indigoreeds Razor Shackles Playground (Inactive)

Game Master yogadragon

Maps and Pictures Link



Gameplay Thread!


Male M Half-Orc Inquisitor (Sacred Slayer) 6|Current AC: 19 AC Base: 19 T 12 FF 15 | HP 56/56 | F +10 R +7 W +10 | CMD 19 | Init +4 | Perc +11 | Spells: Level 1 5/5 Level 2 4/4 Inquisitor 6

Yarrr!


F Animal Companion 6|Current AC: 24 AC Base: 24 T 15 FF 19 | HP 34/34 | F +5 R +10 W +4 | CMD 23 | Init +5 | Perc +2

Chomp!


"Give me freedom or give me the rope. For I shall not take the shackles that subjugate the poor to uphold the rich."

Days dragged into nights, lost in a hazy twilight fever and the dark nausea of the rolling waves. Outside, the winds howled from an unearthly squall that had seized the Vindicator, a Chelaxian brigantine, spraying the face your face to half-delirious consciousness. For half a moment, you thought you spied sails and the outline of a fearsome ship amidst the driving rain and crashing waves, but it vanished in the storm-lashed sea just as a huge wave violently rocked the hull, sending you flying into a nearby beam and the release of unconsciousness once more.

You awoke to the sounds of rushing water, only to see that you were still shackled and the hull was filling with seawater. Around you, you could barely make out the thrashing sounds of drowning men. A few tugs at your metal locks did nothing but send dull pain through your wrists. The water continued to rise, finally covering your face, and there were several long moments of rising panic, gasping for air and feeling the oxygen bleed from your lungs. Your thrashing grew weaker, and with a final prayer to the Pirate Queen, you drifted into oblivion.

You felt your body, like a fish on a distant fishing line far away in the deeps, pulled further away, and wondered if this must be what the afterlife was like.

You awaken to the feeling of being hauled bodily face-down over wet sand. You weakly gaze upward, to see a familiar long-necked creature with long spines and serrated teeth, gently pulling you up a beach. You cough and sputter, vomiting out a good amount of briny sea water, and your loyal companion Kelpie releases you. It takes a few moments to sort yourself proper, but you finally manage to rise to your knees and survey your situation.

You find yourself on a long, deserted beach, which continues less than a hundred feet before disappearing into thick jungle overgrowth. The jungle gradually rises to a large peak of rock, maybe another quarter-mile away. The sun is high in the sky, with no sign of the sudden storm or the wreckage of your ship. You have no idea how long you've been out, but judging by the dull feeling in your stomach, it's been a while since your last meal.

Your hands are still locked together in iron manacles about your wrists, but the chain holding the manacles to the beam appears to have been rent asunder. On the upside, you can still feel the small dagger you had hidden in your boot...

You are fatigued, and have taken 12 points of nonlethal damage. What do you do?


Male M Half-Orc Inquisitor (Sacred Slayer) 6|Current AC: 19 AC Base: 19 T 12 FF 15 | HP 56/56 | F +10 R +7 W +10 | CMD 19 | Init +4 | Perc +11 | Spells: Level 1 5/5 Level 2 4/4 Inquisitor 6

First thing's first, we need to roll hit points. Below are my 6d8. I will take your roll on anything 4 or below, and keep anything 5 or above.

Hit Points: 6d8 ⇒ (4, 3, 8, 8, 4, 7) = 34

So looks like I need 3 hit point rolls from you

Jack stands, wraps his arms around Kelpie in a warm embrace.

Ahoy Kelpie! I assumed you had been killed and sent to the deeps along with our ship and crew! Shoulda known that a you were tougher than that.

Jack turns to survey the beach upon which he is stranded, stretching his muscles, sore from being confined too long as he does so.

Oi, Besmara sure has a hellava way of helping a guy out. So, stranded on a desert island, eh? First things first... gotta survive, then find a way off, then plant a dagger in Harrigan's back...

I can't currently cast spells, correct? I have no divine focus, and the hands in manacles is probably a problem for spells with somatic components?

Jack will peer as far down the beach in each direction as he can, looking for signs of wreckage from the boat, other boats that might belong to natives of the island, other survivors, fires, interesting geographical features (such as a lagoon, or tide pools that might be easier to catch fish in) or really anything else notable. He'll also keep an eye out for anything he can eat as they travel (maybe some crabs burrowed under the sand or something like that?) He'll also look for an piece of driftwood of an appropriate size to attempt to carve a holy symbol later when they camp.

Perception: 1d20 + 13 ⇒ (10) + 13 = 23
Survival to find food as they travel: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (20) + 7 = 27

He'll keep head out in whichever direction seems most promising for finding some food, a safe place to sleep and / or some supplies that might have washed up on shore. I'll keep an eye out for tracks as I travel.

Best get moving there Kelpie. Besmara doesn't often give out second chances, and I won't be meeting her on the other side having to explain why I wasted this boon she has given me

Jack and Kelpie set off along the beach. The manacles clink softly as they travel, and Jack sings a sea chanty under his breath as they walk.


F Animal Companion 6|Current AC: 24 AC Base: 24 T 15 FF 19 | HP 34/34 | F +5 R +10 W +4 | CMD 23 | Init +5 | Perc +2

Hit Points: 5d8 ⇒ (2, 2, 8, 7, 8) = 27

Same story as with Jack - I'll take your roll on anything 4 or under. Looks like we only need two rolls for Kelpie.


HP - Jack:
HP: 3d8 ⇒ (7, 5, 6) = 18

HP - Kelpie:
HP: 2d8 ⇒ (3, 1) = 4

Nothing but the cold wind greets your words, but you have the distinct sense that Queen Bes would give a smile to your words were she here...

You begin to softly sing an old rowing shanty of the black brethren:

Oh we'd be all right... if the wind was in our sails, we'd be all right if the wind was in our sails. We'd be aaaall right if the wind was in our sails, and we'll all hang on to be hung...

And we'll rooooow the old chariot along. We'll roooow the old, chariot along. We'll roooooow the old chariot along, and we'll all hang on to be hung...

Oh we'd be aaaall right... if we make it round the storm.
Oh we'd be aaaall right... if we make it round the storm.
Oh we'd be all right if we make it round the horn. ANd we'll all hang on to be hung.

And we'll roooow the old chariot along. We'll roooooow the old chariot along. We'll rooooow the old chariot along. And we'll roooooooow the old chariot along... and we'll all hang on to be hung...

Jack rolls a skill check: Perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (13) + 12 = 25


A glint of silver catches your eye on the high noon sun, and investigating closer you see it is the silver edge of your holy symbol, attached round a silver necklace. You figured you'd lost it in the confusion, but it must have washed ashore as well.
Though you'll have to wait to call upon the Pirate Queen's favor until tomorrow morning.

Looking round down the beach, it stretches clearly in both directions out of sight, its nearly pristine sands only dotted here and there by driftwood. No other wreckage, no ships, no survivors. Out to sea, there is no sign of any wreckage, though you reckon whatever remains of the ship can't be too far away on the ocean shelf. And behind you is the inland jungle, a tangle of dense undergrowth rising up the side of a large crag of rock.

You walk down the beach a short ways, stopping occasionally to peer for tracks. You don't see sign of any mammal tracks, but you do find the familiar marks of the common sandcrab; with your trusty knife you're able to hunt 3 of them. You peer again at the inland and spy the rim of a second bluff, rising in the distance and also standing at a steep angle, almost like a crown of some sort...

Your reverie is broken as Kelpie huffs behind you and casts a look towards you and the crab corpses you're holding. Overhead, the sun is starting to feel a little oppressive, and the relative comfort of the shade or the sea start to look more and more appealing.


Male M Half-Orc Inquisitor (Sacred Slayer) 6|Current AC: 19 AC Base: 19 T 12 FF 15 | HP 56/56 | F +10 R +7 W +10 | CMD 19 | Init +4 | Perc +11 | Spells: Level 1 5/5 Level 2 4/4 Inquisitor 6

Jack walks over to the holy symbol buried in the sand.

Besmara really must want Harrigan dead if she’s giving me this much help.
He raises the silver jolly roger to the sky and continues, Well, I won’t let you down, even if I have to swim off this island.

He stands for a moment, wiping sweat from his brow as the sun beats down on him. The chains clink softly, and brush against his chin as he does so, reminding him that he still isn’t free of the bonds of the Chelaxians. Jack turns to his loyal companion,

Well looks like there’s not much for us on this beach. Let’s go get some take a rest in the shade and figure out our next move.

Jack and Kelpie turn and head to the jungle. Staying near the treeline, they find a shaded area to sit. Jack drops the crabs he is carrying and begins using his knife to dig the meat out of the crabs. He hears Kelpie’s sorrowful moan and looks up.

What, you didn’t eat before rescuing me? And now you expect me to share my crab with you? Ugh, fine. Here you go. Jack jokes in a sarcastic tone, before tossing one of the crabs to the companion, which crunches in her jaws as she happily devours it. Jack works hungrily, extracting as much of the meat from the crab as he can, gagging slightly on the raw meat as he forces the sustenance down. Once he has finished with his meal, such as it was, Jack turns to his manacles.

Well, lets see what can do about these… He sets to work attempting to open the lock with his knife, talking to Kelpie as he works.

Did I ever tell you the story of the first time I was stranded on an island? Treacherous crew abandoned me and left me for dead on some island back when I was a lad of 17. I’d been pirating for half a decade already. I had just signed on to a new ship - the Exsanguinated Knave. Yea, you heard me right. Dumb name for a ship, I know. Captain was a weird fellow. Fancied himself a necromancer or blood mage or some such nonsense. I’m pretty sure there wasn’t a magic bone in his body.

Anyways, we stopped off at an out of the way island, south west of Raptor Island. We had buried some plunder there that we wanted to recover before heading back to port. We weighed anchor off shore and boarded the jolly boats to travel to shore. While the landing party was digging up the treasure, we caught site of some natives of the island. We hadn’t realized the island was occupied, and drew steel ready to face their attack. Our captain approached them and parlayed with their leader. Luckily for us, we happened upon what must be the only friendly tribe in the entire shackles. They spoke a broken, out of date version of polyglot, but it was enough to get by. Ended up doing a bit of trade with em’. Rum and good steel for gold and gems and exotic hides from their island. Turned out pretty…crap! Jack’s story telling cadence is broken as the knife slips and almost slices his hand open. He adjusts his grip on the knife, and gets back to work, resuming his story.

They invited us for a feast at their village, and threw quite the party. Fish, fruits, some sort of exotic meat from their island. Me, being a lad of 17 with more bravado than sense

Kelpie lets out what one could consider a laugh, if mbole-mkele could laugh, and if Kelpie could understand the story, as to indicate she still believes Jack to have more bravado than sense.

Hey, quiet you or no more crab! Anyways, there was an enchanting young woman there. Caught my eye. Beauty like you wouldn’t believe. And she had the most spectacular medallion – a gold spider inlaid with rubies. Gorgeous. Haven’t seen the like of it ever again. For which I suppose I should be thankful. We enjoyed a brief but intense courtship over the next few hours, before retiring to her hut while the party raged outside.
Jack stops, and examines the lock for a moment. Having made no progress at all, he decides to try a different tactic. He sheathes the knife in his boot, and finds the two largest rocks he can. He rests the lock on one and raises the other over his head to attempt to break the lock.

BANG

I woke in the morning with the worst hangover I’ve ever experienced before or since. I was alone in the bed, so I arose to take a look around when I heard whispering outside. I heard hushed whispering outside. Couldn’t hear much of what they were saying, but I caught a few words.

‘Sacrifice’.

BANG

‘Appease’.

BANG

‘Outsider’.

BANG

‘Destroyer’.

I listened a bit longer as my predicament became clear, I looked around the hut again, in the light of day and sober and realized what a mistake I had made. These natives worshipped some bastardized version of Rovagug, and they meant to sacrifice me to their god.

BANG

I’ve never run into that no good a%+@&!+ captain again, but I’m certain he bartered my life away make peace with the natives. I quietly slipped out the window, and made my way into the jungle. I made it to the beach as the last jolly boat as the made it’s way back to the ship.

BANG

I called for help, but the bastards just laughed and waved as they docked with the ship and raised anchor. I hid out on that island for two weeks before I found an opportunity to steal one of the native’s fishing boats and get off of that cursed island…

BANG

The rock striking the metal rings out one last time before Jack lets it drop to the ground.

Guess these are staying on for the time being…

After failing to remove his shackles, Jack will rise and being searching for a suitable place to set up camp. He’ll keep an eye out for any fruit or other such edible things as he searches.

Jack is taking 20 on disable device to try to get out of the manacles, which he cannot succeed on even with the lowest quality lock. Then he’ll try to break the lock with a rock, which he cannot currently break the harness of the lock, so this is also futile. After this he will continue to look for food, as well as a place to eventually camp. Some where guarded on as many sides as possible. He’ll keep an eye out for tracks of other humanoids or predators as he goes, electing to avoid camping in any areas with such features. Unless something else happens before it starts to get dark, he will go ahead and attempt to rest for the night.


The shade of the treeline is a welcome respite from the blistering humidity, and you quickly set to work carving up the crabs, giving one to your companion and hungrily slurping at the soft wet meat of the crab's innards from its carapace. Kelpie happily munches on her crab, then circles and digs herself a spot in the sand to curl down in as you set to work against your bonds.
After hammering and picking at your shackles for the better part of an hour to no avail, you finally drop the rock to the sand with a thud and begin looking about for a place to set up camp. The sun has crept down the horizon in the intervening hours, casting long shadows down the trees at the jungle's edge. You probably have an hour or two remaining before the island is cast into total darkness.

Jack rolls a skill check:Perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (20) + 12 = 32

You're just pondering whether to make camp a bit more inland or finding somewhere along the beach when in the distance, from the direction of the interior, you hear a distinctive low booming sound, as if from something mechanical. It is followed by several long moments of silence and you begin to wonder if it was in your head, when you hear it again, a very faint rumbling followed by a boom. Maybe a siege engine of some sort, though it's hard to tell from such a distance.

Kelpie raises her head from the sand to regard you, sensing your change in body language, and trills at you inquisitively. As you stand up, a queasy feeling in your stomach greets you.

Fortitude save: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (1) + 9 = 10

It appears raw crab didn't agree with you... you begin violently retching into the sand for several minutes before you finally feel your nausea subside to a dull discomfort. Your mouth is equal parts parched and putrid, and you idly ponder how many fingers you'd give in this moment for a proper cup of drink.
You are briefly nauseated, and sickened until you can properly rest.


Male M Half-Orc Inquisitor (Sacred Slayer) 6|Current AC: 19 AC Base: 19 T 12 FF 15 | HP 56/56 | F +10 R +7 W +10 | CMD 19 | Init +4 | Perc +11 | Spells: Level 1 5/5 Level 2 4/4 Inquisitor 6

As Jack is giving up on removing the shackles for the night, he hears the loud boom. He cranes his neck to look in the direction of the sound.

Looks like we're not alone here Kelpie. Something to look in to tomorrow... He trails off as he begins to retch and vomit up the crab he had just eaten. After recovering a bit, he stands and readies himself to make camp for the night.

Jack will go ahead and camp just inside the jungle. He'll try to find a defensible location that is blocked on as many sides as possible (maybe a little ravine or cave, or hollowed out tree, or just an area with especially think undergrowth on a few sides and will spend the rest of the time before night attempting to make his camp a little more secure. Dragging brush and whatnot in the approach paths to make it difficult and conceal it, maybe stacking some rocks that will topple and serve as a crude alarm if someone approaches. If there are any vines around he will string them across any approach paths to serve as tripwires and hopefully slow down anyone approaching the camp. Once preparations are made best he can and darkness falls, Jack will go ahead and attempt to get some sleep.

Survival to prepare the camp, sickened: 1d20 + 7 - 2 ⇒ (13) + 7 - 2 = 18


You drag the bleached driftwood timbers together into a crude, makeshift fort as the sun dips below the horizon, then lug some scattered rocks up the beach. You drag some vines down from a nearby tree and loop it around the camp. Finally, after surveying your work and deeming it acceptable, you settle into your crude nest and try to fall asleep.

Your dreams are fraught. You dream about a beautiful seaside city, sinking into the sea. Inside the city is a chamber with a lustrous pearl the size of your head, being enchanted by strange-looking learned men with purple eyes. The men and the chamber fade away into mist but the pearl remains, and you see it drift about along an oceanic floor before falling into the maw of a large mollusk. When it reopens its mouth, the pearl has changed shape, now appearing as a figurine of a dashing female pirate, which bears an uncanny resemblance to the Black Lady herself.

You awaken the following morning in a cold sweat despite the damp heat, though whether its the work of the dream or the residual of uncooked crab is unclear. The morning sun pierces down through the jungle in spots, and your stomach feels a bit more settled.


Male M Half-Orc Inquisitor (Sacred Slayer) 6|Current AC: 19 AC Base: 19 T 12 FF 15 | HP 56/56 | F +10 R +7 W +10 | CMD 19 | Init +4 | Perc +11 | Spells: Level 1 5/5 Level 2 4/4 Inquisitor 6

Jack wakes up, feeling stiff, but better, though slightly disconcerted by odd dreams. He rubs his sore muscles and scratches Kelpie on the head as he stands. Without speaking, Jack clutches his holy symbol in his hand. He walks to the very edge of the jungle so he has a clear view of the ocean. He kneels, closes his eyes and begins praying to Besmara.

[ooc]Does jack recognize any of the symbolism in his dream from his previous learning about Besmara? Or is it a strange mishmash of images, as far as he has encountered previously? Perhaps some version of the legend of how Besmara came to be a god?[/ooc?]

An hour later, Jack rises, filled with renewed hope, having been able to commune with his god after a long absence.

Alright, lets do something about these manacles. he says to kelpie, still lounging in their makeshift camp. He closes mutters a prayer to Besmara while clutching his holy symbol.

CL Check, DC 16: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (18) + 9 = 27

After casting his spell, Jacks calls on his connection with Kelpie, and his pupils narrow, becoming yellowish and bestial, while his muscles bulge slightly. Jack picks up his rock, and once again begins slamming it into the lock. With each blow, the lock becomes more dented and haggard, until finally its mechanism fails and the lock pops open.

Yahahahah!

Jack shouts in victory as the lock fails, and sets to work breaking the other one before his magic fails. A few moments later, he is free of the manacles. Now free, but still famished, Jack sets about searching for some food. Fruit, edible bugs, whatever he can find.

Survival: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (8) + 7 = 15

After an hour or two of that, Jack will set to exploring the island.

Well Kelpie, guess we better see what we can find on this island. Maybe whoever made that loud boom earlier has a boat...

Jack will set off in the direction that he heard the loud noise coming from.


As you awaken, your head is still swimming with the dream. You vaguely remember something about cities disappearing beneath the sea involving a pirate tale you once heard in a tavern, many years ago. But you were too sloshed to remember any details, and history was never your strong suit anyway.

Knowledge:Local: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (19) + 5 = 24

But that statuette, that triggers some memories...
You distinctly recall, early in your career, when you were being instructed by Father Peg-Leg in Port Peril in the ways of the faith (such as it is), him telling you of such a statuette:

"Tis a sight to behold, lad," he'd say in his gravelly voice, "One of the holy relics that Queen Bes left to us, kept safe in her sacred temple on Besmara's Throne. A pearl, pure and true, as large as a man's skull and solid throughout, fashioned into a little figure in Her own image, shaped by Her very hand after'n uncoverin' it from its watery rest. It has powerful magics, even more so for us who follow true the Code. Magics perhaps one day I'll teach ya." He scowls and adjusts his eye patch. Now then, story time's over. Show me your cantrips again, boy!"

You are brought back to the present once more, your gaze cast down to your shackles.

You utter a short prayer to the Black Lady, and power surges through you. The manacles fall away into the dirt, and the soreness about your wrists begins to diminish. After a brief celebration, you scavenge again for more sustenance. This time, you are able to find a stumpy coconut tree with two green coconuts, as well as another sand crab; certainly enough to feed yourself and Kelpie, at least for now. With your knife at your side and a few supplies in hand, and the temperature rising with every passing minute to a swelter, you set forth into the jungle...

The going is especially slow, both for the rugged terrain overgrown with vegetation, as well as the swarming biting insects that seem to gather in greater and greater numbers to bite and sting you. You run across very old boar tracks in the damp soil at one point, but they quickly and suddenly disappear. After more than an hour travel, you have only begun to reach the foothills of the craggy rock around which you heard the sound. Overhead, the thick foliage blots out the sun, casting the undergrowth into shadow.

Perception: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (18) + 12 = 30

Somewhere up ahead, out of sight, you hear a low tock-tock-tock sound. You perk your ears, and on the edge of hearing you can make out an unsettling combination of clicking, tapping, and drumming coming from the jungle all around you. It doesn't sound like anything you've heard before, but it makes you uneasy all the same.


Male M Half-Orc Inquisitor (Sacred Slayer) 6|Current AC: 19 AC Base: 19 T 12 FF 15 | HP 56/56 | F +10 R +7 W +10 | CMD 19 | Init +4 | Perc +11 | Spells: Level 1 5/5 Level 2 4/4 Inquisitor 6

Upon discovering the coconuts, Jack will take a few minutes to crack open one of the coconuts. The milk inside is sweet, providing much needed sustenance. He'll carve the flesh out of the coconut with his knife, and devour it hungrily. He considers eating the crab, but after yesterday, and still with no way to make a fire, elects to toss it to Kelpie instead.

Jack swats and curses at insects as he traverses the jungle. He ponders the dream he had as he walks.

Odd dreams last night. Bad reaction to the raw crab perhaps? I've certainly had strange dreams before, but usually after a night of hard drinking or other indulgence... I seem to have Besmara's favor at the moment though. Do these mean more?

His thoughts are interrupted by the low tock-tock-tock sound from ahead. As he stops to listen, he also hears drumming from all around him in the jungle.

I think we be getting close to whatever made those loud booms yesterday lass. Sounds like we may not be alone either...

Jack pauses, kneels down, and utters another prayer to Besmara.

Casting Heroism first, and heightened awareness if the first casting doesn't trigger anything. Both have 10 minute / level duration. Net +4 to perception and knowledge checks, and +2 on all other skills, saves, and attacks. If neither of those elicit a response, I'll cast Honeyed Tongue

After his casting is complete, he whispers to his companion

Well, lets hope that the natives are friendly...

Then he will stand, with arms outstretched to show he has no weapons, and speak loudly to the jungle.

Greetings! I am Captain Jack Escalara! I'm not looking for trouble- I've been stranded on this island.

Active Effects:
Heroism: +2 morale to skills, saves, attack rolls (70 minutes)
Heightened Awareness: +2 competence to knowledge and perception(70 minutes)
Honeyed Tongue: Roll twice on diplomacy and take better result (70 minutes)


Greetings! I am Captain Jack Escalara! I'm not looking for trouble- I've been stranded on this island.

Your call is met with only the continual tock-tock'ing, with a mixture of chittering clicks and drumming.
Perception: 1d20 + 16 ⇒ (4) + 16 = 20

You see no sign of the source of these strange noises, as they seem to diminish as you approach them, sometimes picking up in an altogether different direction. The only one that seems constant is the steady tock-tock-tock from somewhere up ahead.


Male M Half-Orc Inquisitor (Sacred Slayer) 6|Current AC: 19 AC Base: 19 T 12 FF 15 | HP 56/56 | F +10 R +7 W +10 | CMD 19 | Init +4 | Perc +11 | Spells: Level 1 5/5 Level 2 4/4 Inquisitor 6

I'll cast comprehend languages and repeat my call, seeing if the chittering and clicks is some sort of creature speaking in a language I don't understand. And I'll repeat my call

You have nothing to fear from me! Might we parlay?

If the comprehend languages and second call don't provoke any sort of different response from the creatures making the sounds, Jack and Kelpie press on, deeper in the jungle towards the tock tock tock.

Active Effects:
Heroism: +2 morale to skills, saves, attack rolls (70 minutes)
Heightened Awareness: +2 competence to knowledge and perception(70 minutes)
Honeyed Tongue: Roll twice on diplomacy and take better result (70 minutes)
Comprehend Languages (70 minutes)


You have nothing to fear from me! Might we parlay?

The comprehension magic at first seems to fail; the sounds around you do not turn to intelligible speech. But after a moment or two, you notice a threatening tone to the sounds that was not there before. Your call seems to do nothing more than increase the chittering and clicking momentarily.

You continue forward, and just as you approach a small shaded clearing, the tock-tock-tock'ing stops...

Perception: 1d20 + 14 ⇒ (12) + 14 = 26

You catch a glimpse of a large brownish-orange hue to the undergrowth ahead, but are distracted from further study as a hail of small sharpened sticks fly down from the canopy.

Attack Roll: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (12) + 4 = 16 misses Kelpie!
Attack Roll: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14 misses Kelpie!
Attack Roll: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (17) + 4 = 21 hits Jack! Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 2
Attack Roll: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (14) + 4 = 18 hits Jack! Damage: 1d4 ⇒ 3
Attack Roll: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (10) + 4 = 14 misses Jack!

Roll for initiative. I will see if I can figure out a battle map

Jack Escalara wrote:

I'll cast comprehend languages and repeat my call, seeing if the chittering and clicks is some sort of creature speaking in a language I don't understand. And I'll repeat my call

You have nothing to fear from me! Might we parlay?

If the comprehend languages and second call don't provoke any sort of different response from the creatures making the sounds, Jack and Kelpie press on, deeper in the jungle towards the tock tock tock.

Active Effects:
Heroism: +2 morale to skills, saves, attack rolls (70 minutes)
Heightened Awareness: +2 competence to knowledge and perception(70 minutes)
Honeyed Tongue: Roll twice on diplomacy and take better result (70 minutes)
Comprehend Languages (70 minutes)


Male M Half-Orc Inquisitor (Sacred Slayer) 6|Current AC: 19 AC Base: 19 T 12 FF 15 | HP 56/56 | F +10 R +7 W +10 | CMD 19 | Init +4 | Perc +11 | Spells: Level 1 5/5 Level 2 4/4 Inquisitor 6

Initiative: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (3) + 4 = 7

Treacherous curs! Kelpie, lets return their hospitality in kind!

I put a map with tokens for Kelpie and myself in the slideshow linked above, if you want to do that. Otherwise, maybe we can just get together on skype /roll20 and run the whole combat at one time tonight or tomorrow.


Initiative: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (7) + 2 = 9

Initiative: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17

Following the hail of miniature javelins, a short green humanoid creature covered in leaves, moss, and fungus hops down from the trees above. His fists grasp claws of sharpened bone, and despite his size he chitters at you menacingly. In the trees above, you can see five others of his kind, climbing about the canopy and throwing another volley of arrows.

Attack roll: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (9) + 2 = 11 miss
Attack roll: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14 miss
Attack roll: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (12) + 2 = 14 miss
Attack roll: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (3) + 2 = 5 miss
Attack roll: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (6) + 2 = 8 miss


Male M Half-Orc Inquisitor (Sacred Slayer) 6|Current AC: 19 AC Base: 19 T 12 FF 15 | HP 56/56 | F +10 R +7 W +10 | CMD 19 | Init +4 | Perc +11 | Spells: Level 1 5/5 Level 2 4/4 Inquisitor 6

Jack leaps into action, drawing his dagger and holding it in a reverse grip as he dashes forward, dodging spears as he moves. Jack shouts several quick commands to Kelpie, who darts to the side to distract while Jack moves in to strike. Jack feints a slash with the dagger, then plants his back foot, snaking other leg behind the creature, then leaning in to it, toppling it to the ground. Jack presses his advantage by slamming the pommel of his dagger into the prone opponent's face.

Trip Attempt, outflank, heroism, animal focus, power attack, greater trip: 1d20 + 11 + 4 + 2 + 1 - 2 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 11 + 4 + 2 + 1 - 2 + 4 = 38

AoO from trip, outflank, heroism, animal focus, power attack, paired opportunist, nonlethal: 1d20 + 11 + 4 + 2 + 1 - 2 - 4 ⇒ (20) + 11 + 4 + 2 + 1 - 2 - 4 = 32

Confirm, outflank, heroism, animal focus, power attack, paired opportunist, nonlethal: 1d20 + 11 + 4 + 2 + 1 - 2 - 4 ⇒ (13) + 11 + 4 + 2 + 1 - 2 - 4 = 25

Damage, Power Attack, Animal focus, crit: 2d4 + 4 + 4 + 4 + 4 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (2, 3) + 4 + 4 + 4 + 4 + 1 + 1 = 23

AoO from Paired Opportunist, outflank, heroism, animal focus, power attack, paired opportunist, nonlethal: 1d20 + 11 + 4 + 2 + 1 - 2 - 4 ⇒ (15) + 11 + 4 + 2 + 1 - 2 - 4 = 27

Damage, Power Attack, Animal focus: 1d4 + 4 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 4 + 4 + 1 = 10

Advance as move action, drawing my dagger as part of that action. Activate animal focus for strength as a free, and direct Kelpie to move to flank. Once in position, ready to trip when Kelpie sets up the flank. I'm assuming that the trip hits, which provokes from Kelpie and Jack. I crit, which then provokes from Kelpie, giving Jack another attack as well.


F Animal Companion 6|Current AC: 24 AC Base: 24 T 15 FF 19 | HP 34/34 | F +5 R +10 W +4 | CMD 23 | Init +5 | Perc +2

Kelpie heed's Jacks's commands, snapping and growling to distract the green humanoid. She seizes on opportunities to bite at the creature created by Jack's assault.

AoO from trip, outflank, paired opportunist, animal focus: 1d20 + 9 + 4 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (20) + 9 + 4 + 4 + 1 = 38

Confirm, outflank, paired opportunist, animal focus: 1d20 + 9 + 4 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (17) + 9 + 4 + 4 + 1 = 35
damage, crit, animal focus: 2d8 + 4 + 4 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (2, 4) + 4 + 4 + 1 + 1 = 16

AoO from Kelpie's Crit, outflank, paired opportunist, animal focus: 1d20 + 9 + 4 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (16) + 9 + 4 + 4 + 1 = 34
damage, animal focus: 1d8 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 4 + 1 = 11

AoO from Jack's Crit, outflank, paired opportunist, animal focus: 1d20 + 9 + 4 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (10) + 9 + 4 + 4 + 1 = 28
damage, animal focus: 1d8 + 4 + 1 ⇒ (7) + 4 + 1 = 12

Double move to get into flanking position, two AoOs from Jack's action, plus one from Kelpie's crit


Male M Half-Orc Inquisitor (Sacred Slayer) 6|Current AC: 19 AC Base: 19 T 12 FF 15 | HP 56/56 | F +10 R +7 W +10 | CMD 19 | Init +4 | Perc +11 | Spells: Level 1 5/5 Level 2 4/4 Inquisitor 6

As the creature turns to attempt to fend off Kelpie's savage mauling, Jack slams the pommel down on it's face one more time.

AoO from Kelpie's Crit, outflank, heroism, animal focus, power attack, paired opportunist, non-lethal: 1d20 + 11 + 4 + 2 + 1 - 2 - 4 ⇒ (20) + 11 + 4 + 2 + 1 - 2 - 4 = 32

Confirm AoO from Kelpie's Crit, outflank, heroism, animal focus, power attack, paired opportunist, non-lethal: 1d20 + 11 + 4 + 2 + 1 - 2 - 4 ⇒ (3) + 11 + 4 + 2 + 1 - 2 - 4 = 15

Damage, animal focus, power attack: 1d4 + 4 + 1 + 4 ⇒ (1) + 4 + 1 + 4 = 10
Extra damage, if crit: 1d4 + 4 + 1 + 4 ⇒ (4) + 4 + 1 + 4 = 13

Ummm. I'm going to stop rolling there, as I assume he is quite beaten at this point. In fact, as soon as the little green man drops, I'll stop attacking in an effort to not kill him.

With his first opponent lying bloody and unconscious in front of him, Jack lowers his dagger and bellows at the creatures peppering him with arrows, We don't have to do this! Let' talk!


Male M Half-Orc Inquisitor (Sacred Slayer) 6|Current AC: 19 AC Base: 19 T 12 FF 15 | HP 56/56 | F +10 R +7 W +10 | CMD 19 | Init +4 | Perc +11 | Spells: Level 1 5/5 Level 2 4/4 Inquisitor 6

Also, forgot this:

Knowledge Local to ID creatures, heightened awareness: 1d20 + 6 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 6 + 2 = 19

If I identify them as something always hostile and unable to communicate / be reasoned with, go ahead and convert all that damage to lethal.


The short green figure shrieks in pain as you and Kelpie savage him, vine-like tendrils spraying a viscous green ichor as they are separated from his body. As you step forward to deliver the a finishing head blow, there is a low whoomph as the soggy rust-colored ground sends up a cloud of spores.

Jack's Fortitude save: 1d20 + 9 ⇒ (9) + 9 = 18
Kelpie's Fortitude save: 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (15) + 5 = 20

Though the cloud causes tears to well up in your eyes and a moment of violent coughing, you are able to shield your face. The spores seem to writhe, seeking purchase on skin, before falling back to the ground. You send the pommel of your knife into the creature's face, and it crumples to the ground, convulsing once then falling still.

Knowledge(nature): 1d20 + 5 ⇒ (10) + 5 = 15
You recognize the creature as a vegepygmy, strange plant-like creatures that inhabit jungles far from the reach of civilization. They are said to possess sentience, but an alien perspective. If there's been peaceful contact between these creatures and the wider world, you've never heard of it.

The remaining creatures, seeing their champion so quickly dispatched, turn and flee into the undergrowth, their shrill cries echoing through the clearing before they too fade away into the jungle.

Once again, you and Kelpie find yourselves alone in the thick jungle, though who knows for how long. Before you, the terrain continues to climb toward a peak somewhere out of sight.


Male M Half-Orc Inquisitor (Sacred Slayer) 6|Current AC: 19 AC Base: 19 T 12 FF 15 | HP 56/56 | F +10 R +7 W +10 | CMD 19 | Init +4 | Perc +11 | Spells: Level 1 5/5 Level 2 4/4 Inquisitor 6

Jack maintains his guard for a few moments as the Pygmies flee.

Bah, there are never any friendly natives... and these seem worse than most.

He'll spend a few moments searching the body for any useful equipment, and will gather up a few of the javelins, small though they are. Then he'll press on.

A few questions:

Is the tock-tock-tock sound still going on?

Same question for the chittering and drumming - I assume this one is gone.

Did the veggiepygmies flee in one general direction, or did they just scatter? If there was a consistent direction, Jack is assuming that is towards their village, and will avoid that direction.

What time of day is it, and do I think I'll reach the peak before the day is over? I'm not terribly keen on sleeping in a jungle infested with veggie pygmies.


You search the body, finding nothing of any value. The jungle floor is littered with four of the "javelins" - little more than crude sharpened sticks. You tuck them into your belt anyway.

Looking around, the tock-tock and chittering sounds seem to have ended along with the vegepygmies, which scattered into the jungle. The only sounds are the ambient caws of tropical birds and the occasional buzzing of a few botflies. You can't see the peak you were heading to thanks to the thick canopy, but the rays of sunlight that pierce through the foliage and the low rumbling sensation in your belly indicate it's probably sometime late morning.

Jack rolls: Survival: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (17) + 7 = 24

You estimate you should reach the peak sometime around midday, assuming no more run-ins with hostile natives.


Male M Half-Orc Inquisitor (Sacred Slayer) 6|Current AC: 19 AC Base: 19 T 12 FF 15 | HP 56/56 | F +10 R +7 W +10 | CMD 19 | Init +4 | Perc +11 | Spells: Level 1 5/5 Level 2 4/4 Inquisitor 6

In that case, Jack will press on towards the peak, keeping an eye out for fruit or other edible things along the way.


Survival: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23

You manage to find some wild muskmelon growing in thick, heady vines under a beam of sunlight filtering down through the canopy. As you and Kelpie continue forward, the terrain continues to ascend until you come to a steep rock face barring further passage. The rock face ascends a good 60 feet, pitted here and there by crevices that could serve as handholds. There doesn't seem to be another way around, at least within view.


Male M Half-Orc Inquisitor (Sacred Slayer) 6|Current AC: 19 AC Base: 19 T 12 FF 15 | HP 56/56 | F +10 R +7 W +10 | CMD 19 | Init +4 | Perc +11 | Spells: Level 1 5/5 Level 2 4/4 Inquisitor 6

Well Kelpie, this doesn't seem like it will be much more difficult than climbing the mast. Might be difficult for you, friend. But don't worry. Jack won't be leaving you behind.

Jack sets about finding and cutting some sturdy looking vines, tieing them together and attaching them to the end of his rope.

Survival to find appropriate vines nearby: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (10) + 7 = 17

Jack will tie the makshift vine side of the rope around his waist, and the other around Kelpie. He rubs his hands together, and spends a few moments attempting the climb in earnest.

Maybe a bit harder than the mast...

Jack focuses inward for a moment. The hair on his face, body, and arms lengthens almost imperceptibly, and his jaw juts ever so slightly forward. Activating animal focus: monkey. He then hops onto the cliff and begins to scurry up. Taking 10 on climb checks, for a total of 24.

Upon reaching the top of the cliff, Jack stands and surveys, first the area immediately atop the cliff, wary for threats. Once he is satisfied that there is nothing preparing to attack him, he will turn and survey the island from his new vantage point.

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