than the race around the Eye."
Carmelia seems pleased by her smooth sailing, raising her eyebrows to the Captain. "I didn't even need to drink for that," she jests. It had become a joke with the crew that the witch was a better sailor when she was drinking--actually true given the magically enhanced brew that she sipped, but still a source of amusement. She looks to Hap, lazily lounging around her neck. "Whaddya think, Hap? Ready for some exploration?"
The little octopus stretches and seems to yawn, shrugging and curling his tentacles up.