If this game's still active in any way, I'm going to drop it. My life's taken a few turns recently, and gaming's the thing that's getting cut back heavily. Sorry.
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Situation Report. We'd all like to know what's up with the GM. If it's a major life issue, I'm fine with being patient, but we'd like to know.
Since it seems no pirates are near her, and since her whip won't cut any lines, Nayli simply holds her ground, readying a strike on the next pirate to come near.
Nayli once again cracks her whip, but goes wide of her intended target.
I'll be MIA until Friday due to work. Please bot me to keep the game moving until then.
Nayli blinks at the grappling ropes. Her whip won't cut through them, and they're a long bit away anyways, so hopefully someone else will take care of it. Instead, she focuses on the enemy, readying a whip-strike for the first one to come in range.
Nayli takes up a position at (11, 18) and casts Entropic Shield on herself and Magic Weapon on her whip. Cracking it a few times, she waits for the boarders to come into range.
Nayli opens fire on the other ship as it approaches, only to shake her head in disappointment as most of her shots slam into wood instead of targets.
Nayli rolls her eyes at the gnome. "What'll that half-sized piece of wood stop, anyways?" She starts to continue before realizing that he's already moved on to the next task. Looking apprehensively over the side, she remembers the dwarf's trip overboard and realizes that she doesn't swim much better. She unfurls her whip, snapping it around the rails on the edge of the ship, and gets to work.
Ducking into the hold, Nayli pulls off the rough shirt and leggings she'd been wearing, not caring about drawing attention to herself, or to the whip marks across her own back (thinner than Salty's, but as numerous. She shrugs her leather-and-padding armor on, cinching the thick belt around her waist and deftly securing other straps across her chest and stomach. That done, she wraps her whip up tightly and slides it into its customary place on her belt. Finally, she grabs her bow and quiver and heads to the deck. Once on deck, she looks around, seeing what needs done as far as readying defenses.
Nayli also doesn't notice until it's mentioned, but when she realizes it, she turns pale. "This goes far beyond vengeance, even for a mutiny. This looks to be a terrible way to die."
I'm in the midst of an ongoing family emergency, and my posts may be short and slow in coming. If I'm holding up action, please bot me or go on without me.
Though she's drop-dead tired, Nayli scowls at the gnome. "I don't know what you want, giving me such special treatment, but I'd rather not find out." She suppresses a yawn. [b]"I'd rather work with the rest of them, unless you can prove you don't have some other reason for doing this."[/b'
Nayli does what she's told, but not without a dirty look. It's obvious that, while she wasn't expecting a free trip, she was hoping to get more sleep than this...
Nayli can't believe her ears as the captain begins screaming about taking the ships north. Reefs? I don't know a lot about this, but reefs seem like bad news for sailing. She's in the process of rolling her eyes when the orders come down to make the ship ready for sailing. Hurrying to find something to do, she starts work, all the while plotting and scheming on how best to save her hide, as well as the ship, from the reefs.
Nayli is torn. On the one hand, the captain clearly has no idea how to keep a crew's loyalty, but on the other hand, she'd never really learned to swim either, and the sea looks treacherous. She decides to take the middle ground, casting a quick cantrip to help the searchers before looking for another rope to throw.
Relieved at not having to help assemble the ballistas again, Nayli works methodically, taking her time and making sure she's doing the job right. As they work, she tries to strike up a conversation with the dwarf. "So, Mr. Gleambright. What's with him? He seems so happy all the time, he's got to be hiding something. What do you think his dirty secret is?" The salty breeze links at her face as she scrapes tar into the holes in the deck.
"I told you on the docks, Salty. My offer stands, and it's the only one you'll get. Think it over." Nayli bids the others a good-night, pulling her jacket over her and falling asleep quickly. Dreams of her father announcing her marriage and of the high priestess writhing in pain fill her head, and she ignores Salty's snoring as best she can.
Quite the inquisitive one, this Errol is. I wonder how much I can say. Sitting at the table, Nayli flips a piece of silver into the pile. She offers a half-smile at the man's question. "Tragedy, no, although I'm not as enthusiastic about this as some of the others. I avenged myself upon a high priestess of my order, and decided the fastest way to avoid her wrath was to disappear. I'm only signed on to the end of the voyage, and then it's off to something else for me." She looks at the dice inquisitively. "So, what's the game then?"
Nayli mutters a quiet prayer to Calistria as the song ends, thankful that it's over. As she settles down to figure out the balistae's fastenings, she's unable to suppress first one yawn, then another. Though she tries, it's soon clear even on a casual inspection that Nayli's no siege engineer, and a scowl soon covers her face.
Been having major computer issues. Could be shaky for the next day or three. Please feel free to bot me if combat should occur for some reason.
Tired from the work, Nayli pokes at her arm gingerly. "Yep, that'll be sore in the morning." She shoots Errol a wink, reserving a more neutral look for Valaravans. "Watch? What'll there be to watch? Waves and sea-birds? Ah well, it'll be time to educate people on the perks of worshiping Calistria. And not only those perks, but other ones too!"
On the ship's deck, Nayli scowls at the gnome's joke. However, the other crew-members seem to think that he's funny for some reason, and she keeps her tongue in her head. Knowing the ship won't leave port until it's loaded, she works hard and grumbles little, moving crates and boxes from the wagons to the ship, where she follows others down into the hold to learn where they go. She makes certain that she stays as far from Mister Gleambright as possible throughout the job.
Quickly grasping the other woman's hand, Nayli gives it a quick pump and lets it go. "Maybe, and maybe not. I'd much rather they know I won't kow-tow to their every whim. I'll do what I need to to get to where we're going, but I won't kiss their hands or lick their boots." She claims a hammock well away from Salty, rolling her eyes at his comment. "We'll work toward that, but you've got a lot to learn before you're ready to be inducted." Forgetting her questions for Errol, she grabs a knife and leather sheath, runs a strap around her left calf, and secures it just above her boot. She turns on one heel, making her way up the stairs and out onto the deck, where she glances around for the gnome. I'll need him to tell me what to do, at least until I've got the routine down, but then I'll be able to ignore the rat. Of course, Joan may have a point about being civil. I'll try... Finding Mister Gleambright, she tries on Joan's voice for size. "Mister Gleambright, I'm the new seawoman. Nayli Belequa. What's first, then?"
On hearing that she's made the cut, Nayli half-nods at Mister Stokes. She turns on her heel and heads up the gangplank and onto the ship. To her, the bored-sounding quartermaster might as well not have ever existed. Allisandre won't ever catch up to me now. The hag would be better as a Kuthonite than a Calistrian. Her stride relaxes with each step, and she returns a few friendly nods, giving as good as she gets on the greetings. She steps down into the hold and finds herself in the same room as Joan. "Yellowjackets, you can't seriously be on their side, can you? They're not going to treat you nicer just because you pretend to like them." She drops her bag on the deck, roots through it, and pulls out a pair of loose cotton breeches and equally-loose shirt. She turns away from Errol and quickly changes out of her armor. "Much more breathable. Not much opportunity for privacy in here, is there?" Looping her whip around her waist several times, she shoves her armor and her bag into one of the hanging waterproof bags. "Errol, was it? Nayli." Nayli holds out a hand and gives him a coy smile, all the while inspecting his torso and its scars and tattoos. "Pleasant to meet you, and may you find a dagger when you need it. Now, the quartermaster made it sound like all work and no play, but there's time for dice games. He can't be right, can he?"
I guess I must be the mystery person. I live in Colorado in the USA, and I recently picked up my bachelor's degree in history. I'm currently taking a year between undergraduate and grad school. Oh, 24 years old.
One small adjustment to my stat-block. I've decided to take the human favored class bonus for Warpriest instead of the extra HP.
Nayli looks at the barrel and then turns her gaze to the book-keeper. "You're bloody serious? The barrel isn't even meant for our ship, is it? And you're having every applicant do these pointless tasks?" She drops her bag, stretches and pops her back, and saunters over to the barrel.
Setting the barrel down with a noticeable thump, Nayli wipes her brow and nods at the man. "Alright, now you can get good and drunk, and I can get on board. Put your mark next to my name, and you can move on to the next one." She bends down to pick up her bag and leans against the table, shooting a wink at those behind her and dusting off her padded jacket.
Making sure her hat's on at a jaunty angle, Nayli glowers at the bored-sounding man in the uniform. She finds herself behind the toothy-looking half-orc in the line and, rolling her eyes at the officer's questions, listens to Valaravan's responses. When her time comes, she steps up and places one hand on her hip while the other toys with her hair. "My name is Nayli Belequa, I have no experience aboard ships, but I've experience taking orders, as long as they aren't damn foolish ones, and I know several knots from a previous profession. Is that all? No? Well, I don't see how age is relevant, but I'm twenty-three. Twenty-four in Pharast." She taps a foot impatiently and leans over, both hands on the desk. "Yellowjackets and hornets... Look, you know you want me on board, and the sooner we're done here, the sooner I can be free of this inanity. Do you have any other questions, or can I take my baggage aboard?"
Nayli sits down nearby, stretching out her legs and watching the newcomer's antics. Everyone's friend is no-one's friend, Allisandre once said. Poor Merina. Such a nice girl, she didn't deserve what our friendship probably got her. She glances over at Joan, rolling her eyes, but declines to say anything. Instead, she stands and wanders over to the dwarf. "Perhaps there hasn't been anyone willing to travel with him, ever, because of his personality rather than his grotesquery. I knew a girl once, back at my temple. She had the biggest..." She struggles withe the words for a moment. "...the biggest ego. No-one could stand her, and she was always alone except when she was with a worshiper. Eventually, we ran her off, and I think she ended up in the city somewhere, alone and friendless still. In a way, I pitied her, and I pity him as well. Of course, he's still quite offensive in many ways, and I'd still prefer to travel with someone else." She turns and looks at the shrub-man. "I'll not be betting today, thank you. If I don't make the crew, I'll need every one of my coins on the road out of here, as I don't intend to stay, and if I do make it, I'll want them aboard to wager there." Tapping the toe of her boot against the cobbles, she looks at the two would-be contestants and smiles. "Of course, this could be a good way for us to pass the time while we wait the captain's decision."
"Well, 'Salty', you find me on board ship when you're ready to stop reacting like a beast and let the human half of you do some plotting." Nayli turns on a heel and starts strutting off, only to whirl in alarm at the sound of crashing metal. Did I go too far? Is he going to kill me? She turns to see what looks to be a boy with a ragged shock of blonde hair scrambling to pick up his pots and pans. As she watches, he introduces himself to the half-orc, tries to stand up for himself, and just as quickly backs down. I can't...I just can't intervene in this any longer. I won't. Instead of helping or leaving, she returns to the women she was talking to earlier. "By the Lady, I hope we're not aboard with him. That leering monster's likely to butcher someone, and that's just not the right way to do business." She catches the last bit of Joan's whisper. "I'd sooner have the boy, he looks nicer, but it's not likely he'll live long enough to embark. Not unless that fool gnome comes back with his thugs and decides to put 'Salty' in his place." She shakes her head, reaching up to scratch at her hair again. Not likely. His kind just want to boss around the menials, like that Errol. Him, Allisandre, and probably the name-taker up there.
As "Salty" turns back to her, eager to hear more, Nayli finds a place to sit in the cobble. She looks at the whip in her hands, cursing quietly under her breath and shaking just a little. "Hells...Hells and yellowjackets. Can't be drawing that kind of attention to myself. She'll find me an easy mark." As she calms herself, she wraps the whip's five tails into a tight loop and secures it once again to her belt. This one...maybe I can use this one against the fools running this ship. That task done, she stands and looks "Salty" in the eye. "I'm sorry, friend, but I'm afraid today's not a good day. Perhaps some other time? In the meantime, though, I could teach you about Calistria's other message. You know, how to exact revenge in the right way. Right now you're going about satisfying your pride like every other idiot on the streets."
Suddenly thankful for the sweltering heat in her armor, Nayli drops her bag and takes a few steps away from the dwarf and half-orc. As she moves away, her demeanor shifts from a bit playful to serious, and frustrated. Undoing the release on her whip, she grabs the handle and lets its tails rest on the ground near her feet. "Now, now, boys. I'm just as much one for avenging insults against me as you, but it seems to me that killing each other on the quay gets neither of you on board that ship. More importantly, it doesn't get me aboard, since the fool at the desk will have questions about what happened, and I must be aboard before that hag catches up with me."
Yellowjackets! Of course he'd smell it, he's a cook. Nayli had just gotten into Journey's Rest this morning, and she'd used the last of her perfume to try hiding the mucky stink of the road. She looks the half-orc up and down, eyes half-covered by their eyelids, and adjusts her hat. "Aye, that I do. Honey and sweat. Acolytes of Calistria should always smell sweet, even when they shouldn't." She shudders, remembering that Allisandre was the one who'd said that, and grabs the little pouch again. After a moment she calms down again and looks him in the eye. "I don't preach for the nameless, even if they do cook a decent meal. Love the food, not the chef, as she would say. And you'd best be interested in my words too, or there won't be many recipes to exchange." She fidgets in the sun, wanting, but unable, to pull off her jacket.
"I have no experience aboard ship, but I know my knots. From...a former profession. I'm hoping to be taken on as a seawoman, since I don't have the experience for most of the other jobs." Nayli looks at Elenia, shooting her a wide smile, and only then realizes that her hand is back in her hair again. "Yes, miss. My home was much cooler than this, though the temple was always kept warm. Alas, I haven't had the time to shop for more suitable clothing, and the majority of what I brought is quite...inappropriate for use outside the temple." She offers her non-sweaty hand to the elf woman. "Nayli Belequa, defender of the faith. It's a pleasure to meet you." She looks once again at the diaphanous robe, a sigh of envy escaping her lips, and loosens the straps holding her armor to her torso, allowing a small amount of air to circulate. The half-orc's approach draws a snort. "Bad luck? It'd be far, far worse for that dandy in the sharp clothing not to take me aboard, believe me." She shakes a little bag around her neck, producing a rattling sound, and cautiously reaches for one of the fried yuccas. she sticks out her tongue to taste it, then pops it into her mouth. She's reaching for another one when the half-orc starts looking at Elenia. Immediately, her hand starts drifting to the whip handle again. "Sir, you will treat her with respect and courtesy or I'll have your hide." Or at least a little finger. She continues, moving her hand from her weapon and moving closer to the big half-orc. She stands on her toes to whisper a few words into his ear. "Besides, there are some here who are more willing than others. Give me your ear for a few hours, and it may be my gospel is pleasing to you." Withdrawing back to the other women, she nods at Elenia, the hint of a smile on her face but none in her eyes.
Nayli looks at the pale elven woman standing nearby, taking in her ebony hair and pretty (and cool-looking) robes. She adjusts her own crimson hair beneath her hat, feeling the sweat and wishing, not for the first time, that she'd chosen to wear something lighter than her leather and quilted-cotton jack. As the shipmate's big hand falls on her slim shoulder, she flinches, one hand shooting up to grasp his and the other falling to her whip hanging from her belt. Whirling, her glare quickly turns to a smile and her grip on his hand softens. I wonder what those tattoos mean, and where he got them... Before she can ask, though, Errol is called away by a bossy, pushy little gnome and she's left in the crowd again. For a moment, Nayli thinks back to Allisandre and the temple, and her fingers trace the wasp-sting blades on the tips of her whip. Her thoughts drift to the justification that's brought her this far from home. She deserved it. I did right by the Sting. I had to, after she humiliated me like that, and in front of the others. I was right to leave too. Vengeance doesn't always need to be as easy as mine was, and Allisandre should have a difficult time with hers. She's jerked from her internal monologue as the elven woman speaks. "Pirates? No, but the journey here was long and...oh..." She flushes, realizing she wasn't being spoken to at all, and turns her eyes away, staring determinedly at the rest of the crowd.
Sorry about that, it was a hold-over from when I was designing her. I replaced it with Entropic Shield.
This is the submission for Nayli Belequa, a human warpriest of Calistria. She's meant to be a support combatant rather than a melee monster. Name: Nayli Belequa Age: 23 Flaw: Problem with Authority Profession: Able-Bodied Seawoman Appearance: In many ways a nondescript human woman of Varisian heritage, Nayli is possessed of bright green eyes and a headful of straight red hair, which she wears loosely down to her shoulders. Her clothing is that of a Calistrian acolyte, her armor consisting of a studded leather corset and shoulderpads over a white, quilted-cotton jacket, dirtied to grey around the edges from her travels. The leather and cotton form several stripes running vertically up her body. Bio: Nayli originally fled to the Temple of Calistria to get away from her husband, to whom her parents had married her against her will. Once there, she discovered that, while the Sacred Sting's high priestess preached freedom and vengeance, she forced her own capricious rules upon the other priestesses. Nayli embraced Calistria's message of vengeance after a night spent drinking with some friends got her a dozen lashes in front of the others the next morning. Lying on her stomach in her bed, her back still bleeding from the high priestess's whip, she plotted her vengeance. The next morning, the high priestess awakened to Nayli's dagger slicing off one of her fingers. She quickly passed out, and when she woke up, Nayli was nowhere to be found. She'd been on the road for hours, heading to the nearest port city and the start of a new life. Reason for going to Sea: Nayli is heading to sea to escape her high priestess's wrath. Three Words: Self-assured, Fun-loving, Belligerent |