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Roger keeps himself in ship shape. There's no way they'd stay in port for too long, even if the storm they'd just weathered was a bad one. He finds it not too hard to keep himself whipped into shape. That last adventure hadn't let much chance for taking it easy, that's for sure! Still, a little time of dedicated training never hurt no one- save in the pocketbook! Them martial masters sure had no lack of work to do, and were pricey to keep.
"And don't come back you slimey lot!" Roger mocked the fleeing beasties, holding his weapon high as they fled. "Thanks Hannah, this magic stuff's a fun change from patching yourself up with stitches." He nods. "Goblins of the river those blighters be, that they dared attack a vessel as packed as this is a worry." Roger strokes his beard.
Roger snarls as a blow lands home, and does his best to return the favor in the fight.
He's gotten a little bit a hold of himself and there's some more fight to be had in Roger's blood it seems.
"Blast it not you blubbermonkeys again!" Roger roars in surprise as he lurches out of the clutches of one of their foes. Pulling steel, he readies himself to to face these foes. "Dunno what their deal is, but they don't like being stabbed, same as the rest!"
"Well the words got away from me there, I suppose. Though, if he did flip me off with his flippers too, I wouldn't have been able to tell it from him just doing whatever he did to submerge again. Not an expert of sub-nautical navigation, I am not." Roger thinks back.
"Mermaids? Aye, well, to believe company around cups, apparently t'were no end to the fair maidens of the sea. Me myself, only spied a merman-merkid? Not sure? Slight little lad surfaced and flipped me off he did. From the look of him and how he was looking below as much as me, I figure he was doin' it on a dare for some other kids that didn't dare surface."
Clearly I should take the Overwhelming Beauty trait to represent Roger's undeniable charisma. :P
"Well, we're making progress on the names. These ones at least aren't embarrassing." "I'd say I like Majara's options a little better, the shorter a name, the more impressive it is when you remember it. Of's just a wasted word. Blackroot Pirates is just a way better name than Pirates of Blackroot, for example."
"Aye, Majara's the right of it best we can guess. He did that thing where he opens himself up to the spirit stuff, but there were some bad spirits about-" Roger had his hat off to speak to Sirio. He mayn't be fondest of Sirio in the crew, but even he understood the bond between brothers, blood or no.
"Aye, messy business indeed, not nearly as cut and dried as we like. I think you're right about telling the townsfolk something, and I think unless the response is cheering hip hip hurrahs, we go ahead and follow Majara's ken and hightail it best we can, get on the outskirts at the very least." Roger offers his own take. "Of course, with you being the one to come up with the idea, it's you what's got to give the speech, aye?" He smirks.
"Well, so 500 for starters for Elias, that makes sense." Roger strokes his beard, pondering the division of treasure. "Now, I'm not certain how landlubbers do it, but we've a rule on the sea if you lose a limb on the job, you get a double share, so I reckon Elias gets a little extra. Dunno what the stewards pay ya to say what a double share is though." "Er, wait, one last thing though, do we have any business looking after those places what you circled or did we kill 'em all in the big fight?"
"No, let's not split up, lest one of run afoul of an ambulatory hat rack what's got a taste for blood." Roger answers with a firm shake of the head.
"Aye, thank ye Hannah!" Roger gives a nod and smile as he's assisted with cleanup. Roger strokes his beard for a moment. "Top five, well, one I can't give all the details, for speaking ill of the dead, but safe to say t'were the worst moonshine the seas have ever seen. Then there was that ship what it seemed like they used the bilge as the poop deck. And any river in Mwangi. Just straight up, every river in Mwangi. Rivers shouldn't be a more solid shade'a brown than a Chelaxian sewer. Which was another a the top ten contenders." That wasn't exactly five, but perhaps math wasn't a Pirate's strong suit, or three separate Mwangi rivers took three of the spots. Roger offers in response to Majara's comment on economy. "Ah, who knows, maybe the Mayor's got a some buried treasure or something! He was willing to bribe us to stop investigating wasn't he? Doesn't take a lot of coin by our standards these days to make up for a bad harvest or too."
"Pffahh! Out of the worst drinks I've been in, that's easily top 10- prolly not top 5 though." Roger stumbles to his feet.
"Blast, the bilge's biting back!" Roger shouts in alarm.
"Say... Spider lady? Where'd this thingie come from? Is it like, a devil or something what looks like a scarecrow or like is it a contraption what somebody smart build?" After attending to the previous matter, Roger nudges the scarecrow monster thing with a foot slightly curious.
"Oh alright-" Roger relents and helps put out the fire.
"Any reason we shouldn't let the ole hellshack burn?" Roger hesitates.
"Blisterin' devil he's still fighting on fire? Careful!" Roger steps back and makes another attack.
"Lay into the blackguard!" Roger urges on the group.
Then he'll step back to give Emma room to retreat if needed.
"Right, I'll open it, then you in first, I'll be right behind." Roger offers, one handing his polearm to free up a hand to open the door.
"Thanks, figure that should keep me going a bit more." Roger appreciates the heal. "Aye, Emma's got the eyes, I'll back her up." Roger decides to use his polearm, perhaps ready to be second. "Shel, Elias, and Connie keep a weather eye out?" And stay out of harms way.
"I reckon I had as much blood out of me than in before Eli's help.. Still not shipshape but I can make it to port." Roger answers
"Gotta say I got the opposite take, Hanna. Any family what reckons they did what they had to by sacrificing ya, and still thinks that was the right call and ain't apologizing? They aren't fit to talk to yet." Roger has finished his grim business, and now readies himself collecting his discarded weapons and patching himself up best he can.
"Right, so giving spider grandma a second shot, fair enough, but can I finish off the bleeding bug mayor?" Roger looks around to see if anyone disagrees.
"Well ain't this a new sight- veritable crows nest my beard is now." Roger steadies himself, not quite as used to the size changing shenanigans as Constantine is. "Someone babysit the spider!" Roger yells before attempting to engage the blightspawn.
"Arr- Where'd me polearm get to-" Roger looks about unsure of where his weapon that was best suited to a flying opponent.
"What, we're really doing this? Accepting the spider monsters surrender?" Roger is a bit confounded by the turn of events. He levels his blade and eyes on it, ready for funny business. "Emma, what's your take?" He figures if he asks the bug-phobic member of the party he'll get a more 'fun' answer'.
Roger himself was considering taking the time to recoup, but a quick glance around shows plenty of others in dire situations.. At Hannelia's urging, he steels himself for one more throw down. "Alright... Ye can do it, once more." He mutters to himself, resting best he can with his battered body against the wall before he winces and pulls himself together to charge into the fray. "RAAAA-oh scuse me Hannah, just gotta-AAAAAA!" His charge takes a quick stop to shimmy by Hannelia before resuming to attack the spider.
Roger heaves too and stumbles his way to the wall of the shed. "Arrr.. Not much of a morning riser- Thanks Eli, we still fighting? Oh barnacle'd backsides..." The sounds of battle quickly give him an answer as he winces.
"Aarrrg-" Roger's taken aback and nearly felled by the blows, but the hearty old pirate manages to keep his feet with the aid of his polearm. "I won't go down that easily ye woobly wavy wacky faceless freak!" He lets anger and adrenaline dull the pain for now as he keeps fighting.
"YAAAARGH!" The time for fancy words is over, as Roger recklessly charges to slash at the Faceless Stalker.
"Woah!" Roger barely gets out of Connie's way, before getting back to the grim business of swabbing the deck of as many cultists as possible.
"I know you lot may think you're hard up to survive the harvest, but any god what demands blood is just another devil. But more than that, you'll have a lot harder of a time surviving the next minute if you chose to square up. Run or die!" Roger only spares enough time for one last warning before heading into the fray, deciding to use his polearm.
"Well, to get right down to it, I think we head to the maze and give the bad guys a sound thrashing, but we leave on person outside that to keep Kyle safe and outta danger. Connie's probably the strongest swordarm when he gets time to cast his spells, so I'd say we leave him to guard Kyle outside the Maze's entrance."
"What I can figure, that maze thing is where they do sacrifices to whatever dark demon they worship? So, we go there, murder the demon and whoever wants to lick its boots? Parade its head around and tell 'em this festering mosquito is what all you idiots've been worshiping?"
"We don't need Emma's eyes to tell whats going on here, aye? Obviously she's ok with sacrificing other people, just not her own daughter." Roger may or may not be seriously considering whether Anya should die here.
"Sounds like a wonderful deal to me! Either someone's in trouble and we can rescue 'em, or it's a trap, and we can spring it, and murder a whole bunch of the cult all at once." Roger seems enthusiastic about the idea either way. "Only way I can reckon it's poorly for us is if it's what just nothing while they're trying to do something bad somewhere else. Think she's canny enough for that?" Roger asks the group completely uncaring about Anya hearing.
So, this is potentially my post. I wanted to run it by you guys, because if you guys want to take reconnaissance and come up with a cunning plan, I don't want to be the guy who "just plays his character" and ruins that. However, if you're just roleplaying cautious characters and OOC are totally cool with blundering into the situation, I would post this. -- Sadly for Hannelia, Roger was a different sort of man. When he heard "Connie", his body was tense, and a moment later he was in action. If asked later to explain himself, he might come up with some fancy reasons, and perhaps his brain was fast enough to piece the following ideas together, but not in so many words. "Connie" implied she was a friend. And the voice was a "She". And the voice was in trouble. For all he knew, this was a girl, being chased and about to be eaten by a spider monster, and the only thing that would save the day was action, immediately. And so Roger was charging up the stairs blade in hand, to make for the voice by immediate reckless measures.
"Aye, wish we made fellows in finer time." Roger tips his hat for his part of the introductions.
"Hell's teeth, couldn't be nice simple demon goop what balks at cold iron like before." Roger grimaces at the grim work with bodies.
"Rot comes from there- Aye! Got it! You help the guy, I'll stab!" Roger's reaction to the situation is to immediately stab the lump of earth with his cold iron polearm.
"Right, lead the way Emma, let's follow the evil!" Roger figures if they're aiming to hunt down evil specifically, then Emma's skills as a tracker surpass his own for this case.
"Oh get stuck you old squealer!" Roger ignores the screeching pig and attempts to impale it on his Cold Iron polearm, but fumbles it in the enclosed space.
"That there pig's not quite dead yet, give it some cold iron!"
"Wait, we didn't give out the magic sword yet? Blimey, Emma, whip it out and wave it around! Have some fun with it! If nobody wanted the loot, put some hands on it yourself. We're not some wilting wallflowers, we'll speak up if we want it." Roger seems quite surprised it wasn't in her arsenal already.
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