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Zootloot jumps into action as soon as the arrows start flying. He has no interest in being used as a pin cushion or punching bag or anything else like that. His guitar slides smoothly into his hands and he starts strumming away on its single string. A frantic melody bursts forth, inspiring courage to his allies.
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With the melee underway, Corbett grabs a boarding pike from a nearby rack, and trods towards the gnoll on the port side of the ship.
"Why, you no-good, dog faced..." mutters the Crab, couching the spear under his arm and running it directly into the gnoll with a sickening impact -- now shouting at the top of his lungs --"... SLAVEDRIVING SCUM ! WHIMPER BACK TO LAMASHTU'S WITHERED TIT, YOU MEWLING CUR! "
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Lotho, his vision still blurry from the brutal mace strike to the head, perhaps doesn't notice that the half-orc that hit him is now face down on the ground unconscious...or perhaps he doesn't care. He stabs the prone figure in the back once with his spear, opening up a large wound in the helpless half-orc which starts to seep blood out onto the deck.
Corbett rushes across the deck and promptly skewers the bow-wielding gnoll with his spear. The thrust is so powerful that the tip of the weapon protrudes through the back of the beast by at least a couple of feet. His dying body hangs limply, suspended in mid-air like it was on a spit ready to roast.
Zootloot chooses this moment to pull out his guitar and start providing a fittingly frantic musical accompaniment to the violent battle.
Meanwhile, back down on the rowboat, Savron gets his foot stuck in the bottom run of the ladder and still can't seem to make his way up. The dwarven pilot comes over and tries to help him get untangled. "Ye obviously don't spend much time out at sea, do ye...or mayhap even out o' ye house, am I right? Here, lad let me try and get you up there so you can help your friends do whatever they're doin'. Sounds like somethin' goin' up there, what with all that thumpin' and gruntin'! I won't be comin' up there to help pilot the ship into the docks until ye've secured it completely...just so ye know!"
Unfortunately, the dwarf struggles to get a good grip on the ladder herself, almost capsizing the boat and taking a moment just to keep herself from toppling over into the water.
Dahrani then lays into the remaining gnoll, carving him up with two vicious strikes of his weapon...and just like that all threats on the main deck are dealt with and the Pathfinders have a moment to assess their own wounds and decide their next steps.
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Esper draws her healing wand, uses it on herself, and then on Lotho.
Esper tucks her wand away, then implants another trick in herself and Corbett. This time she makes no show of it, simply touching him on the shoulder as she passes by, and using the contact to implant a psychic trigger with Corbett none the wiser.
Esper appoaches the dead slavers and checks them for anything of use.
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Corbett drops the dead gnoll to the ground, and steps with his foot down to clear him from the spearpoint, like a farmer clearing brush from a pitchfork.
He takes a moment to compose himself, then assures Lotho. "Anger's a wicked blade, mate. Sure, you can cut yourself with it, but if you can get a handle on it, you can harness it for good."
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-potions of cure light wounds (2)
-thunderstones (2)
-mwk scale mail
-mwk greatsword
-heavy mace
-crowbar
-saltwater pearl (50 gp)
-10 gp
-leather armor
-heavy wooden shield
-battleaxe
-longbow with 20 arrows
With the main deck and the helm of the ship now under their control, the group have effective control over the At Sea. The message up from Zigil, the dwarven pilot, however, is that she refuses to come up and help guide the ship through the dangerous Ship's Graveyard until she's been assured that the whole ship is secured and there's no more threat of further combat.
Looking around, the group see that there are set of stairs towards the bow of the ship, leading down into the lower holds.
After binding and looting the pirates, Dahrani puts on his leather glove for Kaepora to land.
"Looks like we're going down into the ship, friend. Stay on my arm until the action starts."
With his other hand, Dahrani draws one of his swords and points towards the stairs.
"Let's finish showing these slavers who's boss. I think it's about time they learn the term 'occupational hazard'."
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Zootloot watches as the others go through the fallen enemies' belongings. Nothing looks interesting to him except maybe the potions but really, the people up front are more likely to need healing in the heat of battle. At least that's the way he tries to plan it.
As Dahrani heads down below decks Zootloot moves closer to him. He wants to be close enough to hear if there are any problems but not so close that he's involved in those problems.
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The group head down the stairs of the ship. The hold of the At Sea seems to have been outfitted to allow for easy access from above and a mixture of live and boxed cargo. Iron rings attached to the inside of the hull on both sides provide anchor points for manacles . Along the port side, iron cages have been bolted to the floorboards and hull. Barrels of potable water and crates filled with dried carnivore feed are packed into several sections of the hold. There are two doors toward the stern.
Four slaves are chained to the starboard side’s iron rings. Three look to be Keleshite or Vudrani humans, and one looks to be a gnome! At the sight of the armed group descending the stairs, the gnome excitedly beckons to the group to free her.
Not all occupants of the hold are helpless or potentially helpful, however. A man with an unfriendly scowl on his face is stepping back from a cage that looks to have just been opened. "Ya shouldn't have come down her, ya curs!"
Inside the cage is a squat, vaguely canine looking beast with scaly skin covered in weeping sores that ooze foul-smelling liquids.
This is a trollhound. Slavering and voracious, trollhounds seem to be trolls in smaller canine form, and indeed, are often found as pets among gangs and tribes of trolls. Requiring vast amounts of food to fuel their regenerative metabolisms, packs of wild trollhounds range far and wide through the mountains of the north, their ravenous hunger driving them to hunt and consume any prey they can track down and kill. This one looks as though it is still quite young and not fully grown.
A trollhound’s saliva is an infectious brew of contagion. Creatures bitten by a trollhound are often afflicted with bloodfire fever, a disease characterized by deep internal pain, as if the victim’s blood were on fire. Additional symptoms include loss of muscular coordination, pus-filled blisters, and overall lethargy and fatigue. Trolls and trollhounds alike are immune to bloodfire fever, even though trollhounds often exhibit the pus-filled blisters that come with the disease.
They can regenerate slowly except from acid or fire attacks.
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The group start to rush into the hold to confront the human and his dangerous pet. Esper sends another burst of colours into the unfriendly animal handler's face and quickly takes him out of the fight. As his eyes roll back in his head, he starts to rock back on his heels and then collapses unconscious onto the planks.
Meanwhile, Lotho charges across the ship towards the trollhound, but is still showing some side effects of his bout of concussion from a few minutes ago. His swing is a poor one, swishing well over the canine-like creature's head.
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Savron, after his run in with the rope only a few minutes ago, pauses at the top of the stairs, perhaps doubting his climbing and descending abilities more than he normally would. After the short hesitation, he joins his companions in the lower hold and gives the ugly trollhound an evil looking stare from across the chamber.
The trollhound lets out a troubled grunt as it seems momentarily less sure of itself, but with a snort it then hungrily bursts out of the cage towards the nearest person it sees and goes in search of what could be its first meal in days...a juicy half-orc!
Lotho again finds himself in the wrong place at the wrong time. The starving trollhound latches onto his leg and not rips a huge chunk out of his calf. Blood spurts out in a gush from what can only be a severed artery in his leg. Although his orc toughness prevents him from passing out on the spot, his leg gives way and he ends up flat on his back.
Bloodfire fever: Bite—injury; save Fort DC 14; onset 1 day; frequency 1/day; effect 1d3 Str damage, 1d3 Dex damage, and target is fatigued; cure 2 consecutive saves. The save DC is Constitution-based.
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Once again, as soon as the battle starts, Zootloot grabs his guitar and starts playing. This time, instead of starting with a frantic ditty, he strums a low, single note that resonates deeply throughout the ship's hold.
He moves away from the bottom of the stairs and finds a barrel to sit on. Just as he hops onto the top of the barrel his nose twitches. Smoke? He looks towards the rear of the ship. It seems to be coming from there.
"Look lively folks, I smell smoke. We might have a bigger problem soon."
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Esper lets her psychic stranglehold on the unconscious man go, instead casting her mind out at the troll hound. She slips into its mind and latches hold, weakening its will and enlarging its pain centres.
Esper pulls out a dart from the folds of her robes and flicks her wrist sending it flying at the trollhound.
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Corbett wades into the melee, and seeing Lotho go down leads him the the port side of the ship to aid him. He steps around the animal handler, who is still reeling on the ship's floorboards in mesmerized bliss.
He squares off with the hound, and yells in it's direction. "Back, foul beast!" he says, brandishing his spear.
Sensing that it's about to pounce, he lunges.
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With its neglectful and most likely cruel handler down for a nap, the trollhound finds itself badly outnumbered. Esper reaches into its mind and weakens its will, but is unable to take advantage of her own mental manipulations. Her dart is not thrown with enough force and it bounces off the ugly looking creature's scaly skin.
Zootloot strums his guitar, spurring everyone on to finish the fight even quicker so that he'll stop making that terrible noise.
Corbett wastes little time, moving in close to the beast and spearing it with his longspear. Blood spurts from the wound of the creature which gurgles from deep in its throat as it turns to face him, a look of great pain on its face.
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Dahrani sees that most of his team has the trollhound under control, but he knows there's still more to be done.
With a whistle, Daharni beckons Kaepora and sends him at the trollhound.
"Help our friends, Kaepora. I will get these prisoners free before any more harm is done to them."
Dahrani steps up to the gnome first and frees them from their bondage.
"SCRREEEEEEEE---"
Responding to his master's command, Kaepora flies to the trollhound and starts to flap his wings in his face.
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Lotho, momentarily shaken by a vision of the trollhound ripping into his leg, dragging him to the ground and infecting him with a nasty disease, prods hesitantly at the gross looking creature and completely misses the beast.
Savron continues to stare menacingly at the trollhound, and in a disturbing accompaniment to Zootloot's incessant strumming, starts to cackle in tune with the sound of the guitar.
Meanwhile, Dahrani realises that it will be no easy task to break through the prisoners' manacles, but instead ungags the little green-haired gnome. She practically squeals as her mouth is finally free to speak once again. "Oh, thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I thought help would never come. You are Pathfinders, aren't you? I'm a Pathfinder too. Rilla's the name! Rilla Lavon...oh, what? The keys? Yes, yes of course!" She points to the door of one of the rooms, the one closest to the port side of the ship. "The Captain has them. She's in there! Be careful, though, she's a real piece of work!"
Before they can worry about the Captain, however, there's still the little matter of the hungry, mistreated Trollhound. It tries once again to grab onto Lotho and get a meal of fresh half-orc flesh.
It's too weakened, still affected by Savron's creepy stare, and a bit freaked out by the annoying owl flapping around near its head. It snaps well short of Lotho's leg.
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Any twinge of pity Corbett may have felt for the wounded trollhound is quickly suppressed as he lunges forward again and puts the creature out of his misery.
Dahrani steps up and takes a sneaky position around the corner from the door to the Captain's cabin. She doesn't immediately come out, however, and the ranger senses the smell of smoke is getting quite strong and seems to be coming from that very same room. Wisps of smoke now start to seep out from the cracks in between the door and its frame. What's going on in there?
Meanwhile, the nasty bloke on the floor stirs a little. His eyes pop open and he groans. By the stunned, blank look on his face he doesn't look to yet be a threat but he no longer seems to be completely unconscious.
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Corbett notices a lull in the clamour of battle. "Everyone okay!? Let's see about freein' them there, eh?"
He walks over astride the kennel master, planting his booted foot squarely on the man's chest. He holds his spear with the point a half a foot away from the man's head, just to let him know it's there. "Easy there, lad. No struggle, and there'll be no need to get hurt."