Several members of the crew nod agreement when Evril makes his outburst. In particular, "Badger" Medlar, Giffer Tibbs, Crimson Cogsward and (perhaps surprisingly) Jake Scrimshaw all seem inclined to support a quick and painful end for their surviving foes. Sandara watches the exchange with interest but no indication that she strongly supports one choice or the other. Fishguts, however, looks ill, and takes a very long swig from his rum before turning and semi-stumbling after Chum, muttering to himself.
Evril's outburst surprised me considerably. I had truly thought Evril and Eleuterio would have approved my actions. I was not going to supplant Plugg and make my first action aboard this ship be an execution. Only villains nursed grudges and refused to let old rivalries go. I was prepared to let Aretta, Jape and Syl fade into obscurity; a mere footnote in my tale.
I rather regretted what I would have to do next. But I had been selected captain, and I couldn't let Evril's outburst go, or Eleuterio's words. Evril! I shouted sternly, but laced with as much sympathy to his feelings as I could manage, My orders are final.
I turned to the paladin. And I don't care what they have to say. You want to hear them out? Wait 'till they're in the brig. And if you want to settle a score? Wait for the Squibs. When they're off my ship.
I turned away from them before I could see their reactions. I simply moved toward the bow of the ship and stared off toward the horizon. I couldn't see it anymore, but I felt the storm coming.
As Artevious turns away and takes his position near the bow, the breeze picks up and a light but steadily-increasing rain begins to fall, drops dashing hard onto the deck and against the hull of the Man's Promise.
Draw up the lines and hoist the mainsail! Move us away from those shoals! Get us in the clear, Mr. Seaborn!
My orders are final.
It is all I can do to contain my rage. I share a look with each of the men and women who seem to have supported my attempt at justice
Yes, Sir! Badger, Crimson! Help me get this dead weight down into the cargo hold.
After untying Syl's feet, I use the ropes at her wrists to haul the rigger up to a standing position. As I push her towards the stairs leading below decks, I lean in and whisper, "The captain has shown you mercy today, filth, but I wouldn't be making any plans..."
"Aye, Captain," Eleuterio says, following along with Master Cooper into the hold. Given the man's outburst, he didn't completely trust the Andoran not to take final vengeance upon the pirates.
The prisoners stashed away for now, guarded over by a confused but happy-to-help Owlbear, the crew of the Man's Promise gets the ship underway. The merchant ship fairly skips through the water, driven ahead of the winds; Chum watches the sky warily, because his training and connection to the winds both tell him a big blow is brewing. Indeed, as the afternoon continues, the sky darkens further and the winds howl harder, till the canvas groans on the masts and the rain seems less to be falling as much as flying entirely sideways.
With the events of the day and the harsh weather both, most of the crew get little sleep; work shifts run long, and no one is able to grab more than a few hours' rest.
The following morning barely "dawns" at all; the thick black clouds are loathe to let more than the thinnest hint of light through. At first, though, despite everyone's weariness, it seems as though the Man's Promise will weather the storm well enough. Shortly before noon, however, the actual storm arrives.
It hits with little warning. The winds suddenly become an unearthly noise, like the screams of the damned. The rain becomes an impenetrable gray sheet, making it impossible to see even the storm lanterns hanging at the bow and stern of the vessel. Waves hammer the Promise, lifting her up and tossing her about as though she were loaded dice in a Port Peril tavern.
The pounding storm lasts all that day as well, a nightmarish stretch of sound, force and relentless water. It does not let up through the night, and the exhausted skeleton crew is stretched to the breaking point as the second day of the storm approaches its end. The sky begins to lighten almost imperceptibly, the sheets of rain turning from black to gray, and in the creeping light and the split-second gaps between the whipping water, dark rocky shapes loom up out of the ocean all around.
All at once, a scream echoes across the deck. Turning to look, none of you see the source of the scream at first, but then, through the darkness and wind, you make out six grotesque shapes creeping across the deck, small figures that look like a centaur-esque cross between a goblin above and an octopus below.
Chum shouts, "Grindylows! Grindylows on the deck!"
"Aye, boarders upon larboard bulwark! Grindylows! Send 'em back to the deep, lads!" The paladin's hand moves to his blade, and prepares to draw steel.
"Make sure you kill'em, 'mates. There's not much room left in the brig," I comment bitterly as I try to separate one of the creatures from its heritage.
I hadn't quite expected my strange dream-warning to be quite so... literal. I mean, just when I began to envision the heavy weight of my long-desired goal to be a captain of a pirate ship surely robbing me of the camaraderie of the friends that I had so recently made, setting me into a figurative storm of doubts about the costs of such an elevation of stature, a very real and violent storm struck the Man's Promise.
And we were sore pressed to weather it.
I extolled my crew, shouting above the howling winds and moving from deck to deck, lending a hand here, and coordinating tasks there. I assisted Chum at the helm, turning our sturdy little ship into the oncoming waves, and riding the swells to avoid capsizing. I slid across the decks to secure lines and batten hatches. I relieved haggard and soggy crewmen and women to give them a moment's respite. I wasn't about to let my first command to go into the briny.
I couldn't be more proud of this beleaguered skeleton crew. My hat was off to all of them.
Suddenly a scream punctuated the dark and I caught a glimpse of group of creatures slithering about on the decks.
Grindylows! Chum's call had also indicated he had seen them as well, along with the others on deck, making their own comments. I slid and sloshed my way toward the nearest as I drew my rapier. I thrust at it through the murk and darkness.
Although Artevious and Evril strike as viciously as they can, the darkness and blinding rain foil their attempts to dispatch the grindylows quickly. Four of the vicious creatures turn gleefully toward them, while the others continue on to attack Chum and Eleuterio as well.
The writhing tentacles of the grindylows manage to pull both Evril and Artevious to the deck, but the darkness and rain shields them almost as much as it does the grindylows - Evril suffers only a bite and Artevious one wound from a spear . Chum and Eleuterio, for their parts, also suffer spear attacks but the tentacles cannot drag them to the deck as well.
Eleuterio grunts as the grindylow stabbed him in the leg with its spear, grimacing as the thing cackled maniacally before him. "Damnable beast!", he bellowed. "Back to the deep with you!" He slashed at the octogoblin again, and aimed a vicious slash at the neck that supported the creature's bulbous head.
Take 2!
I scramble quickly to my feet, leaving myself open briefly, but hopefully avoiding being swarmed by the tentacled monstrosities. Once standing, I take a swing at the creature that toppled me.
Both of the grindylows who stand over Evril attempt to stab him as he rises.
Both manage to catch him with their points, drawing blood. As he stands, though, he stabs back, and the first of them falls.
I ended up struck and on my face, so I pushed myself back up and thrust again at the creatures.
Chum keeps a hold of the wheel, but moves away from the creature, shielding himself with the device to some extent. Calling out to Gozreh in the storm, he thrusts his hand at the grindylow that attacked him and a short bolt of lightning flashes out.
The wind and the waves grant him the ability, but they spoil his aim this time and the bolt flies over the rail into the night.
Eleuterio's vicious blow ends the life of a second grindylow, while Chum and Artevious cannot manage to make contact with their targets. Artevious, however, suffers the same threat that Evril did as he stands: two grindylow spears stabbing down at him.
The lethal spears of the tiny creatures are as unrelenting against the captain as they were against his Andoren crewman, with one of them nearly claiming his life in one swift stab. Only barest luck spares the musketeer a punctured lung and a rapid bleed-out into death.
The four remaining grindylows continue their attacks.
Only one of the many, many blows actually finds its target, but that one is as sure and deadly as though it had had "Captain Artevious de Poisson" inscribed upon it by Pharasma's own hand. As the stricken cavalier falls, the second grindylow turns away, cackling, to instead lash out at Eleuterio, but the paladin easily defends himself, aided by the blowing rain and concealing darkness.
As the stricken cavalier falls...
Vault!
"Captain's down! Quinn! Where are you?!"
Scanning the deck for the Besmaran causes me to lose focus on my opponent. Cursing the need, I move towards Artevious' prone form.
In the darkness and howling rain, Evril sees no sign of Sandara.
Dodging and ducking around the wheel, Chum barely hears the cry of the Andoran, but hear it he does. He cannot abandon the wheel and the creature here did not seem to be done with him yet. Shouting, "Bring him to me!"
As the creature thinks his attention divided, he lashes out with the lightning again.
Once again, the elements conspire against him. He begins mouthing a prayer to the Wind and the Waves as he continues to dodge the grindylow's attacks.
Eleuterio dodges the grindylow's spear, blocking it with his shield, but only truly becomes concerned when he hears that the Captain has fallen. "Protect the wheelhouse, Master Seaborn! I'll bring the Captain to you!" He shoves the grindylow before him aside as he rushes past it, trying to find where Artevious fell.
So, assuming I can figure out where his body is at, I'll move towards him and lay on hands. At least one grindylow will get an attack on me.
Assuming I get it off this round...
Guided by prayer as much as by sight, Eleuterio staggers across the deck toward where he believes (hopes?) Artevious is. As he goes, he leaves an opening for one of the grindylows to exploit and it does, slicing him with the edge of its spear. Ignoring the wound, the paladin struggles on and finds Artevious' prone form on the deck. He reaches out a hand and the captain's bleeding slows and stops, although the wound remains deep and he does not regain consciousness. At least Eleuterio knows Artevious won't die, assuming they can drive off the sea-goblins.
Unwilling to let the paladin go, the grindylow that attacked Eleuterio follows him and stabs again; likewise, the one that laid Artevious low turns its giggling fury on the Iomedaen as well. Evril still faces one such foe, as does Chum; both of those creatures stab, bite and slash at their targets, laughing in the storm.
Chum and Eleuterio are pulled to the deck by the writhing tentacles of the grindylows - although Chum does not suffer another attack in his newly-exposed position, Eleuterio does, and another stab wound joins the one he just took.
Chum throws himself to the side in an attempt to get away from the creature. As he stands, he draws a dagger with carving of natural fauna from his boot and strikes at the grindylow.
Eleuterio soon joins Artevious upon the deck of the Promise, and winces as the two grindylows leap upon him. "Get off me!", he shouts, kicking one off as he rises to his feet again. He offers a quick prayer to Iomedae, and feels the stab wounds begin to close. "I'll cut you to pieces, you tentacle-assed bastards!"
Lay on hands myself, stand, attack!
Once again, I hack at the creature tailing me, hoping to drive it off as I move towards Artevious.
Chum, feeling that remaining on the deck will give the creature too much advantage, stands, steps back, and lets fly with his lightning again.
Chum's lightning and the grindylow's spears both miss each other in the darkness and rain. One of the grindylows misses Eleuterio, but the other manages to cut him again, undoing the healing he had just applied to himself.
Undeterred, the grindylows close and try to stab, bite and trip you all once more.
The combat seems to be wearing even on these relentless foes, however, as none manage to do any more damage, and only Evril winds up on the deck.
"Damn you horrible beasts, this is not how it will end!" Eleuterio swings his sword in a wide swath,
OK, attacking #1.
*insert vile epithets here*
"By the Vault! I've had enough of you gods-damned freaks! Get back to whatever whale carcass you were spawned in before I have your cullions for key fobs!"
I risk leaving my opponent an opening, and lash out at the beast from where I fell.
Chum draws his dagger and attacks the creature facing him.
Chum and Eleuterio still can't find their targets. Evril, however, even though he lies awkwardly on the deck, manages to stab his foe, grievously wounding it. It does not fall, however, instead cackling insanely and stabbing at him again.
Despite his positioning, though, Evril rolls and dodges out of the way of the stabbing spear and the grindylow's teeth. Likewise, Eleuterio is able to avoid the grindylow's attacks with the help of the howling wind and rain. Chum, though, is not so fortunate - a wrong step earns him another vicious stab, and his unsteady jerk away from the pain means his feet cannot support him when the grindylow's tentacles reach out to snatch at his legs. He crashes to the deck once more.
Chum lashes out with the dagger from where he is, actually throwing himself against the grindylow to deliver a vicious stab.
Growling with frustration and impotent rage, I slash wildly at the tentacled goblin, but manage only to destroy a few drops of rain.
Eleuterio grows silent, a look of contempt snarling across his face. He feinted to attack the one he'd been fighting, only to turn at the last moment and surprise the other one, sending a vicious cut towards the thing's bulbous head.
Attack #4 this time, since #1 appears to be the Grindylow God or something.
*throws dicebot across the room*
None of the heroes manage to land a blow in the darkness, but the grindylows are relentless.
Chum and Eleuterio each suffer yet another spear wound.
I attempt to stand, once again leaving myself open to an attack.