Nimm Qa'dim's page

Nimm will move over to the rails, draw his sword and ready an attack at the first monster over.

Attack: 1d20 + 7 ⇒ (16) + 7 = 23
Damage: 1d6 + 1 ⇒ (4) + 1 = 5

Well, at least you have a good excuse. Let's try to round up as many of the old players as we can, then carry on, carry on as if nothing really mattered.

"Anyone can see?"

Hellooo? ANyone in here?

Init: 1d20+7=18

"Wha!?! Alarm's raised, Pilot. Where do ye want me?" In the meantime Nimm will draw his sword and move into a guarding position on the Pilot.

Nimm springs to the wheel and gives it a go: Prof Sailor: 1d20+7=18

Nimm does what he's asked quickly and well and earns a nod of approval from Cherry Blossom.
"Okay, so you know your way around a ship. Have you ever steered one before?"

"Aye, Pilot, in the dead of night when the winds were calm and the mates asleep. Never in the mouth of a gale or a strong storm, tho' I know the technique, if not the practice."

"Then you won't have any trouble adjusting the forward sail to better catch the wind," she said, smiling. "Go on now. That wasn't a suggestion."

"Aye, Pilot!"

Profession: Sailor: 1d20+7=20

Cherry Blossom laughed, her simian paws gripping the wheel securely. "Well, that depends, Nimm. How much sailing experience do you have?"

"I'm a Qa'dim! We sailed on the first logs that two ants lashed together at the dawn of time! We were already on the boat when the gods deluged the world! Most ships won't set sail in any civilized port without a Qa'dim onboard, 'I'd rather tie an anchor to me neck now!' they'd say! I've been sailing since I was able to grip the ropes, BEFORE I could walk!"

Nimm steps forward, snaps a salute to his new boss. "Nimm Qa'dim reporting for duty! Where shall I begin?"

"Aye, Cap'n! My name is Nimm Qa'dim and I am a ropes monkey. I am at your service."

Nimm Qa'dim wrote:

"Aye, mate. Total immersion in clean water using soap to scrub with. We stink of fish and sun, and that's no fit way to begin a good job!"

sniffs "I don't smell anything out of the ordinary, is the fish scent repulsive to you?" Levels a even stare at Nimm

"Hey! Don't blame me, mate! Blame my misspent youth. My parents were consummate bathers..."

"Aye, mate. Total immersion in clean water using soap to scrub with. We stink of fish and sun, and that's no fit way to begin a good job!"

"I must say, you lot have been a bundle of nothin' but trouble for me since I was cast in wit' you. And I say you could all use a bath or at least a powerful perfume, but I'm willin' to stay a bit longer wit' a real crew and a real ship and a real cap'n, the sort what doesn't take a mild prank as the end o' the world, eh?"

Nimm lets out a loud burp after his delicious dinner and slams down his mug.

"I vote fer stayin'!"

"Permission granted," she said with a laugh, "but if you call me ma'am again I'll knock you into the middle of next week."

"Aye, cap'n! Do ye need any able bodied sailors by chance? We find ourselves wit'out a job."

Sanura Agashti wrote:

Sanura watches the woman in silence, then stands an offers a hand in greeting.

Gracie reaches out and clasps the proferred hand in a firm handshake. "Welcome aboard."

Nimm staps to attention as he crests the ladder. "Captain! Permission to come aboard, ma'am?"

Fin sits up. "What? A ship!" He gets up and move to the front of the dingy. "Alright people, full speed ahead! Remember, let me do the talking!" He grins widely.

"And exactly what will ye be sayin'? What's our stance here? I vote we join up! A privateer's liable to need a good crew of hard cases like ourselves. And besides, at the very least they can aim us toward the right coastline!"

Nimm will use some salt harvested from the sea to salt the meat, the better to keep. Speaking of, how are we for fresh water?

Nimm aids in the boat repairs: Prof Sailor: 1d20+7=11

Nimm stabs at the ray again, cursing it loudly: 1d20+7=16, 1d6+1=4

"Accursed damn beast!" Nimm drops his crossbow into the boat and draws his short sowrd. He waits until the ray is near and stabs furiously at it.

Attack and damage: 1d20+7=9, 1d6+1=6

Nimm curses as the blow goes VERY wide!

Nimm hauls out his crossbow, cranks it up and readies an action to fire at the first evil manta ray he see...

ATTACK and DAMAGE! 1d20+6=11, 1d8=2

Init: 1d20+7=22

"Izzat all it takes to get you to move, mate? A damn monster attacking your garments? HA!"

Nimm's definitely sleeping. He's pretty exhausted and used to sleeping on boats.

Nimm will take a turn at the oars, but only gets 4 hours before he tires.

Con check:
1d20+1=5

Quentin frowns, looking around at the others. "I don't think we have too many options here, friends. To the North, we will hit some cliffs with no good place to moor. The west would be our quickest route, but those are dangerous waters and we aren't in good condition to try and fight off an foes. Our vessel would be overtaken by pirates quickly. We may want to stick with our original plan and try to get east. The storm set us back some, but we should still be able to make it. Lets get back to chance!"

He points to the east, ready to take his turn at the oars when Khuul starts to wear out.

"Unless of course, piracy is our goal. Let's face it: this lot made lousy sailors, but they'd make one helluva pirate crew! We could join up and see how fate treats us?"

Rolls (Reflex, Sailor, Fort): 1d20+6=20, 1d20+7=10, 1d20+4=9

Well, I'm still in the boat, at least and aiding on the sailor checks...

Profession Sailor: 1d20+7=18

Nimm begins to swear and curse as the waves ride higher.

Reflex to stay in the boat: 1d20+6=23

Fortitude to keep from being nauseated: 1d20+4=8

And Nimm vomits loudly over the side of the boat.

Profession: Sailor to keep the boat right: 1d20+7=17 Add mine for the Aid Another!

And the boat is not looking so seaworthy. I commend my body to the sea!

Using Might of the Effreet to pump up his Strength: 1d20+3=22

Profession Sailor: 1d20+7=21

Nimm seems to puff up as he hauls on the rope, and with help from his friends, (who are using the Aid Another action, eh?) he manages to haul the wayward dwarf into the boat.

Reflex: 1d20+6=17
Fort: 1d20+4=14 Crow, looks like I'm sickened, unless it's been more than a day since we got thrown off ship and I can use my class ability to add a +1 to the roll?

Nimm hunkers down in the boat and keeps an eye out, watching for any cre overboard. He readies his 50 ft of hemp rope to throw to any who need it.

Attack: 1d20+6=18

Gotta love continuous internet access! The cause of and solution to all of life's problems!

When he hears of the storm coming, Nimm begins cursing and swearing.

DM: How far off is the nearest land? And how much time before the storm hits?

Survival: 1d20-1=0

Yes folks, that's a ZERO. A great big NOTHING for Nimm...

1st DC 10: 1d20+1=10
2nd DC 12: 1d20+1=4

And after hour five, Nimm's arms give out and he hands off the oars to the next rower.

Let me know what I need to roll to see how long I can keep rowing.

Nimm will take over when you tire.

Profession Sailor check to figure out where we are and which way we ought to row to get to land: 1d20+7=25

"Lads, I think we ought to head that way!"

(signs)"We'll remember the Abigail, and her crew. Onto another matter. No ship should be without a name, correct? What shall we call our vessel?"(/signs)

"Levexhesjing, Enchanted Water?"

"I say we call her Freedom and be glad of her. Two years with that lot would have been the death of most of us. Ah well, we'll get our revenge yet. Let's just off and find our fortunes, then sink her at our leisure!"

Alright, definitely punching a hole in the boat as we leave. Who's with me?!

Co-conspirators

Nimm gathers his belongings, shoulders his pack and heads over the side into the boat. Once in, he begins to sing an old sea chanty about the damnable Navy and its damnable ways!

"Put the rats on a dinghy and cut them loose," the mate bellowed.

Nimm smiles ear to ear, and nudges Quentin in the ribs. "Good news, mate! Looks like we just got a ship of our own!"

If the officers look like they still might be appease, then see the following. If not, then Nimm will draw his sword and take up a defensive stance.

Nimm shouts loudly: "OY! You lot, stop the fisticuffs, eh? I surrender. I cut the big man's hammock, I tossed him on the floor, I insulted him to his face. I'll take my lumps like a man, yeah?"

To his new shipmates: "Enough of this! Now you lot might this whole bit harsh, yeah? But this here is navy life: you work hard, you sweat a lot, you wait for your promotions and you dream of beatin' the bos'un's head in, 'cuz that's his job, eh? Make you so darn angry that you give it your best even when you ain't at yer best. I cut the man's ropes to give him a rankle, not to incite a riot! I'll take my lumps. Bos'un's tossed me into the drink, so I reckon I done paid for my lip to 'im. He still owes me for the prank and I'll take my punishment for that."

To the crew: "This lot ain't sailors. They don't unnerstand the rules yet, eh? You call this a mutiny, you lose some good crew. You call this lads spiced up on a bit too much high spirits, needin' a little rough and tumble to get the sand out of their shoes, you keep a good crew and earn their respect wit' yer wisdom. Either way, I submit. I'll take my punishment. I was born a sailor and I'll die that way."

Nimm takes the offered hand or rope and hauls himself over the edge. He takes a minute to glance around at what he sees.

DM: How lethal has this gotten? Does it look like it can be salvaged, or are we at full mutiny status yet?

The mist, making it just about impossible to see, was quite annoying. She moves to the side of the ship, looking down over to Nimm, "Do you need any help?"

"Help might be appreciated. You may not know it, but these things really aren't made for climbing on the outside!"

"By Besmara's teats! Hold yer damn arms! Hold it!" Nimm shouts from over the edge of the ship. "I started this mess, don' I get a frickin' word before you lot start killin' each other?!?"

Climb: 1d20+9=21

Nimm will spend his round attempting to climb up the side of the ship:

Climb: 1d20+9=27

The bo'sun turns an interesting shade of purple before he rushes at Nimm.

Bullrush: 1d20+10=30

He connects solidly and pushes Nimm along the deck and right off the edge into the water.

Nimm only stops laughing when he hits the water.

Swim: 1d20+8=15

"Can it, dwarf! No one gets to take credit for my pranks, especially a really good one!" Nimm steps forward, cracks his knuckles and chuckles at the fat bo'sun.

"I cut the fat man's hammock. I tossed his blubbery butt onto the ground and if he were half the man my crewmates are, he'd shut his fat mouth and deal with it like a man, instead of... Well, I don' reckon they've invented a word in common for his kind. Whadya call those fat cows that swim into keels and get cut to ribbons for being too stupid to get outta the way?"

Nimm stares straight into the bo'sun's eyes as he says all this, staring him down.

Intimidate: (and using Corsair's Luck for an added +1) 1d20+7=14

Nimm casually rolls out of his hammock, grabs his sword and heads up on deck, looking around at his crewmates and wondering whatever the problem could be?

Perception: 1d20+5=13

Nimm shakes at his head at the commotion above and stands out of the much, stretching. He carefully cleans off his feet, pulls on his boots and heads

DM:

"Yeah, yeah, icing the smelly s%@+e works just fine. Just keep that ray away from me, yeah?" Nimm pulls his short sword and uses the hilt to break the ice into manageable sizes and hand them up to the next person in the bucket brigade.

"'S a'right Nimm, you got nuthin to worry about."

"Speak for yerself! Me and the boys've been through a lot together and I don't fancy losin' them now because some'un gets slappy with his icy rays!"