He growls a moment but settles down. "Very well, no Croat. We still need a boat. Let's see what's still seaworthy at the harbor."
Happy Turkey Day everyone!!!!! Lets kill us a turkey on the way to our destination. Pick us some potatoes and carrots and lets eat well before we go take on the world.
The harbor is entirely devoid of shipping. Nothing bigger than a rowboat, and those will require a quest to locate and seize.
The group gathers their possessions at the Gold Goblin and says their final farewells to the place. It is a soggy wreck - nothing remaining of the its glory so recently restored.
The streets on the way through Leeward are undoubtedly dangerous for your average straggler but six armed adventurers are more than your average mugger can handle. Before you know it you're past the last of the houses and on the open road.
At first, you find the road to be a crowded place. There's been a general exodus of the desperate from the town and the shoulder of the road is littered with their cast-off garbage.
The terrain outside town is of forested hills. This ground is high enough to have escaped the flood, but desperate locals have hunted the woods closest to the town. By the end of the first day of travel you've covered a decent piece of ground, but are still not within view of the coast or the river. You also have very little in the way of provisions for either sleeping or eating.
Luckily the weather is cooperative and sleeping under the stars is a viable option.
As the party moves along, Brenin and Kwava forage and keep everyone out of any natural pitfalls. Even with the townspeople taking to the woods to find food, their lack of knowledge leaves plenty for the party on the move.
[/ooc]Anything above a ten means I can feed myself. Every two above that equals another person. Adding Kwava's assistance in there and I'm able to manage for myself and ten other people. That's as close to turkey as we're going to get.[/ooc]
The rangers deliver for the group, not only downing a turkey of moderate size, but also locating a rock-shelter in the hills capable of sheltering a fire.
The following day on the road could be worse. There's not a doubt in your mind that a smaller, less well-armed group of travelers would be assaulted by some of the miscreants you pass, but none of these pester the party. Near the end of the second day, the road leaves forest behind and takes to the folding ridgelines of the open countryside.
Mid-morning of the third day finds the party resting at a particularly scenic spot on the road. The Varisian gulf sparkles on the southern horizon. Before you, the road cuts a sweeping art to the east.
"This is where we leave the road if we're to make our way to where I was dropped."
"At least there will be less chance someone will try and mug us. Let's find your ship."
For three days Kwava leads you across country towards the mouth of the Velashu river. With each range of hills that you climb the sea and the river grow steadily closer. The last day of the hike is the hardest of the trip as you re-enter the devastation zone from the tidal wave.
Between the foot of the nearest hill and the actual shoreline is a belt of tangled brush, felled trees and mud. Everywhere there's the cloying smell of five-day old death. If you're forced to stay here for long, hunting is going to become an issue. On top of this, the weather is turning sour, limiting visibility and threatening a cold rain. Ugly blue clouds scud across the horizon riding a very fast breeze.
Fortunately, less than a half-hour passes on the beach before Ganmede comes hurtling out of the sky like a thunderbolt to light on Kwava's arm. The bird is disheveled and weak after so much flying and Kwava handles him gently, cooing at the bird and offering a small piece of dried meat.
Attached to Ganmede's leg is a note. Kwava unrolls the little piece of paper and reads with a look of genuine relief on his face.
"Dated yesterday. 'Two days east Velashu's mouth. Will stand off there for three days before proceeding to port.' Signed Captain Creesey."
He looks around at you all, smiling for the first time in days. "We're getting out of here, people."
All right. Thats the best news we've heard in days. We should get a move on so we get there in time and a goods night rest would be nice too.
Trudging through the forest, Gabbro looks around with a slight sense of unease.
"Not used to the smell of the air," he explains. "I grew up in cities for most of my life. That pine smell seems wrong, somehow."
"I'm with you, Big Guy. Open spaces make me twitchy." She walks with the half-orc awhile. "Do what I do and pretend the trees are buildings and all the cute furry animals are serial killers. It almost makes it seem like home," Lia says with a smile. "So, I grew up in the city that was just leveled." She heaves a small sigh, "And everyone I've ever known is gone, save these people." She gestures to the group. "And most of them I've just met." "How about you? Surely Riddleport wasn't your only home?"
Brenin leaves the city dwellers to the their talk and falls in beside Kwava. "As much as I've enjoyed the last few days in the wilderness, I think our crew is about to mutiny if we don't find some riff-raff and cut throats to mingle with. Two days from the river mouth and he leaves in two days. Am I misreading this or do we need to push on quickly to make sure we don't miss our boat?"
"I'm with you, Big Guy. Open spaces make me twitchy." She walks with the half-orc awhile. "Do what I do and pretend the trees are buildings and all the cute furry animals are serial killers. It almost makes it seem like home," Lia says with a smile. "So, I grew up in the city that was just leveled." She heaves a small sigh, "And everyone I've ever known is gone, save these people." She gestures to the group. "And most of them I've just met." "How about you? Surely Riddleport wasn't your only home?"
Overhearing the conversation Reese walks up and joins Lia and Gabbro.
"Yeah Gabbro, I'm interested too. We're a pretty messed up group. Except for that whole Croat thing so far you fit right in." I look up towards the sky and put my arm around Lia. "I really miss T and the big guy, do you think there is any way they made it?" Wiping away some stray tears I gather myself together. "Well we had no choice, we had to leave. Who knows maybe they got out too. It's just that I miss him, this journey would have been a barrel of laughs with them around."
"Hmm, yeah," Gabbro replies, noncommitingly. "I traveled a lot. A lot of people like having a strong back and menacing glare available, but... no one wants to live with one."
He picks up a loose stone, grasping it tightly, as if drawing power from it. "Mostly did odd jobs as necessary. Caravan duty took me from city to city when things started to get hot. Bouncing in Magnimar. Dockwork in Korvosa. Shoveling horse dung in Kaer Maga. At least, I think it was horse dung..."
He flings the rock into the trees. Squirrels scamper in response. "Got word of something bigger in Riddleport. Guarantee of work. Showed up, got some dockwork, but that wasn't the big thing the Boss wanted, no. He needed a prizefighter. Figured I got the ferocity down. So, days were spent moving crates, nights were spent rearranging faces for money. Learned more about taking a man apart up close than I ever thought. Made a name for myself. Then... everyone got crushed."
"He'll sail right by us to get to Riddleport. I'll send Ganmede back to him asking that he pluck us off the coast here."
True to his word, Kwava sends off a renewed Ganmede later in the afternoon. Then he sets about locating shelter and food. This requires a hike back into the hills and out of the devastation zone. Between him and Brenin, a rock shelter with a view on the river's mouth is found and another impromptu camp is pitched.
The next two days are a damp and impatient mess. The third day dawns clearer and breezy.
"Sail ho!" Kwava cries at first light, waking those of you still sleeping. A sleek four-masted vessel stands no more than a mile off-shore making a course for the Velashu.
"That's the Flying Cloud," Kwava says as he moves around, striking camp. "Let's get out to that island and see what in the hells the dark elves have wrought."
The ship sends a boat in through the light surf and before you know it you're leaving terra firma behind. Creesey's men have a hard pull to bring you and your gear off the beach but the deed is eventually accomplished. The reward for their labor is getting to watch the ladies climb the gangway.
On the gently rolling deck of the Flying Cloud you're received by Josper Creesey and his mates. Creesey's a lean man with a close-cropped beard, pointed mustache and a braided cord of black hair. He greets Kwava warmly when he comes up the side and tries to kiss each of the ladies' hands.
"Welcome aboard the Flying Cloud, fastest ship on the Varisian Gulf! What kind of trouble have you stirred up now my friend?" The question is aimed at Kwava.
Lia has never been stirred by manners and a pretty face. She doesn't trust anyone that makes their living by flailing about the water. She starts to sweat and is certain the whole damn ship is sinking at any minute. However, it never hurts to be nice to those with skills you don't have... "Well met, friend," she says to Josper, and she moves a little closer to him. He should know all about surviving on the water, right?
Brenin laughs at Josper's question. "He shot an arrow at a thief and missed...knocked a star out of the sky and flooded all of Riddleport. Then they ran us out of town."
"Brenin Grazier at your service. Seriously though, stay away from Riddleport. Riots abound and the locals have already hijacked a couple of visiting ships."
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"You wouldn't credit it, but the wave was insignificant at sea. No comparison to the fireworks. We had no idea the scale of the thing until we came inshore and saw how far inland the wave ran. Is the town so devastated?"
He listens to your account of things, moving you into his cabin as your stuff is stowed below by the hands.
He thinks a bit, weighing his options. "We've been running the coast for weeks. We haven't watered in a long time. I was hoping to do it in Riddleport, but that seems unlikely. That means I need to shear off to Roderic's Cove sometime in the near future."
"I never figured you for a prospector Kwava. You need to get on the island for Lantern-bearer business, I'm assuming?"
Kwava casts a side-long glance at Gabbro before he continues, clearly weighing trust factors.
"It was the drow who called the stone to earth. Something they've created or learned. We killed one," a nod to Lia, "and there's more on this island, Devil's Elbow."
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Creesey spreads out a chart with Devil's Elbow in the corner.
"This damned island is surrounded by wicked reefs. Back in the day, we could beat a hasty retreat through these islands and shake a pursuer. Today, we just outrun them." He pats the huge mast that runs through his cabin affectionately.
"There's a couple of dilapidated docks in the cove on the north shore of the island. It's really the only viable landing that I know of on the island."
He looks around at you.
Fortitude:
Good to go.
Although, having never even seen the ocean before, Brenin is doing remarkably well for his first cruise.
My spells are set. I'll make you a copy to have on hand.
Always up for margaritas!!!
Reese looks at the captain and says," I hope your as good as Kwava says. This doesn't look like it's going to be any fun."
"We know of at least two boats headed towards that island already, not to mention the drow who was already on it. It may be best to land somewhere less known about if possible. If not, we'll just have to take our chances."
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Creesey leads you back out into the sun, where he gives the order that will bring you to the island, then leads you around on a tour of his ship. The first thing he shows you is the gleaming brass bow chaser. It fires chipped-stone shot that's as large as a goblin's head and considerably rounder.
He muster's the firing crew and puts them through their paces. The tackle's let off, the charge loaded and primed, the carriage run back in, the match lit. He makes a demonstration of pointing the piece, then fires it himself.
The blast is deafening. The acrid black smoke, blinding. He looks back at you all with a blackened smile.
"No shot, of course. We only have twenty rounds for it, so we try not to fire them into the ocean."
Below decks he shows you to an impossibly small and damp chamber in the forepeak.
"This is where we'll sling the men's hammocks. I'll sling my own down here while we sail together." He points out your possessions in a crate on the floor.
"Naturally, the ladies will have my cabin," his eyes linger on Lia as he speaks.
"We'll fetch the island before night falls if the breeze holds just so. My guess is that it will."
Your group has the run of the ship.
Well now, thats a really fine cannon you have there. Are you men folk thinking we are going to need that on the way in?
"Depends on how much noise you make, I'd guess."
Gabbro let out a wry smile to himself, before heading down to the holds to remove his armor and sit on the floor.
Ever so gently, the air around the half-orc had a swelling feeling, as if there was something, lightly chanting and cheering him on.
Lia decides that she'll play along and gives Creesey a smile. "What the hell," she says to herself. "It's not like he's following us onto the island, and I don't mind having the captain as a friend. Makes it more likely he'd be willing to save me if I needed it." She leaves the strategery to those more familiar with things not city-like.
Creesey leads Lia around on the deck, pointing out and naming a million different lines and spars.
"Of course the view is much better up above." He gazes up to the crow's nest. "Fancy a climb?"
Kwava shakes his head and makes himself scarce by climbing out on the bowsprit and finding a perch there.
Creesey leads Lia around on the deck, pointing out and naming a million different lines and spars.
"Of course the view is much better up above." He gazes up to the crow's nest. "Fancy a climb?"
Kwava shakes his head and makes himself scarce by climbing out on the bowsprit and finding a perch there.
With a wink towards Lia, I say to Creesey,"Have fun you two. I'm going to see about getting some rest before we get there. I assume your cabin is this way?" Seeing as he's not paying any attention to me, I wander off in the direction I assume his cabin is and make myself at home.
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Seeing Lia's hesitation, Creesey retreats. He takes the wheel himself for awhile, then hands the helm back over to one of his mates and paces.
Six hours of clear sailing on a steady breeze. The Flying Cloud truly flies with the right set of sails and Creesey apparently knows his trade.
Kwava passes the time meditating or staring at the chart of the island pinned out on Creesy's table. Samaritha reads a book of Creesey's collection for a little while, then withdraws to the corner trying not to be ill.
Suddenly a cry from on high rouses everyone.
"Sail Ho!"
"Where away?"
"Two points off the starboard bow."
Creesey takes his glass with him as he climbs to the top to see for himself. As you come out onto the deck, he slides down a backstay and lands on the deck nearby.
"It's a lone ship. Two masted. Coming from the direction of the island. No colors of any kind. If he's seen us, he hasn't reacted." He pauses for a moment, then continues - a fine piratical look in his eye.
"Could be he's loaded down with skymetal. Ain't no cargo more precious than that."
Brenin groans at Creesey's comments and walks off to find Samaritha. "So much for sneaking in quietly. Good chance it's either Zincher or Croat. Might be bad for business to sink them boys, but maybe not." Brenin shrugs. He has no idea how politics work in the city and even less how they work out here on the open water. "I have no desire to fight over skymetal, but if that's what it boils down to, I'll fight to keep the boat I'm riding on afloat.
Skymetal isn't why she's here, but Lia understands someone wanting to make a quick buck. "So, Creesey, what's the plan?" She is terrified of drowning at sea, so it's better to have something to do, something to think about, other than drowning.
Reese stands back and shakes her head. She is cool with fighting but wonders how she can be of use if the goal is to save the skymetal. Her pyrotechnics are almost legendary these days. She also wonders about her new bud Gabbro.
Spying Gabbro over yonder she takes a walk and asks him ,"So if this is Croat whats your plan? And before you answer remember I was trying to help you with the killer lobsters before you stab me in the back. "
Kwava overhears Rees and comments from his spot on the bowsprit.
"It isn't Croat," he says, as he hands a borrowed glass back to one of Creesey's mates and starts to climb down. "It's a couple of very busy looking young men sailing more ship than they can manage. They may have a story, but I don't think they have your skymetal."
"And I agree with the rest of the group - it's not the skymetal we're after anyway. The important thing is that those are not drow. Those men haven't seen us yet from anything I can tell. They don't have a man in their top at all."
Creesey nods and keeps to a course that will bring you to the island. Kwava climbs up to the maintop with another borrowed glass and watches the far-off sail until it's gone completely. Not long after that there's another cry from the tops, this time from Kwava himself.
"Land and another sail!" He points ahead, to the south. "There's more sails flashing out on that one - I think she's laying on sail."
Creesey mutters to Brenin, "Must have seen us just as we seen them. They're lyin' dead between us and the port."
"It's your call captain. We need to get to that island, and if it means a fight with that ship, we're in. I'm a pretty good shot with a bow once we get within range."
Kwava grins at Brenin. "Nor am I. If it comes to blows we should both start in the tops."
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Creesey replies. "That's good. Focus on their own tops first, then go for leaders or rally-men. Morale is the key to a ship action. The faster we take away their spirit, the faster we win."
"The cannon has that effect, but I don't want to maul her too bad if it comes to that. We'll use the cannon early and at range if we can."
"Colors, sir?" one of Creesey's mates calls out the question. He stands by a locker crammed full of flags.
"I think we should wear the red pennant today, on account of our fair guests." More moon-eyes at the ladies. "Let them guess what we mean by it."
He picks up a speaking trumpet at the wheel and calls down. "Quarrrr-ters!" He repeats it, pointed up at the rigging. The crew starts performing new tasks in every direction.
"We'll not fire first unless they cross us up. I cannot tell his intentions yet, except that he doesn't intend to surrender the weather gauge."
Uh Creesey, is fire okay for this battle? If so, put me where you think would be best for my fireballs and such.
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"The whole shootin match is flammable - and so is ours. If we need to sink her, you're the first person I'll call. My thought was that the ladies would help defend our ship if things go against us. But then you ladies are a bit more... capable than most of my previous female passengers. Just use fire in emergencies, please."
The distance between the two ships narrows rapidly.
"S'just the sir." calls a mate from the top. "She's coming on like she means to engage us, though."
This is the ship that Zincher stole.
"Let's give her an early warning shot. Let her know that we're armed and can hurt them from afar. We'll judge them fair after that."
The crew goes through the paces and fires a thundering shot. A plume of white spray shows the line but was true but well short of the target. The crew flies through their routine to impress the captain.
Brenin punches Kwava im the shoulder and bolts towards higer ground. "Race you to the top!"
As he heads up, Brenin thinks about Creesey's command to take out the tops first then the leaders...let Zincher walk across that deck, however and he better watch his head.
Brenin finds him a spot on stable ground and readies his bow.
Gabbro emerges from below, looking around curiously. "What? What's all this action about?" With an unsettling glint, he adds, "A fight?"
"Stay sharp ladies!" Kwava calls out as he springs for the foretop, leaving Brenin the main.
Part-way through the race the gun goes off again with a crash.
The mate with the glass calls down to Creesey.
"That one went home! Shattered off the capstan and cut 'em up awful. There's alot of armed men in the waist of the ship, Captain. Sure they mean to board us!"
Creesey lines up several more shots and a couple of them are on target, but the Black Bunyip just comes on with determination. The men on that deck are blooded and persistent. They surge to the near rail as the two ships yaw for position and the range narrows.
Brenin smiles to himself as his feet and hands hit the ropes, rigging and ladders just right, bounding onto the platform to look over at Kwava who manages his slightly higher perch at precisely the same time.
"Guess it'll come down to the most hits then. Let's see if you can shoot as good as you climb."