Tresmeer takes the crossbow and bolts .
He grunts at the storm brewing, and gets back to the practical problems.
"P'raps Conall or Bran cun use dis?" He says as much to himself.
Then he searches through the sacks and hold for rope. "If'n we 'ave to make shelter den we need may rope. Ship should 'ave rope everywhere. Where be dere bledy rope? 'Un sails. I cun fashion summat wiv dat."
Two sacks he rips open, empties the contents and then fills with the wet barrel wood. "Jess need te dry it, den us'll 'ave a foire."
Still with one eye on the approaching storm , Healaugh hunts for materials to construct a sling for Tresmeer.
"One of me skills is netmaking," he comments. "Can make you a good sling if I can find stuff. Is there aught in that chest d'you think?"
He eyes the crossbow and bolts hopefully. "Wonder if I could get the hang of those?" he ponders.
"Yum a 'Alfling cun you open 'im?" pointing at the chest. May 'ave maps and stuff fer good use. P'haps us'll be able to force 'im open wiv rocks or dat dagger?"
all halflings are thieves and rogues.
"Aw food."
Tresmeer prepares to stagger back with the two sacks of wood. He hasn't given up hope of finding rope and a sail for a shelter for Conall. He will search the hold thoroughly.
Healaugh looks thoughtfully at Tresmeer.
Now why would he think I can open a chest? Of course, "all halflings are thieves". That's an old one.
"Can try." he says, kneeling beside the chest and looking carefully at the lock.
Sibhán blushes faintly at Bran's curious question. "I am.. was.. wisewoman of my village" She explains quietly. The families that didn't trust me are probably working out the best solution to replace me as we speak. "I have some connection with the Earthmother, if the community has problems She usually provides a solution"
Smiling weakly at her own words she stares at the overcast sky with a shiver. "What did you do? Before..?" She asks, her eyes returning to the group, including Conall and Melisana in her question.
Healaugh finds that the chest is not in fact locked, whilst Tresmeer draws a blank at trying to find sailcloth. The mast has snapped and blown down, and the ship's sails are nowhere to be seen in the vicinity.
Melisana says in reply to the other woman's question, "I'm learning my father's trade, that of a merchant, as well as captaining a ship of my own one day, I hope."
Healaugh opens the chest and cautiously explores the contents.
"Tis cursed luck us havin' 'ere. No sail. No rope. What 'as chest got? Me bet is fur a set of cups un plates to eat an' drink what doesn't 'ave!" Tresmeer waits for the halfling with his two sacks.
Within the chest the halfling fisherman finds what he takes to be the captain's log (written in a language he doesn't understand), navigational charts and two scrolls, again written in a language beyond his comprehension.
1d20+3 ?¨ [16,3] = (19) (to understand navigational charts)
Healaugh carefully picks up the charts, scrolls and log. Even if he can't read the writing, maybe one of the others will be able to. The charts are a good find, he's confident he can use those, assuming they can find or make a seaworthy vessel.
"Think our luck's turning a bit" he says to Tresmeer, clutching their new found bounty.
Healaugh
Healaugh pauses to look at the charts.
"Tresmeer", he says, "let's get back to the others. I think I know where we were going, even if I don't know where we are. Scum were headed for Pandira. Looks like they have a stronghold there."
"Pandira? Tis a pirate fort? Dennik be a long way fur us to go now." He smoothes his beard, grabs the sacks and crossbow and trudges back to the rest with Healaugh.
"Not as far as Caftenor" mumbles Healaugh under his breath as he runs to keep up with Tresmeer.
"Captain of your own ship?" Siobhán repeats quietly, obviously a little impressed at Melisana's plans for life. "I always thought the closest I'd get to meeting a captain would be in the reading of books" She adds a little wistfully, trying to keep the mood amongst the survivors as light as possible.
Spotting Tresmeer and Healaugh leave the remnants of the ship she looks hopefully in their direction. "Find anything of any use?"
"Deed we do." pants the halfling. "Charts. Should help us if we can find a boat."
He looks up at the sky again. "No cover though and storm coming's as bad as I've ever seen. How's brave lad coming?"
With that he sits down beside the rest of their little band, suddenly remembering
"Oh - found these too. No good to me. Can any of you read 'em?" and he pushes the log and scrolls towards the others.
"We didn't find no rope. We didn't find no sails fur shelter either. Bain't much luck 'ere fur us anyways." Tresmeer shouts as he approaches.
He lifts both arms a little, slowing for the halfling as he does this. "Got some wet wood fur what dat's worth. Tain't much," smiles the farmer.
"Healaugh found summat else, but tis written in furrin words."
"Cun anyone use one of these?" he lifts the crossbow and bolts.
"Wet wood may not start a fire but can be used to build shelter" Siobhán replies certainly to Tresmeer's words before kneeling beside the halfling and looking over the offered papers. "If I can't read them right away I should be able to deceipher them given time" She informs the group gently as she scans the writing "But somewhere safe to rest should be our priority.." she adds, mostly for her own benefit to stop herself getting engrossed in the mystery of the papers.
"I reckon us should go inland, find a little wood or cave an' hole up. Tis the storm that'll kill us all if'n we stay roind 'ere."
"Mebbe we could take turns t'carry this 'ere chap?"
"The wood be barrel staves. Aint got much length fur a shelter.Or we finds a deep cave near 'ere on coast."
"I reckon go inland meself but what do 'ee all think?"
"Inland is the most sensible course of action" She agrees with a nod.
"And Conall doesn't need carrying, as long as we walk at a considerate pace his wound won't get any worse and he can walk with us." She adds at the suggestion of taking it in turns carrying the wounded man. "Although the decision is yours Conall, I mean no disrespect, we will of course support you if you don't feel strong enough to walk under your own power.." She adds briskly, not wanting to cause offence to anyone.
Healaugh nods approvingly at this plan, but adds a word of warning. "I tells you, this isn't a storm like I've ever seen. Cave, not trees I'm thinking."
Tucking the charts into his trousers, he heads inland with his usual lack of foresight looking for likely shelter.
It had taken some time to properly get himself together, besides with how much he was in pain he couldn't do much to help in this situation, but he'd get better. After the few minutes of the young man and the halfling being in the boat he was feeling a little more like himself.
"I'll be fine to walk and besides if you get too far ahead i'll find you.. I'm good at tracking and when i'm feeling a little healthier i'll see what I can do about finding some food for us." Glancing at the sky he thought about how strange the storm did seem.
"But yes getting shelter is the most important but we'll not want to go too far in without knowing what's out there."
Hearing Conall's words, Healaugh stops his headlong gallop inland and returns to the main group.
"Daft fool that I am" he says ruefully. "Was thinking I knew better got me into this mess in first place. Best we stay together."
"We're not going to get ahead of you" Siobhán assures Conall quietly, agreeing with Healaugh's sentiment "We'll find shelter together and I can forage for food for us, you'll just have to worry about healing"
Slowly a curious expression form on her face. "But I must ask, you're good at tracking? Were.. Are you a hunter?"
Melisana takes the crossbow and bolt case. "I don't like violence, but I know how to handle one of these. Useful on board ship." she says by way of explanation.
Healaugh looks at their companion with fresh interest.
"Sail do you?", he asks. "How did you get caught then?"
"I be glad that you cun use this 'ere crossbow. Shall us go now. Healaugh 'ow long afore dat storm hits?"
Tresmeer looks around. "I'll keep to the back in case of anyone gettin' lost or ...wonderin' off like before."
He looks back at the broken parts of the slaver ship and smiles, "Well us baint slaves an'that tis bright an' good."
"Someone else should keep an' eye up in front."
Bran listens to Siobahn's answer that she was wisewoman and that Melisana wishes to be a merchant captain of her own vessel. While he is taking all this in Healaugh and Tessemer come out of the ship with some items.
'I will take the front position staying ahead of the group. Say can anyone else use this dagger?' he says as he offers the dagger up.
'I assume that Conall, Siobahn and Melisana are staying in the middle then? Healaugh would you stay toward the front with me. I have heard that Halfling's have keen sense and perhaps you will be able to spot something if I miss it.'
Motley group indeed. Shepherd, fisherman, wisewoman, merchant's daughter, and our hurt friend. I should have been one the injured, it was my choice to attack Hafkris not his. he thinks as he readies himself for the longmarch ahead.
"I'll take the knife until Conall is fit to weild it, he's proven he's a far more capable fighter than I already" Siobhán announces certainly before taking the dagger from Bran, wanting to make sure the man who had dealt the solid blow to Hafkris with a chunk of wood would have a weapon once he was fit again.
Healaugh joins Bran at the front of the group as they make their way inland. Keeping his vaunted halfling eyes open, he checks for signs that the storm is imminent.
Spot for anything useful in the way of shelter 1d20+5 ?¨ [3,5] = (8)
- obviously really, really distracted.
Melisana falls back to talk to Healaugh briefly, "Well, let's just say I walked down the wrong dark alley in town one day. Pretty much the same as the rest of you; they saw an easy mark and gave me knock to the head."
"Huh, stupid like me", Healaugh grins up at the girl, taking the edge off his words. "Best we fools stick together and help each other."
"What's your tale, lad?", asks Healaugh, jogging up to Bran.
Tresmeer scans left and right as he follows a few feet behind Siobhan and Conall.
"Jess so yum be in the know, I cun 'elp 'ealin' 'im. I know'd animals a bit an' 'ave seen one ur two bad uns along dere way. How dey grab you den, Siobhan? Yum doan look loik no drinker."
"I was a lumberjack in the Forests on Highport. Some years back a pirate raid came into the town as me and the other men were coming back. I rallied with some of the other local worker and we fought them back. I lost my father in the raid and began to train with the town milita. Thats how know how use these." he waves the longsword he is carrying. "Like the rest of you I was abducted after leaving a tarven and having some drinks with my crew. Next thing I know I was in that slave barge with the rest of you. It would seem the pirates have learned from their mistake of an open raid and have choosen a more concealed method of getting their slaves." he says with some tripedation.
Healaugh scowls. "Can't be good whatever they're doing. Sea scum. I hate 'em. Really hate 'em. Wish there was some way of finishing 'em for good."
Slowing her pace a little to walk beside Tresmeer for a while Siobhán smiles thankfully. "Any help is a blessing. I usually work alone so an extra pair of hands to help in the healing process will be a real novelty" She states simply with an almost nostalgic smile, she hadn't worked alongside another healer since her adoptive mother.
"But don't let appearances fool you, I'm not a heavy drinker but it doesn't mean I never do! I wasn't suffering from the drink when they caught me though, I was returning home after helping tend to a sick child in the village and quite exhausted, I was just looking forward to curling up under the covers and going to sleep but then there was the rustling in the bushes and the hit to the back of the head.. and waking up with the rest of you"
"Yum a 'ealer and dey grabbed 'Ee. Dem buggers! Yurn a fine one and dat lady dere, dey gunna get what fur when me catch up to 'um. I'll, I'll...
...taint right is all." finishes the moorwalker tamely.
As he walks he keeps an eye out for the dark of a good fold in the land or even a cave for the party to rest in.
Siobhán regards Tresmeer with gentle eyes as he speaks, a soft smile on her face. "It's not right that any of us are here, but we have to make the best of the hand the Earthmother dealt us. We'll pull through this I'm sure, and Melisana will be back to her family, and everyone else to theirs, in no time." Looking over the landscape for somewhere for them to rest she gives a light sigh.
"Got no family, meself, less'n sheep count?" Tresmeer looks away briefly.
"Anyways us'll be in trouble we out proper rest fur Conal an' food un drink fur all. Dreckly should be all nice an' praper an' then us'll be foine."
The farmer unconsciously strokes his beard as he talks.
"Really?" Siobhán replies, her mild suprise evident in her tone "I wonder if the others are the same, save Melisana, maybe they tried to get people without families for the most part.." She mused aloud as she contemplated the pirates' motives, was this a simple slaving outfit or was it something more?
"Will your sheep be alright? Is there anyone who can care for them whilst your making your way home?" She asks in a concerned tone before realising that her line of questioning really isn't helping the situation at hand. "Sorry, sometimes I think too much." She confesses with a mild blush, her eyes trailling over the landscape.
"Food shouldn't be too much of a problem though, I mostly forage and grow my own vegetables to support myself back home. I'm sure given some time I can find some nuts, or berries.. maybe some mushrooms"
Healaugh nods at Siobhan's words. "I'm a fisherman. We won't starve."
He thinks a moment. "I've kin. Always been more of a one for sea than people though. Happen it'll be a time before they spot I'm not there. I've sailed long from choice often enough."
You head towards the western edge of the bay, making your way over the low cliffs. And it is here that you can get your first look at the island. It's not a good look.
The view is dim from the overcast skies and blurred by rain, but you can make out a few details. The island is very, very hilly . Looking across the island, you can see that the highest and most forbidding hills are westward, running the entire length of the island from south to north.
Northward, is broken terrain, passable but not easy going, you reckon. Eastward, the terrain seems to flatten out a little bit. Even that is still hilly and broken, however, an no sign of human habitation can be seen in any direction.
"Not good. Anyone see cover?" asks Healaugh.
1d20+5 ?¨ [16,5] = (21)
Healaugh can't see anything from here that looks like it might offer cover.
"No."
Tresmeer spends a while staring at the terrain. He pulls up some grass and throws it into the wind and kicks at a tussock or two.
"If'n I wus livin' 'ere then I'd be on the best land. The land eastwards looks the easier fur Conall too. I'd be sayin' less go dere if'n no one 'as the truth of it. I be jess guessin' though."
Tresmeer (and anyone else who beats the DC)
http://invisiblecastle.com/roller/view/1527548/
"Reckon Tresmeer's right. Going east looks like our best choice. Storms coming up from norwest." agrees the halfling.
"What be 'appenin' with this 'ere storm?"
Healaugh looks at the sky and trys to calculate how long they have before the storm hits them.
- which was a lovely surprise and my first natural 20 ever