The Shackles of Freeport on the Razor Coast - DM VoV's Piratey Jaunt (Inactive)

Game Master Mark Sweetman

Iscarel breaks into a run, delighted at the prospect of trouble and awash with curiosity.

In that case, Tipene will hold the rage, but will advance defensively to start with and look for an opportunity to knock some of them down.

SM: 1d120 + 5 ⇒ (1) + 5 = 6

Uncertain how the thug suddenly teleported past his partner (and human shield), Quillin gasps and wheezes after the blow to the chest. He staggers back toward the crowds. Smudge mimics a female voice in hopes of attracting more interest. "Heeeelp! Heeeelp! Someone save me, pleeeease!"

Quillin- 0 hp, disabled, single move.

Tipene is driven to intervene and assist his gnomish companion, circling around the fight to place himself specifically between the gnome and the drugged up gingerbunch.

The second thug responds with gritted teeth "Fine... we'll do you too" stepping to the tulita with malicious intent...
Club at Tipene: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 4 + 2 = 15 for 1d6 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 + 2 = 5
...delivering a glancing blow that stings.

A few bystanders and observers begin to filter onto the field and take stock of the unfolding chaos... mostly from a position of amusement or drunken encouragement. No sign of the black-armored orcish enforcers though... yet...

Action Tracker (Round 3): Iscarel, Goon 2, Ginger, Tipene, Quillin, Goon 1, Rackham

Skirting round a corner Rackham and Iscarel see the gnome and tulita from last night engaged in affray with ginger and his lads. Thus far the pair seem to have been getting the worst of it - the gnome injured badly and the tulita just having copped a club blow.

You're within chargy distance of any of the three buggers you want to engage with.

Iscarel grins as he edges toward the crowd, eager to watch the fray, however his smile wavers as he identifies who's involved. "Vó huilen!" he curses, sighing as he pushes through into the breach. "I'm not going to let it be twice in one hour I've bet on the wrong horse. Let's see if we can't get those two out of trouble, James."

Drawing steel, he rounds on Quillin's opponent and knocks the club from his hands before tossing his own blade into the sand, ready to brawl "Come, you poxy grease-stain. Why don't you tangle with someone your own size?"

Disarm (w/weapon finesse): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (16) + 5 = 21
Stealth (if necessary): 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16

Move action: move (or charge if necessary)
Standard: disarm attempt (assuming flatfooted, otherwise I provoke)
Free action: drop item.

I don't think anybody has a weapon drawn, therefore I can't flank this round. Just a heads up. We can either stall until the guard arrive or knock them out (and promptly out of the competition).

My perception at present is that Tipene has a weapon drawn, but isn't using it.
The two thugs have weapons drawn and are not flat-footed, which means that you'll need to cop an AoO to attempt the disarm... happy to proceed on that basis?

Aye aye, cap'n!

Iscarel floods forward to join the fight, but his attempt at removing one of the thug's weapons is met by a defensive swipe...
AoO: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 4 + 2 = 21 for 1d6 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 + 2 = 6
...which numbs his forearm enough that the drug-addled thugee is able to retain a grip on his cudgel.
Up to Iscarel whether he still drops his own weapon.

The man that Iscarel attempted to disarm then sniggers, sneers and tries to bloody up the elf's cheek...
Club at Iscarel: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 4 + 2 = 16
...that the rogue is barely able to sway out of the path of.

The interest of the bystanders seems to pick up a tad more intensity as well, as ginger comes around and back to the land of sentience. Bending to retrieve his own club he takes stock and chuckles "Ye idiots made it easy fer us..." moving to an intercept course between Rackham and the fray "Think on it pretty boy... be a shame to see ye bloodied."

Action Tracker (Round 3): Iscarel, Goon 2, Ginger, Tipene, Quillin, Goon 1, Rackham

round 3
AC 17 hp:0/13

Still gasping for air, Quillin digs out an emergency scroll as he takes a step farther away from the fray and casts infernal healing on himself.

"Now, that wasn't very sporting." the elf chides, weaving between blows of the man's club and nursing his bruised elbow, preparing himself for a lethal assault. I forgot that damage taken from an AoO would subtract from my roll. Curses. If it's weapons they want though, I'll hang on to mine.

Quillin backpedals and uses his last gasp of energy to create a gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach that gives him succor.

Tipene reels with the blow and while still maintaining his balance... can't resist lashing out with his tewhatewa...
Goonstrike: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (17) + 5 = 22 for 1d6 + 2 + 2 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (5) + 2 + 2 + 1 + 1 = 11
...catching the thug in the shoulder and driving him heavily down.

The thug lashes back with a club aimed at Tipene...
Club at Tipene: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 4 + 2 = 21 for 1d6 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (1) + 2 + 2 = 5
...the accuracy of the wannabe-Pirates proving statistically astounding as another strike lands home upon the ragged and mismatched crew.

Action Tracker (Round 3): Iscarel, Goon 2, Ginger, Tipene, Quillin, Goon 1, Rackham
Action Tracker (Round 4): Iscarel, Goon 2, Ginger

Must be the grog, but a little blood sounds nice, Rackham says, drawing his blade and slashing at the smug leader.

Move action to engage--let me know if that's not good, but I figure if he moved towards me first then I could reach him with my move action.

Attack with cutlass: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (15) + 8 = 23

Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10

Rackham smiles as he draws blood, holding his sword in front of him defensively.

If Ginger attacks me I will attempt to Parry and Riposte with an AoO

Parry if attacked: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (5) + 8 = 13

If my parry is successful, I can riposte as an immediate action

Riposte, if applicable: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16

Damage: 1d6 + 4 ⇒ (5) + 4 = 9

All good Rackham - I'll update when Iscarel's actions are declared.

Iscarel will delay for now, waiting for a flank to present itself, blade at the ready. Holding out for Dex to damage and improved feint next level, I'm pretty reliant on a flank at present, especially without two weapon fighting. Also in a mapless game this is a bit harder to nut out, so whether I have a window is up to GM discretion.

In general use this theory:
First round of engagement = likely no flank
Second + round of engagement = Flank is assumed as long as there are two friendlies in combat and no extenuating reason.

So in this case - it's you and Tipene and Rackham all mixing it up, and it's open terrain... so flank away.

Sounds good to me.

Spotting an opening, the elf drives his blade home, grinning viciously as he leaves a deep puncture wound just shy of the man's heart.

Sneak Attack vs. Thug threatening Quillin: 1d20 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 6 + 2 = 27
Confirm: 1d20 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 6 + 2 = 27
Damage + Sneak Attack: 3d6 ⇒ (6, 2, 4) = 12

Rackham opens up ginger with a chest slash that begins to turn his jerkin well crimson, while Iscarel goes one better and abandons the near-pirate before him to savage the one facing off against Tipene. His blade tears through the man's upper core and spills guts and more unto the pavement. Until now the kerfuffle might've been able to be passed off as a disagreement... but judging by the pitious mewling of the recently gutted man, and the fact he's not moving much... Iscarel's just killed him. The bystanders cries both fade and intensify in the aftermath, those well cut calling for more blood... and those more sober mentally backing away a tad.

The last two bastards don't seem to be giving up the fight though - nostrils flaring further as bloodshot eyes stare daggers and hoarse throats cry bloody murder.

The thug bypassed by Iscarel rounds on him for another swing...
Club at Iscarel: 1d20 + 4 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 4 + 2 = 25 for 1d6 + 2 + 2 ⇒ (5) + 2 + 2 = 9
...taking the rogue in the lower ribcage and cracking at least a couple as he does so.

While Ginger unloads on Rackham...
Club at Rackham: 1d20 + 7 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 7 + 2 = 28 for 1d6 + 3 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 3 + 2 = 11
...a ferocious blow crunching into the man's sternum, blowing air from his core and leaving him gasping for breath.

Action Tracker (Round 4): Iscarel, Goon 2, Ginger, Tipene, Quillin, Goon 1, Rackham

I've noticed not everyone has 2nd level HP on their profile... so if you don't, please make it so.

My mistake. That blow leaves Iscarel staggered at 0/15 hp.

Ears ringing, Iscarel still manages to catch a sound on the wind. "Don't look now, but I think we're downwind of a few dozen armored orcs."

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (18) + 6 = 24

Bek had lost track of the others vying for the captain's favor in the festival crowds, but thought he caught the telltale murmur of excitement about a brewing fight. Pausing, he tried to get an idea of where it might be.
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12

round 4
AC 17, hp: 2/13

perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (2) + 5 = 7

Quillin finds a bloodthirsty grin appearing on his face as his little diversion appears to have blown up into a full-on bloodbath. He waves Smudge to lay off his crowing and defend him. Then with hellish fire glinting in his eyes as it reinvigorates him, the gnome retreats a little ways farther from the melee pulling a little candle and bag from a pocket in his well-stocked coat to begin a summoning spell.

Quillin's act is noted - I'll get Bek an answer in the next big round up - and just need Rackham's intent before I roll round to the next round... which should make things 'complicated'.

Huh, huuuuh Rackham coughs, smiling at Ginger despite the pain.

Thought you'd run off, now that you don't have the numbers on your side, you cony-catching poltroon!

Oh yeah, I busted out the pirate insult dictionary I DLed for Skull and Shackles. Don't judge.

The young sailor swings his blade again but can't strike an accurate blow as he gasps for air, ready to deflect the leader's attack.

Attack: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (5) + 10 = 15

Parry attempt (0 panache left): 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (15) + 10 = 25

immediate action riposte if successful parry: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (4) + 10 = 14

Quillin withdraws a few more steps and begins uttering to a higher power as Rackham tries in vain to score ginger's skin.

There's a pending action for Tipene as well - I've delayed him onto Round 5

One singular development draws all of your attention... arriving bustling through the scraggly crowd is a pair of black-armored orcs with cudgels in hand. Squinted eyes pick up that the cudgels have already seen use today... and recently. The piggish orc eyes take in the scene splayed out before them... and one of them bellows "Pack it in! Drop your blades and take a knee!"

Ginger and the only other goon still breathing and on his feet hesitate and glance between one another... but no overt move is made... yet.

Bek is late to the party - shouldering his way ill-temperedly through the ring of watchers at the tail end of proceedings.

Action Tracker (Round 5): Tipene, Iscarel, Goon 2, Ginger, Orcish Bouncers, Tipene, Quillin, Rackham, Bek

Quillin drops his spell immediately looking innocent while Smudge continues flapping about in agitation.

bluff: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (19) + 3 = 22

hee-hee!

Sense Motive: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (7) + 5 = 12

Iscarel's vicious intent is clear by the look in his eyes, but while his malice doesn't give out, his body does. The force of the head wound hitting him suddenly, he staggers backwards, blade slipping from his hand, and fumbles at his belt for a potion, knees beginning to buckle. "Shut that bird up or we'll be starting the Mad Dash a little early..." Iscarel says in a harsh whisper, wiping the blood from his split brow.

5 ft. step, draw potion of cure light wounds.

I know it's poor form to leave my intentions open-ended but it's hard to get a feel for the table without the proverbial table. I can drop my weapon as a free action if it's going to spare me a beating, but if I can drink my potion I'll happily make a break for it next round. I'm immobilized as long as I'm staggered though. Rather than sit paralysed with indecision I thought I'd just get my post in. Bluff (Aid Another): 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (10) + 6 = 16

DC 15 Perception from way back: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (6) + 7 = 13
DC 20 Perception: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

Untrained DC 15 Sense Motive: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 1 = 21

Tipene addresses the wavering thug as he drops to one knee. "Give it up, fool!"

Untrained Intimidate check: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (10) + 2 = 12

Tipene and Iscarel's lean towards obeyance has an impact upon the others on the field as ginger's friend drops his club and goes groundwards in a heartbeat. Ginger holds out for a beat or two longer sub-vocally growling and narrowing his eyes as though he was going to make an attempt to fight on... before dropping his club as well. As he goes to a knee he points out the retreating gnome and petulantly quotes "P1ssing fae started it." but is silenced by a withering glance.

The two orcs move forward to own the field, one singling out Quillin with a raised club and snarled "Come here you" while also passing his gaze towards Rackham to make sure he didn't have any fight left in him.

The second orc raises his voice to yell at the crowd "Any of you feckers saw anything can stay... otherwise get your feet moving away" leering with intent.

We're potentially out of combat rounds - but it's pending whether Quillin and Rackham submit to the situation (as in stay of arms and on to the talking bit).
For clarity, these orcs are in an official constabulatory role of keeping the 'peace'.

Quillin calls Smudge back to perch on his hat and ambles forward. "I saw the whole thing, Officer. This bunch of goons snorting something back there. I still see the tin back in the alley. I'd take a look at that. They were crazy! Came rushing right at me. Sure, I defended myself, but didn't hurt anyone. That one nearly killed me!" he opens his shirt to reveal a purple bruise slowly healing. "Lucky thing I had a mending spell or I'd be a goner. They're a danger, I tell you. Out of their minds on drugs! Lock 'me up. I don't feel safe."

not a false word said there. And ginger wouldn't have seen anything except a blinding light.

Cure Light Wounds: 1d8 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 1 = 8

Iscarel chokes down his healing potion, biting his tongue for now.

Smudge adds his two squawks in Draconic.
"Hide your kids! Hide your wife! They rapin' everybody out here!"

run tell DAT!

Rackham backs away from the ginger, dropping his sword into the dirt and taking a knee.

I come up and it was those four Rackham motions to the four enemies fighting those two, with the elf stepping in to help even the odds. I did the same, once he James points to the ginger tried to get me to back off. We're all trying to get hired onto Captain Lanteri's crew, and these four cravens so an easy chance to thin out the herd.

So glad I don't have to lie!

Having heard the orcs trying to move the crowd away and figuring that he counts as crowd right now, Bek decides to lurk at the edges and wait for the right moment to join the rest of the crew.

"I also saw them taking the drugs, and fled. When they attacked the gnome I came back to help him."

The orc on crowd control is having a decent effect... especially once a dwarf lingers a few moments longer and ends up with some bludgeoning assistance to send him on his way. Bek's still got a vantage... but before too long he'll need to make a choice to step either forward or back. No one has stood up to name themselves a witness to the events though.

Quillin's retelling of events is told with a skilfull degree of false passion, but Rackham's quoting of four combatants on the other side is cut through a tad by the fact that one's gutted and a second is passed out insensate. The other would-be-pirate professes "Feckin lies, first thing that happened was the bloody gnome hittin us wi' some flash."

The other orc sneers and scoffs before pointing at the dead man on the ground with a sword wound through the guts "Dead man there... means all you bastards need to see the Sheriff. You all walking or want to be dragged?" Ginger starts to protest before the orc cuffs him heavily on the neck with his cudgel... quelling any protest and leaving him coughing and heaving. The orc peers down the alley to where Quillin spoke of the drug tin... but doesn't go to retrieve it at the moment, more intent on seeing proof of further compliance.

Quillin moves quickly to avoid any more ugliness. "Smudge, you want to point out Exhibit A so's the good deputy can find it."

The parrot flutters a short distance from the evidence hopping up and down to attract attention. "Here it is! Lookie here! Yaaark!"

Tipene stands and glares at the last pirate to speak. "Was that before you tried to run me down? I do not think so." He follows the orcs.

With compliance given by the not-yet-but-potentially-acting-like crew, the orcs round up the snuff box discarded by ginger and his lads before pushing you onwards before them. Ginger is made to drag his slain companion, and the glares of anger coming off the man makes you think he's taken it a mite personal-like. The other applicant helps the last one laid low by Quillin's radiance to hit feet and shoulders arms with him stumbling on.

Choice time for Bek - does he ingratiate, or stand distant?

As you walk ginger and his mate's breathing gets a mite erratic and their skin pales. Sweats and a case of the shivers become evident, but the orcs have no compassion or care - driving the lot of you on.

Thankfully it's only a short drive through town - the worst of the gawkers kept away by the fact you hear the Mad Dash getting started in the background - roars and laughter filtering through the streets and alleys. Your destination is a squat building near to the centre of town with high windows and featureless walls. Thrust inside the two groups are segregated into different converted private rooms - stripped of your weapons first of course, and left to mull with the door closed and locked behind them.

The room you get sequestered into is wooden walled and has a couple of closed in high shuttered windows out of direct reach - though there is a table and paired bench seats within. The muffled sounds from outside the room suggest that if you keep your voices to a low-ish ebb you should be able to maintain confidence.

Unless you decide to attempt different, they're going to strip you of all obvious weapons.
Pregnant pause to see if you want to get stories aligned or try anything else before the Sherrif rolls in.

"I hope you're pleased. Now we're going to miss the competition." the elf says, sullenly. "Next time I may let them brain you."

As terrible an idea as it might be, is there still time to slip away? I was rather looking forward to the obstacle course.

You could make the attempt on the transition across to the makeshift jail - that might still get you to the Mad Dash in time.

I was thinking the same thing, Iscarel. The obstacle course sounds cool, but if we run from the guards and get caught it could be really bad.

James looks at Iscarel during the march to the jail and raises his eyebrows.

Bluff, Diversion to Hide: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (13) + 9 = 22
Acrobatics if moving through threatened squares: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (10) + 9 = 19
Stealth: 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (17) + 8 = 25

"You're right. Sod this. We have a race to win." the elf says glancing down a nearby alleyway. Sailmakers. Perfect. Picking an opportune moment, he lets his nigh-empty coinpurse drop onto the cobbles. "Damn! That's three months wages, you poxy curs!"

A glance downward at the sound of coin is all the elf needs to elbow his way into the tight squeeze and of sight, ready to make a mad dash for the Mad Dash at the first opportunity.

Assuming we're acting on initiative here and that we'd pass suitable cover and concealment, I've just invented something appropriate, I hope that's alright. No action listed for the "Create a Diversion" use of Bluff, so I'm assuming standard then a move to slip into concealment and hide. If the bluff check fails he'll take the acrobatics check and leg it with his Run feat.

Unfortunately for Iscarel, the black armored orcs shepherding the would be crew are attentive and alert - and aren't taken all the way in by his ruse. Flashing through his mind he wonders if an attempt to flee from the orcs after having killed a man to run towards a location where it's likely some of the orc's compatriots are keeping the peace was wise... but the die was cast, and the situation was to unfold regardless.

Iscarel is able to extricate himself from the group and into a side alley - but it's under the watching eyes of the orcs. One of the orcs hefts his club towards the rest of his charges "Any of you feckers move and you won't be walking after we're done with ye." as the second begins to stalk off after the fleeing Iscarel.

Ginger eyes off the dropped purse, as the moment slows enough to give others a means of defining their intent...

Quasi initiative here - as in I'd like for statements of intent from all before proceeding with the denoument and continuation.

Bek follows as distantly as he can while still keeping an eye on the crew. If he sees Iscarel's escape attempt, he tries to anticipate the direction the elf is taking and looks to see if the others will follow.
Perception: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (14) + 5 = 19

So is there only one orc with us and one following Iscarel? Because if that's the case I plan to make a run for it in a different direction, bit ultimately try to get to the Mad Dash if I can lose them.

Correct - the manner in which the situation appears to be playing out (at least initially) is for one orc to stay with the pack, and one to follow Iscarel.

Quillin takes note of his sweating rivals. "Coming down are you, Pumpkin? You shouldn't do stuff like that. You know your body is a temple..." He chuckles to himself and makes sure to stay near the guards and out of the others' reach.

The gnome raises his long tapering blue eyebrows when his mate slips away, but keeps quiet and watches for now.

Ginger sneers at Quillin before smirking "Your friend there ran... makes him good as guilty... look forward to seein him in a necklace..." reaching for the dropped purse.

Rackham - are you intending to scarper the other way? - if I can get a statement of intent from Tipene then I can split to the next step.

Yep, I'm going to take off, trying to navigate through a crowded area if possible to lose him.

Ginger... reach(es) for the dropped purse.

"Whose friend? I'm just a bystander standing by is all." Quillin calls the guard's attention to Ginjy's move. "Hey, you just gonna let him pocket that gold, I mean, evidence?"

Bek is waiting to see if anyone other than Iscarel takes off...once Rackham goes, he's going to see what happens with the rest.

The orc that remained with the group looks to Quillin to bark "Quiet you..." before Rackham takes advantage of the momentary distraction and flees in the opposite direction from Iscarel... making it two fugitives from justice in the wind. The orc growls under his breath "For fecks sake..." before fishing out a whistle from a pocket and blowing a sharp retort - three short blasts followed by a long one. One hand still holding his club he bellows at the remainder of his captives "Let me make this fecking clear... ye run... we catch you... you drink your meals through a fecking straw after - savvy?"

Ginger and his two remaining lads make no attempt to move off, smugness returning to ginger's face as the competition give the orcs all the more reason to think the would-be-crew were the antagonists at play. His pocketing of the fairly empty purse appears to have gone unnoticed given the distraction.

In the distance you hear two or three short blasts on similar whistles from other parts of Lilywhite.