Ambrose "Fishguts" Kroop's page

Jasmine should be back to health by this day. Jasmine will go to the Ambrose and ask him for a small loan. "My friend Ambrose," smiling and flickering her wind blown hair a bit, "Is there anyone that you spot me some coin, to get some of my equipment back. I know its asking a bit much...but...without gear, its basically a deathwish on the first boarding.

Looking at him with her bluish green eyes, "I'm pretty good at mending items, if you have need."

Pausing for a bit, "If ye need anything written, a letter, a receipt or anything at all, I've got a realy pretty script."

[dice=Diplo]1d20+6

"Well... I kin pass ye a han'full. Fifteen gol' worth 'nuff, lass? Dun worry 'bout no paper. I'll 'member."

He rummages through his pouch and gives you a handful of gold and silver that total 15 gp.

"The less' ye see o' tha' one, the bett'r, lass." he says as he walks down to the galley and seats himself. "Jest come by a' the galley when ye wake."

After swapping tales with Fishguts, Jasmine would ask, " What about Cut-Throat Grok, and his "Shop, she runs. What can you tell us about that one? And how about Master Gunner Krine, what news of her?"

[dice=Diplomacy]1d20+6

"Grok? She's a good one. Only person I'd say be a friend on th' ship t'me. The quart'rmaster's stores b'long te the cap'n, but everythin' 'as a price 'ere. Grok'll sell ye any loot ya need.", he finishes off his rum and thinks. "Master Gunner Krine? Handsome lass, angry though. Lost that leg on an errant shot from one o' her machines. Good at 'er job an' got quite a tongue on 'er. Loves ta fight n' drink."

"Tha's a poor run o' luck, lass.", he replies and scratches under Black-Hearted Bezebel's beak. "Keep yer 'ead down, do yer work an' things got a better chance o' bein' smooth sailin'."

Ambrose is amused enough by Jasmine's story, and charmed enough by her flirting "If I was twenty years younger n' fourty pounds lighter, I'd take ye up onnat..." that he's now Helpful. If he's around whenever anyone is trying to influence an NPC (ie. he's not drunk), you can receive a +2 bonus on your check as he speaks up for you. You can also borrow items and money from him (within reason).

Allysen, you get the sense that he has more in common with your situation than he does with the other officers.

After telling an amusing tale involving one of his mates at sea falling in love with what he thought was a mermaid, but was actually a woman posing as one to get him to "sacrifice" treasure to her sea gods, he finishes his cup and looks out the porthole.

"Is poison, this ship is.", he says suddenly. "But don' let anyone 'ear you say it aloud. Th' 'ull listens, see, an' the cap'n 'ears i'all. Poison, the Wormwood is, though, rotten t' th' core.", he pours himself another drink. "Ye'll not mee' a more nasty, sour piece o' work than Cap'n 'Arrigan in all yer days at sea, an' 'is crew be the same, 'specially the First Mate, Mr. Plugg. Vicious lil' sod 'e is. E'd take 'is own mother's liver to th' butcher to make pies wit', 'e would. But they leave me alone, mostly. They know I can't 'arm 'em." He suddenly looks very sullen and walks over to a large, black cockerel that Allysen knows he calls "Black-Hearted Bezebel" and is his favorite bird of the bunch. He picks the bird up and perches it on his shoulder. "Well, enough 'o tha', lass. Where ye from 'fore ye were snatched up?"

At that moment, Jasmine walks into the galley, looking for her beloved Flotsam.

Allysen, are you going to take any ship actions? Normally you'd get two for drinking with him but since you're opting out of that part, you only get one.

Allysen just nods her head and heads off to the galley.

"Cook's mate reportin', Mister Kroop"

Sorry had some work around the house to finish.

She arrives in the galley and sees Ambrose sitting at a table with a cask and two mugs.

"Ahh, Alyssen. On time. Yer already doin' better th'n the last cook's mate.", he grins. "T'day there ain't any special tasks fer us so we're gonna spend a wee bit o' time just lazin' about 'ere, drink n' talk." He pours out a small cup of rum for her. "Sit! Sit! This ain't a trick, lass. I ain't the hardass that Plugg is."

He downs his cup in a few gulps and pours himself some more.

You got the best "job" of the day. Sit, drink and talk with the cook before you guys cobble something together for dinner. You must drink an additional rum ration but you get two morning ship actions today.

"Thank ye. Don't worry about me slippin'. I be a hard worker, pretty much raised on the decks."

Allysen takes a knife from one of the counters and peels the orange. She gives half of it to Kroop with a smile. The orange tastes sweet and juicy after having the aftertaste of rum in her mouth all day.

He nods to her in thanks.

"Ye run off 'n 'njoy th'evenin'. Plenty o' work fer ya on the 'morrow. 'Sides, I 'as an ol friend visitin' ta share a bottle or two o' rum."

He starts to wave her out. "G'on lass, away with ye!" he says as he ambles on over to his room, humming an old sea shanty.

"Er, right, right. I'll be off then. Sorry fer the trouble."

The sound of Master Scourge's voice makes her heart skip a beat, but she continues on to the galley to continue working.

Allysen's aim is true with the harpoon and manages to catch more than enough sea turtles for the evening meal. She spends most of the day cooking the feast for the crew and can see that despite his disheveled appearance, Kroop is a masterful chef and a magician in the galley, as long as he's sober.

"Good work, lass!", the master cook exclaims at the end of Allysen's day as he wipes his hands off on his dirty apron. "Yer a far cry bet'r than me las' cook's mate, Allysen. Keep 'er up an' ye'll keep ou'a trouble." he grins happily and pulls out a fresh orange from one of the crates, tossing it to her. "Dun get used ta that, but y'earned a bi' o' somethin' nice today. Be 'ere bright n' earlie t'morrah."

Allysen looks around to see if anything is cooking and to see what's in there.

Perception: 1d20+7

"So what'll ye have me doin' first, Mister Kroop?"

Probably going right over the poor guy's head.

There is nothing cooking as of yet.

"Ahh... r'placement fer ol' Jonesy, rest 'is poor soul."

The large man stands up and walks unsteadily towards Allysen. "A'righ, so yer 'ere, we'll start yer duties. We be huntin' fer sea turtles today, lass. Cap'n 'Arrigan's favorite an' a special request. Hope ye know how ta use 'arpoons." He walks over to the wall and starts gathering a pair of harpoons, nets, and treble hooks. "What's yer name, lass?" he asks with curiosity.

Successfully hunting the sea turtles requires a DC 10 Profession (fisherman) or DC 10 Survival check.

"New cook's mate reporting, Mister Kroop."

"Eh, wha? Cook's mate, lass?", ask a large, some would say fat, man who has to weigh over 200 pounds despite being naught but five feet tall. He exudes an air of neglect, perhaps even of despair, from the bushy tufts of black hair behind his ears, to his rotting teeth and the stains on his filthy apron.

He doesn't seem hostile, but his bloodshot eyes and slurred speech indicates that he's either hungover, drunk or somehow both.

Gah! I almost forgot to post. Take me out of the running-I've convinced my DM to start up a Kingmaker campaign this Saturday and roped in some players.

Thank's for the opportunity though and good luck to you guys!