FairyGM's Way of the Wicked

Game Master Therenger

Lol at that d3!!

Vormog takes a while to see the incoming ship because he is too nervous looking at the sea, thinking it will shift suddenly.

He does notice the shift in the mood on the others, so he turns to see the commotion. He sees the others are changing into their disguises so he does the same and turns into a grumpy old man.

As the captain and his troupe board the ship, he frowns and makes a grumpy face but stays out of the way, leaning on his spear disguised as a walking cane. For now he doesn't speak, but he counts the six bowmen. He looks at Aleece and hopes she knows he can help in case she needs some intimidation.

Donning her most benevolent smile, Rendylyn leans on the Frosthamar's gunwhale closest to The Blade of St. Martinus, near the archers' positions. The Knot really should arm themselves with bows.

It was clear the captain was set on an inspection. No matter they had the papers that Posh had painstakingly forged. Eyeing Posh and Rendylyn, Rayse said, "Captain Sambryl will want to see the warrant we carry, would you mind fetching it for him please?"

I don't know who is carrying the forged papers, probably not Rayce though!

Two of the men separate from the line and descend into the hold.

Meanwhile, Captain Sambryl asks, "What is your point of origin and what is your destination, specifically?"

I don't know who is carrying the forged papers, probably not Rayce though!

"If we run afoul of a Mitran patrol or harbormaster, our goal is to escape without betraying our mission at the watch wall. Our story is that we are on a covert mission for the crown. Posh forged these papers--" she hands the packet of stamped and sealed orders to Rayse "--to support that tale."

Hearing Rayse's question about the papers Treesa/Aleece calls out, "Sir Rodass. You have the papers. Remember you needed to review them because of the strange name. You wanted to have the pronunciation right before we arrived."

Looking momentarily confused he replied, "Oh I thought I gave them back afterwards..." Shaking his head he said, "They'll be in my pack, one moment please."

Having fetched the papers he hands them over for inspection saying softly for Sambryl's ears only, "Captain, as you can see we have a royal warrant which states the bearer is to pass without let or hindrance, and may commandeer such assistance as may be required. We are on a covert diplomatic mission headed north beyond the Watch Wall, the details of which are to remain confidential. I assume your men inspecting the cargo can be trusted not to gossip, right?"

Bluff: 1d20 + 10 ⇒ (13) + 10 = 23

Captain Sambryl squints against the glare off the sea, the salt wind pulling at his blue cloak as Rayse presses the stamped parchment into his hands. He takes his time with it. One thick-fingered hand smooths the seal, his eyes flicking over the words with a seaman's suspicious patience. Frosthamar lulls beneath your feet, and the creak of the patrol ship's timbers carries across the narrow strip of water.

From where she lounges by the gunwale, Rendylyn's benevolent smile does not falter; Vormog's gruff old-man scowl deepens, leaning hard on his cane. At last Sambryl lowers the warrant, the bowmen behind him shifting uneasily. He does not return the parchment immediately, first his gaze drifts over the lot of you, studying each face as if measuring the truth of the paper against the truth of your bearing.

A long, quiet moment. Then, with a grunt: "Royal seal's true enough. Orders have the right cut to the ink. And if you were smugglers, you wouldn't hand me something this brazen."

He tucks the warrant closed and returns it to Sir Rodass with a stiff nod.

"Very well. I don't envy you, whatever business lies north of the Wall. I'll not pry. But…" his eyes harden, "see that your 'diplomatic mission' doesn't stir trouble in my waters. Mitra's peace is fragile enough without shadow-play."

The two sailors clamber back up from belowdecks, reporting only the sight of crates lashed secure and no sign of contraband. There is the fire-brand, but that is explained in the document. Sambryl listens to his men, then gestures curtly. "Enough. We're done here. Back to the Blade."

The soldiers fall into step, retreating across the planks with wary backward glances. Sambryl pauses at the rail, casting one last searching look over the company assembled upon the Frosthamar.

"Safe passage," he says at last, voice flat as a drawn blade. Then he swings across, boots thumping onto his own deck.

Within moments, lines are cast free and sails fill. The Blade of St. Martius drifts astern, shrinking into the spray until it is only another pale triangle against the looming horizon. Frosthamar is left to the wind, the sea, and the relief of silence.

Treesa stays quiet while Captain Sambryl wraps things up and sails away. She really wanted to kill the men, but is concerned that they'd take casualties even if they won.

She stands beside Rayse watching as the ship moves away, waiting until it was just a small triangle in the distance. She changes back to her normal shape and smiles at him. "Well Sir Rodass, maybe we can track him down later. Bring some real trouble to 'his waters'!"

Great job on the forgery! That did the trick!

Vormog in an old man form actually stops mumbling when the captain speaks. He sips from his waterskin as the crew returns to the Blade.

After the ship is far enough, he returns to his form. He doesn't say anything, and only wants to end the trip over water. When finally speaks, he still sounds like the old man "Well, are we staying here or are we sailing onward?"

Rendylyn can hold her laughter no longer. "Sir Rod-Ass! Time to pull it out, Sir!

"That went well. I would have made them swear their silence to Mitra...we should travel faster than any news, though.

"Being prepared made all the difference. We should consider forging papers to support other, more general lies. Perhaps warrants that identify us as inquisitors of Mitra, licensed to arrest and interrogate suspects?" The young priestess drifts off, lost in thought as she watches the Mitran vessel drop over the horizon.

Rayse nodded to Treesa and replied softly, "I'm thinking about starting a book of grudges, by the time this is all done I reckon I'll need to to keep track."

He simply nodded to Rendylyn, the boat was too small to have privacy and even a whispered conversation was risky, it was just as well they were planning to kill the crew already. But it was true that the forged papers had proved invaluable, he gave Posh a questioning look.

Treesa calls Rufus over and scratches the dog behind one ear. With the link she has from him being her familiar she knows he really likes it.

"I hope I won't be in that book.... But once we've killed them will you still need to have them recorded?"

Rayse gives Treesa a surprised look before saying, "Nah you'd never be in the book! But see, already we've got Captain Sambryl, your parents, the family that sent you to Branderscar, that runt Django Creed and I'm probably forgetting some others. As much as I'd like to start whittling the list down, it seems to be getting longer!"

Night settles over the Frosthamar like a velvet shroud, the horizon fading into a seamless sweep of ink and starlight. The sea is glassy and still, disturbed only by the slow, lazy roll of the ship as it drifts on the calm. Lanterns hang from the rigging, their dim glow casting long, golden trails across the water.

Captain Kargeld, ever watchful, allows his men a rare indulgence. The casks are rolled out, and soon the scent of spiced rum mingles with the salt air. Laughter and coarse singing break the usual rhythm of creaking timbers and crashing waves. Dice clatter across overturned crates; rough voices argue over wagers, only to be drowned by another round of drinking.

The crew are wary sailors, hardened by long voyages, but even they are not immune to the pull of easy seas and free liquor. Their guard is lowered tonight. The watch is perfunctory at best, more an excuse to sneak sips from hidden flasks than to scan the horizon.

For the moment, the Frosthamar is a drifting island of noise and firelight adrift on a dark and endless sea. The stars above burn sharp and cold, watching.

Vormog looks at the scene which instantly reminds him of the Darkness Eternal feast and needs to stop himself from laughing at how pathetic it is. These men will never know true pleasure. He refrains from drinking, and just eats some travel ration, the blandness of the food matching the sailors' party. He watches, seeing who stays sober and who continues drinking.

Likewise Rayse doesn't drink anything but water, he murmured softly to his fellow Asmodians, "Tempting as it is, we must stay vigilant."

He wondered if the crew would also get drunk closer to their destination, if they did that could be advantageous.

Treesa sniffs at the spiced rum but takes water instead. She smiles at the men. "Sorry, but that doesn't make me drunk, just sick." She joined Rayse and Vormog at the rail to watch. "Yes. Stay vigilant. We may be moving slow but that doesn't mean we're safe here."

Knowing that she'll need some sleep before her watch she tries to find a quiet spot to lay down and sleep. It isn't as easy as usual though. Her mind keeps slipping back to the encounter. Should they have attacked? Would they have been able to defeat all of the men, without any of their own slain? If a couple of the crew had died how would the Captain and crew taken it? How about if the Captain had been killed? Would the men have accepted our orders? Followed the contract? She didn't think so. They would have needed some way to control them....

While the whole Knot is up, Rendylyn perches near the tiller and talks over the day's events.

"We sneer at the Mitrans for being so easily fooled by disguises and a forgery. But are we any better? If someone who looked like the Cardinal or Tiadora appeared and gave us orders, how would we know it was really them? If we found a note, could we tell if someone in the Knot wrote it? To serve our Dark Prince, we'll need tricks not just to deceive, but to see through deception."

"Let's start by devising secret signs and signals: slight gestures such as scratching a wrist to tell each other I am lying, or prepare for violence, or we must flee, or this person is hiding something. We could easily memorize a dozen or more meanings." She does her best to draw the others in to her project.

We seem to have plenty of time to spend. GMT, could we take twenty on a Linguistics check to come up with secret codes that give us a decent circumstantial bonus when using Bluff to pass hidden messages?

That seems reasonable.

Treesa keeps her voice down. While they plan to kill everyone, Captain and crew, there's no reason to share their signals with them. Besides, the Captain had been very clear on how little he appreciated the value of the team's planning!

"Good idea Rendylyn. I think I'd add 'create a distraction'. And I'm sure everyone else would have an idea or two."

Vormog nods at the suggestion and says "Also, I am me. You know... In case someone is impersonating us."

Rayse nodded, "I think we can work with that... It might make sense for all of us to learn an obscure language too."

Rayse has a good bluff skill which can be used to send hidden messages. Only problem is unless I burn a feat (Cunning) he can't pick up Sense Motive due to lack of skill points. But presumably that's not a problem for a pre-arranged code.

"Obscure languages aren't as secure as you might think--spells to understand them are among the first ones priests and wizards learn. Still, I'm glad everyone's Infernal is improving."

Sense Motive is useful for understanding hidden messages other people are trying to sneak past you, but you don't need it to understand hidden messages someone is sending you. Only the sender's Bluff matters.

Go ahead and place your tokens on the map of the ship in the link to the Frosthamar Map. What is the night watch order?

I couldn't figure out how to add an image to the map, so I made a 5' circle and put a red R in it for Rendylyn.

Assuming we keep 10 hours watch, 2 hours each:

1st watch, 9-11 pm: ?
2nd watch, 11 pm-1 am: Rendylyn
3rd watch, 1-3 am: ?
4th watch, 3-5 am: ?
5th watch, 5-7 am: ?

I put pictures of us on the ship.

Treesa and Rufus would prefer the 1st or 5th watch.

Thanks Trees'. Put myself well in the middle, as Vormog is uncomfortable on the boat.

Vormog takes the first watch.

Rayse volunteers for the worst watch, in the wee small hours of the night. Later if lord Asmodeus granted him spells he might demur, but for now it was all good.

4th watch.

A night fog curls around the Frosthamar like a living thing. The salt-laden dampness settles across the deck, weighing down sails and clothing alike. The crew moves quietly now, their usual clamor reduced to tense whispers and nervous glances over the side. The horizon is a grey smear; even the moon seems hesitant tonight.

Then the water ahead shivers. Not a wave, not a ripple, but a quivering that runs across the surface like the skin of a drum. The Frosthamar rocks slightly, and the sound of scales sliding through water reaches your ears. The crew scurry below deck, cursing in a northern tongue. Kargeld grips the tiller uselessly, scowling at the sea. Water slaps hollow against the hull, each wave like a heartbeat. The captain levels his gaze at you but says nothing, then follows his crew down into the hold. The party is left above to fulfil its duty to the ship.

From the silver-grey mist, a figure rises. Bronze-skinned, glistening wet, with hair streaming like seaweed in the wind, he climbs fully onto the deck as if it were a natural extension of the sea itself. In one hand gleams a spear that seems to catch what little light there is, fracturing it across the deck. In the other, a shield embossed with a shining sun, the symbol of Mitra, reflects the fading light in blinding flashes. His eyes, deep and unyielding, scan the party and the ship alike, and you feel the weight of divine judgment pressing down like the tide itself.

"I am Nerianus, knight of the waves, sworn champion of Mitra," he calls, his voice cutting through the fog. "I know you for what you are — servants of the fallen prince, breakers of chains, defilers of light. Your voyage ends here!"

From the water around the ship, more shapes emerge — triton warriors, lean and purposeful, holding crossbows, forming a living ring around the Frosthamar. Their tails lash the water into froth, the deck rocking beneath their rhythm.

Nerianus plants his spear tip against the deck, the sound ringing sharp, and eyes each of you individually. "By Mitra’s light, you must face the righteous hand of the sea!"

The waves swell as if in agreement, and the wind picks up, carrying the taste of salt and tension.

Watch: 1d5 ⇒ 5

Treesa may act. Everyone else is asleep.

Can you clarify whether Neranius is speaking on his combat turn? Is Tressa the only one who hears his proclamation and the sharp ring of his spear, as he eyes and addresses our sleeping forms?

Also, does the wakeful captain and crew's scurrying and cursing do nothing to wake us as they descend into the hold?

Only Treesa is awake on watch. The rest of you are asleep.

I'm assuming that with the sound of the scales sliding through water, the crew all moving below deck and the captain gazing at me before also moving below deck, I have a round or two to cast a spell for myself? Mage Armor on myself and Rufus?

Treesa steps forward, (stepping on the sleeping men) responding very loudly to the creature that has climbed aboard the ship. "Hello Nerianus, knight of the waves, sworn champion of Mitra. But I think you are mistaken. Why are you speaking of us as servants of the fallen prince, breakers of chains, defilers of light. We aren't the ones committing a dishonorable sneak attack. Where is Mitra's Light as you commit such an evil act!?"

I'm assuming that with the sound of the scales sliding through water, the crew all moving below deck and the captain gazing at me before also moving below deck, I have a round or two to cast a spell for myself? Mage Armor on myself and Rufus?

That might make narrative sense but it defeats the point of the setup for this encounter. The fog denies you any kind of surprise action. You are walking and intentionally trying to step on one of your party members. Go ahead and pick one to wake up automatically.

Also, prone characters receive cover from the rail, against the Triton warriors' ranged attacks. Standing characters get partial cover. This works both ways but the character that is closer to the rail wins. Frosthamar has been described as sitting heavy in the water, laden with iron. She is easy to climb in and out of. There is no height advantage one way or the other.

She would want a warrior up. 1-3 Vormog, 4-6 Rayse: 1d6 ⇒ 3

May Treesa make a Knowledge: Planes check as part of her turn to know stuff about the tritons?

Vormog opens his eyes to Treesa poking his shoulder. He looks around and realizes what is happening immediately.

Can I act?

Perception to wake: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (19) + 7 = 26

What's that witch shrieking about? Rendylyn stirs, then freezes as she realizes foes are near. Has that patrol returned? Or pirates? She thinks of the Mitran marines with their ready longbows and snatches a scroll from her pouch. Strange, wavery Infernal words rise up from the scroll as she reads them, melting into a fog that blankets the ship in seconds.

Rendylyn casts Obscuring Mist from a scroll. I've added its area of effect to the map.

Perception: 1d20 + 1 ⇒ (8) + 1 = 9 I'm unsure of the DC but I doubt that roll passes.

Rayse stirs in his sleep before rolling over and starting to snore softly, his dreams flicked between violent fantasies of the crew's demise and fantasies of an entirely different sort involving Treesa.

Treesa barks a couple of times. And ducks if she sees any of the Tritons flinch like they are about to fire at her.

Using Feral speech Treesa orders Rufus to wake the others by running/hopping over them. I'm imagining my sister-in-law's 80 pound dog jumping on someone asleep. Why? Because she has jumped on me/ran over me a couple of times while I was comfortably napping!

Posh Perception: 1d20 + 6 - 10 ⇒ (6) + 6 - 10 = 2

Treesa and Rufus quickly awaken Vormog and Rayse, and Rendylyn regains consciousness with a start and a spell on her lips. Posh continues to slumber blissfully unaware of danger and doubly shrouded in fog and blinding mist.

"Ahh, the dark Prince hides his cowardly followers from the Sun God's righteous light!" crows Nerianus. He makes another sound and you hear what might be a splash of seawater on the deck somewhere within your cleric's magical mist.

Great spell. I love it because it works both ways. What just happened? Nobody knows...

Combat Order:
Treesa Lore
Rendydlyn the Red Waif (asleep)
Posh Stemtimple (asleep)
Nerianus
Triton Warriors
Vormog Lough <-- We are here
Dolphins
Rayse

Vormog gets up while grabbing his longspear and casts a combat spell. He summons Asmodeus' power to regenerate himself.

I hope I can get up and grab the longspear in the same move action. Activate Judgement of Healing with Judgement surge for Fast Healing 2. Cast Divine Favor.

Vormog, you can retcon your action if you like, based on Discussion. We'll keep it moving.

Vormog prepares himself for battle and dolphins do dolphin things, presumably. You can't see them.

Combat Order:
Treesa Lore
Rendydlyn the Red Waif (not asleep)
Posh Stemtimple (asleep)
Nerianus
Triton Warriors
Vormog Lough
Dolphins
Rayse <-- We are here

Rendylyn rises to her feet and steadies her shield, alert to any movement in the fog. She hears Vormog invoking Asmodeus's favor and answers with an infernal call to war. That should stiffen all their spines--even the crew cowering in the hold, if we can convince them to stand with us.

Rendylyn casts Bless.

Treesa sees/hears her companions waking up. She ducks down and casts Mage Armor on Rayse. Unable to see the enemy she calls Rufus to her to wake Posh, then stay nearby to protect against any enemy that boards near her.

Vormog picks up the morningstar instead of the longspear.

Waiting to hear on Rendy's take on the judgement discussion to see if I retcon that.

Posh totally sleeps i his armor, it's a chain shirt!

Perception: 1d20 + 6 ⇒ (14) + 6 = 20

So...

Posh will start his bardsong for +1/+1 to everyone, and grab his weapons.

Before the mist sets in, Vormog takes a quick look and uses Asmodeus' boon he acquired while exploring the test dungeon under the cardinal's mansion.

Using auto-succeed on knowledge check from this post. Extra information about special attacks required.

Rayse's was dreaming of something special, when 80lbs of enthusiasm decided it was time for him to awake, still half asleep he muttered "What?! No! Get off!"

He realizing at once that something was very badly wrong. He rolled onto his feet, pulling his sword, which he kept next to his bed roll, out of its scabbard in the same motion. Without even thinking twice about it, he stepped in front of Treesa. Whatever was out there would have to come through him first.