"Very well," Ambrose says. "We do not have time to make a full survey of the island for the best landing. It appears the east offers the best chance for now."
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As they approach the island, Ambrose scans for signs that might lead them to what they are searching for. Raised points of elevation were nearly a sure sign of there being a river or tributary, and shallow water would be good for fishing. "I see no signs of habitation from here, but I have heard many tales of cannibals and tribes head-hunters living on islands like these. We should make camp as soon as possible; we are in no condition to fight teeming hordes of natives."
I appreciate the support. But really, I'm fine. I don't honestly expect even to lose internet. I'm not in harm's way, and the unrest is strictly about local politics; foreigners are not being targeted in any way, and for me it's just really interesting background noise.
This is an update I'm posting to all my games. Cameroon is currently experiencing some civil unrest, and I happen to be living just minutes from the border with the conflict zone. The government has shut off internet to that region, as they'd done in the past. Currently, I have access; that may change unexpectedly. I would like to emphasize that I'm in no personal danger, but if I disappear for a little while, that's what's going on. I'm pretty mobile on weekends, so I absolutely should not be disappearing at any point for more than two weeks.
With weary eyes, Ambrose looks out at the island. He hadn't had a proper night's sleep in some time, and was not looking forward to going out without the chance to prepare his spells properly, but the chance to get away from Plugg and regroup with his fellow mutineers-to-be was worth taking. "Atsadi, Lucas, with me then. We could use a fourth as well."
If untrained checks are allowed: Ambrose wearily, but dutifully, responds to the call. Ship maintenance is a job that often requires the whole crew, and he'd seen the underside of a hull a time or two in his years aboard the Imp's Purse.
That's all the Fort saves requested, right?
Are you the wine mom who drinks during the day because she's too tired at night? It was actually the first day of school for me too! I'm teaching computers to the equivalent of 6th-10th grade. Is it your youngest's first day of kindergarten?
Smoke streams from the corners of Ambrose's eyes as he has no choice but to continue the grueling work under their excessively demoralizing conditions. There was nothing for it but to keep a stiff upper lip. This trial would not break him. As he works, he wonders about the pirate priestess's fate. He knows nothing of grindylows, but if sea goblins were anything like their counterparts on dry land, Sandara's capture was going to be unpleasant for her at best. If they dwell in the depths, she will no doubt be drowned by now. However, they fought on deck. Therefore, they must be amphibious, so it is yet a possibility that they have a lair on land, or a grotto of some sort. But what use could they have for a live captive? Sandara. Of all the sailors on the gods-forsaken ship, it had to be her. This development was more than just infuriating, it was simply unacceptable! At every turn, things only seemed to worsen for Ambrose. Just when he feels the situation is on the very precipice of improving, it is snatched away. It was enough to make one feel storm-tossed by the very winds of fate! Feeling as helpless as he did floating on the wrecked piece of hull, Ambrose makes a quiet plea for help. Some prayers are not for the uncaring likes of Gozreh or Asmodeus. Instead, he speaks his words to the winds and the waves, entreating whatever force it was that finally pushed him ashore. "Whoever or whatever you are, I know you are listening. You heard me once before, now hear me again. If there was any purpose in preserving my life before, even if just for your twisted amusement, preserve Sandara Quinn now."
Tours of old ships are awesome! There's really something about those wooden ships and their iron men. It sounds like these are some of those memories that your kids will still have decades from now, even after most of the rest of childhood is long forgotten.
"Grindylows, you said?" he asks Lucas after they repel the attackers. "Sea goblins indeed! Who did they take?" Lieutenant Jeggare takes a headcount as quickly as he can, attempting to discern the identity of the unfortunate victim. Somewhere in the back of his brain, he cannot help but hope for it to have been one of Plugg's ilk.
Ambrose looks backward at Lucas. The odds weren't good, but he was holding his own well enough. Gritting his teeth, he grabs the rope, trying to hold it as steady for Atsadi as possible.
@Felix:
It's going! I've got to re-learn the basics of living life; laundry, bathing, cooking, shopping, travel and navigation.
Laundry's a pain because it's so humid that nothing ever really dries; some of my clothes are growing mold, and it's tough to iron slightly damp clothes. I've got a gas stove for cooking, and that sucker gets hot. I'm not a bad cook by any means, but my first couple of meals got burnt pretty badly. Bathing is straight medieval; heat the water on the stove, pour it into a bucket with some cooler water, use a cup to dump it over myself. School starts next week, and I'm teaching twelve hours of computer science to the equivalent of 6th-10th grades. It'll mostly be typing and computer basics, how to use the Office package, etc. I'd rather be doing physics and chemistry, but I'm here to serve in whatever capacity I can. How are things going for you? Was the birthday party as awesome as it sounded like it was going to be? @GM Rednal
Current initiative order appears to be Ambrose
I think we completed Round 1 (assuming Atsadi was just kinda swimming around), Ambrose and Atsadi have gone for Round 2. So it should be Goblins, and then Atsadi with his climbing (already posted), and then Lucas. Does that sound right?
Ambrose bats a spear aside as another is deflected by his protective spell. He circles defensively until disengaging to retrieve rope. Tossing it out at the water, he calls out for Atsadi. "Hurry up!"
No Kingdom Hearts? Man, you're missing out! It's literally a franchise of Disney meets Final Fantasy, and it works.
As he approaches the outer fringes of the struggle, Ambrose takes the opportunity to cast a protective spell. Speaking in the devil-tongue, he enshrouds himself with hellfire that disappears instantaneously, leaving behind an encircling heat shimmer. "What manner of creatures are these?" Ambrose shouts above the fray. "We do not have their like in Korvosa!"
Ambrose curls his upper lip in a sneer at the nickname and pushes past Lucas impatiently. "Let's throw these lubbers back into the drink!"
With Atsadi handling the situation in the water, Lieutenant Jeggare advances to the struggle at the fore of the ship, sword drawn at the ready.
That looks like a lot of fun! I hope you all have a great time :) Sunbuoy is a clever idea. In other news, I finally made it to my permanent site. I'm just settling in now, but tomorrow I'm going on an epic cleaning spree. I really liked the God-caller fluff for the original Summoner. I get why they put out the Unchained Summoner, but it loses a lot of the flavor. Even worse, the compromise between normal eidolon fluff and the new outsider-coded eidolons is somehow worse than either the normal eidolons or just summoning normal outsiders.
"What the devil?!" There was no time to stand around gawking, and Ambrose immediately sets about retrieving the rope. "Atsadi, get in the water! Whatever they are, they have one of ours."
Fighting fatigue, nausea, and sleeplessness puts Ambrose in an even more sour mood than usual. In a fit of bad judgement, no doubt brought on by the aforementioned, he grumpily responds to the sounds from above-decks. Swinging out of his hammock, he throws on his coat and makes his way up the stairs as the ship tosses beneath his feet. "By all that is unholy, what is it?"
Ambrose fumes inwardly at the rotten luck, but the rigging is where each of them i needed. Still, Ambrose is in no hurry and waits until most of the others had already ascended. After steeling his nerves, he glares up at the mast and the rigging as though they were personally responsible for putting him here. As he scales the ropes, he tries to keep his full attention focused on the next step. He breathes in and out through his nostrils, and the thin trails of smoke he releases are blown away instantaneously. With every flash of lightning and peal of thunder, he flinches. This fear is irrational, Lieutenant Jeggare tells himself. You have spent countless hours in the rigging, and you have never been harmed. You will not be blown out of the ropes again. It could not kill you then, and you will not die now. You will discover who was responsible, and you will exact your vengeance in due course, but first you must climb the damned ropes! By focusing on his anger and his thirst for vengeance, Ambrose keeps the fear at bay enough to do his job without issue. When other thoughts begin to press in, he remembers his past life. Social gatherings in the salon. Shopping trips with his mother. Visiting the shipyards with his father. After-hours study at the Acadamae. Remembering what he's lost - no, what was stolen from him - gives him what he needs to push past the fear and spur him on toward his eventual satisfaction. For a time, he forgets the howling winds whipping his hair about, the pounding rain soaking him to the bone, and the flashes of lightning that turn day to night. He was even able to forget, just for a few hours, that it was a pirate ship in the Shackles he was sailing on, and not the Imp's Purse voyaging across the Inner Sea. For a while, it was enough to do what needed to be done.
Ambrose does an admirable job of stifling the urge to retch as the pirate priestess fingers her holy symbol. Despite what she stood for, she was the truest ally they had to count on at the moment, and alienating her would do them no favors. His personal feelings on pirates and piracy could be dealt with later, when he was no longer at their mercy. "It sounds that we have a plan of action then. The enemy has us surrounded. That makes this simpler." With help from the others, he draws up a list of potentials that might be easily turned to their cause. With something resembling the makings of the beginnings of a plan in place, Lieutenant Jeggare rests a tad bit easier. Still, he does not much care for the idea of waiting any longer than they need to. Fate had a way of tossing tempests at Ambrose that had a tendency to waylay his plans, and he is not keen on leaving another opening.
Ambrose's eyes flick back and forth between Atsadi and Lucas, but Atsadi makes a good point. Electing to ignore them, he focuses on Ms. Quinn's revelations. "A well-executed coup would certainly be preferable to whatever Plugg might have in store for us. There is the added benefit that it removes us out from under Harrigan's thumb once and for all. I am surprised I had not thought of it myself." For weeks now he had prayed to Asmodeus for an opportunity to put his captors in their rightful place; it seemed that his prayers might just have been answered. "If we are to do this, we will not have long to enact our plan once it has begun, perhaps a day to take proper account of our strength and disseminate the plan to our allies. I considered serving the captain a cup of bilgewater grog this evening, but thought better of it. Slipping him a special drink is not possible, but poisoning the whole batch might just work. Do we think we can all fake an evening's drink?"
The Butcher of...? Ambrose's scowl only deepens with the nickname, and thin tendrils of smoke begin to leak from the corners of his red-on-black eyes as he turns his baleful gaze on his fellow tiefling. He bares his teeth at Lcase as he carefully enunciates his words. "I am Lieutenant Ambrose Lucien Trelawney Jeggare, of the Korvosan Jeggares, and I am many things. I am hellspawn. I am Asmodean. For the moment, I may even be a pirate. But mark my words carefully, I am no damned " He punctuates the last word with a sharp exhale of smoke, stinking like brimstone, and after a moment, he releases his hand from the sword he did not realize he was gripping. At an earlier time, a younger Ambrose might not have thought twice about drawing steel over such an insult. But it was that recklessness and lack of discipline that had gotten the spoiled aristocrat pressed into service aboard ship in the first place. It could thus be said that that is what arrived him at his current predicament, forced to serve aboard his second pirate ship in under a month, serving under an absolute brute of a captain who would not be fit to shine shoes in Korvosa. Of all the abominable places in the Inner Sea that Ambrose would rather be, even Cheliax would be a step up from the Shackles. After a few moments of deep breathing and scornful glowering, the more even-tempered Lieutenant Jeggare comes to bear. "But I believe I agree with your assessment. There is little love lost between our Captain Plugg and our fellows, save for the likes of Ms. Bansion, Ms. Lonegan, and Messers Chumlett and Jape." Looking back to Sandara, he raises the obvious question. "What do you propose to do about it?"
Ever since setting foot on the Man's Promise, Ambrose had wanted nothing more than to retreat to his bunk and sleep (except possibly to take revenge on Captain Harrigan and put Plugg, Scourge, and the rest of them in their proper place). They had fumbled any opportunity they might have had during the battle to turn the tables in their favor, and the situation worsened by the day. So when Sandara Quinn motions conspiratorially, his ire is piqued almost as much as his interest. Glowering, he saunters over to join the growing party on the prow. "Would that we could all have as much fun as you," he says mirthlessly as he walks up. "To what do we owe the pleasure?"
If Diplomacy: As tired as Ambrose was from hunting and cooking turtles, there were others doing far more work, and it did not take much prodding to encourage them to share their frustrations. Sometimes, making allies was as easy as saying nothing at all.
That's hilarious. Have I done my Moana spiel on here yet? I can't remember. How Far I'll Go and We Know the Way really got to me. Felix, I just want to say that I'm so glad you're back. I was having a small moment for a bit with adjusting over here, but your discussion comments made my day, even if Ambrose would berate the Nine Hells out of you for saying piratanical.
Ambrose again sets out to hunt turtles. After the practice he had had the day before, he fares much better, though he is beginning to tire of the same dish. Plugg and Scourge were becoming intolerable, but instead of grumbling, he decides to do something about it. As he had done early on to brigade of patsies, Ambrose cooks a special batch of bilgewater punch for Plugg, casting what was quickly becoming his favorite cantrip to cover his tracks. [I]"This should put our captain in his proper place. Would you not agree, Azrael?"
No kidding. It's nice that we have rules for them at all, but I sincerely feel that different kinds of campaigns ought to have different kinds of rules for things, instead of trying to make a single ruleset for all options all the time. GURPS does an alright job with this, depending on the supplement.
After the ordeal they had all endured, Ambrose elects to turn in early, once he has prepared his spells. "Ah, there you are, Azrael," he says, discovering his familiar nested amongst his things. The small bird had managed to keep out of harm's way aboard the Wormwood, but it was good to finally lay eyes on a friendly face, even if that face was covered in feathers. He strokes the bird's red-and-black feathers for a moment before preparing to sleep. Switching to Infernal so that the bird could understand, he laments their situation. "This is a fine mess we are in."
Hunting turtles is exhausting work, but at the end of the day, Ambrose has managed to catch enough for the evening meal. "Dinner is served," he says without ceremony, ready to collapse.
That was indeed a different game. But it was an effing sweet game nonetheless. In general (and I'd like to stress that these thoughts don't necessarily pertain to this game), I'm a big fan of ABP. To echo Raven, there's nothing exciting about a +3 longsword. Now, description goes a long way to selling that, but one of my biggest gripes with d20 systems is the way they make magic items uninteresting by dint of requiring them for proper advancement. Another part of it is that I hate Ye Olde Magick Shoppe. Mass availability of whatever shiny item I want out of the book makes me very sad. And when that's the paradigm, it becomes less important that loot received is loot usable or appropriate. I'm all about using whatever happens to come our way, but the system as is doesn't really support that. Structurally, you have to specialize, or you get hosed. Specifically for Ambrose, I'd eventually like to be able to have custom enchantments placed on items. For example, I like the idea of crafting buttons for his coat with different enchantments. Or getting his gloves enchanted. Stuff like that. And lordy am I excited about meeting a Mwangi sorcerer like Tia Dalma! There's just so much cool-factor in a pseudo-Caribbean pirate setting!
"She did," Ambrose grumbles to Atsadi. After a day and a half of carousing, Ambrose simply doesn't have the energy for the task demanded of him. Hunting turtles was no easy task, and his failure is debilitating. In desperation, he flavors each dish with a simple spell, hoping that a pleasing flavor might detract enough from the absence of meat to spare him the lash.
After capturing the Man's Promise, Ambrose finds himself unexpectedly relieved. It seems that some part of him had been more worried about dying than he expected, and for a moment, life, whatever it had meant only hours before, was a happy surprise. At the party, he finds himself more amenable to making merry with his fellow conscripts and mingles among the crew. After the party, things quickly return to their normal sort of nightmarishness. Ambrose sets his jaw as Harrigan grabs the sailor and throws her overboard. Atsadi is a fool for giving that warning. But not long after, Mister Plugg somehow manages to degrade the situation further. As they gather their things, Ambrose gives the other two pointed looks. Be on your guard.
I have a stable connection now! It's going to take me a day or two to get caught up with everything, but I'll be back in the action ASAP! Rednal, that goes for Caliphas Noir too, as long as you're still game. In other news, it's been a great trip so far! Africa is a whole different world. I'll be posting a bit more in-depth on my blog, and I'll post the link to my games for people who might be interested in reading along. And if not, that's fine too!
Quick update, there is internet in Cameroon! I'll have a stable connection in a couple weeks at the longest.
Observing that the others have the escapees covered, Ambrose makes double time for the ship's wheel to secure it.
Hey everybody, I'm in the last stretch before leaving for Cameroon! I'm flying to DC tomorrow, set to leave the country next Wednesday. I'm not sure what my posting schedule will be like going forward. I intend to get some more posts up before leaving, but if you don't hear from me for over a month, that means this is the last internet access I had. If this is goodbye, I want to say thanks to everybody for the ride! And if it's not, then I'll see you on the other side!
Ambrose looks on in horror as Atsadi transforms into a manic-looking shark. The fate awaiting those sailors was sure to be unpleasant. With those enemies out of his hands, Ambrose surveys the rest of the ship to see if there is anything else that would be more productive than watching Atsadi do his dirty work. Spotting the officer's crossbow, he retrieves it for himself.
You're not alone; I already forgot about a feature that would have given me an extra round of summoned eagle. Oh well.
Sure thing. Your build was a little easier to figure out than Atsadi's, I hope you don't mind me using (and hopefully recovering) Disarming Shot. I do miss PoW. One of the main reasons I stuck with the Swashbuckler build was for the extra 1d6 to face skill checks, which was supposed to make the first part easier. Unfortunately, I never even used it.
As the cowardly sailor charges past them, Ambrose bares his teeth, but he's too slow to stop him. There was no time to go after him though, as an officer and their entourage appeared out of the fog. "We cannot keep this up in our condition," he says to Atsadi. Remembering their time in the bilges, he asks, "Have you any of that healing magic left?"
Eyes set on his enemy, the rush of battle keeps his fatigue at bay as Ambrose presses the attack.
What am I, chopped imp liver? Ready for the next round.
A fatigued and bleeding Ambrose requires a moment to gather himself before re-engaging the enemy. "Asmodeus, lend me strength!" They were dangerous words to utter, and any devil worshiper knew well that he best be prepared to pay the cost should infernal aid appear in a burst of brimstone smoke. But Ambrose did not relish the thought of dying on the Captain's behalf, especially before exacting revenge for the press-ganging. It was either him or the sailors, and though he was no pirate, he would not go down without a fight. His sword still bloody from the other man, Ambrose steps up to trap a man between Atsadi and himself, lashing out with his sword.
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