|The Many-Faced GM|
As Sandman surges through the mud and grime, several pairs of bulbous eyes surface and begin watching.
Fargrim and Baltzar win initiative and go before the frogs.
Sandman: 1d20 ⇒ 14
Nivian: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (8) + 3 = 11
Johara: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13
Fargrim: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (16) + 4 = 20
Baltzar: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 2 = 19
Giant Frogs: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (13) + 1 = 14
The roll20 map has been updated.
Fargrim glares at the eyes. "Don't know what they are, but I'm not waiting to find out!" He takes a step forward to the edge of the mud, stretching out his dorn-dergar in the process. He lashes out at the creature watching from the mud.
Attack: 1d20 + 7 - 2 ⇒ (17) + 7 - 2 = 22 +2 if Aquatic or Water subtype.
Damage: 1d10 + 4 + 6 ⇒ (2) + 4 + 6 = 12 +2 if Aquatic of Water subtype.
Free Action - 5' step. Move Action - Change dorn dergar to Reach mode. Standard Action - Attack #1 w/ Power Attack.
Baltzar adjusts her blouse and casts Mage Armor.
|The Many-Faced GM|
Fargrim's chain whacks a giant frog hard in the head and it submerges into the muck. One of the other frogs turns it's head and shoots it's tongue at the dwarf, but the sticky tongue fails to latch on to the slippery dwarf. The last frog launches it's tongue at Nivian but misses her completely.
Player's Turn - Round 2
Tongue Grab (touch) on Fargrim: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22
Tongue Grab (touch) on Nivian: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8
Grapple on Fargrim: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8
The roll20 map has been updated.
Am I stuck in the mud or something? Is it difficult terrain? Entangled? I know we tried to cross it in various ways but the fact wading through the mud took a strenght check makes me belief I can't simply stand up and move somewhere...
Well, in that case, since I still got it prepped...
Nivian steps a bit to the side, with great effort, then attempts to let a cascade of colors flow over the 2 frogs she can see.
Color Spray, DC 15 Will. I say "try" because I don't know if either of them threatens at range. I do expect I would already eat an AoO from the move action to step a field to the right, if so.
Fargrim takes a step partially into the muddy muck to reach another frog with his weapon!
Fargrim's actions with depend on the results of the Color Spray. If #3 fails his Will save, then Fargrim will simply coup de grace it; however, if it passes its save, then Fargrim will attack.
Coup de Grace: 2d10 + 8 + 12 ⇒ (7, 1) + 8 + 12 = 28 +4 if aquatic/water subtype
Attack: 1d20 + 7 - 2 ⇒ (15) + 7 - 2 = 20 +2 if Aquatic/Water subtype
Damage: 1d10 + 4 + 6 ⇒ (4) + 4 + 6 = 14 +2 if Aquatic/Water subtype
Sandman pushes forward a little more and waves his hand angrily at the Frogs.
If one of the frogs makes the save on the Color Spray, I'm hitting them with Slumber Hex
|The Many-Faced GM|
As Nivian pushes her way through the muck, both of the remaining frogs launch their tongues in her direction. Both tongues strike her but one rolls off covered in the swamp mud that had previously occupied her face. The other connects to her arm and sticks and the frog tries to pull her closer.
Nivian is grappled by frog #3 and needs to succeed at a DC 18 concentration check to get the spell off. If successful, both frogs will be neutralized for 8 rounds.
Frog #2 AoO: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (12) + 3 = 15
Frog #3 AoO: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (18) + 3 = 21
Frog #2 Grapple: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8
Frog #3 Grapple: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (18) + 7 = 25
Frog #2 Will save: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (13) - 1 = 12
Frog #3 Will save: 1d20 - 1 ⇒ (9) - 1 = 8
Unconscious: 2d4 ⇒ (1, 4) = 5
Blinded: 1d4 ⇒ 2
Concentration DC 18: 1d20 + 4 + 4 ⇒ (11) + 4 + 4 = 19
Having half-expected the tongues to lash out at her again, Nivian focuses her mind and completes the necessary gestures, being as water herself, fluid, not offering hard resistance that would test her strenght, but twisting in a way that allows her to continue her spell.
Seeing both Frogs go limp, she adds: "If I want a tongue doing things with my body, I'll send for a cabin girl!", as she cleans her arm where the frog had taken hold.
|The Many-Faced GM|
The frogs fall unconscious yet the one's tongue remains stuck to Nivian's arm. They are quickly dispatched though and the third never resurfaces.
Inside the giant tent are rotting human remains, a huge pile of filthy clothes, and a vast bed of moldering cushions at the base of the tree. Clouds of flies dance above the decay. Scattered among the revealing clothes are a potion in a leather hip flask depicting a crocodile, three very sharp, oft-used daggers (one of which is masterwork), a chest containing six flasks of alchemist's fire, two barrels of very cheap perfume, a wedding dress inlaid with pearls and a set of three tiny rubies, a whalebone corset set with mother of pearl inlays, a dozen silver hatpins set with tiny obsidians, and scattered gems. The scattered gems total 315 gp and 7 sp.
The hip flask is worth 25 gp.
The two barrels of perfume are worth 25 gp each.
The wedding dress inlaid with pearls and rubies is worth 400 gp.
The whalebone corset is worth 20 gp.
The silver hatpins are worth 5 gp each.
The potion is a cure moderate wounds potion.
It takes about another half day of exploring to declare the island safe from abnormal threats.
The island is clear of encounters and now yours. Congrats.
Appraise: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (8) + 6 = 14
Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (9) + 7 = 16
"Hmm... not sure what all of this is, although the perfume is pretty... ugh. The wedding dress is nice, though. So is the corset."
Appraise: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21
Perception: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (19) + 9 = 28
"Some of this stuff is plenty valuable...and that's a moderately powerful healing draught. I suggest we save the potion for when it's needed, and plunder everything else."
Nivian shares what she learned with the others. Having been on a pirate vessel forcibly for long enough, she had developed a certain knowledge and instinct when it came to plunder and loot, and it seemed to pay off, now.
Still got the sunken ship and the giant eel, don't we? But yay for having taken possession of our own island! ;)
"Do you still intend on trying to tame the eel?" Sandman said, pulling himself slowly free of the mud.
"I doubt we have time enough to tame it, but we may be able to convince it to let us take a look around that wreck. If we mean to get our ship redone to make her unrecognizable, not just repaired, we need anything of value we can find. Worth a shot.", Nivian explains, looking over the valuables again, "Also, it won't take long, and we'll need to wait for flood to set sail, anyway, with all the reefs around the island."
Adding the check right here, so we don't waste time moving there and chatting more about it with precious little for others to do. I would offer some choice bit of octogoblin-meat as fooder, too.
Sea Creature Empathy: 1d20 + 2 + 4 ⇒ (20) + 2 + 4 = 26
If that is sufficient, I would then carefully inspect the floor at/around the wreck, taking 10 for 21, except if certain areas look suspicious, in which case I would take 20 for 31 there
"Indeed. One more, then away with the tide." Sandman grinned.
GM, I think we're ready to move on to Nivian's attempt to tame the eel.
|The Many-Faced GM|
Nivian's swim out to the ship wreck is quick, but worrisome. She knows that the others will have a difficult time coming to her aid if things go wrong. Luckily for her, the giant moray eel has recently fed. As Nivian carefully approaches, the eel becomes curious and emerges from the wreck, all 16 feet of it. It moves gracefully through the water and must not see Nivian as a threat because it moves right up swims around her playfully.
Nivian's search of the shipwreck yields nothing of value, but the sea floor hides many trinkets; three bottles of Chelish perform remain sealed and unbroken, a pair of chopsticks made from manticore spikes, three wax-sealed clay ewers containing the ashes of the Infernus's last three captains, their carved names now worn away by the waves, and a small lock box with the lock still in tact.
The perfume is 15 gp each.
The chop sticks are 15 gp.
The ashes have no direct value.
The lock box contains 500 gp stamped with a Chelish sign.
The giant moray eel is now considered friendly!
Appraise: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20
"Some interesting trade goods there, Nivian! The perfume is not bad. The sticks are carved and lacquered manticore spikes, an interesting artistic curiosity with some value just for their unusual materials."
Letting the others take a closer look at the trinkets found, Nivian spends her time with the Moray Eel.
She HAD hoped...what did she hope for? For riches that would pay for whatever needed to be done to the Covenant to make it THEIR ship.
What she found was not satisfactory, but certainly, it's better than nothing.
The Eel was, as it's brethren, a territorial creature. Unless they would extensively modify the hull, there was no way for the creature to come with them in a sensible way. But making sure that it would remember it's friends, if they came back to the island, that would be important.
One by one, Nivian introduces the Moray Eel and the others.
When it was time to eat, Nivian rejoined the others:"Interesting, sure. But not the haul I had hoped for, Johara. I don't think this will pay our bill at the drydock. I think those chop sticks would actually work well as hair sticks. And I think they would fit you. Why don't you try them on?"
Nivian also makes sure to provide some more food to the Moray Eel, if it wants to eat, too, before spending some more time in the water before they are to depart for the ship.
Sandman was impressed. "Are you planning on taking the eel with you? Or will it stay here?"
Fargrim looks at the locked box with a frown (did we find any keys anywhere? I cannot recall.) and shakes it. "Any of you lot good with locks? If not, I'm sure dorn-dergar can make quick work of it!"
I need to come up with a good name for my dorn-dergar... my brain is dead currently... any good suggestions?
Johara spends a while fiddling with the box, but is unable to get it open.
Take 20 gives a Disable Device total of 27.
"I'm sorry, this lock is too complicated for me," she says apologetically. "Maybe if I had better tools and magical help..."
"The eel will stay, for now. If we intend for it to come with us, we would need to create a mobile home for it, at the bottom of our ship. Not a bad idea, but that would need extensive modifications."
Watching Johara fumble with the lock, she speaks up:"You are full of surprises. I did not even know you could do that. We'll get you proper tools as soon as we can. For now...", her gaze finds Fargrim:"...it seems that Fargrims Skullsmasher gets a chance to make the lockbox comply. Lets hope there's not more perfume in there. Or anything brittle."
Sorry, not usually good with names, either ;)
"Just a hobby, really... my owner loved puzzle-boxes and even had a clockwork swan, back in Qadira. I fear I'm not really very practiced at it," says Johara apologetically.
"No more talk of Owners." Sandman said gently to Johara, his face suddenly going grim. "You were a captive. That's all. No one can own another. Not without consent."
Johara narrows her eyes and says, "In that case, you can't tell me what to do. Chew on that paradox." Then she winks.
Nivian feels compelled to speak up on the topic: "I was owned. I was not simply a captive. I mean Plugg, he just took us captive. You can't know what it's like to be enslaved, Sandy. Not without having been there."
Looking at Johara, raising her hand to touch the young womans cheek, she continues:"No more though. We are free. And I fully intend to hunt the bastard down and make him suffer. Everybody deals in their own way with these things. If you enjoyed the puzzles, we will go to Qadira, and fetch that Clockwork Swan. And we're not asking for it, we're taking it."
"I'd prefer to go forward rather than back. There's no reason for me to return to Qadira any more," says Johara. "Let's get ready for our next venture on the seas!"
"Pity. I was really curious about that Clockwork Swan, too...", Nivian smiles, then laughs heartily. "Ever forward, to new horizons. When the tide comes, we leave!"
"I have been there." Sandman said simply. "And you are right. I cannot tell you what to do."
Fargrim pondered what the others spoke of for a moment, wondering what it meant to be truly free. No stuffy, rigid rules and esoteric traditions that dictated how he should act and what he should do. Where he should live. Whom he should hate. Whom he should love... He glances at Johara and blushes before quickly glancing away... Even after leaving the mountains behind with his uncle, he still had to follow his uncle's direction...
But now... he could make his own choices, decide his own fate. Initially he had thought to get back to his uncle somehow, but now...
Suddenly Fargrim grins and begins laughing, a giddy cackle almost. It takes several moments before it subsides and he shares a look with his companions. "Sorry, but I've never been free before either. I may not have physically been a slave like you all, but I was a slave to ancient, out-dated traditions." He rubs his hand over the short cropped beard. "No more! Now, come, let us enjoy this night!"
"Don't mind me, Sandman. I'm just playing. I wonder what tomorrow will bring? More sea air, no doubt, but also a free spirit. That's hard to suppress," says Johara. "Let's dance and dine and sleep and dream and then it's off to another day with an unknown horizon!"
Sandman chuckled. "Well said."
Aaaaand scene. GM, I think we are ready to move on. Want to push us forward?
|The Many-Faced GM|
The lockbox is mostly metal with decorate wood. Both have deteriorated from the salt water over the years but the locks remains in much better shape. DC 15 Strength check to break the box. You just don't get the nice lock then.
With the island theirs and spirits higher than they had been since any of them could remember, the pirates made their way back to the ship. Their mood infectious, they are welcomed back aboard with broad smiles and loud cheers. The celebration is short lived as orders are barked out and the vessel is made ready. Something in the water seems to follow the ship out at first but quickly disappears as more distance is put between the ship and the Bonewrack Isle.
Three days of fair weather and easy sailing land our intrepid adventures rounding the tall headland off the Slithering Coast, revealing a hidden cove at the mouth of a wide jungle river, its sluggish brown waters staining the waters of the blue sea like an ugly bruise. A series of docks has been built upon this estuary, with buildings concealed beneath the overhanging limbs of the jungle beyond. A wooden watchtower stands upon the promontory of the headland, carefully concealed among the trees to provide a clandestine view of the seas.
As the pirate's ship pulls past the headland, a checkered flag of yellow and red is raised above the tower on the promontory, and an answering flag of blue is hoisted upon a yardarm at the docks ahead. A number of humanoid figures emerge from the shaded buildings and gather on a pier. Soon, a small, single-masted longboat sets out from the boathouse on the estuary heading to meet the on-coming pirate ship and once close enough, the crew hail larger vessel.
"Weigh anchor to discuss terms, or we'll fire on ye' and send ye' down to the locker."
"Weigh Anchor!" Sandman barked to the crew.
Leaning over the rail to address the smaller ship, he said "As you can see, we're in need of repairs We also have a few goods to trade. Are we in the right place?"
Do we wait and find someone that can open the chest? Or should Fargrim smash it?
Strength check: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (8) + 5 = 13 Just in case we smash it
If I can get a +1 bonus (guidance?) and masterwork tools, I can open it if I have time to take 20.
When they depart from their very own island, and the shape follows them out a bit, Nivian makes sure to have some choice meat bits thrown into the water, as a way of saying goodbye to their new friend. I assume we took on provisions on the island, Water, fruits(coconuts), the crab meat, maybe there was wild livestock from the settlement somewhere, or the frogs...I simply assume we have some meat for this purpose, which would spoil quickly anyway
Take 10 Profession (Sailor) to know the meaning of the flags.: 10 + 9 + 1 = 20 Assume I get Guidance or an Assist
Knowledge(Local) to know some name/who runs the place: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (12) + 6 = 18
Diplomacy: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (20) + 8 = 28
"Is **** still in charge? We can discuss terms shouting out here - but I am certain we come to an agreement, so would much prefer working out the details over a bottle of drink.", Nivian adds, after ordering the sails reefed(as opposed to striking them) and turning the Covenant sideways to the wind (allowing her to be stopped by anchor, but making it easy to either progress towards the dockyards, or run if needed...)
Johara shouts from behind Nivian, "And we wanna spend some money and get drunk!"
Aid diplomacy: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (11) + 12 = 23
That should push Nivian's Diplomacy check to 30.
|The Many-Faced GM|
A roar of laughter and cheers erupts from the longboat as shouts of "here here" can be heard above the hustle and bustle of the crew as the Covenant tacks hard before the anchor is dropped.
"Quiet down you louts" an older gentleman orders. "Aye, yous be in the right place. Permission to come aboard?" he calls back.
The flags were signaling that a boat (yours) was approaching.
Sandman glanced over to Nivian. They hadn't quite worked out how they would decide who was going to act as captain when meeting new people, but given her skills at diplomacy she seemed like the right choice at the moment.
"Captain? What do you say?" he asked her.
Wanted to let Baltzar speak up, or Fargrim. I figure whoever posts first is fine, but we should try and share spotlight time a bit :)
Nivian is surprised for a moment, but does not let it show. She knew this place, knew a name or two of who had run it in the past - a long life of travel meant one picked up a thing or two -...it seemed logical that Sandman would allow her the lead in negotiations with them...therefore, she follows up on her previous statement: "Permission to come aboard granted. You'll need to take a good look to assess the damage, anyway. The sooner, the better. Because I sure hope that later, we're all drunk, if your offer leaves us coin to spend on drink!"
Most of these hidden ports willing to do work on stolen ships, and thats clearly what this was, were all the same. A whole bunch of lawless visitors from all over the Inner Sea, kept docile and from slitting each others throats by copious amounts of rum. Sure, there was trade to be had, and things to be bought...but mainly, these ports were places to spend your share of the loot, on drinks and companions, then get your ship fixed up, hire up new crew from those who whored and drunk away their last share, and set sail again.
Showing a willingness to part with a good amount of what plunder and money they had certainly would work in the Covenants favor.
|The Many-Faced GM|
Several able-bodied men climb aboard followed by a short, stoop-backed old man with a leathery, weatherworn face; watery blue eyes, and a halo of frizzy white hair. The older man slowly walks around the ship, fingers tracing the railing while he mutters to himself. His retinue stays where they are as he makes his way about the ship.
"I'm Rickety Hake. 2,000 gp. That's what'll cost me to squib it and I can do it in less than a week. I also do other refitting, smuggling compartments and whatnot, but let's see how much cash ya gots, and then we can sees about getting drunk."
Time: 1d4 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 = 5
Fargrim honestly wouldn't have much to say in this instance. He knows where he's good and where he's not. Diplomacy is not his forte.
Fargrim watches and listens, ready to spring to action should the need arise.
We have a whole crew of people, on a Rahadoumi ship, with plenty people not looking like Rahadoumi, and some that may be known(e.g. Fishguts), so I don't think it will stay a secret for long...otherwise I would not be so open on what happened.
In other words: I think somebody will spill the beans in the next few days, over too much drink. Doing it ourselves right now may raise some respect for us/make us more infamous around here.
Nivian watches the old man walk around, muttering to himself. An old sea-dog, no doubt. One who saw many people come and go, heared many names. Nivian decided to take a risk and play it straight: "2000 seems fair. Alas, Captain Harridan has not seen fit to provide this vessel with a lot in the way of funds before we aquired it for our own use. Meant to sell it off, or some such. We disagreed, and now here we are, without the shark food meant to whip us into obedience. We have little in coins, but some plunder we could sell off, to hopefully raise the money you ask for...AND get drunk. If we come up short, I am certain we could cut a deal agreeable for all of us."
Nivian had been, for just a moment, tempted to try and have Harridan pay their bill for them. But that would have been stupid, falling apart once the crew had land-leave and would try hard to replicate the swaying floor beneath their feet with abundant amounts of rum.
Matter of fact, it seemed sensible to her to find out how the old geezer would react to this information right here, where they could still turn the ship around and run, rather than learn that he and Harridan were drinking buddies when their ship was in a drydock, and them trapped on the outpost.