Golarion Galaxies (Inactive)

Game Master Jaster Kite

Prologue: Float On
Heaven's Scythe was running on a skeleton crew. It was three quarters of what was technically needed, though that was always more of a suggestion than a full-on rule, in the Captain's opinion, and under half of what it could fit comfortably. Walking down the halls, it almost appeared dead. The surest sign of life was a torrent of creative curses uttered by Captain Mercer as he stormed down the halls. "Gods-Damned engine failure my sweet arse." His fists clenched tightly. "Where in the Nine Hells is my pilot!" He shouted down the halls, his voice echoing. "Bloody auto-pilot's on the fritz and we're still a day away from Cheliax.
Mercer was a tall, broad Ulfen man in his late thirties, long hair slipped tightly into a traditional hat that he saw on the holo-dramas and thought might look dashing, beard kept neat and tidy with the care that a dwarf might possess. Normally a patient man, shouting has become more and more common nowadays since a good chunk of his crew left him last month in the Wrayiff System, and took most of hi patience with him.
Now all he wanted was to dock this ship in Cheliax, pick up the supplies they needed for a month already, and take his leave from that Devil's Rock.
He tried to calm down. "Besmara help us." He muttered.

Here's where I typically like the players to introduce themselves and roleplay a bit. Have fun, and be sure to tell your story about how you made it onto the Scythe. Now would also be a good time to discuss in the discussion board who is the pilot.

It had been a while since she and Stishas had parted ways. For some reason he missed the ship and, truth be told, it was for the best. Fraejia knew she was becoming attached to him and that it would be a poor idea to do so. So sands her companion she boarded the ship and had been here ever since. It wasn't a bad vessel to crew on, her shipmates weren't terrible, and her talents were of value. No, Fraejia's only real complaint was the engine room, where she spent most of her shifts, was far too hot for her taste, still it wasn't like that was unusual for her. She'd also begun studying astronomy since she boarded, she knew it wouldn't hurt as the more she could do the more secure her berth on the vessel was.

Fraejia was just heading to the mess hall when she heard the captain storming about and looking for the pilot. She knew she hadn't the skill to pilot the ship, but she might be able to do something about the autopilot. She called out as she passed Mercer, "I'll grab a toolkit and see what I can do on the autopilot, as for the pilot I have no clue." Fraejia quickly headed towards the machine shop to grab a tool kit before she headed towards the bridge. As she went she took out a pair of earbuds and stuck them into her ears then pushed a button on a small device at her waist as she went.

Problems already, cap? Not makin' the best first impression for all the new recruits, are ya?" Razza grinned toothily at Captain Mercer, a display who's effect was rather diminished by the muzzle strapped to her face. Razza was of absolutely no help in the current predicament-her best points were not in the technical aspects of running a ship, but rather in her willingness to do things that might make other crewmates queasy-which left her plenty of time to make snide remarks at her master.

As far as she could tell, Razza was definitely a slave but in the loosest sense of the word; she would get paid for her job and buying her freedom was considered an inevitability as long as she did not do anything to screw it up, and she more or less had the freedom to move around as long as she told the captain where she was first. It was better than she had expected when she was marched out of that prison, though the muzzle was still an irritant. The Captain claimed it was to make the other crew members more comfortable around her, but Razza was experienced enough in scaring people that she was pretty sure it was causing the opposite effect. Without the muzzle the other crew members would eventually have to accept that she was not actually going to bite any of her mates; with it, they were reminded that the only thing keeping their throats attached to their bodies was the fact that the scary Pitborn lady's teeth were firmly secured.

Razza enjoyed the irony enough to not question it, though she hoped Mercer had the good sense to let her loose when the time to spill blood rolled around. She hadn't had the opportunity to kill anyone since she was imprisoned so she really wanted to enjoy it when the time came.

.was a bit of flake if you ask me Neve says poking her head out of the main deck the start of her comment lost in a muffled echo. I guess I could take over the pilot's seat but I'm not being paid to fly this thing. Hell I'm not even being paid to navigate either I'm s'posed to be just an intern getting "valuable experience on my resume" right? Only reason I guided us to the center of Hellspace was 'cause no one else was doing that either. Her raised eyebrow and the way she punctuates almost random words in the middle of her sentence with a raised lilt making it clear that the new girl (woman?) was pretty irritated by the whole business. Making air quotes around 'valuable experience on my resume' just put an extra snarky spin on her tone.

Opal breathes deeply. This was not what she expected when she read the flyer. She was glad not to be the weirdest person in the room for once though.

We are meant to go to this Cheliax, yes? Do you suppose you would be able to make that happen faster than a malfunctioning program? You could use your help as leverage later. She suggests to the annoyed woman.

Captain? May I release the slave? I doubt she will make things worse than they already are. She slowly moves to open the restraints, but waits for confirmation.

This is space travel? I'm surprised at the similarities in a sea voyage.

Ludvick stuck his head out from his door, letting out a bit of a yawn. He had been up late doing a bit of research in his room after running a few simulations on the ships computer. Ever since he had joined up with the crew he had been running himself a bit ragged trying to keep up on work as well as his own research. He had made his way onto the ship after his own had finally broken down on some back water planet. Sadly while he was on the planet his reputation as a necromancer had gotten out as well. if he had not managed to make his way onto the ship as one of it's repair men he would have been in serious trouble with the locals. He was glad to be in good company. Many of them did not seem to mind any of his quirks. He pulled on a pair of brown trousers and a yellow shirt before slipping his lab coat on. His hair was a bit of a mess but even so the vein of his slightly enlarged skull were clearly visible underneath the skin. "I got no idea where the pilot is. This ship is surprisingly hard to navigate even after our time here." He spotted muzzle mouth, the little nick name he had given to the tiefling on board. He would never call her that to her face of course. "Morn-err, afternoon? To be honest I have no idea what time it is.He says with a shrug as he goes to head to help repair the system. On his way to the console he also spotted Fraejia. He had grown interested in the women. He was not very familiar with her race and his curiosity had been starting to get the better of him. He had made a mental note to question her a bit more but the opportunity had never presented itself to him in the course of their travel so far. She always seemed to have those damned noise plugs in her ears. He poked over her shoulder as she worked to help fix it up. He lightly taps her on the shoulder before moving to help. "Why don't you let me assist you? Have to make myself feel useful some how after all."
engineering: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (10) + 10 = 20
As he started to work he would try to think of the nicest way to ask is he could do some research into her body structure with out running the risk of being shot out of the air lock. He had already had a foul experience with a misunderstanding of his words before before arriving on the ship.

Following behind the captain's cursing, Ellion's footfalls were soft by comparison, the bare bottoms of his feet warm against the cool deck of the ship.

Auto-pilot. Not automobiles, but self-directing flight.

For all his intellect, dialects, idioms, and the inveitable morphing of language bases still had to be sorted-out with each awakening by Ellion. Besmara did not though. She's ancient - older than I am.

Mercer didn't particularly care for Ellion following him around often, though the man was between a rock and a hard place as the old saying went; with no crew, he was willing to take the "drifter", as the alchemist was pawned-off on him, for supplemental work around the ship. Little did he know how much preparation the out-of-place doctor would require.

"Is there not a manual around, captain? We could read how to work this craft." Ellion's suggestion was heard before the pair came into view around the corner of a corridor.

I searched for a few pictures that would be close to the appearance I had for Ellion. The first link to follow in the upcoming paragraph is a little risque, but it captures a better feeling for the elf's personality as well as the physicality (though without the tattoo). The second link gives an idea of the a style of garb he wouldn't be opposed to, out-of-time for the current era as it might be. Both images are credited to Lanaluu, whose work happens to put well to image my imagination.

While the ulfen captain had his broad shoulders, Ellion possessed a more slender grace, his heritage quite clear. Of the old blood, his hair was nearly white, while his skin managed to retain pigmentation a few shades darker than his modern-day brethren. Fit but not muscular, flexible without being athletic, he would make an excellent role model for a physician. This fit was appropriate as he was a physician, at least in ages past. The lingering effects of the societal status which followed the lofty position could be seen in his poise as the pair walked.

What was not apparent was much beyond the smallclothes Ellion was found in. The captain had gotten him to wear a more modest robe at times, though Ellion seemed indifferent to its status of equip. He did, however, wear a silver amulet with a sky blue stone set within, the chain merely an organic strap. The man didn't keep himself from getting jettisoned out an airlock with his fashion sense though.

Rather, it was his acute memory and adaptability.

"Even if we are late to that destination, the population is cutthroat. We could surely play our services to some other bidder to the original recipient's loss - and our gain. That is the Chelish way."

Mercer was not as patient as the odd elf, the colorfully-worded outbursts proof of the fact. This delay of judgment was a boon to Ellion, for his crewmates were quite a diverse bunch. Presently, he gazed with the captain upon an individual whose teeth could probably sever a neck in a few chomps.

I can see why the muzzle is used. Why the release though?

He worried not. After all, the creature could either control its impulses or would likely go after the greatest apparent threat. Physically, that would be Mercer...

Razza raised an eyebrow at the elf's suggestion. "Ya lookin' to get yourself shot, pointy-ears? The Chelish value a contract more than anything. Pull a fast one like that and the insulted party will track you down to the ends of the galaxy just to prove they can't be disrespected. A bigger ship with a bigger crew and bigger guns could get away with it, MAYBE, but a dinghy like this doesn't stand a chance."

Razza's old crew dealt with Chelish nobles plenty of times; there's always a market there for crews willing to do dirty deeds for a good price. Such as, for example, boarding a trade vessel and killing everyone on-board, classic "make it messy, make it look random" jobs. Razza wasn't ready to be on the receiving end of that just yet.

Fraejia seemed caught sight of Ludvic and popped one of the earplugs out, as she did he could hear what came from it even though it likely made no sense to him. She nodded and said, "Sure, two can get the job done quicker." With Ludvic now assisting she kept the one plug out of her ear and turned the volume down a bit to better hear him.

knowledge (engineering): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18

"If you could do that Fraejia, you're looking at first pick on whatever we have left in the freezer." Mercer said, his face softening up.
"What new recruits?" He asked Razza. "This place was any deader and we'd have Clerics breathing down our necks."
He snapped his finger at Neve. "Well, you're not getting payed to just stand there, so go an' make yourself useful." He waved his hand. "You'll get yer pay when you contribute. Not to mention your first decent meal in a month once we finally land."
He gives Opal a look, then nods. "Not too many people for her to bight now, isn't there? Besides, she wouldn't risk it. Not when our cleaner systems have been malfunctiioning for the last week."
Ludvic and Fraejia's repairs fix the autopilot.
"Don't suppose he left with the other traitors, do ya? Haven't seen him in a while...
"Ellion, glad to see you're done with your meditations and decided to make yourself useful."
He snapped a finger at Razza. "The Scythe is not a dinghy." He growled. "It is a magnificent cargo freighter and my best friend. Don't make me regret Fraejia pulling that muzzle offa ya."

Razza raised an eyebrow at the elf's suggestion. "Ya lookin' to get yourself shot, pointy-ears? The Chelish value a contract more than anything. Pull a fast one like that and the insulted party will track you down to the ends of the galaxy just to prove they can't be disrespected. A bigger ship with a bigger crew and bigger guns could get away with it, MAYBE, but a dinghy like this doesn't stand a chance."

"I'm confident Captain Mercer has the skill to lead us in the right direction."

Grumbling Neve plops down on the pilot seat. Well let's get this tub on the ground.

Pilot to land: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (2) + 10 = 12

Actually here is a question. By the text of Guiding Star Neve should get Cha bonus to a lot of skill checks all the time in space as long as there is a window to look out. Is that okay or a bit gamey?

Fraejia slid inside of the access panel, twisted part way around in it, and somehow snaked an arm almost out of the other side as she'd been getting to the problem. With the last bit of wiring fixed she managed to reverse her course and dropped back onto her feet. She placed her hands on the small of her back and leaned backwards as she stretched her spine, this caused interesting things to happen as her top clung to her tightly due to moisture that condensed on her while she'd been working. She smiled and said, "There, the autopilot is now fixed." She turned her attention to Ludvic briefly, "Thanks for the help." She began to head towards the hall with her toolkit, "Now, if you don't mind, I think I need to relax for a bit, that was a rather uncomfortable position to be in for that long."

Ludvic had started to help her before he decided to go and grab his supplies. He left for about a minute before he came back being trailed by a human skeleton. The bones had been cleaned to a bright white, removing any flesh or other dirt from them. Hanging from it's rids were a variety of hooks that had been set into the bone, hanging from which were wrenches, screwdrivers, and any other of his repair tools. On op of it's head was a small silver handle. Finally on the undeads forehead were the words "Toolkit" Ludvic walked back over to her to help, handing her supplies when ever she needed any of them. Once she was done though he gave a simple shrug. "Ehh, I was bored. Aren't many subjects I can get my hands on right now after all. Keeping my skills sharp with repairs is the best that I can do." As she stretched back his eyes never left her face. As she walked away though he looked to his skeleton that had been gazing absently in her general direction before smacking it on the back of the head. "Its rude to stare. Follow" He commands the skeleton as he folds his hands behind him as he walked. He could go and scare the intern a little. She seemed uncomfortable with his toolkit and everyone could use at least one skeleton in the closet. Instead he went to the last place that he had seen Razza. She seemed to have some information about the place that they were heading. He wanted to be ready for what ever it was when they got their and picking her brain a little would help with that. Long as she didn't break out of her muzzle and she ended up being the one picking things out of her teeth. Once he did manage to track her down he would give a curt wave before speaking. "Do you have a free second Razza? I heard you may know some stuff about our destination and was hoping to learn up on them. Do you think they will have issue with toolkit?" He had managed to teach the mindless thing to bow when ever it heard it's name, something that he took a bit of pride in.

Opal proceeds to free the pitborn, but partway through she stops momentarily Hello, I am Opal. She finishes the job.
A day yet? Do we have rooms?

Mercer scratched at the back of his head. "Suppose we have enough time to rest, for now." He said. "Might as well waitt in you cabins while the autopilot drifts us over to Cheliax."

Razza stretched her jaw, her jagged teeth in full view of all now that they were free. Satisfied, she shot a toothy grin Opal's way. "Ha! Not scared of anything, are ya? I respect that. We should get along just fine. Name's Razza, by the way." She seized Opal's hand in a vicegrip handshake, squeezing hard just to see if she'd flinch (1d20 + 4 ⇒ (7) + 4 = 11 opposed strength check?).

Razza turned to Ludvic, pondering the question sincerely. "Hmm... Hard to say. The Chelish like to keep up appearances and a spooky skeleton is one hell of an appearance. I doubt they'll care too much so long as you're doing a job though. Just don't expect the bag of bones to get invited to any dinner parties."

Edit: Opposed strength check?: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (14) + 3 = 17

Opal stays serene in the face of vice grip shakes, seeming as passive as before. Yet she seemed to unconsciously dig her claws into Razza's hand as the two competed. I do have fear. I merely strive to control my emotions to the best of my abilities. I trust it was no mistake on my part to do this?

Without turning to her captain. Excellent. Are there any further security matters you wish me to attend to? Opal stated plainly.

Edit x2: reformatting.

He will rub the back of his elongated head for a second and nod. "I've never understood it myself but you are right. I guess he is a bit spooky. Give me a moment, maybe I can fix that. Ludvick left the room for about five minutes before he came back with a small set of chalk. He gets to work on the skeleton, drawing large fake eyes in it's empty eye sockets and adding a bit of pink to it's cheek bones. He takes a step back and eyes the little art project before shrugging. "Any less spooky? Thank you for the information as well. I might just have to dress him up as a servant again. Add a bit of stuffing as well to fill in the loose bits. I'll be in my cabin then unless anything comes up. By the way Mercer you think this is going to get violent when we land? I need a heads up so I have enough supplies to remove the smell from the bodies. He did have a tendency to make any bodies left behind disappear. No matter the answer he and his skeleton would head back to his room after.

Just as she was about to put the tools away Fraejia's attention was caught by the discussions of Cheliax. She stopped and returned as she asked, "What is this place you call Cheliax, what can you tell me of it?" While she listened she did her best to ignore Toolbox and Ludvic's attempts to better disguise the walking bones.

"Nothing security-wise." He said. "I'd check up on Jei and Roddick in the Galley, though. Just to make sure we've got eyes on everyone."
Mercer stared blank-faced at the made-up skeleton. "Won't be too violent, I hope. Chelaxians are none too fond of Tieflings, though, but it shouldn't be too much of a problem. Worse thing will be a few dirty stares. I'm going to have to send someone along with Razza of course, to make sure she doesn't get away while we get our supplies."
"Cheiliax is one of those planets, if you know what I mean. It's the center of a thirty system wide empire, and growing, owing their succes to deals made with the Plane of Hell." He shuddered. "Their current ruler, Abrogail Thrune, is just the latest in a long line of Thrunes on the throne. It was her family's doing, that deal. She might be the nastiest ruler they've ever had, though. Especially with her judicious use of the Hellknights."

"She might be the nastiest ruler they've ever had, though. Especially with her judicious use of the Hellknights."

The Thrune dynasty had been known to Ellion during his last wake, but her soldiers were another story. He cast his long, platinum hair behind his shoulders.

"Hellknights? They are some special force of hers?"

Given the disposition the captain seemed to have for them, this must have been a crucial junction in the ship's venture for him not to avert it.

Though it was Mercer who was asked the question, Fraejia was the recipient of the elf's gaze. It seems I'm not the only one in the dark here.

"You could say that." Mercer said. "The Hellknights weren't formed as part of the royal family. They were an independent guild formed to keep up their own dogmatic views of law and order under the Chelaxian Empire, and even far beyond. Their reach is far, and their methods violent. They were around for almost a century by now, and Abrogail saw their potential and formed an unholy alliance of sorts. But... as long as we don't so much as look at one of their laws the wrong way, we should be fine. Gotta be careful, though. They see everything."

Opal turns to her crewmate. I believe we will likely be grouped as a pair by the local populace, Razza. We should stay together. Must remember eye contact. And to blink. Staring is rude, but not looking long enough is as well. Why must people be so difficult? Now I must stay on my toes? I hope this one can speak for the two of us.

Razza winced slightly at Opal's returned grip, just managing to turn the look into a grin. "You're right on that count, Opal. Chelish don't think too highly of anyone other than one of their own, especially if they aren't human. Just let 'em believe you're a brainless grunt there to get paid and nothing else and nobody will question it."

Razza had always had a knack for reading a crowd and adjusting her actions to suit it. She had infiltrated some high-class joints with the help of a disguise spell and become the life of the party when nobody had known her a few minutes before, but she was just as adept at shoving her identity to the back of people's minds as someone unimportant and not worth a second glance. Both skills had proven useful in her old life and she doubted her new one would be any different.

"If they're that meticulous, I suppose I should go read-up on their laws. Your ship has a reference for them somewhere, I presume?"

It seems they like to exploit technicalities. Let's not give them any.

"You can access them on the ship's computer, or any personal datapad, though the StarNet connection is a bit spotty, and the antenna's acting fuzzy. I think-"
His wrist buzzed. "That's odd..." He said, taking a quick run to the cockpit, searching out the window, a lightless ship drifting in space. Mercer punched in a few keys on the copilot's terminal. "No life." He said. "But a faint magical presence. Could be valuable. Someone, stop the ship. Then you guys." He said, pointing to the men and women in his presence. "Earn your fare here and put on some containment suits and search it."

Yay. I made a friend. Her calm, unperturbed speech continues.

Opal bows her head slightly at the captains orders. As she walks to the suits, a faint clacking sound rings through the hold as her hooves clank against the metal floor. She gets most of the suit on, but stops at the helmet. She has had some difficulties with helmets in her experience. Specifically, horns have a habit of puncturing them if they're flimsy, and not fitting at all if the material is strong. After a few moments of fighting with the helmet to no avail.

...This... will not work. Does anyone have a knife?

Neve turns the autopilot off and brings the ship to a halt and gives the Captain a look I do this and I want a promotion. No more intern stuff. Full crew member.

Ludvic had just been heading to the room when he heard the captins orders. He turns on his heel and walks back over to the meeting area. "Maybe it will be something neat at least. I won't lie, I've been bored with nothing to tinker with. " He heads over to get suited up, thankfully having a helmet fitted to his larger head. He grabs a knife from toolkit and hands it to Opal. "here you go. Just put it back when you are done with it on the hook. I'm leaving tool kit here. He would check his spell component and then line up near the docking door.

Fraejia was jarred out of heading to her quarters by this sudden discovery and said, "Something new, excellent, can you tell if the ship is holding atmosphere or not?"

Asking because if it is only lack of air that's the problem Fraejia can simply put on a breather and survive being immune to the cold. Not sure how you handle the dangers of vacuum exposure and I couldn't seen to dig up any info that helped understand it. As far as it goes no one knows she's immune to cold yet, now would be a fun time to find out.

Thank you. Opal begins to saw through her horns carefully with the knife. She cuts them flat and close to her head. The process takes a while.

Razza wished she had realized what Opal was doing before she started cutting off her horns. The Pitborn watched, horrified, stunned into silence by the visage before her as those beautiful symbols of ferocity were cut away one by one.

"Opal, what the fuuuu... S*+@, you're using the cap's equipment aren't you? If I had known it would be an issue I would have offered one of my spare helmets." Razza demonstrated, putting her helmet on; the material instantly flexed to fit comfortably over Razza's nubby horns. "These helmets are Pitborn-built with the horned space pirate in mind, one-size-fit-all. They'd do just fine, even for that elaborate set you're rocking. Well, something to keep in mind when they grow back, I guess... They do grow back, right? Right!?!?"

I do not understand your concern. I assure you the horns grow back regardless of whether I want them to. Your helmets do look nice.

She stops for a moment to consider her options. On the one hand, she was through with two out of four horns already, both on the same side due to their weaving betwixt one another. This left things aesthetically displeasing. On the other hand her new friend seemed very worried about this process.

What do you think I should do? Opal asks.

A containment suit would be the most clothes Ellion had been in quite some time, but he was not opposed to it in this case; rather, it would allow him to investigate the unknown and learn something new.

After fiddling with the mechanisms on the suit to wear in properly, he inquired of Ludvic, seemingly knowledgeable in the mechanical realm: "Should we bring a set of tools? There may be prying and the like to do."

"Hrm... Well, if it doesn't bother you it's fine, I guess. Just, where I come from, cuttin' off your horns is like... well, it isn't done. Someone might lose a horn in a fight and that's dandy and all, makes for a good story, but cutting 'em off on your own? Wouldn't even think of it." Razza crossed her arms, displeasure obvious on her face.

"But hell, if it doesn't bother you it won't bother me. I'd rather have a couple asymmetric horns than four nubs where horns are supposed to be, but if YOU think it looks bad that's all that matters. Do whatever makes you feel good about you, that's the way to live." Razza nodded to herself, satisfied as if she had said something incredibly deep and compelling.

He would scratch the back of his head slightly before nodding. "You may have a point. Better safe then sorry after all." Walking back to fetch toolkit from where he left it, he will stop to look at Opal. "Do something with your hair? I have heard that asymmetry is very popular in some cultures. Always enjoyed symmetrical designs myself." He gives toolkit a quick command to follow before he walks back to the boarding door. "Lets just hope that all of the defense systems are deactivated. I don't have anything prepared to deal with non-living creatures right now.

Of course. I'm out here to make my own decisions after all. Opal stops sawing for a moment. She decides to readjust her efforts on the last two horns. She still cuts them short, but down to a point at her head, taking care as she does so.

There. Now I will file the left two when they come back. May I have your spare helmet? She asks Razza, disposing of her horns as she does so.

Watching the odd couple of Opal and Razza exchange their views about horns, Ellion was reminded of his preference for leaving things as they naturally were. He felt a bit bad about the horn adjustments, but they seemed to be necessary in the current situation.

I prefer symmetry, myself, were such a choice presented.

"May I borrow one of ... Toolkit's? tools? No sense in bringing more than we need, and I'd rather not waste the time going to find some."

Ellion looked for a piece of metal he could leverage open crates or doors with - perhaps the ancient but memorable crowbar if such a version was around today.

Razza spends a moment examining Opal's handiwork before nodding in approval. "Lookin' good, pal! Never would have thought of pruning your horns, but you might be onto something." She hands over her spare helmet, still wearing her toothy grin. "Don't worry about paying me back for this or anything, I've got plenty. Consider it a gift."

"Yeah you can borrow a anything from toolkit. Upon seeing him grab the crowbar he smiles."I'm not sure if they had this saying when you were young but the more things change the more they stay the same. A little leverage still can work wonders." He says before he looks over to see Opal getting rid of her cut off horns. He quickly moves over to to grab them after she had thrown them away. "If you are just going to throw them away mind if I have them? I might find a use for these horns. Kinda wanna see if I can graft them to something. He smiles at her, hoping for permission.

"Shame to see you file off your horns. They make ya unique. How long do they take to grow back?"
He sighed at Neve. "Fine, fine. Would you like a title with that, too?"
"The scanners say that about 75% of the ship is missing it's artificial atmosphere. The gravity is working, barely. You should be safe as long as you keep the suits on."
"By all means, Elion, bring your tools. The old engineer took his plasma-cutter with him when he left, so any locks might have to be handled manually."
He moved to the controls, clumsily aligning the Scythe with the empty ship's docking bay.
"Aaaaand... there. Tube's up. Ready for boarding."

Freajia nodded at the answer and put the suit on, a rather uncomfortable thing, and found herself wishing she were old enough that such things as this weren't needed any longer. Her suit ready a slight effort of thought on her part and a circular patch of ice about a foot across formed and floated around her body. Her minimal preparations ready and a toolkit attached to her suit she said, "Let's do this."

My Ice Shroud (reflavored shroud of water) is set to shield mode, just in case, granting a +3 shield bonus to AC.

"If you are just going to throw them away mind if I have them? I might find a use for these horns. Kinda wanna see if I can graft them to something. He smiles at her, hoping for permission.

Your overwhelming desire to make use of someones filed off body parts is curious. Opal looks at the discarded items. What could he use them for?

If it will help, yes you may. Do you always ask permission?

She answers each person without looking directly at them. Thank you, Razza, I appreciate your help.

I did intend to trim them by now. It is something I have a habit of putting off, I suppose. The horns will come back in due time. It seems they grow only somewhat slower than hair.

It was a little uncomfortable trying to fit her heavy dull gray robes under the suit, but she managed eventually. It ended up surprisingly form-fitting. Only now did it become apparent where Opal inherited her mothers "features". Yet, her digitigrade legs still did not quite fit properly in the containment suit. Remembering how the last adventure adjusting to a suit went, she decides to simply make due and get ready for departure.

Hope he asks permission. Not doing so would be, like, criminal Neve mutters before speaking louder. Alright, Navigator and Pilot Neve Aurora ready to board creepy vessel. The points look way cool Opal. Since they grow back fast you could do a hekuva lot of fashion with your horns. Just sayin'

"Well it's only polite to ask after all. I'll take curious to. Been called much worse things then curious. I try my best to ask for permission though yes. Consent is important in experimentation. Well, at least if your trying to stay out of trouble. I thank you none the less."He slips them into his back pack and walks over to the door, stretching his arms out a bit as he does so. "Well maybe we will get lucky and it's a ghost ship! It was unclear what he meant by that as he started to walk through the tube towards the vessel.

Razza rolls her eyes at Ludvic's query but says nothing; humans always have weird ideas of what they could do with someone else's horns. Once, while disguised, Razza had been offered powdered Pitborn horns, with the promise that spicing your meat with it would make you stronger and tougher.

She killed him, of course. Whatever he did to get the stuff was certainly worthy of execution.

"All right, time to head out to the spooky ghost ship and loot some remains. Maybe some crew members will animate as zombies, that's always a fun time." With only genuine excitement in her voice, she happily takes the lead in the tube.

Inside the ship, only one light flickers in the entryway. The hall bifurcates, but leads to the same living quarters. Ten men and women lie stiff and pale, fallen against the table and sprawled against the floor in a desperate attempt to escape a death by decompression and suffocation.

Ludvic has a hard time containing himself when he see's the various dead bodies "Well this is already turning out to be pretty lucrative. Toolkit, drag. He points to the bodies and then down the tube to make sure the undead knew what to do. He would begin to go through the living quarter for anything of value. He had survived be scavenging when he first headed into space and his skills still served him well.
perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5
He will also bring up detect magic.

Fraejia was rather disturbed at Ludvic's reaction, and even more worried when he wanted to bring the corpses on board. She spoke up and said, "Ludvic, it might be best to check them for disease first. It wouldn't do to bring illness on board the ship." Having said her piece she looked to Razza and Opal and Nevve and said, "Shall we go explore the place ladies? I'm curious as to what happened here."