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Sorry for the spotty return. Vacation, then vacation from vacation, then a day off before heading back to work... I'm plum tired, but my plums are hanging firmly. I'm alright with casting Skull and Shackles off to sea. Bummed, but alright with it. Do we wait until Reign of Winter finishes to begin Hell's Rebels? Mott's indicated his schedule freeing up after a couple of months. How about the rest of us players?
Nim keeps watch from the deck of the Murderin' Murder, waiting for his gang to return. The winds seem to shift unexpectedly, with strange aromas reaching both his and Magilla's nostrils. They look at each other occasionally, a shared wonder for what lies ahead.
Well, well, well... this was interesting to return to :) First reaction was 'personal pride dictates that we finish what we started'. I'm completely lucky to have stumbled into this group and others that have the willpower to run through an entire AP, and the group of characters here, although slapped together, have potential to evolve together, and work out the kinks. Second think-through had me looking past the infamy/plunder mechanic, in order to streamline events into which our characters would eventually funnel... and focus. APs are slow-trawling boats that need at least a little current to continue drifting forward, without heavy anchors of disinterest. Third think-through wants the group as a whole to buzz like bees, returning to the hive with their daily droplets. If S&S isn't the Hive, then I have no problems switching homes. Sorry for the loopy analogies. If we all love our crew's characters, keep the love alive. If the honeymoon's over, then let's search for a new mistress.
Nim makes sure to use his downtime on board to socialize Mags with the skeleton crew, trying to strengthen bonds. Magilla manages to understand how to ask others for food, especially when they're eating at the moment. He proves quite persistent and pugnacious. Nim enjoys the recuperation during the lull to walk the decks, occasionally standing at the wheel, and remind himself how he ended up in this position in the first place.
va·ca·tion
verb(NORTH AMERICAN)
Had to look it up, for its strangeness on my tongue. The day has arrived, and I shall depart for a two-week road trip. Spotty phone posting may ensue, though it may be difficult to discern the difference.
Round 2, Init 16 Nim Status:
AC = 17 HP = 6/25 Weapon Equipped = Longbow Condition(s) = Animal Aspect, Tiger(+2 Dex) Magilla Status:
AC = 16 HP = 19/38 Weapon Equipped = Meatpaws and Teeth Condition(s) = Animal Aspect, Bear (+2 Con)
"The hells was that?!" The half-orc takes another shot at a fish-man, then follows Gezza up the stairs, fearing for his life.
For the look of the ape, Nim barks something incoherent, commanding him to rip apart the stabbers, before debarking. The gorilla works from one to the other if he manages to down one on the first swing.
Round 1, Init 16 Nim Status:
AC = 17 HP = 20/20 Weapon Equipped = Longbow Condition(s) = Animal Aspect, Tiger(+2 Dex) Magilla Status:
AC = 16 HP = 38/38 Weapon Equipped = Meatpaws and Teeth Condition(s) = Animal Aspect, Bear (+2 Con) Nim shifts swiftly into a more feline form , waiting just long enough for Magilla to step up and threaten both of the fish-men. Magilla swipes at the fish in front of him, several times, futilely.
Nim tries to plant an arrow into the fish-man directly in front of him.
If Gezza's potent magic proves successful on both counts, Magilla moves up on the middle fish still standing, while Nim snaps from where he is.
Nim takes in a moment to enjoy their lock on Bloodcove as a destination. Small city should be fine, should be interesting to see how we can take to shore, without appearing to be obvious pirates... ... Nim flicks a finger from his brow, pointing to others in the crew to get the ship alongside for a closer look.
The half-orc confirms to himself what Brood's already indicated. "How long you figure it's been like that?" Nim and Magilla ready to lend a hand with recovering items or peoples still aboard. They are also wary of watery waylayers. "Any sign of squidies?"
"Any reason in particular we left those Chels alive? Seems to me we left a potential problem in our wake that some spilt blood would've prevented." Nim nods. "Yeah, I'd have been fine not having to worry about marine fleets seeking retribution. If we're trying to build ourselves a name, there are better ways."
Nim looks cross at the Mane's captain. "You know that you're arguing yourself and your ship to the depths below, right? The only way your empire knows we bested you today is by your tongue and your crew's. They aren't here to support you, either." The half-orc helps move loot, then starts taking inventory of new weaponry which can find its way down to the quartermaster quarters.
A sooty-faced Nim makes his way alongside the rail of the Famished Mane, before nocking an arrow, and keeping Magilla at heel, ordering the marines to disarm, while at the same time separating the fourteen sailors, who may or may not have the energy to lash out at their recent captors. "That's no way to die. Burning to the bottom. Not sure how we'd be able to keep crew on both sides of that torture." He gives Gezza a shake of the head, clearly uncertain how to proceed. "Looks like we've got another ship to deal with, eh? We try and return to squib it, or scuttle it here and now?"
Nimrod forces Magilla to follow him across the Chelish vessel, to study the Vorsfang, and its integrity. With the sound of men about to burn below, the half-orc and ape focus on crossing over to save those locked below. If the way looks clear, both Nim and Mags cross over onto the deck of the Vorsfang, and assess the likelihood of rescuing its sailors.
Heading up to Chicago- will likely ghost until Monday evening. Everyone enjoy their Independence Day Weekend :)
Round 2, Init 11 Nim Status:
AC = 17 HP = 20/20 Weapon Equipped = Longbow Condition(s) = Aspect of the Falcon Magilla Status:
AC = 16 HP = 24/34 Weapon Equipped = Meatpaws and Teeth Condition(s) = Animal Aspect- Bull(+1 to Strength) Nim walks across the railing, nocking another arrow, and waiting just long enough for Magilla to pass Cargas to take his shot. The ape roars as he swats at another pike.
Edit:
"Those burning below! We've got the remaining two, we should get below and free those captives!"
Round 1, Init 11 Nim Status:
AC = 17 HP = 20/20 Weapon Equipped = Longbow Condition(s) = Aspect of the Falcon Magilla Status:
AC = 16 HP = 24/34 Weapon Equipped = Meatpaws and Teeth Condition(s) = Animal Aspect- Bull(+1 to Strength) Nim presses his attack on one of the pikers, straight ahead and over Magilla's head, but not until Magilla threatens him, bringing a little more distraction to the fight. "Mags, right!"
Moments later, Magilla brings his own attacks against the poking piker.
Round 1/2 Nim Status:
AC = 17 HP = 20/20 Weapon Equipped = Longbow Condition(s) = Aspect of the Falcon Magilla Status:
AC = 16 HP = 34/34 Weapon Equipped = Meatpaws and Teeth Condition(s) = Animal Aspect- Bull(+1 to Strength) Shortly before they close, Nim whispers a prayer to Gozreh, bringing a slightly-birdlike look to his chin and sideburns. With a quick look and grunt to the ape, Nim seems to alter Magilla, bolstering the creature's muscles, especially in his forearms. ... He takes an initial shot across the bow, hoping to soften up one of the Chels, before sending Magilla over.
Magilla doesn't hesitate, once it's clear that he can leverage himself upwards and over.
"Clear as crystal waters." Nim shoots Brood a green thumbs-up, looking forward to closing as quickly as they can, and catch the Chelish ship off-guard. Magilla snort-smells as he looks in the direction of fire on the water, unsure of the nature of the conflict.
Nim paces the deck, straining to make out any details that will lend to swift and accurate decisions regarding which of the two, or both, will make a fine target. He allows his sight to travel to the ape's eyes above, looking for flags, or ship details, that he can communicate to his captain.
He begins to think out loud. "Looks like the two should wear each other down a bit, so our timing couldn't be better if they've been at it for a time. Two dogs bloodying themselves over a piece of meat, and maybe we can snatch it from both before they know they've been bested."
+1 on Mott's sentiments. Scurvy sucks.
I'm thinking the challenge of this early pirating game is a group of press-ganged louts coming around to the business of pirating themselves. Stealing fish off a fishing boat and pillaging a peaceful village doesn't seem to be very noble thievery. I was thinking the new crew would continue waving the flag of retribution (engaging slavers and competing pirate ships) and rogue-robin-hoodin' (raiding fat cat pleasure barges, cat-n-mousin' with evil nation armadas, treasure hunting). Don't know what's in store, of course, but finding the less-evil side of pirating may prove challenging. This group is more than able to deal with the challenge, I'd say.
"Yeh, not interested in their meat, only their silence, which becomes less valuable, now that the village's catching wind of our presence. We should have put Cargas downwind."
Nim and Magilla fan out, targeting the dogs, hoping to either cow them or run them off. Nim's whip is at the ready, and he moves towards the nearest, laying out a sharp crack.
He draws Magilla in his general direction, pointing to the rooftops, and expecting the ape to get clear of the ground. "Alright, no unnecessary killings, got it. Fresh water, fresh food, and whatever ain't nailed down, got it."
With Gezza's encouragement, Nim retrieves Magilla, then produces a whip. By the landside, the half-orc begins cracking the whip, its sound unmistakable. With each snap, Magilla roars. On cue. The whip's sound is all that's required for the gorilla to roar, and the two circle each other, as Nim occasionally looks to land to gauge how much noise is truly merited to project the mighty beast's bellows. Satisfied that Magilla will continue a couple more roars, he spirits downstairs to retrieve his bow and gear, then returns topside, and waits for further orders.
Nim bolts upstairs to the upper deck, hearing the excitement, and readying to tackle the next point of business. "A raid, eh? What's the plan? Better not be a fishing village. We've already got enough... fish." He heads back down the stairs, readying the weapons for all the sailors readying to board the boats, and hit the shores. The voice in the back of his head growls in anticipation. Magilla growls, too, but only from unease, as he senses the restlessness of the crew.
Nim starts regretting their latest haul, as he remains largely below deck, trying to suss out his organizationals as quartermaster. The fish smell, however well preserved, is not a smell he's grown accustomed to, yet. Magilla watches with complete indifference, aware of the half-orc's minor frustrations below deck, while the ape continues to saunter the upper decks, gauging the smells of the working crew, and beginning to exert his male dominance by overseeing without contributing to the wellness of the pack.
Nim waves furiously at Magilla dangling a sailor above the deck. Eventually the ape gets tired of swinging the man by his leg, so brings him up to grab hold of the riggings. Getting back to the deck, both Nim and Magilla look to calm the Murdrin' crew. "Hey, hey, our first outing, and gettin' paid in fish isn't a poor showing for our sailing! Our act needed rehearsal, so we'll be better versed when we have bigger fish willing to fight back!" Magilla sits down, and works at something buried in his left nostril.
Nim watches from the deck and from above, as he switches his sight back and forth. He tries to see their decks, and what kind of resistance they may put up, as Brood manages to bring them closer.
"No way they're gonna believe we are earnest circus performers, the way we're pursuing 'em." The half-orc appreciates the elf's ability at the helm, nonetheless.
Cargas is being a tart. Just give the crew a Battle of the Network Stars, flesh out skills, or presumed to have done so, now that we're getting serious, and assign tasks on demonstrated merits.
"Put something up for a flag, a pair of red longjohns if nothing else, but make it bright and colorful and the more cluttered and confusing the better." Nim nods affirmatively. He bolts below, and scrambles for anything that resembles flag material, preferring color and size. Should it happen to be the captain's bedsheets, so be it. A couple of quick stitches, and both he and Magilla ascend the riggings, getting something up and waving. Hitting the deck, he remains close by the captain. "Not sure how we can embellish the number of performances we can assemble, but Magilla can put on an act, and I can throw daggers and brandish whips. Pretty sure the others can invent their own acts, should it come to that." He looks from Gezza to Brood, to Cargas. Then he shrugs his shoulders. "Pretty sure, yeah." Content with Brood and Bud sparring intentions, Nim realizes the target ship is already veering away, despite his best efforts to sport a non-denominational flag. "Oh, well." He sends Magilla up into the riggings, establishing a higher vantage point from where to help navigate better. He stands nearby the helm, and helps as best he can.
Nim nods, unsure about the destination, but trusting in his crewmates and captain to see their purpose set. He scrambles for sleep, then shuffles into the quartermaster's digs after sun-up, so he doesn't worry about the noise of metal and clatter waking crew.
With everyone still abuzz from the attack, Nim inquires with Budos. "So, we double the watch, and we guard Sandara with our lives, eh? We really could use better equipment and better markets. Where we headed?"
Nim starts to recognize the limitations on using Magilla's eyes, as the ape's low-light vision doesn't really compare to his darkvision. The color is nice, at least, but the half-orc finds himself trusting to Magilla's own perceptions and reactions to keep aware of more than one place on the ship. He thinks over the dead creatures, and their ecology.
If he has any thoughts on their dwellings, he shares it with the others, trying to mark the rough area of their passing, and where they might have been boarded.
"Ah, didn't realize he wasn't about. I was confused for sleep. I'll stay awake, yeh." He motions to Magilla, and both of them take to the riggings, on opposite sides, overseeing the upper decks for signs of renewed hostilities.
Nim and Magilla look about the ship for further incursions, as soon as they recognize the absence of foes in the immediate vicinity, joining Cargas in the effort, taking to the sides of the ship in particular. Magilla seems to be less put off in dealing with the corpses than he initially did when dealing with the chokers in the trees. "The sea keeps coughing up enemies like that, we're gonna need more crew."
Round 3, Init 11 Nim Status:
AC = 17 HP = 25/25 Weapon Equipped = Longbow Condition(s) = None Magilla Status:
AC = 16 HP = 34/34 Weapon Equipped = Meatpaws and Teeth Condition(s) = Animal Aspect, Bear Magilla climbs the stairs, and takes a swing at the spearfishman.
If the ape can't finish off the invader, he takes a shot, too.
Round 1, Init 11 Status:
AC = 17 HP = 25/25 Weapon Equipped = Longbow Condition(s) = none Nim rouses Magilla, and the two bolt through the door opened by Cargas. Both try and assess the waiting scene, and both conclude that their side of the ship requires the more attention, for the two hostiles rather than the one. Nim decides to heavy up his arrows, before letting loose.
Magilla senses the direction required, so continues to move in the direction of the skirmish.
Cargas, Gezza, GM:
"Can you believe the nerve of her? What's that elf have that I don't have double size or length?" "Initiative, from the looks of it. He musta clubbed her, and dragged her off by the hair. Looks like she's into that kind of thing." Nim chuckles, picturing Brood's grumpy sulk still fixed to his mug, even while bumping uglies.
Nim also gains his weapon, then his feet, expecting a deck full of squidies, knowing their luck. He barks at Magilla, who tends to sleep like the simian dead.
Cargas, Gezza, GM: Nim startles at the sudden appearance of fine human flesh. Looks like the coral matches the kelp. A true natural beauty, she is. He turns to the others, smirking. "You'd think she'd know better 'bout our shifts. I'm not complaining. She'd do wonders for morale, if she took to deck looking like she does." He laughs, waving his hands at Sandara, trying to indicate he's only joking. "You'd do better to hang your tricorne on the doorknob, to indicate you'd like your own private time." A sudden thought occurs to the half-orc. He snaps his vision up to the ape languidly swinging from the riggings, giving Sandara a moment of privacy from himself, while inviting Magilla to take over his own eyes in the meantime. The change of demeanor in the ape's arousal confirms that Magilla is perfectly capable of using his own eyes, while he's renting the ape's. He's happy to oblige the gorilla's newfound curiosity in women's anatomy, before returning gazes to their proper heads.
Nim and Magilla take to the ship, and become mostly comfortable with the routine of its running. With Nim tasked to maintain the quartermaster's stores, Magilla tends towards the riggings unsupervised, enjoying the sea air, and harrassing those hard at work. He goes as far as poking the riggers, then retreating, expecting to be chased. When it doesn't happen, he tries doggedly to provoke a response, until his lack of success has him wander off dejectedly for the beautiful view at least. It's enough for several complaints to be lodged with the quartermaster, requiring a heart-to-heart between ape and half-orc. When Nim manages to wrangle Magilla down, the two retreat below deck, where the two enter conversation of a kind, with hands slapping, and light shoving punctuating the emotions. After a while, the shoving stops, when both realize they are understanding something of each other's feelings, above the shortcut words their hands can convey. With Magilla returning to a slightly-less provocative attitude towards those 'working' among his ropes, Nim fails to rest assured. He keeps to working below deck, inventorying and organizing similarly to Grok's organization, with modifications for the space allotted. As he does so, he begins to push his mind's eye out and above, curious to know if he could in fact monitor the monkey, even though wood by floor separated the two. It turns into a rough day, as his sight suddenly shifts to the ape's eyes, dozens of feet in the air. A blind half-orc begins to stumble about his newly-organized store, like bull in crystal shop. The view is indeed exhilarating to the half-orc below, as the gorilla wisely chooses to hold his position, and defer to its own blindness, while Nim uses ape eyes temporarily. Over days, Magilla becomes inured to the new utility imposed upon him, and he becomes tamer as a result, not risking grander swings for fear of suddenly losing sight, and losing grip due to poor hand-eye coordination. An understanding is eventually reached, as Nim feels the ape's frustations. He learns when the beast is at rest, before pushing sight. He even goes so far as to push the quickness of snapping sight back and forth, applying the gorilla's position during nighttime card games over competitors' shoulders to leverage his 'luck', with swift sight to peek, then return to his own hand. He applies his skill sparingly, wise enough to know when to walk away, so he won't have to run... The gorilla and half-orc always share the same watch, preferably the one just before Cargas, as Magilla enjoys waking the dwarf by pinching his nostrils closed for the noises he makes.
Fourmidable Monkey Manager:
+5 HP (+1 HP to Magilla) +1 BAB +1 Fort
+1 Dex Improved Empathic Link +1 2nd Lvl Spell/Day
Skills(8)
Fourmidable Monkey: +1 BAB +1 Fort
+1 Int +1 Acrobatics +1 Trick- Attack Any Target
Access to electronics is going to be restricted until Sunday for me. Please feel free to GMPC should my attempts to sneak on prove too spotty. Will try and Level soon.
Nim loses all humor with the dwarf, turning solemnly to the elf. "Yeah. That should do just fine. You've got my vote." Nim puts his plate down, no longer hungry.
"Oh, I don't know. 'Lusty Dwarf' sounds more like a pleasure cruise. Nim looks over at Cargas. [b]"And new crew members are gonna think he's likely to pay them a visit at night when he's good and drunk. I think we can do better. What about 'The Dour Dwarf', or 'The Dandy Dwarf', or 'The Dapper Dwarf', or 'The Dirty Dwarf', or 'The Hard Wharf', wait, no that sounds too much like..." Half-orc shoves dwarf, which makes gorilla grunt-laugh.
"Nim, can you and your funky munky go get us some long poles from the forest, we're going to want to spit these two." Looking at the boar, Nim licks his lower right tusk, then nods at the dwarf, hoping it won't take too long to locate something suitable for lugging at least one of the carcasses. If his understanding of the local flora allows him to secure the wood, he does so, with Magilla's help.
Magilla doesn't seem to care much for the dead boars, but seems interested in Nim's quickened pace. The gorilla uses his sizeable weight to bring down several branches, most of them useless. Nim tries and fails to convince the ape about their need, so waits until fortune favors them all, and something appropriate falls to the ground. The half-orc welcomes his fellow half-orc saying words over the body. Seems the right thing to do.
Round 2, Init 20 Status:
AC = 17 HP = 20/20 Weapon Equipped = Longbow Condition(s) = none Nim draws another arrow, and fires over the crowd, hoping to discourage the boar from moving in their general direction.
He waves Magilla off, not seeing an easy way around or past the bacon blockade.
Nim bids Magilla hold position, and takes a shot on the front boar, allowing Gezza's magic to possibly end things before they begin.
"Stop drooling, Cargas. We haven't killed 'em yet, let alone turned them over to you to barbecue 'em."
"The grindylows would have to carry a pretty strong grudge to keep plaguing us, for the distance we've traveled." Nim nocks an arrow, and keeps moving along the path that will see them to the watchtower. "Cargas, keep up. Your weapon'll come in handy if there's foul play waiting for up there."
Nim ambles up alongside Gezza. "Shouldn't be too much trouble, and it'll keep us busy for the day, I'd think."
When the rest are ready, Nim and Magilla take point, and begin the march out to the Lookout. Magilla prefers to use the trees whenever possible, lopping off the trail every once and awhile to get a better look when one presents itself.
Nim listens to Gezza throw down a little dust, hoping to confuse a trail. He bites his tongue, and pushes Magilla off, so he can get a better read on Pegsworthy. He nods to the captain. "Saying it was the Man's Promise, sitting there, getting squibbed. How would you feel about that? You sound like you're chummy with Harrigan." The voice in the back of Nim's head growls low, sensing a threat.
Nim finishes healing Cargas, making sure the wasps are well and truly gone before doing so.
When the new threat comes to pass, the half-orc's shoulders droop a little, unhappy that he no longer has healing energy, should it come to pass. "Bud, they're not wearing Chel garb, the rags marines would wear. Lookin' more like we're dealing with more pirates, and the Chelish navy is down a ship, eh?" Nim pats Magilla, who also seems to be feeding off the group's anxiety.
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