Ruins of Azlant: the wonderful journey!

Game Master bigrig107

Starting the gameplay thread.

New beginnings. Freedom. Money. Whatever you're looking for, this journey to Talmandor’s Bounty represents those goals of your new life. When the Bountiful Venture Company contacted you with news of your acceptance on this second journey, you felt excitement, nervousness, perhaps fear of the unknown.

Whatever emotions you have, today is the day. Everything has been prepared, the food and tools have been brought upon the ship you'll be using, the Peregrine. The dock in Andoran is full basically to the brim with all sorts of employees, colonists, sailors, and more. All working on the singular goal of getting the ship ready and moving.

As you arrive you are funneled through a long line of specialists, medical inspections, and last minute preparatory inspections of both you and your equipment. After an hour and a half of being poked and prodded, you finally find yourself on the gangway headed to the deck of the Peregrine. Captain Jacob Markosi, a middle-aged man whose silver hair doesn't quite match his dark beard, silently nods at each of you as you board, although he is mostly preoccupied with his crew and making sure everything is going smoothly.

Ramona Avandth, a tanned human woman with practical clothing and short brown hair and also the leader of this expedition, crosses each of your names off a list as you board. She smiles at each of you warmly, and seems excited to see you.

"Ah, welcome! Thank you so much for arriving on time, and your patience in the exams. You know how these things must work, I'm sure. Either way, welcome aboard! We're having a sort of meet-up and get to know each other in the main cabin, feel free to head there and introduce yourselves! I'll be joining you as soon as I'm done here."

Most of the colonists from the list in the Player's Guide are here already, with every one of the ones you chose to interact with in your backstories being here as well, in case you want to roleplay some short interactions with them and the rest of your PC group.

With a whistle that is excited, cheerful, and nervous all at once, Ankha Brushbender boards the ship. “Thanks for the welcome,” she smiles back at Ramona, while anxiously eyeing one particular crate being handled by the porters. “I’ve been waiting for months to join this expedition, so what’s a couple more hours of exams? I’m just glad to be here. Though …” her grin transforms into a wince as the crate is accidently jostled, then steadied, “… please try to be careful with my laboratory equipment. There are some delicate instruments in there, and one of the inspectors nearly misaligned the condenser. Not intentionally, of course, but still …”

The stocky, muscular human moves on, making way for the next passenger behind her. Dressed in a plain blouse and a long skirt, with a thick cloak to ward off the stiff ocean breeze, she brushes a lock of tangled caramel hair out of her face. Ankha is immediately drawn to the halfling quartermaster, but seeing that Brady is busy organizing loading the ship, she opts for a friendly wave and a quick greeting in Halfling before entering the main cabin.

Inside, she scans the crowd before choosing to sit beside the middle-aged dwarf Alba. “Hi, I’m Ankha,” she leans over eagerly. “Isn’t this exciting?! What’s your role on this expedition? You wouldn’t happen to be an alchemist too, would you? I noticed the permangate stains on your fingers.” She holds up her own left hand, revealing purplish fingertips.

"I'll do my best to make sure they don't destroy anything. If they do, I'm sure we can find a replacement before we head out. Once we get everyone on, the crew still has an hour or so before we can actually leave. So we have plenty of time." she says, eagerly pointing towards the meet up room.

The rather stern dwarf alchemist is off on her own in a corner of the room quietly reading. She looks up when Ankha approaches, cautious, before she speaks.
"As a matter of fact I am. I was messing around with some permangate before Ramona let me know about this little...get together. How long have you been studying?"

The poking and prodding by a long line of specialists, medical staff and inspectors was tedious. She understood the reasons, at least the need to make sure nothing was left to chance, but amid all the bustle and way too many people at once it was more than a little annoying.

Ku’Hania takes a deep breath as she makes it past the last checkpoint, and heads up the gangway, steadying her nerves. Though she didn’t want to admit it, she was as nervous as she was excited by the prospect of what they might find across the ocean, though the thought of all that open water was immediately soothing. The warm smile from Ramona, the expedition leader is reassuring, and she gives a nod of response at the mention of the meeting. ”Thank you, it is…a lot.”

Taller than most women, the half-elf’s alabaster features stand out substantially, her seafoam green hair framed by the hood of the large light cloak that reaches almost to the ground, stopping just above her ankles and bare feet. Equipped for the journey, while definitely traveling far more lightly than most, the spear strapped across her back draws the eye, likely marking her as a warrior of some kind, though her emerald green eyes carry a wisdom that far exceeds the youth of her face.

Giving Ramona a brief smile, she moves on, looking around as she sees the numerous other people aboard for the journey, some she was already familiar with…like that irritating fop Harcourt Carrolby , a man who seemed to have no purpose other than to whine and order people around.

Feeling awkward, she seeks out Anya, the Shoanti ranger one of the few people around whom she didn’t feel out of place. ”So…today is the day!” she says pensively, looking out at the bustling chaos of the last minute preparations as she walks up alongside the huntress.

How long have you been studying?

“Maybe about five or six years? Seven?” Ankha answers happily and easily, seeming to not notice the dwarf’s caution and reserve—or perhaps she simply doesn’t care. “It seems like forever, though I know that must seem like a short time to someone like you. I still have a lot to learn, but I’m hoping to uncover some Azlanti secrets on this expedition.”

She fidgets nervously as the boat gently rocks with the tide. “Have you ever been on a ship before? This’ll be my first time. I still feel lucky that they chose me to go when there are so many other applicants, and with so much more experience. At first I thought they picked me for my alchemy skills, but that can’t be right with you here. Say,” her light brown eyes shine with the glimmer of an idea, and after rummaging through her backpack, she produces a worn leather-bound journal. “Do you want to share formulae? I recently figured out a way to make crafting quicker and easier—you probably already know how to do this, but I’d be happy to show you if you’d like?”

Braxton Horatio Wynters leans against the railing on the Peregrine's deck, a silvery tobacco pipe in his right hand, left hand resting on the hilt of his rapier. As he watches the crew working, he takes a puff on his nickel plated pipe, whisps of tobacco smoke rising and disappearing into the clean ocean air. The sailor is no stranger to loading cargo and supplies, doublechecking manifests and stores, and making a ship ready for sail, but this is the first time in his life that he is not one of the people doing any of those things. For the first time, he is a passenger. A customer. It is an odd feeling. He lets the ember in his pipe die, and flips the cap on before putting it into an inside coat pocket.

Braxton pushes off the rail and makes for the main cabin. He is roughly of average height and build for a human, with curly black hair and goatee and brown eyes. He wears navy blue trousers and tunic under a leather vest, with brown leather boots, gloves, and hat to match. A brown feather pokes out of his cap. A sheathed rapier hangs from a thick belt buckled over a green sash wrapped around his waist, the only really colorful part of the ensemble. The outfit is not an appropriate one for a sailor, be he is obviously no stranger to ships. Or risk.

Some called it foolish for him to leave the sea for the shore when the discovery of the lost Azlanti isle was announced. He was making good way in Inner Sea Sailor's Union and the merchant vessels that made up the private fleets of Andoran and Varisia, but the infinite possibilities of the (presumably) uninhabited Ancorato promised an adventure potentially greater than even the sea can bring. Adventure and silver. The old port towns of the Inner Sea were already too crowded with old money for any younger sailor to hope to carve their own slice out of the oceanic shipping and transportation industry. As a sailor, he would never be able to secure loans to build or purchase his own fleet. In a strange way, literally building from the ground up in a new land might be easier than attempting to elbow into the saturated shipyards and docks of Absalom or Magnimar and so, with enough supplies to find an appropriate site on Ancorato to start his no-doubt-soon-to-be empire of commerce, he offered his name for the next wave of colonists.

He parses over the assorted people gathered in the main hall. Obviously he was not the only one that felt pulled to the mysterious island, and a wide variety of people are gathered to try their own luck, same as Braxton. He recognizes quite a few of his fellow veteran sailors, including Lyra Heatherly, whom he has sailed with before. "Lyra!" He swaggers over to the ranger and tips his hat. "What brings you to the Peregrine? Are you working, or have you too decided to trade the seas for the shore?"

Arriving a bit later (but still on time) is a stocky dwarf with a beard dyed a vibrant purple, loudly decrying the apparent necessity of all these tests.
"I've been sailing longer than you've been alive, young man," comes one such complaint to a medic lifting up his gums to check for who-knows-what in his teeth. "I well understand the perils of scurvy and any other such malady that you might be checking for, probably better than you do. In fact, might I show you a trick to check the other passengers that might speed this up?"

But nothing ultimately keeps Dolgrin from boarding the Peregrine, and he holds his hand up to Ramona. "I do know how this works, of course, but my my it seems a lot. Regardless, good day to you, Ramona! I will gather with the others and get to it."

The dwarf strides aboard the ship, letting the sting of salt caress his nostrils. He sees that a young human woman has already begun talking off the ear of the other dwarf on the expedition. Not wanting to feel like a walking cliche, incapable of socializing with anyone other than a dwarf, he looks around at the other gathered before spotting two people with whom he had corresponded of late.
"Perrell! Carver!" he shouts. (The shouting is unnecessary. He's not far from them and the dwarf's natural resonance would carry his voice powerfully in almost any clime. The two likely wince at the needless volume.) "Aye, it's me, Dolgrin! I was looking for you lot!"

The dwarf toddles towards them, almost certainly interrupting their conversation, but caring little about the improper decorum. "Smell the sea, lad and lass. How fare you all on this momentous day?"

Apologies, my post must've been eaten up. Sorry about that!

Before much more conversation can happen. however, Ramona appears in the large cabin and claps her hands together to get everyone's attention.

"Greetings again, everyone, I'm so glad to see so many wonderful people together in such a place. My name is Ramona Avandth, and I'll be the leader of this whole ordeal for the enitre duration of the expedition. At least until we can connect with the first wave of colonists and set up an actual government there.

I know each and every one of you is as excited to begin this journey as I am, and I can't wait to get to Talmandor's Bounty and begin the next chapter of all of our lives."

She turns to a nearby table and picks up a glass of what looks like a fine wine, then holds it up in a toast.

"To the success of our future endeavors!"

For the record, feel free to read any of the conversations with the other characters. They're all happening in the same general area, so you can overhear any of them with relative ease. I only spoiler them so they're easy to read and don't make huge unreadable blocks of text.

Apologies for the delay on my end. My ability to focus has been off for well over a week now. I'll backdate a bit and not hold us up anymore.

Dolgrin laughs and thuds the oversized pack strapped to his back, which clanks and jangles with nearly a hundred pounds worth of gear. "Oh you know us dwarves: slow and steady but ever ready."

He adds his own contribution to the argument. "If you don't mind my two copper, though, I find it generally fruitless to speculate on the likely presence of absence of a given specimen unless it is to propose and test a specific hypothesis. But that's basic empiricism, of course. You were probably discussing the likelihood of different evolutionary offshoots given the migration of birds, yes? Fascinating, I'm sure, and a subject I wish I had studied more at University. Why, did you know that--"

Thankfully, Ramona saves poor Perrell and Carver from a lecture with her announcement.

"Later," Dolgrin whispers to his academic companions, standing tall (or at least as tall as possible) to listen to the expedition's leader. As she raises a glass in toast, Dolgrin reaches up to grab a mug of ale, not without a bit of effort. "Here, here!" he cries out in response before beginning to drink.

"Now, where was I?"

Ku'Hania returns the smile, before turning to look as Ramona makes her speech to officially set the expedition off. Following the odd custom she'd observed a few times, she grabs a glass of...something, drinking it in celebration, eyes widening at the burn of the alcohol as it goes down.

Ankha smiles warmly again when Alba kindly suggests that she is good enough, but just needed some more seasoning before joining the voyage. But when the dwarf describes the situation with her family, the human unwisely opens her mouth, as if ready to expound upon the virtues and importance of family. Fortunately Ramona intervenes.

The young Brushbender stands up and reaches over to grab a glass of wine, gamely holding it up as she joins in the toast. “To our success!” She takes a small sip, then wrinkles her nose, intrigued as she sniffs the wine more closely. “Ooh, I don’t think I’ve ever found tannins quite like this before. I think ...” she peers intently at the red liquid as she swishes it around the glass, then thrusts her entire nose into the cup. “Yes, this might work if I add some centipede poison … or perhaps black adder venom … and dragonfly wings, of course ...” She pours the rest of the wine into an empty vial, then retrieves her formula book and starts scribbling furiously while muttering out loud, oblivious to the rest of the celebrations. “Maybe if I soak the tibia longer this time? I do hope we can find some fresh ones on the island ...”

After six long weeks, this morning the crew of the Peregrine has finally sighted land to the west. The journey hasn't been a pleasure cruise, with very few opportunities to socialize with your fellow colonists. Everyone has been so busy either preparing for their arrival or making sure the ship is upket so you all get there in the first place.

A few hours after seeing land, the Peregrine sails into a natural bay with a sandy beach within rowing distance for the ship’s boats. As the crew begins to untie one of the smaller boats to lower it into the water, the sailors pass a spyglass among themselves and finally hand it back to the captain. Captain Jacob Markosi peers at the island for a moment before grunting and handing the spyglass to expedition leader Ramona Avandth. “You should see this,” he says quietly. Ramona accepts the spyglass and peers toward the shore. When she lowers the scope, she is clearly distressed but trying to hide her worry.

She gathers the four of you from your respective cabins or hideaways and motions toward the far side of the deck, away from where most of the other colonists have congregated. “Can I have a word with you?” she asks.

Few are happier to sight land than Ankha. For nearly half of the voyage she oscillated between seasick and violently ill. She had almost recovered after the first week, but a nasty storm wrecked whatever progress she had made and confined her to a miserable existence in bed. Finally, with help from some of her fellow colonists, and a mild remedy she concocted herself, the alchemist found her sea legs. The next half of the voyage was spent making up for lost time, brewing potions and tinctures that would certainly be welcomed by colonists starved for fresh supplies, while constantly tinkering to improve and adapt her portable laboratory to the uncertain circumstances they would inevitably face.

When Ramona summons her she quickly sets aside her preparations for landing. “Of course,” Ankha responds, eager to help as she quickly follows their leader. She greets the other three colonists with a bright smile. “Hello Braxton, Ku’hania. I know you like the ocean, but aren’t you glad we’ve finally reached land? And Dolgrin—I know you've been busy, but have you thought of a way to test my theory about Azlanti lifespans yet?”

It would be great (but not required) if one or more of the other PCs with more seagoing experience helped Ankha overcome her seasickness. Feel free to describe their help as you see fit.

Dolgrin was well-used to seafaring life. However, most of his time aboard waterborne ships was in colder climes than the one they were sailing into. Not even his leathery tan and the generous applications of sbeard oils and creams he had purchased before leaving could save his poor beard from the hit. As the Peregrine nears Talmandor's Bounty, his usually well-coifed beard was now a frizzy bush.

Ramona finds the dwarf atop the Peregrine's mast, his cotton shirt completely unbuttoned and off his chest, more wrapped around and tucked into his pants. The dwarf jumps onto the rope rigging and clambers his way down. Down on the deck, he scratches uncomfortably at his beard. He didn't want to shave, gods forbid, but maybe he could find some way to keep a bit cooler without diving into the salty brine. He buttons his shirt up and follows Ramona.

Dolgrin notes who Ramona has gathered. Curious. One company employee and three non-employees. Er, two academics, a hunter, and a businessman? Two humans, a dwarf, and a half-elf walk into a bar, and... Why they four over other possible sailors to invite? Surely there was some reason.

"You may indeed," Dolgrin responds, joining Anka, Braxton, and Ku'Hania. Poor Ankha still looks a half-shade greener than when she set sail. He reaches into a bag at his hip and pulls out a small chunk of crystallized ginger. "Ms. Brushbender, did you remember to keep up with your fluid intake this morning?" he asks her as he hands her the ginger. "You remember what I told you about the fluid in your inner ear? Unless you want to start doing cartwheels with Bean Counter Brady, the best way to handle an inner-ear problem is to stay hydrated."

Then he turns to her question. "I'm glad you asked! Since we don't have any proper full-blooded Azlanti within the crew, or to be sure existing on Golarion for nearly ten millennia, it's a challenging hypothesis for which to gather empirical data. If any of their physical records persist after all this time, they would provide a sense of their ideas of time. Better yet will be physical remains, which could be put through that dating procedure you referenced. Why, just figuring the age at death of a single ancient skeleton could take years, much less gathering enough evidence to be met with sufficient confidence by the academy."

Ku'Hania thoroughly enjoyed the voyage on the open ocean, going so far as to take evening swims with Haplo when the ship dropped anchor at night. The storms were a thing of absolute beauty, primal and untamed, though she felt some sympathy for those who, like Anka, didn't take to being on the ocean very well.

When Ramona comes and finds her belowdecks during the high sun, the follows the expedition leader, noting the other's she'd gathered with her. "It will be interesting to see what lies ahead of us on the new continent." she replies to the alchemist, glad to see her looking far less green at least.

"Something troubles you." she says turning to Ramona, not so much a question as a statement.

By the start of the expedition, Braxton was already a veteran sailor. He is used to ship life. Unlike many of the passengers, he was not beset with seasickness at the start of the journey and he eagerly inserted himself into duty rotations. He does advise those not blessed with sea legs as long as his to focus on the horizon if they are feeling sick. He is mostly worried about his mule, Blaudon, whom Braxton purchased to carry the supplies he would need to set up his claim on the island.

"Excited for landfall, miss Brushbender? Hmm, yes, well, as comfortable as this voyage has been, the future is not going to build itself!" Truth be told, the sailor is nervous about the future. He doesn't really know what he is doing, but fortune favors the bold.

Because the Bountiful Venture Company is a well-funded organization, he is not worried when the expedition leader calls him in to a secret meeting.

Once the group is gathered together and everyone is away from the rest of the colonists, Ramona speaks to all of you.

"We have a problem." she says, bluntly and all business. "Something is wrong. Nobody's in sight. There's no smoke from cook fires or the smithy. Some of the buildings look burned out.” she continues, her voice low.

She offers the spyglass to the group, letting whoever wants to take it confirm it for themselves.

"Sailors can't keep their mouths shut. Sooner or later, all of the other colonists are going to hear about this—if they can’t see for themselves already—and things could become…tense. We have to do something, before the situation gets out of hand.”

Dolgrin reaches for the spyglass and scans out towards land. (And he presumably sees things as described.)

"Odd," he says, handing the spyglass to the next person who wants it. "Definitely concerning, but also inconclusive. They could have moved to another location elsewhere on the island. Maybe they considered the building materials left behind unsalvageable. There are ample reasonable explanations."

The dwarf shrugs. He could ask why Ramona had called the four of them, but he also knows his reputation, so he offers his advice. "For my gold, honesty is usually the best policy. But a bit of creative storytelling can buy time, especially if the story is truth-shaped. A good tale for this is that it looks like the primary landing site had some trouble--we can all see that--and that company protocol was to move to a secondary site elsewhere on the island. So we're sending a small contingent out here now to investigate the primary landing site. They'll figure out what happened and meet up with the rest of the colonists at the secondary site later. In the interim, we pray that tragedy did not befall our predecessors."

With that recommendation made, the dwarf nods. "If you agree, the question then is who to send ashore. Employees? A classic adventuring party like in all the old epics? You know: warrior, thief, mage, priest? You're in charge, so it's to your judgment, ma'am."

You do, yes.

"Well, why do you think I called you four to the side? I'm sending an exploratory group to the shore, and the members of this group right here are among the people on this ship with actual experience that don't already have a job I need them doing here. You will take one of the ships' rowboats to shore and take a look around Talamandor's Bounty. I'd send the soldiers with you, but I might need them on the Peregrine in case anything goes south here."

She takes a breath, attempting to calm herself before continuing.

"There actually was a secondary landing site, designated as an emergency extraction point if anything happened to the first wave of colonists. I intend to order the captain to sail around the island to that secondary site, and see if any original colonists are there. Once you make it to the colony and clear out anything that may have taken residence since its apparent abandonment, you can make your way north overland to the secondary site. It's about a 9 mile trip if the maps we have are correct, and I'm sure they are. We'll meet up there and I'll make the decision where to disembark for good once I have your report."

With that she straightens up and nods, the course of action set.
"Any questions?"

Dolgrin's eyes widen and he looks around. He hadn't expected to be chosen for the exploratory group, and yet there it was. He's also pleased to have been right about a few points, mostly because it showed that the Company knew what they were doing. It's what he would have done, in any case. Story-shaped truth. He smiles and raises his hand in a salute. "Aye aye, ma'am. My only question is whether there's a spare map we can have to make sure we don't get lost on the way north. I'm a decent hand at following tracks, but it's not my particular area of expertise. Outside of that, I'll just need a moment to put on my leathers and get to it."

Braxton takes the spyglass and takes a peek. "Hmm. Well..." He collapses the spyglass and hands it to whomever wants it next. "These are strange new lands. We don't even know what the weather here is like. Could be a storm drove them inland. Not yet time to panic." The sailor sounds confidant, as always, and leans casually against the ships railing. "Who should we ask for when we find the settlers? Who's supposed to be in charge right now? Nine miles isn't an afternoon stroll, so we should be prepared to spend at least one night on the trail. Shall we gather our own supplies and meet at the tender in an hour?"

Looking through the spyglass, Ku'Hania looks over the abandoned building and open area.

"Something either drove them to another location or encouraged them to move. Are they expecting us? Would they know to look out for others coming to the colony at this time?" she asks, setting down the spyglass.

Worried speechless by Ramona’s revelation, Ankha spends the next several minutes staring wordlessly at the lifeless shore—first by anxiously straining her unaided eyes, then by sweeping the shore repeatedly with the spyglass, back and forth after the others are done. Fandrik! An uneasy knot gnaws at her stomach, worse than any seasickness. What if something happened to him? But no—surely her daring cousin would be okay? He has faced many daring escapades already, and has always come out on top. Hopefully this time won’t be any different.

Dolgrin’s sensible analysis, and Ramona’s agreement, help calm her down. “Yes … maybe they’ve just moved to the second site for some reason,” she repeats the others’ conjecture, as if to convince herself that there is absolutely nothing to worry about. But then it finally sinks in that she—she!—is being asked to form part of a special expedition. Any doubts about her value to this journey are cast aside as she beams proudly from ear to ear. “Don’t worry,” Ankha pipes in helpfully, “I don’t have as much military training as the soldiers do, but I have plenty of experience as a guard. I should be able to help if we run into any trouble. And I have an extract that might help if we do. I’ll just need some time to ready my armor and weapons and make a few other preparations.”

Turning to Braxton, the alchemist adds “And don’t worry—I’ll remember to focus on the horizon when we’re in the rowboats. I won’t vomit all over your boots like last time—I’m much better now.” She gives him a shy look that says both ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘Thank you’.

“And I’ve been drinking plenty of water,” she grins gratefully at Dolgrin, her cheery demeanor reasserting itself. “And maybe ...” she scrunches her brow, trying to think of a way to put a positive spin on the current situation, “… maybe the first wave were scared off by Azlanti undead?” Her voice quickens with excitement. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful if we found a cemetery filled with animated Azlanti skeletons? That would give us plenty of physical evidence to not only test my theory, but to figure out why they were so much longer lived than humans today!”

"Part of the original mission of the first wave of colonists was to map the island, so we don't actually have a completed map of the island. I will have someone bring up a compass to help you in the meantime, but I believe the landing site is directly north of Talamandor's Bounty."

"The leader of the first expedition was a man named Rayland Arkley. I knew him well, we've worked with the company together for quite a while before he took this responsibility on. He, and the rest of the first wave, knew that we'd be here on precisely this day. The schedule has been followed to the hour, they should be expecting us."

"I'm not sure what drove them away from this ideal settlement location, but I am not sure on that theory, Ankha. If undead did scare them away, why aren't there any left in the colony? Regardless, I am sure you'll find some clues or a note left behind for us to let us know what happened."

Ankha was a bit too eager with her undead theory, and Dolgrin begins to say as much when Ramona brings them back to focus. At the word "compass," he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his own compass, attached to his pants by a gold chain. "North is most of what I need," he says cheekily.

It was highly impressive to be able to maintain such a schedule, but Dolgrin would expect no less of the company. Why, you didn't need magic or clocks to handle such a complex operation, but Bountiful Venture had both and then some. So unfortunately that detail raises the stakes even more.

"Well, we'll look for Mr. Arkley and the others. Canvas the whole village for clues of where they went and pray that this are simple explanations for all this."

Dolgrin excuses himself and disappears below deck to pack his things.

---

In the dim below the ship, the dwarf pulls on his leathers--boots and armor both. His large bag is filled to the brim with equipment, and larger items stick out at various angles, lashed together in a precarious but somehow workable balance. The sharpest, bulkiest items (his spear, his marlinspike, and his grappling hook) are obviously outside and away from the cloth backpack. But other items (those less prone to being wrecked by inevitable exposure to the elements or the sea) are lashed in a makeshift bag above the backpack, wrapped in a wishing net. His clan dagger sits sheathed on his right hip and he leans his enormous spear on his right shoulder.

Before re-emerging topside, Dolgrin scrubs his leathers with a bit of oil to keep them from getting instantly water-logged, and then combs his beard and hair with some of the same oil. Just a bit of extra relief.

Back above deck, the dwarf triple checks his knots and loads into one of the ship's rowboats. He starts humming a sea shanty--a bit cracked and not entirely on-key, but recognizable nonetheless. He was ready.

Ku'Hania nods, glad to hear they would have the aid of a compass once they got to shore. While her innate sense of direction, made it nearly impossible to get lost while at sea, a talent she was delighted to discover over the voyage, traveling overland would be a different story.

Going belowdecks, she gathers up the gear she’d brought along for the expedition, checking the contents of her backpack and waterproof bag, packed with basic survival equipment. Unaccustomed to swimming encumbered, and still uncomfortable with the idea of wearing armor, she slips a cloak over her simple sarong and halter, trusting her agility and magic for protection should she need it.

Double-checking the fishing net and fishing kit she had attached to her gear, and belting the obsidian dagger in it’s sheath, she picks up her spear and heads above to join the others on the rowboat, her colorful little companion clinging to her shoulder. Dropping her gear into the boat and climbing down to settle into it, she leans over for a moment to trail her fingers through the water, the contact instantly calming her nerves.

Braxton raises an eyebrow. "Azlanti undead? Well that is... a theory. Ankha, you strike me as the kind of person who takes bad news well. An admirable trait, I would say."

====

Braxton leaves Blaudon and most of his equipment on the ship for now, and packs only the things he needs for a few nights away from the ship. He dons his chain shirt - under his coat for fashion purposes, naturally - and prepares to debark.

“Oh, well that was just a hope, not a theory,” Ankha replies with an undaunted smile to Ramona’s remonstration. “And the missing people aren’t really bad news, so much as … well, unexpected news.” With a merry whistle she heads below deck to gather her belongings, much of which has already been packed.

When the alchemist re-emerges above deck, she is outfitted in well-used leather lamellar armor. She carries a long polearm in one hand, a sharpened dagger at her waist, and a sturdy sling staff attached to the side of her meticulously organized backpack. Fitting snugly across her chest is a bandolier filled with an assortment of vials, including an extract recently prepared in case they encounter hostilities. Taking a deep breath, she cautiously lowers herself into the rocking rowboat, carefully lays her fauchard down in the bottom, tightly clutches both gunwales, and stares fixedly at the horizon. “Okay, I’m ready.” she announces through gritted teeth, wishing they were already on land.

Prepare 1 extract of Enlarge Person. Leave her other slot open.

"Ku'Hania," Dolgrin says as the pale half-elf joins him in the rowboat. "What's the name of your tentacled friend again? Not used to seeing them so much out of water."

He nods at the others as they enter and gets ready to take an oar once the crew lowers them into the boat.

The bay’s waters are calm, with only a gentle rocking of the ship’s boat. The shore is approximately three hundred feet to the east, where a lonely dock is built off a sandy beach. The small rowboat requires two people to row in order to operate, but as the bay is so calm (protected as it is by the land to either side of it), no particular skills are neccessary.

As you approach closer to the dock and colony, you notice that most of the land under the bay is comprised of multiple large sandbars combined throughout the area. It's obvious that the Peregrine could not sail any closer than it already had. The water is murky because of all of the water movement pushing up all of the sand debris, but none of the sandbars appear to have more than five feet above them.

It's above one of these sand bars that you are treated to your first experience of the island: an ambush! Two creatures emerge from the water that appear to be blue-hued goblins with the bottom half of an octopus, only with six tentacles instead of eight, and launch spears at the unaware explorers.

Attack 1, spear thrown at Ankha: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10 Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 4

Attack 2, spear thrown at Dolgrin: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (9) + 3 = 12 Damage: 1d6 ⇒ 1

Both spears miss their intended target, even with the element of surprise. The cries of the beasts are loud and angry, but the shouts of concern from the crew and colonists aboard the Peregrine are louder, as they see your peril and are obviously not indifferent.

Init, Dolgrin: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (2) + 2 = 4
Init, Ankha: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (18) + 2 = 20
Init, Braxton: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8
Init, Ku'Hania: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (11) + 2 = 13
Init, them: 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (15) + 2 = 17

It's a Knowledge (dungeoneering) to identify these beasts. The unique situation of being in a boat has some special combat rules in the adventure path, and I have copied and pasted them below for your information. Their surprise round (from their opposed stealth checks) has gone off, and it is now Ankha's turn.

Though Ankha emits a startled shriek as a spear flies over her head, she recovers quickly, thanks to her experience as a guard for her halfling community. Before anyone else can react, she quickly leans over and picks up her fauchard. Without wasting any time, in the same fluid motion she whirls it around her head and aims a heavy slash at one of the octogoblins. Or should that be a hexogoblin? “What on Golarion are these things?!”

Move Action: Pick up fauchard.
Standard Action: Attack enemy.
Attack (seated): 1d20 + 4 - 2 ⇒ (12) + 4 - 2 = 14
Damage (sharpened fauchard): 1d10 + 6 + 1 ⇒ (9) + 6 + 1 = 16

Note: I’m in a foreign country and having trouble viewing Roll20, so I’m just assuming there’s an enemy within reach of her weapon.

Ankha's fauchard unfortunately misses the first beast, whatever they are, by a few inches. The unfamiliar feeling of being on a boat while fighting unsettled her attack just enough for the thing to dodge.

In the meantime, the beasts throw their other spear before swimming closer to the edge of the rowboat and rearing up angrily.

Attack, Ku'Hania: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (7) + 3 = 10 Damage: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (2) + 1 = 3
Attack, Braxton: 1d20 + 3 ⇒ (10) + 3 = 13 Damage: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (6) + 1 = 7

Thanks to the surprise of not having started this combat aware, the spear does hit Ku'Hania, striking a glancing blow. Braxton's armor, however, pushes the weak spear tip aside easily.

The rest of you are up now!

before the attacks

"Ku'Hania," Dolgrin says as the pale half-elf joins him in the rowboat. "What's the name of your tentacled friend again? Not used to seeing them so much out of water."

“ Hapalochlaena, but Haplo is fine, he’s a bit more adept out of the water than others of his kind but octopi will surprise you.” the shaman replies with an idle smile, as they set off for the shore, her eyes taking in the open water and the expanse of the shore.

Caught off-guard by the sudden attacks of the aquatic goblins, Ku'Hania lets out an alarmed cry as the spear grazes her arm. While she'd definitely gathered her sea legs over the voyage, for a sudden life or death fight, she needed to be at her best, which meant fighting in her strongest environment...the water.

Immediately reacting she doesn't even stand, instead simply taking a deep breath and allowing herself to fall over backward and to the side, surprising her companions as she splashes into the water.

Immediately getting her bearings, she treads water effortlessly, the spirits of the sea immediately greeting her as an old friend as she calls upon her command of the water itself, a swirling column of water whipping around her arm, before blasting forward as a spiraling jet that slams forcefully into the creature, knocking it backward.

Swim: 1d20 + 12 ⇒ (8) + 12 = 20
Wave Strike (ranged touch): 1d20 + 2 ⇒ (16) + 2 = 18
Lethal Bludgeoning: 1d6 ⇒ 6
Opponent is pushed back 5ft

When used underwater, a deep shaman’s wave strike deals lethal bludgeoning damage and pushes the target away 5 feet + an additional 5 feet for every 6 shaman levels she has.

Meanwhile Haplo quickly disengages from his perch on Ku’Hania’s shoulder, swimming directly at the water goblin effortlessly, rings flashing bright iridescent blue as he attempts to bite the creature.

Bite: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (1) + 7 = 8
1d2 - 1 ⇒ (1) - 1 = 0 Minimum 1 damage
save Fort DC 10; frequency 1/round for 6 rounds; effect 1 Str; cure 1 save.

Braxton hums a little tune to keep the rowers rowing in time. He doesn't remember the words, but it's an old song about a little girl in a red dress, lost amongst an infinite field of white roses. A sad song, but the beat is suitable for rowing in time.

He is almost lost in thought when the blue goblins strike. "Tiny krakens!" He bellows, ducking a spear from the water. In a surprisingly smooth motion considering his seated nature and the behind-him-ness of his opponent, Braxton drops his oar, draws his nimble rapier, twists starboard, and delivers a killing blow to the water-goblin-thing's heart. He made it look easy, despite the presumably difficult situation. "Step lively, lads and ladettes! The Lucky Drunk is with us!"

Move Action to Draw Rapier. Stabby Action to Stabby.
Know: Dungeoneering (Untrained, Max DC 10): 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (11) + 1 = 12

Seated Rapier: 1d20 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (18) + 5 - 2 = 21
P Damage: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (4) + 3 = 7

Seated Rapier Crit Conf: 1d20 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (18) + 5 - 2 = 21
Crit Damage: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (5) + 3 = 8

Spend AoO and Immediate Action to Parry-Riposte first attack made against Braxton, though I expect the one on this side will be dead.
Parry: 1d20 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (10) + 5 - 2 = 13

Riposte: 1d20 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (20) + 5 - 2 = 23
P Damage: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9

Riposte Crit Confirm: 1d20 + 5 - 2 ⇒ (2) + 5 - 2 = 5
Crit Damage Damage: 1d6 + 3 ⇒ (6) + 3 = 9

Braxton’s basic knowledge of creatures gives him the name of this particular one: grindylow. But that’s about it.

Ku’Hania’s underwater prowess makes short work of the first grindylow, and the second one is caught right in whatever serves as this thing’s heart by Braxton’s rapier, killing it instantly.

And just like that, the group has overcome this island’s first physical challenge! The cries of concern from the crew and colonists become cheers of victory as you continue on your way to the dock unaccosted.

The first one is technically unconscious and if you’d like to kill it/capture it, it cannot fight back, should you wish to do so. No more attackers appear, so no need to use a panache yet, Braxton.

Knowledge (dungoneering): 1d20 + 4 ⇒ (13) + 4 = 17

In case we encounter them again, can I get special abilities and--if the roll was sufficiently high--whether they speak any languages?

Dwarves were not known for their swiftness. Dolgrin has just begun to grasp for his spear to thrust back at the grindylow when the other three--namely Ku'Hania and Braxton--end the threat before much has been done. He settles back down. His heart had barely begun to pump yet from the knowledge of battle, the pitch up from the mild exertion of rowing.
"Well done, all," he praises. "Not a tiny kraken, though--they are grindylow--from the clade we refer to as aberrations. Due to lack of study (as they are quite violent), it's unclear whether they are more the result of convergent or divergent growth patterns. However, their goblinoid appearance alongside the six muscular hydrostats, dual grasping appendages with opposable thumbs, and piscine features such as gills and selachimorphic dentition have led some scholars to theorize that their origins are more magical than natural."

His jargon-filled lecture complete, Dolgrin nods, self-satisfied, and points to the creatures. "That one is very dead, but the other looks merely unconscious. We can attempt to speak with it. It might have useful information."

Dolgrin thinks for a moment before pronouncing his expert opinion. "I believe I will be unable to speak with them as I am not fluent in the Aquan language. But if any of you are, then we can attempt. But they are not known for being particularly conversational. Forgive the Galtan pejorative, but despite their lack of an ass, they are a*+~&@*s. Which makes me curious if they possess a siphon from which they excrete their waste like other cephalopods. Hmmm..."

The dwarf shakes his head. "Irrelevant. If we wish to question the grindylow, I would recommend tying all of their limbs up so that it does not attempt to trip us. I can provide tips on tying effective knots or do it myself."

Popping her head up above the water as she swims beside the boat, Ku'Hania shakes her head. "Doesn't sound worth the trouble to heal it, or wait for it to awaken." she says, reaching over the side of the boat and grabbing her spear.

I'm no one objects, she'll swim over to it and finish it off.

“Well struck Braxton!” Ankha cheers the swashbuckler’s impressively deadly strike. “And Ku’Hania, that was incredible what you did with the water! I’ve never seen anything like it. You seem as at home in the water as your pet Haplo. How did you learn to do that?”

When the discussion turns to the grindylow, the alchemist nods in agreement with the shaman’s assessment, but interjects an eager suggestion. “Please save the monster’s body for later study—I’d love to dissect it to see if Dolgrin’s guess about magical origins holds true. Plus, it seems to be a mix of goblin and fish and octopus, so an examination might be helpful in my studies to transfer useful traits from one species to another.”

"By feel mostly. When I am underwater, I gain a fee; for the water itself, the ebb and flow of it, the feeling of it's power. The spirits in the water sometimes whisper secrets, hint on how to harness a fraction of the ocean's power. This was one such use." Ku'Hania explains, swimming alongside the boat.

Giving Ankha an odd looks she glances back in the direction of the Grindilow. "Alright." she says, before diving down to skewer the unconscious body on her spear, and swim back to the surface dragging the creature's carcass to the boat.

Dolgrin nods. A postmortem autopsy was far superior to a vivisection in any case, especially with intelligent creatures. He wipes a light sheen of sweat from his brow and takes up the oar once more, stopping to wave back towards the cheering crew of the Peregrine. "Given the heat, you'll likely want to take a bit of effort to preserve the body and prevent rapid decay. Draining the body of fluids and then burying it in a patch of dry sand might slow the process enough for you to come back to it after our investigation of the abandoned landing site. Just something to consider."

The dwarf also listens to his half-elf companion's explanation of the ebb and flow of the water, grinning throughout even as he reexerts himself to get the rowboat back on course. "How fascinating!" he comments. He was not one to discount the spiritual or the magical--of course not!--but he wondered whether Ku'Hania was tuning in to some other more mundane force within the water. "I have trained to feel something similar with stone--namely the resonant frequencies of different materials and how they respond to changes in temperature and moisture. There is obviously significantly less, eh, ebb and flow in something solid. But not none!"