Jelani's Colonization:Aspis Rising (Inactive)

Game Master Brian Minhinnick

I'm fine with a fast-forward. Assume Penance is working on the funeral side of things, seeing to the men, etc, and mostly staying out of the negotiations since a) he doesn't speak Goblin, and b) all he really wants to do is throttle the prisoners. He's letting cooler heads prevail and all that. HP-wise, Penance is still very hurt, but he's not going to sleep until dawn means more eyes can keep watch.

Penance gives Telemakos a grunt and a nod at seeing him. He has no awareness that it was the gnome's spell that technically brought him back to life, but he has vague memories of hearing the high-pitched voice just before that pit had opened in front of him.

"Wanna hear somethin' funny?" he asks Telemakos as he unstraps his shovel from his big pile of gear.

With Emerion taking up the translator's duty from him, Corridan politely excuses himself. "If it is all the same to you, I believe I will go seek someone with some healing skills to take a look at my wounds," he says softly, though not without wincing. "And perhaps also find some clothes that are not quite so ruinded," he adds with a little chuckle.

As he starts walking away, he turns his head back. "But do tell when the Khaan arrives. I would be very interested in being present during that meeting, I do admit."

"Wanna hear somethin' funny?" he asks Telemakos as he unstraps his shovel from his big pile of gear.

“I’m always up for something funny!” exclaims Telemakos “Though the surroundings are quite grim,” and he points at a couple of mercenaries trying to get the armor on a hobgoblin al-most into rigor mortis “it is goods to see that you have not lost your light-hearted side! Please, tell away!”

Telemakos seriously expects a funny anecdote now, and watches Penance with anticipation.

Devram watches the end of the interrogation mostly in silence. He stands when he hears about their chief coming for them. As the group breaks up, he sees that the prisoners are bound and when he's satisfied, posts a guard. "I think they'll cooperate, but raise the alarm if not. If they make trouble I'm not above giving their heads to this Khaan"

Coates looks for Penance, but find the man directing burials. He simply shakes his head and goes to find some sleep before he drops from exhaustion.

Penance smiles humorlessly. "Well," he says as he looks around in the dirt-- not sand, he doesn't want his own men buried in the sand either, "when you opened that pit up before me, I thought it was Abadar's doing. See, I was praying pretty hard for some deliverance just then, and then-- BAM-- the earth just rips open to swallow my enemies. Figures it was just you. Bet you've never been mistaken for a god before, eh?" he says with a big grin at the gnome, blood still smeared on his face.

" 'Course, a few moments later, they cut down Georg," he nudges the dead half-orc's body with a toe, "--and a bit after that, they dropped me, so. So much for divine f&##in' deliverance."

The night wears quickly on, and the general consensus is reached amongst the Agents that there's not much to do besides wait for the Khaan to arrive, and prepare for his arrival in the meantime. Torches are lit, guards put back on duty and everyone else returns to a night of uneasy sleep.

<< Base Camp, The Island | 06:30 | Hot 72° F | Lamashan 11th, 4713 AR >>

The sun rises several hours later, and as of yet there is no sign of the Khaan.

You don't really know exactly when the Khaan is going to arrive (no one has a clock and the hobgoblins can't say 100% for sure, but they say it should be today). The sailors are set to digging graves for the fallen mercenaries and the hobgoblins. What are you instructing the mercenaries to do to prepare? Continue working on the palisade? Dig more trenches? Something else? Are any of you making preparations in the morning, other than just waiting around?

Telemakos’ smile fades as Penance’s tale take a turn for the dark as he mentions the death of Georg and his following misfortune “Well, yes, I… heh, he he, quite… quite funny, never quite been mistaken for a God before. He he.” he bites his tongue “I guess… I guess in the end Abadar was looking after you, wasn’t so? You… I mean, it’s terrible what happened to Gregor and the other mercenaries, but you... you survived…”

* * *

After sleeping, Telemakos will work with the lizards to understand what tricks they know and if they can be further trained (if there's time, taking 20 on handle animal, otherwise taking 10). The mercenaries and slaves should work on the trenches and palisade (if possible, making it movable so that it can be used in a more permanent camp).

Unless needed for something Emerion will prepare his spells as usual and make simple traps with a scroll or two thrown in. Let me know if you need any rolls.

Devram rolls over in his tent, happy that he wasn't awaken by shouts this time. He lays in his tent for a while feeling the lost sleep during the night as his own wounds. Finally, he rouses himself and steps out to try and stretch aching muscles. With the coming heat and knowing he will need to work on the camp, he forgoes his armor again and even strips off his shirt. The Aldori paces through the camp to check on the prisoners before starting his morning sword forms.

"How are the prisoners? Did they cause any trouble last night?" His eyes flit to the human guard, but move quickly back to the natives. "When breakfast is made, have someone fetch them some. Half rations."

Unless the guards alert him to anything, he moves off a bit to begin his sword practice.

The lizards have the combat training purpose, and cannot learn any more tricks unless one were to become an animal companion somehow.

Emerion, if you're making traps please be as specific as possible about what and where they are, then I'll tell you what you need to roll (if anything).

The mercenaries watching the tent with the prisoners report that they caused no trouble during the night.

What time is not spent studying her craft is instead devoted to making her tent as regal and accommodating as possible. Drapes are hung from various positions, rugs drawn out over the floor. The central area of the pavilion is left as open as possible, save for the firepit in the center. Shinjuko's servants relocate the majority of her effects not in current use to another stockpile of the camp's—separate from the rest, but in the vicinity.

After a time, she emerges from her tent to seek out Penance and Master Nimlaidas, extending an offer to share in breakfast while the matters that face them can be discussed. Still viewing Penance as the de facto leader of the group, and Emerion still as the only means of communication with the strange hobgoblin natives, she hopes to settle what will be done with the possible and imminent arrival of their prisoner's king.

Assuming no one refuses the breakfast invitation:

Shinjuko chooses well the location for the meal: a well shaded patch of ground just beyond the sand beneath a small thicket of palm trees. It affords a pleasant view of the natural bay that serves as home to their current campsite. Perhaps more importantly, it affords the greatest shelter from the sun's assault short of entering into the jungle itself.

"As we are all well aware by now, the leader of these well armored natives could be upon us with numbers exceeding that of those that assaulted us the night prior. It is a... unique opportunity." Shinjuko withdraws an arm from her fare to gesture towards the picturesque waters that stretch out beyond towards the fog-shrouded horizon. "Our foothold is not secure. Strength and defiance, no matter how tenacious, will ultimately be toppled by the unceasing press of the tide. The waves will not relent for so long as one's path is in direct opposition."

Her eyes flash towards the tent of prisoners. "We have two options that need not be voiced, but I shall do so all the same. We can struggle against the current—against those who have lived here likely for centuries upon centuries—or we can align our course with their tide. There has been reached a point of agreement, tenuous though it might be. Honoring their dead is an admirable start, and the possibility of economic boons to one another has been broached. This not mean we should not look to our defenses, of course, only that we should not seek to instigate further violence between our groups." Once more the pale skinned young woman gestures, this time towards her tent. "I have prepared my own tent to receive their leader or delegates, should such a development come to pass. From what little they have displayed thus far, these hobgoblins seem to have some concept of honor and respect. A little pomp for any who should deign to speak for them could go a long way towards assuaging our initial violence."

Considering our location and resources, just simple pit traps with wooden spikes. About twenty feet from the outer defenses on the left and right side.

Emerion remains silent during the speech until it is done.

"It is not my way to make war, frankly it is the tool of a fool in my eyes. I have dealt with many groups, organizations, and people who others would consider unreasonable. In my experience it is a lack of objectivity and understanding on one's part that dooms any attempt. These hobgoblins may be different but I would hardly consider them unique considering their race, if anything they are more reasonable then the hobgoblins of our own lands. As long as we take their custom and culture into account their is no reason why we can not come to an understanding if not alliance."

Considering something for a moment he continues.

"Yet I would agree we should tend to our own defenses and self sustainability. A good neighbor does not mean they are a good friend as the saying goes. I have no doubt that if we prove weak or if they get it into their heads we can be overcome that they will make the attempt. If nothing else we are collecting much needed information. We have already learned of other groups and dangers that could be of use to us."

"That's right," Penance with a big, humorless, fanged grin at the gnome. "I survived. Abadar really likes me.

"And his name was Georg. Man's dead, get it right. Write it down if you have to."

***

Penance comes to breakfast, even if he still feels dead tired and sore in every bone in his body. He sits a little awkwardly on the grass next to the graceful Tien woman and the wizard.

He listens to all the talk about waves and all with his heavy brows knit together, yellow eyes looking from Shinjuko to Nimlaidas, back again. He eats slowly, doing his best to not just wolf down food as if he were in a mess hall, since the Tien's all civilized and such.

His mouth twists in a bit of cynical amusement at Nimlaidas's assertion that simply operating from a position of understanding will win the day, but he doesn't argue the point, either.

When Emerion finishes, Penance clears his throat.

"My father always said that responsible faith meant praying for the best from Abadar, but preparing for the worst," he says with the hint of darkly amused smile still lurking at the corners of his mouth. He kind of wonders sometimes if Kinjar had been prepared for his slave-girl to knife him in the throat.

"If you two are trying to talk me out of going on a warpath against these bastards, rest easy. I'm too g!+@%#n sore for a warpath. If we can treat with 'em, let's treat. Even if it only buys us time, I'll take it. Another raid like last night will more'n likely wipe us right out."

He stuffs a bit of food into his mouth, chews, opens his mouth to say something else-- no, wait, swallow first, that's what you do when you're all civilized and all-- swallows, then tries again.

"I can play nice. If I've got a reason. Us not dying to a man is a damned good reason."

The half-orc rubs at one sore shoulder. "From what I've heard from all the talk, they're proud of their damned seashell armor. They trade it around locally. Well, we can offer 'em a bigger market-- a whole world. Right? We gotta figure what the currency is-- maybe gold coins mean h@@~~++%& to 'em, maybe they do all their trade by barter. Did the prisoners talk at all about that?

"And as for giving these sonsof--" he glances at Shinjuko, "...camels... giving them those gun things: hell, if that's all they'll take we may not have a choice, but I'm not keen on promising them the weapons to really turn around and kill us. I've seen what Iliante can do with one of those things. Imagining those guys we fought last night with a whole bunch? Abadar himself couldn't save our asses."

Devram finishes his forms drenched in sweat. He could tell the practice was paying off though. He movements were sharper and more precise than ever. The Dueling Sword felt like a part of his arm and withi Artuso's training, it was only the most deadly part of an entire body of weapons. He finishes with a full speed flourish that turns quite a few heads from those around him. Quite satisfied, he walks back over to the prisoners, finding them eating some bread and cheese. "Good. We can't have these bastards starving on us, but I also don't want them wasting all our supplies. Already that food was means for the ones they killed last night." He shakes his head, and looks up at the guard he spoke to earlier who seemed to be in command.

"What's your name again? Wilhelm? Funny ass name, but ok. Wilhelm, you're officially in charge of the prisoner guard. Pull the men you need, but I want them alert and awake. Lest you think you're getting light duty, remember that if these bastards get free, you're probably the first ones they kill." He shrugs nonchalantly. Then, watching the hobgoblins eat, he has a thought. "You know, I'll send Nim or Corridan over again. These bastards gotta know about how to survive on the island. We need to question them about game and fruits that are safe to eat."

He turns as a commotion erupts from the center of the camp. Cursing, Devram leave Wilhelm to it and hustles over to find out what it is. He breathing ragged from the morning workout and the running when he nears Khanjar's tent. He raises a handkerchief to cover his coughing as he pushes people aside. There in the middle is the Hobgoblin Agent's body with his throat slit wide open. A bloody knife is dropped nearby and Devram hears someone say they last saw one of Khanjar's slaves using it to prepare some food for her master. F**#ing beautiful, just f&~%ing beautiful.

"Find the slave! And someone get this mess cleaned up. He shakes his head. It looked like the Hobgoblin was trying to exit the tent. She must have taken advantage of the chaos last night to kill him. Devram doubted they would find any sign of her in the camp. If she did this, likely she fled the camp in the night. He hadn't liked the Slaver, but they would have to execute her if they found her.

Just another beautiful morning for the Aspis Consortium. Devram shakes his head again and goes to find his own breakfast.

He ignores a number of things he disagreed with but their was one he had to correct.

"Giving them firearms is harmless, they do not have the ability to create the ammo or even maintain the firearms. Both the knowledge of their use and service will be bargaining chips. As to ammunition, we will control the amount sold. We simple make it clear that it is a long process to obtain or place a high price on it. Ether will restrict their ability to make extensive use of them. Their is after all a reason why not every man and woman here has one on their belt. If such was the case I doubt so many lives would have been lost on our side."

If the hobgoblins ever did find a way on their own to mass produce firearms and ammunition, the consortium would send a mercenary army for that knowledge alone. Anyways their were always those who paid for the rarity and prestige of an item rather then it's innate use. A bottle of glorified grape juice could buy a village to the right buyer.

Penance only grunts at Nim's words. He doesn't think it'll be as simple as the wizard seems to think, but he's not an expert on guns and can't say for certainty that his fears will come to pass.

"If that's all we've got to talk about," he says, more to Shinjuko than to Nimlaidas, "I'm going to see to those of ours who're still injured. And try to buff up my armor for big master Khaan's visit."

Okay, so the fight ended around midnight. If everyone was to get eight hours of rest, that puts this breakfast at 08:30 at the earliest. You can continue RPing, but once you're finished please give me an action plan up to the afternoon.

Digging pit traps in the sand is nearly impossible Emerion, the sand just falls back into the pit.

One awesome die* to anyone who goes back and finds how many hours of work there were left on the palisade (I'm too lazy).

* Awesome dice are d6s that you can add to any one d20 roll, at any time, with an immediate action (including after its been rolled). No more than one awesome dice may be added to any one roll. I will hand them out for doing things that are awesome.

20 hours was needed to complete the palisade. You updated to 15 hours left at 12:15, the attack came at 00:00. So I think 3 hours left to complete. Page 8 had the last update and Page 10 had the attack start.

At 72 F, it seems we probably want to bury everyone's bodies before stink becomes an issue, rather than waiting for the Khaan. So, in the hours leading up to whenever-he-gets-there, Penance will see to it that burials in regular earth are conducted, for our men and theirs, and that at least one of the prisoners is there to witness that proper dignity is being given to their dead. Within reason. As far as I know, the plan is to bury them in their armor, but not with their weapons, unless the prisoners make a big stink about that.

Beyond that, Penance will treat injuries sustained in the battle, and in overseeing the construction. He will ask Telemakos if he has anything that stay up high and watch for anyone approaching, which, I think Arasmes can do now, if Telemakos is willing to do that. That should at least let us know when the Khaan is a little closer.

When the Khaan is spotted, Penance will try and position himself in a central/visible position, armor cleaned up, trying to Look the Part. Hopefully with Nim around to actually convey greetings and so forth. :P

Gathering as many injured as he possibly can fit into a 30-foot circle around him, both PCs and injured sailors/soldiers/slaves etc:

"Abadar," Penance rumbles, holding his key aloft, "we have lost many of our brothers and sisters here already. We have made a sacrifice in this enterprise, and we ask now that you honor it, and guide us to wise decisions... let the lord of the vault lead us to prosperity and dividends, and a thriving new home here, where we may remember those who have already fallen."

To Penance's own ears, it sounds like b#&%*!$!, but it steals a lot of the phrases his father used to say and he thinks it might be good for morale, or something. ...The healing is probably better for the morale.

Channel: 3d6 ⇒ (3, 2, 1) = 6

(6 back to any injured PCs, and to NPCs as well)

He's still full of aches himself, and once he's dismissed the gathered men, spends a little more time getting in touch with god, so to speak.

Loh 3: 3d6 ⇒ (2, 2, 3) = 7
Loh 4: 3d6 ⇒ (2, 2, 6) = 10

Penance's HP is 34/39 after that. Going to leave him there for now, with one LOH left, and a CLW, in case of emergency.

Iliante thanks Penance for the channel and heads toward the bay, "I'm going to give the bay another once over."

The Undine dives into the water and enjoys the warm cleansing feeling that flushes through him. He swims around the bay looking for anything out of the ordinary.

Then, he suddenly gets an idea that he never would have thought about when he served aboard ship. He looks for a shelter underwater. At least for himself, if this mission gets overrun by those armored hobgoblins, he'll have a secure place to sleep.

Perception take 20+10=30 +Water Sense 30 ft.
He swaps his revolver with his crossbow before the swim.

The bay remains unchanged. There are many coral reefs that would serve for shelter.

Following breakfast, Shinjuko decides to strike out into the jungle once more, albeit briefly. She maintains a close perimeter to the camp itself, holding to a slow and steady pace as she studies the surroundings and attempts to familiarize herself with the lay of the land. She brings with her a pack containing her mapmaking kit and survival kit, intent on getting an early, if lacking, start on mapping the area immediately surrounding their landing site.

Shinjuko sticks to the shelter of large trees and thickets as she makes her way, wary for the possibility of hobgoblin scouts or visitors from any of the various other factions their prisoners had mentioned.

______________________________

Not using it for its intended purpose per se, as it's hard to get lost when you can still hear and see where you began. Still, having a basic idea of the beginnings of a map surrounding the campsite couldn't hurt, and Shinjuko's got a few hours to kill.

Stealth: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (13) + 10 = 23
Perception: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (10) + 10 = 20

It's basically just virgin jungle, totally overgrown except for animal trails. Somewhat hilly leading into the mountains to the west and north. I don't have a formal map, but now Shinjuko does.

“I… uh, I’m just about to admit my ignorance in matter of warfare, but isn’t the very purpose of a gun that of making an enemy’s armor useless?” asks Telemakos at breakfast. “Since these people feels such a pride, almost a worship for their armors, it is safe to say that guns should be presented in a different light to them than just a common weapon… am I the only one feeling so?”

* * *

After breakfast, Telemakos works with the lizards, learning the aforementioned facts about their training. He really isn’t of any help in building traps , but when Penance, asks, he happily sends Arasmes as a flying watch “Now ‘Ras, you never flew so high, so beware, you risk...”
“Oh Master, oh for the Seven Sandstorms of Serithea, I’m so happy you’re learning all these new things! Look how high I can fly now whoooo!” and the genie flies up in the air, with considerable clumsiness.
“Just keep an eye on the surroundings, you dolt! And don’t crash into any tree, and oh for Nethys’s sake! Don’t bother those parrots!” Telemakos grabs his face in his tiny hands He is going to make an enemy of every bird in the sky, I just know it…

He then turns to Penance “If… if what I gathered from the lizards is correct, it is more than likely that this… Khaan, I guess we are calling him so arent' we? He will arrive undetected from a bird’s view. He will most likely ride a lizard through the canopy, they can jump from branch to branch in what seems to be a most efficient way of crossing this thick, thick jungle… they can be useful to our troops for exploration, but the fact that they turned on their former master so quickly makes me doubt about their usefulness as war mount. Fascintagin creatures, still, clearly a nice, well-rounded product of evolution in this environment, I think...” and then he goes on and on in a tedious zoological speech about reptiles and so on.

Sense traps are a bust, I guess he will just keep on cataloging. If Telemakos is willing to share his aerial info he could start making a detailed map of the region. He certainly making one of the surrounding area with all that cataloging. Here be blood sucking purple vines. There be butt traps that snap on to the source of foul poo, herbivores are normally immune to their danger. ;)

Telemakos already shared everything, he even drew a map with Penance's tools.

Take your awesome die Emerion. There were 15 hours left to finish the palisade. Assuming the mercs set to work at dawn, they will get in a full eight hours of work before the Khaan arrives. Leaving seven more hours to complete it.

<< Base Camp, The Island | 15:00 | Hot 83° F | Lamashan 11th, 4713 AR >>

The morning and early afternoon pass quickly with preparations being made for the Khaan's arrival. The mercenaries manage to get the basic structure of the palisade complete, surrounding the whole camp. The have begun to add upright timbers to make a proper wall, but the work won't be finished for another day.

The prisoners are armored, but left weaponless and bound. They are transferred to a tent close to the tree line, to make them easy to present to the Khaan. Shinjuko's tent is prepared as a meeting place. Penance, Emerion and Corridan make themselves ready to receive the Khaan as well. The hobgoblin prisoners advise them that a red flag should be shown to ask for truce. A suitable piece of cloth is procured and tied to a long branch.

Finally, in the hottest part of the day, there is a loud rustling noise heard by everyone in the camp. It's coming from the forest. Soon the trees nearest the edge are shaking,and then a moment later dozens of riding lizards and the hobgoblin warriors riding them come leaping out of the trees to land on the beach. They form up into four units of ten, each lead by hobgoblins with plumes in their helmets. Three of the groups have both a green plumed leader, and a red plumed leader with significantly more feathers. The fourth and lead group is lead by a warrior with green, red and purple plumes decorating his helm. He's huge, and his lizard is the largest and strongest looking of the bunch. The Khaan.

Penance waves the red flag from behind the palisade, and the Khaan holds up one hand. Dozens of hands reaching for arrows stop in mid movement. He whistles shrilly and the red plumed riders move forward to join him. Together they ride towards the camp, their hands held up where they can easily be seen.

The Khaan motions for them to stop twenty feet from the barrier. "Yog vim li cas kuv yuav tsum tau kho nrog koj?" he shouts loudly enough to be clearly heard, towards Penance. The warriors have their helmets on, so their expressions aren't visible.

(presuming Nim translates)

Penance lowers the flag and rests his hands on the crosspiece of his greatsword. He listens to Emerion's translation, then murmurs back, "Say...

"Say 'Because many gains over a long time are better than one gain now. And because a good leader does not waste the lives of his brave warriors.'

"...and whatever else you wanna throw in there to make it fancy, I guess," he sticks on.

Emerion was a little glad they did not understand Penance. Being blunt was dangerous as was the manner of it in such talks to him. Calling to unbind Hyuktaar, he had the hobgoblin brought forward. Giving a slight bow before speaking.

He let his words sink in for a moment before speaking once more.

Diplomacy: 1d20 + 15 ⇒ (17) + 15 = 32

Glad I did not have to use that awesome die so quickly.

Hyuktaar calls out, "Nws yog qhov tseeb, au Great Ib. Tab sis yog lawv paub tsis muaj dab tsi, lawv tau ua raws li peb cov kev lis kev cai. Peb cov kwv tij yog cov tam sim no nrog Vajtswv nyob rau hauv raws li rau peb txoj kev. Kuv beg koj, tuaj Great Ib, thiab hnov lawv cov lus."

The Khaan sits silently for a few moments before he suddenly dismounts from his lizard. He motions his lieutenants down as well, and together they stride to the opening in the wooden barrier, and to the Consortium delegation waiting for them.

"Raug nplua, liab ntawm daim tawv nqaij, kuv yuav hnov ​​koj cov lus. Coj kuv mus rau koj lub 'tsev ntaub'," the Khaan says to Emerion. He waits for the wizard to lead the way and then follows behind him. The lieutenants do the same.

Once they get to the tent the hobgoblins remove their helmets before entering. The right side of the Khaan's face is covered in the decorative scarring of his people. His right ear is lined with small iron rings, and he has the same ring through his septum as the others. He has two iron spikes pierced through his upper lip like miniature tusks, and there is a chain with small medallions dangling from it running from the left side of his nose to his left earlobe. He has a strange beard consisting of two dangling parts and a soul patch. His armor is covered in the same mixture of crustacean, insectoid and cephalopodic imagery as the others. The lieutenants show little visual difference from the prisoners, aside from having earrings in their left ears in addition to their septum rings.

The four hobgoblin leaders incline their heads to whoever appears to be in control of the tent as they enter (presumably Shinjuko). They sit down cross legged and seem to be waiting for something.

Hyuktaar whispers to Emerion, "Koj yuav tsum muaj lawv cov khoom noj kom ntev lub qhua rite. Yog tsis muaj nws yuav tsis muaj kev ntseeg siab."

Emerion quietly translates to the others with him, sending for food and his stock of various drinks. After a few moments the best fare they can offer is brought, not the best food anyone ever ate but considering things it was a decent meal he supposed. He had Ieliana prepare a number of coffee's, tea, and sampling of alcoholic drinks for their guest to choose from. The good thing was travel had no effect on properly contained drinks and spices. He watches and waits for the Khaan to speak or Hyuktaar to make another suggestion. He sips only on Kahve himself.

The hobgoblin delegation eats the food and tries the drinks. They settle on tea, as it is the least foreign to them. After eating and drinking, the Khaan speaks. "Yog vim li cas muaj koj los rau kuv lub tebchaws? Dab tsi koj xav?"

Emerion puts his cup down carefully before speaking.

"Koj yuav tsis nyob ntawm no. Ua ntej peb yuav ua tau tej yam lag luam koj yuav tsum pom zoo kom koj lub tsev sab nraum peb lub tebchaws," the Khaan replies.

Emerion translates to the others. Then states the issue with the Khaans request.

"That could be a problem as this is the only place we know of that we can dock at. Otherwise I would not object to the request. Perheps we can reach some compromise, our settlement need not be here but we need a landing area. After all we never intended to settle in this spot to begin with."

"They likely have further knowledge of other bays and suitable lands elsewhere, in addition to who might be considered to rule these lands. We might also ask if we could make use of their own harbors on occasion. If we manage to secure some sort of trade agreement with them, surely he could see the reason in such a proposition."

Shinjuko furrows her brows but a hair. "We could also explore the coastlines further ourselves if need be. Though I worry at the danger that might involve, given the problems upon our arrival."

The Khaan waits while the Agents talk amongst themselves.

"I'm sure the Khaan would love to settle us in one of his enemies' lands, but we need a port, preferably a deep water one where the ships can enter. Not like this shallow bay." Iliante offers his two coppers.

You can ask him questions as well as answer his. This is a meeting, not an interrogation. They might know of the presence or lack of bays/harbors or anything else you guys want to know about.

Telemakos gets in Shinjuko’s tent making a big show of having the menacing bulk of Arasmes silently floating right beside him.
“He’s ugly.” whispers the genie.
“Yes, well, he is exot…”
“No but I mean really really ugly. Even for a goblin.”
“’Ras, kindly shut the Nine Hells up.” the gnome sits in a lateral, semi-hidden position, making sure his chances of meeting the Khaan’s eyes are slim. He listens to what Emerion translates I will really need to learn this horrific language. Nethys help me.

When the topic of a new harbor is brought up, Telemakos agrees "Doesn’t seem wise to anger them. Let’s… let’s just ask if we can relocate momentarily. If they know a better harbor for the Naga’s Breath and the Besmara’s Bounty… I mean, of course nothing stops us from using that eventual new base as an outpost to then come back and claim these savages’ lands… because that is what we are doing, right? This-this is how the Consortium operates, I think…?"

Devram, back in his armor, stands outside the tent watching the small force of the native hobgoblins. He can hear the voices inside, but not completely clearly. He looks over the enemy force, watching their stance, the way they handle their mounts, and whether or not they seem itching for a fight. He stands completely in the open, making no attempt to hide his interest.

Watching for anything of interest with their soldiers.
Sense Motive: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13
Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (14) + 9 = 23

Giving a rather cold look to Telemakos at his words he responds.

"The consortium is interested in profit above all, if war is profitable then so be it. Yet if peace if profitable then it is preferred. In my personal experience peace brings far more profit then war ever will. After all the cost in lives has been made clear, can we simply replace what we have lost. How much is your life worth sir Telemakos. I doubt anyone here is foolish enough to think peace will always be an option, yet war is always the last. There is no need for anyone here to prove their aptitude in it. Clearly they are aware of it, so let us continue."

He nods to the others and the Khaan before speaking to him.

Why do I have the sneaking suspicion the genie is going to do something to me later. xD

In the tent with the others, Penance eats some of the food and drinks some of the tea, sitting stiffly upright with his sword sheathed and listening to Emerion's many words in a language he doesn't speak.

His head still throbs from the long night and residual exhaustion. There's a big part of him that just wants to lay waste with the greatsword, pay back in blood for everything that had happened last night. Maybe that's his orc-half talking, he thinks with grim humor. That's the part of him supposed-to-be-a-savage-whoreson, right? The human part of him's supposed to want to talk, build a society, all that crap? Heh. Yeah, sure.

He's just as glad he doesn't speak Goblin, right now. Doesn't have to grit his teeth and say words to make nice. Nimlaidas can talk down the damn moon if it means they don't have another fight like that tonight, and every other night.

When there is a moment's respite between words, he gets out his mapmaker's kit, the map that Telemakos's creature had contributed to the making of, and their own very limited idea of the outline of the island itself from the Aspis's original naval scouting.

"Great Khaan," he says, letting Nimlaidas translate for him, "we are ignorant of the lines of your land, what belongs to your people and to others. We trespassed without wishing to do so. Is all the island claimed? Can we be shown, on the paper, where you would have us live?"

Devram, back in his armor, stands outside the tent watching the small force of the native hobgoblins. He can hear the voices inside, but not completely clearly. He looks over the enemy force, watching their stance, the way they handle their mounts, and whether or not they seem itching for a fight. He stands completely in the open, making no attempt to hide his interest.

Watching for anything of interest with their soldiers.
[dice=Sense Motive]1d20+8
[dice=Perception]1d20+9

It's clear that the enemy force is more organized and disciplined than even their own. Despite the heat and heavy armor, the soldiers barely shift at all in their saddles. They maintain their formation and alertness at all times.

Giving a rather cold look to Telemakos at his words he responds.

"The consortium is interested in profit above all, if war is profitable then so be it. Yet if peace if profitable then it is preferred. In my personal experience peace brings far more profit then war ever will. After all the cost in lives has been made clear, can we simply replace what we have lost. How much is your life worth sir Telemakos. I doubt anyone here is foolish enough to think peace will always be an option, yet war is always the last. There is no need for anyone here to prove their aptitude in it. Clearly they are aware of it, so let us continue."

He nods to the others and the Khaan before speaking to him.

** spoiler omitted **

Why do I have the sneaking suspicion the genie is going to do something to me later. xD

To be clear on the port issue, where you are now is not a port. It's just a slightly curved beach. Your longship can sail up rivers, and land on nearly any sandy beach. Galleons, like the Naga's Breath on the other hand are much more difficult. They require a deep water bay, and docks. That or taking boats to shore.

"Kuv tsis paub dab tsi koj txhais li cas los ntawm 'chaw nres nkoj. Kuv cov neeg tsis yog neeg tsav nkoj, peb paub me ntsis ntawm lub vuag. Lub Great Dawb pawg neeg tswj cov dej. Koj muaj peev xwm suav nej tus kheej triply koob hmoov yog hais tias koj tseem tsis tau ntsib cov fiends ntawm lub sib sib zog nqus tsis tau. Ntawm ntug dej yog zoo li no rau raws li deb raws li peb paub tias mus rau sab qab teb thiab sab hnub poob," the Khaan replies.

In the tent with the others, Penance eats some of the food and drinks some of the tea, sitting stiffly upright with his sword sheathed and listening to Emerion's many words in a language he doesn't speak.

His head still throbs from the long night and residual exhaustion. There's a big part of him that just wants to lay waste with the greatsword, pay back in blood for everything that had happened last night. Maybe that's his orc-half talking, he thinks with grim humor. That's the part of him supposed-to-be-a-savage-whoreson, right? The human part of him's supposed to want to talk, build a society, all that crap? Heh. Yeah, sure.

He's just as glad he doesn't speak Goblin, right now. Doesn't have to grit his teeth and say words to make nice. Nimlaidas can talk down the damn moon if it means they don't have another fight like that tonight, and every other night.

When there is a moment's respite between words, he gets out his mapmaker's kit, the map that Telemakos's creature had contributed to the making of, and their own very limited idea of the outline of the island itself from the Aspis's original naval scouting.

"Great Khaan," he says, letting Nimlaidas translate for him, "we are ignorant of the lines of your land, what belongs to your people and to others. We trespassed without wishing to do so. Is all the island claimed? Can we be shown, on the paper, where you would have us live?"

The Khaan takes the paper and bends it back and forth. He tears a small piece off the corner and pops it in his mouth, chewing for a couple seconds before frowning and spitting it out. "Yog dab tsi no? Yuav ua li cas yog lub hom phiaj ntawm tag nrho cov cim? Yuav ua li cas Kuv yuav siv tau nws los 'cov' koj nyob qhov twg tsawg haiv neeg nyob?"

The Khaan cocks his head at Penance. "Həqiqətən, siz Orc danışmaq?" he asks, switching languages.

Penance blinks at the chewing of the corner of his map. Well. That's new. He can guess the bemusement of the Khaan over his map, even before Nim translates, but at the Orc, he nods, trying to put as much respect into it as he can despite his personal feelings on the matter.

Ah, hell, how do you explain the entire concept of writing?? Let alone cartography? Penance clears his throat and says to the others, "They don't have writing. Or maps. We may have more to trade than weapons."

He slips back into Orc.

Penance blinks at the chewing of the corner of his map. Well. That's new. He can guess the bemusement of the Khaan over his map, even before Nim translates, but at the Orc, he nods, trying to put as much respect into it as he can despite his personal feelings on the matter.

** spoiler omitted **

Ah, hell, how do you explain the entire concept of writing?? Let alone cartography? Penance clears his throat and says to the others, "They don't have writing. Or maps. We may have more to trade than weapons."

He slips back into Orc. ** spoiler omitted **

"Mən etibarlı atlı göndərmək olardı. Bu, çox maraqlıdır. Biz qədimlərin belə şeylər idi, lakin biz olmayan hekayələr var. Siz necə bu şeylər istifadə etmək bizə öyrətmək olacaq?" the Khaan asks.

To the others: "He wants to learn writing. Says 'the ancients' did it. I'm fine with trading that."

"Biz sərbəst olacaq. Amma dediyim kimi: biz sizə günah deyil olmaq olduğu ticarət əvvəl, biz bilməlidir. Sizin və ya başqaları tərəfindən iddia heç bir torpaq var, bizim insanlar təhlükəsiz ola bilər?"

Feels strange speaking his mother's tongue to this point and purpose, Penance thinks. His own command of Orcish is rough (there's those who would argue that all command of Orcish is rough, that it's a rough tongue), formed as much from the mercenary patois that has sprung up among soldiers with 'a touch of green' in them, as from any actual contact with true orc tribes.

It's a tongue for talking about fighting in: trading knowledge of jobs, money, taverns, criminal activities.

And here he is, trying to sue for peace in it. Heh. His mother, he thinks, would find that pretty funny.

Emerion did not like not knowing what was being said, as soon as the Khaan addressed Penance he excused himself a moment to cast a spell of understanding. Returning as the exchange started, remaining out of it until Penance made a mistake.

"Careful with your words, do not promise anything. A broken word no matter how small could sour relations. You just offered to teach their whole tribe how to read and write for nothing. If they press it you will have to deliver. I do mean you as your the one that gave your word just now."

This was why the consortium had people like him, relations was a different battlefield where swords and armor meant nothing. A people with a culture of honor and ritual will place a high value on trust and by extension one's word. Break your word and they will always remember as will their children after them.