Thanks for taking me along for this ride. It's been a lot of fun. Especially from what we remember about The Tale of How the Crew of The Audacious Became Barred from the Thirsty Scholar (For Life).
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Unaccountably stunned by the sudden idea of fighting under water Gratum stares deep into the depths and watches as Mtumbwi splashes into the cool sea. He hardly registers Gado's words that sound smart, but he doesn't recognize what they mean.
He keeps staring down, and seems to think that the two have their fight with the eels in hand. But he grips the side of the boat tightly.
"That should do the trick!" though it doesn't really look like much, he's convinced it'll help. So he feels it is time to start feeling a little queasy. Just to prepare...
Gratum begins, drunk, in the middle of the night, to search for a suitable beggining to his tower of beer idea. Now really needing it.
By breakfast he is slumped over, beside a keg and his marvel of engineering. Until prodded to get up and eat. Eventually durring discussions of who shall go where, Gratum simply says, "I'm going with."
Late into the night, Gratum sits and watches the fire. Keeping Ciaran company, and drinking twice as much. He watches Baszil strut away from the party long before the night is over, Lucy swinging by his side, after Baszil has passed he says to Ciaran, "He seem somehow more certain of himself right now?..." Eventually, when the party has died down quite a bit, he sees the Chief dragging Gado away towards her hut. Again speaking to Ciaran, "Heh! Good on the boy, he can't learn everything in books..." The next morning he hears, "So that grease spell. Works pretty good for more than just your hair huh? Heheh..." And spits out his beer! These mugs are too small. he thinks. Then wanders over to Elon, "I have an idea," he says with urgency. He points to the kegs and raises his eyebrows, "It comes in towers."
Gratum laughs. Then realizes Aeslin's serious about the request.
Unsure he's sufficiently explained, he continues, "Besides, if we're exploring (which is our mission), we don't know where the road should end yet, or turn, or need a bridge."
Gratum looks among his companions as he drinks, hears their different thoughts. The ivory tap seems a waste, 'till it goes missing... he muses, then considers the future of their expedition, and finally states "It's a shame we can't take the ship inland, down the road with us." he completes his thought in Taldane, "Mean's we'll have to leave anything bigger than a basilisks head behind."
Muttering to himself to keep from drawing attention, still in his sneaky mindset, Gratum thinks, These guys don't understand a fight like a warrior. Better keep the one who does alive...
Gratum reaches Ciaran's side and ...
Gratum lowers his sights on the beast. Breaths slowly. Prepares to pull the hair trigger on his crossbow. Looks for a spot on it that seems vulnerable.
But the missile flies far off the mark, whizzing through the air.
Making note of where Mtumbwi and Ciaran stand in hopes to flank the beast, Gratum slips forward of the traps in preparation to attack the monster from behind.
He pulls out his crossbow in the bushes and rests as a stone.
...Triceratops? Mastodon? Saber-toothed tiger?
In an aside to Baszil, Gratum asks, "The captain brought you on as anthropologist, right? What do you think would be better? If we hunt with the tribe and make friends, or hunt without and build show them our chutzpah."
Gratum is taken aback, and sounds his reasonable objection, "Surface weather has always been infuriatingly strange to me. Why couldn't it be a Mammoth as we think of it? We're on the south end of the islands, it might just get colder the farther North we go. Just like in the rest of this world, no?"
"A hunt?" Gratum says his interest piqued. "General Taggun, brother to the king of the same name, would often lead hunts as training exercises. Best part was we would all be eating venison for a week after!" He trails off for a second and looks away before returning to conversing with the living, "What will we hunt, Chief Yatzil?"
Gratum pulls out ink and paper for the first time that anyone can recall. Even when studying Isl Native on the ship he never so much as glanced at either. Then begins to take careful measure of the wall as he draws out the contours of the structure. He is very careful the whole time, and never places a line where he doesn't mean it. Soon he is including the wall from above, and also from the side attempting to almost peer inside the structure itself. Satisfied he has completed enough for a day he bundles everything back up, and walks back to set up tents.
"I would hazard a guess that the people who built this wall likely made more structures out beyond, and in the woods." Gratum says, "I might even suspect that if you can learn from these marks now we'll find them again later.
"The gods who built this wall did not seem to write for me, I'm not sure I understand the tale they were telling." He says, confounded by the obscure style before him.
Gratum runs his hand along the wall. Walks back and forth along the wall. Looking it up and down. Gazing out to one direction and then the other as far as he can follow it.
"only gods or dwarves or dwarf like men could be so inspired..."
"Ciaran's right, Zombie masters can be useful. For example, if we started to build our own camp a little farther away we might be able to convince him to help us out with a few undead hands for some light labor." Then to Baszil he says, "Maybe we can use them as a comedy troupe. Put them up on stage to curry favor with the people at the new place. Everyone like some slapstick!"
Tis better to break than to cease
"I concur." says Gratum after cleaning himself up a bit. "The captain may've traded with some of the locals before, but we don't know anything about them. We should make camp in a safe place, far from any possible cannibals. Besides with our own veritable village of mouths the locals may see it as an imposition. Better to be self sufficient."
Tired, soggy, and bleary eyed; Gratum returns to his area in the workshop. He withdraws a small trinket from a drawer. It's the little statuette he was working on before entering the storm. He takes it to the workbench, and sets it down. Pulls out two little glass jewels and affixes them to it as eyes. "Thank you Torag, and thank... With that, Gratum carries the statuette up above decks, and walks over to the edge of the deck. Tossing the little statue over. Then, recognizing he's on a floating pile of trees, he goes green in the face once more and sends a little more over the side... just another sacrifice to the god of the seas...
Gratum's eyes bulge. The rivers under the Five Kings Mountains could get deep, but they were never good for a swimming lesson. This being the first time in his life the dwarf has been in over his head [in water] he has a moment of panic. Wondering for a second if he had been pulled out of the hold, and off into the waves, before recognizing that he was still below and sorely in need of some fresh air. Then he remembers his dinner with the boat wright, Mtumbwi. Gratum had asked about all the mechanisms that made the ship work, and Mtumbwi had told him much about it from stem to stern. About the bubble that comes out above decks to make space for the air to breathe. There's a backup switch in the anchor room!
"Gado, Aeslin, someone! I know what to do to get the bubble up, I just can't move! There's a backup switch in the anchor room."
Standing beside his most recent handiwork, a large flame, and an injured sailor Gratum says, "No time to appreciate quality repairs, how about we put out this last fire then help that poor sailor out, what you think?" he says to Felonious George, still not at his side, "Have ta make sure we don't all drown first..." Gratum then lifts the top off of one of the water barrels sitting beside him and dips a bucket in, before launching it at the square of fire.
"You know you're awfully quiet..." He says to George before finally realizing the boy isn't beside him. Then just a split second more before the dawning of understanding as he looks on the shape of the injured sailor in the corner... and out of his horror he sees the boy knocked down by the lightning blast. Suddenly he's back in the battles against the orcs, retaking land from them in the Five Kings mountains, and "sweat" starts washing from his eyes as he shouts, "Medic! Medic! Down here, one in Collapse! Help Medic!" He doesn't move from his task, his training is inflexible on that, his task is to put out the fire, but he doesn't take his eyes off the young boy he convinced to board.
"Lots of smoke coming from below..." Gratum says to Felonious George, who is no where to be seen above decks, "ha no mind, once we patch the boat she'll hold more than enough water to put out the fires!" He then stumbles below decks to find the holes needing of patching.
Coughing at the smoke, and wiping back the 'sweat*' that's pouring from his eyes at the sting. Between wipes he spots a leak he's looking for in the side and sticks a wad of cloth in to stop the leak.
He then looks about the darkened surroundings below decks.
Gratum hears nothing but the roar of the wind on the sails, it reminds him of the crashing falls deep beneath the surface where he once encountered a troll so fierce it took three quarters of his squad before they could put it down, it too did not like light... However knowing cause to slow his attack...
Then he makes use of the flank while it lasts...
... he reflects much of the lightning at the shark and little else.
Now that we've discussed this thoroughly, let's put it in the gameplay thread :) DOH!
With a sudden glint of determination in his expression, Gratum runs forth and flips himself up the stairs to the main deck.
He gains his feet quickly on the slippery deck, and looks at what he might do to help the ship. "Sorry for the delay, captain," Gratum shouts over the din of thunder, "was just asking for a little help on high." Looking up he adds, "Elon, looks like you took that a little literally."
Hearing the call to stations far above, Gratum douses the small fire with the drops of ale left in his mug. Then puts away his tools, and places a small unfinished statuette into a drawer.
It wasn't until this morning that I realized Gratum will be the guy in the song "Yellow Submarine" In the town where I was born
Yep that's him.
Deep in the belly of The Audacious Gratum works to calm his nerves. By Torag's forge, we hammer
By working bits of metal into a small statue, and chanting hymns to Torag; the Dwarf is able to forego the extensive amounts of drinking (though not altogether) to prepare for the oncoming storm.
Gratum stands, places a hand over his chest in the form of a fist, and streches out the other hand as he extends that arm forward. "I was the King's engineer, my skills are with metals, stone and earth. While a boat is made of wood, it functions on the same principles, if more wobbly, that a mine does. I can assist Mtumbwi with my skills, and although I may not have the greatest of sea going stomachs, I can step true in a hurry, and hear as well as elves claim to see."
Gratum watches on from a very solid chair. He closes his eyes for a moment, relishing the feeling of solid earth beneath him. "Did you check the crows nest?" he says to George, "it's the last place I'd look, so I'd make it the first." Then with a contented sigh, he opens eyes again.
Seeing The Audacious perform the crazy stunt Gratum's thoughts turn dark, "The king's engineer is needed..." Gratum says to himself as he takes another draught of ale. "Padşahın mühəndis tələb olunur" he repeats in Isle Native.
Continuing in much more broken speech, "biz istəyirik... biz istəyirik... how'd'you say 'we're underwater, we're doomed'?" "biz sualtı, biz məhkum edirik edirik" Donal replies without looking up from his desk, much more intent on his notes as he carfully dips his quill in ink and scratches the nib across parchment. Gratum takes what he was just told and writes it down. Course if we do make it to the island. "Biz cannibals yeyilmiş olunur"
Isle Native: "We are eaten, cannibals"
"Welcome to the workshop Ciaran! Let me pour you a cup." Gratum says, tying the pouch back on his belt, before filling a new mug to the top for Ciaran to imbibe. "I remember what leaving Mendev was like. The Silver Axes, the mercenary band was called. Most of them died in the Goblinblood Wars in the first Chitterwood campaign." phtew Gratum spits on the floor and steps on it with his boot. "Goblins!" He shouts, "Never met one that I didn't prefer dead!" and with that he downs the rest of his mug, then fills it with more ale... Unawares of the activity that takes them down below sea level, and later up to the surface, Gratum seems currently unperturbed by being on a boat, and is content to be in the dark belly of the boat with his ale, and boasts to his new comrades about all the wealth they will soon be securing on the isle. On Language:
Eventually he gets around to learning the Isle Tongue with the others, though it's unclear if the brogue and cadence that he affects when speaking is due to being drunk or a dwarf. For Ciaran, On Submarines: Should he ever. Ever. Come above decks while the captain is steering the ship while in "Underwater Mode" he will ask Ciaran, "Are you sure he's safe on this ship? and promptly spew green chunks on Ciaran's boots.
Deep in the belly of The Audacious, Gratum's cheeks have already become rosy as he peruses the lab/workshop. Soon enough, Bored George, comes to join him. "Ahh! Lad! I'm glad you joined us." Gratum says as he loosens up his tung. "I bet you're still wondering why. "Well you see I used to be a bit like you, not so tall, mind, but I had some skills like yours. I've not used them for anything like that in a long time, more or less... I'm no thief! As I think you'll understand. As he has been preparing to sail he rambles on for quite a bit longer as he pulls down tools and moves them to where he wants them in the workshop, most oblivious to the dulled gaze of George, eventually he gets to a point. "I borrowed this from the captain." He says as he grabs one of the pouches off his belt and opens it up to reveal a very large, red gemstone. "I do hope the museum doesn't mind that they have the lesser of the two from his last trip to the isle... But my point is, if ye get one of these for this voyage, you'd not have ta grab poor fools' purses for at least a year."
At saying that Gratum watches George for his reaction: shock, or incredulity. A test to see if they boy just grabs shiny objects or knows their worth.
With a great sigh, the engineer with a severe case of land-legs climbs on board The Audacious While everyone is trying to ignore the shipwright's loin cloth, Gratum has no problems. Already affecting a hue of green so bold it seems painted on. He slowly staggers down the decks to the place indicated. Drops a bag inside the door beside Elon's, and staggers down another deck and into the lab. Striking up a fire in the forge, and smelling the coals as they light; he goes from green to just stark pale. "This is the best and safest ship. This is the best and safest ship..." he chants as he opens up a small cask of ale. To try and put some rosy color back in his cheeks.
"Mtumbwi. You made this?" Gratum runs his hands along the boards, feeling only the smooth wood grain, spiraling under his fingers. "I don't like boats, but even the hunting cabins of the Kings of ancient Tar Taargadth weren't said to be this well joined. This may be a drier trip than the one that brought me to the city."
The dwarf looks at himself, then the large man, the halfling, nodding approvingly at each, and then at the woman... "Ach! Lass... ye hafta leave your hat behind..." He says pulling her wide-brimed hat off her head, and pulling the hood far over her face. Then he looks over the group again. "I sure hope this works." and leads them on towards the farm house.
I'm having a very busy week at work. Hopefully I can post more in the next few days than I expect. All the work is to see to a project that is to take action on Saturday goes smoothly so after that should be better, but if you need to do something with Gratum and I don't make it happen in time, he probably does it
Gratum grabs wrigley's wrist, seconds before he wraps his knuckles on the door. Confusing the poor halfling with yet more changes to the plan. Then nods backwards to the approaching group, that miraculously match their features enrobed. He gives Ciaran a series of hand signals:
Sense Motive?:
Stop them from going any closer, and I'll cut off their escape Then Gratum slinks back into the darkness and bushes.
"Be vewy qwiet...". Gratum whispers to Aeslin mostly, with a brief eye contact and nod to Ciaran. "I will hide below a window and see if I can hear anyone still inside. Find a good spot to hide and watch the road and door. If you see anyone -Anyone! Give me two crows and I'll get out. Ok?"
Hearing the start of Ciaran and Aeslin's conversation while striding out the door, Gratum says to Baszil and Elon, "I'll catch up." then turns back around into the vault. As he comes back inside he says, "Aeslin, if you don't know, can we see what records the Abadaran's have on the cult. Their sense of duty would likely make it so they have great records on all things, I should think." "Given his relationship with his hammer, that man has a worrying infatuation with inanimate objects. And hair oil." Inwardly responding to Ciaran, Gratum thinks,Only the one object to my reckoning... and is that really so bad?
Gratum listens to The Grim boast, and consider comforts. "If there aren't any hammocks for you to lounge about between swinging Lucy, just find some rope, I can show you how to knot it correctly, and it can be used again as rope if the need arises. Gratum tells him. "of course I've yet to be on a boat without hammocks." Granted the TWO I've been on may or may not represent the majority of boats. Gratum's Plans: Gratum plans to spend next days finishing up his purchases, and haggling with the others about scrolls that they don't really need to make into soup quite yet...
He also speaks with Sumaru about the types of structures used in her homeland, what they are made of and what defenses they provide. He sketches up general plans from what she provides. His curiosity however leads him to investigate the Twilight Sages, as much as he can. He calls on Aeslin and Elon to help him understand more, if they are wiling. If not he looks for a priest who might be able to tell him more, as he knows where the Abadaran's are he'd first start there.
"Nothing like not being the target of an Alkenstar to wake you up!" Gratum says with a little envy and a tinge of fear in his glance at the gun. ... "Six days? I must prepare..." he says. Everyone gets the idea that his plan for preparing is to be as unconscious on the boat as possible. However, that's only part of his plan for the week...
These humans are so odd. Punctuating the interrogation with flirting and bravado. At least she seems to be unaware of the clone. Gratum puzzles through the events. Recalling that the captain had just made his first public appearance the day before, when he "died," and this woman wanted information from him. Would she have tried to learn from the captain if he had not died, or was this a crime of convenience? Does she want to know more about the Isle? What if the Ascended are as mystified by the Eye of Abendego as we are? What if this cultist is afraid that Norberger could end up with a similar -STOP! I know nothing of hokey religions, such musings will do no good. Let's just get the facts. To further clear his thoughts, Gratum speaks his mind to the group in general, "She was hoping this would be a windfall for her. All the knowledge of the captain's recent venture, without any of the work, and nobody else would have it. Like digging through his pocket for loose change. Kind of shallow for a priestess..."
To Lord Krinst, Gratum says, "We are going to have her judged for her crimes... and also have our second most intimidating friend, because I doubt she can understand Barley, ask her about why she took the captain's body." "Then we will hand her to the Abadarans who will interrogate her methods of entering the vault. I'm sure they will get much value out of her account, and will be able to improve their security." Having said his part, Gratum bows to Lord Krinst, and steps back to allow the interrogation to begin.
Gratum looks to the loot displayed, but finds it hard to decide. He eyes the potions of fly with a little suspicion and novelty, and the craftsmanship of the metal works as adequate. "If there're any scrolls to escape the soup, I wouldn't mind holding onto some for safe keeping." He finally says after considering what's laid out.
"Quick after him!" Gratum says, pulling out his new manacles "I knew getting a new set would come in handy... Stop! Thief!" Gratum runs up to the point that Bhodan had been becoming a pin cushion, but of course the man was faster and moved into the trees to try to hide. "You may be the only one left to stand trial! Get back here!" They come to a stand off with a single tree between them, and it comes down the a game of wits. "You're not Sicilian, are you?" Gratum asks. "No..." responds Bhodan, "What's that even mean?" "I don't know, it just popped into my head." Just then Gratum jumps to his right, for the tackle, but tumbles into the sands as Bhodan jukes and spins around to run the other way.
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