Stand-in post slot to create the gameplay thread.
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The ship was rocking. Poseidon must have been displeased. The peal of thunder struck through the air, almost in time with the boat's near capsizing. Hearing shouts along the ship, the shouts of your fellow countrymen, you remembered the item that bound you all here.
The Golden Box.
It sat in the middle of the ship like a pariah being ostracized, unmoving and mysterious. Whenever the lightning struck you swore that your eyes saw the Box light up, hungering for Zeus' bolts. There was something wrong with it, why else would the Gods have come down themselves to point it out...
---
It had been a long campaign, but the war was done. Sometimes you wonder the reason why you came here, whether it was for honour, for duty, for glory, or money... You were ready to head back home. You saw the fellows that you worked with in these times and the hoard of treasure you were to bring back. Maybe that was why it was worth it.
"I can't wait to go home and see my child. I just know that we've been blessed by Hera herself." The voice came from Attalos, a commander of the faction that you did some work with. He was a nice man, older but his grizzled nature wasn't thick enough to hide his concern for his newborn. Some of the other soldiers in the room gave a cheer for their commander, mixed with the sound of metals being unsheathed and examined, coins tinkling to the floor, it was a cacophony of victory.
The sounds stopped suddenly though, it was almost unnatural when a Golden Box was revealed. Smooth to the touch, with no noticeable openings. You wondered if it was a sculpture unfinished... But it wouldn't have made sense. A Box of that size, the size of a small king's throne, it would have been wasteful. You noticed that once the coins and spoils were cleaned off, once the light hit it, there were strange symbols on the side. It wasn't Greek.
"What is this?" Attalos put down a helmet etched with the signs of a foreign language, "What did you find here?" He curiously approached it, "A strange box." The aura of mystery permeated the air, many of those working with Attalos putting their items down to discuss what it could mean.
The forum continued for a few minutes until a shape stepped out from behind a column. She was radiant in a sense, but you knew for a fact she wasn't here before or you would have noticed her. She was armored, with a mantle that flashed the image of an owl. "I would stay away from that if I were you." Much like the Golden Box, she demanded attention with those simple words and everyone turned.
You heard a few gasps from the looters, but the common thread in all those gasps was a single name. Athena
Hearing the Gods coming down is one thing but seeing it... You knew that there was something with this whole situation.
"All of you, you in this room should know who I am. I am victory, I am the wisdom that leads to that victory. I am Athena and I have guided you in this battle here to get to this point." There was nary a sound in the room other than the shuffling of feet to get a better look, the sound of some of them going to their knees. "I have a charge for you. All of you. This Golden Box carries inside it something that cannot leave for any reason." The silence weighed on the air, "I need not remind you of Pandora and the evils she unleashed on the world. You aren't children." The words were sharp and with it you felt the consideration of a few of those in the room immediately wilt.
"Bring it back to me, to my Temple in Athens. There, and only there can it be protected properly."
It sounded like one of the stories, you had heard tales of course, but it was unreal for it to... Well... Be real.
"It will be dangerous. You will meet adversity. Should you be one of the ones to sail back with this Box, know that you will be rewarded for your bravery and wisdom." She sweeps her hand over some coin and she almost floats through the room, "This is small."
For a moment it almost looks like she is speaking with someone. "But it will not be easy." She nods, "Tyche cannot approach those who have been cursed by the Box, she cannot provide you her favour, even us the Gods have trouble with this Golden Box; but my link to you all allows me these brief moments." You can see her fading somewhat, "This I tell you."
And with a glimmer she winks out of existence. It was all too real.
"You heard Athena! We sail! I will not force you to, so if you wish to go home Theroply is sailing there as well, I will speak with him personally." Some people nodded, shook hands and hugged before speaking with Attalos and leaving with their spoils.
---
You wondered if that was the right choice. The thunder shook you out of it, Attalos and his men were standing fast around the Golden Box.
"You knew what we agreed to! This will be our story!"
The darkness in the air did tell of a tale, but it wasn't just going to be your own...
The waves crashed, but mercifully you were able to keep your footing. Many of the soldiers and sailors on board were doing their best to keep the ship set right. The job was a difficult one with how capricious Poseidon was but it was more important than anything else right now.
The foam of the Aegean washes over you, though the sun is still hiding behind the cloud coverage. You have heard of worse storms, you've definitely may have braved worse, but there was something unsettling about the black clouds and the rays of light that only barely touched the rocking boat.
It was almost as if the clouds were following you, a trial or curse from the heavens.
Attalos was yelling over the cracking sound. He needed some folks to watch the box, there was some development on the lower levels that needed his attention.
Your dedication, honour, pride... Something made you volunteer; and you found yourself faced with a few others.
Thankfully there was a lot to grab to, and the job wasn't physically exhausting. The less devout would call it a break, but you know it is just as important as keeping the ship sailing.
Below deck was dark, suffocating. The ceaseless waves made the cargo unstable and Alecta was wedged at the stern between the hull and a crate full of provisions. She could hear the men topside yelling over the cacophony of water and wind.
She had managed to crawl below deck as a guard dozed in the hot sun at Port and made her way behind dozens of crates into the darkest corner she could find.
Suddenly the top hatch slammed open and someone decended the ladder. A fresh cool breeze wafted into the hull and with it the taste of salt and seafoam. Muffled movements, a crate being cracked open and a voice muttering something about onions. Alecta froze as a shadow crowded over her and rough hands seized the crate she was tucked behind, sliding it away and exposing her. The man froze also, blinking at her in the dim light.
What the...?!
But before he could speak another syllable Alecta sprung at him. He stepped back and slammed against a box, fell forward and scrambled on hands a knees back to the ladder climbing swiftly before Alecta could reach him. The hatch slammed shut.
God's protect me, Hermes don't let my efforts end here!
She could hear more yelling above deck, shuffling of feet, the clang of armor and weapons. Panting with fear she positioned herself against the hull and waited.
Attalos and a few men rushed down, their spears at the ready. They had known that there was going to be trouble with the box but had no idea what to expect. They feared for the worst but steeled their resolve as their loyal commander led the way down the hatch.
"Men! This might be our first trial! Who knows what sort of sorcery might be belowdeck!" The word sorcery sent shivers through most of the the soldiers, they knew that where sorcery stepped, swords followed. While some knew the stories, and some even had respect for the Gods of magic such as Hecate, it was never a comfortable admission of one's own mortality.
Dropping down the hatch, the commander led the way, his men in a tight formation. His experience is clear, he speaks aloud hoping to gather some information and figure out the positions of whatever lurked.
"Who is there? Show yourself for we have the blessing of Athena herself." Giving some hand signals, they began to fan out in the thin ship.
Clearchus smiled. True to her word, Athena had promised a challenge, and it seems the gods had wasted no time in devising a new trial in which he could prove himself.
Although the war itself had be necessary, Clearchus had grown tired of prosecuting it. His desire to return home to more noble tasks had grown with each passing day. With Athena's appearance and the presentation of a new quest to return the "Box", exhaustion had receded from Clearchus like the tides. Renewed with fresh vigour, Clearchus mutters a prayer to Zeus for protection during this storm. He remembered his duty well, and stood ready near their prize.
Clearchus' eyes scan the heavens and the horizon for any threat that may come to disturb his holy vigil over the Box.
Hermes, Athena, guide me. What fate awaits when I am found?
Alecta ducked into the shadows as the men wove their way through the hull. Where could she go? They wouldn't give up until she was found. Her only hope was to try to convince them of her loyalty to their quest.
Hear me men! I am no foe of yours! Fate has brought me to you to aid in your mission! Know that I stand loyal to Athena, and wish to return what is hers and earn her grace. By the Gods I swear I mean no harm!
Belowdeck, Porphyrion tries to catch his balance. Not ever having been on a ship before, the violent rocking of the boat has already throw him off his feet more than once. With shoulders hunched and head ducked, the clumsy giant tries to navigate his way to the deck following the intensifying shouting.
All was fine when I shut my eyes, what damnation has fallen upon us.
"Naturally you would say that!" One of the soldiers yelled out but was stifled with a hand from Attatos, "Easy there Cilix. If she were to be a foe, there would be nowhere to go."
The captain walked up to the woman and gave her a once over in the dark, "If she had the power of sorcery this boat would be destroyed by now and our quest over." Giving her a wary eye, he questions her a little more, "Where do you hail from? What do you know of our quest?"
Attatos saw the giant man, Porphyrion, lumbering around, "Porphyrion! Get above deck if you can, I need someone as hearty as yourself up there."
Clearchus notices that there are a few others onboard who don't look like soldiers, one an older woman and a more scholarly man who clearly looks out of place on a boat .
Some voices are shouting about the storm and how best to handle it. The sailors are generally at odds with the soldiers but as it stands right now, everyone seems to be ready to do what is necessary... Until the talk of the spoils comes to light and the extra weight they are bringing on the ship.
You find that the storm is getting worse by the minute. It is only a matter of time before the rains come down and you end up in the thick of it. You may be able to avoid the storm if some of the hull is cleared.
Judging by the distance you've covered, the clouds seem to be almost following the boat. It doesn't look like this storm will be small enough to maneuver around without a faster boat. In fact, you're certain they are following you and reducing your load won't help.
Her heart pounded in her throat and she knew she must choose her next words carefully.
"I am from Sparta. Alecta daughter of the great epilektoi Agamedes."
She drew a deep breath and examined the man standing before her, searching his face for intent.
"I had a vision and it lead me to a temple of Hermes..."careful! "I... felt as though I was meant to travel with the box, to aid in its return to Athens. Please, I am a skilled fighter allow me to aid you."
She stepped out of the shadows and extended her hand.
"Come now, fellows. It is not a time for loitering during the storm. To your posts and defend our prize!" Clearchus shouts, his commanding voice barely audible over the raging storm.
He had some concerns about his allies. Though all survivors of the war, he was unsure if their faith was pure enough or their mettle strong enough for this quest. He realized he didn't know much about them at all, and trained his gaze upon them.
The old veteran looks at her. "So you know as well? And you claim Hermes has sent you message of our journey?" Some of the sailors and soldiers shift uncomfortably, "This must be greater than we thought."
He weighs his options and extends his hand, "Alecta, daughter of the great epilektoi Agamedes, welcome." He waves off some of the murmurs. "She claims she is a Spartan, we need use of their skills in battle. We were told a great trial awaited us and should we shun a gift from Hermes and Athena?" With some looks, he shakes his head, "Never!"
The boat rocked.
"Alecta, if you can sail, we might need all the skill we can get. If not I think that giant of a man Porphyrion might need some help with musclework."
Clearchus focuses his gift of sight, the ability to test mettle and intention with just a glance. Unfortunately, he doesn't sense many auras from anyone here . However when he looks toward the box he swears that there was a glimmer of magical energy coming from it; only for a moment before the golden glow of the box obstructs it yet again.
Polymetus paid the serious looking Spartan no mind, and cared not for what was causing the commotion below deck. He had a singular reason for volunteering to keep an eye on the box. He needed to get a closer look.
He'd tried to many times in the days since they'd set sail, but had always been pulled away, his skills at crafting and mending needed for some task or another. The same skills that had caused him to be roped into the war against his will, and away from his true quest...
...But now this box had appeared before him. Crafted exquisitely, covered in strange markings, and coveted by Athena herself, surely this chest would give him the clue he needed to resume his search, for it had been many years since those fateful days in the cave, and the trail had gone cold.
Polymetus kneeled down by the box, close enough to inspect but not close enough to anger the Spartan guard eyeing him and the others suspiciously. He knew of Spartans by their reputation: Quick with their swords and spears, slow with everything else; and he preferred not be skewered by a barbarian before he could conduct his research.
He reached under his cloak and pulled out a small notebook. He unclasped the elastic band and opened it to a blank page, before turning his attention to the sky.
"PEEERDIX! Come down from your perch! I have need of you, and be quick about it!"
High above atop the ship's mast, a small strange figure stirred to life. At first glance it appeared to have the shape of a bird; a partridge to be precise. On closer inspection though, where normally there would be flesh and feather, this partridge had metal and clockwork. It had silver wings, and a bronze torso, with a glimmering red gem in its center. Its eyes opened with the sound of a mechanical iris, and it let out a robotic yawn from its golden beak, unhappy that it was interrupted from its lazy afternoon watching clouds. From below deck, it heard a familiar, nasally voice shout up at it.
"PERDIX! Are you going to make me wait all day? Hurry up and get down here!"
The clockwork partridge recognized the voice of its creator. It let out a resigned "Chirp" and dived down to the deck below.
Polymetus watched as his clockwork companion circled the mast and flew towards him, landing in its usual perch on his shoulder.
"About time. We'd have had this bounty halfway up the steps to the Parthenon if you'd taken any longer."
Polymetus then lowered his voice to a whisper so only Perdix could hear.
"You know how important this box is, and what it could lead us to. Now this is the first chance I've had to really inspect it, and I'd rather not blow the opportunity because my assistant is nowhere to be found."
Perdix let out a cautious chirp.
"Chirp."
Polymetus scoffed at Perdix's suggestion.
"Since when did you become such a worry-wart? If this was 6 months ago you'd have been as excited to take a look at this thing as I am. Now quit your complaining and start recording. who knows how long we'll get before someone comes running with a sandal that needs fixing or a sword that needs sharpening. Come on, we haven't got all day"
Perdix ruffled its mechanical feathers and let out an annoyed "Chirp..." towards its companion. It pulled its wings in close to its body, and the mechanical irises that are its eyes narrowed to a pinpoint. The red gem embedded in its chest began to glow, recording all sound nearby.
Polymetus grumbled something under his breath.
"Lousy good for nothing bird. That's what I get for going cheap with his parts. Should have brought the rabbit instead..."
Perdix responded to its master's animosity in the usual way, by angrily pecking at his ear.
Ow! Okay, enough! By the Gods I take it back, just stop already."
His ear throbbing with pain, he finally returned his attention to the box, and began to draw it on the blank page of his notebook. He studied its unique shape, and estimated its dimensions. He made guesses at what it could be made of, for it looked like no Earthly metal he had come across, and speculated about what it might hold; what bounty it carried that Athena herself would covet. He studied and questioned aloud, and Perdix recorded all his thoughts, so that they would have a record of it for later.
Polymetus then turned his attention to the mysterious writing emblazoned on the box. Now that he was up close to it, he'd hoped he might be able to decipher in which foreign land this script had been written.
Clearchus notices the older man kneel next to the Box, and begin to sketch in his notebook. The logical part of his brain told him that the drawings would be useless within a few moments; even if his pen was steady enough to draw in the middle of this ferocious storm, the rain and seawater would soak through the pages in seconds. In his experience, the more a man knew about the world, the more he forgot his common sense. He would notice soon enough.
He was suspect of the kind of attention being paid to the Box. Athena herself had warned them of opening it, and they had all heard the tales of Pandora. This man seemed like the type to let his curiosity get the better of him.
He turned to inspect the older woman to see what she would do.
Polymetus looks over the runes and notices that they aren't in Greek, but Babylonian.
The runes begin as such and then seem to repeat in different variations.
When the pretender sheds its master's shadow so too will us.
Clearchus looks over at the sailors, seeing if any are in need of aid to brace for the storm.
Porphyrion stands there dazed for a moment, not hearing Attalos's calls to action. After a few moments he shakes it off and comes to his senses.
He shouts out to Attalos "I'll head up there immediately!". Before heading above, he tosses on his Hide Shirt, grabs his weapon and heads above-deck.
The giant of a man reaches the top decks, and when he does, he realizes that many of the sailors and soldiers still stare at him. They weren't used to a man of his size on board, and Porphyrion swears he had heard rumours about him being moved around. Some were good, others were not.
Clearchus definitely sees the seafolk bracing for the storm. He gives a glance to his post but also sees the rocking waves and the ropes flying about, the crates shifting, and realizes that there is a danger.
The scholarly inventor Polymetus's clothing batters in the wind, revealing a strange clockwork arm; however the gasps from the crew barely register as he deciphers the text as best he can.
You realize that it may have to do with the Babylonian practice of astrology.
Suddenly, everyone on board the ship stops. There is a shaking and a stench that permeates through the sea-spray and the mist. At first, you think it is lightning and thunder, a peal from Zeus, but it only takes a moment before you see a snake-like ooze start crawling up the sides of the ship like tendrils.
It only takes you another glance to realize that there are more.
The stench of rot and decay fills the air, and before you can catch your breath, the boat lurches!
All those aboard are shouting and you hear a call to arms!
---
You recognize the rotting snake-like tentacles as a part of some offspring of Ekidna. Slashing them and piercing them would help deal with their rubbery, rotting hide.
You can recognize that they are immune to mind-affecting effects and carry a deep earth and sea rot... Judging by the smell and the stories of the serpent-mother who birthed it.
Ariadne
Porphyrion
Rotting Ooze Tentacle (Red)
Rotting Ooze Tentacle (Purple)
Rotting Ooze Tentacle (Green)
Alecta
Polymetus
Clearchus
Ariadne
Porphyrion
Sensing the danger of the fight Ariadne begins incanting a defensive spell.
Casting Mage Armor
Be careful, compatriots, this monster carries the rot of its mother, Ekidna!
Ariadne begins casting a spell, the older woman had been seen on the boat before, but many of those on board had no idea about what she was capable of.
There is a shout and a ringing of a bell as the sounds of the slimy tentacles start making their way up the ship's side. Many onboard begin to stab and fight with whatever they have. Attalos screams an order out, "Get those tentacles off and get us moving again! If the storm drives into us with this going on we're all dead!"
The ship shakes violently as the tendrils and whatever lies below grab hold and begin wracking it.
Porphyrion, unused to the motion of the ship, and hindered by his height is knocked flat by the rocking from the invaders.
The crew do their best to deal with the threat, but this is unlike anything you've seen before. The sounds of thunder begin getting louder and ore frequent, and you can feel the electricity in the air of a storm beginning to finally catch up. Some sailors are throwing spoils and even food and weapons overboard to lighten the load and hopefully make a quick escape once the winds catch again.
Alecta
Polymetus
Clearchus
Ariadne
Porphyrion - Prone, Extra Turn
Ship Thyella (-36 HP)
Rotting Ooze Tentacle (Red) - Grappling Ship Thyella
Rotting Ooze Tentacle (Purple) - Grappling Ship Thyella
Rotting Ooze Tentacle (Green) - Grappling Ship Thyella
Clearchus dashes up the steps towards the nearest tentacle, drawing his ranseur as he runs.
"Zeus" he shouts, "give me strength to cast down this monstrosity of the Deep!"
He strikes hard, with the might of the gods guiding his hand.
Ariadne manages to hold onto her spell as the bubble or magic surrounds her, giving her protection in this chaotic melee.
Clearchus' ranseur strikes true into the oozing mass of briny flesh; the power of Zeus that he wields being channeled creates a rumble from underneath the ship as the ship rocks from a bubbling scream down below the depths.
The crew aboard the Ship Thyella start striking as other oozy tendrils begin to claw their way up the ship, they are doing their best to hold them off... The tentacles of the rotting sea-beast being unable to cover the distance up due to the heroic efforts of your war companions.
Alecta
Polymetus
Ariadne
Porphyrion - Prone, Extra Turn
Alecta feels a sudden lurch and then panicked voices shouting above deck. She scrambles toward the hatch as the ship continues to creak and sway unnaturally.
Reaching topside she freezes and takes in the chaotic scene before her.
Porphyrion lies on his back staring at the storm above. For a moment he wonders why he's so lightheaded before realizing he hasn't eaten yet today. Still on his back, he reaches into his pouch and draws half a loaf of bread wrapped up.
The moment the food touches his lips he feels reinvigorated as his strength surges, and he devours the rest of it.
Porphyrion jumps to his feet and and swallows the last bite. Nourished and feeling strong again, he reaches for his greatclub, the trunk of a tree with the branches trimmed and a handle carved at the bottom.
Seeing that Clearchus is handling the Green Tentacle, Porphyrion sets his eyes on the Purple one.
The tentacles continue to crush the ship, the floorboards starting to almost warp out of shape.
The one that was struck by Clearchus removes its grip and feels around for the offender who struck at it.
However the hardened warrior is able to deftly move out of the way by positioning himself between his ranseur and the foe; instead leaving a barrel to be crushed beneath it's weight.
Alecta coming up from the hold, sees and assesses the battle, moving to fight off the monstrosity.
Pieces of rot fall across the deck and the boat lurches once again.
Polymetus tries to grip the Box but finds there is nowhere to hold onto and tumbles aside, his materials clanging as he hits the ship deck. Porphyrion gets back up with a grin, hungry for battle, but falls back down quickly as a lash from the sails flies freely toward his neck.
The crew manage to keep more of the grasping, seeking tentacles down although their exhaustion is starting to show.
There is shouting that the ship needs to get moving as the skies begin to get darker.
Alecta
Ariadne - Extra Turn
Clearchus - Smiting
Polymetus - Prone, Extra Turn
Porphyrion - Prone
The character is lying on the ground. A prone attacker has a –4 penalty on melee attack rolls and cannot use a ranged weapon (except for a crossbow). A prone defender gains a +4 bonus to Armor Class against ranged attacks, but takes a –4 penalty to AC against melee attacks.
Standing up is a move-equivalent action that provokes an attack of opportunity.
Clearchus, as he moves deftly aside, draws his shield and braces his ranseur against it. His warrior training had kicked in. The stance would be perfectly executed to form a shield-wall with his battle brothers. He moves into a stabbing position, thrusting the ranseur at the vile tentacle now laying flat against the deck and attempting to skewer it before it can strike again.
The ranseur digs in hard to the invading tentacle and as it tries to retreat back down into the sea, Clearchus holds fast, letting the recoiling limb rip itself apart in its attempt to escape.
A resounding cry comes from the seabed below, almost sounding like the earth itself splitting apart.
Alecta
Ariadne - Extra Turn
Polymetus - Prone, Extra Turn
Porphyrion - Prone