Let's call it a Use of your Adventuring Gear?
Sweat or salt water stings Tom's eyes as he just runs to the first injured guest he can see and works on their wounds with his bandages.
"Our gear was placed carefully in a pile, and there's no wreckage, yet I remember screaming." He shakes his head. "Do you recall more than I?"
"Only that the rum was made from tar." She squints at the knot of people sprawled on the beach, nimble fingers idly rubbing the fine blue fur at the tips of her ears as she notes faces, valuables and alliances for further consideration.
" Seems oddly... fortuitous... that so many of us would wash up safely so far away from our boat. Maybe we have our missing passenger to thank for it, eh?"
The guest missing is a plain varisian scholar named Ieina. She was friendly enough among the crew, but seemed close with the captain. Rumors on the ship called her his secret lover.
The half elf in the captain's uniform is named Aerys, a hard drinking girl who got along famously with the crew, after socking a man who made lewd advances in the jaw on her first day on ship, but no grudge was held and she drank with the man later that day.
The gnome had introduced himself to any who asked as "Master Grelik Amberwhinge, Collector and Chronicler of Relics for the Pathfinder Society!" and had stayed far from the crew in his own rooms, taking expensive wine at dinner from his own chests and spending his days alone.
The tien man spoke very little of the common tongue and communicated mostly through gesures, pointing to himself and calling himself Ishirou, though it was anyone who couldn't speak Tiens guess as to whether or not that was a name or some description.
The shackled Garundi had not spoken to anyone, being locked in a cabin the captain had ordered off limits shortly after boarding.
The last introduced herself as Sasha Nevah, an adventurer, though she seemed to have quite the temper, but her mood shifted very quickly, though her laughter afterward always had a bit of a manic quality.
As Tom and Praedonus attempt to minister to the redheaded woman her eyes snap open and her hands shoot from her sides, sharpened nails moving quickly towards the men's eyes!
What do you do?
Mock immediately looks to the other "guests", alert for any further threats. Otherwise, she's still conversing idly with Rhys and attempting to scrub salt and sand from her gear.
"That was every morn for me, back in Rag's End." She shakes her head ruefully, nodding at the frantic woman.
Tom attempts to defend Praedonus.
Tom pushes Praedonus to of the way seeing the woman lash out.
Mock notices that in the pile of gear is a statuette, several inches across made of darkwood, with emerald studs. It looks quite valuable, though you'd guess it belongs to one of the other guests. In all the hubbub, you could likely casually grab it without notice.
The woman's bloodred nails flash out toward Praedonus' eyes, but as Iron Tom throws him out of the way they slash across his face, not deeply but painfully. Sasha takes the momentary shock of the group to contort her body and leap to her feet without using her hands, raising her hands palm down in a motion reminiscent of a striking insect. "You'll not touch a hair on my beautiful head you bastards! I'll tear your balls from your stem!" She yells as she slides into a martial stance.
What do you do?
Mock claps slowly and dramatically, a smirk playing across her features.
"Truth, now: Are you scared for what virtue you may have remaining, or are you just plain scared?"
Peace, maiden. I am Iron Tom... from the ship. You, like us, have been stranded on this beach. Praedonus and I were merely trying to heal any wounds you may have.
Tom stands slowly with his arms raised like he's tending to raptors.
Whilst the maiden defends her virtue, Mock will spend a few moments examining the area around the pile of gear, looking specifically for footprints leading away from the pile, towards the forest.
Whomever piled our gear up had to go somewhere...
"I'm no maiden." She spits angrily. "And I don't take kindly to dirty men trying to touch me when I'm out. What the hell happened?"
There is a clear landing in the sand where it has been smoothed by the prow of a small ship, along with one set of large bootprints and drag marks leading to both where the gear has been gathered and where each body lay before they got up and started moving around. From the size of the mark you would guess that the ship was a dinghy or lifeboat. There are no tracks away from the area, and no boat in sight.
Rhys walks up towards the lady and flashes her a mischievous smile. "I am sure, my dear, that with your spirit, they would be truly missing out if they were to not wait until you were awake." He gives a slight bow. "Please excuse them - without knowing what happened, we could not be sure that you had survived. They did mean only to help." He kicks one of the scorpion-creatures. "After all, it was not only us who woke up on this beach."
Mumbling like a curmudgeon, Tom moves quickly to the next guest he can see applying the bandages and attempting to get them to their feet.
"Well, this is a pretty pickle. Let's get everyone up, and head towards what's left of the damn boat." Mock gestures to the north, tail snapping to and fro with annoyance. Best chance we have for a roof over our heads, and maybe a few more necessities."
She retrieves her knife from one of the crab-things and cleans it before it disappears back into her sleeve.
"Up now, sirrah, best not to waste daylight." She offers a hand to the oddly-dressed gnome.
Sasha seems to relax at Rhys' charming words and seems to notice her bandaged injury for the first time. "Right... fine. Sorry. Just not used to people sneaking up on me." She steps out of her fighting stance and makes a disgusted face toward the sea scorpions. "Ugh. Ugly bastards aren't they? Where's my swords?"
The others awaken slowly under Tom's ministrations, though none are injured. "Ugghhh... Last time I woke up like this I was pantsless on the floor of a dockside tavern in Sandpoint." Aerys opens her eyes gingerly and looks around. "Well the company is prettier here at least." She rolls to her side and retches into the sand. "What happened?"
The Garundi man awakens quickly, striking out ineffectually with his manacled hands before calming quickly. "My apologies..." He mutters as he looks around. "Out of the frying pan..."
The hulking Tien awakens with questioning eyes and asks several of what are likely questions in a strange tongue. Upon realizing he isn't being understood easily he rolls his eyes, then feels above his shoulder, a shocked look opens in his eyes and then he stands. The man makes several gestures towards his back and asks more questions angrily.
The gnome awakens with a groan of discomfort and scrambles to his finely shod feet with Mock's help. "Oh my..." He pales at the sights around him and then sighs deeply. "Well then... I suppose moving would be good. I assume our possessions would be on the ship?"
Praedonus grunted when he was shoved to the sand and was too taken aback by Sasha's outburst to offer any input. Instead, the Paladin stands and gives a half-hearted attempt to brush himself off before tucking his gauntlets in his belt and going to the neatly arranged pile and retrieving his gear.
Seeing that the rest of the castaways were mobile, Praedonus approaches Tom. Let us see if the Dawnflower will heed my pleas with a more cooperative patient.
"At this point, my good man... it's wiser not to assume anything." She flashes a quick smile at the old gnome, meant as a reassurance. "I remember seeing you wielding a compass, back when we had a boat... I hope that means you may have some idea of where we are, and how far we might be from some semblance of civilization?"
Thank you Praedonus, your faith rewards you... and me I suppose! Tom laughs, I must seek the light of Sarenrae myself. If you would be so kind please watch over this bad of rogues, we must stick together to survive this calamity.
Tom sits under the sun, holy symbol in hand as he communes with his deity.
"Well I'm not too knowledgeable about these waters my good lady." He says as he dusts himself off and beats sand off his bright purple pantaloons. "But perhaps with my tools I could determine where we are." He digs through the pile of gear for a moment before emerging with a small fanny pack. "Aha! A bare moment my dear and I'll have our location. I am Master Grelik Amberwhinge, Collector and Chronicler of Relics for the Pathfinder Society, and your name was...?"
"Don't bother Master Fancypants." Aerys says as she pulls herself to her feet. "Only one island this big in the waters we sailed. We're on Smuggler's Shiv." She looks around and puts a thumb up toward the sun. "The northern shore looks like. Damn... southern shore is used by smugglers, north sinks everyone who comes close." She shakes her head and looks toward the listing wreck of the Jenivere. "The hell was Cap'n thinking taking us by this way?"
The Tien brute finds a fine katana in the gear and straps it to himself with a satisfied smile, then points towards the ship. "Antariwa?"
"My name, Master Amberwhinge, was - and still is - mine own." She offers him a placatory wink and half-bow. "You may, however, call me Mock."
She eyes Aerys with a raised brow, her ears perked with sudden hope. So, then... we head south, obtain passage and sail back to the comforts of civilization, eh?" She does a neat about-face, ending up aiming vaguely south.
Hey ho! Let's go! she shouts, glaring impatiently at Iron Tom, wrapped peacefully in his devotional.
You be too old to be this hasty mock, the Shiv be not popular with smugglers for whiskey lakes and one-legged guardsman. This place be dangerous, and we best keep 'r wits about us. Tom responds in the middle of is devotion, So long as we leave the beaches by nightfall we'll be safe... safe enough anyhow.
"You plan on praying some trees down and building a boat, then?" She waves a dismissing hand at the placid old pirate. "If we stay on the beach, we can see the... bears... coming. We can light a signal fire, maybe someone..."
Mock's voice trails off as she realizes how far out of her element she is.
Rhys shakes his head. "We should stay put until we know where we are. Once Master Amberwhinge has an idea to that effect, we can better choose a direction. In the meanwhile, I think you're right about a fire. Perhaps we should salvage what we can from the wreck, while it's still afloat." He pauses, looking at the sky with some concern. "And light out."
"Despite your insistence, you've got but one vote, preach." responds Mockery. Perhaps it's time to hear what our other guests have to say on the matter?"
Tom clumsily introduces himself to the group after focusing on conversation with Mock before pleasantries, "I can admit I'm wrong when it be the truth no matter how thick-skulled another may be, and I have no place speaking fer others on this matter. Best left for majority vote, and you'll get no fight from me whate'er the choice be made. After a pause he adds, The dawnflower has blessed me with the ability ta heal after my prayers, is anyone in need?
"Moving straight south might be tough. The Shiv's a jungle, tough to get through. Not to mention there's some... rumors." Aerys says ominously. "Hear there's cannibals somewhere inland, and plenty of nasty wildlife."
"Cannibals? Ugh." Sasha Nevah pulls a pair of matching serrated blades from the pile of gear and straps them to her hips. "I'm fine roughing it a bit, but I do have somewhere to be."
"I suppose adding myself that makes for 3 votes to make a camp. Somewhere fortifiable I suppose, and I'd dreadfully like to be out of muck if possible." Grelik continues to twist dials and knobs on his sextant, then smacks his lips and tries to hold it more level. "Damned these calibrations to the Abyss."
The large Tien man clearly does not understand the conversation and stands befuddled.
The garundi man levers himself to his feet awkwardly with his chained hands. "I vote to press on. Can anyone take a look at getting me out of these?"
Praedonus shifted restlessly in the sand as the people around him discussed the merits of this course of action or that. He was no commander, to be sure, but neither did he handle inaction well. When it became apparent that the group was of as many minds as members, he snatched up his trident and pointed to the listing wreckage of their ship.
That there is the only thing known in this sea of uncertainty.
The paladin began to stride towards what remained of the Jenivere and called back over his shoulder. I am going to see what can be recovered. I'll turn back by the time the sun is a hand from the horizon.
A few strides later, Praedonus called back once more. Mock! Care for a scrounge? He never broke stride and he never once looked back.
"Definitely, Praedonus. A moment, though."
Mock saunters across the wet sand to the garundi man, her eyes locked with his, flat and calculating.
"Your hands. Give them to me. Hold still."
She examines the shackles briefly, more with her fingers than her eyes, rotating them (and the man's torso) this way and then that.
Somewhere in the process, she's acquired a fistful of delicate tools; in her deft hands they poke, prod and dance with practiced efficiency until, with a dull snap, the manacles fall to the sand.
On a 10+, you do it, no problem. On a 7-9, you still do it, but the GM will offer you two options between suspicion, danger or cost.
If they be searching the ship, then we shall make camp. I can't divine an exact location, but I can give us a starting point, Tom grasps his holy symbol once more and prepares a simple rote of guidance from Saerenrae.
"Thank you. Truly." The man says in his smooth baritone. "I am Jask, scribe and devotee of Nethys, framed for a crime I did not commit." He bows his braided head through the introduction. "I will be happy to come and help with exploring our recent quarters." He stretches widely and rubs his wrists, then picks up a hefty chunk of driftwood. "I'm afraid I'm not much of a warrior, but I can attempt to help where I can, and I have a few healing tricks."
"Ishirou..." The Tien man says while pointing to himself, then points toward those leaving toward the ship and then back to the group gathering toward the camp, shrugging his shoulders in a universal gesture.
As Iron Tom attempts to call upon Sarenrae, the words of his old master come to mind. Sarenrae is sometimes a harsh mistress. She loves to bring secrets to light, but if you're searching for yourself well... sometimes she decides you owe her something, and she don't like if you're taking advantage. A feeling of stern disapproval fills Iron Tom as he finishes the spell, and he feels it suddenly disappear from his fingers like a wool cloth with a string pulled too far.
How did you part ways with your old master?
"I suppose that puts us on getting a new campsite placed. What do you think?" Aerys asks, looking at everyone else on the camping group.
What do you do?
"...framed for a crime I did not commit."
"A kindred soul, then. Welcome to the family." Mock's words taste bitter, and her tail snaps spitefully.
She crushes a skittering crabling underfoot, takes a pair of calming breaths and drapes a companionable arm around Jask's shoulders. "Well, then, that's settled. let's be about our scrounging, yes?
She steers her companion after Praedonus, wafting the whistled refrain to a notoriously bawdy drinking song over her shoulder to mingle and tempt Iron Tom's droning supplication.
How did you part ways with your old master?
As Father Roth's words replace the simple rote with his wisdom, Tom sighs heavily at the all too familiar trials of redemption. His master was not very eager to accept a former slaver who was nearly his age entering his flock, and the relationship between them was never as natural as those who dedicated themselves to Sarenrae from their teenage years. Tom did not mind, with his checked past doing the difficult or disgusting work of a healer was an easy burden to bear for his quest.
Roth may have been a bit cold at times, but he was a source of inspiration and his teaching did drag Tom from retreating into a bottle to opening himself to receive the blessing of the Healing Light. Once his devotion turned to exhortation, Roth acknowledged Tom celebrating his rise from initiate to acolyte with a feast held at dawn around six months ago. Those days are the strongest held happy memories Tom has since dedicating himself to a cause greater than his own desires. Even so, the sea called once more and when the opportunity to set sail presented itself Tom left quietly - leaving only a note to Father Roth along with leaving a larger than normal offering at the church.
It wasn't that he necessarily wanted to slip out the back door, it's just that Tom knows Roth has a low opinion on sailors - and with Tom's past working with pirates and ne'er-do-wells the verbal goodbye would quickly turn to a confrontation Tom didn't want. The temptation to do ill for coin is simply not there, but the true path to redemption lies on the sea... and lies with undoing some of those institutions that Tom enabled during his life.
"I suppose that puts us on getting a new campsite placed. What do you think?" Aerys asks, looking at everyone else on the camping group.
Aerys' words bring Tom back to the present, Me eyes are as sharp as ever, though I be not much of an frontiersman. I was hoping for some guidance from the divine, but alas this island's yet another test to me faith. I feel there be a greater purpose to our presence here.
Tom scratches his beard and stares into the foliage off the beach, Sasha, you owe me one fer these cat scratches you gave me when I was only helpin'. You are on point, Aerys you keep track of supplies. We'll find us a campsite. Anyone who cares to join us is encouraged to, though Praedonus and the thief also need aid - the goods on the ship would be a great boon to us.
Rhys nods to Tom. "Alright, I'll help with getting supplies. Get a fire going and we'll find you." Turning towards the Tien man, he continues. "Ishirou, was it? Come along."