"Deck ain't 'eavin' an' rollin' in th' surf," agrees Reck, after a moment.
The night air was shockingly cold and crisp after long weeks of dank cave air and mines full of stone dust. Reck's lungs voiced their protest, and he coughed a mouthful of their contents out against a half-built wall.
"Some things ain't changed, though - workin' like dogs fer' a pack o' bosses wantin' their faces stomped in. All that fightin' an' sweatin' on th' Wormwood, buildin' me up a gang 'ere on th' land... an' I'm back to 'aulin crap fer someone else. Least now it looks like I get t' rough folks up instead o' draggin' rock. 'Ow's this work, Noro? Put in some years an' get free? Or is it a 'fight till yeh die tryin' kind o' deal?"
briefing
Reck stays silent, but pays close attention.
I smell a trap. Not like the Tears to screw up security like that. Plus, where am I to go? Hide under Noro's bed for the headcount?
Smirking at the thought of startling Noro and trying not to get beat to death, Reck walks back to his cell as normal, closing the door behind him - but not locking it. Hard to do anyway, sans key.
Reck lifts an eyebrow at Freia's unconventional treatment for Tear discipline. Not wanting a dose of the same medicine, Reck moves to the nearest rubble pile left by the miners and starts scooping rocks and dirt into a burlap sling in preparation for dragging it to the dump site. "Clever. And bold," he says, out of the corner of his mouth.
Reck watches Noro leave, wordlessly. After she's gone, he stands and paces his cell like a caged animal for some time, thinking.
Feels good to have something to do again. Good on Noro - I'm trapped in the darkest airless hell hole of a mine as slave labor, and she's got me pulling tricks to pull one over on some Tears.
With a grin, Reck returns to his pallet and waits for the morning porridge.
Reck feels his pulse quicken as he breathes in Noro's familiar scent. His hand finds her shoulder and squeezes.
"If'n there's one thing I've got th' savvy fer, it's gettin' in wit' gangs o' hard men," replies Reck in a whisper. "Yeh want me t' join up with a gang down 'ere in th' work-camps an' see if a Tear is plottin' rebellion?"
"Wouldn't mind that," allows Reck. "Been a minute since I've seen th' sun. Ain't no snug cove down 'ere, but I'm still breathin'. That's somethin', yeh did good enough. Don't see 'ow you'd get me topside without th' Tears flayin' us both, though. Yeh've got some kind o' pull on 'em, at least. Maybe they need someone's 'ead cracked? Put one o' those bloody masks on me fer good conduct?"
Reck completely misses the subtle message but seems agreeable enough.
"Livin'" says Reck with a shrug, leaning back against the rough stone wall on his mattress. "Cuttin' an' diggin' tons o' stone every day's keepin' my back strong. 'aven't seen sun nor sky since yeh 'auled me in 'ere. Grub's ok an' regular. Tears ain't stingy about 'ealin us up when we get 'urt. I'd rather be on th' seas, but ain't too bad fer now."
Reck narrows his eyes and cocks his head slightly, uncertainty visible in his expression.
Reck stirred on his rude straw mattress. Day after day had passed in this dark hole, though using "day" as a unit of time only rubs in the total lack of sunlight. "Work" would suffice as a measure of this durance, as it came regularly and in plentiful quantities.
The prisoners housed here, beneath the deep foundation roots of Below, quickly learn the routine of their new life. Sometime before what surface dwellers know as "dawn", a bowl of porridge was deposited in each cell. No chance to grab a hand through a door port - the provisions were whisked in by magical means. Tasteless, but filling, the twice-daily bowl was just enough to sustain a man for a day's hard labor. No doubt, the food was carefully calculated for that effect. Extracurricular activity would soon beggar an inmate for calories, and the whips of the Tear workmasters showed no mercy for those who paused from exhaustion. Why waste resources on heavy security when simple starvation prevents uprising? Cruel, but efficient.
Two words that sum the Tears up, thinks Reck.
After eating, Reck and the other prisoners were collared, manacled, and trooped into the mines. Carefully delineated work quotas enforced by whips - and worse, when required, the whispered words of Abraxas - keep the work progressing. Each day, Reck mined sixteen tons of granite from the bowls of the fortress. Each day, Half-mast Pete carried those sixteen tons on his back into the darkness. To where? For what purpose?
Impossible to speculate. Meaningless information. Answers can be had later - for now, just survive
Truth be told, survival wasn't hard. At times, a chunk of meat found its way into Reck's food bowl. His cell is easily the best of this row, above the stink from the other cells and the midden, and graced with a faint breeze - a pale imitation of the salt sea air so badly missed, but just enough to keep an ember of hope kindled.
Today is different, the first break in the routine since Reck had been unceremoniously dumped into the cell following his capture. Too early - a rattling at the door. The doors were never opened before feeding. This is a special visit.
Reck feigns exhaustion as he listens to the door lock rattle softly. He cannot contain his surprise when a familiar face stares back at him out of the dark corridor.
Noro
Slowly, Reck brings his finger up to his lips, cracked and caked with stone dust. He points to his eyes, then his ears, then gestures at the cell around him.
"Let's not get 'asty 'ere," says Reck. "Shouldn't yeh 'ave th' bad cop come in an' rough me up good afore spinning a sweet'art deal?"
Reck takes a slow breath and looks away. Treason's never tasteful, even when it's against a bunch of bastard dog-spawn. Still, they were MY bastard dog-spawn. Of all the lousy rat bastard street scum gangs in all the stinking, screaming cities in all the f#+&ed up nations of the world, she locks horns with mine. And you did it good, Noro. Looked like I was finally gonna make something out of life, again, and you tore it down, again. Chained to a wall, nothing but the rags on my back and a sore head. Just like the first time we met, all those years ago.
"f!~~."
Reck locks his eyes on Noro, decision made.
"With me outta th' way, Lee Ceder probably's runnin' things. 'e's usually about th' Mermaid's Sister, by th' bad end o' th' docks. Six-two, shaved 'ead, missin' 'is left ear. Don't look like much but 'e knows some fancy fightin' from th' east, real 'ard t'land a punch on 'im. 'e runs cockfights outta th' tavern's store-room, an' I 'ad 'im swiping likely barrels 'n bags off o' th' ships what was unloading. 'e made me th' most money o' my boys. Probably layin' low right now 'isself an' telling th' boys to cause trouble out o' our territory t' spread yeh Tears out. 'e'll be working with "Big" Bill Totts from th' Watch. 'e's crooked, more crooked'n th' rest o' the Watch an' that's saying something. 'e'd pass Watch schedules t' us for fixing th' cockfights and keeping 'im in coin an' lady."
Reck pauses to crack his neck using the limited movement available to him.
"Th' 'eartseekers'll be causing yeh problems too, no doubt. They're small but a right nasty bunch, run Devilweed, Sannish, an' Baccaran through th' city an' snuff out anyone else brave enough t' compete. They 'ave th' 'abit o' knifin' other gang bosses - yeh start taking us out, they'll be recrutin' old followers. Tanner Dace runs that show. 'E's not natural - 'e came after me an' I killed 'im. Made sure too. Week later 'e's out an about like nothin' 'appened."
"Th' Crowfoots'll pretend t' 'elp yeh out, but they'll turn on yeh as soon as they can. Watch for lone Watch disappearing one by one at night. Last I 'eard, Jarrad Frase was runnin' 'em. Dunno where he stays."
"Watch out fer th' Mantis Disciples too. Think they're assassins, most of 'em are two-bit thugs with cheap iron blades, but they're scrappers an' don't know when t' run. Thorrim Lyreson's the 'ead o' that lot. 'E's got an eyepatch what's fake - 'ole cut in th' middle an a glamour making it look solid. Think you get 'im 'elpless by circling to 'is 'blind side', then 'e sticks yeh. They stay in th' warehouse on Fleet Street, next t' th' silversmith."
Reck stops talking, licking parched lips.
"Might be I could recall more later, if'n I 'ad somethin' t'drink, an' maybe a smoke."
"Yeh must 'ave some pull, if'n yeh think yeh can spring me from this. Yeah, I kin 'elp yeh. If yeh can't... I wouldn't mind seein' yeh again afore th' end."
That gets a chuckle out of Reck. "Yeh never were much fer dancin', guess they figgered you'd not be entertaining dancin' th' Rope Jig in midair."
Noro's confession makes Reck pause, though. "Yeah," he says, quietly. "We 'ad some good times together. Don't reckon they'll 'and me th' same sentence as yeh. Cleaner than that mage would've done me for, as least. No 'ard feelings, Noro."
Reck stares back at Noro, unflinching and unsympathetic.
"Fer what reason? Gold, grub, chance fer a good brawl or two. After th' crew voted t' sell th' Man's Promise an' we all went our ways I 'ad t'do something t'stay fed."
The chained half-orc spits on the ground.
"An' 'why' right back t'ye, Noro. Never figgered you fer th' law'n'order type."
I'm not terribly keen on continuing with this guy, not as interesting as I thought he'd be. I'd prefer to call it here, myself, but don't let that stop you from continuing.
Reck mulls things over as he stares at the retreating pirate. Maybe he'd been a little hasty in his judgment and harsh in his choice of words. Reck made a mental note to apologize at tea-time.
"Seems fittin', Plugg. Die runnin' like a kicked dog!"
Reck follows hot on Plugg's heels, mercy not on his mind.
claw attack, enhanced, inspired, charging:1d20 + 7 + 1 + 1 + 2 ⇒ (17) + 7 + 1 + 1 + 2 = 28 damage:1d4 + 4 + 1 + 1 ⇒ (3) + 4 + 1 + 1 = 9 nonlethal cold damage:1d6 + 4 ⇒ (6) + 4 = 10 intimidate (enforcer) :1d20 + 10 ⇒ (15) + 10 = 25 Plugg is fatigued again if he managed to shake off the earlier status somehow. The intimidate check is against 10+HD+WIS modifier. Pretty sure Plugg doesn't have Hit Dice + Wis mod = 15, so I presume he's shaken as well as fatigued
Reck's first reaction is to be mad when Noro rushes past him, but she takes the water blast in his stead and leaves the path clear.
She'll be fine
Hoping to end the fight dramatically in plain sight of the fighting crew, Reck roars and charges Plugg, slashing him with his clawed hand that leaves bloody gashes rimmed with salty frost behind.
Is that a single target effect or do I get hit with it as well? I also need to know how many times my frostbite effect has hit Plugg. I get four charges with it, and the attack rolls were 17, 26, 27, and 18. If those all hit I'm out of charges, but if any missed then I'll still be doing bonus damage.
Reck warily follows Plugg out of the mist. Sighting his prey attempting to lead him over the pit traps, Reck chuckles evilly.
"Goin' somewhere, Plugg? I 'aven't finished with yeh, not by a long shot! Come an' 'ave a go wit me, you boy-loving dog, 'lest yer afraid t' fight me in front o' yer crew!"
As he delivers his taunt, Reck steps into a fighting stance, ready for action.
move action to get free of the mist, then ready an attack if Plugg comes at me.
Reck takes the blow in stride and keeps fighting. No more magic tricks, no more talk. All that's left now is the red haze of brutal combat and revenge for the past. No quarter given or expected - only a bitter contest to be the last man standing.
I should just check this manually every day. This campaign, and this one only, isn't notifying me to new posts. I wonder if I'm logged on on some device somewhere that's messing me up?
Swift action to enhance claw from arcane pool. Cast Frostbite with spell combat, 5 foot step to get next to plugg, full attack
I presume the 26 claw attack hits Plugg, so he is fatigued.
Disappointed that the wily Scourge foiled his plan to murder Plugg, Reck roars with anger and pounces on the fallen pirate, punishing him with fierce blows and the sapping cold of the winter surf.
I hope I'm not coming across as a pain in the ass rules lawyer here, but Plugg and Scourge were 15 feet apart. Obscuring Mist would prevent Scourge from seeing what happened to Plugg. Since none of us have demonstrated the ability to sleep people, I'm not sure he'd deduce what happened, or even if anything bad happened at all. There's plenty of noise between the fighting and the ocean to obscure the sound of Plugg falling. I'm not trying to challenge your authoritah, if that's what happened that's what happened, but it seems unlikely to me.
If my plan works, I'll take plugg out quickly. Owlbear will respect you and turn to our side. You, me, and owlbear can then take down scourge. Meanwhile, Durvin can work his enthralling magic unopposed and untargeted to win the crew battle for us. This isn't about hogging glory, it's about taking down the bosses with our reduced strength party. I'm at no more advantage in the fog than you or anyone, unless someone has blind-fight. If you'd prefer to eat crab, that's fine. I posted my plan two weeks ago, you've had ample time to disagree.
Reck steps just out of Plugg's reach, still invisible. Reflecting briefly on the growth of his magical ability, Reck calls up the soothing breeze and calm, steady lap of waves on sand to lull Plugg into a magical sleep. The half-orc becomes visible as he violates the conditions of his invisibility spell.
using slumber hex on Plugg, DC 15 will save or fall asleep. link
also, I seem to have broken your map key. It just showed pictures of your avatar and a box marked "resolve". Clicking them removed the key and undo doesn't restore them. My apologies if I borked it.
my apologies, my campaigns page didn't show this as being updated. Thanks for the PM
"Do us a favor an' wait fer me t'cause some 'avok afore yeh run in. See yeh on th' beach."
Cast Invisibility, Mage Armor, and Shield. That's half my spells for the day, we gotta make this count!
Reck dissapears from view and walks out of cover towards the assembled pirates as quietly as he can, carefully threading his way through the prepared ground of pit traps.
Reaching the staked out pirates, Reck stoops and uses his claws to sever the bindings close to where they tie the pirates. He does it slowly, taking care to hold the other end of the lines he's cutting so they don't suddenly flop to the ground.
"Lie still. Make no sound. Be ready t'fight when s~%@ goes down." he hisses to each pirate as he frees them.
Reck then sneaks over to stand beside Plugg, says a few words of power, and the clear air of the beach is marred with a zone of dense sea fog.
cast Obscuring Mist. I want to be adjacent to Plugg without anybody else being in range to threaten me. I haven't done anything offensive so I'm still invisible.
"Pit traps, on th' beach there" whispers Reck, pointing out the depressions.
Reck ponders the scenario presented in front of him. "I can get across th' sand without 'em seeing me," he says. "Then make one 'ell o' a diversion an' you come rushing in. I might get t' cut th' stakes ones out, depending on 'ow savvy Plugg an' Scourge get."
planning time: I can cast my new invisibility spell and rush across the beach. I'll have four minutes. I can then drop an obscuring mist and start cutting bonds, following it up with a sleep hex/coup de grace combo on plugg or scourge. Once the sailors are going a+$+!%* looking for me you two can cross safely without being lit up by bows or something.
Bah! Stymied by a cantrip cast by a GM PC, shamefur dispray! The round I lost would have had three hits and an invisibility at the end. *shakes fist* I'll get you next time, batman!
Reck is unable to focus his gaze under the magical assault for a few precious moments. The combined attacks of your group converge on the gang boss and beat him to the ground before the half-orc can get his head clear. Reck falls to the ground, bloody and unmoving, but still breathing.
2 hp remaining, with 8 nonlethal inducing unconsciousness
Reck's worries ease as Noro twists the eel off of the unfortunate cook. With the most pressing concern out of the way, the half-orc gets to focus on a much more pleasant task: Beating the piss out of something.
As per Noro's invitation, anybody in the greater cleveland/akron ohio area is free to stop by and have a steak and a brew on me. Or, if you prefer, I smoke a mean rack of ribs.
sorry, gen con got me. I got a post out friday from my phone but a combo of low battery and strip club shenanigans after the con kept y'all waiting for this super long and drawn out post.
The half-orc grunts as Freia's blade draws blood. "Cute trick, I can do that too." Bereft of his cloaking mirror images, the gang boss lays into you with tooth and claw.
Correct. Additionally, the fatigue effect only lasts until the nonlethal damage is removed. Any magical healing heals nonlethal damage = the amount of lethal damage healed.
Yes, mirror image. Forgot to mention the fatigued effect on pelgrev, thanks for the reminder :D. I read that as 5 physical damage and 8 nonlethal cold.
rolling for number of mirror images: 1d4 + 1 ⇒ (1) + 1 = 2
Your attention is drawn from the touching scene in the middle of the room by a clamor from another tunnel mouth. A trio of tattooed half-orcs, identical to the gang boss, push aside a metal grate which bounces against the floor with a brassy ringing sound. The figures saunter at a casual pace towards the middle of the room, each movement perfectly in sync with the other two. The three speak as one:
"She crossed me, tear. That's what 'appened. I don't fathom what's so f*@$ing 'ard about th' concept - 'oever crosses me gets torn t' f&&!ing pieces. I gave yeh a chance, dogs. Yer messing with a power far beyond yer ken. Smart move is t' turn th' f++! around right now, while yeh've got working legs. Run, dogs!"
Snarling from the pain from his bite wound, Reck returns the favor. He lays into his massive foe twice with rending claws, summons crackling lightning around one claw, and slashes the beast again for good measure. The cavern suddenly smells like blood and ozone.
Reck makes ready for battle, summoning arcane power into his claws and adding a touch of magical foresight, then swimming forth to challenge the brute.
"Alright, yeh sack o' s*** - Let's dance!"
cast true strike, pool point enhance claws. Swim directly at brute
"Only one way t'find out," grunts Reck, slogging through the water of the cavern system towards the western opening.
initiative:1d20 + 2 ⇒ (19) + 2 = 21
in D8
Reck doesn't seem troubled by the scraps of bloody flotsam, but he winces sympathetically upon seeing the cleric's injuries. He makes ready to bring a first-rate beatdown to yet another bunch of water-goblin scum but pauses for a moment as Sandara is cast to the bottom of the pool.
"Durvin! Can yeh bring 'er up? We'll keep 'em off o' yeh!"
