GM Fox's Ruins of Azlant

Game Master Fox--Pantom

Ruins of Azlant run in Campaign mode

When you board the ship things are hectic with sailors rushing around to make final preparations for a long voyage.
You are vaguely indicated which cabin of bunks are yours and you see there are several other rooms already full of various settlers.

The cabin is not exactly roomy, most of the space is taken up by the furniture, three bunk beds, a small table, and six small footlockers for you gear.

The mattresses are thin and the blankets cheap but it's all clean and fresh.

The rough planks creak underfoot with every step but the beds and table are bolted to the floor to prevent them sliding around.

((So is that two footlockers each? Or are we double bunking with six to a room - but only three in at one time on alternate shifts?))

Each of those bunks is a double decker bunk so there are 6 beds total

Walking up the gangplank, Luimener reachs down to scratch Tallagor's neck as he quietly repeats a phrase in Sylvan, trying to help soothe the animal but doing nearly as much good for himself.

As he reaches the top of the gangplank, he looks to the closest crewman and fails to surprise him at all with his one word question. "Colonists?" Following the indicated path, he stumbles into the small room. A quick glance around and he pats the lower bunk in the back of the room. The shaggy, green-furred dog hops up and the bed, circles around, and lays down in the middle of the bunk.

He laughs, all the stress and worry fading away in the moment.

Salaamati usually is silent and observes the water ... almost as if he is longing to jump in.

He looks like a human with pale grey-blue skin, almost white hair and limpid blue eyes.

During the travel you have seen that as an Undine he has racially defining traits of slightly webbed hands and feet.

He seems to be in his twenties, is very thin and looks quite weak but agile.

He wears light armor, has a rapier at his hip that is attached to his wrist with a very fine chain and wears loose clothing.

Under his clothing sometimes the holy symbol of Chaldira Zuzaristan is visible.

Now, he is standing on deck and looks at the people and the water.

Marching onto the deck, face beaming as she takes in the ship and crew, is a short but muscular half-elf. Rough-cut, shoulder-length black hair is barely tamed back by a scarf. She wears a protective buff jacket over black coveralls. Weathered, tanned skin suggests she has already spent a lot of times out of doors in the sun and wind. Slung across her back is a tri-pronged fishing spear that seems twice as long as she is (though it really isn't that large).

"All right!" She barks. "I'm Sal, my last crew called me 'Cannonball,' and we are gonna have a heckuva good time adventurin' together!"

Salaamati looks at Sal and has no emotional expression.

"No Sal, this will not be a great time. You can expect us to endure hardship, work like hell, and probably nonetheless some will die because of illness, accidents or attacks from wild animals."

He looks at the water.

"But we will know that we are creating our own path." the Undine says and looks back at the water.

Sal just grins. "Sounds like livin' life to me! Ain't nothin' come from lazin' about doin' nothin! Now don't go bustin' morale with that sorta droopiness, we got work to do!"

Salaamati looks at Sal with a blank expression.

“As you say!“

The gray-furred ratfolk that scurries up the gangplank and onto the deck seems to be doing their best to stay out of everyone's way. A portly body, the fur and the many layers of clothing and cloak give them an almost spherical shape, but they are light on their feet and avoid colliding with the sailors or passengers who are milling around. Dark red eyes glitter in the shadow of the drawn-up hood, taking in the organized chaos that is a ship about to sail, while plump clawed hands keep patting the numerous pockets and pouches about their person, as if to assure that everything is still in its proper place.

"There we go, we made it, didn't we, although we were almost late, yes we were, can't be helped, there was a queue at the bakery, can't leave without treats, no indeed we can't." The ratfolk mutters to themselves as they weave around those working or simply standing around.

"I wonder where we sleep, where indeed, will they give us a cabin? Or will we sleep in the hold? We'll see, we'll see."

Putting his pack on the bunk next to Tallagor, Luimener moved to the cabin door, holding it open as he says "Tul." The green dog's jowls seem to grow as he pushes his head down into the bunk, before allowing his shoulders to collapse before hopping off the bed and moving onto the deck.

Looking about the deck, the elf spots the round ball of fur almost as quickly as he hears Sal crying out. "We do have work to do. But as I understand it, not until we reach the island. Until then, we're pretty much just in the way." The dog crowds up against him, pushing him sideways as it looks for some comfort in this unknown environment. He absently scratches at the dog's head as he pushes back, not really thinking about either action.

Triix also heads onboard the ship, dressed in a wizard's outfit that looked like it came out of a costume shop, complete with pointy hat with stars on it. The main decoration is a pendant with the Butterfly of Desna hanging from it. At first glance she looks like an elf, even though she might be a bit short for an elf, and that's the way she prefers it.

She moves to stand next to the undine at the rail. I know that look she says quietly Thinking about home? Stranger in a strange land? I'm Triix by the way .. some times known as the Great and Powerful .. but ... sometimes it's more like the Abashed and Apologetic Triix

She falls silent and also stares down into the water.

Sal spins about to see the ratfolk approaching behind her. "Hey! I think we were pointed to a cabin there, to the fore." She shoulders her bag and strides toward it, spotting the green dog as she enters. "Hey there pup! Neat fur! Where do you come from?"

She then replies to the elf. "Well I'll help catch dinner," she points to a fishing pole tied to her knapsack, "So I don't reckon myself in the way."

Salaamati looks at the party and says nothing.

They always talk so much.

Since Salaamati didn't even acknowledges Triix's presence, she just shrugs her shoulders and heads off to find her bunk.

So much for making a friend .. if he won't talk to Triix, Triix won't talk to him.

Once stowed, she heads back out to find out what she needs to know. Maybe someone else might be a bit more talkative.

"Cabin? Excellent, very good. Many thanks." Sette replies to Sal, bobbing her head a few times. This was going very well so far, she felt, nobody trying to throw her off the ship, people even talking to her. Very well indeed.

The ratfolk finds the indicated cabin and spends several long moments agonizing over the choice of bunk - the ones that are not obviously occupied. Should she take the top one and be out of the way? The idea of clambering up and down every night and morning, hoisting her rotund body into the narrow cot and risk tumbling off to the deck with every sway of the ship... Nah. Bottom bunk it is, this one behind the door. She stuffs her heavily-laden pack under the bed, ignoring the footlockers present, then reaches into an inner cloak pocket for a waxed paper bag, peering inside anxiously. "Ah, good, not too squished, not ruined, very good." She then offers the open bag to anyone in the cabin, then to a few of the others that she had spotted on deck as being potentially other colonists.

"Sweet bun? Freshly made, custard filling, cinnamon, from the best bakery in town, there's a few with blueberries if that's more to your taste, oh, and a couple with walnut paste, they are really very good."

When Triix leaves, the Undine looks at her and coldly says.

”Goodbye Triix.“

Triix is currently filling a foot locker with books, star charts, and other stuff. She too had selected a bottom bunk.

Blueberry please Triix replies. She then double takes. Oh ... you're a ysoki? I had no idea there were any on Golarion. Did you fall though a portal or something as well? I'm Triix by the way.

A round sweet bun dotted with blueberries and covered in semi-transparent white glazing is offered to Triix.

"Ysoki? No, no. Ratfolk, they call us, yes. Many of us back at home, big warren in Jula." Her eyes cloud over for a moment and her
whiskers twitch before she resumes. "Good meeting you, Triix, very good meeting you. I'm Sette. Sette from the Tawhoq clan. Arrived by ship from Absalom, no money for portals."

She sighs, then her eyes brighten as she looks up at Triix. "You are a wizard, yes? Very powerful, wizards, can make portals, yes yes. Do you know anything of curses? Big, dark, powerful curses?"

Oh ... hehehe Triix giggles to cover up her blunder. Must have been a local term ... yeah ... that's it. Anyway .. yes ... I'm a wizard ... not exactly Great and Powerful yet even though sometimes I like to call myself that ... especially on stage. I .. know about curses and portals ... but can't make any yet. I'm hoping to, one day ... then I can get back home

She takes a bite of the bun. Wow! This is so yummy

Sal helps herself to a bun, practically stuffing the whole thing in her face at once. "Now thatf mof like itf!"

After she has enjoyed her treat" "Wait, did you say, too--Triix, did you say your name was? You fell through a portal? Wow! Where?"

"We appreciate your offer, Sette?" The name is obviously said as a question, probably looking for confirmation he has it right. "Any of what you are offering should be marvelous, thank you." Assuming Sette passes the elf a pastry, he begins breaking pieces off, offering one to the animal for each that he eats himself. "Very sweet. Stronger flavors than are often used in Elven food. Nice. Thank you, again, Sette. I am Luimener, and this is Tallagor."

Triix .. yes ... a .... bit of a magical accident, and I swear on my holy symbol it was NOT my fault, back in my home town ..... then 'zap' I'm wandering around on Golarion - thank goodness I was found by a group of Pathfinders. But yeah, talk about being a Stranger in a Strange Land .... as for where I came from .... you probably wouldn't have heard of it. It's called Qabarat.

Sette beams as her offer of pastries is accepted by several, her round cheeks bulging even more with her smile. "Lovely Luimener and Tallagor, very good meeting you, Sette is my name, yes yes."

Her eyes blink rapidly as Triix elaborates on the portal business. " You come from not-Golarion? Very strange, indeed, quite amazing, you speak the language very well! Qabarat is name of world, country, city? Is not-Golarion very different from here?"

When Triix mentions 'Pathfinders' Salaamati slowly moves his head in surprise.

Bluff to hide the surprise he feels : 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (10) + 8 = 18

"Are you a Pathfinder Triix?"

Qabarat is the name of the ... yeah ... city I guess. Not quite as large as Absalom but getting there. *sighs* And yes .... not-Golarion is Castrovel. You might know it as the 'Green Mother. I can point her out in the sky tonight, it's not that easy to miss. It's warmer, a bit more humid and just about everything in the surrounding jungle wants to kill you - which is why I preferred exploring the local sea.

She looks over to Salaamati. No, not as such but I did do some of their training. Mostly studied the Azlanti as there were Azlanti ruins on both worlds and I was hoping they had some means for me to get back. Still .. Golarion's not too bad I guess. Water is a bit cooler than home but nothing a few spells can't handle. I actually love to swim. She blushes a bit at that revelation.

Anyway ... you're going to find out anyway. I'm what's known as a lashunta She takes her hat off her head revealing her insect like antennae. ((Think Nebula from Guardians of the Galaxy or the Star Trek Andorians)) Telepathy - but surface thoughts only, and I promise I won't read your minds without permission. It's a cultural no-no anyway

She puts her hat back on. I'm a StarSoul Sorceress, astronomer, and stage magician. But, enough about me. Who's next?

"Ya know, I'm inclined to believe most anything, but this from a whole other world thing is hard to swallow..." She physically swallows, then mutters to Sette, "Got any more o' those you can spare?" before continuing, "But well there are portals to other planes, why not to other worlds in the sky? Man, I thought the sea was gonna be the biggest frontier to explore, but maybe there's more yet..." Sal drifts off, daydreaming of the possibilities beyond the stars for a moment.

With apologies for the pedantry, but it's Mantis from Guardians; Nebula is the blue cyborg. :)

Salaamati nods at Triix.

"Good. Please do not read my thoughts."

Without taking her eyes off Triix, Sette offers the paper bag still half-full of sweet buns to Sal. "We can see your world from Golarion? And you can read minds? Not that mine is that interesting to read, I'm always thinking about food, heheheh."

The ratfolk smooths one clawed hand down the front of her tunic, absent-mindedly brushing off crumbs. "Well, my story is not nearly so exciting as yours, Star Sorceress, no indeed. I am from a place called Jula, in the Sodden Lands, yes yes. Many divers there, searching for treasure under the waves, one day they bring up something very old, we open it and bam! - bad curse, very bad curse, more than half the people cursed. They send us young ones to search for answers, search for cure. I study in Absalom many, many years, find the Azlanti runes on the bad cursed artifact, maybe solution lies west, yes?" She strokes her whiskers, winking. "And maybe exotic spices, yes? For Sette to make delicious food with."

Sal shrugs. "You can read my mind," she says to Triix. "I ain't got nothin' to hide." She finishes by raising an eyebrow at Salamaati.

"For my story? I grew up with a bunch of river traders called the Fairfleet, who traveled along the Sellen River in the River Kingdoms. They plucked me off the shores of the Sellen after some monster ate my parents. I grew up fishin' and fightin' river monsters, and those stopped bein' big enough for me, so I came to the sea. Got bored workin' on trawlers and decided to put my skills toward somethin' more worthwhile here! Always felt most natural on water, I even got gills!" She pulls down her collar to show off the slits along her neck. "Though I'm a mongrel so they don't work as good as they should, but I can still keep from drownin' easy enough." She grins.

"My turn, then. I'm from, well, the Verduran Forest is specific enough, I guess. I doubt any of you have heard of Fusil." He scratches at Tallagor's hind hip, right in front of the leg. "We've made a deal with the fey, actually, many human generations ago. Might have had something to do with me managing to get Tallagor to come with me. But, if we recognize what it takes for the fey to come and go, portals to distant places don't seem so strange, even if you do claim it is a dot in the sky."

He stops everything for a moment, before gesturing towards the edge of the city. "The untamed world is important to me. I hope to help the colon . . .. Well, our home, I guess, recognize the importance of the world around us, and to work with it instead of destroying it as so often happens. Sorry I don't have webbed feet, or come from the sky or anything. I'm just a normal elf."

When Sal looks at Salaamati with a frown, he does seem to react with disappointment.

“I don’t like my secrets to become public. If you are different then that is your choice!“

He thinks for a moment.

“It is good that your name is Sal. Some people used to call me Sal. I do not like the name Sal. So if you are called Sal then I cannot be called Sal. Thank you.“ he says with genuine gratitude.

Triix actually squees when she sees Sal's gills. So cool ... I'm a long way off getting the waterbreathing spell but one of my hobbies is free diving ... I think the longest I can stay underwater is two minutes ... maybe two and a half. Please may we swim together sometime?

She then turns to Sette I've studied the Azlanti a lot ... I even know their language. So if you want help with your curse, I could look into it during the voyage She also looks for a bun and, if there is one, uses magic to levitate it to her.

As Luimener speaks, she nods in agreement.

Salaamati looks at Triix. Then wants to say something to them all but stops. Eventually, he looks curiously at Sal.

“Be glad you all live in this world alone. Being of both worlds makes adaptation more difficult. Hmm ... but Triix is of another world. But you seem adapted. Hmmm ... probably a land world?“

He stops everything for a moment, before gesturing towards the edge of the city. "The untamed world is important to me. I hope to help the colon . . .. Well, our home, I guess, recognize the importance of the world around us, and to work with it instead of destroying it as so often happens. Sorry I don't have webbed feet, or come from the sky or anything. I'm just a normal elf."

Sal nods at Lumeiner. "Can't survive in the River Kingdoms if you don't respect the wild. 'S'gonna be all the more wherever we're going. Don't matter what ya are if you can help with that."

Triix actually squees when she sees Sal's gills. So cool ... I'm a long way off getting the waterbreathing spell but one of my hobbies is free diving ... I think the longest I can stay underwater is two minutes ... maybe two and a half. Please may we swim together sometime?

"Heck yeah!"

When Sal looks at Salaamati with a frown, he does seem to react with disappointment.

“I don’t like my secrets to become public. If you are different then that is your choice!“

He thinks for a moment.

“It is good that your name is Sal. Some people used to call me Sal. I do not like the name Sal. So if you are called Sal then I cannot be called Sal. Thank you.“ he says with genuine gratitude.

"People also call me 'Cannonball' and 'brat' and sometimes 'good fer nuthin' but I don't mind whatever so long as I get ta fish and see the sea! As for you, I won't call ya Sal. I'll call ya Droopy, 'cause that's what yer like."

Please rest assured any obnoxious nicknaming can be dropped swiftly with either IC or OOC requests

Salaamati looks at Triix. Then wants to say something to them all but stops. Eventually, he looks curiously at Sal.

“Be glad you all live in this world alone. Being of both worlds makes adaptation more difficult. Hmm ... but Triix is of another world. But you seem adapted. Hmmm ... probably a land world?“

"I grew up on river barges. Always one foot on land and the other on water. My world's where the one meets the other. But banks and beaches are some of the most interesting places. The most dangerous, sometimes, where someone gets pulled in and drowns, but also where you find the most food. Sometimes, where you find the most peace..." She trails off a moment before snapping to. "Anyways, it's yer turn, Droopy. Where're you from and what do you do? An' lighten up, nobody wants yer 'secrets' or whatever. But as you so cheerfully pointed out earlier, this trip ain't gonna be easy. What are we countin' on ya for when the stormclouds gather?"

In the early hours of the morning you are all woken by the ship tossing violently.
Deeper sleepers may even be thrown from their beds.

There are panicked shouts and calls from help from the decks.

Assuming you head up

As you push aside the dash the hatch driven rain and sleet slaps you in the faces.
A fierce storm is raging, the dawn light is bright enough the reveal the extent of the chaos. Groups of sailors rush back and forth desperately trying to keep the ship under control and not under the water.

Raerg the bosun is yelling orders, even his booming voice struggling to cut through the sound of the the rain.

A spar has been snapped from the main mast and is hanging loose by ropes, thrashing back and forth in the wind.
Several sailors try to get to it with hand axes to a cut it loose before it hurts someone or breaks something.

Sailors scurry around the topsails trying to get the sails in before further damage is done.

The storm must have caught the crew by surprise as various boxes of cargo on the deck aren’t fully secured and a sliding around. There is a audible crunch as Brady, the halfling quartermaster, doesn’t get out of the way fast enough and their leg is caught between a box and the side of the ship

Trya Swain fights with the helm as she calls out in a strange language

What do you do? This is all RP and setting so don’t overthink the mechanical side, just think about what you would do. Feel free to roll a skill check or even ability check of some sort. Don’t stress about if its the right thing or not, I’ll roll with it.

Earlier...

Sette can barely contain her enthusiasm at Triix's offer of help. Her whiskers twitch wildly and she quivers in place with excitement, settling on tapping out a rapid rhythm on her knees. "Yes yes yes! I speak their language too! I have sketches with me, we can study on the way."

Now...

The swaying motion of the ship had lulled Sette to sleep earlier, but now the ratfolk was rudely awakened by violent rocking and much noise coming from all around. Even more alarming was the panicked shouting of the crew - never a good sign. Scrambling out of her bunk and up the ladder to the deck, she is hit full in the face by rain, wind and salt spray, making her almost retreat back into the relative safety and comparable comfort of the cabin. But the complete and utter chaos that reigns on deck makes her reconsider that course of action - she might be out of the wet and cold for a little while, but if the ship went down...

Brr. Not worth considering. Hoisting up the rest of her body, she looks around, her attention diverted to the helm. She briefly wonders why the helmsperson is speaking a language that apparently none of the crew understand before heading over and replying. "I can understand you. I'll shout at them what you say," she offers.

"OI! She says bring those sails in, bring the ship to and we move past the storm! Get to it!"

Triix had spent the evening on deck meditating at the night sky before the clouds rolled in. Most of the time she was staring at the bright dot in the sky that was Castroval, trying to send a "Hello. Here am I, I'm safe on Golarion" mental message as she had done night after night after night. She knew she didn't have the range .. but she hadn't given up hope for an answer - although after all this time, it was very unlikely. Maybe she had been written off as dead, her parents mourned than moved on. That was usually the way among lashunta. Life can be tough there.

She sighed as she clambered into bed that night.

It was fortunate she had picked a bottom bunk, with a picture of the night sky attached to the underside of the bunk on top, otherwise the landing on the floor would have been worse than it was. Not caring that she's only wearing a two piece outfit she heads up on deck to see if there's anything she can do to help, probably by grabbing a rope and doing what she can. That was then she realised she wasn't wearing her hat.

Cannonball Sal hops out of her top bunk and dashes out at the sound of trouble, grabbing her boarding axe as the easiest thing to use in a storm.

She replies to Trya in the same language.

She moves toward the group of riggers trying to get in the topsails. She isn't an experienced rigger, but she's agile and versed enough in seamanship such that she begins climbing one of the masts to get to them to help, using the spike on her boarding axe to help her climb the slippery mast.

Getting bounced out of the bunk by the weather, dog and elf find themselves splayed uncomfortably as they slide across the little floorspace and into the wall. Luimener grabs his belt, putting it on as he tries for the door, knowing the few things on it are tools he can quickly grab, that he might need.

As he climbs up on deck the loose spar grabs his attention, and he starts to head over to the mast to help cut it free, but as he moves he hears the animals and quickly realizes how close to panic they must be getting.

"Tallagor. Afad." Luimener calls to his companion, watching for the loose cargo instead of the cooshee's reaction. The shaggy green dog sticks close on his heels. He heads to the closest animal pen with beasts of some size, not worried about what chickens might do compared to cattle or horses, or maybe even hogs. He ducks the spar once, and has to stop as cargo slides by him a couple of times on his way.

As the ship rolls he slides into the fence defining the pen, knocking the breath out of him momentarily, but he grabs the rail and climbs over. Making his best guess as to which animal is the pen's alpha, he goes to that animal and begins trying to soothe it. After a few moments, and hopefully some success, he cries out again. "Tallagor. Leith." He hopes the dog's example will help calm the beast he is working with, as the dog lies down, next to the elf.

Handle Animal: 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (18) + 4 = 22

With the storm raging, Tallagor's Animal Focus is Tiger, for the Dex bonus. In case.

As I read the description, when I saw the loose spar, my first reaction was Looks like the winner! I have Climb, Acrobatics, and a small blade! Once I saw the bot about the farm animals, though. There are sailors working on the spar already. They're too busy to deal with the animals . . ..

Earlier with Sal ...

“I do not approve of this nickname and believe it to be inferior to Sal. Thus, I appreciate you calling me by my full name. Salaamati. I nonetheless thank you for your effort to continue to talk to me Sal. I know taking to me is not easy. Good night. I will sleep now!“

Now ...

Salaamati is on deck and sees the storm and chaos around him with little emotion.

He moves to Brady and tries to help him to escape!!

Escape Artist : 1d20 + 8 ⇒ (8) + 8 = 16

Earlier

Sal's hand slams onto one of the bunks as she attempts to block Salaamati from moving away. Her grin has dropped from her face.

"Now wait a minute. We've all put our cards on the table, said where we're from and what we do. Ships can be deadly, so shipmates have to trust each other. So you tell us where you're from and what you do, too. It's only fair."

Earlier ...

Salaamati thinks after Sal’s dominant request.

”Yes, you were all honest... and you personally were kind Sal.“ he says with a stern look on his face.

He swallows and looks at Triix.

”You intrigue me. Coming here was surely hard. But you have a positive attitude towards life!“

He looks at Luimener and Sette and smiles.

”I was born in icy water. My mother abandoned me. I realized that I would not be able to survive in the ocean. I came up to the land. I was exploited. I don’t fit in. But I have personal interests now. Those led me here.“

He looks at the door.

”Thank you for listening. Good night!“

We're just going to pause here for a moment to check up on Katria Bitterstream as she hasn't joined in yet.

I wonder if it's another case of having dotted and deleted and not receiving notifications of new posts. I've had two other games affected by that.

The helmsman gives a sigh of relief at Sette's translation "Thank you. Can you keep translating?" With Sette's help Trya directs the crew and the ship is brought back under control.

Fortunately for Triix with the chaos and the clouds no one is paying much attention to her unusual anatomy. She is quickly directed to various ropes that need tightening and other that need loosening.

Sal's experience with boats, coupled with a sharp boarding axe, allows her to easily ascend the mast despite the weather. Between her and the sailors the broken spar is cut free.

As Luimener moves amoung the beasts he quickly discovers the leader of the herd as a large ram lowers its horn to charge but changes it's mind at the sight of Tallagor. With time and practised skill the beasts are calmed and Luimener has time to check the fences and gates to ensure the security of the livestock.

Salaamati helps free the halfling to find a clearly broken leg but no other injuries.

Thanks to the party, the ship has survived the storm relatively unharmed.

Just to clarify, Triix was wearing the equivalent of a practical halter top and short pants. And, she was rather grateful she didn't have to explain the antennae. It was hard enough explaining it to her roommates but she figured they were most likely to find out anyway.

Later on, she asked Sette what language they were translating. When she found out it was aquan, she started learning it, hopefully with Sette and Sal's help.

Salaamati looks at the crew.

“Good. All clear Anybody seriously hurt?!!“

Just noting on the backtag from the earlier RP, Sal thanks Salamaati for answering her question at last and lets him go to bed in peace. :)

"Who's the ship's doc?" She wants to be sure 1) the doctor is attending to Brady, and 2) offer her assistance with the wounded.