Caith leaps up from his chair and rushes to the insensate form of Charles, kneeling down next to him. He waits for the half-orc to clear the area before attempting to divine just what has ailed the man.
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Caith leaps up from his chair and rushes to the insensate form of Charles, kneeling down next to him. He waits for the half-orc to clear the area before attempting to divine just what has ailed the man.
"This is a pretty kettle of fish," I say as I rise to join the search for some crewmen.
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Upon leaving the room you are all in, a sound like shattering glass rings out from somewhere to the rear of the vessel. The inertia suddenly pulls your insides in every direction as the nose of the ship takes a sudden, and drastic, dip down.
Sounds of wood cracking, splintering and a rush of air fills your ears.
Climb skill check to cling onto the folds of Delweir's inner cloak pocket. (1d20-4=4)
Faint and barely audible croak from within Delweir's cloak admist the chaos.
Fort and Ref rolls (1d20 4=14, 1d4 2=5)
"Eeek! What was That?"
Fort: (1d20+2=12), Reflex: (1d20+6=20)
"Oh, that can't be good," Simn says.
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You mind tries to race to make sense of what is happening, as you all start to fall to one side of the room. An explosion from what is now the top of the room instantly draws your attention. Large pieces of what was once the ship come hurtling past your head and bodies, some smashing your would be comrades around like paper dolls in a wind storm.
One second you can see the moon, and the next a blinking red eye that fills the hole now made in the bow of the ship. It's glowing red eye dilates as it adjusts to the glow from the inside lamps.
Tips of the beast's claws as large as longswords emerge from the walls clutching the halved vessel and you inside. There is a jolt as the creature steals some of the falling vessels momentum.
You seem to hover in midair for what seems like seconds, then the eye and claws remove themselves as quickly as they came and you are again falling.
With a cracking thud, what is left of the vessel slams into the earth.
After a moment all is quiet.
The smell of swamp water starts to fill your senses. It seems you have crashed, and more than that you seem to have been in the air before you did so. As your ears stop ringing, and feeling returns to your forms you can make out a night time skyline, the air holds a heavy mist and water is slowly filling what is left of the halved vessel.
Looking around everyone is accounted, with the one exception of Charles. The only sign of him to be found is his helmet gleaming under some rubble formed on one side of the now tipped vessel.
I walk over and pick up the helmet, I look around briefly for the captain before strapping his helmet to my backpack
speaks in familiar tongue to Ssip
Somehow unscathed, I look to see who needs assistance as I plan an exit strategy from what appears to be a sinking ship.
Kavelin pulls himself into a sitting position with a groan, touching his fingers gingerly to a split lip that's beginning to swell. His normal verbosity has, for the moment, been silenced.
"OUCH."
I move over to the crack and look out to see if we're going to have to swim for it.
Alvartus scrambles deftly to his feet, avoiding all injury and avoiding nausea with the ableness of a sailor. He quickly moves about the room, unhurried as if nothing had happened, searching for anything that could have value as supplies.
Search check: 1d20+8=10
"Leave it to a bloody dragon to crash the party. I'm pretty sure it got a good look at all of us. We should take our time to prepare to leave this wreck - no sense running off like a bunch of skittering kobolds."
"Where is Charles? Did he fall out the side when that thing attacked?"
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All seems rather quiet now, the sounds of the swamp wash back in through the gaping hole in the side of the ship. You seem to have been deposited on a smaller sand bar in the swamp, the nose of the ship has sunk below the rivers edge, but the back end sticks out at a 45 degree angle off the ground.
Littered around the small sand bar are pieces of the ship, both large and small, mostly wooden wall sections, some metal parts here and there. Most of the metal instruments or gauges seem to have been crushed by the impact and now appear as nothing more than metal lumps.
A quick recon of what is left of the ship reveals a storage closet that has been overturned several times, it's contents battered, but an intact wooden chest. Inside are 13 door wedges made of steel, engraved on them is the word Walking but nothing more.
Flaming pieces of the ship still lazily fall from the sky like fireflies dancing to the swamps song. They spiral down and die out upon diving into the river or fading out when they touch the damp swamp floor.
Nothing else of import can be found, nor any other signs of Charles himself.
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Alvartus scrambles deftly to his feet, avoiding all injury and avoiding nausea with the ableness of a sailor. He quickly moves about the room, unhurried as if nothing had happened, searching for anything that could have value as supplies.
Search check: 1d20+8=10
"Leave it to a bloody dragon to crash the party. I'm pretty sure it got a good look at all of us. We should take our time to prepare to leave this wreck - no sense running off like a bunch of skittering kobolds."
Most of the chambers lights still flicker, checking them out they glow without heat (magical, you note.) There are 13 lights with what looks like a command word inscribed on them in common: 'Night.'
In what may have been the captains quarters you find a small box with a mithral circle, it seems more mechanical than magical. Your not sure what it is or does.
If he has the time, he checks the box for traps:
Search: 1d20+8=18.
Otherwise, he simply grabs the box (in either case, stuffing it in his backpack) and heads back to the main chamber.
"If we need light sources, these magical torches should suffice."
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If he has the time, he checks the box for traps:
Search: 1d20+8=18.
Otherwise, he simply grabs the box (in either case, stuffing it in his backpack) and heads back to the main chamber.
"If we need light sources, these magical torches should suffice."
Did I see anything interesting out of the crack, or just a sand-bar in a swamp?
Faint and barely audible croaking sounds emanate from the breast pocket of Duneriur's robe/cloak.
Alvartus snatches the box, hefts it to check its weight, and puts it in his pack. Then proceeds to move back to the main room to makes his announcement about the torches.
I see if I can remove one of the lights from the walls so that I can carry it as a torch.
Just Realized rolled wrong dice for my Ref save (1d20 5=12)
Grenep's quick reflexes and strong constitution manage to see him through the crises without any mishap. His tough little animal friend Gritch the badger is able to shake off the effects of the fall but doesn't quite manage to avoid all the falling debris. Gritch's saves (1d20 5=9, 1d20 4=17)
Grenep is still stunned for a moment though, seeming more awed than afraid as he says to no one in particular "Was...was that just a Dragon?"
The growl of pain his furry friend lets out though snaps him out of it and he says "Gritchy! You Ok buddy?" to which the tough little mammal simply snorts and moves to check out the gaping hole which is the back of the boat.
Grenep, seeing the skinny mage unable to pick up the helmet walks over and lifts it with relative ease, their past conflict forgotten by him in the tragedy of the moment he passes the helmet to the mage (if he is able to hold it). He then walks over to the wedges and picks them up as well.
Having spent a few brief but eventful moments actually standing on a wall, Simn is now shaking his head over the speed with which the group is setting to looting anything of use from the ship. Still, needs must and all that. And it looks as if the ship's flying days are over.
"Has anybody seen the crew?" he asks, having taken a quick tour of the ship and what passes for the 'land' surrounding it. Granted, he only recalls seeing the one crewman other than their patron, but it's a question that concerns him nonetheless.
"Was...was that just a Dragon?"
"Yes, it most certainly was," Kavelin says as he pulls himself up to his feet, "and considering we're not all dead it would seem as if the beast got what it came for. However, I'm don't feel like testing that hypothesis. I say we grab these magical torches, anything else of use, and get the Nine Hells out of here."
"Has anybody seen the crew?"
"No, however I don't hold out great hopes for anyone on deck when the dragon grabbed the ship. We should gather up any survivors once we're out. We'll need to get our bearings, figure out where we are, and where we go from here."
I step out of the wreckage onto the sandbar, my heavy sword gripped in one hand.
"We need to figure out where we are. If the 'ship' sinks no further, it might be our best campsite through a night. Still it would do no harm to scout out the immediate area as well as possible before making plans."
"Was...was that just a Dragon?""Yes, it most certainly was," Kavelin says as he pulls himself up to his feet, "and considering we're not all dead it would seem as if the beast got what it came for. However, I'm don't feel like testing that hypothesis. I say we grab these magical torches, anything else of use, and get the Nine Hells out of here."
"Has anybody seen the crew?""No, however I don't hold out great hopes for anyone on deck when the dragon grabbed the ship. We should gather up any survivors once we're out. We'll need to get our bearings, figure out where we are, and where we go from here."
"Woooow. A Dragon! Wasn't it Amazing!" Grenep can't help but comment at his first brush with that most magnificent of 'Animals'.
Grenep scratches his head for a moment in thought then says "Um, do we know there Is any crew??"
He'll then see about taking one last look around the place to make sure they didn't miss anything and then will take Gritchy and himself safely off the ship and have a good look around at their surroundings, attempting to see if he has any idea where they are or what this swampy area is like.
Knowledge Nature; Listen; Spot; Survival checks (1d20 4=15, 1d20 8=22, 1d20 5=7, 1d20 7=25)
Kavelin will continue with his previous action after asking Grenep for one of the wedges.
"May I?"
If Kavelin appears steady on the sandbar, Alvartus joins him nonchalantly, whistling while waiting for his supposed compatriots.
Duneriur walks over and removes one of the torches.
He then ask Grenep for one of the wedges
Knowledge (arcana) check on Door wedges [17,8] = (25)
Grenep, this appears to be too heavy for the likes of me, if you feel comfortable carrying it you should .. might come in handy.
Faint and barely audible croaking sounds emanate from the breast pocket of Duneriur's robe/cloak.
** spoiler omitted **
Barely audible croaking is generated from the inner folds of Duneriur's cloak.
"What kind of dragon was it? Are there any scales that fell off? Any teeth chips from when it attacked? Any claw shavings? Anything one can use in the arts of alchemy. Bah! What kind of wizard does not check for such things? You have the brain of a stone. It is as if I am the master here and you are the slave."
Barely audible croaking is generated from the inner folds of Duneriur's cloak.
** spoiler omitted **
Duneriur Glares at the set of small eyes in his breast pocket
The barely audible croaking sounds coming from Duneriur's cloak seem to stop in mid-croak.