It's huge. Something like 80' radius.
Sven fully expected to be safe upon transforming. How wrong he was! Now that he was made of water, it felt like he was being torn apart by the maelstrom.
He swam for Madiya, and reaching out grabbed her.
”Which way to our ships?” He bubbled.
Once he knew which way to go, he resolved to bring her to safety.
As the maelstrom begins to pull him down, Kehlysch takes a deep, calming breath of water.
For once, something that can't kill me. he thinks.
Not the water. Things in it still may. the Bulge replies.
He steadies himself and begins swimming with the spin of the whirlpool, shifting himself outward from the center bit by bit.
Before plummeting into the water, Baolus had just enough time to scream "CCRRAAPP!". Then his survivor instinct ticked and he swam as fast as he could.
Falling into the water, Buhayra looks around quickly trying to spot the one of their ships.
Having no idea where to head to, she kept her focus on avoiding the other hazards in the water and swimming towards the rest of the officers.
- Fail
- Fail
- Fail
- Fail
Trying to swim perpendicular to the current of the whirlpool, she finds she cannot make hardly any headway at all.
"Does anyone see the ship? How do we get out of this?"
Tamesis' eyes widen as the deck of the ship disappears from under her feet. Muscle memory takes over, and her legs snap together, her arms clap her sides, and her tail wraps around her legs to make the plunge more comfortable. Once under the water, she unfurls, stows her bow, and starts swimming quickly for the nearest hull.
Once above the surface, she notes the distance of her ship. She grinds her teeth, but trusts in Cog and the crew left aboard to keep the ship safe until circumstances calm down.
Kehlysch sees Buhayra having difficulty and reaches out to her with his power.
"Ya uln 'ai k'yarnak uaaah."
"Swim with the pull of the whirlpool, then gradually push outwards towards the edges as you come full circle," Kehlysch suggests.
Kehlysch is first to arrive at the ship. From there he tries to assist Buhayra in. Tamesis isn't far behind, fighting the waves with all her skill. Behind her are Sven and Baolus who both seem to be making decent headway, but are a little lost. Poor Buhayra is really struggling against the vicious current.
- Underwater (1/40)
- Underwater (2/40)
- Underwater (3/40)
- Surface, No Progress
- Underwater (1/40)
- Underwater (2/40)
- Underwater (3/40)
- Surface, No Progress
- Underwater (1/40)
- Surface, Progress - 1
- Underwater (1/40)
- Surface, Progress - 2
- Underwater (1/40)
- Underwater (2/40)
- Surface, No Progress
- Underwater (1/40)
- Underwater (2/40)
- Underwater (3/40)
- Surface, No Progress
- Underwater (1/40)
- Underwater (2/40)
- Underwater (3/40)
- Surface, No Progress
- Underwater (1/40)
- Underwater (2/40)
- Underwater (3/40)
- Underwater (4/40)
- Surface, No Progress
- Surface, No Progress
- Surface, No Progress
- Surface, Progress - 3
- Underwater (1/40)
- Surface, Progress - 4
It takes Buhayra a shameful amount of time before she is finally able to drag herself up onto the deck of the ship, panting and dripping sea water like a drowned rat.
"Ships...are not...supposed to...vanish! What the hell?!?"
"A dead ship with a dead crew. Do we even know if we killed them?" Kehlysch asks no one in particular, "or are they just going to keep coming night after night until they take us all?"
How does one fend off a ghost ship once it's hunting you? Surely, there's a tale about it someone's told...
Your head is empty of such lore. I would have told you otherwise. the Bulge replies.
"Who knows, with the undead? First thing's first, we need to reconnect with the rudderless ship, lest it be carried away."
She turns to the remaining crew and starts giving orders, "Someone signal the Challenger to weigh anchor and stay put, then bring us around to capture the unmanned ship. We're almost out of this, boys! Just a little further to go before we rest!"
It is.
Kehlysch takes the wheel of the Challenger and brings it around to pursue the rudderless prize ship.
In spite of the crew regaining control of their Flagship, it is still a massive struggle to get all three ships back under control. By the time it's done and the storm has calmed the entire night has passed and dawn breaks on the horizon. Thankfully it is clear and golden. No more storms for at least one day, or so the Sailor stories go.
You have lost a total of four members of the crew. Two to the undead horrors, and two to the Maelstrom and heavy storm itself. Everyone is exhausted. The starboard bow of the Challenger and the port bow of the Bite have both been damaged by the ramming action of the Deathknell in addition to the general havoc a strong storm like that will cause in one's rigging.
There is, however, one upside. The struggle and the experience of meeting death itself has galvanized the morale of crew. There is no longer us or them, new and old. They are all with you, and they are all confident in your leadership. Some don't believe that will be enough to see them to port, but they do trust the officers more than they did.
Before dismissing the crew for rest, Tamesis gathers them together to send off the fallen. "Did anyone know these men? Would you like to say a few words? And did they follow any religious doctrine that would prevent a burial at sea?"
If there are no objections, Tamesis performs the rites for a burial at sea (likely with help from the more religiously inclined) and a moment of silence for anyone who could not be recovered, then releases the crew for a brief rest.
Fear killed them. Fear will not kill us. the Bulge mutters enigmatically in Kehlysch’s head.
“What ails thee, sailor? Thy hue is pale.
Great wounds, I see, do weary thee;
thy helmet is hewn, thy hauberk eke:
at an end is now, sailor, thy life!
Wounds have I seen, is slit thy throat,
dim grows your sight, You see no longer:
to your heart did hew, venom-hardened,
Pilk’s sword, slashing sharply.
Shall fair ladies never learn that ye,
from blows unyielding, backward turned ye;
nor shall ever, men taunt ye,
For in all telling, from the dead none fled.
Take with thee, lad— my wish it is—
Your helm and hauberk, to the hall of the dead.
Will it wring the heart, of all who see valor.
When shattered they see, what shielded my breast.
The red-gold ring, from right arm draw,
to Pharasma bring it, in her dark sitting.
Will she see, the judge of souls,
For loyalty died, may she judge ye.”
As Sven finished the dirge he consigned the bodies to the sea.
The funeral casts a somber pall over the crews, but does provide some much needed closure. The malaise passes by the time you reach your destination almost a week later.
And getting there is no mean feat. The weather isn't entirely cooperative and lashes you with another, lesser, storm as you make your way into port. No one is lost this time, however, and what little damage is caused is easily repaired.
The damage that the Deathknell caused to the bows of your two whole ships, however, complicates things even more than just towing your rudderless prize. While your now short-handed crews run ragged trying to keep the ships in shape, your pilots' skills are put to the test, having to constant manage the course of your ships as the damage causes subtle shifts in course over time.
Finally, you arrive, and very much worse for wear. You pay the required docking fees and set off to do business.
As the port comes into view, Tamesis works with Baolus to get the plunder divided up, so that once the ships berth, the crew can be paid, first and foremost.
Once the ships are tied up and fees are paid, she pays the crew and looks forward to what comes next, "Alright, then. Buhayra, before we set sail again, it would be great if we can get the deck of the Challenger repaired where it got rammed. Sven, I'm leaving it to you to sell the two captured ships. The rest of you, at some point, try to find a library or temple or some other repository of local information, particularly legends. I want to know about that ghost ship, the Deathknell. See if there's anything about it coming back after being bested, and if so, if there's any way to make it go away permanently. I'm going to go look for someone to buy up the rest of the take. Once we get that sold, we can divvy it up and go have some fun!"
"I'm sure there's at least one Pharasmin Shrine in this town," Kehlysch says. "If they cater to sailors, I'm sure they'll know about any ghost ships haunting the waters."
Kehlysch makes his way through town, asking after the location of the local temple to the Gray Lady.
Sven went about looking for buyers of the excess ships. Should he find one, he will try to regale the buyer with tales of the battle against the Deathknell, stating that these ships survived being rammed by the fearsome pirate and came out on top. That the battle damage should not lower the value, but rather, are evidence of how well crafted the ships are and thus show their value.
Kel finds the temple in short order. It's stuck a ways back offshore near the center of the city and simply screams Pharasma, meaning it's utterly bland. The priestess inside is cold and monotone, her voice barely a whisper above the salt laden air, May I assist you?
"Greetings, Servant of the Gray Lady. I come seeking knowledge about a local legend: a deathless captain and his ship, crewed by the walking dead - Captain Pilk, and the Deathknell. Do you know his tale?"
"Aye Captain, we'll see what we can do."
Buhayra spins back to the crew members that are excitedly exiting the boat to enjoy some shore leave.
"Bosun Cog! Assign three men to repair work with me. They will miss out on some of the revelry, but I will make the time worth their while. Individuals that can swing a hammer and hit a nail instead of their hand if you please. I am going to go procure some supplies. Have them start on the work and when I return you will be relieved."
Buhayra heads down the gangplank in search of tools and supplies to make the repairs. She holds off on shopping for her own interests until after the work is done.
When Buhayra arrives back at the ship about an hour later she relieves Cog as promised and sets to work shimming and shaping boards to replace the damaged lumber of the ship. As she works she tries to get a sense of the scope of the damage and if she and the three crew members will be able to handle it themselves, or if she will need to call in more workers the following day.
At the end of the day Buhayra addresses the workers.
"You men have done fine work today. I know it wasn't your first choice to continue to labor while in port, but the rest of the crew thanks you for it."
She gives a small purse with 10 gold to each of them and dismisses them to find whatever entertainment interests them for the evening.
...
...
Kehlysch:
The Pharasmin priest frowns at the question, "I'm sure I've heard of it, but I can't say that I know any details. I'm sorry. You are welcome to search the temple's library for information, however. It may contain what you seek."
Kehlysch nods respectfully to the priestess. "My thanks to you and the Gray Lady's church," he says as he makes his way to the library.
Kehlysch peruses the shelves of tomes and scrolls, looking for anything that might contain information about the accursed whaler. He also look for any references to undead creatures that can steal breath from their prey.
Kel does his research, and is certain that he is close to figuring out the puzzle, but just can't quite put all the pieces together. He does learn the following:
Captain Jeremiah Pilk took the whaler Belle Dame to sea from the port of Magnimar in 4631 ar. The Belle Dame could take a whale in far waters, skin it, render its blubber in the tryworks, and store its meat, all without seeing land for weeks at a time. Such was Captain Pilk’s success that he became known as “Whalebone” among Magnimarian seafarers after the rumor that all he left of his prey were the picked-clean bones.
The story goes that Pilk drove his men to exhaustion on their ill-fated final voyage, hunting down a pod of whales after a long dry spell. There are only scattered reports of the final days of the Belle Dame, but it is rumored that Pilk was forced to savagely and cruelly put down a mutiny, having the leader skinned and rendered in a try pot, and nailing his cleaned skull to the mast. After that, it seems that the ship was damaged by the very whales it was hunting, and sank. With his dying breath, Pilk cursed the whales and his own crew for their failure.
Whalebone Pilk is now the captain of a ghost ship that haunts the Fever Sea. Occasionally rising from the bottom of the deeps, Pilk continues his hunts in the renamed Deathknell, stalking his prey for 3 nights until he brings them down. Pilk always waits until the third night to strike, as the group already knew.
A breath taker is an aquatic undead creature that robs the breath from its victim. In life they were evil thieves who drowned at sea, pirates who took valuable goods at will from others that plied the waves. Now, in unlife, they seek out and steal that which was first taken from them—the ability to breathe. A breath taker has two primary attack modes. Either it uses its long, seaweed-encrusted fingernails against an enemy, or its dreaded ability the steal the very breath from its victim’s lungs. The breath taker’s rotted chest visibly expands as it draws this fresh air into itself.
Kehlysch considers the passage, then mutters to himself.
"Not much more than we already knew. He was cursed, with undeath, either for skinning the mutineer or by the whales? Do whales deal in curses? The skull was nailed to the mast....maybe the skull is still there, and needs to be removed or destroyed. What else did we not know...the ship was called the Belle Dame before he was cursed, which means "beautiful girl" and then was renamed the Deathknell when he rose again. A death knell is a bell rung to mark someone's death. Wait...a bell...a bell! The ship's bell was still ringing, and we could hear it over the storm and the fighting! Maybe that's it....that or the skull, or both...damn. A whole library full of books and nothing but a guess to show for it."
He closes the book and replaces it on the shelf. He then goes looking for tomes about undead.
What he finds is confusing. Much of it is overly verbose or written using terminology only a lifelong priest or practitioner of necromancy would understand.
He shuts the book with a sigh, and makes his way to the entry hall. As he passes the priestess, he places a gold coin in her hand. "A contribution to the Church," he says.
I wonder how the rest of the crew is faring. he wonders, as he walks back to meet them.
Care to guess? replies the Bulge.
After help splitting the loot among the sailors, Baolus wandered off in the streets, looking for a "nice place to meet a lady". It had been a long time since he had felt the caress of a woman and now that his pockets were full, he decided to look for one that charged in gold and not in copper for a change...
Madiya stays behind to give Buhayra some help with repairing the Sunset Challenger, then repositions the weapons onboard. Once that's done, she also wanders off into port, looking for supplies for her toys.
Kehlysch tracks down Tamesis and the rest of the officers and reports his findings.
”What I could find in the Pharasmin Temple’s library was little more than what we already knew, but it gives us a few possibilities and one long-shot to rid ourselves of Pilk and his zombies. The two easiest, though by no means certain, ways of possibly sending him to the Boneyard permanently are to either destroy the skull nailed to the mainmast or destroy the ship’s bell. The accounts of how Pilk became a restless spirit make ominous reference to the skull. It belonged to a member of his crew who tried to lead a mutiny. The bell is a little more vague, but it has some importance. The ship was originally named the Belle Dame until it sank, then arose from the Fever Sea as a ghost ship. From then on, it was called the Deathknell. Well, a death knell is the sounding of a bell to mark someone’s passing. Remember how clearly Pilk’s bell could be heard, over the wind, rain, and battle? Seems awfully coincidental, or am I reading too much into it? The third option, the far-fetched one, is that Pilk was cursed by a whale that he was hunting. I’ve never heard of a whale wizard or priest, but that doesn’t mean one doesn’t exist. We may have to find the spell casting sea beast and persuade it to lift the curse.”
He shrugs, and looks to the others for their responses.
In a bad mood for having Kehlysch searching for him and scaring the girl he was with, Baolus gave his sour opinion. "In my opinion, one thing is to fight against a curse when it comes to bite your ass... the other is actively looking for it. We were unlucky in finding Pilk, but it is gone now... lets move with our lives and forget it for now."
"A lightning doesn't strike twice in the same place they say... perhaps the same goes for Pilk. Who knows... If it comes back to us, we do what we can."
She was a nice one too with the hints of a Besmaran tattoo in an interesting place that promised treasure. Baolus now knows where the nice ladies of the evening are now and it shouldn't be too hard to find another.
Madiya finds a place pretty quick. It stinks of smelting iron and burning wood from the bolt production out back with a hint of exotic chemicals.
Existing: 2324 gold
Party Split: 4722 gold
Total gold to spend: 7046
Purchase 1: +1 Dragonhide Tatami-do armor (3300)
Leaves me with 3,746 left
Purchase 2: +1 enchantment for hammer
Leaves me with 1,746 left
Purchase 3: Cracked Pink and Green Ioun Stone with Wayfinder, gives +1 Diplomacy and +1 Will Save
Leaves me with 1046 gold left, +50 from selling old armor, for a total of 1096. All of which I will save.
Sven walked through town with his purse full of gold. More gold than he had ever seen in his life. Life...it was good. It was more than good, it was great! For a short while he had been the captain of an actual ship. True, the ship was being sold, but he preferred being First Mate anyways. Much less responsibility. Now, all he had to do was think about how to spend his gold.
Part of him wanted to go with Baolus. The man was out looking for women. And while part of him wanted to do the same...he couldn't bring himself to do it. Everytime he had the thought, the image of Grok came to mind, and their last kiss. He never thought himself to be sentimental...and yet here he was. Pining over a girl he'd likely never see again. He stopped and reached into his pack, taking out the fiddle that she gave him. He didn't play it, of course. And he was supposed to have given it to it's rightful owner. But it reminded him of her. Unhappily he put it back, annoyed that he couldn't relax like an Ulfen should. This, of course, meant that he had even more gold to spend.
And that...is when he stopped. Stopped dead in his tracks. There was a merchant with a stall, and in it something caught his eye. It looked like...it couldn't be!
"Ah, I know a discerning eye when I see one."
The man at the stall turned around, and flashed Sven a smile. Despite his advanced age, Sven could tell that he knew how to use the sword than hung from his side. The stall was full of arms, armor, gems, furs, and other miscellaneous items. There was little rhyme or reason to any of it.
Sven looked at the scales which were within one of the creates hungrily. "That. Let me see that." The man reached in, and pulled it out. Sven's eyes *glowed* with awe and hunger.
"How...how did you get that?" He said, his eyes not straying from the prize. It was a helmet, made out of the hide of a sea drake. He had seen a sea drake before. Once, when he was a child, swimming in the waters near his home. It had scared him so much that he couldn't sleep well for a month, out of fear that it would eat him, even in his dreams. To him, it was a symbol of strength and terror.
"How indeed." The old pirate chuckled. "I couldn't rightfully answer that. For you see, everything you see here comes from dead men. And they tell no tales. And seeing as how they are dead, they have no need for the baubles that failed to keep them alive. So here I am, ready to let them go for a pittance."
Sven glanced up at the man and noticed the hard look in his eyes. Sven towered over him, but in that moment he knew how foolish it would be to try and rob him.
"And do you have all of it?" Sven asked, trying to keep the hunger out of his voice. The man nodded, and rummaging around, fished out the rest of it.
------------
Twenty minutes later, Sven was walking away. His old lammelar had been sold, and in it's place he wore a suit of dragonhide armor. The hide was as hard as steel, and almost as importantly, it looked impressive. From the seadrake horns that were upon the helm to the spikes that adorned, it looked fearsome. Sven felt ten feet tall walking through the town in it.
That was, of course, not all he bought. For once he had bought the dead man's armor, Sven couldn't help but be dragged in by the old pirate's stories. He had devoured the tale of how the armor had been gained, for the old man's ship had been boarded by pirates. Pirates led by a captain who wore this armor, and took for himself the name "The Sea Drake." The two had fought with the backdrop of a raging storm behind them for an entire night, if the story was to be told. Blow after blow turned aside by the impenetrable dragonhide, until the old captain had put his blade through the captain's eye.
While donning his new prize, Sven listened to the other tales. Of how the same captain had with a glaive, which the old man had thought was magical. That was, until he discovered it was actually the dragonhide which covered the shaft which made the glaive unnaturally keen. Sven didn't even bargain for the price, he knew that he had to have it! Once it was wrapped around the shaft of his hammer he just *knew* that it would make him unbeatable in combat. Even more important, it completed the look. He would look *amazing*. He couldn't wait until he got back to the ship to show off what he had. "First Mate Sven indeed!" They would say that, he was sure. They would say "Now that is how an Ulfen looks!" He was sure of it. Grok would...he frowned, the thought of her killing his mood. He wished that she were there so he could show off how good he looked. Then it would be certain that she would want to make mighty babies with him.
He glanced down at his belt, to the little device which hung from it. It was a "wayfinder" whatever that meant. Made from silver and bearing gold accents, within was a fine lattice of wire, spun of silver, gold, and even more precious metals that he couldn't name. That, and some kind of gem stone which was cracked, but was still beautiful. The old man had told him that it belonged to a mage who bragged that he could shrug off any enchantment. It didn't save him from the crossbows which had perforated his lungs. Now, Sven didn't know what perforated meant, but he knew that it was beautiful. And he had gold! So much gold! Almost enough to buy a ship!
Well, he *had* gold before. The old man had most of it now. Sven managed (by some small miracle) to hang onto a bit under a seventh of his original haul. But he didn't care. Gold came and went. He didn't even know if he would stay alive, given the luck that they were having. So what mattered most was being happy *now* by using the gold for things that he wanted.
And now that he had what he wanted, it was time to find the others so they could see how amazing he looked.
Existing: 1065 gold 25 sp 9 cp
Party Split: 4722 gold 1 sp 6 cp
Total gold to spend: 5787 gold 26 sp 15 cp
+1 Mithril Chain Shirt of Spell Storing (shocking grasp CL5) 5,100
CL5 Shocking Grasp Spell casting service (SL x CL x 10) = 50gp
Sell MW Chain Shirt - 250/2 = 125
Remaining Liquid Resource 1762g 26s 15c
Feeling satisfied with the work done on the ship, Buhayra takes the next day to go around town and focus on herself. She shops around for a bit, admiring fancy gem rings and powerful swords that she would have no use for.
She doesn't really find anything she needs until she comes across a beautiful silvery shirt hanging lightly on a form at one shop. A pale blue stone sits just above the sternum, reflecting the light. The gem appears to spark with some kind of internal energy.
An old dwarvish woman with a snake on her shoulders comes up to the counter from the back, noticing Buhayra's covetous gaze."Ah. That my dearey is a powerful piece of magical armor. I doubt you could afford it. But potions. I have potions if you please?"
Buhayra's gaze barely breaks from the armor as she addresses the shop keeper. "It's magic too? What does it do?"
"Well, that kind of depends on you. The armor itself is Mithril Chain, so light and flexible you will barely notice that you wear it. But it provides the magic protection of armor much heavier. In addition, a spell can be stored in the gem to discharge against your assailant. As a bonus for the purchase I have charged the armor with a shocking little surprise, but once discharged you would have to cast a new spell in it yourself," the old arcanist's eye sizes Buhayra up and rightly determines that she does not have the magical ability to do so, "or find someone else to charge it for you. If you stay around town my services can of course be retained for that purpose."
Buhayra is no longer listening. She begins to dig for the large money pouch she kept in her pack for safe keeping. "How much?
Stormlure (necklace), 5400 gp
Kehlysch makes his way into the more eclectic parts of the market street, looking for a shop bearing the signs and markings of dealing in magical items.
He ducks into a shop known as the Siren's Song: Specialty spells, Enchantments, and Items of Incantation.
A tall, thin, bespectacled woman with a strangely birdlike posture and movement looks up suddenly from the ledger at the front counter.
"Greetings friends," she says to Kehlysch. "You two have a look around. Let me know if you have any questions." She gives a odd smile, almost as if she were some inept actor following stage direction to an absurdly literal degree.
Kehlysch looks back over his shoulder to see if any one else had entered at the same time he had. Seeing no one, he looks back at the at the proprietess with a look of concern and confusion.
She can sense my presence. the Bulge states.
Well, considering the value of items in a place like this, I'm certain she makes a point of assessing each customer that walks through her door. Kehlysch thinks in reply.
As he browses through the rows and shelves, Kehlysch notices small, finely written cards indicating the name of the item, a brief summary of its powers, and a ubiquitous script at the bottom of each stating "See the proprietess for pricing."
His eyes settle upon a necklace, an arrangement of blue-green scales, small, iridescent nautilus shells, with an oddly-shaped, dark blue-gray gem as a centerpiece. The card below it reads, Stormlure.
Kehlysch takes notice of the flow of power through his new necklace, a sensation like the undulating ocean beneath dark gray thunderheads.
A wise acquisition. whispers the Bulge.
Alchemical Silver Masterwork Dagger, 322 gp
Cold Iron Masterwork Dagger, 304 gp
As he makes his way back towards the docks, Kehlysch notices some fine weapons on display at the Master Weaponsmith's shop. He makes his way inside and peruses the various weapons on display.
"Oi! You there! You scarcely have enough meat on your bones to lift a tankard of well-watered ale! Whadda think you'll find for yerself in my shop?" says a soot-and-sweat covered man in his middle years. His arms and hands bear numerous scars from burns and nicks, and his beard bears uneven patches where it appears to have burned away at sometime in the past.
"I am not one for hand-to-hand combat," Kehlysch says, meeting the man's glare dead-on. "But I am more than capable of defending myself." He delivers this in a tone that conveys a controlled, but ever-present element of potential danger.
"Even so, men of my talents sometimes find themselves in close-quarters against foes that transcend the average buccaneer or scallywag. I was looking for small, but well-made weapons that would grant me some element of effectiveness against such foes."
Clearly unnerved by Kehlysch's unmistakable warning, the Smith backtracks. "Well...you've come to the right place, then. You seem like the type of fellah that can handle a small blade, a dagger, am I right?"
Kehlysch gives the man an acknowledging nod.
"Come look at these," the Smith replies, gesturing over to a display holding two daggers: one bright silver, the other a dark gray-black.
"These are two of the finest examples of my work," he says proudly. "One is alchemist's silver, the other is cold iron. Both metals are very hard to work with, but the results speak for themselves." He beams with pride as he stands over the blades. "If you are looking for weapons to give you an edge against the foulest creatures of darkness and deception, look no further! Alchemist's silver is the only metal that will harm were-beasts, and yo never know when you'll find one of them lurkin' among your crew. Cold iron is the bane of faeries, and those mischief-makers'll tangle your lines, rend your sails and scuttle yer hull just so they can laugh as you sink to your watery grave! So, whadda ya say, sir? Interested in the set?"
"They're very nice," replies Kehlysch.
After a few minutes of obligatory haggling, he leaves the shop with two new daggers to accompany his own.
After a bit of relaxed looking around, Madiya quickly settles on her purchases at the artillery workshop. She hauls them back to the ship, but she's not done yet. Heading back out into town with her share of the loot, Madiya, like the other officers, resolves to bolster her defenses.
She glances through a couple shops, though nothing really catches her eye. Leather and chain are nice, especially for someone with a high chance of needing to swim, but they're really no better than what she has now. She's about to give up when she comes across a different type of shop, with the clanking of hammer against heavy steel and the scent of magic in the air...maybe this is where she'll find what she wants.
As she enters, the gigantic smith looks up from his workbench and greets her, but never stops his hammering. Another man, off to the side perusing books and scrolls on a table blanketed with parchment, stands up and heads towards the front. Looking her over, he asks in a matter-of-fact tone, "Sailor?". Madiya simply nods. "Well, we don't usually get much business from your type, only the big brawny ones with giant hammers that look like that fellow up there. I think we've got a few things you could use, though..." He leads her through the lines of full plate to a section in the corner, saying, "Now, this isn't our best work, but you probably couldn't use those, anyways. That brute ruined quite a few good pieces of mithral and adamantine back in the day, and I used them as practice. Still good, though. What do you think?" He steps back as Madiya looks through the smaller pieces - half plates and mails - until she finds something she likes: a comparatively slim, lightweight breastplate with a slight tingle to the touch. The man nods and says, "Yes, yes...that one should be ideal. Good thing we recycled the leg pieces, though. They were far too...oh, sorry, I shouldn't ramble on like this. Now...you must have one to trade in, surely? Ah, yes, fine handiwork. Not our usual fare, but I'm sure we'll find some use for it." With her old chain shirt exchanged, Madiya happily leaves with her new gear and a wave to the men, still diligently working away.
Once back on the ship for the night, new armor stowed away, Madiya spends some extra time fixing up and practicing with her crossbow. It's always good to have better protection, but it couldn't hurt to be better on the offensive as well.
loot: 4722 gp 1 sp 6 cp
total: 5658 gp 8 sp 9 cp
buy +1 mithril breastplate: 5200 gp
sell masterwork chain shirt: 125 gp
remaining: 583 gp 8 sp 9 cp
Back on the ship Buhayra sees Madiya sighting down her cross bow and launching bolts into a target barrel 60’ down the deck.
“Hey Madiya! I picked up some magic bolts a few weeks back. Everyday it seems less likely that I will ever use them. Do you want them? You use your crossbow a whole lot more than I use mine.”
Assuming Madiya expresses interest Buhayra turns over her 3 screaming bolts (+2) as well as the 4 +1 crossbow bolts that were in the bag of holding.
Split Loot: 4747gp, 1sp, 6cp
Total Gold: 6463gp, 15sp, 15cp
Itens bought:
+1 buckler [enchanting current buckler] (1000gp)
+1 mithril chain shirt (2100gp)
mantle of resistance +1 (1000gp)
ring of protection +1 (2000gp)
Itens sold:
mw chain shirt (125gp)
Gold Left: 488gp, 15 sp, 15cp
Noticing all the stuff the others bought for themselves, Baolus headed back to the markets searching for something nice for him as well. His thought was one and only: he needed to enhance his ability to survive, for they were surely cursed with bad luck.
From an old, retired dwarven spelunker, Baolus bought a magical chain shirt made of mithral. It was stinky of sour ale but he imagined it would not be so hard to remove the smell... and thinking about it, his own smell wasn't that better.
From a young and beautiful woman who managed to resist his charms, he bought a ragged and old flag that she claimed to had once belonged to Gutwad Half-man. 'Wear it like a cloak' she said, and winked, so he did, smiling like a fool.
From an old hag who smelt terribly of garlic, probably to hide other less pleasant smells, he bought "Ol' Rusty's lucky ring". In the beginning he was sceptic, since Rusty's severed and mummified hand was still attached to the ring... but she claimed that he was so lucky that nothing could harm him when he was alive and he died of old age at 173 years old. He would not touch the ring, since the 'luck' in the ring would be passed to her. He was convinced.
Before returning to the ship, he entered a Cayden Cailean's tavern and asked the bartender-priest if he could bless his buckler with some of his God's luck. He promised he would and told Baolus to be back next day to pick it up.
In the end, he was quite happy... as happy as a man cursed with ill fortune could be.
Tamesis buys a Headband of Vast Intelligence +2, and gathers enough materials to permanently enchant her bow.
Headband -4000
Reagents -1000
Remaining: 273