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Post Session 21 Bookkeeping:

Infamy: 37
Disrepute: 25
Plunder: 18 (all at Stormhaven)

Stormhaven Population: 858 (small town)

Crew:
Aboard the Isendrek:
Pemdas
barefoot samms toppin
fluhtred
claw
songer
baaka
ambrose kroop
breaker bones
randy dandy
guitard
giffer tibbs
badger medlar
crimson cog cogward
Stabsy Thistlewink
Red-itch rick
Nome de guere
Dad murderin-Jim
Baeg McBaeg
Captain Inspector Riggle Safety McGee
Karen Long
Iwaowy
Eileen Dexy
Yoshimi
Valen
Kurdin
Beautiful Brian
Tina Scrimshaw
Sohcahtoa
Dad Murderin' Tim
Bigger Johnson
Krab Rangoon
Washington Washington
The Rim Reaper
Itchy Toe Greg
Crashmore
+65 from Battle of Island of Empty Eyes

Aboard Spellwake
Conchobar
Rosie
Master Destiny Force
+24 from Thresher after Battle of Empty Eyes
Quent 1-8
Port Peril 1-3
+52 from Battle of Empty Eyes

Aboard Jester's Grin
Eli Lavalette
Jesters' Grin 1-20
Quent 1-30
Island of Empty Eyes 49

Wormwood:
Sandara Quinn
99 Battle of Empty Eyes

At Tidewater Rock:
Owlbear Hartshorn
Gukka
Original Guard 1
Orginal Guard 2
Original Guard 3
Original Guard 4
Ollo 1
Ollo 2
Quent 1
Quent 2
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Royster McCleigh
Lady Agasta Smythe

Clocks
Crowley Crab refresh Lover's Moon (Erastus)
Buttcavage Research (pearl fragments): Lover's Moon
First day of 4718: Get a wish from Vailea

The Officers...
Taur'Thalian Sigtrygrrson: L9 Half-elf skald (Dragon skald)
Sushi: L9 Tengu druid (shark-shaman) of Hei Feng
Batrachus: L1 Boggard brawler (wild child)/L9 Hunter
Elara Variel: L9 Human witch (fey-touched hexer)
The Great Adolfo: L9 Human swashbuckler (Inspired blade)
Lawrence "Hard" Knox: L8 Half-orc ranger (Divine tracker)
Phoebe Flynn: L8 Human cleric (Undead lord)

Today's Date: Evening Sarenrith 27, 4717

Session 21, where-in the players took out Harrigan's fleet and stormed his fortress. We ended mid combat at Harrigan's fort.

Sarenith 16, 4716 AR — A Calm Sea, For the Moment

The sea was calm.

For the moment.

But there was a deadline hanging over all of them like a storm on the horizon. Barnabas Harrigan was coming for Stormhaven, and every preparation of the last month had been made beneath that shadow.

The crew had been building a fleet. They had sought out new squadrons to strengthen their forces before Harrigan arrived. They had recruited six allies, including Joren Redtooth and Merrill Pegsworthy, and secured promises of support from Alise Grogblud and Arronax Endymion. Still, their most ambitious recent operation had failed. The convoy of Imbecki dwarves had escaped. For the first time, the crew had failed to capture its intended prize.

But there had been something important about that failure.

Knox had not been there.

The crew had tried to command another vessel, the Jester’s Grin, and learned painfully that commanding one ship was very different from commanding another.

There was no time to dwell on it.

Because Harrigan was coming.

They expected him to attack Stormhaven during the new-moon high tide on Sarenith 23.

Seven days.

And they were not in Stormhaven.

That evening, in the aftermath of the failed convoy attack, the crew — absent Knox — dined with Grimothy. The pirate was unusually serious. He thought he recognized Phoebe as kin to Kimberly of the Shackles, an old companion whom he had once sought to restore to life with a miracle. He spoke to Elara of losing Kimberly during the creation of the Eye of Abendigo, and of finding, too late, that by the time he tried to raise her, her soul had forgotten him and chosen not to return.

The party suspected Grimothy was a vampire. They suspected, too, that he was courting Phoebe as some temporary replacement for Kimberly.

Phoebe slept with him anyway.
Sarenith 18 — Oyster Cay

Two days later, the Jester’s Grin put into Oyster Cay.

The port was under the control of Wide Olga, though her former lover Havalas Grudd contested her claim. The crew had little time for local politics, quarantine rules, or delays. Their immediate plan was straightforward: get word to the Isendrak, have her pick them up at Oyster Cay, repair what could be repaired, strip what was useful from the Jester’s Grin, and race home to Stormhaven before Harrigan arrived.

The schedule was merciless. From Oyster Cay to Stormhaven was three and a quarter days by the Charts of the Fair Winds. If all went well, they would arrive with little more than a day to prepare before Harrigan’s expected attack.

Everything depended on Wide Olga looking the other way.

The crew negotiated. Two plunder changed hands, and Wide Olga agreed to circumvent the quarantine in exchange for support of her claim on Oyster Cay.

While there, Elara investigated Vance.

What she found was not a simple trail of cowardice or desertion. A prostitute remembered him waking screaming from nightmares about “the woman with purple eyes.”

“You’re not taking him back to her, are you?”

A dockworker remembered Vance as kind, a man who bought meals for hungry children. He had told anyone asking after him that he had sailed west. The bartender recognized him immediately: a quiet fellow, always watching the harbor instead of the customers. Every coin he earned had gone into a little lockbox beneath the counter. He had sold nearly everything he owned to buy passage on the same damaged tub the party had brought into Oyster Cay.

Before leaving, Vance had bought drinks for everyone.

One elderly patron nearly talked him out of going.

“He looked terrified,” the man said. “Said staying was worse than any sea.”

Then he added, “If you’re chasing him because you care about him… hurry. If you’re chasing him for her… let him keep running.”
Sarenith 19 — The Race Home

On Sarenith 19, the Isendrak met the Jester’s Grin at Oyster Cay.

The crew transferred what needed transferring, made what repairs they could, and departed for Stormhaven.

Sarenith 20–21 — Questions for the Gods

On Sarenith 20 and again on Sarenith 21, the crew turned to commune and divination.

The answers sharpened the threat. Harrigan had fewer than five squadrons, but they were big. He had no sea monsters, devils, or other non-ship forces prepared to attack them. He had no spy targeting the crew of the Isendrak or Stormhaven. But he knew their fleet’s strength. He had no pirate lords in his fleet, but he did have free captains. And he planned to surprise them during the fleet action.

Most ominously, when they asked for the greatest weakness in Harrigan’s fleet, the answer came back:

Two heads.

By Sarenith 21, they knew Harrigan intended to attack Stormhaven on the 22nd.

They raced to arrive in time.
Sarenith 22 — The Battle off Stormhaven

The first cup of coffee came to Captain Knox while the horizon was still only a grey uncertainty beyond the bowsprit.

It was brought up by Croup, the ship’s cook, in a tin cup gone black at the rim from long service and careless washing. The coffee was thick, bitter, and boiled past the point of bitter, which was precisely how Knox wanted it. He took it without looking down, his eyes fixed upon the line of cloud and sea where Harrigan’s fleet must appear.

“Keep it coming,” he said.

“Aye, Captain.”

Croup hesitated just long enough to glance out across the water. Around them the Isendrak was already alive with controlled motion. Men moved at the braces. Shot was carried up from below. Powder monkeys ran low and quick between the guns. Her hull, newly clad in shining mithril, caught the pale morning light and threw it back in long silver bands. She should have looked burdened by so much armor. Instead, under Elara’s hand, she seemed eager. The water ran along her copper and mithril skin with a high, clean murmur, and the ship sang as she gathered way.

Elara stood at the helm with the set, unreadable attention of a woman listening not only to orders but to the very temper of the wind. Phoebe had climbed to where she could see, her farglass already lifted. Adolfo was below among the guns, where Knox wanted him. Batrachus waited with the gun crews, patient as a loaded piece. Adolfo and Taur'Thalion kept the crew at ease and focused with their easy banter and encouraging ways.

“Strong as you make it,” Knox added.

Croup swallowed. “Aye, Captain.”

Knox drank. It scalded his tongue and pleased him.

The deck beneath his boots moved with a living certainty, rising and falling under him as if the ship breathed through timber, copper, mithril, sailcloth, rope, and blood. The wind drew through the rigging in long notes, and he knew each one: the low complaint of a loaded brace, the sharper hum of a taut stay, the sudden clatter of a block taking strain. The sea spoke against the hull and the hull answered. Since the mithril had gone on, the answer had changed. She did not groan under armor. She sang under it.

Knox closed his eyes for the space of one breath.

There.

There was no brothel room in Quent, no captain’s cabin, no lord’s hall, no bed, no tavern, no victory table, no crown of the Shackles or promise of one, that could give him what that sound gave him.

The Isendrak under way.

His crew at their stations.

The wind clean in his teeth.

Here, he was not Laurence. Not the bastard. Not the boy with blood in his mouth. Not the thing his mother had survived, nor the thing his father had distained.

Here he was a sailor.

And the ship knew him.

A hand hauled at the main brace before the order had fully left the mate’s mouth. A powder monkey ducked past two gunners with a grin too wide for the morning before battle. Batrachus checked a gun crew’s work and gave one nod, which, from him, was a benediction. Phoebe, small and armored and terrible, leaned into her glass as if she could bully the horizon into confession. Taur and Adolfo’s voices rose from below, cheerful and profane, arguing about hats. Elara shifted her weight at the helm, and the Isendrak felt it.

Knox loved them.

He loved the ship most of all.

He opened his eyes.

Harrigan was still out there.

Knox smiled faintly into his coffee.

Let him come, then.

Only hours before, in Stormhaven, he had not known whether the fleet would obey him.

...

Madshanks had laughed first, of course. Brok “Madshanks” Cordain had laughed because he laughed at danger, at authority, at weather, at death, and most especially at any man who presumed to give him orders. Grimothy had watched with his pale courtesy, his hands folded as if in prayer or appetite. Merrill Pegsworthy had said very little, which Knox had come to understand meant that he was thinking twice as much as any man in the room. The others had gathered beneath the lamps while the harbor outside rang with preparation: carpenters still at work, powder being rolled to the batteries, signal flags laid out by lamplight, men eating what might be their last hot meal.

Knox had let them talk until they were finished mistaking noise for command.

Then he had placed both hands upon the table.

The map between them showed the approaches to Stormhaven, the reefs, the shoals, the battery, the lanes of deep water by which Harrigan would have to come if he meant to bring his strength to bear. Little carved ships stood upon the parchment: Madshanks’ heavy squadron; Pegsworthy’s disciplined line; Grimothy’s strange and silent vessels; Grogblud’s Lost Squadron; the Tub and her plucky escorts, the Widowmakers, and the Isendrak and her chosen consorts.

Knox moved one ship.

Then another.

And another.

No flourish. No boast. No speech to stir the blood.

Only inevitability.

“Harrigan knows our strength,” he said. His voice was low, rough at the edges, the accent of gutters and dockside rooms never quite scrubbed away. “So we ain’t winning by hidin’ it.”

“We win by makin’ him commit to the strength he thinks he sees.”

Grimothy’s pale eyes rested on the map. “And then?”

“Then we show him how to f@*~ing sail.”

Pegsworthy leaned forward. “You mean to refuse the center?”

“I mean to offer him the center,” Knox said. “I mean to make him take it. I mean for his allies to think they’re closin’ on scattered prey. Then I mean for them to find every ship in this fleet exactly where I put it.”

Madshanks snorted. “Sounds neat. Battles ain’t neat.”

“No,” said Knox. “Battles are wind, panic, blood, and men disobeyin’ orders because they think themselves clever.”

His gaze moved from one captain to the next.

“So hear me now. When my flags go up, you obey ’em. Not when you agree. Not when it pleases you. Not when you’ve finished improvin’ the plan in your own head. You obey when they rise.”

No one spoke.

“The first captain who breaks line to hunt glory leaves his friends exposed. The first captain who turns late gives Harrigan the weather gauge. The first captain who mistakes courage for command answers to me if he survives.”

Madshanks’ jaw worked once. Then, to everyone’s surprise, he did not laugh.

“I’ll say this for you, Knox,” Madshanks said. “You divide fair. You keep your word. There’s captains in the Shackles I’d sooner trust with my throat than my share of plunder, but you ain’t one of ’em.”

Knox did not soften.

“Good.”

“That don’t mean I like bein’ ordered about.”

“I don’t give a s$*@ what you like.”

A few of the captains shifted. Someone almost laughed and wisely thought better of it.

Madshanks studied him for a long moment, then gave a short nod. “But if you say the plunder’s shared square after Harrigan’s beaten, I believe you.”

“It will be.”

“And if your flags go up?”

“You follow ’em.”

Madshanks’ grin returned, smaller now, and more dangerous. “Aye, then. I’ll follow your flags.”

Knox looked around the table.

“That goes for every bastard here. You may hate my orders. You may hate me. But you will f+#+ing hold formation.”

He touched the map where Harrigan’s line would come in.

“We don’t outfight him,” Knox said. “We outsail him.”

...

Now, with Stormhaven astern and the tide running beneath them, the black sails came.

They appeared first as dark strokes against the southern haze. Then as canvas. Then as hulls. Harrigan’s fleet bore down under a hard press of sail, coming with the confidence of men who believed fear had already done half their work. At their center came the ship Knox had expected. The Wyrmwood. Harrigan’s old terror. Harrigan’s promise that nothing from the past was ever truly escaped.

And off her quarter, under hard black canvas, came the ship that made the deck around Knox fall briefly silent.

Houkna Bewul.

Knox’s father had come.

For a moment, the sea seemed to narrow around that fact.

Phoebe lowered her farglass just enough to look at him. Elara did not turn, but Knox saw the slight change in the set of her shoulders. Even the crew seemed to know without being told that blood had entered the order of battle.

Knox drank his coffee.

“Signal to Madshanks,” he said. “Hold broad on the larboard mark until my second flag.”

The signalmen moved.

“Signal Pegsworthy. Refuse his van. Make it ugly. I want Harrigan thinking he’s won the angle.”

Flags climbed. The wind took them. Across the line, answering pennants broke out.

Harrigan came on.

It was well done, Knox thought. There was no point pretending otherwise. Harrigan had placed his allies to screen his approach, three squadrons thrown out like hooked fingers to catch the allied line before it could close about him. His own squadron hung back just far enough to strike wherever the allied fleet weakened. A lesser admiral would have tried to meet him evenly. A brave fool would have charged the Wyrmwood. A pirate would have chased the richest prize.

Knox did none of these things.

He let Harrigan see a center that seemed late to dress, a flank that appeared uncertain, and a flagship that looked as if it meant to drive straight toward Wyrmwood on the far flank.

Harrigan took the bait.

His allied captains spread, each seeking the gap promised to him. The black sails lengthened across the water. Their formation opened by degrees so small that only a sailor watching the whole sea would have noticed them.

Knox noticed.

“Elara,” he said.

“I see it.”

“Now.”

For a heartbeat, as the order passed and the braces came alive, joy broke through him so cleanly that it was almost pain.

The Isendrak answered.The fleet answered.

She did not merely turn. She gathered herself. The bow fell off, the sails filled, and the whole ship leaned into the maneuver with the eagerness of a blade drawn from a sheath. Spray ran white along the mithril, and the song at her sides rose bright enough that Knox heard it through the thunder of men's feet and the bosun's drums.

This, he thought.

Not the killing. Not the flags. Not even victory.

This.

A good ship, a true wind, a crew that heard him, and the narrow instant in which judgment became motion.

The Isendrak came about with a grace no ship under such armor had any right to possess. Her mithril-clad hull flashed as she heeled, and her long, dragon-skulled, bowsprit swung through the wind like a finger pointing judgment. At the same instant, Madshanks’ squadron, which had seemed slow and stubborn at the center, filled its sails and drove forward. Pegsworthy ceased his retreat and hardened his line. Grimothy’s ships, dark and patient, slid out from their withheld angle. Grogblud’s squadron, which had been all but masked behind the greater hulls, emerged into clear water with the Devilish Duchess already running out her guns.

Harrigan’s three allies suddenly found themselves not advancing upon a broken fleet, but standing at the bottom of a closing net.

Knox’s flags snapped again.

Line of battle.

Not a suggestion. Not a plea. An order hammered across the wind.

Every allied squadron answered.

The formation took shape with terrible speed: Madshanks pinning the foremost enemy squadron in place; Pegsworthy cutting off its relief; Grimothy denying escape toward the shoals; Grogblud angling for the lead ships; the Isendrak driving across the face of the enemy line where her guns could speak into confusion. It was not a charge. It was a door closing.

Harrigan saw it too late.

The Wyrmwood tried to bear up, but the very allies meant to screen her now fouled her water. To engage, Harrigan would have to cut through his own collapsing line or expose his flank to the Stormhaven battery. For all his ferocity, for all his black canvas and bloody reputation, he had been made a spectator to the destruction of his own van.

The allied fleet fired.

Madshanks’ broadside struck first, heavy and disciplined, smashing into the enemy support ships at close range. Widowmaker’s guns followed, then Pegsworthy’s, then the dreadful precision of the Devilish Duchess. Smoke rolled low across the water. Spars leapt. Men vanished in splinters. A foremast tilted, hung absurdly for one breath, and came down like a felled tree.

Knox gave no cheer.

“Reload,” he said.

The second volley came before Harrigan’s allies had found their answer. One squadron broke almost at once. Another tried to turn out and only presented its stern. The third held longer, brave or trapped, until the Isendrak crossed its bow and opened fire at murderously short range.

The sea became shouting, powder, torn canvas, and wreckage.

Through it all Harrigan remained just beyond reach.

Isolated.

Helpless.

The battle had just begun. But it was already over.

Knox felt the old desire then: to drive straight through the smoke, to put the Isendrak alongside the Wyrmwood, to end it by boarding axe and bowshot. But discipline was not the absence of fury. Discipline was fury made useful.

“Signal the line to maintain pressure,” he said. “No pursuit past the outer shoal. They are to finish what is in front of them.”

“Aye, Captain.”

The Isendrak slid on.

Ahead, Houkna Bewul’s ship had tried to slip toward the Isle of Empty Eyes, using the broken enemy formation and the smoke of the fleet action as cover. It was neatly done. Knox had expected no less from his father.

There had been a message, before all this. A promise, really. Houkna had said he would kill him in combat.

Knox had believed him.

That was the thing no song would ever get right. No drunken retelling in some dockside tavern would understand it. Knox was not certain he could beat his father blade to blade. He was strong, fast, hard to kill. But Houkna Bewul was a Free Captain of the Shackles, a butcher of long experience, and the sort of man who had spent a lifetime surviving the exact violence he promised.

Knox might beat him.

He might not.

And Knox had not lived this long by letting pride choose the ground.

Here, upon the water, amid signal flags and gun smoke, with Elara’s hands on the wheel and Adolfo at the guns, with Phoebe watching the enemy’s breath through glass and spellcraft, with Batrachus waiting for the moment iron should speak — here Knox had never lost.

So he would not give his father the fight he wanted.

He would give him the fight he could not win.

The Isendrak slid between Houkna and the Isle of Empty Eyes with the calm violence of a predator about to strike. Her mithril hull shone through the smoke, and the sea sang along her sides.

For the first time that morning, Knox smiled.

“Adolfo,” he called down to the gun deck, “double-shot the cannon.”

Below, Adolfo’s answer came back muffled but eager.

Knox raised his voice just enough for the forward crews.

“Batrachus.”

The big gunner turned.

“Fire as they bear.”

The Isendrak’s guns ran out.

Before the crash and smoke, Knox found his father in the distance, bellowing at his crew.

"For you, mother." he whispered. The guns spoke.

"Your last gift from your son."
Sarenith 22 — The Taking of the Wyrmwood

Fleet actions have their order: flags, angles, ranges, weather, signals, the beautiful lie that men kill each other according to geometry. Boarding stripped all that away.

The Isendrak closed through smoke and floating wreckage, her hull scarred but unbowed, and the grapnels flew. Men screamed across the narrowing water. Hooks bit rail and timber. The ships ground together with a sound like teeth.

Then Knox’s people went over.

The deck of the Wyrmwood swarmed with defenders: three spellcasters, two hard-bitten officers, and Patch Patchsalt, a gnomish fighter with murder in his eyes. For one heartbeat the old ship seemed to breathe Harrigan’s malice back at them.

Knox answered first. Four arrows struck one spellcaster before the man could finish whatever curse he had begun, and he fell hard among the coils of rope. Phoebe blinded one of the fighters with a gesture and a prayer sharp enough to draw blood from the air. Elara hexed a wizard. Taur’Thalion’s voice rose over the clash, and haste ran through the boarding party like fire in dry cordage. Batrachus and Eubels drove into the officer-fighters, crushing the line before it could settle.

Then Adelina Doloruso burst from below.

Lightning chained across the deck. A quickened fireball followed, turning smoke to flame and men to silhouettes. Ice hammered down in a storm that dropped Sushi and nearly killed Phoebe where she stood.

For a moment the Wyrmwood became chaos.

Then the party did what it had learned to do.

Eubels trampled through wizard and priest alike. Doloruso answered with scorching rays and a desperate dimension door, dragging herself into the crow’s nest above the fight. Knox looked up through smoke, rigging, and sleet, found the angle, and put two arrows through her defenses. Elara finished it with a lightning bolt that lit the mast white for an instant.

Below, Adolfo, Batrachus, Taur, and Eubels broke the remaining fighters. Phoebe, bloodied and half-dead herself, poured healing into Sushi and dragged him back from the edge.

When the last defender fell, the Wyrmwood was theirs.

Ninety-six crewmen surrendered.

The ship that had begun so many nightmares now flew Knox’s colors.
Sarenith 22–23 — The Cost of Victory

Pegsworthy came aboard near dusk, his coat salt-stiff, his face grey with powder smoke and exhaustion. He removed his hat when he saw the covered dead laid out near the mainmast, and for a time said nothing.

At last he looked back across the harbor, where the wreckage of Harrigan’s ambition moved with the tide.

“Twenty-six enemy ships sunk,” he said quietly. “Three of ours.”

Knox gave a nod.

Pegsworthy’s eyes remained on the water. “I have seen victories, but none so decisive.”

“It cost enough,” Knox said.

“Aye,” Pegsworthy replied. “It always does.”

The Thresher had gone down in the fleet action. Sandara Quinn had gone down with her.

The news reached Knox after the boarding, when the smoke had begun to thin and the sea was covered with the work victory leaves behind: broken spars, drifting men, floating barrels, torn sailcloth, and the cries of sailors who no longer cared which flag had flown above them an hour before.

Knox ordered the recovery without hesitation.

Allied sailors first. Then enemy sailors. Then the dead.

Boats moved in disciplined lines through the wreckage. Ropes were thrown. Men were hauled over gunwales. Some cursed their rescuers. Some wept. Some clung to planks until their fingers had to be pried loose one by one. By evening, a hundred rescued sailors had been brought ashore to Stormhaven, and enough surviving crewmen had been distributed among the remaining ships to make the fleet whole again.

Sandara’s body was found before sunset.

For a time, no one spoke much.

Knox stood beside her under a grey cloth stained dark by seawater. The breeze moved the edge of it now and again, as if the sea were still reluctant to give her up.

“She comes back,” he said.

No one argued.

“Shared funds,” Knox continued. His voice was flat. “She stood wif dis crew before most of dem knew what standing together meant. She healed me when I fell.”

The other officers nodded immediate agreement. There was no debate.

The fleet had won. Harrigan’s allies had been smashed. The Wyrmwood had been taken. Stormhaven still stood.

The fleet celebrated.

Knox planned.
Sarenith 23 — Scags Rotgram’s Journal

On the new moon, the day Harrigan had meant to make his attack, the crew turned instead toward Harrigan himself.

Scags Rotgram’s journal was spread across the table before them, its torn pages weighted with knives, cups, and bits of shot. The dead first mate’s hand had been bitter and practical, the work of a man who had served Harrigan long enough to fear him properly and hate him usefully.

Never fight the fortress all at once.

Make the fortress fight itself, one room at a time.

The entries spoke of the reef-serpent: green scales longer than a longboat, eyes like lanterns beneath the water, trained by the creature Harrigan called Master Vortan and others called the Tongue. They spoke of bronze gongs, fresh blood, and the offering that taught the beast which ships to spare. They spoke of the western cliffs, where at low tide a cave mouth showed beneath the rocks; of an underwater tunnel thirty yards long; of an air-filled chamber beneath the island; of a passage rising through natural stone into the fortress’s lower stores.

No guards.

No locks.

No bloody Harrigan.

Knox read that line twice.

By the end of Sarenith 23, the decision had been made. The fleet would hold Stormhaven. The crew of the Isendrak would go to Harrigan’s island and finish what had begun aboard the Wyrmwood long ago.

They sailed before grief could grow comfortable.
Sarenith 26 — Beneath Harrigan’s Island

On Sarenith 26, they reached the island.

The sea gave them the door, as Scags had promised.

It did not give it kindly.

The tunnel beneath the western cliffs was black, narrow, and breathing with the tide. The party passed through salt water and stone into the hidden chambers below Harrigan’s fortress, only to find that the island had teeth of its own. A building-sized anemone waited in the dark, all poison and grasping hunger, and nearly took Eubels before steel, spell, and fury cut it apart. Knox harvested what poison he could from the thing’s corpse, because waste was for men with less urgent enemies.

Deeper in, as they prepared themselves beneath the fortress, a giant crawfish burst upon them in the gloom. Its claws nearly tore Taur’Thalion apart, and its poisoned tail drove the lesson home: even the secret way in was not safe. But the creature died, as things tended to die when they reached too confidently for the Isendrak’s crew.

They rested there beneath Harrigan’s own stronghold, surrounded by stone, seawater, and the knowledge that morning would bring them upward into the heart of it.
Sarenith 27 — The Assault from Below

On Sarenith 27, they climbed.

They came up from below already armed with magic and intent. Guards shouted from both sides. Clerics reached for their spells and died with Knox’s arrows in them. Adolfo met a barbed devil’s strike, turned it aside, and answered with a riposte that bit deep. Carolina surged forward. Sushi wrapped a cleric in a spinning aqueous orb. Eubels chomped a barbed devil in half. Elara’s lightning tore through the chamber, smugglers scattering and evading by instinct, while one cleric failed to move quickly enough and vanished in the flash.

Then the fortress began to answer.

Scrag trolls burst in from outside. Taur’Thalion, to the surprise of nearly everyone, copied Elara’s art and cast lightning of his own. Knox spread arrows among the trolls, not to kill them, but to prepare them. Elara finished what he had measured. Batrachus and Eubels smashed through smugglers and devils in the press. Sushi called mephits into the fight, and their fire finished the fallen trolls before they could rise again.

Then came the Tongue.

Invisible, hateful, and too late to stop the breach, he struck where it hurt. His spell took Elara and turned her to stone.

For a breath, the room froze with her.

Then the crew redoubled.

Sushi’s faerie fire found the Tongue’s shape. Knox turned that shape into a target. Carolina killed another cleric. More reinforcements poured in. More barbed devils came. Erinyes archers lifted out of the sleet storm and began to fire from above.

Adolfo rose to meet them.

And beneath Harrigan’s fortress, with Elara stone-still behind them and the stronghold finally awake, the crew of the Isendrak pressed on.

Stormhaven Population: 429 (small town)

Crew:
Aboard the Isendrek:
Pemdas
barefoot samms toppin
fluhtred
claw
songer
baaka
ambrose kroop
breaker bones
randy dandy
guitard
giffer tibbs
badger medlar
crimson cog cogward
Stabsy Thistlewink
Red-itch rick
Nome de guere
Dad murderin-Jim
Baeg McBaeg
Captain Inspector Riggle Safety McGee
Karen Long
Iwaowy
Eileen Dexy
Yoshimi
Valen
Kurdin
Beautiful Brian
Tina Scrimshaw
Sohcahtoa
Dad Murderin' Tim
Bigger Johnson
Krab Rangoon
Washington Washington
The Rim Reaper
Itchy Toe Greg
Crashmore

Aboard the Thresher:
Sandra Quinn
Eli La Valette
David Faraget
Thresher 1
Thresher 2
Thresher 3
Thresher 4
Thresher 5
Thresher 6
Thresher 7
Thresher 8
Thresher 9
Thresher 10
Thresher 11
Thrsher 12
Thrsher 13
Thresher 14
Thrsher 15
Ollo 12
Ollo 13
Ollo 14
Ollo 15
Ollo 16
Quent 1
Quent 2
Quent 3
Quent 4
Quent 5
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Port Peril 3
Port Peril 4

Port Peril 5
Ollo 1
Ollo 2
Ollo 3
Ollo 4
Ollo 5
Ollo 6
Ollo 7
Ollo 8
Ollo 9
Ollo 10
Ollo 11

Aboard Spellwake
Conchobar
Rosie
Master Destiny Force

Spellwake 1-30
Quent 1
Quent 2
Quent 3
Quent 4
Quent 5
Quent 6
Quent 7
Quent 8
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Port peril 3

Aboard Jester's Grin
All Players
Jesters' Grin 1-20
Quent 1-30

At Tidewater Rock:
Owlbear Hartshorn
Gukka
Original Guard 1
Orginal Guard 2
Original Guard 3
Original Guard 4
Ollo 1
Ollo 2
Quent 1
Quent 2
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Royster McCleigh
Lady Agasta Smythe

Plunder:
7 at Fort Knox (Fort Knox holds a max of 24 plunder; for 3 plunder the vault can be expand capacity to 48)
8 on Jester's Grin

Clocks
Crowley Crab refresh Lover's Moon (Erastus)
First day of 4718: Get a wish from Vailea

Party disrepute/infamy after last session = 32/33

End of Session Bookkeeping...
Taur'Thalian Sigtrygrrson: L9 Half-elf skald (Dragon skald)
Sushi: L8 Tengu druid (shark-shaman) of Hei Feng
Batrachus: L1 Boggard brawler (wild child)/L7 Hunter
Elara Variel: L9 Human witch (fey-touched hexer)
The Great Adolfo: L9 Human swashbuckler (Inspired blade)
Lawrence "Hard" Knox: L8 Half-orc ranger (Divine tracker)
Phoebe Flynn: L8 Human cleric (Undead lord)

Today's Date: Evening Sarentih 16, 4717

Session 20 Summary (July) Written by Sushi's player

The off-key singing in Port Peril is the worst wake-up for those nursing a rum hangover. But how else could Sushi forget the surprise attack by Red Mantis assassins, other than the tumult of Hei-Feng’s favored pastime? But while enjoying a greasy fish breakfast at a dockside vendor, Badger Medlar’s shrill voice carries over the seabirds and stevedores. Sushi gives Badger a glance as he steps aboard, calming his temper before saying a word, but even Badger has grown accustomed to his occasional scowl. “Can’t do anything right today,” she mutters as she hands over pilot duties to Elara and trudges off to her bunk. Badger snores loudly, as the ship makes way, and Sushi recounts the troubles the crew of the Isendrek have and will face over the coming months. As he and the ship’s medics care for the injured as best they can, he tries his best to organize his thoughts. The crew of the Isendrek obviously has plenty of enemies in the Shackles, but who had deep enough pockets to afford the Red Mantis? On top of that Tessa Fairwind had been calling on Taur’thalian more and more, and hinting that Captain Knox should be assembling a fleet to move against Harrigan, our one-time captain. And it did seem the rumors were true that Harrigan and his raving lunatic crews were moving on Stormhaven. Chelaxian spies be damned I suppose, because it was time to set sail, finish our recruiting, discover whatever artifacts we had time to pull up from the seas, and make it to Stormhaven in less than a month.

On Desnus 19, the Jester’s Grin left port, and with our full crew complement we cruised easily towards Firegrass Island and Kelizar’s Atoll. During the liminal hours of pre-dawn on Desnus 23, Batrachus woke from a vision, and had Badger Medlar change course to return to Little Oppara, to find the cursed black pearl that nearly destroyed Kraken’s Cove, whose fragments were sold there. We discuss options, but Batrachus is adamant, Elara agrees, and Sushi and Adolfo know that some time in Little Oppara may give the crew time to hunt for appropriate trinkets to give to the Taldor-obsessed brine dragon, Kelizar. Vasile Drustan, who came into possession of the fragments in Little Oppara tells us that he sold them to Tara Var, an occult collector who lives in the East Highwind section of Port Peril.

The next day we were sailing back to Port Peril. Never let anyone say the portents of a frog have no effect on this world. On Desnus 27 we were back in Port Peril. Tara Vor has a sprawling manor in East Highwind and Elara speaks to nobility well. She leads us into the golem-served home and Elara and Tara have a long conversation about Elara’s history. Tara is very interested in the connection that Elara has to Aroden’s death, and knows why the aboleths seek her. She also gets a good reading of Batrachus. We buy the pearls for 3000 gp. We give Buttcavage the fragments of the pearl for safe keeping. Before we head back to the ship, we do discover that a purple-armed freak is wanted for murder in Port Peril, and it’s probably OUR purple-armed freak.

On Sarenith 1 we finally arrive at Goatshead. Merill Pegsworthy is ready to serve us, but we have to convince his crew. Adolfo and Elara convince them with heroic tales, and we gain a squadron to take on Harrigan.

On Sarenith 2 we arrived at Kelizar’s Atoll, bearing gifts of knightly romance novels, knight miniatures, a knight statue on a horse, and other gifts of Taldane heraldry. Kelizar is impressed by the gifts and by the silver tongues of Adolfo and Elara, and lets us explore the ship he guards crashed beneath the atoll. We are attacked by sea cats, and take them out quickly. Adolfo spots the third piece of the Three Reasons to Live. We rejoice at our good fortune and head back to the ship.

Our arrival in Quent on Sarenith 4 was met with little fanfare as the small officer crew takes a dinghy to land and begins recruiting and looking for the whereabouts of Scags, Harrigan’s old first mate. Sushi and Batrachus hit the bars, using their liquored charms to attempt to find out more about the former bosun. They are met with many dead ends in terms of information, but enjoy the few nights out in Quent. Elara and Adolfo recruit a total of 37 crew members, with notable standouts Dad Murderin’ Tim, Bigger Johnson, Krab Rangoon, Washington Washington, The Rim Reaper, Itchy Toe Greg, and Crashmore. On our last day in Quent, Elara also finds out that Scags’ last known location was at Dagon’s Jaws.

We are asked to meet with Arronax Endymion, captain of the Tyrannus, the flagship of Hell Harbor. Endymion wants us to find out who is smearing his name. He gives us the location of a theater in Hell Harbor which is putting on shows disparaging him. Red Tooth vows to ally against Harrigan.

Back at sea, Elara has a dream of the great aboleth Mohl’o’mog, where she is told that Nalt Island is key to her destiny. On the morning of Sarenith 9 we arrive at Dagon’s Jaw, a set of two islands with a nasty inlet between them. We take a wide berth around with Elara masterfully steering the ship, and we identify the western island as having some landmarks that might be interesting. We take the ship’s boat to the island and begin an ascent up the plateau out of the jungle. We reach a set of a dozen huts on soil and crazed pirates attack! We are able to talk them down and their leader, Alise Grogblood, tells us that she was part of Scags crew and that Scags is now dead. We promise to get her off the island and she tells us that Scags has a journal on his broken ship in a sea cave on the eastern island. We go to explore some of the other landmarks of the western isle, in particular a spring dedicated to Pharasma which anoints our weapons with undead bane magic. We head to the southernmost point of the plateau to find an automaton named The Watcher. He tells us his name is Lakorian-Kriss and that if we can anoint the Duskwatcher statues he guards with water from the spring, he will be released from his duty as Watcher. We are not entirely sure why we are drawn to help the automaton, but we fetch the water and anoint the duskwatcher statues. He thanks us and departs, disappearing in a puff of smoke after he snapped his fingers. Afterwards, we find that we lose the ability to use the magic of the spring. Such is life.

We head to the eastern island, and find a ships’ graveyard inside the cave. We identify the Devilish Dutchess, Scags’ old ship, and Elara’s eye also detects some dolphins and ghouls floating around the ships. We head in to battle the undead, and the dolphins also attack. The dolphins are actually a kind of undead that can shape change called brykolakas, some kind of cursed watery undead from the Iobarian islands.

We leave the island, with Alise promising she will meet us at the Isle of Empty Eyes after repairing the Devilish Dutchess. We also recover 8 plunder from the various ships in the cave. When we arrive in Little Oppara on Sarenith 10, we gain infamy for our exploits at Dagon’s Jaw.

We spend days traveling overseas towards Hell Harbor. During this time we check out Scags journal, which details many of Barnabas Harrigan’s idiosyncrasies, as well as a hidden route into his base of operations! A guard named Barbara meets us outside the theater that is disparaging Endymion. The guard does not want to let us pass, and a bone devil appears to fight. We are able to put down the bone devil, and realize that Barbara was always an illusion. Inside the theater we fight Lady Nightshade, Isawyn, and Gorebeard Trench, members of the theater troupe. They are a tough crew, and Isawyn nearly charms the pants, hauberks, belts, chain mail, and other armors off Adolfo and Batrachus. Thankfully some chilly weather found its way inside to distract them and allow us to take out most of them slowly, with Carolina and Eubels, leading a melee fight against the remaining foes, and the lightning bolts of Elara putting them down for good. After the fight, Batrachus beheads most of the foes, and mounts their heads on stakes outside the theater; writing in blood, “Under New Management: Auditions Monday.” And this frog-man is wanted in Port Peril?

On the evening of Sarenith 16, we come upon a fleet of M’beke Dwarf ships, carrying gold towards the coast. Captain Grimothy flags us down and indicates that he wants to share in taking them in combat. They are a fleet of five, including the flagship, Storm’s Anvil, and our two ships do our best, but in the end we need to retreat and repair the ship.

This is a vignette written after Session 20 by Adolfo's player. It is not the official summary....

More Than Just a Hangover

Adolfo awoke with a start, sitting straight up, his arms flailing for a moment as his brain quickly ascertained that he was not, in fact, tied down. The utter darkness he awoke in offered no assurance, causing him to move his arms and legs a bit more to verify his freedom. He sighed in relief.

A second realization hit him almost immediately… this was not his bed. But even in the inky darkness Adolfo’s keen senses quickly identified his location. He felt the slow sway of a docked ship, or more specifically, the Isendrek. To Adolfo, every ship had its own subtle feel and sounds and the Isendrek had felt and sounded like home for so long. He smiled to himself as his ears picked up the familiar, gentle breathing to his left.

He turned and let his keen ears guide him to place a soft, nurturing kiss on Sandara’s forehead as she dozed at his side. The kiss was as much a sign of affection as it was a second validation that she was truly there. The lingering pit in his stomach relented a bit more at the touch of her skin. He chuckled to himself as he recalled her suggestion from the night before… “Let’s sleep in Knox’s quarters!”

He deftly swung his legs out from under the sheets so as not to wake her and set his feet upon the wooden floor. The Isendrek’s timber provided a lovely, cooling relief to his feet. He wiped the sweat from his brow and hunched forward, resting his elbows on his knees, cradling his head in his hands.

This was the third nightmare of the evening, and it felt somehow even more vivid than the last two, if that was even possible. Normally, Adolfo would immediately dismiss a dream with such a negative theme, but this time he wanted to hold onto it as much as he could. The repetitive nature of the dream demanded his attention. He racked his brain and concentrated on the fleeting images in the back of his mind. His senses fired scenes and sounds and smells at him in what felt like an active assault from his subconscious mind onto his very vulnerable and confused conscious one.

The faint smell of the sea quickly drowned out by a sickly, alchemical smell of disinfectant.
The image of a well-worn, faded book with the word “Magnificent” being the only word still barely legible on the cover.
A scene through a barred window of tropical birds, draped in the most vibrantly beautiful plumage, scattering in a frenzy at the sound of a boy’s scream.
The feel of heavy rope digging deeply into the flesh around the wrists and ankles as the faint image of a boy clad in a horribly sad, bland grey outfit sitting helplessly in a mirror at the edge of view.
The feel of rough fabric against the skin growing wet with urine and blood as the sound of some horrid, unseen machine gets louder and louder and louder…

The sky above the Isendrek’s sails spun wildly as Adolfo struggled to keep his balance. His left hand found purchase on the portside railing, just in time to allow him to get his head over the railing and allow the contents of his stomach to take a late-night dip in the briny blue.

“What the hell” he thought to himself.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had ‘lost time’ before today. It might have been as far back as that huge battle defending The Rock. But this evening it had been a recurring issue. At least 4 or 5 different instances throughout the party, he found himself at a loss for what had just happened. But he had quickly dismissed the few minutes here and there of missing time and chalked them up to drinking far too many spirits and consuming a strong dose of poisoned shark.

But this was different. He had left Knox’s quarters, gotten fully dressed and now was clutching his little homemade strongbox under his right arm, which he clearly must have fetched from his own quarters before coming out on deck.

He vomited a second time and fell to his knees. A blinding pain shot through the back of his head. He stared at the strongbox.

“Why the hell did I get this?” he thought to himself.

He had hidden this box in his room and hadn’t thought of it more than a handful of times since doing so. For some reason anytime he even remembered its existence his mind would push it out of his head, with a lingering feeling of dread and curiosity blowing away in the sea air.

But now that he had it in his hands again, he could feel an almost palpable energy vibrating off it.

He felt his arm jerk involuntarily in a motion to presumably heave the box overboard. He quickly secured it with his other hand and shook off the impulse. He stared blankly at his arm for a moment, slowly opening and closing his hand to confirm he had regained control after its brief foray into autonomy.

After another minute or two spent staring at the box, he snapped himself out of it with a quick slap to the face.

“Ha, ha, haaaa!” his inner monologue bellowed to himself. “The Great Adolfo is not afraid of anything! Especially not some silly box!”

That was enough to get him back into form. He stood up, smoothed out his jacket and readjusted his cloak and hat. He pulled his handkerchief out and wiped his mouth as he noticed a crew member, clearly on night security, tentatively approaching from the fore deck. Adolfo gave him a quick smile and a nod and marched dutifully off to find a more private place to deal with, well, whatever the hell this was.

Having designed and built these docks himself, Adolfo knew the perfect place to go for some privacy. There was a spot all the way at the end of the docks, beyond the last moored ship. It was, in essence, an emergency slip, in case a ship needed to unload personnel or cargo quickly while the dock was at capacity. Nobody patrolled down this far. A torch was set at the very end where the boardwalk halted abruptly. He hopped down the meter and a half drop onto the sand below. He regarded the view of the moonlit ocean for a moment before retreating under the dock.

As he settled down into the soft sand, he pulled a hidden rope that was tucked up between the beams supporting the dock. Some sandy-colored curtains unfurled and draped down around him, concealing him completely. He pulled down a hooded lantern that was tucked away behind a support and hung it on a hook above him. With the lantern above the dock drowning out any light escaping from his little makeshift hideout, and the curtains surrounding him, no one would know he was down there unless they happened to walk by on the sand right in front of the dock and purposely inspect it… highly unlikely.

He sat there for a moment, the cool sand feeling soothing against his hands as he set the small box down in front of him. But as he reached to open it, that slight feeling of dread crept back in. He was able to get the box open about an inch or two before his left hand suddenly slapped the box closed. He recoiled slightly, then leaned back in his seated position, resting on his elbows in the soft sand.

His heart was suddenly racing.

He closed his eyes and took a few, long, slow breaths to collect himself.

“C’mon Adolfo” he said to himself. “You need to get a hold of yourself!”

With that he sat up straight and quickly flipped open the box. He closed his eyes and actively winced for a moment as if expecting an explosion or something. But the sounds of the waves lapping on the beach were all he heard. He slowly opened his eyes and regarded the contents of the box.

First, was a small, tattered piece of sail. He had nicked it off the edge of the mainsail of the Isendrek back when it went under some another name under that “Captain Hairy Cans” or whatever the hell his name was. He remembered how excited he was to join the ship and surprised at how either angry, sad or scared everyone else seemed to be.

He took the sail into his hand and rubbed it between his fingers.

“What an adventure!” he thought “The Great Adolfo’s first foray into piracy in the Shackles!”

He folded it up gently and placed it back in the box.

Next he eyed a small tuft of fur tied neatly in a silk ribbon. He picked it up gingerly and closed his eyes. Somehow the strong musk of the powerful Valmora still lingered on her long-discarded fur. Mixed emotions of gratitude and grief stirred in his chest as he returned it to the box.

His eyes jumped to a folded piece of paper tucked in the front. He picked it up but didn’t bother to unfold it. Sandara’s first of many love notes to him… this one from the first night they had spent together. He smiled as he let his mind take him back there for a moment.

A number of other odds and ends reminding him of his friends and adventures took their turn in his mind, but he seemed to be unconsciously avoiding the largest one… a rolled up map.

His mind inadvertently jumped to that odd “Captain Prendergast” or whatever his name was… and his associate, that rugged looking but very impudent fellow whose name escaped him (unsurprisingly). Those two had acted as if they knew The Great Adolfo but he could swear they had never met before.

“They must have been admirers of The Great Adolfo!” the thought to himself. “Sometimes you hear enough stories about a hero, that you feel you know them…maybe even regard them as family!”

That’s how he had dismissed it when they met. That’s how he was trying to dismiss it now. But something inside of him wasn’t letting him let it go this time. It felt almost like a hole was forming inside his mind, trying to let something out.

That captain had mentioned this map. Said he knew Adolfo hadn’t followed it and politely asked for it back.

“Ridiculous!” thought Adolfo. “This has always been mine. But how did he know…”

He picked up the map and began unrolling it. As he did the hole in his mind seemed to open more as he did.

“Besides, what sort of captain is he?” his mind continued. “If this was his, why would he simply ‘ask’ for it back instead of demanding it! And what pirate would I be to simply hand it over to him…”

This logic was sound and only helped to open the hole even further.

When he finally set eyes on the contents of the map, something finally broke through.

“Reg can’t have this back” he said out loud, speaking to no one.

He froze for a moment and shook his head.

“Reg” he whispered to himself. “Why would I call him that? He is Captain Reginald Pettiford III… Captain of the Oasis, who carries himself with honor and poise, speaks with utmost respect and is a sharp dresser as well!”

He had liked him almost immediately, but now that he thought of it, he liked him a little too much. The Great Adolfo regarded everyone with some level of suspicion… so why not him?

“And that boorish Pierce fellow” he continued. “To act so familiar with me and to ogle my sweetest Sandara so openly! I should have put him in his place!”

But a different thought swept in. Why didn’t he put him in his place? And why did he feel almost as much affection for that man as well. He clearly did nothing to deserve that. If anything, he deserved a fist to the face.

But the fact that he distinctly remembered their names was the real surprise. And after saying both names out loud a frightening realization came crashing through.

“Every time he had lost time, it had something to do with them!” he gasped

His mind began flashing through time.

After he had first met them he couldn’t remember his walk back off the docks until Knox had given him a hearty slap on the back and asked if he was alright.

During the party, he had noticed them looking over at him several times, and it was clear they were talking about him. Reginald always seemed to have a smile on his face and Pierce was shaking his head, sometimes with a smirk, most often with a slightly annoyed look.

Every time he saw Reginald smile, time would jump. A moment later he was reeling with unease but with a calm sense of happiness surrounding him. No wonder he had thought it was just the alcohol.

The feeling had reminded him of home… of his mother. When she had cooked him a lovely meal, or comforted him after a hard fall, or had tended to him when he was ill. She had the kindest face. He closed his eyes to take him back there, like he always did. But something was wrong… her face… it was a blur. He struggled to find it. But the Captain…

Reg…

Quickly his mind snapped back to the party.

The paramount moment of his night, when he took the dueling trial challenge and put on a display of steel the likes of which none of them had ever seen. His opponent was very talented, but The Great Adolfo has disarmed them in an instant… and twice in a row!

In the midst of the partygoers erupting in a combination of gasps, cheers and applause, he remembered his eyes jumping first to Sandara who had exploded with joy when he won. But they quickly jumped to Reginald and Pierce right after. Reginald was high fiving everyone around him, including Pierce who half-heartedly received the high-five, his mouth agape as he stared at Adolfo, shaking his head as the norm.

This was the most extreme of the ‘time jumps’ at the party, as his next memory was at the bar, Sandara draped around his neck as Knox and his fellow officers and friends toasted and drank deeply in celebration. But his mind snapped back to Pierce.

“That man” he though to himself. “He was so jealous of me being with Sandara. I heard him say so many times. And he was even more jealous of seeing my steel in action!”

But was it jealousy? Again, Adolfo couldn’t shake the strange realization that none of Pierce’s behavior bothered him at all. In fact, he was feeling happy that Pierce was seeing him in his element. He wanted to prove something to him so badly.

And Pierce’s reactions, though on the surface seeming scornful, felt different. Adolfo felt like Pierce… was proud, in some familiar way, though he would never want to show it.

He thought back to his moves during the duel. His six older brothers had taught him the arts of the blade. His oldest had taught him how to parry. His third oldest taught him to perfect his footwork. The second youngest had a special maneuver to disarm. And he had used all of these moves to win this duel.

He went back in his mind to his home, on the vineyard, where the largest hill served as the training grounds for his family. His father had died young, but his brothers had shown him the way.

He pictured sparring with his oldest, learning to deflect his blows, his other brothers standing by, watching and cheering them on.

But again, his memory was failing… he could not picture any of their faces. And their names… what were their names. Just one name…

The brothers on the sidelines faded. The vineyard started to blur around him. Only the oldest remained, his face featureless, offering no answers.

“What was his name?” he said out loud, eyes now squeezing shut.

“Pierce?”

He snapped out of it. His heart was racing and another layer of sweat had formed on his brow.

But he was back. The party was gone. The vineyard was gone. There he sat. With just a box of trinkets and a map.

But as he went to place the map back in and close the box for good, he noticed a small space in the back of the box, recessed under the far side of the lid. He reached in and felt an item he didn’t recognize at all. That feeling of unease returned as he reached in and pulled it out into view.

It was small stuffed bunny, heavily worn and missing one of its glass eyes, which had been replaced with a makeshift button eye. He furrowed his brow in confusion. This certainly wasn’t his. But there was a comfort welling in his heart, in deep contrast to the pit that was forming in his stomach.

A strange memory lingered at the edge of his consciousness. He heard a young, timid voice speak out in his mind.

“I’ll call you Rudolph.” it said joyfully, though with a melancholy in its tone.

His mother must have given him this, he thought as he inspected it further. As he turned it over a small tag jutted out from next to its tail. The words written there were faded but still legible. In the soft light of the lantern Adolfo had to strain a bit to read them. They were written in blocky print, clearly by a child.

“For Frankie”

The words hit him like a lightning bolt to the brain. He dropped the bunny. It fell back into the box, tumbling back into the empty spot in the back, near where it had been hiding before. It felt as if it was retreating back into its hole at Adolfo’s will, as if begging to be lost again in time.

As he reached to pick it back up he noticed a second item tucked in the back under the lid…a crumpled piece of paper.

The shock from the tag on the bunny was still resonating, so much so that Adlofo could hear his heartbeat thumping in his ears, a high-pitched ringing ever-present behind it. He grabbed the crumpled paper. As he brough it closer it occurred to him that the ball of paper seemed to pulse with each beat of his heart.

Despite every instinct screaming at him to stop, he began opening the paper ball… slowly but purposefully.

Once sufficiently ‘un-crumpled’, he began reading it out loud.

“The Weatherby House for…”

He got no further. The nightmares from earlier in the evening came rushing back in, assaulting his mind.

The disinfectant… the birds… the book… the rope… the machine…getting louder and louder and louder and…

A warm, salty breeze swept over him as the sun poured in from a window nearby. A small boy stood in front of him. He liked this boy. He was the only thing in this room that didn’t scare him. The boy smiled and reached out. He was holding a small stuffed bunny. Adolfo reached out only to find his hand was that of a boy’s as well. But he was wearing this horribly drab and uncomfortably rough gray shirt. As he took the bunny, he noticed that though the boy smiled at him, behind his eyes was sadness.

Those eyes. That smile. That sadness. Is that?

“Captain?”

Lightning struck outside and clouds blocked out the sun. Metal bars slid out of the wall and covered the windows. A hand clamped down on his shoulder and began pulling him away. The boy in front of him relinquished the rabbit but kept his hand out, reaching for him, his smile turning into a frown, the sadness growing only stronger as Adolfo was dragged further and further away… into darkness.

He was on his hands and knees, frantically digging in the sand. He stopped and looked at his hands. He quickly confirmed they were again the hands of an adult. He looked up to catch his surroundings. He had run a good distance down the beach, away from the dock. He was on his knees in front of a fairly substantial, hand-dug hole in the sand. The box was closed, sitting to the side.

He was clearly burying it… and trying to bury it for good.

He had finally had enough. He stood up, leaned his head back to face the sky and bellowed furiously “Ha, ha haaaa!”

He opened the box, pulled out the map, and stuffed it into his inner jacket pocket.

He grabbed the paper and the bunny, one in each hand and laughed again and bellowed at the sea.

“I do not know where these thoughts are coming from and what form of enchantment this is, but I am The Great Adolfo!”

The ocean offered no response.

He stuffed the paper and bunny back in the box, slammed it shut, and tucked it under his arm.

He straightened his hat and smoothed his cloak with his free hand as he turned back toward the dock. He closed his eyes and breathed deeply.

Then he repeated one last time, as if to reassure himself once and for all.

“I am the Great Adolfo!” he announced as if speaking to every soul in The Shackles, in addition to himself.

He glanced down at the box under his arm one last time before marching off.

“And it is time to get to the bottom of this!!!”

Session 19: This is the spot where I would post the summary of Session 20 (June), but my player is overdue writing it.

Similar question to j-train-1's question from 2017....

The shrine of Norgorber has an unhallow effect that caries a silence spell effect that targets all non-worshipers of Norgorber.

1. Do the players get a saving throw vs. this effect?
1a: Do players walking around make noise? Asking because I could see my players sending someone in invisible first and this really has the potential to boost his stealth.
2. How does ambient noise in the room work? Can the clerics of Norgorber hear it? Can the players hear it?
3. I guess this goes without saying, but this will also affect all non-Norgorber worshippers among Harrigan's crew.
3a. Does Harrigan count as a Norgorber worshipper? I'm inclined to say no but some language in the adventure makes it seem like a possibility.

Fundamentally: Is everything silence except Norgorber worshippers? Or are all creatures who don't worship Norgorber silenced?

Does the sea cave on Garnett Isle provide a route directly into Harrigan's fortress? Or is this just a way to bypass the cliffs that surround the island without being spotted?

30-foot high cliffs are not much of a barrier to a high level party of adventurers.

Stormhaven Population: 20

Crew:
Aboard the Isendrek:
Knox
Elara
Pheobe
Sushi
Great Adolpho
Taur
Batrachus
Pemdas
barefoot samms toppin
fluhtred
claw
songer
baaka
ambrose kroop
breaker bones
randy dandy
guitard
giffer tibbs
badger medlar
crimson cog cogward
Stabsy Thistlewink
Red-itch rick
Nome de guere
Dad murderin-Jim
Baeg McBaeg
Captain Inspector Riggle Safety McGee
Karen Long
Iwaowy
Eileen Dexy
Yoshimi
Valen
Kurdin
Beautiful Brian
Tina Scrimshaw
Sohcahtoa

Aboard the Thresher:
Sandra Quinn
Eli La Valette
David Faraget
Thresher 1
Thresher 2
Thresher 3
Thresher 4
Thresher 5
Thresher 6
Thresher 7
Thresher 8
Thresher 9
Thresher 10
Thresher 11
Thrsher 12
Thrsher 13
Thresher 14
Thrsher 15
Ollo 12
Ollo 13
Ollo 14
Ollo 15
Ollo 16
Quent 1
Quent 2
Quent 3
Quent 4
Quent 5
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Port Peril 3
Port Peril 4

Port Peril 5
Ollo 1
Ollo 2
Ollo 3
Ollo 4
Ollo 5
Ollo 6
Ollo 7
Ollo 8
Ollo 9
Ollo 10
Ollo 11

Aboard Spellwake
Conchobar
Rosie
Master Destiny Force

Spellwake 1-30
Quent 1
Quent 2
Quent 3
Quent 4
Quent 5
Quent 6
Quent 7
Quent 8
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Port peril 3

Aboard Jester's Grin
Captain?
Jesters' Grin 1-20

At Tidewater Rock:
Owlbear Hartshorn
Gukka
Original Guard 1
Orginal Guard 2
Original Guard 3
Original Guard 4
Ollo 1
Ollo 2
Quent 1
Quent 2
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Royster McCleigh
Lady Agasta Smythe

Plunder:
7 at Fort Knox (Fort Knox holds a max of 24 plunder; for 3 plunder the vault can be expand capacity to 48)

Clocks
Crowley Crab has completed scouring
First day of 4718: Get a wish from Vailea

Party disrepute/infamy after last session = 32/33

End of Session Bookkeeping...
Taur'Thalian Sigtrygrrson: L9 Half-elf skald (Dragon skald)
Sushi: L8 Tengu druid (shark-shaman) of Hei Feng
Batrachus: L1 Boggard brawler (wild child)/L7 Hunter
Elara Variel: L8 Human witch (fey-touched hexer)
The Great Adolfo: L9 Human swashbuckler (Inspired blade)
Lawrence "Hard" Knox: L8 Half-orc ranger (Divine tracker)
Phoebe Flynn: L8 Human cleric (Undead lord)

Today's Date: Evening Desnus 12, 4717

Session 17 Summary
May

Gosrin 12
The first rays of the sun touched the cyclopean watchtower first, illuminating the bloodstains, broken arrows, and shattered gates left by the Stormriders’ assault. The sun rose further, lighting the trees of the plateau in which they had fought and slain a monstrous reptile. Further; the rays touching the tops of scaffolded towers in the newly claimed Fort Knox. They shon through an open window and into the Captain’s new room.
All was in order. His sea chest was carefully closed and placed precisely at the foot of his bed. If one had looked inside, they would have found everything neatly squared away – folded, packed, wrapped, and ready at a moment’s notice to take to the sea. The haft of a halberd rested in easy reach. Longbow and quiver lay on a nearby table. Beside his bed was an empty glass next to a small portrait of a handsome, powerful-looking human woman, a stout, green-tinged child at her side – both well-dressed and carefully groomed. No smiles, though.
The man himself was askew. Tangled in sheets, limbs akimbo, his eyes fluttered open. He frowned at the sun streaming through his window.
“Overslept.” He said to no one. Or, worse, to himself, the word dripping with derision.
He extracted himself from his blankets and, with crisp, practiced movements, made his bed. He knelt, pressed his hands against the floor, extended his legs, and began to press himself up and down. Sweat began to bead on his face. Rising, he lifted his sea chest and begin to squat down and up, down and up. More sweat. He kept his breathing even as a metronome.
Finally, he put the chest back precisely in the center of the foot of the bed and heaved a sigh. Slowly, as if moving through water, he walked to a desk, withdrew a sheet of vellum, dipped a pen, and began to write as the sun rose through his window.

To the Most Honored Lady of the Temple of Calistria in Quent,

I pray this letter finds you in excellent health, high favor, and exercising the authority so properly vested in you.
I write to you from the Isle of Empty Eyes, which is now mine by right of victory in the Regatta and formal recognition under the laws and customs of the Shackles. The island is not yet what it shall become, but it is already yielding to discipline. The harbor is being measured and improved, the fortifications surveyed and put to repair, and the labor of shaping this place into a worthy stronghold has begun in earnest.
My fleet, too, has grown. What was once a single hard-won ship is now a small squadron under my banner, each hull serving its purpose under ordered command. It is, I think, the beginning of something enduring.
It would mean a great deal to me if you would attend the soirée that is to be held here for the Free Captains of the Shackles. You would see with your own eyes what has been accomplished, and what is beginning. If it pleases you, I would also welcome any suitable company from the Church in Quent whom you deem proper to bring. Your presence would honor the occasion beyond any mere political advantage, and I confess I should be glad of your judgment upon the island, the fleet, and the quality of the order I have imposed here.
As part of the obligations attending this grant, I am required to host a gathering for the pirate nobility of these waters. It is not enough that the evening be merely festive. It must be memorable, impressive, and executed with such polish that no one present can doubt the seriousness of my position or the permanence of my claim.
To that end, I ask your assistance in a matter for which your discernment is far superior to my own.
I would ask that you arrange, as discreetly as possible, for the dispatch of the finest male and female company that Quent, or any neighboring port touched by your influence, may furnish. I do not mean common revelers or coarse dockside entertainments, but the very best: companions of beauty, wit, elegance, and cultivated social instinct, fit to attend the most exacting and vanity-ridden captains in the Shackles. They should be capable not merely of pleasing the senses, but of flattering pride, smoothing temperament, and elevating the entire tone of the event. I leave the selection entirely to your judgment, as I trust it completely.
There is one further matter upon which I would forewarn you.
I believe it possible that my father may make some appearance in connection with these proceedings. I cannot yet say in what fashion—openly, indirectly, or merely at the edge of rumor—but signs of his presence have grown less remote of late, and I think it only proper that you hear this from me rather than by some lesser tongue.
I do not believe he yet understands the extent to which our affairs and his have begun to overlap. Should he connect you to me, his attention may sharpen. I am not yet prepared to move openly against him, and I think it best, for the present, that he remain uncertain as to the extent of my position and resources.
If you are willing to aid me in this, please send word ahead with the names, number, and requirements of those you dispatch, so that appropriate quarters, escort, and security may be prepared. I mean for this gathering to be conducted with splendor, yes, but never without order.
I hope very much that you will come.
Your approval has always mattered to me more than the noise of any council chamber, any dockside crowd, or any cheering crew. If this island is to become worthy of my name, then I would first have it judged worthy of your eye.

I remain, always,
Your devoted son,
Laurence Horatio Knox

Captain of the Isendrak
Free Captain of the Shackles
Lord of the Isle of Empty Eyes
—-
Sometime later, Knox released a black and white striped Petrol, note firmly attached to its leg, and mouthed the last words of the messenger spell that would direct it to the House of a Thousand Kisses in Quent.
The Isle of Empty Eyes bustled with activity. Three score of the Isendrak’s crew labored under the direction of Adolfo, Sushi and, Gods help us, Batrachus. Knox stared out the tower window down toward the bay at the docks making their way out into the deeper waters. The Isendrak sat there, moored with her port cannon and catapult facing the entrance to the bay – a beast at rest, but ready in a moment for violence.
Like him.
He took ten deep breaths, his chest creaking. Each one slower than the last. He held up a small mirror, looking at the man within.
“She won’t come.” He said.
His expression may have flickered - a complex constellation of features that made him seem younger, softer. But probably it didn’t.

Gosrin 21
Adolfo’s unspoken need for an audience had quietly drawn members of the Stormriders together on the beach. Construction on the docks had halted for a brief lull. The air of expectancy hung heavy over the bay.
“Elara” he caught her attention as he walked to her, his arms holding something behind his back. Adolfo was surprisingly hesitant in his words.
“Valmora saved my life.” he knelt before the witch, her eyes still reddened from her own grief. “I have not the words,” he said “to express myself because some times are not for words, but for deeds.” He produced a lovingly crafted box of teak, inlaid with mother of pearl. Wordlessly, he presented it to Elara, and wordlessly she received it. Opening the box, she caught her breath a moment, closed it, stood and walked slowly to her tent.
Adolfo nodded with satisfaction. “Good friends deserve tears, and memory…” his face clouded and he walked off in another direction.

Gosrin 24
Ships began to arrive, even before the docks were complete. First a smaller packet ship, bound from Quent and making the rounds, put in. Off of it stepped five women, each lovelier than the last. Knox beamed, his face lit up with joy.
“Audessa f%%@in’ Reyquio” he swept her into a warm hug, “the f!*+ are you doing ere? My mother finally drive you to flee?”
Her face fell.
“Oh.” Knox took her hands. “Well, thass alright, ain’t it? You need a calm berth to shelter da storm?”
She looked worried, but certain. “I have a deal to propose, Laurence. We’re done with the temple. Getting on in years, tired of the politics and the work. You’ve carved a patch here, and we want in. We know you’ve got a party to host, and we’ll tend bar and kitchen - you know our skills. No tricks. Just food and drinks. You succeed, then you’ll employ us for a year.”
She spat on her right hand and thrust it between them. Knox spat and took it without hesitation. “F%%%in roight you will.” She leveled a stare at him. He cleared his throat. “It will be a pleasure to have you here, ‘Dessa. I swear it - no one will touch you unless by your will. Help me win this.”
Her arms wrapped around Knox’s waist, shortly joined by four other pairs. With lilting chatter and glowing faces, the five women began to stake a claim to a portion of the land just behind the beach - ordering red-faced sailors around like a boatwain born.
Knox smiled - really smiled. The kind of smile you only caught when the wind was fresh and he stood atop the deck, spray lashing about him, and his gaze rested on the Isendrek, oblivious to onlookers.

Gosrin 25
“Da f#!@ is this s**#head?” Knox asked the Great Adolfo, who was striding at his side down the newly laid planks of the deepwater docks. “He’s gonna hit your pilings at dis speed.” He began to wave as his pace increased.
“Slow da f~%$ down, you lubbers, or you’ll hit da new f~%+in’ docks!”
Matching pace, Adolfo called pleasantly, “Adolfo placed those pilings with his remarkable engineering talents and the help of a beautiful Niad. They will tear a hole in your hull before they give an inch!”
The ship, a rough-looking sloop, veered off, sails flapping as she put her head fully into the wind. The fore topsail, in the process of being reefed, shook free and flapped madly. The deck was a scene of chaos, with crew running hither and yon.
“Oi! You!” Knox called in his deck-clearing baritone. “Throw a f##~ing cable ‘ere an I’ll pull you in.” A terrified sailor heaved a rope as the ship continued to slowly drift away from the dock. Adolfo deftly snagged it from the air and, with a bow, handed it to his Captain.
“This is a job for plentiful muscles which, alas, would overly bulk the Great Adolfo’s legendary sveltness.”
Knox grinned and wrapped the rope about his arm several times before anchoring one foot on a dock piling. The rope grew taught, and water squeezed from its length as it rose from the bay. The veins on the Captain’s neck bulged as he took the strain. Something creaked - probably the rope - and the ship slowed to a halt.
Thump. Knox took one step backward, the rope stretching and then sagging as the ship began to move back toward the dock. Thump. Another step, and another. And, in short order the sloop was alongside and tied up.
“Gentlemen!” a garishly-clad man leapt over the side of the ship and onto the docks. “Why! You must be Captain Knox. I’ve heard so much about you!” The man clapped Knox on the back with a familiar ease. “And this must be the Great Adolfo!” He grinned and made a flourishing bow. “Please, would one of you direct me to my sister?”
The Great Adolfo and Captain Lawrence Horatio Knox stood bewildered, both, for once, speechless.
“Uh…” Knox began.
“Ah! Of course, you must not recognize me in my current state! I am Captain Vanthus Quinn of the Poppinjay” he gestured to the sloop behind him, in which two dozen crew frantically worked to restore order.
“Yes..?” Adolfo began.
“And, of course, my sister is Sandara Quinn - a member of your crew! I’m sure she’s mentioned me.”
Knox and Adolfo shared a long look. Knox began. “And you’re a captain? A Free Captain” with emphasis on the ‘free’.
“Ah, well, of course - not yet! Soon, though. I can feel it!” Quinn winked. “Not all of us are blessed with such astonishing good fortune as others.” He gave a pointed stare at Knox. “Still! Nice to be here and connect with family, you know? She getting in any trouble, Sandara? Handling her grog and all?”
Adolfo crossed his arms. “I regret to inform you that Captain Quinn of the Thresher has not yet put into port, although we expect her any day now.” He took a small step forward.
“Captain?” Vanthus burst into laughter. “Good one, ‘Dolfo!” He slapped the swashbuckler on the back, howling with laughter. “As if she could stay sober long enough!” He gasped and held his heaving sides. “What? Did she sleep with the entire crew?” He doubled over.
When he finally composed himself, he found himself looking up at Knox and Adolfo, side by side, arms crossed and closer than they had been. Several crew had gathered behind them, looking furious. Adolfo’s gaze was calm. Knox had a small grin that showed his tusked teeth. Quinn’s laughter faded into an awkward chuckle.
“You can’t be serious.” he spluttered. “I won’t accept..” he was cut off.
“Auxiliary Docks” Knox stated. Adolfo stared.
“What? Halfway around the island” Vanthus spluttered.
“Auxiliary…”
“But there’s no one even here!”
“Docks.”
“You have so much room!”
Adolfo finally spoke, “Ah, but not for you it seems. I will, of course, relay your message to my partner as soon as she returns.”
“Auxiliary” Knox whispered through his small grin.
“Wait.” Vanthus held up his hands. “You and my sister are fuc…”
“DOCKS!” Knox screamed, spittle flying into the other man’s face. “Auxiliary Docks!”
Both Stormriders took a step forward, crowding Quinn toward the end of the quay. He scampered over the rail as Adolfo slipped the rope from the dock cleat and Knox gave the sloop a shove. The Poppinjay made awkward sail and limped out of the harbor.
On the dock, the crew wandered back to their tasks, muttering darkly. Knox peered at Adolfo, then put an arm around his shoulders and steered him toward land.
“Well,” said Adolfo, “he’s an ass. Think he’s really related to Sandara?” Knox was quiet. “I think he may be - did you see? They have the same chin. The Great Adolfo has an impeccable memory for faces. Alas, family. One cannot choose them, eh?”
Knox gave his Master at Arms a squeeze. He locked eyes and grinned ferociously.
“Auxiliary docks.”
They high-fived just as they reached the shore.

Gosrin 26
—-
To Houkna Bewul,
The Isle of Empty Eyes is mine now but you, of course, know this. I saw you at the regatta. I saw you and I beat you. I thought it would feel better.
Did you feel humiliation?
The harbor is under reconstruction. We have already restored enough docking capacity to anchor a proper squadron, and Adolfo believes we can expand it further before the party begins - docks on the eastern side of the island and poorer births. I have dubbed them “auxiliary docks”. The fort still bears scars from the fighting, but the walls stand, and every day they stand straighter.
Batrachus has been gleefully leading the laying of artillery in the fort towers overlooking the bay. I can see him imagining lofting shots into crowded decks. Murderously practical. Very much his style.
Very much yours, perhaps.
The Isle is nothing like Dragon’s Thrall, but someday it will be. We are preparing for a gathering of Free Captains. Important ones. Judges from the Pirate Council itself – not you, though. The sort of people who decide whether a new lord survives long enough to become an old one.
I find that I care. Whether they look at me and see it. Reliability, father. Something you know nothing of.
The crew have worked themselves near to death preparing. Adolfo and Sushi rebuild the docks in impossible time. Taur’Thalion is drilling performers and musicians as though preparing for war. Elara has somehow turned fireworks into a strategic asset. Phoebe wishes to line the beaches with undead servants carrying trays of drinks, which I initially opposed before realizing it is exactly the sort of thing pirates remember. Also, the undead are remarkably well behaved.
Sometimes I walk the walls at night after the crews sleep and try to picture what it could become years from now. Stone streets. Permanent markets. Shipyards. Families.
Order. A place where no one is abandoned.
Order - Not the kind beaten into people with threats and fear.
Something better.
Something chosen.
I find that I want to try.
Three days ago we found signs of a camp on the northern side of the island. Old fire pits. Empty bottles. Hunting remains. And your sigil carved into a tree. Not recently. But not so long ago that the mark had weathered away.
You had been here.
I have spent most of my life imagining what I would say if I ever stood in front of you. Most of those speeches sounded far better in my head ten years ago. Now I think I would mostly ask questions.
Did you know about me? Did you ever intend to come back? Was I a mistake, or merely an inconvenience? Mother never speaks of you unless anger forces her to. I know she still hates you. I suspect she still loves you too.
There will be many captains here for the soirée. If word reaches you, perhaps you will come. Do I want you here? Do you even know I exist?
I’d put you in the auxiliary docks.
Sincerely,
Laurence Horatio Knox
Captain, Isendrak

Knox sighed, carefully put away the pen and ink, and healed himself with a touch and a spell. He bent to clean up the blood that spattered the floor, wiped his knife blade, and dressed himself for the day.
Knox collected his bow, running his hand lovingly along its strong curve. He stowed it in the quiver at his back, swept up his cloak, and moved to step out the door. Shouts from the tower top brought him back to the window – a ship was beating its way toward the bay entrance. The Thresher.
For a moment he stood there. His hands may have trembled, but no one was there to see it. He dragged in a breath, then another.
Strides quick, Knox moved to the door and out into the sunlight.
—-
The Thresher entered the bay beneath trimmed topsails just after sunset. Sandara.. Captain Quinn, had clearly had a successful tour. Knox admired the ship’s trim - faster than she’d been… leaner, more dangerous. He nodded with approval. A very successful tour.
He glanced to his left and right. The officers of the Isendrak were gathered to greet the ship. Adolfo nearly vibrated with excitement, his knee-high boots tapping a staccato on the newly built docks as he paced back and forth. Even so, his grace was still evident - his strides perfectly balanced. Battrachus, too, was attentive - sat on his massive haunches, newly and permanently enlarged, his bulging eyes tracked the Thresher without pause.
She moored with competence. Her topsails were swiftly furled as Quinn barked orders on the deck. Several burley sailors dropped the gangway from the deck to the high dock and, skewering custom and precedence, she came - sweeping down to the dock like a conquering empress - his mother arrived.

At the bottom of the gangway, she paused, her eyes raking the gathered Stormriders. Knox could tell when she found something she didn’t like. The tiniest arch in her eyebrow. A slight quiver of the left corner of her mouth. He cringed as she appraised and, when he could take no more, stepped forward, bowing deeply.
“Welcome to the Isle of Empty Eyes, my lady mother.”
Her arch became more pronounced. A pause and her voice rang out, husky and rich - years of practice. “And what an Isle it is!” She locked her gaze to Battrachus, “Is that your work I saw as we put into the bay?” Sirella cast her eyes to the towers of the fort. “Those murderous angles. Delightful!” She targeted a smile at the 9 foot boggard, who grinned wide and bobbed his head.
“And these docks!” She swept past Knox, touching sushi on the shoulder and resting her hand on Adolfo’s arm. “Beautifully laid, and so swiftly!” She beamed at them both. A full broadside.
“Elara Variel,” she continued, taking her hand, “I swear you are more beautiful every day.” Sirella waved to the assembled skeletal butlers, still in some disarray. “And these! Phoebe Flynn, such a savage demonstration of control. Bravo!”
”As we were entering the bay, I swear I heard some delightful singing.” She nodded to Taur’Thalion. “I assume that was your Northern brilliance I heard taming those rowdy voices?” She gave him a wicked grin. “Not too tame, now. Leave something to give us a shiver.”
At last, at long last, she turned to him.
“Knox.” She gave him a tight nod. “There is much to discuss. I think you have mislaid the road to the fort. Also, you are not planning on wearing that,” she gestured with disgust to his new dress uniform, “to the party?” She laughed, a high and delighted sound, as cold as frost, “of course you aren’t. Come, show me my rooms.”
He was eight. He had torn his britches in another fight with a boy four years his senior. He had come home, and been coddled by the whores and bouncers - a steak for his black eye, a dozen kisses for his tears - until she swept in and took him away. In private, she had ground her thumb into his bruise, repeating as he squirmed, in quiet, frozen, hisses, “You. Do. Not. Lose. Ever!”
Adolfo rescued his Captain. “Dear Lady, let me please have the honor of escorting your personage to the rooms we have prepared. I am sure my lady Captain will be busy for many minutes, even though she is dying inside for the kisses of her remarkable lover.” Sirella laughed, and slipped her arm into his.
“Such a pair you make!” She turned from her son, up to the fort. As they stepped away, she leaned into Adolfo and whispered conspiratorially, “tell me everything about the two of you.”
Knox’s knuckles creaked under the strain of his fists. He took a deep breath. Then another. Ten. Deep. Breaths.
The bustle of unloading passed around the Captain as he stood and breathed. Until…
“Husband?” he looked up. His lady wife was slowly stepping down the gangway. Her strong frame carried her pregnant belly well as she approached, her eyes looking to his with both fear and pride.
Iron bands seized his chest. His breath came quickly and his vision tunneled. Calamity loomed, until he felt a solid hand rest on his cheek.
“I did not think such a thing was possible…” she whispered, her gaze locked to his.
Knox remained frozen for a moment longer, then reached a hand slowly toward Agasta. “I had not considered… did not imagine…” He straightened.
“My lady, congratulations are in order. You must be tired from your journey. We have made a place for you within the fort.” He stepped with alacrity to her side as she slipped her arm into his own. “Please, allow me to escort you to your room, where we may speak in private.”
Agasta took his arm in silence and they quietly made their way inland, following in the distant wake of Adolfo and Sirella’s practiced verbal sparring.
No sooner had the Captain and his wife departed than another reunion followed. Gurkha, her strong frame bowing he gangway, stepped to the top of the ramp with a gurgling bundle in her arms. “My lord,” she croaked, “your first surviving spawn arrives!”
With a bound, Battrachus launched to the deck of the Thresher and swept mother and child into his arms. Beaming, he hopped straight to the dock, raising his child for all to see.
“Behold!” he cried. “The survivor of the first brood. Slayer of…” He paused while Gurka whispered urgently into his ear. “Slayer of forty-three of his kin - fittest of them all!” He nuzzled the baby. “And the cutest, too!”
Battrachus puffed to his fullest girth. “He shall be named Battrachus… junior!”

Gosrin 28
More arrivals. Spellwake captained by Rosie Cusswell and Conchobar Shortstone puts in. They have not had a good tour. They bicker constantly.

Gosrin 29
To Houkna Bewul,

I am to be a father. I had thought my lady wife too old to bear, but her vitality astonishes. Is it mine? Most likely, but possibly not. Do I care? I find that I do not.
I have never taken a partner without their consent – would that surprise you? Would you find it weak? You took mother – she claims it was without permission, but I find her obsession smacks more of the jilted lover than the vengeful abused. Heavens help should she ever learn my suspicion.
Still, you should not have abandoned her. And me. Did you know? When I saw that bulge in Agasta’s belly, such a fear took me. I stared down the barrel of 20 years of fatherhood and found myself wanting – horribly so. Did you feel the same terror? Did you flee? I am not you. I won’t be you. Even if the child is not mine, they will still have a father in me – broken though I am. I swear it.
I will kill you. Someday. Not for what you did to mother but for what you did to me. I will do it clean – not how mother wants it. Someday soon, father. I am coming.
Sincerely,
Lawrence Horatio Knox

Knox finished the last letter. His teeth ground as the muscles of his jaw flexed. His hands shook as he folded and stuffed the paper into an envelope. His breath quickened and a slight groan escaped his lips.
He reached to his side and unsheathed a dagger, rolling up his sleeve. Knox let out a sigh as he sliced deeply across his forearm. With practiced care, he let the blood drip to the floor, avoiding his clothing. Another cut. Another sigh. The blood dripped and pooled.
Outside, the sounds of the party preparation drifted up to his room. The captain drank from a small potion bottle and wiped the blood from his forearm with a rag in easy reach. He knelt and scrubbed at the floor, erasing all evidence. The rag, he stuffed in a drawer alongside others. He rose and picked up the letter reverently. Walking to a small chest on his desk, he withdrew a key from around his neck, unlocked the chest, and placed the letter to his father alongside hundreds of envelopes. Paused. Looked. Closed the chest and locked it.
He rose. Slapped his checks a few times.
“Time to be the f&%@ing captain.” Knox left the room with swift strides.

The Lucky Draw put in just before sunset. Captain Tessa Fairwind greeted the Stormriders with enthusiasm - particularly when she learned that there was a rogue Cyclops fishing vessel somewhere nearby. With many promises to be back in time for the party, she set off to patrol for the unfortunate anglers.

Gosrin 30
“Who da f*&! are all dese visitors?” Knox strode across the docks, again, this time with Taur’Thalion at his side. “Oasis? You know her?” Taur shook his head in the negative. They both watched the ship trim sail cleanly as she arced in for a deepwater birth.
“Her Captain knows their business, though.” the northman spoke.
Knox nodded agreement. Oasis was an older ship, but she had clean lines and her wood bore the sheen of years of holystoning. An old lady, but a handsome one at that. A ship loved by her captain.
“Reginald Pettiford the Third, at your service.” A tall man with a trim black beard and ponytail made his bow as he stepped lightly to the docks. Knox returned the bow, as did Taur.
“Welcome Captain. And to what do we owe the honor of the visit?” Taur asked in his warm voice.
“Gifts!” Exclaimed Pettiford, as he gestured crew forward carrying a large chest. “I heard you had recently acquired cannon, and thought to presume you may not have laid in chain shot yet.”
In one stride, Knox closed the distance between them and seized the man’s hand in both of his. “Sir.” he beamed, “you have me at a disadvantage. You know us well enough to deliver the finest of gifts. Please, let us become acquainted.”
“By all means! First, some introductions.” Pettiford gestured to a dour looking man holding one side of the chest. “This is my first mate, Pierce, and” he nodded to the large man holding the other side, “Clancy, my boatswain.” Knox and Taur nodded to each.
Pierce, straining under the weight of the chest, mumbled “where is he? I don’t see him?”
“See who?” Knox elected to ignore this breach in precedence. Pettiford resumed with an apologetic look.
“Ah, yes, well… we had heard you had a crewmate named Adolfo..? The Great?”
…
“This is most odd, Captain.” Taur’Thalion remarked as they left The Oasis and returned to shore. “I have never heard mention of this ‘Frankie’ they speak of, but their descriptions of Adolfo are uncanny. They know him, Knox.”
The big half-orc nodded agreement. “That ship is well-loved, and her Captain seems fair-minded.” He carried the chest of chain shot under one arm. “They didn’t ask for nothin’ - just to see him.”
They continued to puzzle on, as they walked up to the fort.

Gosrin 31
Had Captain Reginald Pettiford the Third not seemed such an upstanding seaman, Knox wouldn’t have insisted on Adolfo meeting him.
Had Captain Vanthus Quinn not seemed such a colossal dick, Adolfo might not have insisted on his presence at that meeting.
But, they did, and thus Adolfo the Great had two meetings to attend while repairs and party preparations continued.
Captain Knox accompanied his Sergeant at Arms as they walked down the quay to The Oasis. Pettiford waited with his two companions. Adolfo’s pace slowed, the closer they got.
“Captain…” he said, “I do not know these gentlemen. I am certain they are of the nicest quality, but they are not known to The Great Adolfo.”
Knox nodded. “Let’s just have a word den.” He laid a hand on Adolfo’s shoulder, “you give me a nod, an I’ll send em to the auxiliary docks.”
The exchange was… odd. Pettiford seemed genuinely to care about Adolfo’s well-being, and did not press his case overly much, merely taking pleasure in hearing of Adolfo’s success and wishing him well. Knox invited the captain and his crew to stay for the party.
Adolfo, for his part, seemed distracted - uncharacteristically distant.
“Capitan, I must find Sandara and escort her to visit with her supposed brother.” Adolfo’s gaze grew intent. “He is a scoundrel.”
Knox nodded. “You won’t need backup, the way you fight, but, if you do - we’re here.”
Adolfo strode off without another word.
Knox continued to make the rounds of the party preparations. Construction on the Fort continued. The battery was laid, and collapsed walls and towers were rising higher every day under the supervision of Sushi and (usually) Adolfo. His ears perked up at the sounds of singing.
Around a bend in the beach was a small cove. Knox peeked around a bush. Taur’Thalion was at the center of a small group of crew from the Isendrek who were intently attempting four part harmony to one of the very most popular shanties, “Shallow Bottom”. Taur was in his element, hands raised, eyes alight - Knox could almost feel the magic… not arcane but deeper, more ancient. The magic of love, of craft, of companionship. The northman wove this magic with his presence, bolstering the crew with confidence and joy in their work. Their voices, hoarse from a life at sea, bound together like a hemp cord - rough, but deeply entwined. Strong.

Elara blesses fireworks.

Desnus 1
Socahtoa - a crustation - sees Pendast and asks if she can join the crew. Knox assesses her and agrees.

Phoebe Flynn was in her element. She darted with exuberant effervescence from one task to the next - straightening bowties, adjusting cumberbunds, enforcing her iron will over the murdered, raised, and enslaved prior inhabitants of the island. You know, cute stuff.
“Honey! Bend down here and let me adjust that.” she coddled one of the butler-skeletons, straightening his bowtie and patting him on his cheek - or, where said cheek would have been had this not been an animated corpse.
She nodded to herself. Things were coming along very nicely.

Desnus 10
Party! A lot of important stuff happens that involves lots of people that I will write about when I get the time. Skip forward to the fight on the ships.

“He’s here!” Knox bellowed, as he vaulted the rail of the Wavecrest. In a blur, he drew his bow and knocked two arrows. He peered over the far side of the ship where last he had seen the small saboteur.
Something tinkled like glass breaking, and an explosion rocked the Captain backward. Searing flame scorched his hair and skin, and the sweet reek of cooked flesh filled his nostrils.
“Over here!” Knox deftly drew a potion from his haversack and quaffed it. He snapped his fingers, and a single mirror image appeared next to him. His eyes scanned the quarterdeck. In the distance he could hear Batchrachus bellowing as he swam, and the cries of Phoebe as she landed on the foredeck and clanked forward.
A quiet glassy crunch, and his world was filled with fire again. Already opened wounds smoked and seared. His lungs burned. His vision began to blur.
He was nine and spat out a tooth. His cracked lip bled freely. His ribs ached from punches and kicks and his muscles shook with fatigue. Over him loomed the now thirteen-year-old boy who had become his nemesis. Knox rolled sideways and came drunkenly to his feet. Another blow caught him on the temple, and he staggered backward only to be caught by strong hands.
“F@#@ off, kid.” The pounding of footsteps faded as Knox tried to clear his head. His vision steadied and he looked up, fury written on his face.
“I had him, Hank.” Knox spat out a gob of phlegm and blood.
“No, Laurence. You didn’t.” The towering bouncer from the Thousand Kisses smiled grimly down. He laid a meaty hand on the half-orc’s shoulder. “You needed help.”
Knox shook his head furiously. “No!” he kicked at the dirt. “I have to do this myself.”
Hank knelt down to stare into the angry, swollen eyes of the nine-year-old boy. He placed his other hand on the other shoulder and held that stare. “You mam’s roight ‘bout a lot of things, Knoxy, but not this one.” He held the stare, and slowly drew the boy close into an embrace, holding him tight as he shuddered with sobs. “You listen good to old Hank for a moment. I ‘aint much for advice, but this is one your mam won’t give you.”
“You know why there’s so many bouncers at Thousand Kisses? It’s cause we don’t never know what’s coming any given day. And, yeah, there’s plenty I can handle on my own - but a smart man, Knox… “
“A smart man never fights alone.”
Phoebe’s words broke through the fog of pain, and the crisp sharp chill of her healing jolted Knox’s body as her magic filled him with life.
Battrachus landed ten feet away, his head darting from side to side seeking the hidden foe.
Adolfo’s voice, “Over there! My keenest of hearing has detected the sound of unscrupulous steps!”
Sushi from above, his words unleashing a glittery net that illuminated, at long last, their hidden opponent.
Taur’Thalion’s war chant filled Knox with new vitality, as the half-elf raced up the stairs to the quarterdeck, axe in hand.
Elara pointed at the sparkle-clad gnome and her gaze tore through his defenses, leaving him bare.
As one, they struck - lightning from above. Trident, arrows, rapier, axe, and fang from below. It was over in an instant.
Knox looked from one to the next, as Phoebe pushed more healing into his ragged body.
“Job well done.” he coughed. There was still smoke in his lungs.

Desnus 11
Captain Bloodmourne delivered the verdict. “You pass. We all agree.” She gave Knox a nod. “Whoever tried to f$#* things up last night mostly failed - and you covered well.” She gestured to Sorinash. “Your ship’s already looking better than she did yesterday.” Her gaze shifted out to the harbor, where dozens of crew swarmed the once-sabotaged galleon. She returned her attention to the Stormriders. “That’s what this is about, of course. Not some f~&#ing party in the middle of nowhere - but your ability to hold your own. Every one of these gets sabotaged by some f*!*er who don’t like the Captain who’s coming up.” She held out a hand to Knox.
“Congratulations Captain.” She drew herself close. “Now, your problems only get bigger.” She gave him a wicked grin; bowed to the Stormriders, and set off to her ship.
Sorinash gave a nod, still recovering from the night before. Mace embraced each officer in turn, with lavish praise for the food and spirits. And then they, too, were warping out of the harbor, headed where the winds took them.
It was done. It was theirs.
“Stormhaven.” Whispered Elara. She looked surprised - as if the word had come to her unexpectedly.
The others nodded. It fit. Even Stormriders needed a place to shelter from time to time.

Stormhaven - population 20; 1 settlement point

The other guests departed on their various vessels. Surprisingly, Sirella Knox was quiet - charming and proper, of course - but subdued as she boarded the Thresher. Knox had ordered some of the Isendrek crew to bolster Captain Quinn’s company. Her success had earned her a larger compliment.
So, too, had the Spellwake been given extra hands - the steadiest and most competent to be found - to offset the barely contained chaos engine that was the marriage clusterf&!% of Rosie and Conor. Knox sighed… one more chance for them.
Guka and Agasta both boarded the Spellwake, with gushing affection from the gathered crew and their respective partners.
Orders to Port Peril for Pirate’s Council on Desnus 17
The crew immediately set sail after re-allocating crew from the Isendrek to the Thresher, Spellwake and Jester’s Grin. They add undead crew to supplement the Isendrek.
Desnus 12
Run of the Fellhope Canyon.
Boggard Battle

Session 16 Summary!

April 12 2026

Gozren 23

“Oh wow, we really did luck out with this place!” Elara exclaimed as she took in the view from the tower. She ruffled the fur of Velmora’s nape as if she were coated in feathers and smiled wide. The docks were abuzz and the Isendrek had just pulled in and it was being relieved of it’s precious cargo – from up here it looked to be caskets of rum. She couldn’t wait to try it! Was that Avanor Soranash of Ollo inspecting the dock? Well he’s sure to be impressed. Then she glanced at the fort and was so proud of the new ramparts and buttresses designed by The Great Adolfo. Nothing was going to hurt us here. Cerise Bloodmourne of Quent was walking around the fort. She must feel so safe there. Elara finally turned around further and saw Sumitha. Mace Daramar, the mentee of the Master of Gales was watching as Knox directed carts and crew. The carts were wheeling around delivering foodstuffs and other goods that Sushi would use to create the most enchanting banquet. “Oh my! Is that a giant lobster I can see it from here!” Elara had to shout out loud and Velmora backed up and stared at Elara while tilting her head. Elara blinked slowly. All of a sudden the tower was crumbling, she was falling, “Velmora hold on!” “Come to me!” Elara was screaming and out of breath and opened her eyes. It was a dream?

She felt Velmora on her feet slowly breathing. She looked around. The island was still a disaster, the docks not yet fixed or ready for anything of imporantance to arrive, the fort still falling apart; Sumitha still mysterious and deserted covered in dust and moss… How are we going to do it? How are we going to get judged in 2 weeks and 3 days? Why doesn’t anyone else care about this? Elara got up and starting making noise. It was 1 AM and she knew 3 judges were on their way! Velmora arose and was following her around as she starting preparing some smoked salmon for all to eat. She “dropped” a pot and there was a loud bang. “Oh I’m so clumsy” she stated but the others were just barely starting to open their eyes. She took out the map she got from Bikendi – maybe this will get them going?! “Well, well lookie here, it’s only 5 miles away Southwest!” “What say you, girl?” shouted Taur’thalien. Elara explained and reminded that Bikendi’s treasure was simply 5 miles away in the SW direction and if we hit the right wind we could be there in less than 2 hours. “Well, what are we waiting for? Destiny awaits!” They were no good without a fight ahead of them – this would get them going and then they would hopefully have more plunder to use to fix up the Godforsaken Isle. Knox wanted to direct the clean-up on the Isle (Thank Milani…) and he stayed back with Adolfo, Phoebe, and Batricus. The smaller group agreed and set out on the Isendrek.

Indeed, they arrived at the spot marked on the map in 2 hours flat. Sushi took care of Taur’thalien and Elara with waterbreathing, barkskin, cold resistance, and something to help with swimming (tailcurrent). Elara felt almost indestructible. She looked at Velmora – she didn’t benefit from the barkskin but she was tough already so she would be fine. Velmora walked over and nudged Elara and she got some extra pets. They swam down and down. Then something appeared, it was getting larger and larger until right before Elara’s eyes was the largest shark-like creature she had ever seen. She looked around to make sure she could see Sushi – yes he was still himself - so this was indeed a vicious adversary. And vicious he was – Velmora was almost immediately grappled. Even Taurthalian’s savage strike removing a fin couldn’t stop it, and in the next 1/6th of an instant Velmora was swallowed whole! Elara gazed at the megalodon with an evil eye and sure enough the beast was now misfortuned. Elara also managed to encourage Velmora to try to escape and Velmora’s instincts, as usual, were spot on. She spitefully clawed her way through and burst out of the giant shark spewing guts into the ocean. Once she was out, and with the help of a smaller shark summoned by Sushi the team took out the megalodon and sent it back up to the Isendrek – this could feed the crew for days!

The group swam down not quite more than 100 feet and saw some rubble at the bottom. Elara realized it was the remains of a ship (Lady’s Kiss) and sent her Arcane Eye to investigate further. She saw a maze made from coral and ancient ruins after swimming through the decrepit ship. There were two feminine statues with something that looked valuable in their arms. Finally there were giant brass broken doors with just enough room for the eye to swim through. Elara could tell there was a very powerful magical symbol in front of the eye…then blackness… the vision was gone.

The team discussed all that Elara saw and decided to walk through the ship, tread carefully through the coral maze. “Ouch!” Elara was not that agile and got scratched by the coral. But it was worth it because in front of them was standing two giant statues of veiled women. They were quite a sight, and they each held a fist sized red gem! After some deliberation, the group decided they best try to rescue those gems – as it turned out when they looked closer they realized they were actually fire opals and worth 500 gp each! What kind of pirates would leave them sitting there?

Knowing there was a mystical magical powerful symbol nearby the team decided the best approach would be to avoid looking at it at all and they all averted their gaze while walking past. Unfortunately, the next room was even more treacherous as a sapphire jellyfish was waiting in the corner. Elara quickly aimed a lightening bolt at it, which did absolutely nothing! With Velmora at her side, she looked around at Sushi and Taur’thalien bewildered as the jellyfish moved closer. It reached for Velmora and Elara screamed “Nooooooo!!” In a flash Velmora was unconscious and covered in tentacles and Elara was looking frantically from Velmora to Sushi as he swam past her and followed Taur’thalien who had escaped to another room. Sushi and Taur called out to Elara – “Elara! You must come this way! You must leave Velmora!” This can’t be happening – she was just with her, “she was right here, she was just protecting me” Elara whispered to herself. She turned around and went down the tunnel which became a small chamber filled with stale air. She took off her Helmet of Underwater Action and liquid poured out as Elara sobbed.

Sushi quietly announced “This must be Bekendi’s treasure. There must be 15 plunder here.” as they looked over multiple treasure chests. Elara was in a daze as she watched them open the chests and peruse some of the items. “Was that an anchor made out of bones?”

In her fury and gloom she was just barely existing… she kept glancing back, but then Sushi used stone shape to block off the other room and she knew she couldn’t go back and began to weep. Sushi then opened a hole out to the ocean and Taur helped her get her helmet back on and pulled her up as they swam back up to the boat. They sent the crew back down to retrieve the rest of the treasure. And then they headed back to the Isle.

By 6 AM they were back at the island and there was a new face greeting them. It was Pierce Jerel. He was entirely too happy for this world, but he spoke to Elara with rapt attention and informed her of a boat carrying some stolen rum. “Well,” she thought “that sounds familiar…” she looked down to her side, where Velmora would be, but nothing was there. She tried to be more than a shell of a person and said “Oh rum, that will make for a good party, who do we have to kill to get it?” she was trying to joke, but it was no good. She was trying too hard, this was too hard, she wanted to go away and just look for Vance and go to Hyrantum and just run away from this place. But, she forced her eyes to move upward and met the gaze of Pierce who actually seemed concerned. “Well it’s a boat belonging to Fargo Vitterandi who is known to be a Chelliaxian spy…” Pierce listed “…and it’s headed to the Isle of Ramapore.” Elara took it all in – another journey, missing Velmora, “I must pray” she stated and walked away. Elara prayed and prayed, tears streaming down her face. She continued to pray, she thought of Velmora and how devoted she was, and she continued to pray. She became exhausted, but she kept praying and weeping and the thought of her pup kept her awake and kept her going. She knew she had to keep praying and hoping, and she did. After 24 hours she was exhausted, too exhausted to cry anymore, no tears would form. She finally slept. And when she woke she went to the shore and stared out. She sat on a rock and laid her head on her knees. All of a sudden there was a fluff of fur under her arm and a cool wet nose nudging her cheek. Elara looked up and looked at her new companion and a smile came to her lips. Velmora would never be forgotten, but Elara looked at Carolina and knew she was just as fierce. Together they walked to the group who was getting ready to disembark in search of the Jester’s Grin. Elara hopped on board with Carolina and introduced her to the bunch. Carolina didn’t leave her side and Elara felt herself starting to heal.

6 pm Gozren 26 – they set out for the Isle of Ramapore

Waiting a few miles off the coast of the Isle of Ramapore, sure enough, the Jester’s Grin started to approach. The Isendrek was ready.

It turned out that a skeletal anchor was found and attached to the Isendrek. The Isendrek now had a literal skeleton crew! “Igor the Eye” the lookout was spotting weaknesses and details to help the crew attack. All hands were on deck as the Isendrek loosed its cannon manned by the expert skeleton sailor “Gimbleshanks” and turret, manned by “Bombard” – they saw crew flying off of the Jester’s Grin and felt success was in their grasp..

Unfortunately, the Isendrek also received some hits from the Grin’s ballista and catapult. Also, it appeared that Fargo was using scrolls and all of a sudden there was a Fury on the Isendrek. The skeleton crew of the Isendrek was ready for battle though, and the team together with lightning and strategic attacks took it out. Then bearded devils appeared and another Fury, but the team took them out masterfully. Even Carolina got involved and intimidated the Fury.

The wind is quite important in these sea battles and for a few moments it seemed as if the whole ocean was perfectly still. Eventually, the wind did pick up again and the Isendrek was able to catch the Jester’s Grin and board. Fargo kept Sushi on his toes and the team could not figure out where he was. But once Sushi placed an orb near him which followed him around, which was entirely satisfying. Elara became beguiled and walked back to the bilge of the Isendrek. Of course Carolina followed her, but by the time they got there Elara woke up out of the haze and ran back to the other boat. There was an orc pirate on the Jester’s Grin that was giving the team a run for their money. Even after being blinded and knocked into the water, he managed to climb back up but together the team put him down for good. Finally, Sushi found the real Fargo up in the crow’s nest, of course! Sushi quietly used a wand of faerie fire and then Fargo was visible to all of them. After some fancy maneuvers and air walking up to him, Taur’thalien wasted no time in laying into Fargo. After a damaging double cut, Taur then made a precise attack of opportunity which was Fargo’s downfall. Finally, the group could taste the rum they were about to salvage!

Bookkeeping:

Crew after Jan session

Crew:
Aboard the Isendrek:
Knox
Elara
Pheobe
Sushi
Great Adolpho
Taur
Batrachus
Pemdas
barefoot samms toppin
fluhtred
claw
songer
baaka
ambrose kroop
breaker bones
randy dandy
guitard
giffer tibbs
badger medlar
crimson cog cogward
Stabsy Thistlewink
Red-itch rick
Nome de guere
Dad murderin-Jim
Baeg McBaeg
Captain Inspector Riggle Safety McGee
Karen Long
Iwaowy
Eileen Dexy
Yoshimi
Valen
Kurdin
Beautiful Brian
Tina Scrimshaw
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Port Peril 3
Ollo 1
Ollo 2
Ollo 3
Ollo 4
Ollo 5
Ollo 6
Ollo 7
Ollo 8
Ollo 9
Ollo 10
Ollo 11
Quent 1
Quent 2
Quent 3
Quent 4
Quent 5
Quent 6
Quent 7
Quent 8
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Port peril 3

Aboard the Thresher:
Sandra Quinn
Eli La Valette
David Faraget
Thresher 1
Thresher 2
Thresher 3
Thresher 4
Thresher 5
Thresher 6
Thresher 7
Thresher 8
Thresher 9
Thresher 10
Thresher 11
Thrsher 12
Thrsher 13
Thresher 14
Thrsher 15
Ollo 1
Ollo 2
Ollo 3
Ollo 4
Ollo 5
Quent 1
Quent 2
Quent 3
Quent 4
Quent 5
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Port Peril 3
Port Peril 4
Port Peril 5

Aboard Spellwake
Conchobar
Rosie
Master Destiny Force
Spellwake 1-30

Aboard Jester's Grin
Captain?
Jesters' Grin 1-20

At Tidewater Rock:
Owlbear Hartshorn
Gukka
Original Guard 1
Orginal Guard 2
Original Guard 3
Original Guard 4
Ollo 1
Ollo 2
Quent 1
Quent 2
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Royster McCleigh
Lady Agasta Smythee

Doing research in Port Peril:
Professor Buttcavage

Plunder (17 total)
9 - Isendrek
8 - Tidewater Rock
15 - Bikendi's Cave (Island of Empty Eyes)

Clocks
Desnus 6 (Blossom Moon)
Deadline for having Island of Empty Eyes party
Crowley Crab completes scouring
First day of 4718: Get a wish from Vailea

Party infamy after last session = 32

End of Session Bookkeeping...
Taur'Thalian Sigtrygrrson: L9 Half-elf skald (Dragon skald)
Sushi: L8 Tengu druid (shark-shaman) of Hei Feng
Batrachus: L1 Boggard brawler (wild child)/L7 Hunter
Elara Variel: L8 Human witch (fey-touched hexer)
The Great Adolfo: L8 Human swashbuckler (Inspired blade)
Lawrence "Hard" Knox: L8 Half-orc ranger (Divine tracker)
Phoebe Flynn: L8 Human cleric (Undead lord)

Session 15!

Gozreh 16

Phoebe wakes to the cloying smell of necromancy on the air, and fills her lungs with its richness. The Isle of Empty Eyes has guarded its secrets well over the years, but she will find them and use them to glorious purpose. Glorious and… oh! Hello Cyrus! Phoebe smiles at the huge cyclops being held captive by the party, and walks over to sit by him.

“What you want?” grunts Cyrus, as Phoebe’s skeleton parrot tries to sit on Cyrus’s shoulder. “Gah! Get off me dumb dead bird!” and he swats Kiwi away. The parrot goes flying, not by choice, and lands several yards away in a crumpled heap of bird bones.

“Kiwi, don’t you think Cyrus would look ravishing in a suit?” asks Phoebe, as she reaches down and gently restores necromantic vigor to the parrot, who hops back onto her shoulder and makes what might have been a response, but mostly comes out as a hiss.

“Yes, I think so, too. But it has to be just the right fit. Now if I could just measure…”

“OY! Cyrus! Let’s you and me have a bit of a talk.” Nox is all business as he walks over to Cyrus, and glances at Phoebe. “You think this one could be a good sailor?” Phoebe stares at Nox, eyes wide and says nothing.

Nox sighs at the lack of response. “Right then. Cyrus let’s talk options. You’ve got two.”

Later that day, the party heads into the jungle, Cyrus with his hands still bound, trudging alongside them, when they come across a very, very big problem. The immense brontosaurus blocking the way looks angry when it sees them, and immediately moves to attack. Battrachus and Eubels charge towards it, while Elara sends lightening through the air, and Nox lets his arrows fly. A huge bite from the massive beast drops Eubels, but with Taurthalian’s song urging them on, the party defeats the dino.

“What, you just leave?” demands Cyrus. “Let others take kill?” He spits. “Fools.”

“You have a good way to cook something that size, Cyrus?” asks Taurthalion.

“Well, since you ask…” Cyrus launches into a detailed explanation of the best cuts of brontosaurus meat, and honored cyclops family recipes.

The party arrives at the cyclops village, where Elara’s magic eyeball scouts the area, until meeting a sudden end. Entering a large room with columns and statues that animate, Eubels charges into the fray, followed closely by Velmora. Sushi casts winds to distract it, and Nox fires several arrows until Battrachus finishes it off.

Inside the next chamber, a central pavilion has steps leading up to it from four sides, but no visible doors. “Only by blinding yourself to the world around you can you see your way to the Eye of Serenity” reads Taurthalian. A quick blindfold test does not reveal anything further, so Phoebe casts blind on herself. The door to the chamber appears, and as Phoebe steps through, they can see the gem in the center, guarded by two cyclops mummies.

Velmora and Eubels charge into the room, and immediately the gem enervates Velmora. Phoebe, though unable to see, tries to command the undead, but they do not succumb to her will. The mummies breath out waves of blinding gas, but Taurthalion’s song reinvigorates the melee fights, and Battrachus lands a solid blow, while Eubels takes some solid chomps at this extra tasty (for a necrotarian) meal. Another breath cloud blinds Battracus, but he still manages to drop one after Velmora trips it. Sushi, Elara and Nox bring down the second mummy, all the while with the gem filling the room with negative energy.

“Open wide Mr. Crabs!” yells Phoebe, and before it can do any further damage, the undead crab swallows the gem.

The party continues to make its way through the village, exploring the ruins, with Cyrus providing reluctant but generally accurate information. They discover a treasure vault with several magical items, many of which were far too complex to be accurately identified by the party, and a map room with clay tablets from ages long past. Taurthalian learns that the stone was used by cyclops oracles, and that Sumitha was the name of the village.

As they move through an open area, the party suddenly comes under attack by several gargoyles. “Ooops, uh, forgot those were here!” yells Cyrus as he begins trying to remove his bindings.

With arrows raining down from all sides, Sushi creates a fog cloud to shield the party, and the gargoyles are forced into close range.

“Now is our chance!” whispers Phoebe, and Mr. Crabs moves to grapple Cyrus. As he tries to make his escape, the crab squeezes harder, and a few hits from the party kills him. Phoebe smiles.

After recovering from the gargoyle ambush, the only obstacle that remained is the great mother. As Eubels, Velmora, Brattachus and Mr. Crabs charged towards it, a single swing destroyed the undead crab, and the gem of revelation comes tumbling out of the smashed carapace.

In the ensuing chaos, Battrachus becomes grappled and the gem begins draining levels, but two big hits from Eubels and the great mother is killed.

“Oy, we’ve got to get that gem contained!” yells Nox. Phoebe sighs, and casts death ward on Nox, as Taurthalian’s song improves his chances to save, and he rushes to dive onto the gem with a handy haversack.

Staggering to his feet, Nox glances over at Phoebe “Perhaps we don’t use the dead crab for storing dangerous magical objects next time?”

Gozreh 17

The party plans to head to the towers the next day, and discusses the meaning of the cyclops maps and the tether of prophecy.

Cyrus, now a skeleton, stands in the center of camp, as Phoebe hovers around him, taking meticulous measurements of his arms, legs, waist and shoulders. Having removed her blindness from the battle yesterday, her next task was clear: cyclops skeleton butler.

Excerpts from the war journal of Eubels, Necrotarian, servant of Gogunta, companion to Battrachus

Gozreh 17

Woke up. Looked for corpses. Didn’t find anything. Pulled up grass, ate now dying vegetation.
Followed Battrachus to tower. One eyed giants on top of tower. Gate blocking access to tower. Smash through gate. Friendly singer fog clouds top of tower
Giant with milky eye squashes me
Grumpy ½ orc, Battrachus, and Tasty Bird I Am Not To Eat avenge my near death
Wolf and her elven pet stop another.
Someone heals me.
Me and Battrachus and Grumpy ½ orc kill giant. Praise Gogunta
Tasty Bird I Am Not To Eat puts giant in water bubble
Friendly singer kills one
Me and Battrachus and Tasty Bird I Am Not To Eat t kill last one
Wish Human Chef would animate one of these giants so I could eat it
Walk to large human pen
Everyone but me, Battrachus, and wolf try to climb gate tower, get hurt by falling masonry
Consider mating with wolf, but too hairy. Plus dating member of pirate council? Too complicated. And Battrachus say bad to date co-workers or he would make move on Wolf’s Elf Pet
Tasty Bird I Am Not To Eat turns into smaller, equally tasty bird to scout. Gets attacked by gross spider lady Paeta
Everyone rushes to save Tasty Bird I Am Not To Eat
Wolf’s Elf Pet begins angry diplomacy while Grumpy ½ orc begins reasonable intimidation
More spiders appear. Diplomacy continues when Grumpy ½ orc promises to muzzle Wolf’s Elf Pet
Agree to get shiny rock and bring to spider lady instead of some Captain Bikendi
Leave and go to tower
Battrachus points out that we may need this stone to stop ghost army haunting castle, and should betray gross spider lady Paeta. This is the way. Praise Gogunta

Gozreh 18

Woke up. Looked for corpses. Took bite out of giant but wasn’t right kind of dead. Pulled up grass, ate the now dying vegetation. Need to make sure Human Chef remembers to properly prepare one eyed giant
Travel back to large human pen
Buff O’clock, b*&@$es!
Gross spider lady Paeta appears and asks for stone. Bipeds have boring conversation about how to transport stone. Sniff wolf. Smells good, but fur gets in nostril.
Gross spider lady Paeta leaves. Buffs ticking down. This is an effective strategy. She must be master tactician
We decide to leave
Gross spiders attack while we leave

Bookkeeping:

Crew after Jan session

Crew:
Aboard the Isendrek:
Knox
Elara
Pheobe
Sushi
Great Adolpho
Taur
Batrachus
Pemdas
barefoot samms toppin
fluhtred
claw
songer
baaka
ambrose kroop
breaker bones
randy dandy
guitard
giffer tibbs
badger medlar
crimson cog cogward
Stabsy Thistlewink
Red-itch rick
Nome de guere
Dad murderin-Jim
Baeg McBaeg
Captain Inspector Riggle Safety McGee
Karen Long
Iwaowy
Eileen Dexy
Yoshimi
Valen
Kurdin
Beautiful Brian
Tina Scrimshaw
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Port Peril 3
Ollo 1
Ollo 2
Ollo 3
Ollo 4
Ollo 5
Ollo 6
Ollo 7
Ollo 8
Ollo 9
Ollo 10
Ollo 11
Quent 1
Quent 2
Quent 3
Quent 4
Quent 5
Quent 6
Quent 7
Quent 8
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Port peril 3

Aboard the Thresher:
Sandra Quinn
Eli La Valette
David Faraget
Thresher 1
Thresher 2
Thresher 3
Thresher 4
Thresher 5
Thresher 6
Thresher 7
Thresher 8
Thresher 9
Thresher 10
Thresher 11
Thrsher 12
Thrsher 13
Thresher 14
Thrsher 15
Ollo 1
Ollo 2
Ollo 3
Ollo 4
Ollo 5
Quent 1
Quent 2
Quent 3
Quent 4
Quent 5
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Port Peril 3
Port Peril 4
Port Peril 5

Aboard Spellwake
Conchobar
Rosie
Master Destiny Force
Spellwake 1-30

At Tidewater Rock:
Owlbear Hartshorn
Gukka
Original Guard 1
Orginal Guard 2
Original Guard 3
Original Guard 4
Ollo 1
Ollo 2
Quent 1
Quent 2
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Royster McCleigh
Lady Agasta Smythee

Doing research in Port Peril:
Professor Buttcavage

Current Date: Gozran 18, 4717

Plunder (17 total)
9 - Isendrek
8 - Tidewater Rock

Clocks
Desnus 6 (Blossom Moon)
Deadline for having Island of Empty Eyes party
Crowley Crab completes scouring
Professor Buttcavage complete research on 3rd piece of 3 Reasons to Live
First day of 4718: Get a wish from Vailea

Party infamy after last session = 32

End of Session Bookkeeping...
Taur'Thalian Sigtrygrrson: L7 Half-elf skald (Dragon skald)
Sushi: L8 Tengu druid (shark-shaman) of Hei Feng
Batrachus: L1 Boggard brawler (wild child)/L6 Hunter
Elara Variel: L8 Human witch (fey-touched hexer)
The Great Adolfo: L6 Human swashbuckler (Inspired blade)
Lawrence "Hard" Knox: L8 Half-orc ranger (Divine tracker)
Phoebe Flynn: L7 Human cleric (Undead lord)

Crew after Jan session

Crew:
Aboard the Isendrek:
Knox
Elara
Pheobe
Sushi
Great Adolpho
Taur
Batrachus
Pemdas
barefoot samms toppin
fluhtred
claw
songer
baaka
ambrose kroop
breaker bones
randy dandy
guitard
giffer tibbs
badger medlar
crimson cog cogward
Stabsy Thistlewink
Red-itch rick
Nome de guere
Dad murderin-Jim
Baeg McBaeg
Captain Inspector Riggle Safety McGee
Karen Long
Iwaowy
Eileen Dexy
Yoshimi
Valen
Kurdin
Beautiful Brian
Tina Scrimshaw
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Port Peril 3
Ollo 1
Ollo 2
Ollo 3
Ollo 4
Ollo 5
Ollo 6
Ollo 7
Ollo 8
Ollo 9
Ollo 10
Ollo 11
Quent 1
Quent 2
Quent 3
Quent 4
Quent 5
Quent 6
Quent 7
Quent 8
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Port peril 3

Aboard the Thresher:
Sandra Quinn
Eli La Valette
David Faraget
Thresher 1
Thresher 2
Thresher 3
Thresher 4
Thresher 5
Thresher 6
Thresher 7
Thresher 8
Thresher 9
Thresher 10
Thresher 11
Thrsher 12
Thrsher 13
Thresher 14
Thrsher 15
Ollo 1
Ollo 2
Ollo 3
Ollo 4
Ollo 5
Quent 1
Quent 2
Quent 3
Quent 4
Quent 5
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Port Peril 3
Port Peril 4
Port Peril 5

Aboard Spellwake
Conchobar
Rosie
Master Destiny Force
Spellwake 1-30

At Tidewater Rock:
Owlbear Hartshorn
Gukka
Original Guard 1
Orginal Guard 2
Original Guard 3
Original Guard 4
Ollo 1
Ollo 2
Quent 1
Quent 2
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Royster McCleigh
Lady Agasta Smythee

Doing research in Port Peril:
Professor Buttcavage

Session 14! The players go to Sumitha.

Beware the Isle, My Son

“You really cocked this one up, mate. The island isn’t supposed to stay untamed. And on top of that, you’re a sorry excuse for a druid.”

Sushiro Kezuka was sitting in a thatched wicker chair -- one of the first pieces of furniture he and Adolfo had built from some of the trees on the island -- overlooking the bay, surrounded by his friends and fellow officers of the Isendrek. Looking back on how they had begun to comb the island, it was true that nothing the crew of the Isendrek did was ever normal. And no individual in this crew fell into stereotype. Elara Variel, the fey-touched witch, did not just cackle and curse her foes. She wielded powerful arcane spells, and commanded a ferocious wolf; the delightful Velmara. The Great Adolfo wasn’t just a capable swordsman, but an accomplished engineer and polymath, who could brew up potions and extracts. He was a blowhard, but backed up every mote of hubris with concrete evidence of his acumen. Taur’thalian was no mere wardrummer, or seductive performer, but a warrior with a heart of gold, who surprised at every turn. His stories were legendary, while his legend only grew. Captain Knox, Bosun Phoebe Flynn, Batrachus the Devotee; they too followed their own hearts. Nothing for the crew of the Isendrek was predetermined.

So “Sushi” didn’t mind being undressed by the Master of Gales in front of everyone. He grew up an orphan, clinging to the first dogma that made sense to him. But with each petal of knowledge, he expanded his worldview. He didn’t only worship Hei Feng because his adopted father was a priest - he knew that the tempestuous nature of the Duke of Thunder was ameliorated by the liminal skies of Lady Jingxi. He didn’t curse the shark that took his leg and was the cause of his culinary sobriquet - he tried to understand the beasts of the sea instead. What was true, was that as he developed the powers gifted to him by these fates, he had no formal teacher. His only mentor was the mad samurai Nakano Takeko, who claimed to be from another planet. If he was going to be called a poor representation of druids, that made sense. Cook, carpenter, surgeon, friend: all of these were roles he might claim before druid.

The Master of Gales continued. “After you left the Free Captain’s Regatta, where did the Isendrek sail?”

“The skies were calm as we headed southwest towards the Isle of Empty Eyes. We had over a hundred miles to sail. I was helping The Great Adolfo shore up some of the hull damage we had sustained during the regatta when Elara spotted the enemy vessel on Gozran 10.”

“The Spellwake? Captain Elgil Mariss’ ship.”

The crew ran to combat stations as the Spellwake sailed towards the Isendrek. It was a suicide mission. We had our cannons loaded on both sides of the ship and our catapult ready in the turret. The wind slowed down and our ship outmaneuvered her easily. Elara piloted and turned the Isendrek like a vorpal snake, hard-a-lee and ready to blast the Wake. Adolfo primed the cannons with his signature hello and we fired. Massive damage from the weapons. Sushi yelled to reload the cannon, and ran across to port to prepare for the next volley. Taur’thalian kept the crew steady as we fired again. The Isendrek sustained some heavy damage, but the final cannon shot signaled the end of the Spellwake. She was already sinking when the last cannonball tore through her abdomen. Adolfo sprang into action and jumped across to the Spellwake, commanding the crew to fix their own ship. The first mate, Master Destiny Force, handed over his own captain almost immediately. We clasped Mariss in chains and took his gear. Conchobar Shortstone and Rosie Cuswell were named co-captains of the Spellwake, with Master Destiny Force keeping his role as First Mate. The Spellwake followed the Isendrek to the Island of Empty Eyes with its new captains as part of our fleet.

“And when did you get to the island?”

“Gozran 12, of course.”

Sushi was almost ready to jump off the ship and get going on the island when they first saw its beautiful bay. However, acting Captain Taur’thalian thought it was more prudent to circumnavigate the island. Elara piloted the Isendrek beautifully around the island in less than a few hours, and we confirmed some of what our knowledge told us: cyclopes inhabited structures on the butte in the northwest; a large fort was present on the west, overlooking the bay; giant droppings indicated the presence of a gargantuan beast somewhere on the island; but additionally, we could hear the singing of a beautiful female voice. What we did not confirm was the exact presence of the cyclopean retreat of Sumitha, where seers of the Ghol-Ghan empire once retreated to use a relic called the lens of revelation. Nor did we exactly confirm that the old Chelaxian fort contained ghosts or undead, as the lore described. Nor did we find the presence of any other recent pirate expeditions.

Elara recommended we take the two ships’ boats for our own use while on the island, and Sushi, Elara, Adolfo and Taur’thalian made landfall on the northeastern shores of the island. The Isendrek and Spellwake sailed south to give our crew their promised shore leave. The four officers traipsed across the sandy plains of the northeast corner of the island, shadowed by the steppes to the northwest. The largest dune hill in the center of this section was hidden from view, and from our initial expedition we had two leads. One; cyclopes tracks heading northwest to the stairs of the plateau, and two; long root-like treads gimbling up the hill southwest, that appeared to belong to a treant. It seemed to the party that a treant ally might be helpful if we were to take on the cyclopes, so we headed up the sandy dune.

At the top of the hill, the mimsy haze of moist island air gave way to a drier, and more pleasant smelling aroma. In a copse of palm trees we spied the owner of the root-like tracks. A treant in the shape of a palm tree. He was an angry palm tree. Adolfo tried to talk sense to him, and then Elara, and then Taur began to sing and prepare us for the inevitable battle. Sushi tried to talk sense into the tree as well. Eventually our diplomatic efforts turned into threats. After all, the palm trees were potential fodder for our frabjous fortifications.

“We spent almost half of a minute trying to placate the treant. I refused to give in even after he threw a coconut at my head. Thankfully it bounced off my fin skin.” Sushi’s beak curled up at the ends.

“Just continue, please.” The Master of Gales galumphed.

The treant had entangled Elara and Taur’thalian against palm trees in the glade, and Elara sneered at the beastly tree-man and shot a lightning bolt right through the growth, still avoiding damaging the creature itself. It only roared more vigorously at this, but she was free. Velmara was the first to run in and attack the thing, with The Great Adolfo just behind. As they began to slash and poke the creature, Taur broke free and ran into the fray as well, his haste spell making us all more dangerous. Sushi called down bolts and Elara cast lightning through the treant as well. Wasps began to swarm out of holes in the treant, but the lightning spells and Adolfo’s flaming alchemist’s fires put a quick end to them.

In about as much time as it took to engage the treant diplomatically, it had fallen. We explored the remainder of this hilly dune, but the siren’s call of the female voice beckoned us further south in the hilly dunes. We left the hilltop which would forever be known as Thunderhill, and headed south to what Sushi assumed was the party’s immediate end.

Instead, we were greeted calmly by Sirella, a nereid. She spoke with all of us, but was especially enamored by Taur’thalian and Adolfo. She inhabited a small glade with a pool, and we sat in her wabe for a while. She remembered us from months ago, when we crossed her path in the southeastern portion of the shackles. Taur’thalian and Sirella laughed about their almost-tryst, and we spoke for a long time, telling her stories for which she had a frumious appetite. She told us of the undead in the fort, and she invited us to make camp near her. That evening she used clairvoyance spells so that we could watch a play together that was taking place in Little Oppara, and then she spied on various noble estates and rooms, asking us how we would decorate various dwellings. She had all the makings of a pleasant ally, as we stared into her calm watery divinations. We slept soundly that night, even though Sushi felt a little on guard at first. Truly, his grasp of druidism never touched so much on fey and the First World, of which some druids seem to have a preternatural knowledge.

We woke up late the next day on Gozran 13. Our movement today was much slower. We began to climb the giant steps leading up to the plateau and the forested heights of the butte. Sushi removed Adolfo’s fatigue with a lesser restoration scroll, and we wandered around the plateau for a bit before nightfall came again. We would have to make camp before we continued, and we had also seen and heard pteranodons nearby. The party thought we might be able to converse if Sushi prepared his animal magics. It made sense to camp here in the forest. We were sleeping soundly when Taur woke us up with a fright. He was taking the middle watch during our excursion, and was the only one alone during these watches. Sushi at least had the company of Velmara, while Elara and Adolfo had the morning watch together. Taur alerted us to the presence of a gargantuan frog, burbling through the woods. It nearly killed Adolfo and Taur’thalian in a single strike, as we tried to make some headway against the beast. It seemed like things would end badly, so Sushi cast obscuring mist to hide us in darkness. Eventually, the beast gave up and in a single, whiffling leap, it disappeared back into the woods.

On the morning of Gozran 14 we broke camp and headed west towards the large pteranodon nest. We knew they would take affront to an aerial entrance, so Elara and Sushi made sure they climbed up each harrowing step even though it would be easier to fly or air walk at this point. From a few steps below the nest, Sushi cast speak with animals and begged to entreat with the majestic beasts. They were willing to listen to our promise of bringing them food, specifically cyclopes, in exchange for an alliance. They requested two tons of fish in addition to three cyclopes bodies, and they gave us a lot of information about the island. They confirmed that the gargantuan frog was not also the giant dinosaur we had heard about, and they informed us that the “Longneck” lived in the southwest corner of the island, down from the plateau and south of the Chelish fort. They confirmed the presence of a town of Cyclopes, and the undead living at the fort. They also carved out a crude map of the entire island that we were able to transcribe. We thanked the pteranodons and headed west to the cyclopes village.

We arrived at the outskirts of the cyclopes habitat, marked by more large statues, along a great stone bridge. The fiery gems in their eyes, and the carvings along the bridge indicate that we had reached the entrance of Sumitha, a place where the cyclopes were to come for enlightenment, and were supposed to announce themselves before entering. The carvings indicated a “colorful” history between cyclopes and man, which did not shake Sushi, but he could tell that the humans in the party were made wary. Adolfo was able to steal the bright, brillig gemstones, and we continued quietly into their village. He also was able to parse out some of the cyclopean language, which hinted that Sumitha means “see my truth.” At the entrance to the village, we were attacked by cyclopes guards, which we put down very quickly, with only one or two of them using their ability to glimpse the future and guarantee hits on us. Velmara, Adolfo and Taur ran into the fray while Elara stayed back blasting lightning bolts and hexing the manxome foes. Sushi walked through the air onto the black ruinous columns and stayed afloat as we explored.

The center of the village housed a fountain surrounded by stadium seating. Before we got to the fountain, we noticed a strange phenomenon. Ants on the ground would line up and seemingly avoid an invisible force. The drops of water from the fountain did the same thing. Even our party was forced into a line as we approached the fountain. Further investigation yielded no results or additional understanding, but it was vexing. At the lip of the fountain, a marid - a genie-like creature from the Plane of Water - rose up and introduced herself as Vaiela. She said she had been trapped and bound to the fountain for at least a thousand years by the cyclopes, and asked us to use her ability to wish for her freedom. Adolfo felt for this poor planar scion, and agreed quickly, and I think we all wanted to believe her. They gave us more information on the cursed relic known as the Lens of Revelation stored within the mountain refuge of Sumitha, called the Eye of Serenity. She also told us of the father and daughter who are leaders here. We entered the cyclopes hall to the south, adjacent to the mountain, and four more cyclopes guards attacked. At the main door, we slowly fought them, as another obscuring mist helped in keeping them from seeing us, along with Elara’s misfortune hex. Taur’thalian and Adolfo bravely fought in melee combat with the cyclopes, with Velmara guarding us all. After the fight in the hall, we decided not to continue into the mountain stronghold, but clear out one more outbuilding. We chose the dining hall, and again fought cyclopes. An aqueous orb spell from Sushi kept one of the cyclopes out of the fight for a bit while Elara’s lightning bolt spells once again did massive damage to the foes. Taur’thalian’s singing and haste spells along with Adolfo’s parries, kept us in the fight against the opalescent, milky glares of our one-eyed enemies.

The Master of Gales stopped Sushi. “And what about this? How did this happen?” He pointed at our large new recruit, wearing a ceremonial eye patch over his only eye.

“Oh you are talking about Cyrus! He is one of the newest members of our crew.” Sushi was glad to point out the recruiting efforts of Taur’thalian.

The nonlethal damage from the aqueous orb afforded us the ability to capture or speak with two of the cyclopes guards in the dining hall. Taur’thalian wanted to pressgang one of them into our service. The cyclops was upset, but we healed him up and we were able to impress upon him his situation. Taur’thalian promised that it would get better for him if he joined the crew of the Isendrek, even though we had killed all of his friends, and his old boss was kind of nice, and would never kill all of his friends. Sushi used one of his ant haul scrolls on Velmara and he and Adolfo put together a sled from some of the trees in the outskirts of the village.

“So you and your crew chopped down trees and made a cart. You’re more draftsman than druid, Kezuka.” The Master of Gales leered.

“The natural world also uses the tools afforded to it,” Sushi grew quieter, but continued with the tale.

With that set-up we were able to make good on our promise to feed the pteranodons. In exchange, they let us search their nest and we found a magic ring. That night we headed back through the tulgey wood to Sirella’s oasis. Cyrus and Sirella agreed to a tense truce, and he said he would stay in her glade.

On the morning of Gozran 15, we headed back to Sumitha. This time cyclopes on the terraced entrance to the mountain abode slammed us with crossbow bolts as we entered the village. The doors to the guard post to the southwest of the village flew open, and another two cyclopes appeared. We now had a fight on two fronts as Velmara ran headlong a hundred feet towards the terrace, leaving the rest of us adjacent to the guard post. Elara was able to defend Velmara with some lightning bolts while Sushi tried to help with an aqueous orb inside the guard post, as well as bolts of lightning from his called storm. The milky eyes of the cyclopes nearly killed Velmara, but Taur’thalian and Adolfo were able to handle the guards and the daughter cyclops. Sushi airwalked with haste towards Velmara and was able to heal them before they died. By the end of it we were all adjacent to the terrace as the last cyclops fled into the mountain. Elara ran after him into the dark chamber to finish him off, and came face to face with the huge leader of Sumitha. She ran back out and we quickly healed as we could hear healing magic being cast from within the cave.

We buffed back up and prepared to take on Ishtoreth, leader of Sumitha. His cyclops guard came out, and Adolfo and Taur stabbed him from their hiding places, and we were able to finish him off with lightning from the skies, but Ishtoreth remained in the cavern. We entered and fought in the dark with only a faint light spell illuminating the mad leader. Velmara nearly died, Adolfo was down, but in this war of attrition and milky eyes, we only needed to deal a little more damage. A stone call targeting just the leader on the edge, an aggressive thundercloud, and one last lightning bolt from Elara took him down. We retreated back to Sirella’s oasis to rest.

“And what of the relic? The lens of revelation?” The Master of Gales asked incredulously.

“We chose what made sense at the time I suppose.” Sushi replied.

From his seat in the wicker chair, Sushi could feel the cool, slithy night air bringing in storm clouds. From behind him he could feel hot air rush out of Cyrus’ gaping mouth, as he chortled louder and louder, his neck angled back, laughing into the darkening dusk. Sushiro Kezuka said nothing to the Master of Gales, as his eyes widened, his mouth parting and unable to vocalize, and realization washed over him. This conversation, the comfortable wicker chair, the laughter of the crew, and the Free Captains inspecting our island; all faded into the background.

Sushi awoke on the morning of Gozran 16, lying next to Sirella’s pool. Nothing in the life of the crew of the Isendrek was predetermined, but the magic of the fey, something he barely understood, had gotten the better of him. He rose slowly and prepared for another day on the Island of Empty Eyes. The crew of the Isendrek had less than a month remaining to make this place their new home.

End of Session Bookkeeping...
Taur'Thalian Sigtrygrrson: L7 Half-elf skald (Dragon skald)
Sushi: L8 Tengu druid (shark-shaman) of Hei Feng
Batrachus: L1 Boggard brawler (wild child)/L6 Hunter
Elara Variel: L7 Human witch (fey-touched hexer)
The Great Adolfo: L6 Human swashbuckler (Inspired blade)
Lawrence "Hard" Knox: L6 Half-orc ranger (Divine tracker)
Phoebe Flynn: L7 Human cleric (Undead lord)

Plunder (20 total)
8 - Isendrek
8 - Tidewater Rock
3 - The Lucky Draw

Clocks
Desnus 6 (Blossom Moon)
Deadline for having Island of Empty Eyes party
Crowley Crab completes scouring
Professor Buttcavage complete research on 3rd piece of 3 Reasons to Live
First day of 4718: Get a wish from Vailea

Party infamy after last session = 32

End of Session Bookkeeping...
Taur'Thalian Sigtrygrrson: L7 Half-elf skald (Dragon skald)
Sushi: L8 Tengu druid (shark-shaman) of Hei Feng
Batrachus: L1 Boggard brawler (wild child)/L6 Hunter
Elara Variel: L8 Human witch (fey-touched hexer)
The Great Adolfo: L6 Human swashbuckler (Inspired blade)
Lawrence "Hard" Knox: L6 Half-orc ranger (Divine tracker)
Phoebe Flynn: L7 Human cleric (Undead lord)

On p37 it says that smashing the gem releases any souls trapped inside. I understand this is one of the two ways to permanently destroy Bikendi's ghost, and it might be necessary to return a PC to life if his soul was trapped by the gem.

Are there any other in-game consequences to this step, beyond the visual?

Party infamy after last session = 32

Sent my players this post-session. They refused...

Captain Knox pulled his chair out with his right foot, while balancing on his left, with his hands tied up holding food and drink. In his right hand he held a plate piled high with two of his favorites: rum battered eel bites and fried grog balls. In his left he held a large mug of ale, magically cooled to the perfect temperature. He sat on the rattan chair among a table claimed by his officers who moved behind him through the buffet, with the crew of the Isendrek not far.

Knox ran on adrenaline and joy from just winning the Free Captains Regatta, and with it a seat on the Pirate Council and a deed to his own island in the Shackles. The Island of Empty Eyes. His bones ached from the grueling 31-hour race through the maelstrom, but he didn't want to miss this moment of celebration with the crew, nor the excellent food and drink served at this party on Coaming Point. The persistent drizzle of the island didn't dampen the Isendrek's spirits, as the crew enjoyed special privileges under a thatched roof with plenty of dry seating for the full crew of any competing vessel.

Knox took a bite, and another bite, and a long swig of the crisp ale. With his mouth still full, out of the corner of his eye he noticed a man approaching him with purpose. The man wore a black cloak that shielded his face from view - not unusual in the foul weather. The man hunched slightly, but Knox took in his size, likely nearly as tall as Knox when both rise to full height, and Knox thought he recognized the gait. The man got within a few strides and pulled back his hood enough for Knox to see his face: Captain Barnabas Harrigan.

Barnabas Harrigan, always a bit of an outcast among the pirates, had evolved to full pariah status after cheating during the Regatta. He stood face to face with Knox, only an inch shorter than the large half-orc. For a long pause the two proud captains stared at one another in silence. Harrigan balled his fist and went to punch Knox in the gut, but pulled short, in an effort to get the half-orc to flinch. The half-orc did not flinch and never broke eye contact with his former captain.

"You brave. I could always tell," Barnabas began, in his thick Osirion accent. "I come congratulate ye on de win Captain Knox." Harrigan put his hand out to shake and, after a brief pause by Knox, the two captain's met hands at the forearm in a manly shake. Harrigan took a long look at the broken silver shackle on Knox's wrist, the trophy that accompanied his new political title and land grant.

At this moment, Battrachus, who went through the buffet just behind Knox, came over with one plate in two hands. Battrachus's plate stood as an engineering marvel. He constructed a tower of Jungle Smoke Kebab (which definitely didn't include monkey meat according to the sign) atop his plate, but he left a hole in the center that now supported a bowl of Barrel Bottom Chowder in the center of the kebab matrix. When Battrachus caught sight of Harrigan and Knox standing face-to-face, he quickly put his plate down and stood next to his captain.

"And you, officer Battrachus. I remember dee day we took The Man's Promise and you warn me of knife at my back," Harrigan said, nodding to Battrachus, and then expanding his gaze to include both the boggard and the half-orc. After this short minute of small talk, Harrigan continued into a speech he'd clearly rehearsed. "I didn't just come for pleasantry. I came to make you great offer."

"I enter race when heard dee prize Island of Empty Eyes. I care not for council seat. With my business skills, piratical skills. and that location near shipping lanes, I make very profit. Give me the deed to the Island. I transfer 3 plunders to your hold now. I give you 3 more plunders in 3 months' time, after I set up my situation. Then I give you one silver piece on every gold piece for next 5 years. With this much money you could buy council seat. You could buy two council seats. Or you could buy a fleet if that your fancy. What do you say? My ship leaves on the wind tomorrow morning, and I need answer tonight."

End of Session Bookkeeping...
Taur'Thalian Sigtrygrrson: L7 Half-elf skald (Dragon skald)
Sushi: L8 Tengu druid (shark-shaman) of Hei Feng
Batrachus: L1 Boggard brawler (wild child)/L6 Hunter
Elara Variel: L7 Human witch (fey-touched hexer)
The Great Adolfo: L6 Human swashbuckler (Inspired blade)
Lawrence "Hard" Knox: L6 Half-orc ranger (Divine tracker)
Phoebe Flynn: L7 Human cleric (Undead lord)

Plunder (20 total)
8 - Isendrek
8 - Tidewater Rock
4 - The Lucky Draw

Clocks
Desnus 6 (Blossom Moon)
Deadline for having Island of Empty Eyes party
Crowley Crab completes scouring
Professor Buttcavage complete research on 3rd piece of 3 Reasons to Live

Crew:
Aboard the Isendrek:
Knox
Elara
Pheobe
Sushi
Great Adolpho
Taur
Batrachus
Pemdas
rosie cuswell
barefoot samms toppin
fluhtred
claw
songer
baaka
ambrose kroop
breaker bones
conchobhar turlach shortstone
randy dandy
guitard
giffer tibbs
badger medlar
crimson cog cogward
Stabsy Thistlewink
Red-itch rick
Nome de guere
Dad murderin-Jim
Baeg McBaeg
Captain Inspector Riggle Safety McGee
Karen Long
Iwaowy
Eileen Dexy
Yoshimi
Valen
Kurdin
Beautiful Brian
Tina Scrimshaw
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Port Peril 3
Ollo 1
Ollo 2
Ollo 3
Ollo 4
Ollo 5
Ollo 6
Ollo 7
Ollo 8
Ollo 9
Ollo 10
Ollo 11
Quent 1
Quent 2
Quent 3
Quent 4
Quent 5
Quent 6
Quent 7
Quent 8
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Port peril 3

Aboard the Thresher:
Sandra Quinn
Eli La Valette
David Faraget
Thresher 1
Thresher 2
Thresher 3
Thresher 4
Thresher 5
Thresher 6
Thresher 7
Thresher 8
Thresher 9
Thresher 10
Thresher 11
Thrsher 12
Thrsher 13
Thresher 14
Thrsher 15
Ollo 1
Ollo 2
Ollo 3
Ollo 4
Ollo 5
Quent 1
Quent 2
Quent 3
Quent 4
Quent 5
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Port Peril 3
Port Peril 4
Port Peril 5

At Tidewater Rock:
Owlbear Hartshorn
Gukka
Original Guard 1
Orginal Guard 2
Original Guard 3
Original Guard 4
Ollo 1
Ollo 2
Quent 1
Quent 2
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Royster McCleigh
Lady Agasta Smythee

Doing research in Port Peril:
Professor Buttcavage

Session 13 Summary - the Conclusion of Tempest Rising!

From the Journal of Taur’thalian, Free Captain of the Isendrek
Pharast 26th
I remember the dusk sky that night — Port Peril half-shadowed and half-lit, dangerous as a loaded crossbow and twice as beautiful. The city looked like it always does when blood and destiny are in the air. We were close then. Close enough to smell the finish, like stormwind before the squall breaks.
Our hunt for the Chelaxian Spies had dragged us into the market district, to a boarded-up three-story heap with a sign creaking on rusted chains:
The Jasper Leaf Apothecary.
Elara studied the scrap of paper we’d pulled from the dead assassin. Her eyes paused on the mark at the bottom.
“Z.”
We’d been chasing clues like bog lights through the Sodden Lands, and Batrachus’s wide, hungry grin told me the wind was shifting toward violence.
Elara, Phoebe, and I knocked. A small, sour-faced man with a high ponytail and a goatee cracked the door.
“Closed!” he snapped, already trying to shut it.
“Sir,” I said smoothly, “we’re looking to purchase three jugs of terap sap.”
His scowl melted like butter in a Chelish sun. He beckoned us in — only us.
“You don’t need an army to buy sap.”
We shared a glance at our more… bestial companions outside.
“We’ll be right back, love,” Elara said, mostly to Velmora.
Inside, I whispered the words of glibness and let the face of the Isendrek do the talking. We bluffed our way through an uncomfortable conversation with the apothecary’s mistress — Zarskia Galeabar. There was our “Z.”
One thing stuck in my gut like bad rum: Zarskia truly didn’t seem to know she’d been helping Cheliax. She did know this — Hayden Pyle, sailing under Nidal’s flag, had ordered the poison. And now she planned to flee Port Peril for Nidal herself.
Useful.
Maybe not complete.
Once outside, the officers shared a look. Talking time was done.
We split into assault teams. Elara opened the dance by dropping alchemist’s fire down the chimney, then regrouped with Sushi and me for the second-floor entry.
When the flames burst below, Sushi and I smashed through a boarded window and met nightmare made flesh — a catlike beast writhing with serpent tentacles. Zarskia followed, shouting its name — Shimarea — and began hurling fire bombs with the skill of a Hellknight siege engineer.
Sushi called the stone to life with Earthcall, choking the room with rubble and buying us a breath. Zarskia showed no such mercy. Fire after fire blossomed. I went down. Elara went down. Sushi barely escaped with his feathers.
Downstairs, the rest of our crew proved why the Shackles whisper our name. Batrachus and Eubels, Phoebe’s undead crustaceans, and Velmora hit the guards like a hurricane. Batrachus reached the second floor just in time to see me fall and hurled himself at Zarskia, running her through while Eubels crushed Shimarea beneath bone and claw.
Too late.
The room burned — and Elara lay in the flames.
Phoebe sent healing waves across the wreckage, knitting my wounds, but Elara… the sea had already marked her. We salvaged what documents we could and smothered the fire. Victory tasted like ash and cinders.
Later, Sushi found a scroll of Raise Dead. Besmara’s mercy still walks with us.
When we reported to Tessa Fairwind, she listened like a queen of storms, rewarded us with three plunder, and ordered us to reach Cauldron’s Rock by Gozreh 5 for the Regatta. Then she kissed my cheek, and for a moment even the Hurricane King’s throne seemed small by comparison.
I remember thinking something about Zarskia still didn’t sit right. I also remember forgetting it entirely after that peck on the cheek.

Pharast 27th
We set sail for Crowley’s Crab.
Using an old map and the shape of the coastline, Sushi and Batrachus guided us while Elara and I charted the final approach. When we arrived, there was nothing but open water. We dove. At first, no bottom — then the mouth of the trench yawned below us, and we plunged deeper still.
The pressure was crushing. At last we reached a living mound of crustaceans swarming over a buried crablike apparatus. The seabed writhed with them. They kept coming faster than we could kill them, and we realized our mistake — we had to dig, not fight.
Then my father’s voice filled my mind. Warning and promise tangled together.
Something vast was coming.
We dug faster as its shadow grew.
The moment the device broke free, a gargantuan linnorm arrived. Sushi pulled the lever and the machine rose — but Elara was out of reach. I remember thinking that was it. The beast would devour her in that trench.
Then Batrachus opened his great maw and his tongue lashed out, wrapping her arm and shoulder. The mechanism hauled us upward, ripping her from the rubble. We burst to the surface just ahead of death itself.
We boarded the Isendrek with the crab machine and fled. I marked the location on my charts.
Some places are meant to be found again.
Pharast 30th
At the second site of the Three Reasons to Live, the sea itself seemed determined to test our resolve.
This was the second piece.
The first we had recovered at Kraken’s Cove, where the waves whispered secrets and the dead refused to stay silent.
This place was different — a jagged natural arch of stone rising from the surf like the rib of some ancient sea-god’s corpse. The water crashed and boiled beneath it, making approach treacherous. Even a seasoned helmsman would think twice before threading that needle.
At the apex of the arch, something dangled.
A body.
Elara flew without hesitation. The wind snapped her cloak as she reached the corpse and tore free the false leg. Inside, hidden with a smuggler’s care, lay the fragment of the legendary instrument — cold, ancient, humming with purpose.
The second Reason to Live was ours.
The sea did not approve.
The arch groaned. The wind shifted. The Shackles exhaled.
But we had what we came for.
Gozran 6th — Cauldron’s Rock
Sushi made an offering to Gozreh, asking the god of wind and sea for favor. Thoughtful. I hope it works.
Elara was approached twice within minutes. First by a servant of the alghollthu — bearing a necklace. She took the gift and frightened him half to death. Second by Pierce Jurel of Darcy’s Pillage, who removed his eyepatch and produced a crystal from the socket — a powerful charm of luck and skill.
Croup spotted Houkna Bewul of the Black Dragon — Captain Knox’s face if you stripped the handsome away and stomped on it a few times. Without a doubt: Knox’s father. I avoided him.
With thunder and lightning, the Master of Gales arrived — five-time champion. When he speaks, even storms listen. He announced the prize: a seat on the Council and the Isle of Empty Eyes. Power and land. Destiny.
Later, we crossed paths with Captain Barnabas Harrigan and his weasel. He stared at the Isendrek like a man remembering the one that got away. We traded words sharp as cutlasses.
I’d wager my last gold he was plotting.
Gozran 7th - Glory
“Another Round!”
The crew of the Isendrek buzzed with the glory of the Regatta. They earned it. We pressed them hard, took chances, and they paid off. Batrachus promised even greater spoils once the festivities ended.
The makeshift tavern sprawled across the grass — barrels, tables, canvas snapping overhead. The air swam with incense, tobacco, exotic drink, and laughter.
Sushi sipped his precious tawny port. His beak smirked though he would deny it.
And at my side — by Besmara — sat Tessa Fairwind, Mistress of Quent.
I told her the tale.
I told her how Elara first took the helm as the race began, her hands steady as a priestess’s prayer, reading the wind like scripture. How she threaded the Isendrek through the opening chaos of the fleet, slipping between hulls and sails so close I could hear other captains swearing our name.
I told her how we reached the shoals and chose not to go around — how real sailors do not ask the sea for permission. Sushi leapt overboard without a word and became a shark beneath the waves, scouting the reef’s teeth from below while Phoebe relayed his signals from the crow’s nest, her voice cutting clean through the wind. Batrachus and I shouted the orders, Elara dancing the wheel between them, the Isendrek moving as if she herself had learned to breathe.
I told her how the sky darkened and the sea split open.
How Hirgenzosk, the dragon turtle, erupted from the depths just as lightning split the heavens, steam rolling from its shell and jaws like the breath of a newborn god. How it tore through a Chelish galley beside us, mast, men, and prayers vanishing into the foam. How we tried to outrun it, the Isendrek screaming under full sail, and how the monster surged beneath us, lifting the sea itself.
I told her how the deck turned into a battlefield of fire and boiling water. How crew were flung across planks. How Batrachus roared his orders and brought the cannons to bear while the beast’s breath scalded the air. How the first volley drove Hirgenzosk under, and how I dared to hope — and how hope proved a liar when the beast rose again beneath us, lifting the Isendrek toward the sky.
How Elara lost the wheel.
How we locked eyes across the deck.
How I poured every scrap of arcane breath I had into her and she seized the helm again and forced the ship upright by will alone.
I told her how the second volley finally drove Hirgenzosk away, wounded and furious, seeking easier prey.
Then the storm took us.
Rain blotted the world. Lightning stitched the sky. I took the helm and flew true, the Isendrek cutting through black water like a blade. We gained ground, but in the heart of that storm waited Sharkskin Reef.
I told her how greed took me there.
How Elara warned me — tight turns, too tight — and how I pushed the ship harder than any sane captain would. How we struck the reef once, twice, three times. How I felt the sea reaching for our keel. How Sushi crawled the hull from within, bursting through portholes, sealing the wounds with spell and timber faster than the water could claim us.
Then I told her about Harrigan.
How, as we burst from the storm, the Wormwood rose behind us, gaining. How Elara was suddenly struck from the helm by unseen hands. How Phoebe cried out that Harrigan himself was watching through his spyglass, savoring the moment. How Sushi bathed the deck in faerie fire and revealed the invisible killers. How Batrachus, Eubels, and Phoebe’s creatures tore them apart in seconds.
And then —
The final surge.
Elara back at the helm.
Wind at our back.
The Isendrek leaping for the line.
“We had won,” I finished.
“The Isendrek.”
The tavern erupted. The table shrank as pirates crowded in. I didn’t mind — every new chair pulled me closer to Tessa.
She leaned in, shouting into my pointed ear,
“So tell me, Taur… would you like somewhere quieter?”
I agreed faster than the wind changes in the Eye.

Thank you. If any are interested, Mythkeeper, who makes Youtube videos on Golarion, has a map in the beginning of his video on the Abendego Gulf.

Link:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6P5aKT_h0hg&t=5511s

You can see it about 2 minutes into the video.

Thank you Mythkeeper again!!

Is there a pre-earthfall map of Avistan and Garund? In an upcoming adventure, I want my players to find a map created by the cyclops of Ghol-Gan so I'm looking for a map like this, particularly the shape of the landmasses.

Thanks!

Crew after Session 12:

Aboard the Isendrek:
Knox
Elara
Pheobe
Sushi
Great Adolpho
Taur
Batrachus
Pemdas
rosie cuswell
barefoot samms toppin
fluhtred
claw
songer
baaka
ambrose kroop
breaker bones
conchobhar turlach shortstone
randy dandy
guitard
giffer tibbs
badger medlar
crimson cog cogward
Professor Buttcavage
Stabsy Thistlewink
Red-itch rick
Nome de guere
Dad murderin-Jim
Baeg McBaeg
Captain Inspector Riggle Safety McGee
Karen Long
Iwaowy
Eileen Dexy
Yoshimi
Valen
Kurdin
Beautiful Brian
Tina Scrimshaw
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Port Peril 3
Ollo 1
Ollo 2
Ollo 3
Ollo 4
Ollo 5
Ollo 6
Ollo 7
Ollo 8
Ollo 9
Ollo 10
Ollo 11
Quent 1
Quent 2
Quent 3
Quent 4
Quent 5
Quent 6
Quent 7
Quent 8
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Port peril 3

Aboard the Thresher:
Sandra Quinn
Eli La Valette
David Faraget
Thresher 1
Thresher 2
Thresher 3
Thresher 4
Thresher 5
Thresher 6
Thresher 7
Thresher 8
Thresher 9
Thresher 10
Thresher 11
Thrsher 12
Thrsher 13
Thresher 14
Thrsher 15
Ollo 1
Ollo 2
Ollo 3
Ollo 4
Ollo 5
Quent 1
Quent 2
Quent 3
Quent 4
Quent 5
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Port Peril 3
Port Peril 4
Port Peril 5

At Tidewater Rock:
Owlbear Hartshorn
Gukka
Original Guard 1
Orginal Guard 2
Original Guard 3
Original Guard 4
Ollo 1
Ollo 2
Quent 1
Quent 2
Port Peril 1
Port Peril 2
Royster McCleigh
Lady Agasta Smythee

Session 12 Summary: Wherein the players follow a treasure map Battrachus held since his backstory (and using the Dungeon Magazine adventure Fiend's Embrace) and then get back into following up on Chelaxian spies from Tempest Rising!

Excerpts from the prayer journal of Batrachus, regional champion of Gogunta

Gogunta, Mother of Swamps, let your unholy muck shield your faithful from danger and bring a swift end to your enemies. We departed on the first of Pharast, traveling from Beachcomber to Ollo to drop off Hieronimus Finch and his magical femur. I contemplated sacrificing him in your name, as we no longer needed him, but the femur did not seem valuable, and the crew seems disinclined to murder in the name of your faith. Only in self-defense, or in response to insult, or as part of ship to ship piracy, or if the person has something we want that is not for sale at a reasonable price. We are making good time due to the magic map that shows weather patterns, which you undoubtedly conspired to place into our possession.

During the journey we noticed a glamour cast on the treasure map I took from my village the night I departed to restore your faith to the Shackles and the surrounding environs. Some kind of hidden page. It spoke of a cloak created by the demon lord Socothbenoth, and given to a mortal named Iggwilv, author of the Demonicon. Iggwilv, in turn, gave the cloak to a powerful mortal witch named Tasha. This cloak, as it turns out, is the Fiend’s Embrace. Of course you, in your bounded but still impressive wisdom, already knew this. But it was news to me.

As the Fiend’s Embrace does not seem far from Tidewater Rock, I shall redouble my efforts to browbeat the crew to make haste to the site revealed by the map so that I can fulfill my holy mission and restore you to your rightful place as a mid-tier regional power.

***

Oh great Frog Mother, may your fecund ooze lead us to favor and fortune, and consign your enemies to a lifetime of their antonyms. We arrived at Tidewater Rock on Pharast 8. It was a grand reunion of crews, as the Thresher was also in port. There was a great feast to celebrate, and much fighting between crews. None ended in death, and so no doubt both crews now nurse their hidden hurts and fertilize the eggs of grievance within the swamp of their hearts. This is why you should never leave anyone alive. Mammalian culture is soft, ripe for a reordering of species hierarchies, at least within the Shackles and an appropriate distance beyond. Sandara Quinn has requested captaincy of the Thresher and will commit piracy under the flag of the Isendrek. We agreed, and have the beginnings of a grand armada. Adolpho and Sandara snuck off to Captain Knox’s bedroom on Tidewater rock, so he could produce a small brood. It would be valuable to win over more young humans, but they reproduce and mature at such a glacial pace as to be worthless for our purposes.

Your sacred brood continues to mature. They have not yet hatched, and I know that this extended incubation is a sign of your blessing, as the eggs gather power. Soon they will swarm across all of the Shackles and a reasonable distance inland on continental Garund. I fear for their safety, as no doubt you have many enemies amongst the jealous gods who fear a future in which you wield localized influence.

I had a long talk with Owlbear, the first of what is sure to eventually be a mid-sized number of mammalian followers. I am not sure he is fully conversant in all aspects of your dogma, but he doesn’t need to think. Just obey. He is to guard the eggs and obey Gukka in all things, unless I explicitly countermand her orders. As it may be a while until I return, we (Gukka and I – Owlbear stood watch) engaged in sex without the intention of procreation, a mammalian custom I don’t particularly hate.

The Mistress of the Rock informed us of an annual pirate regatta, one of the many preening rituals mammals create to avoid killing their enemies. It is dangerous, but if we win, Captain Knox will be elevated to a seat on the Pirate Council, and as a leader within his tribe, I will surely benefit from the trickle down glory that follows. She intended us to talk him out of it, and for the life of me I don’t understand why she thought that would work. But she is old, her womb dusty, and likely her mind is beginning to fail.

Eubels says hello.

***

Oh mighty Gogunta, whose brood will one day cover the world, or at least a portion of it appropriate to your stature as a minor (though not in our hearts) demon lord, your humble servant continues to bring glory to your name.

We departed Tidewater Rock on 11 Pharast and made landfall on the 12th in our search for the Fiend’s Embrace. The jungle was hot and wet, the kind of climate I know you love. The kind that stirs my blood to wakeful intent. If I didn’t have a brood waiting for me at home, and had not systematically murdered all the other boggards I know (excepting the beautiful Gukka – hi honey, if you are reading this), I would have had half a mind to start one. Elara’s wolf struggled with the heat. As you gifted Eubels with overactive sweat glands he was fine. Praise be.

Following the map, we came across the tree hut of a man named Kurdin, who possessed a very nice well maintained greatsword Betty. We promised him salt in exchange for boarding the wolf, who gave out from the heat. My plan was to double back and kill Kurdin in his sleep to take the sword (for myself, or possibly as a gift to Tuar’Thallian or Captain Knox if my trident proved nicer), but somehow Adolpho charmed him into coming with us. Killing him is still theoretically on the table in my book. It is a nice sword. He keeps it in great condition.

Further in the jungle we found a witch, where, following the clear guidance of the map, I purchased some potions of water walking. Everyone else declined to make a purchase, which I am sure they will regret at some indeterminate point in the future. Not I, for I have read your holy text, the Book of Rails, and I respect its teachings. We learned another party was looking for the Fiend’s Embrace, less than a day ahead of us. Their temerity has written a bloody end to their story.

I spotted their track and followed them to a bridge, where we were ambushed by a group of lacedons, easily dispatched. The tracks ended at the river, whereabouts of the other adventuring party unknown.

We reached the keep, making great time thanks to my frankly expert junglecraft. The swamp was rapidly reclaiming the keep, as all things will eventually fall to your power, adjusted for its comparative size and scope. Elara flew above the wall to get the lay of the land, while I led everyone else under and through the sunken gatehouse. A troll guarded the interior, and Adolpho kept it expertly at bay while Eubels ate it.

Thus far Kuradin has proved of little worth, though he has kept that blade in excellent condition. I look forward to possessing it once he is murdered and ritually sacrificed in your name.

There was an empty well in the central yard of the keep, which I bravely explored. Sometimes these wells hide valuable secrets or worthy foes. And sometimes an empty well is just an empty well, and this was one of those sometimes.

We entered the keep. Adolpho kept me from aggravating a green slime, who seemed content to leave us alone. There is a place for him in the world to come. Adolpho scouted ahead, and discovered a room of skeletal dogs. Phoebe immediately controlled two, and the other two were quickly dispatched.

A gnomish worshiper of Baphomet descended the stairs, the small stature of the gnome a reflection of how all are diminished in your sight, oh great Gogunta, apotheosis of burbling magnificence. His companions, Baphomites all, offered to ally with us. Clearly they did not know that a holy messenger of Gogunta was here on a mission of critical importance to the faith, or they would just plan a deadly ambush instead of this half baked plan that could never fool someone with amphibious cunning. To be fair, they probably just expected a bunch of mammals. They’ll believe anything.

The offer was to combine our forces and clear the remainder of the keep, in exchange for a single piece of treasure. This was a great arrangement, as we could use their help to clear out a room or two, and then kill them before they betrayed us. As worshipers of Baphomet, they can’t be trusted.

We ascended the stairs, where the cowards jumped us before we could jump them first. It’s like I always say, ‘never trust a Baphomite.’ I immediately pasted the gnome, Roon, the appropriate reward for his cowardly betrayal. One of our new skeletal dogs tripped their warrior, Valen, and all that remained was Mistress Malyara , cleric of Baphomet, and Bekelung the wizard. Or so we thought. They played their trump card, an inept ambush by two more of their band, Grinag and Spike. Adolpho’ s swordplay kept them at bay with an assist from Elara’s misfortune while I squeezed into the room and eviscerated Bekelung and the Mistress. No passage is too narrow to keep me from bringing bloody glory to your name.

Valen surrendered, and we decided to interrogate him before sacrificing him in your name. He revealed he was a hired sword, here to escort the Mistress to achieve the Fiend’s Embrace and please her bovine master.

At this point, I planned to kill him, as he no longer served any useful purpose. Please forgive your servant his limited vision. For as I contemplated the most delicious way to end his miserable existence, Adolpho had Valen kill Spike (held in place thanks to Phoebe's magic) to prove his loyalty, and became a member of our party, which had doubled in size (two skeletal dogs, the still useless Kurdin, and now Valen). But Valen was so eager to prove his loyalty he was surprisingly receptive to glorifying your name as a condition of his continued existence. You now have two mammalian converts. Not enough to meet your ambitions, but a serviceable start.

Many of the rooms in the keep were structurally unstable on account of the sinking, and we would have missed the diamond ring hiding out in a surprisingly well kitted out bathroom with not one, two, or three but four copper bathtubs. Worthy plunder if only we had the time to get them out of the jungle, but this conspiracy won't unravel itself.

Adolpho’s quick reflexes dispatched a room of stirges, and we made our way into the sinking basement, where we continued with our dispatching – this time a genuinely terrifying blood bloater. Thanks to some mighty wallops, channels, and a few well-placed lightning bolts I destroyed the swarm, only having lost about two Elora’s worth of blood between the eight of us. Though Kurdin hardly counts.

Two more trolls awaited us in the basement, including one wearing the Fiend’s Embrace. While the rest of the party (Phoebe, her four undead, Kurdin (the equivalent of maybe 1.5 of Phoebe's skeletal dogs), Valen, and Elora dispatched the secondary scrag, your humble servants Eubels and Batrachus engaged the troll leader. Thanks to some first rate grappling by one of Phoebe's crustacean zombines (the non-mammals are carrying this party) the second troll was dispatched, and a well-timed misfortune kept me alive long enough for Chad Chaddington to kill him. I donned the Fiend’s Embrace, and while I felt a psychic pull to return the cloak to Socothbenoth, I am confident I will always resist it, and this will never be a problem.

We returned to the Isendrek, richer in crew, treasure, and memories, all to glorify the great Gogunta, Mistress of Marshes.

***

I sing the song of the swamp to the great Gogunta, and humbly share my modest efforts to bring fear and renown to her great name. On Pharast 13 we continued our quest to uncover the Chelaxian plot to conquer the Shackles and jeopardize the base of your forthcoming renewal. We were directed to find a naga who possessed the key to unlocking the grand conspiracy. We found the naga Sarliss, who Elara attempted to charm. It went well. The bribe we had to pay COULD have been larger, after all. But first we had to do her a favor for the privilege of paying that bribe, namely drive off (but not kill) a rival mate. She agreed to take the copper tubs. So we sailed back to the Fiends Embrace, made a brief trek through the jungle - tubs in tow - and by Pharast 15 the bribe was paid (tubs plus 2000 gold). I pointed out (again) that upon receiving the information needed we could kill the naga and reclaim both gold and tubs, but I was outvoted. Their small mammalian brains were worried that we may someday need hyper specific information we could only access from this one source.

We found Munarei a short distance from Sarliss (like 100 feet away), who we were instructed to drive out, but not kill. He seemed to be a former mate of some kind, and Sarliss did not want to close the door on his fertilizing another clutch in the future. This was sensible. He proved to be a challenge, and my steel trap of mind fell for his magical suggestion to return to the ship. The rest of the party dispatched the naga, thanks to a well timed ghoul touch by Pheobe, though Eubels was gravely poisoned in the process (that he survived is the only reason I have not begun a genocide against all Naga).

Chad Chaddington accosted me on my return to the ship, grappling me while clacking his war cry of ‘Bro’ over and over. I was forced to slay him, and suppose I owe Phoebe a new crustacean corpse of some kind. I am sure the Shackles will vomit up your bounty in short order.

Sarliss pointed us to a corpse in possession of a Sargavan naval code. I once again pointed out that the odds of Sarliss possessing a second corpse possessing a second code we may one day need were fairly small, but I was once again outvoted, and we left the mainland rich in code but poorer in gold and bathtubs. When we have firmly established your foothold in Golarion I humbly suggest the first thing we eliminate is democracy.

Royster was able to get the note translated, and we were off to Quent to find the captain of the diamond star.

Eubels says ‘sup’.

***

All hail Gogunta, scourge of all terrain that is neither bog, swamp, or marsh. On Pharast 20, we arrived in Quent and found the captain’s houseboat. He was not there, but we did find a bottle with a suspiciously blank piece of paper within. Adolpho used alchemy and discovered a note sending us to Blackwater Quay in Hell Harbor, where we should seek out Roweena Kellet. Elora’s eidetic memory for random s%~& crew folks tell her came in handy, as she knew that Roweena, was a harbormaster in employ of Arrox Endymion, Lord of Hell Harbor and former admiral in the Chelaxian navy. Elara also knew she managed two small warehouses and she had gone missing. We investigated the warehouses, but discovered nothing untoward. We headed to Rowen’s house. It was broken into and completely tossed, but there was one spot the thieves missed. Inside we found a number of secret docs (possible blackmail?) and a lead directing us to Corlan, a tengu smuggler who works for Roweena.

We also learned that the Master of Gales is not competing in the regatta this year. I sense marital strife in Captain Knox’s future.

We arrived at Corlan’s house. We knocked and no one answered, so Eubels bashed the door down. The second he did an assassin got off an amazing shot from several rooftops away, killing Corlan instantly. We chased him down, thanks to a well-timed glitterdust from Elora. My tongue held him in place, and Adolpho took him down. We stabilized the assassin and headed into Corlan’s house so that we could interrogate our one lead.

We tortured the assassin (Giles Halmis) for information, and to do it right, I made a point of cutting off his hands and feet before we healed him into consciousness He was surprisingly self-possessed, even when I made a point of swallowing his extremities one by one (humans taste like pork. They are delicious). We got the information we needed. He had been hired to eliminate those who had been participating in the grand conspiracy who were no longer needed. To finally unravel the final note we must seek out Zarskia Galembar at Gasperleaf’s apothecary in Port Peril and ask for two pounds of powdered thileu bark. And then we finally showed some sense and killed the assassin.

What awaits us in Port Peril surely you must know, but that is for a mere mortal like myself.

All glory to Gogunta, Song of the Swamps, and the bloody rise of the amphibians in the age to come.

End of Session Bookkeeping...
Taur'Thalian Sigtrygrrson: L7 Half-elf skald (Dragon skald)
Sushi: L6 Tengu druid (shark-shaman) of Hei Feng
Batrachus: L1 Boggard brawler (wild child)/L6 Hunter
Elara Variel: L7 Human witch (fey-touched hexer)
The Great Adolfo: L6 Human swashbuckler (Inspired blade)
Lawrence "Hard" Knox: L6 Half-orc ranger (Divine tracker)
Phoebe Flynn: L7 Human cleric (Undead lord)

Data: Pharast 23, 4717

Has anyone seen a versionof the Free Captain's Regatta Race Route without the letters that denote the race events? I'm looking for a copy to print out and give to my players.

End of session 11 bookkeeping...

End of session 10 bookkeeping:

Infamy: 28

Date: 28 Calistril, 4717

Taur'Thalian Sigtrygrrson: L7 Half-elf skald (Dragon skald)
Sushi: L6 Tengu druid (shark-shaman) of Hei Feng
Batrachus: L1 Boggard brawler (wild child)/L6 Hunter
Elara Variel: L6 Human witch (fey-touched hexer)
The Great Adolfo: L6 Human swashbuckler (Inspired blade)
Lawrence "Hard" Knox: L6 Half-orc ranger (Divine tracker)
Phoebe Flynn: L7 Human cleric (Undead lord)

Post Session 11 Crew:

Isendrek (73+7 PCs = 80):
Pemdas
rosie cuswell
barefoot samms toppin
fluhtred
claw
sandra quinn
owlbear hartshorn
songer
baaka
ambrose kroop
breaker bones
conchobhat turlach shortstone
randy dandy
guitard
giffer tibbs
badger medlar
crimson cog cogward
Professor Buttcavage
Stabsy Thistlewink
Red-itch rick
David faraget
Nome de guere
Dad murderin-Jim
Baeg McBaeg
Captain Inspector Riggle Safety McGee
Karen Long
Iwaowy
Eileen Dexy
Eli La Vallette
Yoshimi
Ollo 18
Quent 15
Port Peril 10

Tidewater Rock:
Quent 4
4 original TWR guards

Thresher:
Thresher 15

End of session 11, where the players started the hunt for the Cheliax spies in earnest...

Captain’s Log — Laurence Knox
Vessel: Isendrak (free-captain cutter, coppered; weatherly under fore-and-aft)
The Shackled Seas, Calistral 2–28

Calistral 2 — Quent Roads, Merrymead
Light northerly off the Quent headlands; slight swell setting in from the Fever Sea. Hands turned-to at sunrise: holystoned decks, braces tended, jib fairleads re-led to ease chafe.

Sandara Quinn petitioned on Besmara’s behalf for a tithe—1 plunder sacrificed with proper forms at the quay. Superstition sits ill with me, but order at sea includes honoring the powers sailors fear; accounted and remitted.

Yoshimi (the owl-woman) demanded Purify Food & Drink daily; directed Sushi to oblige at midday mess until further notice. She needs a sharp slap, but the lad seems not up for it. If it becomes too interfering, it will have to be handled.

Professor Butcavage pressed for a Port Peril library membership. Authorized, subscription raised by collection from Taur’Thalion, Batrachus, and Sushi; officers are scholars as well as sailors.

Met Callindra Raines, master shipwright. Commissioned conversion of the after hold to a magical workshop; laid initial design for mithral cladding (outer belt only at first to protect the turn of the bilge; full sheathing later if balance permits). She knows her work.

Shore parties: Sandara escorted Adolfo to a Besmaran stone; Barefoot Samms guided Sushi & Phoebe to Gozreh’s shrine. Crew morale high. Conor & Rosie announced marriage; granted liberty with conditions.

Recruiting: Taur’Thalion and I signed 11 hands—fit, mostly coastal runners used to shoals and squalls.
Repute: Adolfo’s mouth raised our infamy to 28. Useful, if kept within bounds.

Discipline: one cuffed for idle hands at the capstan; no stripes given.

Calistral 3 — Quent
Southerly breeze; glass steady. Routine boat drills; gunnery crews rotated through dry runs.

Phoebe ashore to see family; granted.

Calistral 4 — Off Quent
Morning calm, cat’s paws by noon. Ran light canvas to keep steerageway.

Curiosity of note: Eubels put on a thousand pounds and height besides—no ordinary fattening; more a metamorphosis. Tested the foredeck grating for load; reinforced with spare futtocks and a doubled beam under his station. The Isendrak bears it well—her scantlings are honest.

Elara troubled by a dream; tucked the note into my private file. Dreams matter at sea more than we admit.

Calistral 5 — Port Peril, wedding day (Conor & Rosie)
Breeze veered westerly; harbor smooth.

Ceremony conducted in town; crew turned-out clean. Toasts kept short; liberty staggered by watches.

Incident: Baeg McBaeg in drink past good sense. Kroop fetched Phoebe; who arrived too late to save him, but in time to raise him. I questioned her—her answers were neat and quick. Undead crew are disciplined and tireless, but disturb some of the living. There must be a balance - I must find it.

Calistral 6–7 — Clearing Port Peril for Quent
Wind abaft the beam, fair; made easy time along the Quent Run, hewing outside the weed lines. Hands trimmed well; telltales streamed sweet.

Mission per Tessa Fairwind: reconnoiter Chelish spywork in the isles.

Calistral 8 (noon) — Quent, by writ
Presented Tessa’s writ, bypassed fees and quarantine. Divided labor:

Sushi, Adolfo, Phoebe to Carl’s Maps with the Shackles chart. Carl closed shop; confirmed identity via Tessa; put improvements on Tessa’s tab. Ordered Sushi to check in daily; that map is a weapon sharper than steel.

My party (Elara, Taur’Thalion, Batrachus) to the Temple of Calistria. My mother received the officers warmly and me with cruel grace —sugar on the rim, vinegar in the cup. She secured audience with Dindreann (High Priestess), who will name Wreckers that stole Calistrian relics—if we fetch the piece from them. She directed us toward Beachcomber and the Temple of Nordberger for leads.

Filed: Obligation incurred. Mother’s eyes upon me. I will not blink.

Calistral 9 — Quent offing
Rigging inspection aloft: re-whipped starboard topsail leech line; tarred standing rig. Gunnery polish. No strangers sighted.

Calistral 10 — On the Sargavan Track
Met a cutter running her pride too close. Brought the weather gage, two evolutions:

One cannon, one catapult to take way off and smash her nerve. She struck; we boarded.

Prize proved the Whisperwake (Absalom Cup winner), owned by Jasper Algerian, who geased his master to sail north–south for fame.

No crew lost. Three chose us on the spot. Adolfo set to damage control and repair schedule.

Plunder +3.

Calistral 11 — Whisperwake alongside
Light airs; riggers slung outboard to caulk. Surveyed her fine lines—fast, flighty; not a sea-keeper in a gale but a racer sure enough.

Calistral 12 — Beachcomber quarantine
Dispatched Whisperwake with 10 prize crew back to Tidewater Rock (orders sealed). Made Beachcomber; accepted one week quarantine and port fee (1 plunder)—painful, but rules exist for a reason.

Crew‐finding continued. Elara, Taur, Adolfo talked their way into Temple of Nordberger. Wreckers want our ship’s origin as price for secrets. Elara refused. Good—no man barters the keel beneath his feet.

Alternate accord: find the Brine Banshee, lost near Ollo, and its secret of speed. Logged course and plan. Plunder remaining: 2.

Calistral 13 — Beachcomber Roads
Hands employed in small work: flemished lines, repaired ratlines, sharpened boarding grapnels. Morale steady.

Calistral 14 — Back to Quent (by writ), then cleared for Ollo
Re-writ, no fees. Dindreann provided a lead on the Brine Banshee: seek Haneilius Fitch in Ollo.

Notable: Resonance from coins in the sanctuary—Pieces of Eight, Besmara’s relic of fellowship. Chosen in concert under the full moon, each bearer a distinct domain. Dindreann selected Trickery. Logged coordination note: At next full moon, we must apportion domains like sailcloth—no overlaps, no slack.

Put back to sea for Ollo on the evening tide.

Calistral 15–16 — Ollo Passage
Quartering sea; ran reefed mains’l at dusk for comfort, shook it out by dawn. Crew drills—fire, flood, boarders—completed to standard.

Calistral 17 — Ollo
Dropped boat rather than berth. Taur’Thalion located Fitch at a low tavern; kelp beer bought; we returned to his place. Scheme: use the thigh bone of a Banshee officer as a compass to the wreck; but need a ring in the hands of Milksop Morton of the Dryad’s Grave.

Morton pirates upon pirates. I have a long memory for such men.

We sailed to hunt him.

Calistral 18–19 — Northern Reaches
Wind freshening sou’east, sky hard and blue. Gunners to exercise; boarding pikes re-oiled. Quiet before the blow.

Calistral 20 — Action with Dryad’s Grave
Sighted sails; closed without shot—Morton confident in his iron pets. He threw mechanical grapnels; we let them bite. Then Stormriders gave tongue.

Batrachus shattered constructs and elementals, Eubels trampling like a storm surge.

Phoebe blinded Morton; I loosed two into his chest before he could finish his fireball.

Taur’Thalion sang and slew; Adolfo unpicked a grappler’s guts with a duelist’s needle; Sushi called down lightning; Elara hexed their luck to splinters.

Deck ours within minutes. Plunder +3. Sold Dryad’s Grave in Ollo for +1. Shipped Fitch aboard—north to the wreck.

Discipline: one Stormrider docked a share for looting before the all-clear; lesson given, rank spared.

Calistral 21 — On the Banshee’s Line
Fresh northerly; we kept close-hauled, then eased sheets as the bone pulled us off the shelf and out over darker water.

Calistral 22 — Wreck of the Brine Banshee
The bone tugged us atop a trench. Batrachus scouted and drew a bite from a shark and a triton-caster.

We descended in force. First contact ashore: Shark Shaman and companion—quickly dealt with. Found half the wreck at ~90 feet; the rest farther down the trench. Pressed deep—colder, heavier, risk mounting.

We moved quickly—too quickly. Killed a giant anemone, then a shark that wasn’t there at all. By the time we smelled the lie, Batrachus was dominated and struck Taur’Thalion dead with one ruinous blow. Eubels—bless that beast—smashed his own master senseless rather than let the wrong stand. Then Adolfo turned, nearly spitted Elara. Phoebe tried to hold him, failed; Eubels dropped him too.

I felt a caster behind a false bulkhead and charged—first crack bounced me off the illusion. Sushi saw true, slid in—Aboleth. He set a thunderhead over the beast; Phoebe sent her undead crab to worry it. I broke through, struck deep; Sushi finished the monster with an icicle neat as a stitch.

We surfaced with Batrachus and Adolfo bound, and Phoebe raised Taur. The sea took its due and returned him—once. I do not intend to spend another.

Plunder: +1 (ten windlances), +12 (Chelish Navy payroll), +3 (timber). Logged.

Calistral 23 — Upper Wreck
Returned to the 90-foot section. Killed a giant jellyfish—it stung Adolfo badly. Cleared the hold: +3 plunder.

Settled Fitch’s due: –2 plunder, then landed him at Ollo.

Discipline: no breaches. Commendations posted:

Eubels (extraordinary judgment under domination crisis).

Sushi (target discrimination; illusions).

Phoebe (resurrection under pressure; crab employment effective).

Elara (hex coverage while wounded).

Adolfo (post-incident composure; repair contributions maintained).

Calistral 24 — Ollo Yard
Hauled alongside. Coppered the bowsprit-harping and a forefoot belt, burnishing what copper we already bore; gains noted: cleaner bite to windward, less leeway when pinched, and a sweet run when sheets are eased. We left that evening for Quent (map), thence Beachcomber (Wreckers’ secret).

I sent a short letter ashore. A son must write his mother, even when the page cuts his fingers.

Calistral 25–27 — Quent and the Shoals
Called at Carl’s Maps; our chart grows cleverer by the day. Ran the Cacophonous edge under tops’l only by night; no sense hunting reefs in the dark. Hands content; discipline taut as a stay.

Calistral 28 — Beachcomber
Paid the Temple of Nordberger with knowledge: the Banshee’s secret of speed, given in riddled form. In return, secured at least one solid thread: a naga named Sarliss along the Slithering Coast knows a thing or two of Chelish spies. Logged rendezvous plan (shoal water, rising tide, parley flag).

The priests promised another whisper for another courtesy; we’ll collect it when I decide they’ve earned it.

Standing Orders & Notes
Gunnery: Maintain mixed battery doctrine—Uldergun for shock, catapult for spars; conserve shot, aim for motive power first (masts, wheel, grapnels).

Boarding: Grapnel discipline—cast on command; cut free on whistle two. Pike wall forward; duelists and frog follow-through aft.

Damage Control: Bucket lines drilled weekly; carpenters’ mates sleep with maul and plug.

Pieces of Eight: At next full moon, apportion domains without duplication. I will not have six helmsmen and no hand at the sheets.

Aboleths: Illusions presumed present henceforth; no lone advances through “solid” bulkheads; buddy rule below 10 fathoms.

Eubels (load): Keep him near the mast partners in a blow; no stampede on light planking.

Phoebe’s Raises: By my leave only, unless life hangs by a thread and seconds count. Then raise, and we’ll argue after.

Private Reflections (sealed)
My mother’s praise is a velvet gauntlet. She wants strength enough to settle an old score—vengeance upon my father whose name tastes of iron when she spits it through her teeth. She will call it justice. Perhaps it is. I was schooled to choose the winning tack early, to reef before others smell the squall, to strike only when the wind will fill my sails. I will become what she demands—powerful, disciplined, unassailable—but not as her instrument alone.

The Isendrak is my answer to her: lines fair, crew squared, a ship that does what she’s told and forgives a man his secrets. When I walk her deck before dawn, I can hear the sea admit a simple fact: order is mercy at sea. Discipline keeps men living. The rest is stories.As long as she is mine, I am secure.

We will take Sarliss’s thread, pull it until Cheliax shows its hand, and we will keep raising our name—cleanly where we can, brutally where we must. When the reckoning mother wants finally stands off our bow, we will already hold the weather gage.

And then we’ll see who blinks.

— L. Knox

End of session 10 bookkeeping:

Infamy: 26

Date: 2 Calistril, 4717

Taur'Thalian Sigtrygrrson: L7 Half-elf skald (Dragon skald)
Sushi: L6 Tengu druid (shark-shaman) of Hei Feng
Batrachus: L1 Boggard brawler (wild child)/L6 Hunter
Elara Variel: L6 Human witch (fey-touched hexer)
The Great Adolfo: L6 Human swashbuckler (Inspired blade)
Lawrence "Hard" Knox: L6 Half-orc ranger (Divine tracker)
Phoebe Flynn: L6 Human cleric (Undead lord)

Crew:
Isendrek (62+7 PCs = 69):
rosie cuswell
barefoot samms toppin
fluhtred
claw
sandra quinn
owlbear hartshorn
songer
baaka
ambrose kroop
breaker bones
conchobhat turlach shortstone
randy dandy
guitard
giffer tibbs
badger medlar
crimson cog cogward
Professor Buttcavage
Stabsy Thistlewink
Red-itch rick
David faraget
Nome de guere
Dad murderin-Jim
Baeg McBaeg
Captain Inspector Riggle Safety McGee
Karen Long
Iwaowy
Eileen Dexy
Eli La Vallette
Yoshimi
Ollo 18
Quent 15

Tidewater Rock:
Quent 4
4 original TWR guards

Thresher:
Thresher 15

And That’s How We Became Free Captains of the Shackles…

“This is where it all began, my dear” Adolfo sighed, stretching his arms above his head and putting his feet up on the chair opposite his at the small corner table of the tavern. “Had I not wandered in here by happenstance so many months ago, you may never have met The Great Adolfo!”

Samdara’s head rested on his shoulder, her cheeks pink from the couple of drinks they had shared thus far. She looked up at him and smiled. “Lucky day for both of us, wouldn’t you say?” she quipped.

“Indeed!” he exclaimed excitedly. He leaned in for a kiss. “But maybe a bit luckier for you than for The Great Adolfo” he whispered playfully, elbowing her gently in the side.

She planted the palm of her hand firmly into his face and pushed him away.

“Why don’t you go kiss that mirror over there instead, Your Greatness” she said with a laugh “Besides, your hat is crooked.”

Adolfo laughed, and then, feigning a look of horror, jumped to his feet, grasping at the hat dramatically.

“A travesty!” he bellowed as he rushed to the dirty mirror hanging on the wall nearby. “A free captain of the Shackles cannot be seen in such disarray!”

He regarded himself in the mirror, adjusting his hat. He pulled out a small ivory comb from his breast pocket and began grooming his beard. As he returned the comb to his pocket he could not help but admire the new, utterly flamboyant cloak draped over his shoulder’s. It seemed to shimmer with every move he made. He turned his shoulders left and right in the mirror to make sure it was sitting flush and aligned perfectly.

Samdara called over to him. “Geez, will you cut it out! I think you love that thing more than your precious hat… maybe even more than me!”

He spun around and marched purposefully back to the table, placed both palms down on the table and leaned in close to her.

“Don’t worry, my dear” he replied sweetly. “You will always be a close third”. He smiled wryly.

She grabbed the remains of a lime from her drink and threw it at him playfully. He deftly dodged making sure it did not hit his precious cloak.

“Just get back over here and stop making a spectacle of yourself!” she laughed.

He bowed deeply.

“Your wish is my command, my beauty!”

But just as he settled in beside her again, a couple members of the Isendrek’s crew came over. Adolfo recognized them as that bee fellow, the cook and that guy whose name was Butt Cabbage or something like that.

“Hello sir” said the cabbage guy. “Didn’t expect to see you here. I hope we are not intruding.”

He glanced over to Samdara, who gave him a slightly annoyed furrow of the brow.

“Nonsense!” he exclaimed. “I always have time for my men!”

Samdara rolled her eyes. “But apparently not for your woman” she snapped under her breath.

Adolfo hesitated for a moment but couldn’t be shaken so easily.

“What can The Great Adolfo do for you all on this fine evening?” he asked.

The crewmen, having picked up on Samdara’s frustration, began retreating slowly. “We were hoping to hear about some of the exploits since we left Ollo” the chef said meekly. “Since the Captain and Battrachus have been gone, you and the other officer’s have been far too busy to catch us up. No songs from Taur’thalian, nor yarns from you.”

The butt cabbage guy piped up. “All we know is tons of plunder keeps rolling in and all of a sudden we’re legit Shackles Pirates now. There’s got to be a good story or two there!”

Adolfo looked at the bee fellow. He shrugged and responded, “I just needed to get off the ship… fresh air”

Adolfo turned to Samdara who was looking away from him, shunning his existence.

“I, uh, am, uh, sorry fellows” he stammered. “Perhaps tonight is not the best night for the Tales of the Great Adolfo…” he trailed off.

Samdara was mad but could feel Adolfo virtually vibrating in his chair at the chance to regale someone with his musings.

She laughed to herself and sighed. “This is who he is, after all” she thought. “Can’t change him and I honestly wouldn’t want to anyway.”

She turned to him and gave him a peck on the cheek.

“Go ahead, my sweet.” she said standing up. “Just don’t stay out too late.”

Adolfo’s heart swelled. He watched her glide to the door. She hesitated for a minute, turned back and gave him a wink, then left.

He glanced to the men. A few more crew members wandered over. They must have been toward the back of the tavern because he hadn’t noticed them before. He scanned the room. It was busy and bustling. But he noticed a few faces looking over curiously, murmuring to their respective company.

Adolfo knew an opportunity when he saw it.

He slowly rose from his chair, turning his back to his men.

“Soooo!” he grumbled. His voice started low but began to rise in strength.

“You wish to hear more tales of the Isendrek, The Great Adolfo, his mighty comrades and their sturdy crew?!” he proclaimed, back still to them, arms outstretched.

A few conversations in the room stopped. His crewmen looked around, a bit confused. Adolfo stood unshaken, awaiting a response.

“Um, yes?” Butt Cabbage replied sheepishly.

Adolfo spun dramatically around, his flamboyant cloak swirled around with his, creating a multicolored, hypnotic shimmer all around.

“I could not hear you!” he shouted. “Do you want to hear the story of the latest and greatest pirates to sail these tumultuous seas, now under the flag of Free Captains!”

More conversations halted. More eyes were on him.

A strong but disjointed, and still relatively muted, “Aye” came from corners of the room.

He drew Brine’s Sting from his scabbard, swishing it deftly through the air a few times.

“My ears must deceive me! I guess those in this room are not ready! Not strong enough! Not pirate enough!!!”

He proceeded to execute a series of skilled parries from imaginary attacks and blindingly fast counter-thrusts as he continued.

“I will try one last time! Do you all have the stomach to hear the tale of the most death defying, dangerous and dastardly collection of devil-dogs to sail into this port in so many years…”

He then danced a graceful slide back and spin ending with a dramatically stab, dealing the finishing blow to the nonexistent foe in front of him as he completed his question.

“The Crew of the Isendrek?!?!”

The room exploded. A thundering “Aye!” came from everywhere. A few empty glasses flew arbitrarily, smashing into the walls and floor. A dagger flew passed Adolfo’s head, embedding itself into the wall behind him. He did not flinch.

Adolfo grabbed his drink off his table and threw it down with a smile.

“Hahaha! A room worthy of the Tales of The Great Adolfo! Your wish is my command!”

With that, he skillfully leapt up onto the bar and swung his rapier demonstratively out over the crowd as if gesturing to an imaginary scene out in the distance.

“This latest story starts a few months ago, in Ollo.” he opined. “The great captain Knox, the beating, bile-filled heart of the Isendrek… an angry, 8-foot-tall pile of the toughest muscle, sinew and bone Besmara has ever spat out of her briny abyss, had to leave us for pressing matters at The Rock. The Rock, by the way, that was cracked by the Isendrek and defended by her crew from an ambush of overwhelming odds!”

He paused at the strong reaction from the room at mention of the Rock.

“But that is a story for another day!” He winked and continued.

“Captain Knox took with him the hulking Battrachus, the Ambassador of Amphibious Assault himself… who, even when disarmed, remains the Pummeling Purveyor of Pain and Punishment and a scourge upon the lands and seas!”

The crowd really seemed to be leaning into these introductions. Adolfo’s cloak rippled and shuddered as if it was as excited as he was.

“This left the rest of the officers in charge, as the life of a pirate never stops for anything! So, who was left to drive on in this tale of danger and adventure?”

He paused as if waiting for an answer to his rhetorical question. The crowd quickly grew impatient, a few responses of “Who?!” rolled in. Adolfo smiled, pulling a gold coin from the purse on his belt. He held it up for the room to see. He laid it gingerly in the palm of his hand, then placed it over his heart and took a meditative, deep breath.

“First we have Sushi. Calm in demeanor. A man of many skills. Devoutly religious and a soul strong enough to weather the winds of the Eye itself. But don’t let your guard down, he is a controller of the very forces of Mother Nature… and a commander of the most dangerous beasts the sea can provide him. Look away for a second and his vines will hold you beneath the waves while his minions of the sea feast on your living flesh!”

He tossed the coin to the bartender, who clumsily caught it, then pulled out another. This one he laid flat in his open palm and reached it out in from of him as if offering it to the room.

“Next we have Elara. Soft spoken and eloquent. A master of parlance and diplomacy. But again, do not be deceived, for she is the Cackling Lady… a Warden of Witchcraft and the Maven of Man’s Misfortune. One glance from her and everything you attempt fails. Every swing hits naught but air, every attempt to escape leaves you somehow more trapped, and every attempt to resist leaves you even more vulnerable. And if you somehow manage to survive all that, she can summon the forces of lightening from the heavens above to snatch your soul and send it straight to hell.”

He flipped that coin to the bartender as well. The next one he pulled out and feigned dropping it, reaching out as if it had been lost in the shadows of the tavern floor. The crowd reacted for a moment but he quickly revealed his slight of hand as it appeared back in his palm.

“And then there is Phoebe. A dark demeanor, yet playful. She almost has a childlike innocence that draws you in… until you realize what toys this ‘child’ enjoys playing with. She is the Defier of Death and the Unbridled Dutchess of the Undead… pulling on the very fabric of life itself to bring back what was lost. If you find her alone and consider that an advantage, beware. Her necrotic denizens are all around you, hiding in the shadows. If you’re naive enough to think her your prey, it is likely already too late… and you will soon become one of them.”

He flipped it behind his back to the eagerly waiting bartender. The next coin he pulled out, flipped it up over his head, then snatched it out of the air and held it up triumphantly.

“Next we have Taur’thallian. The Skirmishing Skald… The Battling Balladeer… The Warbling Warrior! Voice of Inspiration on the Isendrek! Raising spirits when situations grow most dire! Able to make the toughest of men weep just as handily with his words as with his relentless strikes. One note can turn the tides of battle as he cuts down foe after foe, turning their hearts before stopping them forever!”

Adolfo paused for a moment, tilted his head to the side and began tapping his foot.

“Am I forgetting someone?” he quipped playfully.

The crowd, already in a fervor, building more and more with each coin pulled, erupted again, calling out “Adolfo!”.

Adolfo put his hand over his heart as if taken aback.

“Do my ears deceive me again?! You ask for just Adolfo?!” he queried, pulling another coin from the coin pouch. “For I am…”

He flipped it high in the air, way out in front of the bar. He then performed a one-handed cartwheel with his free hand, vaulting him off the bar and landing him in a crouched position on one knee facing the other way, rapier poised in front of him. His eyes picked up the coin just in time to scooch a bit back and to the left, landing the coin squarely back in the pouch on his belt.

“The GREAT Adolfo!!!” he thundered.

The room erupted in applause. He leapt to his feet and unleashed a dazzling display of sword work as he boasted on.

“The Great Adolfo… deft of foot, keen of mind, sharp of tongue and strong of heart. Master shipwright, ingenious inventor, expert sailor, impeccable dresser, slayer of men and taker of the hearts of women.” He halted his feigned assault and raised an eyebrow. “Rumored to be a dirty, rotten scallywag of a scoundrel… but I think in this company, I fit right in.”

Laughs poured in amongst cheers and clinking of glasses.

“But most importantly!” he continued, jabbing his rapier in the air while pulling the coin pouch from his belt with his other hand.

He raised the pouch to his mouth and used his teeth to hold the drawstring and cinch it tight. He then flung the pouch high in the air, spun three times in a whirlwind of color, and stabbed through the purse, freezing it in place, hung on the very tip of his rapier.

“The greatest duelist the Shackles have ever seen!” the crowd roared again but he did not hesitate.

“And while you are all here listening to my tale…”

He then flicked his wrist releasing the pouch from the blade. But before it could fall more than an inch, he slashed across it, ripping it open and sending the remaining coins inside cascading across the bar.

“Your drinks are on me!!!!”

How can the reaction to that even be described?

Even if Besmara was sleeping in the deepest trenches of the ocean that night, the cheers from that tavern most assuredly disturbed her slumber.

Adolfo’s Tale (the abridged version for everyone’s sanity)

Adolfo’s tale went on well into the wee hours of the morning. And as he said, the tale started in Ollo.

He began when the Isendrek had arrived there… 18 Kuthona, its hold overflowing with plunder from Mancatcher Cove. They spent 2-3 weeks there to sell their spoils, resupply and get some much-needed R&R.

During that stretch they spent time recruiting new crew and spreading the word of their deeds. Adolfo did what Adolfo was born to do… talk endlessly about himself (and his crew if there was time). Elara and Taur worked on recruitment and quite successfully.

All in all they had added 23 new faces to the crew of the Isendrek. Some particular new crewmembers that piqued Adolfo’s interest were Karen Long, Iwaouy, Eileen Dexy, Elli LaValette and an owl woman named Yoshima. Adolfo took extra notice of Yoshima as Sushi seemed to immediately gravitate to her.

Adolfo had done a good job pumping up their renown. Capt. Knox was confident that they were infamous enough to take the trials to become free captains (21 infamy total).

Unfortunately, they would need to refill their holds with more plunder before sailing into Port Peril.

Just as they were to set sail, Knox received a dispatch from his wife back at The Rock. She needed him desperately for something personal. Battrachus agreed to accompany him as he wanted to check on his brood anyway. Knox left Taur and Adolfo in charge, confident that they and the other officers would have no issue continuing on their adventures with a goal of hitting Port Peril as soon as their holds were full. Strict instructions were given to go and take the trials whether Knox was back with them or not.

They left Ollo on Abadius 6. Adolfo decided not to mention the whole thing with that Avanar creep wanting to have relations with Elara’s wolf. Further, he wanted to block out the memory that Elara had agreed after Sushi had offered himself up as well. The Tales of Adolfo had no place for stories like that.

Anyway… they took a quick voyage back to Mancatcher Cove to pick up the remaining spoils that they could not fit into the Isendrek’s hold when they had initially conquered it. The next day they left Mancatcher Cover fully depleted of its riches (5 plunder) and were on their way.

They decided to head for the location marked on Sushi’s map, which was labeled ‘The Divine Truth’. The journey there was uneventful and on Abadius 10 they arrived at what Adolfo could only describe as a jungle paradise. It was a small island with rocky cliffs and a channel running into the center of the island where a breathtaking lagoon lay tucked away below a cascading waterfall.

As they sailed toward the channel, Adolfo and Sushi spied an enormous sea turtle, well concealed on a rock in the middle of the mouth of the channel. Adolfo wished to get closer and see but Sushi’s knowledge of the sea’s fauna told him not to approach as they can be aggressive when protecting their offspring.

Adolfo acquiesced, though sad to miss the experience of seeing such a magnificent beast up close.

As they sailed up the channel, they heard a cry for help. Some ‘sea lady’ (later to be explained to Adolfo as being a *Triton)

*** Quick Note: Adolfo often calls people and things by his own names for them. He is often corrected by his friends but that doesn’t stop him. Corrections will be captured in parentheses with a ‘*’ for clarity for those hearing Adolfo’s version of things. ***

So anyway, this ‘sea lady’ (*Triton) was riding some kind of ‘sea horse’ (*Hippocampus) and was ranting about a Plesiosaurus that was being attacked by ‘sea cats’ (*They might actually be called that).

Anyway, the team charged in. Just as the sea cats were about to finished the beast off, Taur arrived, dealing a massive blow to one and drawing its attention. Pheobe channeled the energy of death damaging them both as her crab attacked the other. Elara cursed the fortune of the first cat, and it failed in its exploits to injure Taur.

Adolfo arrived in time to distract the first. But before he could attack the Plesiosaur leveled a mighty blow to the weakened feline, getting the ultimate revenge as it ripped the life away from it. Adolfo quickly switched targets and parried a mighty bite just before it closed around his arm. He dodged right, crouched low and buried his blade deep into the sea cat’s throat. Brine’s Sting unleashed its power as salt filled the wound. Adolfo watched the life fade from its eyes as it gurgled out blood-filled, salty brine dripping from its jowls.

Another great win for Team Adolfo! Um, er, Team Isendrek! (Adolfo does that a lot during his stories)

The sea lady’s name was ‘Jen-something’ (*Jennessara) and she had a herd of these Plesiosaurus. Adolfo asked what the heck you do with Plesiosaurus other than eat them (a thought which horrified her) but she didn’t seem to have any good answer. Adolfo stopped caring before she even answered anyway so…

OK, so the Jen lady asked them to help her because some different kind of ‘sea lady’ (*Oceanid) was trying to steal her herd. Adolfo guesses that the other one wanted to eat them. Either way the crew of the Isedrek was too busy. That Jenny-Hennesee girl was disappointed but did tell them an easier path to climb to the top of the island and cross the river over the waterfall, so they were on their way.

As they made their way up the path, Taur’s keen eye spotted some well-hidden lizard people. They must have understood the strength of this mighty band as they backed off as soon as they were spotted, never to be seen again. The rest of the climb was uneventful, save a 100ft long, rather rickety bridge, that seemed concerning to cross. Sushi was confident that it could hold at least 350 lbs but Adolfo was fairly confident it could hold 400. Adolfo loved that he had another great engineering mind to work things out with. Sushi was a pleasure to have around! Unfortunately, Phoebe had to leave her crab behind as it weighed way too much to get across safely.

They finally made it to the ruins of a monastery on the cliffside. Along the way Sushi had explained that some people were here and the church was taken over by nature… something about abandoning the idea of society… honestly Adolfo wished he would talk about the bridge some more.

As they explored the ruins Adolfo was surprised and assaulted by the King of Dirt (*mud lord). Worse yet, it threw a ball of filth at Adolfo, almost sullying his cloak. It then tried to mate with Adolfo (*envelop… just a grapple attempt), which Adolfo didn’t blame the King of Dirt for… but was horrified by the idea.

Taur hit it hard, flaying a giant chunk of mud off of its side, while Adolfo demoralized it with a blinding display of steel. Elara hexed it with her Eye of Malcontent (*Evil Eye) while Pheobe healed his wounds (though they were mostly emotional wounds to be honest). The King of Dirt threw one final ball of mud, which hit Adolfo’s cloak. Adolfo’s rage showed no bounds and he charged. Taur landed another solid hit. Sushi summoned a giant snake which distracted the filthy fool just long enough for Adolfo to plunge Brine’s Sting deep into its, well, Adolfo guesses it would be its liver but it was honestly just mud. But his anger must have awakened a new power because lightening exploded from his blade reducing the foul pile of sewage into a, well, foul pile of sewage that was no longer moving.

They won the day again! Adolfo boasted of his newfound ability to summon lightening from the Gods, but then Elara explained that she enchanted his blade when he was busy trying to get the mud off his cloak. Of course, Adolfo knew that already and was clearly kidding (*he was not) and asked if she would please do that again in the future.

On the way out the back to a path up to an alter, Adolfo noticed a floating window that was spying on them. Adolfo wanted to taunt them but Sushi asked whoever was watching to let them pass in peace. Again, Adolfo couldn’t help but note what a good guy Sushi was.

On the way out they were attacked by two snakelike skeletons. They danced hypnotically, dazing half the party. Adolfo, not to be outdone, danced back, demoralizing one of them. Adolfo never backs down from a dance battle! The battle was over quickly, with little damage taken by the team.

They made it to the alter and Sushi found some writings and some spoils for the team. The writings droned on about nature stuff and turned into rambling, babbling nonsense (that’s Sushi’s words, not Adolfo’s typical loss of interest in thing he doesn’t care about)

Behind the monastery was another path over a narrow ravine. A small makeshift bridge was the only way across. The Great Adolfo, being a Master of Balance, went across first with intentions of tying off a rope to help the others traverse the gap. Sushi warned him that something was off with the wind but Adolfo shrugged it off and leapt across.

Within seconds the air roared and a massive Wind Titan (*air elemental) appeared. Adolfo’s hat was almost blown off the cliff, and his cloak flared out, threatening to lose hold of his shoulders. He clutched both, one in each hand, making him completely vulnerable as the Titan of the Winds smashed him critically in back-to-back pummeling blows. Adolfo’s world went black.

He awoke to the sounds of battle. His first instinct was to reach for the hat and cloak. Thankfully they were both still there. He heard Pheobe giggling in the background. He glanced back to her on the other side of the ravine. She was giving him a thumbs up, clearly the one who brought him back. A horrifying thought rose in his mind as he clutched at his chest and throat. Breathing… check. Heartbeat…check. Phoebe must have realized what he was thinking because her giggle ended in a snort. She blushed. “You’re still alive Adolfo! Get back in there!”

By then the Titan was all but dead. Taur and the team had done a number on it. Elara gave Adolfo’s blade another charge of electricity and he rammed it home, finishing the job.

Adolfo engineered a rope chain for Pheobe to get across and the team moved on. They arrived at a room tucked in the back of the monastery, overlooking the cliffs. There was a strong, magical lock but Adolfo found a stroke of inspiration and was able to open it for Sushi. Inside was treasure trove of knowledge, though to Adolfo’s chagrin it was all about nature and this religion. Sushi noted a specific line that read “Hymns to the Winds and the Waves” which apparently has some deep meaning.

A hidden nook held a few important papers. One Adolfo recognized as a Scroll of Raise Dead. The second was a note from an old friend of Sushi, some lady named Ninjago (*Nankono). Sushi got very emotional over the letter but Adolfo was more interested in the third paper. It was a detailed map of the Shackles! This was Ninjago’s gift to Sushi, a very powerful and highly illegal item for the Isendrek to hold. Sushi and Adolfo immediately started brainstorming the best way to hide it on board.

They returned to the ship, picking up Pheobe’s undead crab along the way. She blubbered over it and swore she would not leave it again. Sushi and Adolfo made a plan and provisions for the crew to go back and retrieve a large brass bell from the monastery’s tower that added a nice bit of plunder to their hold (3 plunder).

That Jenny Hennesee sea lady asked if we could help her again before we left. The team finally agreed and they set a trap for that other sea lady.

Adolfo had two of the Isendrek’s rowboats pulled up on shore and the team hid behind them. Jenny would lead the bad sea lady in to shore and they’d ambush her. It didn’t work as half of the team can be seen and heard from a mile away so the ambush failed. Apparently, this bad sea lady was supposed to be powerful. She did manage to rain down ice storms onto Taur and Elara, which eventually sent Elara unconscious. But in less than a minute Sushi and Pheobe surrounded bad sea lady with their minions (sharks and undead crabs, oh my!) Taur attended to Elara while Adolfo caught up to the fray and gave her gills a dose of salty goodness, courtesy of Brine’s Sting. The sharks and crab then tore her apart and ate the remains.

Jenny rewarded them with an Unblown Conch, which supplied the team with the ability to summon Plesiosaurs, and the ability to make double entendre puns for days.

She told the team the name of that bad lady was ‘The Lesser’ (*Thalessia). Adolfo noted that name to be a terrible, though incredibly accurate when compared to him. As they sailed away Taur informed him the Island was actually called Warvil’s Folly. Adolfo quipped that it should be renamed to ‘The Lesser’s Folly’. Laughs rolled in… but only from Adolfo himself.

They arrived at their next location on Abadius 14, the Island of Empty Eyes. This was Elara’s request as she had some map from her childhood that she had never had the chance to follow. Never backing away from adventure Taur and Adolfo thought it the perfect location to stop on their way to Port Peril.

What they didn’t expect, was that the city on the map had been swallowed by the sea many years ago, and now their destination lay 300 ft below the waves!

Taur, Phoebe, Sushi and Elara worked out a plan to get everyone the ability to breath underwater and prepare. Adolfo spent the time pinning his hat so that it would stay in place while underwater. They then dove off the ship and descended into the briny unknown… well, they knew the city was there because of the map, but still, pretty mysterious.

The city was fairly expansive, but an architectural marvel stood at its center. A massive recessed amphitheater called out to them like a giant bullseye. As the team descended toward it they realized the pressure would start becoming an issue (but not for Adolfo since his very expensive ring solved that problem for him). They were on a bit on a time clock as the pressure would slowly crush them if they stayed too long.

But as they approached the amphitheater a bunch of fish-faced ruffians (scumm) attacked them. They were no more than a nuisance, as the typical barrage of blades and sharks and crabs and whatnot sent all eight of them floating belly-up in mere seconds.

At the center of the Amphitheater, Sushi and Adolfo were able to figure out what the structure actually was. There were huge broken lenses on gimbals above. They geeked out over the engineering marvel that allowed the lenses to focus sunlight and heat up pools on the edges of the structure. Taur snapped them out of it and quickly reminded them that they were on the clock.

At the center of the recess the floor looked suspicious. Adolfo searched it for traps and assured Sushi that it was safe to explore. Unfortunately, Adolfo was not intuitive enough to realize the floor was an illusion and Sushi inadvertently set off the trap that was indeed there. Adolfo claimed that being underwater threw him off, but he was clearly angry with himself. He disarmed the trap so it would not hurt anyone again and the team descended further.

They entered a spherical center chamber with three paths extending in three directions. There was organic growth everywhere. Sushi quickly realized that they were inside the husk of a long dead, massive creature… the spawn of a God or something, Adolfo stopped listening. They quickly dispatched some mundane sea creatures before hearing cries from one of the passages. They discovered two people that Adolfo learned were ‘respectable fish people’ (*Locatha) that were severely injured and crying for help.

Elara and Sushi, as the kindness of their nature demands, rushed in to help them but it triggered a massive avalanche of organic debris that injured them both significantly. Unfortunately, the ‘respectable fish people’ were also an illusion. At this point the team unilaterally agreed that this place sucked.

They heard chanting coming from another tunnel, which opened to a larger chamber where a strange ritual of some kind was occurring. A group of the bad fish people were standing over an alter where an elderly woman lay unconscious. Adolfo was able to determine that they were using this magic ritual to preserve this woman through some divination. But, regardless, bad fish people need to be dealt with, so the team attacked.

As the team engaged, the battle was halted by the arrival of a giant, fish like thing, that Adolfo recognized to be an abolitionist (*aboleth).

The abolitionist recognized Elara and was very excited to see her. Apparently, the lady on the alter was her grandmother or something and she holds some untold power that can help unravel the secrets of the universe or something. The plan to get Elara here was planned like a hundred years ago and the map was the tool they used to make it happen. Elara was stunned, as were the rest of the team, and she asked a lot of questions. In the end, she had no interest in staying and the abolitionist could not be reasoned with to let her go. Even after he promised to provide her ample amounts of his mucus to ensure she could live underwater forever, Elara still said no… real shocker that this didn’t work to convince her!

The battle resumed. But as the team moved to attack a new bad fish person had snuck in behind them. This bad fish guy wore a robe and introduced himself as ‘Garlic’ or something. Taur gave Adolfo a knowing nod and peeled off to engage him. They would need to divide and conquer as they were the only two that were built for close combat.

Sushi sent sea creatures in both directions, aiding Taur and Adolfo in their individual melees. Giant moray eels emerged to support the bad fish guys. But the team looked to have a good hold on the situation.

But the Abolitionist didn’t play fair! He kept throwing mind attacks at the team. Elara had put an air bubble around Taur’s head, which allowed him to bellow out his inspirational song. That song paid dividends as it bolstered the team’s will to shake off these attempts to control their minds. However, the abolitionist was also able to hypnotize team members with its rhythmic movements. This guy was really annoying. To make matters worse, when Adolfo and Sushi’s sea creatures were finally able to get to him, he winked out of existence… another illusion.

Meanwhile Taur exchanged blows with the garlic guy, who kept using magic to suck the energy out of his foes and heal himself. Sushi finally blew the Unblown Conch, unleashing more sea creatures into the fray and ending a weeklong stint of Unblown Conch jokes, which had already grown stale.

Elara continued to rain misfortune upon their foes, throwing lightning bolts and charging Adolfo’s weapon as she went. The abolitionist reappeared and couldn’t help but oooh and aaah over Elara’s power. It was a bit creepy.

But soon the enemy ranks thinned. Sushi’s manta ray and Adolfo were able to team up and defeat the abolitionist a second time. However, again, he winked out. What a jerk.

Taur finally ended the garlic man and as he fell the voice of the abolitionist floated in…

“I will be keeping an eye on you, Elara!”

And then he was gone.

Elara wanted to take her grandmother’s body to give her proper burial rights. Sushi and Adolfo were more interested in getting the alter out of there, which was clearly very valuable.

The team searched out the rest of the innards of this giant sea beast, eliminate a few more straggling monsters along the way, and then worked with the crew on board the Isendrek to get the alter off of the ocean floor and into their ship’s hold (1 plunder).

And with that, Elara finally had an answer to her lifelong question… or at least part of an answer.

But more importantly, the Isendrek now had enough plunder to sail to Port Peril and take the trials to become Free Captains! With no word from Knox or Battrachus, Taur and Adolfo agreed that they must push on.

They sailed into Port Peril on Abadius 19, and made the declaration of their intentions.

They were met skeptically by some guy. Adolfo could not place his name as it had been a long stretch and he was mentally exhausted. Adolfo nicknamed him ‘Captain Hardass’.

Hardass raked them verbally over the coals for a while in an attempt to either humiliate them or dissuade them from this endeavor. The team took no insult from it, as it was clearly his job and they were sure hundreds of unskilled wannabee pirates had wasted his time over the years.

But a look into the Isendrek’s hold and a quick rundown of the crew’s deeds quickly turned his skeptical look into a lesser version of a skeptical look. He accepted the request.

The three trials began.

The first trial was gambling… a game of liar’s dice played between the officers of the Isenderk as a team and Captain Hardass alone. That old Badger lady from the crew that always smelled like moth balls and nicotine had taught them how to play over the last few days, but it mattered not… the team didn’t need the help… they blew it good and proper… failing the first trial.

Hardass scoffed and figured he was right about the Isendrek and its crew. But Adolfo and Taur stayed optimistic. Adolfo quipped “Of course we are not good liars! When you fight as well as we do and sail as strongly as well, what need do you have for deception!”

Hardass rolled his eyes and walked away, but Adolfo felt satisfied.

The second challenge was combat.

The team set themselves up on the deck of the Isendrek, pondering how this trail would be run. They guessed that some pirates would be lined up on board for them to fight and they began setting up their formation and coordinating a plan. But all of a sudden, the ship lurched and a huge behemoth of a Fish Ogre (*Marsh Giant) climbed on board behind them.

They were not ready. Sushi smartly cast a spell that rained gravel all over the beast and the area around him on the rear deck. This injured the Fish Ogre a bit and limited his ability to move. Adolfo noted how smart of a move it was as now they had time to adjust before it could close in a start raining down blows with its giant, bloated fish hands.

However, to their dismay the beast lifted up some huge rocks and started hurling them at the team. Elara and Taur were injured badly but fought on. The team rushed to meet the fish ogre head on but not before it unleashed a few more rocks.

But the second Taur and Adolfo were able to get up close, the fish ogre’s time was over. Two back to back strikes from Adolfo and Taur left him salty, perforated and lifeless.

Adolfo noticed that Hardass was impressed and took a liking to Taur, wondering why he was not the Captain of the Isendrek instead of the non-present Captain Knox who’s absence he noted many times. Adolfo was a little jealous that he didn’t seem to notice his own exploits. Either way, apparently the fish ogre’s name was ‘Pork Sandwich’ or something and Hardass was impressed that they had won.

The team passed the combat trial!

Last was seamanship, though this would be a simulated sea battle.

The goal was to load three cannons and shoot three submerged targets as they floated to the surface while simultaneously unfurling the three main sails of the Isendrek, all in less than a minute. Since Phoebe was unavailable to help as she had pressing matter to attend to with her crab, the team was short-handed.

Taur managed the sails while Adolfo and Sushi loaded the cannons. Elara served as senior officer, calling out inspiration and derision to help direct and motivate the others. They worked as a well-oiled machine. Taur climbed all three masts one after the other unfurling their masts as he went. Just as Adolfo would get a cannon ready, Sushi would use his keen eyes to spot the barely visible targets below the waves and point them out. Adolfo shot 3 times and hit each target on the first try. Elara on numerous occasiosn, caught a mistake or threw out a warning that would have caused disaster.

It was beautiful.

And with that, the team passed the last trial!

Two out of Three. The team figured they lost but made a good showing. With Knox and Battrachus they could likely easily win the next time they tried.

But Hardass pulled them to the side. He went on and on about appearances and how he wants to pass the team but rules are rules, blah blah blah. It became apparent that they had done good enough, but a bribe would be needed to overlook the failed trail.

The officer’s of the Isendrek were happy to donate 2 plunder to the Hurricane King for his hospitality.

That night, the team was summoned to meet Kerdack Bonefist himself at a huge party he was holding.

Little did the team know that this was actually one last trial… and this one was about bragging!

Adolfo’s time had come!!!

With his comrades at his side he began to regale the room with the Tales of the Isendrek. On many occasions, hecklers tried to derail and debunk his story. But Adolfo was an expert in this arena, and Taur and Elara stepped in to retort against the hecklers and allow Adolfo to work. Adolfo’s cloak glowed as the story built, and the room became more and more entranced. The Hurricane King sat stoic, though Adolfo could sense the twinge of a smile on the corners of his mouth.

In the end Adolfo has executed the greatest oratory performance of his life, and with the support of his comrades the room was electrified (+5 infamy).

The trials were done and Kerdak Bonefist, Hurricane King of the Shackles formally declare the Officer’s of the Isendrek, Free Captains of the Shackles…

And they even have the paperwork to prove it!

Afterward

The story was done. Adolfo looked around the room. The patrons were all leaving. The bartender was rousing any of the asleep or unconscious to make them go home.

Adolfo’s throat was sore and his hand almost ached from all the handshakes and fist bumps he had received as the crowd broke up.

But he was happy. It was a great story, and a great audience. But he had things to ponder.

He had left out what happened after the trails. How a crimson haired beauty named Tessa Fairwind had called for them to visit her. She had plied them all with outstanding food and drink and unwavering interest in their words (more specifically Taur’s words). She was a charmer… and as a charmer himself, Adolfo knew that was part of her job. She was a bigwig in the Shackles… the leader of Quent, though she wasn’t in Quent back when they had visited.

She was asking for their help. Apparently, some spies from Chelliax may have infiltrated the Shackles and she was hoping they could help verify the truth to these rumors and root them out if necessary. She gave them some leads but there were a lot of items left on the Isendrek’s long ‘to-do’ list.

“Ah but that is to be sorted out with my friends tomorrow” he said to himself “this night belonged to The Great Adolfo!”

He stopped by the bar to say farewell to the bartender before leaving. The bartender nearly shook his arm off in thanks for all the business and the gold.

Adolfo was walking on air. He glided to the door. He had no idea what time it was. He was just glad that the 2 week quarantine was up and that the crew was able to finally enjoy the port. He walked outside and saw the sun threatening to pop up out of the ocean at any moment.

The morning of 2 Calistral.

Something caught his eye as he glanced at the bulletin board at the side of the tavern door. In the dim light he had to lean in to get a closer look

And in the next moment there was panic! Then darkness…

The next thing Adolfo remembered was a blinding headache as he tried shaking the world back into view… but where was he? His senses started coming back as the wooden slats of a dock came into view. He was on his hands and knees, the taste of vomit in his mouth. He glanced around and confirmed that he had thrown up a little to the left of him. He glanced back and saw that he wasn’t far from the tavern.

“Oh no.” he thought to himself.

He had lost time again.

What was this fear he was feeling, and all this anger? Where was it coming from? He wasn’t that drunk at all… had he been poisoned?

The only answer lie below him. A lone piece of paper lay on the dock, his hand on a dagger that was driven through it with force, embedded in the wooden plank below. The numerous holes on it suggested he had stabbed it at least a dozen or so times… but what was it?

He calmed himself and stood up, returning the dagger to his belt and lifting the paper up to read it.

It was a flyer titled “Weatherby School of Excellence”

This title meant nothing to Adolfo’s mind, but his gut told him different. He hated this place.

Words jumped out at him “Academy for Gifted Youth”, “Rigorous Training in Body and Mind”, “Potential becomes Power”.

His body began to hurt… phantom pains of slices and burns. These pains totally foreign to Adolfo’s mind but very familiar to his flesh and bones.

Adolfo folded up the paper and put it in his breast pocket. He then took out his handkerchief and wiped the vomit from his mouth and threw it aside. He straightened his shirt and cloak and brushed the dust off the knees of his pantaloons. One last adjustment to his hat and he was fine again. It looks like no one had seen.

He was ok.

He was The Great Adolfo!

And for some reason, unknown to him…

The Weatherby School must burn!

Session 10: Wherein my players explore two of their maps (I asked each player to start the game with a treasure map and possibly a story on how they got it). For Sushi's map I used a piece of the Plunder and Peril adventure, and for Elara's map I used a piece of the From Shore to Sea adventure. Then the player's strolled into Port Peril to start book 3 as expected in the Adventure Path...this one was written by the player of the Great Adolfo

Crew Update

Crew duties at end of session:

Isendrek (39+7 PCs = 46):
rosie cuswell
barefoot samms toppin
fluhtred
claw
sandra quinn
owlbear hartshorn
songer
baaka
ambrose kroop
breaker bones
conchobhat turlach shortstone
randy dandy
guitard
giffer tibbs
badger medlar
crimson cog cogward
Professor Buttcavage
Stabsy Thistlewink
Red-itch rick
David faraget
Nome de guere
Dad murderin-Jim
Baeg McBaeg
Captain Inspector Riggle Safety McGee
Quent 15

Tidewater Rock:
Quent 4
4 original TWR guards

Thresher:
Thresher 15

Crew duties at end of session:

Isendrek (24+7 PCs = 31):
rosie cuswell
barefoot samms toppin
fluhtred
claw
sandra quinn
owlbear hartshorn
songer
baaka
ambrose kroop
breaker bones
conchobhat turlach shortstone
randy dandy
guitard
giffer tibbs
badger medlar
crimson cog cogward
Professor Buttcavage
Stabsy Thistlewink
Red-itch rick
David faraget
Nome de guere
Dad murderin-Jim
Baeg McBaeg
Captain Inspector Riggle Safety McGee

Tidewater Rock:
Quent 4
4 original TWR guards

Thresher:
Quent 15
Thresher 15

In college I had a player make a ranger Morning Wood!

My second favorite player name (after Don Hastily).

Party after session 9:
Taur'Thalian Sigtrygrrson: L6 Half-elf skald (Dragon skald)
Sushi: L6 Tengu druid (shark-shaman) of Hei Feng
Batrachus: L1 Boggard brawler (wild child)/L6 Hunter
Elara Variel: L6 Human witch (fey-touched hexer)
The Great Adolfo: L6 Human swashbuckler (Inspired blade)
Lawrence "Hard" Knox: L6 Half-orc ranger (Divine tracker)
Phoebe Flynn: L6 Human cleric (Undead lord)

We just finished book 2. A few adjustments I made that turned out pretty well...

1. At character creation I told each character they would start with a treasure map. They could either incorporate it into their back story, or I would make something up. After Book 1, I had them make knowledge geography checks to identify the spot of their treasure map on the Shackles map (I used the black and white map that doesn't have names - after the players in game found that map). It makes the campaign more open-ended when there are more places to go then time. So far, my party did one. They found Mr. Ripples. I used a modified version of the PFS adventure Beneath Unbroken Waves. And I determined Mr. Ripples provides strong cloaking to the ship when installed (DC30 Caster Level check to have divination like scry or track ship spells work).
2. I offered my players 3 places to squibb the ship. Krakens Cove (using Krakens Cove from the Savage Tide Adventure path), Rickety Squib (from Raiders of the Fever Sea), or Lilywhite (from Plunder and Peril). Each would have played out differently with different adventures. My players ended up going to Kraken's Cove. I made it a bit strategic too. Kraken's Cove was the cheapest, but they expected to be more DIY (make your own carpentry checks), Rickety Squibb just like the book. Lilywhite was not just for squibbing but for character shopping too, but you had to have the guts to sail right into the Shackles.
3. I added my own custom ship combat system. I'm happy with it. I don't know how to share it. But I think any system that A) gets all the players involved, and B) makes the players care about upgrading the ship - does the job.
4. I charge my players a port fee and a quarantine time every time they dock, with higher port fees for larger cities. Free Captains pay less, and the Pirate council still less. This lets you give a tangible benefit to becoming a Free Captain and then a Council Member that your players will feel.
5. Each settlement has a settlement point score based on the size of the settlement. A thorp is 1 point, a metropolis 7 (it is just reading the size of settlements in Pathfinder from top to bottom). That matters. The most infamy checks you can try in a port is the number of settlement points before you have to shove off. The most crew recruitment checks you can attempt in a port is the settlement points before you have to shove off. And the most plunder you can spend on ship upgrades is the number of settlement points before you have to shove off.
6. I made the attack on Tidewater Rock a mass combat. I had players run the crew members and the Tidewater Rock guards. I ran the attacking pirates and the sauaghain. I used a really simple system for NPC vs. NPC fighting. Roll a d8 and if you get an "8" you kill your enemy. Anything else is ineffective. Some NPCs get a bonus to hit (letting them use a d6 or even a d4 - you really just need to roll the highest number on whatever die your rolling), some had a penalty (e.g., you need a 10 on a d10), and some had better defense (which shifted the die your opponent used up). I had a couple NPCs (e.g., Royster) able to take a few hits. Any system will do but I recommend something simple but one that really lets the battle play out. It was a great session.
7. The Dungeon Magazine adventure Tammeraught's Fate fits well in this book. I added it after my players arrived on Windward Isle. Agasta agreed to marry a PC if they could find out what happened to her trading partners at Firewatch Isle a few miles to the east.

Session Nine - Wherein my players travel to Mancatcher Cove and recover Cyrus Wolfe's treasure...this one is written from the perspective of Ratline who died last session. Ratline was extra special because he gave more bonuses than normal crew in my custom ship combat mini game, but he died during the attack on Tidewater Rock last session.

Gods, she’s beautiful. She was beautiful the day they took her, and she’s only grown since. Sleek lines, tight canvas, a hull that rides low and fast—she’s become a true ship of the Shackled Seas. And she sings, still. I can hear her in the creak of her timbers and the snap of her sails. And when the crew scrambles to their posts with the wind at their backs and the sun on the water… she's a true dragon of the seas, and we, her riders.

I’ve been watching. Every haul of line, every swing of boom. I see the work of my old hands in the rigging still—taught others how to splice them right. It’s all still tight, clean, seaworthy. Captain would be proud. Is proud.

He don’t talk much, and when he does it’s rough as sand in your grog. But he loves that ship—loves her more than most men love family. I saw it in the way he’d pace the deck just before dawn, checking lines, checking trim. I saw it in the way he stared at the horizon like it might blink first. And he loved me, in his way. A nod after a clean tack, a grunt when the gun was laid just right. That was more than praise from Knox. That was trust. You could build a whole rigging on that trust.

And when he fell at Tidewater Rock—cut down by Isabella Locke’s cursed magic—I felt the crew tremble. But he didn’t stay dead for long.

Phoebe brought him back. I watched her raise him like it was nothing. Just another bit of magic from the woman who forgets to eat but remembers how to call the dead from the sea floor. And as soon as Knox had breath in his lungs again, he said it: “Let’s follow those f!#@ers.”

That’s my captain.

The crew didn’t hesitate. Not a one. They moved like the tides had spoken.

Lines were cast off. Cannons loaded. Sails hoisted in perfect time. It was a thing of beauty. Even the new blood knew their places. The Isendrak surged forward under full press of sail, chasing the Thresher across the black waters. Through the night, they followed her—Knox guiding her by the stars and the shape of the swells alone. Taur'Thalion at the wheel, a pilot-god as the storm blew itself out.

Morning of Kuthon Two broke with cannon fire. And gods, did she bark! Batrachus served the Uldergun, his beady eyes sighting along the spotless metal of her great barrel. Taur'Thalion winched the catapult. Elara rested her soft hands on the wheel as the sun crested the infinite horizon. Phoebe called out from the crowsnest - bless her ungainly courage being up there. I worried about her falling, but there was no need.

With a thump and boom, the artillery let fly. Again, and again, the Captain and Elara brought the ship into range, angled just right. The Thresher cracked and groaned under shot and stone. A white flag went up.

No one blinked. They boarded.

Batrachus hit the deck like a thunderclap. That frog-man’s got the muscles of a dozen oarsmen and the faith of a mad prophet. I always thought him strange, with his shrine to Gogunta in the bilge—candles bobbing in barrels, swamp-smelling trinkets lashed to the bulkheads. He claimed she watched over our keel. Maybe she did.

He fought like a zealot. Eubels by his side, a wall of hippo hide and iron discipline. The two of them faced Knuckles Grype, a bare-fisted brawler who could shake a mast with a punch. Eubels took the blows without flinching. Batrachus drove his spear through gaps in Grype’s guard. And Taur’Thalion finished their work with a great blow from behind.

Taur’s a strange one—all ancient blood and deep song. I’ve seen the way the crew look at him when he sings, eyes sharp, backs straighter. He’s no mere bard. He carries something old inside him. A fire lit beneath glaciers. He brought that pike down on Grype like he was splitting a mountain.

Phoebe, for her part, fought in her own way. Cold as the grave and twice as precise. Her spells curled like mist, burning the life from the enemy officers. Boomer, her latest pet, crunched into enemy officers with dispassionate efficiency.

Elara was brilliant as ever. A vision in motion—calm, beautiful, deadly. She didn’t waste a gesture. Her spells crackled, her mind never stopped working. There’s a grace to her that’s rare on the sea. Not just pretty—commanding. The kind of woman sailors would follow off the edge of the map. I’ve seen it. I felt it.

And then there’s Sushi. That bird summons storms with a smirk. Calls sharks like most men call dogs. Cool-headed, quick-fingered, always one step from the shadows. He doesn’t need a spotlight. Just give him a second and an opening, and he’ll change the whole battle.

Together, they took the Thresher. No crew lost. None. Shame they couldn't have done so well at the Rock, but I was proud - they had learned.

But the sea's a brutal master and, while sailing back to the Rock, they were assaulted by savage Manticores. The crew did their bit, serving the ballistae and cannon, smashing 'em as they flew by. Poor Phoebe - one beastie flung spikes from its tail an cut down her disgusting, unnatural, crab in mere moments. Poor flyers, one landed on the deck of the Thresher. A mistake. With a deep gulping cry, Batrachus and Eubels pounced. Manticores is tough, certain enough, but once that pair are on opposite sides of ya - you're frog-food.

Knox waited by Elara's side, guarding the pilot. With a gentle touch, like a sweet caress, the beautiful sea-maiden gifted his great bow with the power of the storm. When a manticore flew into range, the bow twanged; once, twice, the arrows flew straight, pregnant with witchy lightning. That beastie never knew what hit him. The rest were either chased off or succumbed to attacks from the crew, but not before Batrachus and Eubels misjudged the distance between ships and, eager as ever for more blood, leapt off one ship, ran in midair for a moment, and then plunged into the sea. Oh, thank you Besmara for this parting gift. I'll treasure it.

I watched them sail home, saw them take to repairs like master shipwrights. I saw Knox push the crew and himself, driving them harder because he knew we might not get another chance. Sushi led the work, and the new sailors followed orders sharp and quick. Phoebe raised her manticores from the dead. Elara wept a bit, for the departed, I think. Taur’Thalion played music at sunset, luring secrets from Songer’s lips about a murder and a mystery that waits like a shadow over his past. The ship was alive in ways she never was before. She had heart. Soul. Family.

When they reached Mancatcher Cove, I followed.

I saw Batrachus and Eubels carry others up the cliffs. Saw Phoebe ride an undead beast with glee. Knox bore Elara like she weighed nothing, cradling her supple form in his great arms. The caves were dark and deep. They entered like whispers in the water.

The fighting was harsh. I didn't like to see it, but understood the need. Sahaugin, sharks, civilians. It wasn’t clean. Batrachus reveled in it. Phoebe, too. Sushi kept the carnage precise. Elara and Taur’Thalion were quieter, uneasy. But they did what needed doing. Knox… he was cold vengeance, pure and steady. He didn’t kill with rage—he killed with purpose. For me. For Tidewater Rock. For the Isendrak. Despite growing water pressure, and fading reserves, they pressed on.

And when they faced Kelloort the chieftain, there was no hesitation. Eubels held the line. Sushi summoned the beasts of the deep. Elara gave Taur air to sing, and he did—his song filling the sea like a rising tide. Phoebe burned their foes with necrotic flame. Batrachus brought spear and greatsword, one with his god. And Knox finished it. Killing their boss and one of his concubines. The room fell silent.

They found treasure. Secrets. Magic. A matriarch of the Locathah, freed. A lich nearby. A passage to unknown depths they were not yet ready to face. There’s always another mystery, isn’t there?

They took their spoils back to the ship. Celebrated with the crew as is right an proper. They stepped into the cove and killed the remaining sea devils there - a patrol - and then back into the caves for one last push.

And there they found him—an undead pirate captain, chained with anchor and memory. He rose, struck down most of the crew with a gaze. My Captain held the line, alone, with shield and trident, until the others broke free and brought their strength to bear.

The sea tried one last time to swallow them.

It failed.

They now hold thirteen plunder - too much for the holds. Four they hid deep, as is proper. Fifty-eight crew remain - nearly a full complement. Thirteen marks of infamy. The seas know their names.

And now, I think, I can go.

They didn’t fall apart without me. They grew sharper. Stronger. Better.

I was a rigger, and I was proud.

I was a sailor, and, at the end, I was Stormrider true.

I go now to the sea beyond all shores.

Fair winds, Stormriders. Keep her shipshape for old Ratline.

Party Infamy Remains: 12

Not sure why but my players started some post-battle role-playing over email which I am capturing here....

KNOX POST BATTLE REACTION:
As Phoebe's words fade, and the last spell carved into driftwood summons Knox back to the material plane, his body shudders, he gasps a breath; he opens his eyes.

Confusion. Awareness. Fury.

"Thank you, Bosun." Knox carefully says to Phoebe, as healing magic restores his burned and shattered body. He rises and looks around, "you are all to be commended for wotever you done to win. Report. Tell me everyfing."

The Captain listens, occasionally flexing his limbs as his wounds stitch together. His eyes bore into each speaker, taking in their words like breath.

"Very well." He rises stiffly. "Dismissed."

---

Four hours. Knox orders a sack of grain hoisted from the yardarm and empties his quiver into it. Over. And over. He orders the sack be made to sway, to fly, to pitch and rise. Over and over, his great longbow twangs, the arrows rip through the air and thud into the sack. Every miss can be read in his posture. Rage. Cold, calculating, turned inward. The workers on the dock wince every time an arrow hisses past the target. On the ship, Ratline lays a stalling arm on Elara's shoulder as she takes a step toward the Captain. He quietly shakes his head, no. Four hours. Knox shoots, the muscles in his back bunching and releasing. His left forearm bruises with the snap of the bowstring - eventually a single black patch spreads from wrist to elbow. His fingers crack and bleed. Again. Another quiver. Over. And over.

Then, suddenly, he is done. He unstrings his bow and walks toward his cabin. "Officers meetin in twenty minutes!" he bellows just before his door crashes shut.

---

"Let's start wif wot went well." Knox stands at the head of the table in his greatroom at the stern of the Isendrak. The room is spacious, but feels too close - no air, not enough room. The Captain's eyes burn. He lays his hands, the left still bloody and cracked, on the table.

"We lived. An you saw fit to bring me back. I'm roight grateful for it. A'int all crews bring back their Cap'n when they see a chance for promotion." He looks over at Taur'Thallion and Elara. "You two done well. You bolstered the crew - magicked some folks to sleep, slit their throats. Efficient-like. Well done." He looks to Ratline, "Crew done well - better 'an anyone. They stuck togever, cleared the ship, killed the mage. Proper. Extra ration o' grog all round this evening." He looks around the table. "Plenty o heroic s%&*e all round, an we're still breathin. That's worth takin some pride."

Knox draws himself up and folds his arms, leaving a red handprint on the table.

"But we lost crew wot didn't have to die, and we nearly lost the battle because we was dumb." He points to an assortment of food, tankards, and plates on the table that - upon scrutiny - clearly reflect the harbor, fortress, and ship... the battlefield.

"We wos spread out and caught by surprise. Mistake one. We should have put a chain across the harbor mouth - or a lookout - or a tripwire - sommat wut would let us know a f@&+in great skiff packed with pirates was comin in our f&$*in home port." His eyes blaze. "Dumb."

"Once s%&#e started hap'ning, we shoulda ran for da ship or da Rock. We shoulda left the vines, kid, and guard as bait, and cleared the deck sos we could bring our ballista into da foight." Knox turns his stare to Batrachus, "and, yeah, big lad, I know you got a clutch of young'uns in dat grove, but I'll ask you ta give this a think... I saw you go down, you and sweet Eubels - there's a good girl" Knox scratches the adolescent hippo, carefully squeezed under the table, behind her left ear. "Thass your favorite spot, isn't it girlie?" He looks back up. "Ahem. Point is, you almost died... for good. If we'd lost dat battle, and da Rock been taken, wouldn't none of us be breathing air today and your great quest for Gogunta? Over. Finished. An, worse, Taur had to pull from the ship to help - that cost us crew wot he was inspirin'."

Knox takes a deep breath.

"I ain't a fool. We've all got stuff- things wot are important to us - but none of it matters if we all die because we're dumb. We get caught out again like this - spread all over - first thing we do is tighten up. If we can get to da ship, we get dere, if not, we foind each other. Them's standing orders, savvy?"

Knox looks around and latches on to Adolfo, "Great foighting, lad. Truly. I thought you wus roight f%@&ed; outnumbered on dat beach. An you came to da Rock an held her wif Royce. Proper. I won't forget."

His eyes flick to Sushi, "Lightning, gator, tangle, you probably saved us from complete loss. I won't forget."

Batrachus. "You an me, we f#*+ s+@~ up. Ain't glorious, but it gets the job done. I saw you, big lad. I won't forget.

"Taur, you made our crew f#%@nig heroes yesterday, den you threw yourself in 'arm's way to save the big lad. I won't forget."

"Lass." He looks at Elara. "Your magics grow more potent every damn day. Wifout you, that mage woulda done even more harm. An puttin folks to sleep wut are fighting is roight smart and proper. I won't forget."

"Phoebe, sorry you was sick with crabs, but roight pleased you're back in da fight again."

Knox pulls a large ledger toward himself, opens it, and wets a quill.

"When officers fail in dere duty, havta be consequences. We failed our crew, and them wuts died don't have no fancy scroll to bring em back. Least we can do's honor them with fair and roight punishment.

"Three lashes each - not you Phoebe - to honor them wut's dead, remind us our duty, and show the crew ain't no one above the rules on dis ship."

He looks around, as if daring anyone to speak.

"But... Oim da Captain, an I f*+@ed up worst of all. Was me at the top of the Rock. Me wut could see the battle unfolding. Me wut coulda told you all to toighten up." His face grows rigid, and his body shakes in anger. "Me.. my fault.

"So, I'll take your lashes this toim, 'cause thass roight and propa. Them crew wut died is on me."

He nods, eyes thunderous.

"I won't forget."

BATTRACHUS RETORT:
Battrachus approaches Nox with his half hop, half waddling gait. He stretches himself up to something approximating his full height to look Nox in the eyes. It is easy to forget how large Battrachus can be when he wants to.

"The world is a dangerous place captain. And people die. It's the law of the swamp. The law of the jungle. And the law of the sea. And the places it ain' t the law are just lyin' about it. The crew isn't made up of volunteers. They ain't farmers or fishermen. They signed up to be crew. They signed up to be Stormriders. They signed up to work the Isendrek. They signed up to be f!~~ing pirates. And some are gonna get hurt. They didn't want to die, they should have fought harder. Or been more clever. Or more viscious. And the survivors will see what happened to them, and learn. Us included. But that's where it ends.

We'll replace the fallen. WIth folks who will be as good or better. And if they ain't, they'll die, and we'll replace them. But that's the job. That's what it means to be chief. Or captain. The path to greatness is always paved in blood. If you are gonna beat yourself up, or even threaten to beat one of us up. every time something goes wrong, you may be in the wrong profession. Or at least on the wrong boat.

The world is a scary place. This ain't a nursery. We are here for power. For riches. For wealth. You got beaten down. It happens. You gonna let it emasculate you? Or is it gonna make you meaner?

KNOX RETORT:
nox doesn't puff up. If anything, he looks more relaxed than he has in a day. He grins, "This one's been a long time coming, ain't it?"

"Big lad, you're an idiot and a hypocrite. 'Ere you are, talking big about survival an' everyone bein' on der own to make it or die. I'll take dis puh-ticular moment ta remind you dat if we all followed your creed, you'd be dead more times den anone else in dis crew and your Gogunta roight f+&#ed out of her prophet, or whatever you call yourself. You're alive because your f&+%ing crew saved your warty ass time and time again after you went down... same as me.

"Working together... dat's what makes us great. Pulling toward one goal. A single mind. Loyal. If we followed your reasoning, you'd be dead many times over."

Knox leers at Batrachus, his eyes glowing. "It ever occur to you dat da reason your folk never made it in the real f*@@in' world is 'cause you act like f+&#ing animals? No loyalty. No trust. No f~!%ing CREW!! Know why you're still even alive in da swamps? BECAUSE NO ONE F+$&ING WANTS TO GO THERE!"

"You can spread all da seed you want, big lad, but if you an your people can't work together, you're f#~*ed. That's why I ain't worried you laid your brood on my island. Most of 'em will eat each other. By the time they's grown, they'll be two left. Your plan? It's stupid.

"And I ain't afraid of stupid."

Knox steps a hair closer.

"It ever occur to you why your Gogunta spat you out inta dis world? You fink it's just to spread your seed and watch it grow? F%+& me, big lad, but you're thick. Fink your brood will stand against Cheliax Marines? Hmm?

"Maybe, just maybe, your great lady Gogunta sent you out here to learn why your people haven't done f+$* all in millenia. Maybe she's onto sommat you haven't copped to yet - you need to adapt."

"Or.. you can stay an idiot, and next time you fall, we'll just leave you there 'cause you shoulda fought harder an' all that b~%~+@+s." Knox gives Eubels a pat, "we'll bring da hippo back safe, though."

Knox begins to turn, "Your choice, big lad. You can tell me you want to be crew anytime. Until then, I'll treat you like an animal and you'll lie where you fall."

He turns back and steps real close.

"'An one more thing..." Knox draws himself to his full 6'7", topknot scraping the beams above, "if your Captain decides you merit punishment, you'll take it like a f~~&ing champ, or else I'll show you to exactly what it means to be backed up by a f!!&ing crew that feels taken care of and valued."

BATTRACHUS RETORT:

Batrrachus puffs himself up. He cannot match Knox’s height, but he has him on girth, and general jowliness. What’s left of his affable thugishness seems to drop away.

‘That’s true, captain. I’m alive because this crew brought me back. Cuz I’m useful. I stand in a fight, I take a hit, and I hit back hard. I stand in front of the people who can't take a hit, but can do other useful things. I don’t run. I don’t back down. Unless something is bigger and stronger. Because it's stupid starting fights you can’t win. You survive. You get bigger and stronger and meaner. And then... then you revisit the issue.

The swamp is hard. But it breeds good sense. Swamp sense. And a good crew invests in things that are strong and sensible. If I had no value, I wouldn’t be worth bringing back. That’s a privilege you gots to earn. And you’ll note, for the record, I backed returning Sushi from the dead. Cuz he’s useful. And Taur. And Adolpho and Elara and Pheobe. And I was in favor of bringing you back too. Because up until now you’ve been useful. A good captain. One that smelled of the swamp.

But this crying ain’t becoming. It’s weak, and it's posturing And the swamp doesn’t have time for posturing. You know how I know you don't mean it. Because while you made a pretty speech about how much that dead crew meant to you, not once did you suggest we bring em back. We got the gold. But you would rather spend that money on something useful. As you should! That is what a good captain would do. That’s how he looks after the survivors. The ones worth keeping around. Treat your crew right captain, and they'll be loyal. But don't punish them because you're upset someone one-upped you. That's downright Harrigan of you, Captain.

I see you trying to draw blood by threatening my brood. But your blade hasn't been honed by the wisdom of the swamp. You're right...by the time my brood is grown, there may just be one or two of em left. But that's the point. There will just be one or two. But they will be hard. And strong. And they will make Gogunta proud. They'll be the kind of Boggard you want on a crew. The kind that can reshape their immediate vicinity.

Regional prominence comes from strength. From culling the weak. From doubling down on the strong. And the strong test themselves, maybe even unto death. And the living judge. Thats their right as survivors. To ask the question 'is this one worth bringing back? Is there still greatness to come? And will their greatness make me great?' You’ll bring me back because I am going to pave the way to the future you want. Because your seat on the pirate council will come with me manning your guns. With me being the first person crossing the span between ships and drawing first blood when we board.

Well, Adolpho may beat me to it. He is fast, and hard. A good guy to have on a crew. And you've got quite a few good ones here. If I were you, captain, I'd be worried about how you're gonna keep em.

I left the swamp because I had aspirational but achievable dreams that could be met within the local environs of the Shackles. So do all your officers. And those dreams led us here. They got us this ship. And we made you captain of that ship because we believed you'd help us get further. And we'd help you in return. That's the bargain. None of us are here to babysit the weak. We are here to foster the strong. Those are swamp family values.

The swamp isn't a place for fantasy, so lets not pretend there won't be blood. The swamp knows anything worth having takes blood. So lets not lie to each other. You're mad you got beat. Good. You should be mad. No captain should accept failure. Next time you'll be more ruthless. You are mad we got jumped. Good. You should be mad. Next time we'll be more careful. But you're not mad that some people died. At least I hope not. Because people are gonna die on this journey. There's no way around it. And you need to be hard. Swamp hard. And the swamp doesn't cry over crew whose names we can't even remember. It don't cry over crew who didn't even have a song they sang while they worked for a bit of instant characterization. This ship can only hold so many bodies. I suggest we make em count.

Taur knows a lot of songs, and a lot of stories. And a lot of people die in those stories. And most of those people aint got names. They ain't remembered. Because they weren't worth remembering. You cry for the ones worth remembering, and you let the rest go. Otherwise you're gonna accomplish nothing because you is afraid to take a risk. Or you're gonna accomplish nothing and drag the rest of us down because you're too busy crying to be great. And you need to be tough, Captain. Swamp tough'.

Battrachus clasps Knox on the shoulder. It's a firm gesture, but not an assertion of dominance. 'Now, if I can be dismissed, captain, there is a beach full of dead sharkmen and pirates who stuck their noses where they don't belong. That's a lot of meat, and I aim to do some feasting, in honor of our dead.

But don't worry. I aim to cook em first. I mean, I'm not an animal.'

Battrachus turns and begins to walk away. As he does, he says 'And Eubels is a boy. If that confuses you I suggest you find where you put your cock and remember what they look like.'

KNOX RETORT:
"You go ahead an' eat, big lad." Knox appears to remain relaxed. "You've 'ad your say, and I've 'ad mine. Disagreement's part of piratin' - even childish insults."

He looks around the room at the gathered officers. "Good thing about a ship and crew - they gots their own minds wot can be made up. They've 'eard your bit an' mine. They can chew on it a while, and decide if they'd prefer a change in 'ow dis ship is run."

He heaves out a deep breath, "This ain't about folk dying - dat s@@% happens all the time. This is about doin' things smart and proper. Of course crew die - dats pirating - but it ain't okay if they die needlessly. An' I'm pretty sure you agree, big lad. We don't want to waste resources wut are useful to us. An' punishment? Pain's a great teacher - drives 'ome the lesson, don't it?"

Knox begins to unstrap his breastplate. "You go on an' feast. I'll be up on the deck takin' lashes so's I, at least, remember our mistakes an don't make the same ones again. Dat's 'ow greatness is built."

He lays the breastplate gently on an amor rack bolted to the floor. The whip-scars on his back ripple beneath his musculature.

"An Eubels might look a boy to you, but deep down in her secret places, she's yearns ta be a lady."

Adolfo’s Musings – The Failed Siege at The Rock
Adolfo sat in the waning sunlight, feet up, drink in hand, as he recounted the day’s events. He sipped the sweet, mead-like concoction that bee fellow had made for him. It was quite the benefit to have fresh honey on demand out at sea. One of the many perks to having such a weird mix of characters on this crew.
He smiled to himself. This was his kind of ship… strange and unpredictable. Truly exciting!
Samdara had dozed off next to him, her head resting lazily on his shoulder.
She was a good girl. So beautiful, and smart.
They had been walking on the beach when the ambush hit. She had listened when he told her to run for the ship. She had hesitated, her loyalty and love holding her just long enough to make his heart swell, but his steely glare and knowing nod told her not to argue.
That other fool on the beach wasn’t quite as smart, lingering long enough to take a blade to the gut. He should have listened to Adolfo. Or better yet, he should have stayed back in Quent and studied up on the value of listening to his betters. Hahaha the fool!
But, for some reason, strangely, this fool’s death seemed to bother him. And not for the reason he expected. Yes, of course, the man was a complete idiot for not following the orders of possibly the greatest pirate to ever exist. But, in the back of his mind, there was remorse… a slight tugging on his heart. Who was that man? Did he have a family back home? He looked so scared when he died.
A quick swig of drink and a shake of the head cleared away that nonsense.
He smiled at the memory of the battle on the beach… five on one! Impossible odds! And then to stand at the castle doors… the odds even worse! The result, either a true miracle or a true pirate’s death! Either way, an adventure! Another story Taur could sing in praise of the Great Adolfo! His heart pounded at the thought of it. He shuddered a bit in excitement.
Samdara shifted in her sleep and nuzzled deeper into his shoulder, hugging his arm. She had wept when she finally saw him again on the ship. She slapped him for being so reckless and showered him with kisses a moment after.
Reckless, crazy… she used those words so often with him. She was always pleading with him to be more careful… to play it safer. So they could have a long future together.
He recalled having responded “Haha, my dear! You do not become ‘Great’ by playing it safe! Would you prefer to share your bed with The Mediocre Adolfo?!”
She had laughed and acquiesced. She wouldn’t admit it, but she loved his recklessness, almost as much as it scared her.
But a deeper, more powerful thought pulled at the back of his mind, and no drink or shake of the head would dismiss it so easily.
There was a moment on the beach. Following the flurry of steel and blood, the screams of dying men and the booming voice of ‘El Capitan’ thundering in from above.
He lost time again.
One moment, he was staring into the face of that last scallywag, watching the man’s life slowly drain away as his body slid off the rapier’s blade. The next moment he was at the edge of the water, empty potion in hand. He watched as around a dozen or more marauders streamed down the unfinished docks towards the Rock’s front doors.
His emotions had taken a turn, going from sheer excitement to… something else. He was concerned. He was hesitant.
He was afraid.
He stared at the empty potion bottle in his hand… Invisibility. He quickly confirmed that he had already vanished from sight. Thoughts of escaping swirled in his head… run to the ship and sail away, hide under that dingy sitting further up the beach, just jump in the ocean and swim out to sea. Just somehow, some way, get out of there!
These feelings were foreign, and frustrating. He hadn’t lost time like this in so long. It must have only been a few seconds. And why in Besmara’s name did he drink this potion? Surely not to flee! He decided to chastise himself aloud to snap out of it. That always seemed to help.
“The Great Francis… Frankie…” he stammered, choking on these strange names that had no meaning to him whatsoever. His anger boiled over as he threw down the bottle and slapped himself across the face.
“The Great Adolfo never runs!” he bellowed as he dove into the water and headed toward the front door.
The dramatic reveal of coming out of invisibility to face the shocked faces of an oncoming hoard might have been the single most exciting moment of his life! And it was not his time to die!
-------------------------------------------------
The ship’s bell tolled, snapping him back to the present.
Samdara roused slowly and turned to kiss Adolfo’s cheek before relinquishing his arm and sitting up.
Adolfo knew what the bell was for. I guess you could call it a “bloody hour”, though they did not come daily on this ship as it did on the Wormwood. Only on demand.
And today the captain demanded blood.
As he stood up and stretched, he pondered his captain.
That Knox was an interesting fellow. Hard as nails but with significant emotional weak spots. But, all in all, he was doing ok as captain. Not nearly as Good as Adolfo would do, of course.
That bee fellow had alluded to Adolfo being captain. He had asked why Adolfo didn’t have his own ship, or if he’d ever want to command this one. That wasn’t the first time a crew member had made that assertion, or at least hinted at it. His duty always made him laugh it off and make a snide comment about getting lashes for such talk. But he loved every mention of it, his ego slurping it all up like the finest spirits.
But he understood why they felt that way. Knox was always barking orders and yelling. He was no Harrigan by any stretch, but he was so boorish, not refined like Adolfo. And for Besmara’s sake, that giant, bulbous head could seriously use a good hat!
Yes, Adolfo was clearly the best option for this ship. Everyone knew it. Or at least his ego convinced him everyone knew it.
But Knox was a good man. He could live with him as captain… at least for now.
Besides, being captain seemed like such a pain. Always busy with business and talking and planning. On the other hand, Adolfo’s current position let him have authority, cross swords with countless foes, all while still having ample opportunity to satisfy his mind, which was always thirsting for new challenges. Making the ship faster, building elevators for the lookouts and creative odds and ends to help his mates was so satisfying.
But that was Adolfo. Two halves to an unmatched, complicated whole. How could he want to fight and adventure so badly yet yearn for the drafting table and engineering books just as strongly? His answer was a long childhood story about a far-off exotic land that only existed in his mind, with a dashing sword-master father and brilliant alchemist mother that lived only on the edges of his imagination.
A second bell tolled. He chugged down the remaining contents of his cup, placed it on the table beside him. He wheeled around purposefully and sauntered off to join the crew, who were gathering by the mainsail.
Knox was addressing the crew, but Adolfo wasn’t listening. Instead, his thoughts drifted back to the conversation he had with the captain and the other officer’s earlier that day. Knox had gone on and on about how the loss of guards and crew and the failings on the day were his fault and he would take our punishment.
Adolfo sat agog, wondering how the most exciting battle of his life, which ended in an overwhelming victory, could ever warrant any punishment. They were spread out, caught off guard, and severely outnumbered. They should all be dead. And every one of them that did die, willingly signed on to this detail, fully aware of all the risks.
But Adolfo also understood. Again, Knox had his emotional weak spots.
He pondered this further as Knox prepared for his lashes. His back was covered in scars, both from battles and punishment lashes from his earlier days. Adolfo stared intently at Knox, wondering that, if he stared hard enough, could he actually see the mental and emotional scars buried so deeply in Knox’s head and heart. If only Knox’s mother was as kind and nurturing as Adolfo’s… that is, if she wasn’t fictional, of course.
A thought occurred to Adolfo. He realized he was overcomplicating this. If the captain deemed this a failure, then a failure it was. And nobody bears pain meant for The Great Adolfo. If anything, The Great Adolfo stands in front and absorbs the pain!
Besides, what Knox was doing was a grand gesture. And the only thing Adolfo loves more than Samdara, the sea, and his fabulous hat… is an even grander gesture!
Just before the lashes began, Adolfo handed his hat to Samdara and strode out into the circle of his crew and mates, unbuttoning his shirt.
“It is not right to have the captain bear this punishment alone! As his right hand I will bear it as well!” he proclaimed as he removed his ruffled shirt and tossed it dramatically to the side.
Most of this crew had not seen Adolfo shirtless before. He always dressed in his best, even when pulling grueling manual duty in the sun. He never seemed to sweat. His body was as badly scarred as Knox’s, but differently. There were battle scars and the marks of a few whip strikes, just like the captain’s. But there were countless alchemical burns and clean slices, which were clearly surgical incisions, peppered all over his body. Adolfo has a long-winded, fascinating story for each one of these scars. Stories of battles and capture and torture and escape. All pirate action and warfare.
That was Adolfo’s truth. And he wore these scars proudly, like medals. The actual truth of a scared little boy being experimented on and tortured to unconsciousness had long been buried in the deepest recesses of his fractured mind.
Knox was furious, demanding Adolfo stand down. “Oi, I gave you a direct order! I’m taking these lashes alone!”
Adolfo, not to be outdone, retorted.
“And, respectfully, The Great Adolfo is ignoring that order!” he said taking position beside Knox. He then turned his head to stare Knox right in the eyes. “And what might the punishment for that be, Mon Capitan?” he asked wryly.
Knox sneered but Adolfo could swear a hint of smile lingered at the corners of his mouth. He could be wrong.
Knox looked out to the onlooking crew, clearly his thoughts jumping to a number of things he’d like to do to Adolfo in the moment. But he shook them off and sighed, shaking his head.
“Lashes, lad… lashes.” He turned and gave a nod to the crewman who nodded back pulling a second crewman from the crowd to man another whip.
Adolfo smiled. “If we are brothers in arms, we are also brothers in suffering!”
Knox nodded “Aye, lad.”
Adolfo couldn’t tell if it was respect or anger burning behind Knox’s gaze. Probably some combination of both, he surmised.
They kept their eyes locked on each other as the whips cracked.
Neither blinking…
Neither flinching…
Sneering smiles on both of their faces grew wider as their blood dripped down to the deck.

Infamy after Session 8: 12

Session 8: Wherein my players do the side-trek Beneath Unbroken Waves. Then they get a sending from Lady Agasta Smythee because she is nervous after a Sea Devil attack. The players defend Tidewater Rock in an island spanning, and mondomat spanning battle...

Claw is an NPC of my own design. He is a bee-person (not really a thing in pathfinder but I don't need to stat him up). He spends his springs harvesting opium fields in Katapesh and claims to grow the finest opium. He has developed an allergy to poppies though so during the planting season he has taken up a habit of doing a sabbatical in the Shackles and doing piracy. My player wrote this one from Claw's perspective as he has become a favored crew member...

Oh joyous Shackles morning! Ye mighty yawning flatulence-spewing surf and sand! I was looking forward to the days we would spend in Quent, cut loose from ship life for a few glorious weeks and rambling madly into the streets of a true pirate city! Only three weeks of quarantine to go. The bilge, and its most common inhabitant, Batrachus, were like a siren call to mine buzzing wings. He was an inveterate follower of Gogunta, and by turning the bilge into a saltmarsh paradise, he pleased his lord! I knew just the gift to give to the ship during this time. I set about collecting some bee companions who came looking to fertilize the ship surgeon's plants. This would surely please the members of the crew, to share with them my own interests and successes. What luck and auspicious wintering I would have, coyly blowing rings of opium smoke and entering ludicrous highs of existence, while making myself useful to the Isendrek, my newest home.

When the three weeks of quarantine were up, I stayed behind on the ship, carefully monitoring the bee hives being built in the corners of each deck of the ship. In the meantime, the officers strode into town. Nox came back one day with an entire cannon and collection of cannonballs, which he used to replace three ballistae. On the same day, I heard Elara mention to Adolfo that she spotted the ship of Cerise Bloodmourne, moored in the harbor. Every day the officers came back with more tales of infamy and new members of our crew. Taur'thalian was especially in bright spirits, weaving tales so beautifully and weaving language so effortlessly, that I wondered if he was part spider. He even told a bartender she must be a transmuter because she could turn gold into smiles.

Captain Nox came back to the ship telling us that he spoke to Hego Gabel, an orc captain who has run the Felhope Run more than once. A ship race that starts at the Cacophonous Shoals and winds its way through Phantom Corals, giant basalt crags called the Sister Spires, and a whirlpool called the Maiden's Gasp. He told Nox that there is a cleric dragon named Dahoq who patrols the sea as well.

Cerise met with Nox in the Lusty Mermaid and told him to say hello to Lady Agasta. Apparently they both hailed from Galt originally, coming to the Shackles on the same ship, but splitting up when Agasta met with Iron Burt. Nox promises that he intends to keep earning Agasta's regard. Elara talks to Elgin Mariss of the Arcane Duelist. He informs her that he is a pirate of pirates, and many of the officers agreed that the Isendrek should be on its guard for this scoundrel.

On Neth 21 we departed Quent, and I was sad to see it go, but I was happy to have dug into new mysterious alleyways and taverns throughout this pirate city. The officers had heard of a place on Captain Nox's map called Mr. Ripples, and we sailed over the next couple of days to arrive above an underwater prison. The entire officer corps headed down into the sea, with Sushi spreading out a water breathing spell, enabling them to take their time. Nox convinced some elementals guarding the door to let them in. Inside the prison were strange markings of Azlanti texts. Were I to have aspied them! What a glorious sight! My mind reels of the historical and psychological insights this Azlant knowledge could provide. Unfortunately, the officers were unable to make much headway into understanding them, other than knowing that the hatches on the wall probably indicated that someone had been in this prison for a VERY long time. Nox pocketed some tablets that looked to be ancient martial arts instructions, and then when the officers turned the corner, they came face to face with some kind of undead monk, and two construct creatures!

The monk seemingly gestured for some of the officers to enter the arena, but Batrachus had different plans. He motioned to Captain Nox, (with a finger across the throat) and Nox merely nodded. Combat erupted. Eubels and Batrachus attacked the same construct, and the undead monk cast a spell that emptied Batrachus' mighty frog lungs of air! The construct creatures knocked out Eubels with monk-like fury, but Adolfo returned with a critical hit. Elara provided shock damage to Adolfo's blade and a well-timed evil eye to even out the fight. Nox switches between weapons and attacks the leader, but falls to the monster. Sushi's summoned shark is destroyed and he begins stabilizing and healing the crew. Taur'thalian blessed Batrachus with a spirited heroism, which helped him beat the suffocating spell-binding. Adolfo critically hits Falehetu, the undead prisoner, and the monster is destroyed. In a chest, the party discovers the secret of "Mr. Ripples." It is actually an Azlanti relic, a mummy made to ward off scrying and divination magic around their observatories of old. Can you imagine ancient star-watching civilizations from before Earthfall!? This is their magic, made manifest on our own ship! All thanks to the heroic efforts of the officers of the Isendrek.

Returning to the ship after securing Mr. Ripples, the officers know a storm is coming. Sushi heads to the crow's nest, while Nox intimidates the crew into performing well. Adolfo goes through the ship making sure she's in tip top shape, while Elara prepares the rest of the crew with her knowledge of sailing. And Taur'thalian at the wheel maneuvers the Isendrek like thread through the eye of a needle. Lady Agasta had sent Nox a sending asking for protection at Tidewater Rock, and the Isendrek sails over the seas, through tradewinds and cresting waves, which to me at times at my pipe felt like centuries, to the reality of the crew, were mere days.

Elara shares with some members of the crew that she had a dream one night of Blue Hesmene coming to her, congratulating her on Velmara, her wolf companion, but like an Absalom bookie, she offers that it would be a shame if anything would happen to her. Blue Hesmene reminds Elara to find Vance.

Badger Medlar had been unhappy with my gift to the ship, and ratted me out to Nox. Of course the Captain, in his due diligence, came to talk things out with me, bringing along Elara. Her manner was a lot more pleasant, and I think they got the point of why I thought providing honey to the ship was a gift, sharing my own special talent with the entire crew! Adolfo, Sushi, and Batrachus all seemed to agree and tried to help me out. Adolfo was able to use his knowledge of engineering and carpentry to build a bee funnel straight from the main deck to the bilge, where they had me move all the hives. Batrachus even offered to pray for my bees. That night, Adolfo shared a drink with me, and we regaled each other with pirate tales.

On Neth 26 we arrived at Tidewater Rock. Lady Agasta asked the Isendrek to stay in the harbor for at least a week in case the sahuagin menace returned. Batrachus heads to the grotto to meet with Gukka and check on his clutch. He helped to incubate the eggs over the week. Sushi spots some solutions to a new dock that could host more ships in the lagoon, and he and Adolfo begin working on it. On Neth 28, an unmarked merchant ship is spotted, and we run it down, easily fleecing it for 3 plunder. Every night, Taur'thalian keeps watch with his elven eyes, and he speaks with Bakka who is praying to Besmara on the roof.

Elara wakes up on Neth 29 and for the first time in maybe her entire life, she has no nightmares. The crew decide that Mr. Ripples must be working somehow. On Neth 30, the sahuagin attacked at dusk during a storm. The battle raged for only a few minutes, but the Battle for Tidewater Rock would be remembered for years to come. It wasn't just sahuagin crawling over the beaches, ships, and pulling into the lagoon, but a crew of pirates, led by a tattooed woman named Isabella Locke! She flew into the battle, casting lightning bolts at the main entrance to the Rock, literally trying to crack it wide open. Nox and the archers target her and get in some good hits with the captain's magical bow. Her pirate crew begin to ram the door while Adolfo defends the western beach, single handedly taking out some of her more sneaky pirates. Elara and Taur'thalian whip us on the ship into a fighting frenzy, and we take out sea devil after sea devil, like dates in a pudding. Elara casts spells on multiple sea devils and pirates, putting them to sleep as other members of the crew kill them off. The eastern front was the most fraught with danger. Only Sushi, Batrachus and Eubels (along with the two assassin vines) held out against the brute squad of ten sahuagin. Taur'thalian eventually comes to their aid, leaping off the prow of the ship, like a hero from one of his sagas.

Locke - knowing that Nox could take her out easily with his impressive bow skills - turns invisible and begins summoning mephits of salt spray. They begin killing guards and attacking Nox on the tower of Tidewater Rock. Batrachus and Eubels are both knocked out by sea devil brutes as Sushi does his best to call down bolts of lightning and summon creatures to slow them down as he treads water effortlessly in the harbor. Taur'thalian is able to distract the sahuagin and lead them in a circle long enough for Sushi to entangle them, slowing them down just enough while Elara gets off a perfect glitterdust spell. The eastern front looks a little calmer.

However, during that time, the tower battle raged. Knox had sought out Locke with his eyes, and was able to pinpoint her location for Elara to use a glitterdust and make her appear. Locke then unloaded on Nox. Within two rounds she had blasted him with a boiling salt water geyser, and then a lightning bolt. Our captain was dead. The crew that remained on the ship's ballistae turned their ire on the flying sorceress, and shot her out of the sky. But the revenge felt cold, uninspiring. A battle of attrition raged across the shores of Tidewater Rock at this point. As the Great Adolfo and Royster fought pirates from the front and mephits from above, leading them into a deadly trap of piercing rapiers; Elara sent the crew of our ship down the docks to pin them from behind. Elara helped clear up the eastern beach as Sushi continued to summon and trick sahuagin with spells and Taur'thalian healed Batrachus and Eubels. Gukka ran over to her mate and fed him a potion as well. The sea devils and the pirates were cleaned up, but it felt like no victory at all.

The officers discussed next actions and learned a lot more about the Shackles, poring over their maps and treasures. The map, painted in ink on Locke's back, seemed to direct us towards Mancatcher's Cove. The purported spot of Cyrus Wolfe's treasure. That seemed like a place to go, especially if Locke hailed from there. We certainly had revenge to distribute. The body of our captain was brought before Phoebe, and the last casting of Raise Dead remaining on the magical piece of driftwood found in the grindylow cave, was used. Nox would return, but it felt like things had changed for the crew of the Isendrek. And with the deaths of Ratline Ratsberger, two of the Quent 21, an assassin vine, and four of Lady Agasta's guards, we hung our heads.

An apiarist is very rarely stung by his own bees, but a beehive that is disturbed by others is one on high alert. The remaining compatriots of Isabella Locke would feel the sting of the Isendrek.

Party after session 7:
Taur'Thalian Sigtrygrrson: L6 Half-elf skald (Dragon skald)
Sushi: L6 Tengu druid (shark-shaman) of Hei Feng
Batrachus: L1 Boggard brawler (wild child)/L3 Hunter
Elara Variel: L4 Human witch (fey-touched hexer)
The Great Adolfo: L5 Human swashbuckler (Inspired blade)
Lawrence "Hard" Knox: L4 Half-orc ranger (Divine tracker)
Phoebe Flynn: L5 Human cleric (Undead lord)

Sworn Crew (43 NPCs + 7 PCs =50):
rosie cuswell
barefoot samms toppin
fluhtred
claw
sandra quinn
owlbear hartshorn
songer
baaka
ambrose kroop
breaker bones
conchobhat turlach shortstone
randy dandy
guitard
giffer tibbs
badger medlar
crimson cog cogward
Professor Buttcavage
Stabsy Thistlewink
Red-itch rick
David faraget
Nome de guere
Dad murderin-Jim
Baeg McBaeg
Captain Inspector Riggle Safety McGee
The Quent 21 (reduced to 19 after 2 deaths in the defense of Tidewater Rock.

4 Tidewater Rock guards died too, and one of Sushi's two Assassin Vines.

Short-hand notes:
Lamashan 24: Arrive in Quent.
Lamashan 24-14: Quarantine in Quent
Neth 15-20: Conduct commerce in Quent for players and the ship. Recruit crew. Build infamy
Neth 21-Neth 24: Sail to Mr. Ripples. Recover Mr. Ripples. Receive sending from Tidewater Rock, ride through storm successfully.
Neth 26: Arrive at Tidewater Rock. Hang out. Start building docks. Don't attack Sargavan ship passing by.
Neth 27: Install Mr. Ripples. Claim a merchant ship.
Kuthona 1: Defend Tidewater Rock against Sea Devils + Isabella Locke.

Session 7: Wherein my player's complete the Dungeon magazine adventure Tameraught's Fate, get married, and do some side treks aboard their ship....

13-14 Lamashan
“Oi. Let’s keep the key points in mind, and the key points are I don’t want diseased ghouls running around loose in this keep.”
Phoebe smiles to herself. Silly Nox - disease only affects the living. True power lies with the dead.
Phoebe’s gaze wandered around the room, her attention only half focused on the conversation amongst the crew. Fire Watch Isle had proven to be a veritable treasure trove of bodies, and the sooner she could start raising them, the more magnificent the crew of the Isendrek will become. She goes to adjust Snick’s pirate hat, which has annoyingly started to slide off the undead giant crab’s carapace again, and wonders if anyone has any really strong glue.
“I really think we just off ‘em, they’re gonna turn into something nasty if we let ‘em live. This is a stupid risk to take for people we can’t help and don’t owe nothin’” says Batrachus. Sushi appeared skeptical, and Batrachus seemed curiously defensive, like Sushi’s opinion mattered to him. The others appeared skeptical. “I’m not saying we should eat ‘em. Obviously the meat’s gone bad. Just kill them and be done with it.”…
Nox turns to regard Phoebe. “Phoebe can you tell us anything about this disease? How long do they have before they succumb?”
Phoebe continues securing Snick’s pirate hat. There is an uncomfortable pause. “Phoebe?” Satisfied with the new hat placement, for now, she looks up at Nox. “Do you have any really strong glue?”
Nox sighs deeply. “Let’s try to keep our focus on the problem at hand, lass.”
The crew continues arguing, and Phoebe wanders away, her attention caught by something in the next room of the keep. Tonight the undead would attack, and perhaps, if she was lucky, she could make some new friends.
As dusk began to edge towards evening, and the last glimmer of light disappeared from the horizon, the attack came. Mobs of zombies stumbled from the ocean and began making their way towards the keep. Sushi’s entangle spell slows several of them down, and those who make it past suddenly find themselves in the grips of the assassin vines that Sushi has befriended.
More zombies approach from the opposite side of the keep, stumbling up through the waves, precariously close to where Phoebe has stashed the huge crustacean corpse of her soon-to-be new best friend.. A low growl escapes her throat. Perhaps Sushi could direct his plant friends to engage this new threat and protect her prized possession? “Sushi look! They are coming from the other side!” she yells. Sushi, being ever valorous, moves inside towards where Phoebe is standing, overlooking the back of the keep, and suddenly freezes, his eyes going wide, as an assassin attacks from the shadows.
“Absolutely not, that is my bird-friend,” mutters Phoebe, glaring at the suddenly visible foe clinging to the wall. She casts a spell, and the assassin is frozen in place for a moment, before plunging off the side of the keep to the ground below.
Meanwhile, Nox keeps steady arrow fire on the zombies storming the front of the keep. “Great shot, lass!” he yells, as Jannor Duskway’s arrow lodges in the throat of a zombie. More zombies begin scaling the walls, but Nox’s deadly aim prevents any from reaching the top.
Inside the keep, Batrachus and Eubels stand guard at the top of the stairwell, forcing the zombies through a field of caltrops into a choke point where they are systematically reduced to zombie chunks. After taking one particularly large bite of zombie, Eubels pauses, looks confused, and suddenly starts barfing up zombie chunks all over the stairs. He turns to Batrachus, unsure of what has happened and hoping his friend can make it right. Batrachus stares helplessly at Eubels, and a wet, angry sound starts to build within his vocal sac. Deep and thick, wet and foreboding – like the deadly marshes of his home. There is a frantic blur of motion, some dull squelching sounds, and nothing remains but an undifferentiated mass of zombie chunks. Batrachus drops his harpoon and begins gently rubbing the hippo’s stomach, cooing softly – an ancient lullaby of the boggard race. There is a final explosion from both ends, some tail fanning to mark their new territory, a burp, and then Eubels wanders off, looking for new corpses to eat.
The final wave of zombies is destroyed, and with nothing left to control, Phoebe’s gaze travels to where Sushi’s body lies, unmoving, on the floor. Necromantic energy begins to swirl around her fingers as she walks slowly to the corpse, her eyes alight with focus. She kneels next to Sushi, extending her hand, imagining the joyous creation he would make – and suddenly gasps, withdrawing her hand, as Sushi’s solemn voice sounds in her mind: “Never do that to me.”
Phoebe sighed, resignation drooping her shoulders. Not everyone appreciated the majesty of her creations, and she had promised. Frowning in concentration, she read the scroll to return Sushi to life, struggling to bring forth the healing she needed. Positive energy was difficult and did not come naturally the way her necromancy did. But after failing her first attempt, she was able to restore Sushi to life. “Promise kept,” she said, as two avian eyes fluttered open to meet hers. Pheobe then scurried away to ensure that Eubels didn’t eat any bodies she had previously claimed.

Their efforts had been witnessed by a particularly wise looking (and somewhat pushy, to be honest) seagull, who was trying to lead them…somewhere. Sushi knew an omen when he saw one, and urged them to follow. Bereft of boats, their ride having long since returned to Tidewater Rock, Batrachus and Eubels swim out into the bay, following the raven. It leads them several hundred feet out to sea. Batrachus marks the spot, and gives Eubels a hard pat on his muscled flank. “Whatever lies below, it is not part of Gogunta’s unholy design. This is not a risk we need to take.” Eubels vomits up a moldy boot in agreement, and the two made their way back to the island, with plans to return with a repaired ship and full complement of crew.
Batrachus and Sushi set about magically repairing a rowboat, while Nox pressganging the cleric of Groteous while trying not to be too much of a dick about it, and then the expanded party sets off for a hopefully debarnacled Isendrek. Along the way, they are accosted by two mutated pegasi, who were swiftly dispatched.
Battle concluded, Sushi stands upon the prow of the rowboat, staring off into the middle distance, contemplating the seeming randomness of the encounter. “No known nest was discovered on either island. Where did they come from? Why were they hunting so far from their home when food is plentiful throughout the shackles? Why engage with a clearly armed and dangerous group of predators? Pegasi do not covet treasure. Perhaps there was something in the very air and water, an elemental corruption infecting the entire region, disrupting the natural balance of nature. If only….” Sushi’s musings come to an abrupt, stumbling halt as the boat rocks into motion once again.
The next day, the crew followed their helpful seagull far from shore, where they began to descend deep below the waves, towards a shipwreck that lay more than 300 feet underwater. Phoebe, wearing her fancy new helm of underwater action, suddenly finds herself swimming like a fish. Even Snick seemed impressed. As they drew closer, the ghostly skeleton of a sunken cargo ship came into view. Even underwater, Phoebe could sense a strong necromantic field, and she eagerly swam towards it. Jackpot.
“Hello my lovelies,” purred Phoebe. “Shall we play?”
Immediately the undead swarmed toward Phoebe, and just as they are about to close in, she sweeps her arms wide, commanding them to obey. One drowned sailor heeds her call, and moves in to attack his fellows alongside Snick. Batrachus, Eubels, and Nox engage the zombie swarm, while Sushi summons a manta ray to join the fray. The encounter ends almost before it could begin, and Nox looks vaguely disappointed as the three dimensional battle plans he had been developing drift away on the unseen tides shifting the sand on the ocean’s floor.

The zombie swarm handled, Phoebe turned to her new friend. “What is this place?”
“Cuuuuursed. We’ve been cursed for eternity!” yells the zombie.
Phoebe pursed her lips. Was being turned undead a curse? Or a blessing? Depends who you ask, I guess.
“How do we end the curse?” she asked.
“Slaaaaay him. You must slay our captain. Take the portal to find him. End himmmm.” The zombie gazes intently towards a glowing light within the ship’s broken hull. “Also you must bring glue. Very sticky glue.”
Prepared to meet Captain Syrgaul Tammerut, the crew entered the glowing portal, which lead to a small pocket realm. And, to Phoebe’s great pleasure, a desecrate spell enveloped the area. Surging with renewed power, she locked her gaze with the undead sea captain.
“Shall we play, captain?” Phoebe smiled as her channeled power shot out towards undead.
Turning to Phoebe, Captain Tammerut hissed “Vengeance! I swore vengeance against Firewatch Isle!”
“It seems that your vengeance must now come to an end,” replied Phoebe. “True necromantic power comes with purpose and intent. Your mindless rage does not serve you well. I suggest you use the weapon you are holding to end your existence.”
With a final whispered “Vennnnngeannnce….” Captain Tammerut stabbed himself in the chest. And just like that, the battle was over.
Gazing down at the fallen undead captain, Phoebe did not notice Sushi meticulously covering the cracked stone with the sovereign glue he had discovered until it was mostly gone.
“But Sushi! I was going to use that!” exclaimed Phoebe, despairingly.
Sushi’s bird eyes flicked towards Phoebe disapprovingly, as he continued spreading the glue. “Sometimes we must sacrifice that which we hold most dear to achieve a greater purpose.” Nodding to himself, Sushi pocketed the now empty glue vial, as Phoebe turned to look forlornly at Snick, whose jaunty pirate hat had, once again, slipped off.

15-17 Lamasahan
It was not the fastest wedding in the history of the Shackles, but little time was wasted. Nox looked resplendent in his best sleeveless vest. He particularly appreciated how its lack of sleeves highlighted the iron cordage that were his arms, and the way the it framed his abs just so when he left it stylishly unbuttoned. He was not a vain man, but he instinctively knew his angles, and understood that he had a crew full of visual learners. If he wanted to maintain his authority he had to look the part.
As he dressed, he explained the Galtian wedding tradition of committing something of value to the sea as Batrachus, his self-appointed best man, listened with rapturous attention. Batrachus loved weddings, and his limited knowledge of Golarion geography meant he would not ask why the completely land locked nation of Galt happened to have this particular seafaring tradition.
“And that sacrifice, big lad, will ensure both parties remain true to the conditions of the marriage contract.”
“What about your seed? The lady has wide birthing hips, but mammals spawn one at a time, and the gestational period may as well be an eternity. And your young are useless for years at time. This is no way to pass on your genes.”
“Aye that’s true, big lad. But the contract is silent about what happens at sea…”
Batrachus smiled at that. It was a wide, fleshy smile that took its time unfolding to its full length, stopping along the way to unpack various folds and inflate various pouches. But it seemed sincere. “Wait right here.” And Batrachus bounded out of the room, leaving Nox alone with his thoughts. In the absence of an audience, he let go of the breath he had been half holding, his chest deflating, and he allowed himself a moment of authentic doubt. Aye, it was a good crew. “Aye, it was a fine ship. Aye, it was a promising beginning. But would it be enough. So much was expected of him. And her regard could bore holes through the most armored hulls. Aye…just aye…”
As Nox navigated towards his next nautical metaphor, Batrachus returned, holding a large burlap sack in his left hand. “You’ve been a good captain, Nox. And this marriage benefits all of us. So I offer you this gift, so that you may sacrifice it in accordance with your ancient Galtian seafaring traditions, and bind not only yourself, but your entire crew to this partnership.”
Nox opened his mouth to speak and paused, genuinely moved by the gesture. He cleared his throat and blinked away, not a tear exactly, but something. “Thank you, big lad. Truly. This means a lot.” He took the bag from a beaming Batrachus, and opened it. Inside was an elaborate piece of scrimshaw, impeccably carved.
“It is a Jack Scrimshaw special. The holy symbol of the Song of the Swamp, the great Frog Mother Gogunta. May your loins be fecund, and may your every step help pave the way to her glorious return to regional prominence.”
Nox closed the bag, and forced a smile. “Aye, thanks big lad. It will serve.”

The ceremony took place on the Isendrek. Speeches were made, and vows exchanged. Not everyone was equally joyful, as Roysten, the Castellan of Tidewater Rock, pulled Nox aside and threatened vengeance if he dishonored the Smythee name. The Great Adolpho and Taur’thallian stayed sober and watched over the ship and crew, giving Nox liscense to enjoy his wedding. But Batrachus, normally not one to pass on a free indulgence, felt curiously unsettled, charged with a sensation of unknown and undefined anticipation, so present as to be almost tangible in its force. He stood on the prow of his ship, Eubels at his side. Waiting.
Suddenly, without a word, he dove into the ocean and swam towards shore. Eubels shrugged, as only a juvenile hippo can shrug, and dove in after his master. Batrachus made his way inland, towards the grotto he had previously sanctified to Gogunta. A vision awaited him. A female boggard, lying in the fetid pool, her legs splayed open, her cloaca visible, gaping, thick with ooze and inviting. It was the most beautiful thing Batrachus had ever seen. His jaw dropped. Being a boggard, this took a while.
The vision spoke. Her voice was like the buzzing of the fattest mosquito, and it glided towards him on a carpet of brackish swamp bubbles. She reeked of dank seduction. Batrachus had not drank anything, but he had never been more intoxicated. “Hello Batrachus. I am Gukka. The great Frog Mother has sent me a sign. I have come for your seed. Together we will spawn a clutch of boggards. Most will die, as the strong consume the weak. It is the way of the swamp. The way of Gogunta. But the strongest...oh the things they will accomplish.”
“Regional prominence…” Batrachus whispered
Gukka nodded. “Now, come to me.”
And he did. Eubels wandered off, granting the moment the privacy it deserved. But he would return later, to the grotto. He defecated over the eggs, and fanned his offering over the clutch of eggs. His own contribution to the glorious future to come.

18-21 Lamashan
Though some were now married, and others expecting, the pirate’s life is built on routine, and routine continued. The Ordinance of Thrune, a ship of the line from the Chellish Navy, engaged its prey a little too close Tidewater Rock, and the Isendrek ambushed and defeated the far more powerful vessel. Claw taught the crew about the Katapehsi holiday of Bastion, and there was much celebration and then much less work but really chill vibes.
And on the 21st of Lamashan, hold overflowing with plunder, the Isendrek pulled into the port of Little Oparra. New crew were added to replace those lost, and who among us could now imagine life on the Isendrek without the soft pedantry of Professor Buttcavage, the sensual scratching of Red Itch Rick, or the playful malice of Stabsy Thislewick. And the slow and steady passage of time could now be marked on the ‘days without incident board’, climbing without interruption thanks to the work of Captain Inspector Riggle Safety McGee.
On the third of Neth, the Isendrek made the acquaintance of Tarin Skyjack Modraine, he of the flying carpet and art of the deal. But his 75/25 percentage was no match for Phoebe who, with the endless patience and pure clarity that can only come from plumbing the secrets of mortality and coming out the other side, bargained him to an 85/15 split. The exploding groudiur were a nasty surprise, but not nastier than the away team of the Isendrek, and the plundered cargo of the Crimson Dawn, missing for over a decade, justified the burns (nothing that couldn’t be soothed by the refrigeration bricks given a new home onboard their ship).
Yes, it was a difficult encounter, a challenging encounter. But they managed, through a profligate use of resources. And as the afternoon sun began its slow and steady journey towards the evening horizon line Sushi found himself once again at the prow of the ship, reflecting on the seeming randomness of their encounter. “In a vast, trackless sea what were the odds we might encounter a lone wizard on his flying carpet. Still, we survived, even profited. The battle was difficult, but we will rise tomorrow, well rested and ready to take on whatever challenge the Shackles might….”
Sushi’s musings were interrupted by Solmeil, a messenger of light, representative of the heavens, sworn foe of the hydro daemon Bralzzic. And though the crew was exhausted, resources depleted, as surely the odds of encountering two separate challenges on the same random day of sailing approached zero, they accepted the angel’s offer. It was a difficult encounter, so far removed from buff o’clock as to be in an altogether different time zone. At one point Phoebe succumbed to the daemon’s dark lullaby. But before it could abscond with Phoebe, Snick somehow mustered the strength to hold the daemon firm, binding it to the deck where the rest of the crew could finish it off.
And as the evening moon began its slow and steady journey towards the dawn’s horizon line Sushi found himself once again at the prow of the ship, reflecting on the existential absurdity of two random encounters in one day. “They worship a different set of gods on this side of Golarion, and they really need to get their s@$& together….”
24th Neth
The Isendrek pulled into Quent, holds filled to bursting with plunder, head filled to bursting with stories sure to become infamous, like a clutch of over fertilized boggard eggs destined to alter the regional balance of power.
It is said that a ship is a living, breathing thing, and each member a vital link within a complex, organic system. Interconnected through invisible but tangible ties. Should one muscle cramp, one artery block, the entire organism will collapse.
But if that living, breathing vessel has a soul, surely that soul is its captain. And as the Isendrek pulls into Quent, captain Nox finds himself standing on its prow, nudging Sushi to the side, staring off into the middle distance. He steels himself, and through him, his ship and crew. For he knew what awaited them in Quent. The greatest challenge the Isendrek had yet to face, capable of shattering its hard won integrity with a word, nay a glance.
Nox took a deep, steadying breath, turned, and prepared to greet his mother.

Party after session 7:
Taur'Thalian Sigtrygrrson: L5 Half-elf skald (Dragon skald)
Sushi: L5 Tengu druid (shark-shaman) of Hei Feng
Batrachus: L1 Boggard brawler (wild child)/L3 Hunter
Elara Variel: L4 Human witch (fey-touched hexer)
The Great Adolfo: L5 Human swashbuckler (Inspired blade)
Lawrence "Hard" Knox: L4 Half-orc ranger (Divine tracker)
Phoebe Flynn: L5 Human cleric (Undead lord)

Sworn Crew:
rosie cuswell
ratline ratsburger
barefoot samms toppin
fluhtred
claw
sandra quinn
owlbear hartshorn
songer
baaka
ambrose kroop
breaker bones
conchobhat turlach shortstone
randy dandy
guitard
giffer tibbs
badger medlar
crimson cog cogward
Professor Buttcavage
Stabsy Thistlewink
Red-itch rick
David faraget
Nome de guere
Dad murderin-Jim
Baeg McBaeg
Captain Inspector Riggle Safety McGee

Does an animal archetype allow the animal to take the archetype without meeting the prerequisite of the listed feats? Or does the animal still need to meet the prerequisites, but the feat is now on the eligible feat list?

For example, the bully archetype has improved trip on the list. Does the animal still need a 13 INT?

Bully Archetype:
ttps://www.aonprd.com/ArchetypeDisplay.aspx?FixedName=Companion%20Bully

Session 6 - where I take my players on a detour through the Dungeon magazine adventure Tammeraught's Fate. Spoilers abound. In this one, the player of Sushi chose to do the write-up from Owlbear's perspective....

Owlbear's Lament; or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Child Servants

No one ever really come see Owlbear ever since the frog man gave me that big, good hug. The officers all go off on adventures, but do they think to invite old Owlbear? No! Never. So now I just sit here, being all big and tough, and hard to kill. They decided they don't even need to protect me during ship engagements! They think these cutlass wounds just heal themselves. Well, Knox has been sick for at least a week, and since the youngin' Scrimshaw died, there's a new cutie in town. Ol' Owlbear. I even started carving a new bone that I got off one of them brine zombies.

Owlbear's journaling is interrupted for a brief moment as Kroop drops off a young, brown-haired, goat-smelling boy. "Uhhh, Owlbear. The officers of the Isendrek recruited a new child servant - this one's named Mardus Siggs. Can you get him up to speed?"

Owlbear looks forlornly at the young ward, knowing his short time as ship cutie had come to an end. "Come sit on Owlbear's lap and I'll tell you all about the Isendrek, and how to win the favor of the crew."

He begins...

Lamashan 6
The crew had just disentangled themselves from the clutches of an alluring nereid, when a pleasant night fell, and the ship sailed cleanly over the waves towards Rickety Squibs. It was known at this point that there were just enough bad-mouthy ne'er-do-wells on the ship who wanted their way off at port. That happens sometimes, you see Mardus. The officers Taur'thalian, The Great Adolfo, and Elara Variel decided it was time to lay on their charms, and fast. Elara talked to the Scorching Ray crew, and won over Randy Dandy, Dolly, Sam Bass, and Chris Gethard. Harless Javell, the former captain of Kraken's Cove, said she would only stay on if she could be captain. With ol' Knox sick in bed, the officers of the Isendrek thought about it for a brief moment, but they told her no thanks.

Elara then decided to talk up those atheists from the Man's Promise. Everyone and their mother knew Ahmed was maybe the most handsome man in the Shackles, and Elara tried to play to his vanity, but like most atheists, he only cared about his family and children. No pirate in that man.

Lamashan 7
The next day, the Isendrek sailed into Rickety Squibbs harbor and the officers met Rickety Hake. Elara tried to find out what was worth buying, but Hake put a quick stop to that. He was only interested in selling what the captain had requested! Must have sent a bird, the old Knox! The crew also bought barding for Eubels and some wands that will come in handy later, Mardus. Oh, and Mardus, it's always worth buying wands with fewer charges, even if they up-charge you.

As we were to spend a day in port, refitting the new canvas sails, the talkative triad of Taur'thalian, Elara, and Adolfo headed to the bar to recruit more crew members. Taur'thalian somehow wound up talking to some of his kith and kin from the Northlands. Fluhtred, Guitard, and Songer all joined, although Songer and Taur had a tense moment of reconnection as they were old eskimo brothers. Do you know what that is Mardus? It's like when two goats both like the same goat. Make sense? Oh, and Songer's name back then was Skinny Thor, but don't call him that. I don't remember exactly, but the chiefs up in those northern villages don't like inter-racial relationships, and that's why they all left. Before we set sail, Baka from the Man's Promise, a handsome man - but not nearly as handsome as Ahmed - decided to swear the oath of Isendrek as well.

Lamashan 8
The Isendrek left the harbor of Rickety Squibbs and sailed towards Tidewater Rock. Adolfo recalled quite a lot of information about the island and relayed what he knew to the crew. It was once the haven of Magnus Stomeyes - its natural harbor and proximity to Senghor made it a great tool of piracy. He built the castle and built a fleet, and eventually became the first Hurricane King. Did Agasta ever tell you this story Mardus? This is where your goats live. Anyway, Stormeyes was assassinated in Port Peril and the place changed hands over the years. Bertram Smythee was the most recent captain to take over the place. And then he was betrayed by Captain Harrigan, although I think the two of them both nearly lost their fleets in the Eye of Abendengo in the process. Ever since then, your old charge Agasta has been there, watching over the keep, without much protection. That's I guess how come the crew found you.

As we approached Tidewater Rock that night, we did spot an old whaler that disappeared over the horizon.

Lamashan 9
A school of hippocampi swam by that morning and it brought a tear to my old eye. And then another to my young eye. That evening a thick fog rolled in, and we could hear a rusted ship's bell. We know the Death Knell is near and see it silently sail by us.

Lamashan 10
A nor'easter swept up this day, m'boy. Sweeping across the Fever Sea, we could see the spittle of white crested waves bashing against the hull. That interminable bell began to ring. And then it appeared, almost out of nowhere. THE DEATH KNELL. It put us to our paces in ship combat, and Elara as pilot tried her best to maneuver the ship as Phoebe tried to keep an eye on that terrible ship. Batrachus and Sushi could barely get the ballista and catapults fired before the damn thing sailed under the water and was on top of us within ten minutes. The entire crew jumped to battle positions as the zombies of Captain Whalebone Pilk invaded our deck. Elara blinded the zombies with a glitterdust, but Pilk saw right through it. Batrachus' spear went through a zombie as Taur'thalian's voice broke like the waves themselves on the tired beach of our souls, reinvigorating us just enough. Phoebe threw out a bless, as Eubels, and Snick and Snack, Flynn's dastardly zombie crabs attacked from all sides. Eubels killed one of the zombies, but they took down at least five of our crew that round. Phoebe wrested control of one of the zombies from Pilk, as Sushi's summoned ant and lightning cloud began to lay into Pilk. Adolfo struck Pilk a dangerous blow, along with Snick and Snack. Eubels charged across a gang plank as Batrachus leapt, and the rest of the zombies, and eventually Pilk go down.

Pilk's bell, let out a shrill ring, and Batrachus, Eubels, and Adolfo attack the bell to end Pilk's magic, as the rest of the officers begin to heal up the wounded crew. Sadly, we lost six to the zombies that day. Jack Scrimshaw - he was the child slave, er, servant, before you - Dolly, Artful Rodger, Chris Gethard, Barefoot Samms, and Chumley. Thankfully Sandara was able to save Barefoot Samms.

Oh, and Mardus, you might want to remember this most of all, but Batrachus shared with all of us that he had a dream that night where his demon harbinger asked him to save his seed.

Lamashan 11
We approached Tidewater Rock, where the officers parlayed with Agasta Smythee and her first officer Royster. She agreed as long as Knox was held imprisoned in her brig. We agreed and went to get lunch. The officers introduced themselves to Royster and looked around the keep. They met Clew making grilled cheese, as well as your grandparents Albers and Birney Siggs. The lunch was an impressive orange, shrimp and soup spread, along with the grilled cheese I heard. Great goat herding, m'boy! Agasta agreed to let the Isendrek crew act as her eyes and ears and increase the infamy of her position in a mutually beneficial way, (to be honest, the ins and outs of this kind of political piracy bores old Owlbear) but only under the condition that Captain Knox agree to a Shackles Wedding once the Isendrek has built enough infamy.

Lamashan 12
Because of the build up of barnacles on the hull of the Isendrek, the entire crew went to work on scraping. At the same time, the officers learned a lot more about their maps and identifying places to build infamy and gain treasure. The pearl that destroyed Kraken's Cove, may have been created at the Isle of Dread, and more locations were added to the map. It was a hard day, and I think spirits were beginning to sour on the Isendrek, although it seemed like the officers were having a fine time.

Lamashan 13
Batrachus had been itching ever since we got to the island to look for suitable swampy areas, to either spread, or hold, or edge his seed. Is this too R-rated for you Mardus. You understand goats, right? Goats do it, frog men do it, etc. etc. Anyway, on this day Batrachus and the officers were all walking along the beach towards his swampy area on the island, when they came across a bloated body being attacked by harpies. The officers all buff up while the harpies are distracted, and then approach. A bullseye shot by Taur'thalian knocks a wasp nest to the ground right next to the harpies and the fight begins! Batrachus leaps towards the flying harpies as thunderclouds, undead crabs, parried strikes and hexes are tossed at the foes. The harpies retreat and the officers run into the ocean to hide from the wasps until they fly away. The body left by the harpies is brought to Agasta who identifies it as Philbert from Firewatch Island, one of the few islands that still does trade with Tidewater Rock. She tells the party of a monastery dedicated to Groetus there, and of the yard-long beans they grow. She has Ulder Rasterhill row the party over to the island.

Ulder began to unload his wares when the bells of the monastery began to ring and the party witnessed a creature called a peryton fly up to the belfry before the sounding ended. Inside the monastery they find a tower dedicated to making beer, but decide to check out a side door. The side door leads to a rickety bridge, so the party decided to look at the pond. The pond contained sea hags. That be the pirate's life, Mardus! The sea hags put up quite a fight, but the officers get them to relent quickly and offer no quarter to the old crones. Batrachus and Sushi spent some time repairing the rickety bridge, and the rest of the monastery is slowly explored. It was a scene of gore and viscera, m;boy! They opened a door into the side room that smelled of more offal and death! And then the bricks. Bricked up rooms everywhere. It was too much to bear.

In a meditation room, swarms of rats attacked the party, but the frog-man and Eubels, along with Adolfo took them down swiftly. Snick, Snack and the team finished up the second set of rat swarms coming from around the corner. In the kitchen, the party found a hidden larder and basement where a voice shouted "shhuushhh" and told the party not to come down. Outside the party finds a boat filled with bodies and a large chuul jumped out of the waters and nearly squeezed poor Eubels to death. Taur sang as the melee crew laid into the Chuul, with Adolfo parrying some of its tentacley attacks. All this commotion alerted the perception of the peryton, who flew down and stole Phoebe's shadow. Elara's hex saved the crew from most of its attacks, and Batrachus ended its life.

In the larder, a group of people led by Janore Duskwane ask for help. She had been trying to heal her friends of the disease they got from these drowned creatures, but she wasn't sure it was working. Old Frog Man said they should just kill em all, (like when you have to take out the diseased goats) but Phoebe and the rest objected. Maybe they could spend watches and tie up the infected just in case. That matter was never solved though, as the rest of the monastery had to be cleared in case of more attacks that night, and Ulder had already left with the boat.

In the library upstairs, the crew fought two snakes valiantly. And Snack, the crab I loved most, died to one of the snakes. In the belfry, Sushi's bird eyes discovered a hatch with many treasures and a note about a cursed Chelish war ship that had crashed five miles west of the island. As they surmised that might be the source of the drowned, and a future adventure, they began to take account of their defensible positions in the monastery and resources, as they believed they would have a long night ahead of them - if not from dealing with the infected, then the possible invasion of more drowned, and whatever curse had been put on them.

Well, that's about it Mardus, get ye to bed, ya scallywag. Dream of cheese, and say a prayer to Gogunta, our Savior.

Notes:

Party after session 6:
Taur'Thalian Sigtrygrrson: L5 Half-elf skald (Dragon skald)
Sushi: L4 Tengu druid (shark-shaman) of Hei Feng
Batrachus: L1 Boggard brawler (wild child)/L3 Hunter
Elara Variel: L4 Human witch (fey-touched hexer)
The Great Adolfo: L5 Human swashbuckler (Inspired blade)
Lawrence "Hard" Knox: L4 Half-orc ranger (Divine tracker)
Phoebe Flynn: L4 Human cleric (Undead lord)

Sworn Crew:
rosie cuswell
ratline ratsburger
barefoot samms toppin
fluhtred
claw
sandra quinn
owlbear hartshorn
songer
baaka
ambrose kroop
breaker bones
conchobhat turlach shortstone
randy dandy
guitard
giffer tibbs
badger medlar
crimson cog cogward

Lamashan: 6: start session 6.
7: arrive rickety squibb. Shop. Recruit.
8: depart to twr. See deathknell in evening
9: sail to twr. See hippocampi school in day. See deathknell in evening.
10. Sail to twr. Fight deathknell at night.
11. Arrive at twr. Parley. Consider maps and charts with lady Anastasia smythee.
12. Scrape barnacles montage.
13. Find body on beach and harpies. Go to firewatch isle.

I'm running a game with 7 players so I sometimes need to adapt things just for that reason. I recently wrapped up book 1. Here are my tips for that book....

1. cut the number of days aboard the wormwood by about half. This can be done by only running the days that have an event. Taking the Man's Promise and subsequent mutiny will still feel earned. This is especially true if you have a lot of PCs because that is a lot of ship actions.
2. take Dudemeisters suggestion and run salvage operation. I put a twist into salvage operation. When my players boarded the ship I had them make a sailor check to realize the ship was sinking and their movement would hasten that process. I told them they estimated they had 4 minutes and then wrote right on the battlemat: Rounds (40). After each round I put a tally mark down to make it 100% transparent they were on a clock. In the process we got some cool fights. The party split up to explore faster (you never get that!) and I had scenes where, for example, one PC still on the deck was throwing holy water down through a grate to help a fight on the lower deck. You do need to not punish your players for splitting up. I'm trying to run this game to reward jumping in. I took the suggestion too after the PCs got the treasure (I had it be magical sails), Peppery Longfarthing cast fly on Harrigan, Dimension Door'ed him above the squid, and he dove in the water solo and slew the squid under the water. That really sent a message to my PCs to not mutiny while Harrigan was around.
3. I house-ruled that in the shackles the spell create water is level 3 due to the presence of all the salt water, instead of level 1. This makes needing to find water on Bonewrack more logical, and it will also make the encounter with the Dominator in book 2 more logical.
4. At the end of the book I told my players they knew of three places to squib a ship: 1) rickety squib, 2) kracken cove, and 3) Lilly White. Kracken Cove had the advantage of being closest and cheapest but you had to do your own squibbing (make your own carpentry checks) and the place just gave you the supplies. Lilly White was full service, and you could buy PC magic items easily there too but you had to risk sailing into the shackles. My players chose Kraken Cove. But the main point is I had 3 adventure ideas and it wasn't the illusion of choice - Rickety Squibs stayed on the main path, Kracken Cove had me borrow from the Savage Tide adventure path, and Lilly White would have led into Plunder and Peril. I'm trying to give my players some real freedom (and not just the illusion of freedom) in this campaign.
5. I added an item called the Pieces of Eight (link below). I wanted an item to pull the party together into a team since I placed no restrictions on playing an evil PC. When my players found them they were silver coins with a symbol of Besmara on one side and the image of my players (one each) on the other side. When one of my players went to grab them as loot (they were aboard the ship in salvage operation) I spilled onto the table wooden tokens where I had printed and glued the PCs picture and symbol of Besmara on each side. I spilled them in front of the player and he looked, paused, paused again, and said: I don't want to touch them. He ended up swiping them, but the impact was priceless. In my game, I'm linking to the Savage Tide adventure path so the entity that left them for my players comes from there.

Pieces of Eight:
https://paizo.com/threads/rzs43nr4?New-Artifact-Idea-to-Encourage-Party

In this session my player's take on Kraken's Cove from the Savage Tide adventure Bullywug's Gambit. I have 7 players and they're higher level than recommended for this adventure, so I did two things to make it more challenging. I had them arrive to ship's in the water and a beach littered with kindling. On the far side of the beach were valuables. 3 ballista, 1 catapult, and 2 plunder worth of lumber (the latter more than enough to squib a ship). Each round I rolled for the wind giving the fire a chance to advance through the kindling towards these valuables littering the battlemat. The kindling could be cleared too, blocking the path for the fire to spread. Simultaneously, the party fought the abominations from Kraken's Cove, and I had them come out in waves with a new set of baddies from rooms increasingly deep in the cove coming out each round. It worked perfectly.

Session 5 Notes

Sushi’ – Fire, Salt, and Water

We should have found a quiet cove and idle docks.

Instead, a black column of smoke rose into the sky, curling like a funeral banner. Even before we could see the beach, Captain Knox barked orders—rig for combat. Load the ballistae. Crew ready at sails.

The Isendrak rounded the reef with caution, and there it was: bodies scattered across the sand, and fire dancing on the water’s surface. Whale oil. Sabotage. And yet…

Ballistae. Teak. Siege-grade timber. Crates of equipment. The beach was a battlefield littered with salvage, too valuable to leave behind.

Knox’s voice cut through the wind. “Boats in the water! Get that gear!”

I dove first, body changing mid-leap. My shark form cut through the surf, slicing under the waves toward the beach.

Batrachus was beside me, unafraid. He swam beneath the flames—through the fire—and emerged further down the shore, ready to defend the second pile of teak.

I slipped past barrels and wreckage, and that is when I saw them. Twisted sailors, crouched and waiting, blades glinting like serpent teeth. I turned to warn the others.

Too late.

They struck with fury. Adolfo was the closest, and cutlasses rang off his parrying rapier, even as one heavy blow broke through his defense. I broke the surface and reached him, restoring his breath with a prayer and a palm to his chest. He recovered, and with a flare of style, struck back.

Knox stepped into the fray like a falling mountain. His blade carved arcs of red through pirate flesh.

From down the beach came the roar of Batrachus, distant but unrelenting, his voice echoing over the surf. “Eubels! Left flank! Good boy! Now the one with the crooked jaw! GOOD BOY!”

The hippo barreled through surf and sand, crushing a pirate’s skull in his jaws, as Batrachus bellowed his approval from a hundred feet away.

Still the pirates fought on. Wounded beyond survival, they refused to fall. Ferocity, they called it. Madness, I thought.

We formed a line. Taur’Thalion’s voice rose in song. Phoebe darkened the air with hexes. Elara cursed their steps. I struck with fang, frost, and fury.

Together, we held.

Batrachus cleared the kindling, preserving the timber. The fires hissed at our heels. But we kept them at bay.

Until the roar.

From the cave came a raptor, teeth gleaming, a nightmare given form. It charged into Knox and nearly killed him. Phoebe raced to his side, calling power from the dark to keep him standing.

The tide shifted.

And I knew: we could not fight the fires and the foes. Not both.

I summoned water. A spirit of the tide, elemental and cold. Then a second. I whispered instructions—save the timber. Shield the ship’s future. Let the warriors fight.

Elara hexed. Phoebe lashed out. Adolfo danced around the raptor’s legs, laughing and cutting. Knox struck blow after blow.

And then Taur’Thalion climbed the ballista.

He sighted the beast, sang a note that made even the flames pause—and fired.

The bolt split the raptor’s spine. It collapsed. And yet another wave of frenzied pirates exploded from the cave. Weakened and exhausted, we fought on.

Then she came—a pirate woman, cutting into the backs of the twisted sailors. She shouted names, her own allegiance uncertain.

Knox straightened, bloodied and grim.

“Legitimate salvage!” he roared. The beach was claimed.

Batrachus, bloodied and savage, crashed into the flank, ending what little resistance remained even as he bled out his lifeblood

I turned, summoned one final spell of frost to protect Phoebe—and felt the blade.

As I fell, the world dimmed. Heat and steel faded. I saw movement above me—Adolfo, blades drawn, straddling my body like a shield, refusing to retreat.

All sound blurred.

And I heard it—faint, but proud.

“Good boy, Eubels!”

A warrior does not choose his last words. But these would do.

After the battle we spoke with the pirate woman. Harliss Jarvell, the bold, beauty with raven-black hair. She started out ready to fight us if needed, but mostly wanted answers. She grew frustrated when she realized we had less answers than her. She then got some things off her chest. She explained, through yelling and cussing, blame for the whole situation fell at the feet of Vanthus Quinn. He’d come to buy wares, but in the process tried to rob Harliss of a magical pearl. Harliss stabbed Vanthus, he dropped the pearl, and it cracked like an egg and some of Vanthus blood spattered on the pearl. Then the pearl boiled and a flash of light followed and a green gas spewed from it. After that many on the beach deformed and turned to cannibalistic rage. That damnable pearl turned over three score men into man-eating freaks. Vanthus fled, and Harliss fled into the caves and holed up in the chamber of Captain Kiganted, the keeper of Kraken’s Cove. On the beach we also found Vanthus journal. Seems the cur planned the robbery for months with his lass.

We also found a katana that seemed to call to me, and a shrine of Gozreh that may have called as well. The next day a plum tree omen washed ashore.

Taur'Thalion – In the Wake of Battle, the Whispering Caves

The sea mist had barely settled, and our wounds were still singing, when we turned from the blood-slick beach toward the shadowed caves of Kraken’s Cove.

We found feral halflings in cages, their minds snapped like sun-warped deck boards. They snarled and gibbered—no language left, only hunger. It was Batrachus and Knox who ended their torment. A quick clubbing, no pleasure in it.

We moved deeper.

Phoebe, ever at ease in gloom, led the way. Her little crabs skittered ahead like scouts. Sushi walked with ghost-silent steps. Elara whispered to the cave walls, listening for secrets.

Supplies lay stacked, unburned and untouched—barrels of pitch, crates of fittings, rigging soaked in brine. Kraken Cove’s final breath sealed in these walls.

Then we found it.

A chest carved with swirling knots. Within—a flute of bone and silver, its reed cracked but not broken. When I touched it, it hummed—a whisper of music in my skull. But incomplete. One piece of three. The Legend.

A decade ago the piratical trio Warvil Lanteri, Zara “Stormeyes” and Dahoath il Rahil Harkalm banded together to ply the waters of the Arcadian Ocean. Together they slew the great brine dragon Nicorydine and discovered in her hoard a magical instrument rumored to be the key to accessing the legendary treasure of Jemma Redclaw.

Jemma Redclaw! A generation ago, this fearless captain, then known as Jemma Redblade operated her flagship Fearsome Tide from a secret hideaway. From there she attacked as she wished. Her fame and influence spread. She became overconfident and assaulted Bloodcove with a single ship. Badly defeated, she lost her arm but somehow survived with most of her crew intact. She dismissed her crew and sailed off alone in her captain’s gig. She returned one year later with an enormous clockwork arm of red metal and wielding an exquisite pistol. She recruited a new crew and became famous once again as Jemma Redclaw.

The claw? She told various inconsistent stories. It was custom built in Alkenstar. She stumbled across it in Numeria. She stole it from the Red Redoubt of Karamass outside Absalom. Her reputation grew. She robbed Krakens. Extorted dragons. Rumors abounded that she planned to overthrow the Hurricane King and crown herself. Then she disappeared. Rumors varied. Did she sail into Abendego just to prove she could, or did she challenge the Hurricane King and fall to his blade? Regardless she naught been heard of since.

The trio split the instrument into 3 pieces and agreed whoever lived longest would inherit all of what they came to call “Three Reasons to Live.” From then on, the captains worked together occasionally, but mostly stayed apart after that to limit the temptation to speed one another’s demise. We found one piece. What of the other two?

Elara ran her fingers along the flute fragment. "This wasn’t meant to be hidden forever."

No. It was meant to be played.

And I would see it whole.

Another wonderful find in the Cove. A map. A map of the Shackles. A rare find as Kerdak Bonefist would prefer none exist.

Phoebe - Post-Battle Celebrations

That night, the flames on the water had died, but new ones flickered at our feet.

We made camp just above the high tide line. Kroop served cardamom tea, apricots and dates spread out on a salvaged sail. By midday, we had eaten chickpea-stuffed bread and drank from the spring Sushi had blessed. In the evening, Tangier-spiced camel meat roasted over the coals.

It should have felt like a feast. It did.

Conchobar wandered the camp, prestidigitating mugs of tea into iced comfort. Beer flowed freely from the kegs found aboard the Man’s Promise. Someone rigged a table from plank and pulley.

Laughter began.

Bones joked that Taur'Thalion didn't inspire men, he compelled them. Cog mimed Batrachus' hippo orders with perfect absurdity—"Good boy! Take the left! Crush the ribs! GOOD BOY!"

Even I cracked a smile as my crabs, clicking contentedly, nestled near the fire.

I sat apart, as I often do, but Giffer joined me. She offered me more piercings—"To remind you that you survived." I declined. For now.

Knox passed through the camp like a wandering ghost. He spoke to each of us, offered thanks, asked nothing. When he sat, others followed. When he stood, they quieted. I watched this. Not with envy—but with understanding.

He held the weight of our survival like a coin pressed to his tongue.

And I saw it then, in that flickering firelight:

We had not just survived. We had become.

A crew forged in smoke and salt, in blade and bone.

And still—

Knox kept the fire, but never warmed his hands by it.

Not yet.

But we would thaw him.

One vow at a time.

Adolfo – The Birth of Isendrak

Ah, my sweet darling. She was hideous when we stole her. Clumsy lines, heavy in the stern, her rigging a knotted mess of neglect. A ship with promise, yes—but a woman needs more than promise to make a proper entrance into legend.

And so, under the blistering sun and the suspicious gaze of our Captain, I set to work. This was no simple refit. This was resurrection.

We stripped her down to her bones. The crew hauled away rotted planks and sagging fittings. I measured twice, cut once, and then—just to annoy Knox—measured again. The Captain stood at my shoulder every hour, arms crossed, eyes like a crow at a banquet.

"That’s not true cedar," he’d grumble.

"It is teak," I’d reply, "cut from Kraken’s Cove itself. She deserves no less."

He checked every bolt. Every seam. Every rivet. And I loved him for it.

Because while he watched like a hawk, I created.

I called in the muscle: Batrachus, who can drive a nail with his thumb alone (though he prefers to use his forehead, the lunatic), and Sushi, precise as a surgeon and twice as quiet. Sushi may have had some important role in the squibbing. Who could say? We laid in new beams. We reinforced the deck to hold her new weapons. We burned off the old name and painted the hull in black and steel-grey, accented in blood red.

And then, her weapons.

Three new ballistae—one fore, two aft—mounted with clever pivots. A turret catapult installed middeck, reinforced to withstand recoil and the weight of her wrath. A full complement of weapons now.

We repainted the sails, cut her lines to better catch the wind, rebalanced her trim, and laid new decking stained with oil and smoke.

But it was the figurehead—ah, the figurehead—that made her.

From the cave, among the wreck and bones, we hauled a great reptilian skull, long as a man is tall, with curved horns and steel-fused jawbones. We mounted it on her prow, iron bolts and resin binding it to her keel.

She became something else in that moment.

Not a ship.

A dragon.

Knox stood beside me as we finished. He did not smile. He rarely does.

But he said, "She’ll cut the sea in half."

And that, my friends, is a poet’s praise.

We christened her Isendrak—the Iron Drake – ending the remaining debate about her name. Free Captain Merrill Pegsworthy performed the christening himself, as we had met him a few days earlier when he arrived at Kraken’s Cove to do his own squibbing, and we bonded with the former Eagle Knight.

And when we left Kraken’s Cove, it was not with a stolen vessel, patched and limping.

It was with a beast reborn.

A creature of war.

A ship worthy of song.

And I—well—I am already composing the chorus.

Taur’Thalion – The Song of Flame and Iron

Gather close, ye who’ve braved the salt and storm. Pour the ale, strike the drum, and let the rigging sway—for I shall sing of the Battle of the Burning Wind, when the Isendrak—our Iron Drake—tested her teeth.

It began with a glimmer on the horizon.

Phoebe, sharp-eyed atop the mast, shouted, “Sail!”

Knox, ever the storm-anchored heart of our crew, turned to Elara at the helm. “Run her down,” he said, voice flat as steel drawn before battle.

And we did.

Elara’s hands gripped the wheel like a lover. She spun the Isendrak across the wind, sails snapping full. She rode like a beast unchained—low in the water, hungry for speed.

Adolfo, curse his ego, ran the deck like a maestro. “Loosen the stays! Reel in the leeches! I want every knot this lovely beast can bleed!”

And she bled speed.

We gained the weather gauge—the high ground of the sea. The enemy ship loomed ahead, hull smeared with soot, sails stitched with flame-runes. A war-wizard’s ship. They called her the Scorching Ray. Captained by two brothers. Drow wizards known as The Scorching Rays. Punks.

“She casts fire,” Kroop warned.

Knox grunted. “Then we stay at arm’s reach and beat her to kindling.”

And so we danced.

Phoebe called wind to our sails. Sushi, cold and calculating, manned the ballista. I took my own, Batrachus on the catapult, grumbling about why we couldn’t just leap aboard and end it quick.

Adolfo squeezed the last inch from the rigging, calculating angles, weight, wind. He loaded the turret catapult himself—twice the size of a man, and somehow still beneath him.

“Let’s give them Adolfo's Hello,” he whispered.

Our first volley loosed.

Wood screamed. Flame blossomed from their decks. The Scorching Ray returned fire—ballista bolts arcing through the sky. One crashed near our bow—too near—but Elara turned us on a dime, and we slid past like silk across steel.

Knox barked targets.

“Midships! Reload! Don’t waste the wind I gave you!”

Sushi struck true—a bolt through their rudder shield.

Batrachus hooted as his catapult struck true.

I sang. Oh, I sang.

Not for courage, but for memory—so this moment would not be lost. A thunder hymn, a war-song laced with the names of each of us. Let the waves remember. Let the gulls sing it to the dead.

The Isendrak spun. We crossed their bow. Adolfo lit a flaming bolt and we unloaded all three of our port-side ballistae, and our catapult —into their forward hold.

It exploded with a scream like boiling bone.

The enemy faltered. Their sails sagged.

Knox roared. “Surrender, or we'll strip the flesh from your bones!”

We didn’t need to.

They surrendered.

Floating wreckage marked the site. We gathered the last of their cargo—one final plunder, enough to burst our stores.

The sea was quiet, then.

Too quiet.

And so I sang.

Of fire on water. Of steel on spell. Of a ship born again in battle.

The Isendrak had drawn blood.

She was no longer just ours.

She was her own self now.

And she would want more.

We took the crew of The Scorching Ray, but put the Scorching Rays to the sword. They didn't look trustworthy.

Later that day we encountered a ship breached just above the waterline and taking on water. We boarded to investigate and were ambushed my sahaugin waiting below decks. We defeated the sahuagin with little difficulty, and claimed a valuable necklace of deep platinum.

Later that evening we encountered the nereid Sirella. She lay aboard a rock jutting just above the waves. She beckoned the crew, and all with a twig and berries headed her call jumping directly overboard or boarding the ship’s boat. Elara negotiated, and Sirella took renewed interest somehow sensing a destiny or ancestry about Elara. Sirella backed down asking only for Taur Thalien to spend the evening with her alone, and that he’d be returned unharmed in the morning. Elara still refused. Sirella released Taur Thalien from her thrall and asked him his preference, confidenently expecting affirmation from Taur Thalien. Taur Thalien refused. Sirella let the ship go. She didn’t seem accustomed to rejection.

Notes:

Party after session 5:

Taur'Thalian Sigtrygrrson: L3 Half-elf skald (Dragon skald)
Sushi: L4 Tengu druid (shark-shaman) of Hei Feng
Batrachus: L1 Boggard brawler (wild child)/L3 Hunter
Elara Variel: L4 Human witch (fey-touched hexer)
The Great Adolfo: L3 Human swashbuckler (Inspired blade)
Lawrence "Hard" Knox: L4 Half-orc ranger (Divine tracker)
Phoebe Flynn: L4 Human cleric (Undead lord)

Rova 27: Sail to Kraken Cove and fight the battle of the beach

Rova 28: Explore Kraken’s Cove, battle moray eels, start squibbing the ship

Rova 29: Amphisbanea attack and Captain Merril Pegsworthy arrives.
Rova 30: Squibb

Lamashan 1: Squibb

Lamashan 2: Squibb

Lamashan 3: Squibb

Lamashan 4: Squibb

Lamashan 5: Squibb

Lamashan 6: Depart Kraken’s Cove. Encounter sinking ship and battle sauhaugin ambush, defeat the Scorching Rays about The Scorching Ray. Encounter Nereid Sirella. Expectation: If you sail through the night you’ll reach Rickety Squibb’s tomorrow.

Crew:

Sworn Loyal:
Artful Roger

Breaker Bones (must be hit twice in one ship combat to die)

Conchobahar Shortstone

Badger Medlar

Rosie Cuswell

Sandara Quinn (can revive 1 defeated crew at the end of ship combat)

Ambrose Kroop (1 in 10 chance can save a plunder of expenses when arriving at a port)

Jack Scrimshaw

Ratline Rattsberger (+3 ship officer checks [vs normal +2] when acting as an NPC officer)

Owlbear Hartshorn

Crimson “Cog” Cogward

Giffer Tibbs

Barefoot Samms Toppin

Aboard:

Ahmed

Baaka (can attempt carpentry aid another roles with +2)

4 additional unnamed Rhadoumi sailors

10 unnamed sailors from The Scorching Ray

Harliss Javell
Total crew with PCs: 37

Party after session 4:

Taur'Thalian Sigtrygrrson: L2 Half-elf skald (Dragon skald)
Sushi: L2 Tengu druid (shark-shaman) of Hei Feng
Batrachus: L1 Boggard brawler (wild child)/L2 Hunter
Elara Variel: L2 Human witch (fey-touched hexer)
The Great Adolfo: L1 Human swashbuckler (Inspired blade)
Lawrence "Hard" Knox: L3 Half-orc ranger (Divine tracker)
Phoebe Flynn: L3 Human cleric (Undead lord)\

Current crew: 7 PCs, 6 Rhadoumi led by Akhmed, Sandara, Rosie, Samms, Ratline, Jack, Giffer, Conchobar, Bones, Kroop, Owlbear, Cog, Roger, Medlar: 26

Session 4: Bonewrack Isle. From Elara Variel's perspective...

It's Rova 23 I think, I'm trying to keep track because the sooner I find Vance, the sooner I can find my love and so far I have hardly any leads. I need to get to busy port and get some information. For now, I'm hoping I get to learn more about these new powers I have. This team is resourceful and that can only help.
I do wish I was back in Port Peril with my love and partaking in the Swallowtail Festival with everyone, but for now I will just focus on my mission.
We are heading towards Kraken's Cove to get our ship squibbed. I've heard great things about this place and this crew is talented, we just need to get there and keep out of Harrigan's pursuit. So far, we've been on the right track. Captain Knox and Ship Surgeon Sushi confirmed we are taking the best approach, but we are heading into some foul weather. Well it feels a little weird to call them by these new titles since I haven't known them very long, but they seem very capable of these jobs. I'm going to help the crew prepare for the worst.
I noticed that Batrachus was talking to Jack Scrimshaw. Jack is a mystery to me. He doesn't seem to light up when he sees me like most people do. I must get him to see me for the true me. He will love me just like everyone else.

It's been a rough day or should I say days? Is it Rova 26 now?

My new friend Phoebe is coming into her role as lookout! She actually spotted a brigantine ship in the distance ahead of us. I didn't recognize the flag, but Knox wanted us to gun down it's sails. It wasn't a bad idea, and we are fast! The crew really came together, Sushi altered winds, I kept us moving at a fast clip, and Captain Knox was keeping us all motivated to do our best. Batrachus manned the guns and with me rocking the boat and increased gust from Sushi, we were able to get one of their sails down! It was quite exciting.

We were able to secure two barrels of cinnamon (1 plundar!) from the Gilded Serpant which will go towards the squibbing of our ship. Unfortunately, no one on that ship knew anything about Vance. I will keep searching!

Sushi and Captain Knox spotted something in the water near the Gilded Serpant and Batrachus swam down effortlessly to check it out.
Turned out to be 3 barrels of some black/blueish flecks. Smelled like blood, but we think it's worth 3 plundar so that will come in handy later. Strange thing was that they were chained down, so those scallywags on the Gilden Serpent were keeping this from us. Soon noone will be keeping things like this from us.

We had to prepare for the storm, but a strange creature was on our mast. It was looking right at me and it was so frustrating because I couldn't understand what the hell it was saying. Something like "sul-varesh-zephereth" I can't stop thinking about it. Wimp ran away and didn't give us a chance to capture him.

Not a minute later, and right as we were in the storm we got attacked by a creature I can't say I was familiar with, called a grindylow. Boy am I an expert in them now. Little jerks kept talking about bringing others to their "mother" and then we found that Rosie and Mustafa were missing. It was terrible, but we got rid of the ones on the boat. We thought about where these grindylows could have taken our crew members. Then it was just one thing after another. I have never encountered so many difficulties in one day before, but I guess that's the price I pay to find Vance for the hag.

Right after we came out of the storm we realized we were slightly off course, and we were about to adjust when we heard and felt a loud bang under the ship's hull. We were ok, but our boat was damaged after scraping against a large coral reef. And looking around as the sun came up, we realized we were at a small island. Batrachus identified the issue with the ship and, I was surprised that something that could barely speak coherently was able to pinpoint the damage in the bilges, and determine how to fix it with such skill. The crew agreed and our team set off for the island we had in front of us. It looked swampy and mountainous all at once, but we knew we had to check it out because our last barrel of water had gotten destroyed in the mishap. Captain Knox realized that we actually had marooned on Bonerack Isle. I shudder at the thought of it now, and what we all have been through. Before we set off, the crew felt the need to throw us some of their most prized possessions to help us with our mission of finding water. We got the feeling we might be seeing some mosquitos when Batrachus was handed a swarmsuit and vermin repellant.

We set off down a trail where Sushi and Cap. Knox saw human and hippo footprints, and then an actual baby hippo came walking up to Batrachus. He seemed to really like us and Batrachus insisted it was a sign from his God, so we let him come with us. I thought he was pretty cute and matched my hair, so I liked the idea. Turns out those things pack a mean bite and can sure carry their weight in loot.
Batrachus also found an old map in a washed up bottle. I tucked it away for later, but if we pass Lurching Mountain or Raugsmauda's Reach, we might have to see if this old Captain Bellbrey still exists.

This was just the beginning. We had to get across an old decrepit bridge and get around some type of sludge that seemed to suck things in, but all that while also fighting off two large frogs that believe it or not, didn't look a thing like Batrachus. More frog type things who knew? They were not friendly and they were taken out quickly. Batrachus got us across the bog one by one.

Even though on the trail, we were swarmed by some gross mosquitos but we realized the alchemist fires our friends gave us were very handy for killing them. Phoebe also seemed to have a knack with the swarm and I felt very comforted by that. So far, this island seemed like nightmare.

We tried to stay on the trail and eventually found a clearing with a large treehouse looking thing in the center. Seemed perfectly normal, but then three gray people walked out - they were actually not alive, but they were moving and talking and in the "mood" - it was very weird. I was happy to try to give them the Evil Eye, but then Phoebe said this weird stuff and all of a sudden one of them really liked Phoebe and apparently became her best friend. We actually learned all about where the water was. Unfortunately, it was behind a stockade. Captain Knox had a great plan to draw out whatever was behind the stockade. We learned that there was another Captain back there (Captain Aaron Ivy) so rather than try to break in, we thought I could draw him out. Seemed perfectly reasonable to me! I tried my best, but I didn't get any response and actually the entrance to the stockade was wide open, so I figured maybe the guy was out hunting or something. I could see the water and it looked awesome. Unfortunately, what happened next was a blur. My life flashed before my eyes as well as two gross plant-looking things who tangled me up and depleted all my energy. When I woke up they were gone and Sushi was by my side with a potion bottle in his hand. I knew in that moment these people were really my friends and I would risk my life for them again if it came to it. We still needed water, but there was an old dilapidated building we needed to investigate since we never found Aaron Ivy.

I decided to stay back with the hippo, who Batrachus named Eubols and honestly I need to come up with a nickname for him because he's too cute for that name which sounds like I have to spit out some seaweed every time I say it. Maybe I'll call him BB.

Anyway, the brave Captain Knox, Phoebe, and Batrachus went storming into the building and seemed to get ravaged by another swarm of bugs - it was different but just as scary. I also then found out that inside the building was a dead but not dead Captain Aaron Ivy. Luckily team clubs, axes, and swords took care of that scary house.
There was a spyglass set up and Batrachus took a look - just as some predicted it was pointed at a particular spot where more of those grindylows were playing around and they looked like they had the Rosie and Mustafa's stuff. The Captain felt we should rescue our crew and we agreed, but not until after we took a rest inside of the stockade.

It was a glorious rest and I could have sworn that our friend Tarthalian was with us, but I think it was just a dream... speaking of dreams I do remember part of my dream, it was of city underwater that is apparently called Hyrantum, my friends told me. It seemed so cold and scary. I sure miss my bed in Port Peril. But we had to press on, we had gotten water from the natural spring, but our crew did not.

We made our way to their cave in the middle of the night and it was not easy. I started to get more and more worried if we were going to get our crew back. More thoughts started entering my head because I really can't swim that well and it looked like the entrance was through the water. I made an air bubble around my head and had to try out the swimming thing. I think I could get better at this, but it was very very slow. What happened next was like watching a slow motion tragedy.

We started off strong with Batrachus quickly taking out a couple of grindylows (yes we were in the right place, but where were our friends) but then the cave was so windy and some of the water was pretty deep. Luckily Captain Knox was able to carry me for the hard times and that really helped. We found two lacedons, I think someone called them, under a grate; Batrachus and Knox skillfully took them out through that iron grate! It was successful, and we got some loot out of it, so ends justify the means I guess. We also fought something called stirges. Bird/bat like things and they seemed to make folks extra tired when they actually got a bite off. Can't be good. We were not in good shape though and quickly running out of healing.

We then came upon a huge monster with tentacles and a large gaping mouth. This seemed like it could maybe be the mother they were talking about. Maybe our friends were nearby. It was hard to stay in the water and also stay out of attack range. The group ended up taking it out, but not before Sushi was laid bare and had the life sucked out of him. Now it was my turn to help my friend. I slowly made my way over to him. Meanwhile 10 grindylows and more stirges came in for the attack. We held them off from a small patch of dry land and I was able to get the potion down Sushi's throat. He didn't dare move but he strategically attacked from his spot while Knox, Phoebe Batrachus held off all of the things coming at us. I tried to reason with them, but the grindylows only kept attacking and saying mother was still in danger. I also tried a sleep tactic, but only a couple succumbed to this spell. I'll remember that for the future. Unfortunately, Sushi was not so fortunate to be able to avoid the barrage of attacks and I saw him breathe what I thought was his last breath. While we knew Phoebe could take out the entire group with one channel, we couldn't risk hurting ourselves in the process, so Batrachus and Knox and BB continued their pummeling until the last grindylow was finally vaporized.

In the aftermath, we found a huge jawbone with a spell written on it. Phoebe read the spell successfully and Sushi was with us once again. I was happy to continue on with our full team, but was torn between wanting to leave and wanting to find this "mother". They also spoke of a "whale" and we weren't sure what that would entail.
After wandering around for a while we realized we were actually right next to where the "mother" was hiding all along. She did have our crew! She released them to drown in the water with two lacedons poised to attack. They were weighed down, so they splashed into the water right in front of us and began sinking immediately. Once again, not really sure if we were up for this task, we somehow felt compelled to at least try and began moving on the "whale." I hexed that ugly whale guy and then Batrachus and BB made quick work of him. Mother seemed to have started casting a spell, but Phoebe was able to draw some positive energy to her and it was just enough to disrupt her spell! Batrachus was able to get in and kill her. Meanwhile, Captain Knox and Sushi were making their way down to the bottom to rescue our crew from the lacedons. Phoebe then someone wooed one of the lacedons, but not before the other lacedon had tore into and killed Mustafa. The friendly lacedon then piled on the other one with Knox and we were able to set Rosie free. She was alive!

At least all of this was not for nothing, but I was positively exhausted in the aftermath of everything. I really would just like to have some calm seas as we head towards Kraken's Cove.

Party after session 3:

Taur'Thalian Sigtrygrrson: L2 Half-elf skald (Dragon skald)
Sushi: L2 Tengu druid (shark-shaman) of Hei Feng
Batrachus: L1 Boggard brawler/L1 Hunter (wild child)
Elara Variel: L2 Human witch (fey-touched hexer)
The Great Adolfo: L1 Human swashbuckler (Inspired blade)
Lawrence "Hard" Knox: L3 Half-orc ranger (Divine tracker)
Phoebe Flynn: L2 Human cleric (Undead lord)

Session 3...

The Bilge Betrayal:
The moment Adolfo was assigned to bilge duty alone, suspicion flared in his gut like a warning bell. Knox caught his eye from across the deck, his own expression dark with concern. It was too convenient—everyone else had been placed topside, either on deck or high in the rigging. And then, as if to confirm their fears, Mr. Plugg sneered, "No weapons belowdecks, Adolfo."

Knox, always quick, stepped forward. "I’ll hold your rapier for you."

Adolfo hesitated, then shook his head. "I’ll put it in my locker." A weapon in Knox’s hands meant safety, but a missing weapon could be questioned. Instead, he slipped a dagger into his clothing, hidden from sight. A precaution.

When the bilge hatch slammed shut above him, the true nature of his assignment became clear. Fipps Chumlett and Crimson Cogward were already waiting in the murky water, grinning like sharks. And, they had knives.

"Wrong place at the wrong time, Adolfo," Crimson taunted, drawing his blade.

Adolfo didn’t wait. He moved.

A feint to the left, a twist to the right—his acrobatics carried him between them as their blades sliced empty air. He leapt for the ladder, hands finding purchase as he climbed with all the speed of a man whose life depended on it. Fipps lunged, catching Adolfo’s foot, but he reacted instantly—slamming his heel into Fipps' face with a sickening crack.

Adolfo vaulted out of the bilge, skidding onto the deck and bellowing across the ship: "Charlatans! Murderers! They're breaking the Code!"

High above, Knox heard him. His head snapped toward the commotion, eyes narrowing. He didn’t hesitate. "The Code is broken!" he roared to the rest of the crew.

With practiced speed, Knox slid down the rigging like a striking serpent, hit the deck, and dived through the cargo hatch, landing just outside the bilge hatch—right as Adolfo slammed it shut.

"Open it!" Knox barked, reaching for the handle.

Instead, Adolfo yanked out his hidden dagger and wedged it into the hatch, barring it from opening.

"Damn it, Adolfo!" Knox growled, fury sparking. "Let me in so I can gut them!"

Before the argument could escalate, Batrachus hit the deck with a heavy thud, frog-leaping next to the bilge hatch. Behind him, the rest of the crew hurried below, drawn by the chaos.

Adolfo finally relented, yanking his dagger free and throwing the hatch open.

Knox dropped down first, greatsword flashing in the dim light. His blade crashed into Fipps, knocking the brute unconscious in one brutal swing. Fipps collapsed onto Crimson, crushing him beneath his bulk.

Batrachus followed, leaping down with all his amphibian might—only to slip on the filth and blood, crashing hard into the bilge.

Adolfo, ever opportunistic, used the moment to sneak his dagger against his own clothing, tearing a small hole in his shirt and armor. When the officers arrived, it would be best if he looked the part of a victim.

The inevitable arrival of Mr. Plugg and Master Scourge ended the chaos, their voices cutting through the air like whips. "That’s enough! Stop this at once!"

The fight was over, but Knox and Batrachus weren’t finished. They loomed over Crimson, their gazes dark with purpose.

Knox leaned in first, voice low and sharp. "You’re either with us, or you’re fish bait."

Batrachus grinned, his wide mouth filled with teeth. "Or I could eat you myself."

Crimson, pale and trembling, swallowed hard and nodded. "I’m with you."

That night, as the ship settled, Adolfo regaled the crew with the tale of his daring escape, weaving words like a master storyteller. His version of the events painted him as the lone, outnumbered rogue, fighting against treachery with only his wits. Knox and Taur’Thalion, seizing the moment, finally broke through to Breaker Bones. The once-hostile crewman smirked, shaking his head at their antics—but for the first time, he laughed with them, not at them.

The tides were shifting.

The Storming of the Man’s Promise
From the Perspective of Adolfo
The salty wind howled between the ships as the Wyrmwood closed the gap on the Man’s Promise. The orders were clear: grapple over, clear the sterncastle, take the wheel, and prevent escape. And it fell to Adolfo to lead the charge.

Knox had already begun raining arrows into the enemy’s ranks, his shots precise as ever. Two sailors crumpled, lifeless, and another toppled overboard. Enara’s spell took hold of a fourth, sending them slumping to the deck in unnatural slumber. Taur’Thalion, never one to miss a beat, fired his crossbow, the bolt embedding itself deep into the woodwork near the enemy helmsman.

Adolfo, already moving, climbed into the rigging, intending to swing heroically across to the enemy ship. Just as he reached the highest point of his arc, two enemy crossbow bolts struck him squarely in the chest. The pain stole his breath, and the next moment, he was plummeting—hard—onto the Wyrmwood’s deck. The world tilted. Darkness threatened to take him.

Then, a cool wave of healing magic snapped him back to life.

Sushi’s magic coursed through him, mending torn flesh, and Adolfo gasped as breath flooded his lungs once more. There was no time for gratitude; the assault was on.

The Leap to War
Batrachus made the first leap, vaulting across the gap and landing with a crash, his club sending an enemy sprawling. Knox, ever efficient, shot another crewman dead before Phoebe threw the boarding grapple, securing their passage.

Adolfo clenched his teeth and leapt across, blade drawn, landing lightly and rolling to his feet. Behind him, Taur’Thalion followed, his voice lifting in a fierce battle hymn that sent adrenaline surging through their veins. The sterncastle had to be cleared.

The fight was swift and brutal. Elara's hexes flew, Sushi's ice shards skewered. Phoebe radiated death across the deck. They tore through the defenders, cutting them down as they scrambled to protect the helm. Just then, Captain Harrigan charged across the deck toward the lower levels, intent on carving his own path. But an unseen enemy moved to intercept him.

Batrachus saw it first. He flung himself onto the would-be assassin, crushing him beneath his weight. Harrigan gave a curt nod before disappearing below. Their position was secured—but the battle was far from over.

Death From Above
They barely had time to breathe before a halfling sniper appeared, raining death from above. Adolfo caught sight of Knox, their minds moving in unison. No words were needed.

They leapt into the rigging. Knox from one side, Adolfo from the other. Their blades struck home in unison, and the sniper let out a strangled cry before toppling from his perch.

But their triumph was short-lived.

From the chaos below, a woman emerged, wielding a wicked, elongated spear. With a terrible, twisting motion, she skewered Batrachus through the heart. The big Bullywug let out a choked sound, eyes wide with surprise, and then—he fell.

For a moment, all sound ceased. Then, rage boiled over.

Blood and Vengeance
Phoebe squared off against two enemies. With a word and a look she struck the fear of death into one, and fended off the other. Elara dodged and hexed while Taur'Thalion dropped another enemy with a blow from his axe. Adolfo and Knox swung down from the rigging, their fury lending them speed. They weaved and dodged through the enemies - seeking advantage, ever circling. Knox struck first. With a brutal slash, he cut the spearwoman down as she leapt for a lifeboat, her blood staining the deck.

The crew, still stunned by Batrachus’ fall, found their second wind. Taur’Thalion led the charge, his voice carrying them forward, and together, they swept through the remaining enemy sailors, cutting them down one by one.

It wasn’t until the battle ended that they noticed Sushi had fallen. Phoebe rushed to his side, her magic pulling him back from the brink.

Victory and Resurrection
Below deck, the echoes of battle faded. Explosions and the clash of steel gave way to silence. Then, Captain Harrigan emerged, blood dripping from his blade, holding a still-beating heart in his hand.

The fight was over. The Man’s Promise was theirs.

And yet, their victory was marred by loss. They gathered around Batrachus’ fallen form, his lifeless body an undeniable weight in their triumph.

Among the spoils of war, they found gold, potions, and a magical cutlass. But none of it mattered more than what they decided next.

Adolfo, bloodied but standing, looked to the others. "We trade the cutlass for a scroll. We bring him back."

No one hesitated. Batrachus would return.

Knox’s Ascension: The Claiming of the Man’s Promise
The day aboard Man’s Promise was grueling. No breaks. No rest. Just endless toil under Plug and Scourge’s cruel command. We all knew it—if we didn’t act soon, they’d work us to the bone and dump our corpses in the sea when we were too weak to fight back. Mutiny wasn’t a question anymore. It was an inevitability.

We were locked belowdecks, exhausted, but the moment the hatch shut, I turned to Adolfo. He already knew what was coming. “It has to be now.”

We debated, but we both knew the truth. We had one shot.

Sandara cut through our hesitation like a blade through soft belly. “We should have attacked four hours ago. Let’s go!”

But then Adolfo tensed. “Wait. Where’s Syl?”

Slippery Syl was gone.

"We go now," I growled, and that was it. No more debating. Action.

Batrachus and Taur’Thalion fell on Narwhal Taint, silencing him in an instant. No alarms. No warning. Just cold, brutal efficiency. Meanwhile, Adolfo yanked open the secret trapdoor we had found the night before, and we were moving.

The Battle for the Ship
We barely made it into the Captain’s Quarters when the alarm was raised. “They’re coming up! Into the Cap’n’s cabin!”

No more surprise. Only blood.

Adolfo was first out. The moment the doors flung open, a blistering storm of arrows, bolts, and axes rained down on him.

And then we saw something new—he raised a shimmering arcane shield. Magic. I’d known the clever bastard for weeks, and he’d never once breathed a word of it. Yet here he was, deflecting a lethal barrage like it was nothing.

But he wasn’t untouchable. Two bolts struck home, and he bled onto the deck.

Chained beside the door, Owlbear bellowed, "Free Owlbear. I fight!"

Even wounded and under fire, Adolfo moved with that effortless grace. Click. Click. The chains fell, and Owlbear surged to his feet.

Then it was my turn.

I didn’t hesitate. I didn’t think. I acted.

I burst through the doors, my greatsword already swinging. All the anger, all the fury, all the pent-up rage from the last two weeks—focused into a single, perfect cut.

One of Plug’s loyalists barely had time to scream before I cleaved her in half.

"Who’s next?" I roared, my voice cutting through the chaos.

The Tide Turns
Taur’Thalion arrived, his battle hymn ringing in our ears.

From below, Elara hexed one enemy after another, sending them stumbling.

Sushi conjured a massive centipede, its monstrous form throwing itself into the fray. He followed it with icicles from his feathered hands.

And then came Scourge.

His whip lashed out, his cutlass gleamed, and he dodged through the battle like a snake in the reeds. He struck at Owlbear, snarling orders like he could still command this ship.

He was dead wrong.

With a roar, I surged through the chaos, my greatsword lifted high. Taur’Thalion’s song drove me forward.

Scourge turned, but he was too slow. My blade came down and took his head and shoulder in one massive swing. Blood spattered across the deck.

Scourge was gone.

The Final Clash
That left Plug.

The treacherous bastard stepped forward, his cutlass raised. Then he pointed it at me, and a torrent of water shot out, nearly blasting me off the ship.

Badger leapt into the fray, spear in hand, and showed us why she had survived so long.

She skewered Owlbear, Taur’Thalion, and even Sandara as she tried to heal Adolfo. Her speed was terrifying.

Artful Roger danced through the battlefield, his rapier flashing. He disarmed Taur’Thalion with a flick of his wrist, sending his weapon spinning across the deck.

The battle was turning against us.

Then Batrachus stormed from the Captain’s Quarters.

His greatclub smashed into Artful Roger’s skull, sending the prancing bastard sprawling.

Breaker Bones burst through the rear hatch, his waraxe cleaving through one enemy while his shield slammed into another. I knew that tough bastard would be worth the work.

From below, Phoebe sent Crimson Cog running in terror.

The fight was on a knife’s edge.

The End of Plug
I didn’t care about the others. Not anymore. There was only one target that mattered.

I pushed forward, ignoring the pain as Badger’s spear tore through my side.

I wanted Plug. The f*!~er who allowed such s!** discipline - who failed so completely to lead.

He was dueling Batrachus, his cutlass flashing in wide, practiced arcs.

He was strong.

He was skilled.

He was... distracted.

With a growl, I brought my greatsword down in a single, earth-shattering arc. Plug barely had time to turn—

I cleaved him in two.

Blood splattered across the deck. His body crumpled.

I lifted my sword high and roared for all to hear.

"Surrender, or die!"

Weapons clattered to the deck.

The ship was mine.

The Man’s Promise belonged to Captain Knox. All that remained was for everyone else to realize it.

Party after session 2:

Taur'Thalian Sigtrygrrson: L2 Half-elf skald (Dragon skald)
Sushi: L1 Tengu druid (shark-shaman) of Hei Feng
Batrachus: L1 Boggard brawler/L1 Hunter (wild child)
Elara Variel: L1 Human witch (fey-touched hexer)
The Great Adolfo: L1 Human swashbuckler (Inspired blade)
Lawrence "Hard" Knox: L2 Half-orc ranger (Divine tracker)
Phoebe Flynn: L2 Human cleric (Undead lord)

Summary of Session 2. I added the Dungeon adventure Salvage Operation into here as per Dudemeister's recommendation. I also added an artifact of my own design (and described elsewhere) - The Pieces of Eight - in this session too. One of my players wrote this up, and alternates the perspective of the author for each section...he did a great job.

Day 5: The Storm and the Sea – As Told by Barefoot Samms
I should’ve died today. Should’ve gone down to the deep, lungs burnin', the salt claimin’ me like it’s claimed so many before. My body left to drift, bones picked clean by the sea’s hungry mouths. But I didn’t. And it ain’t ‘cause of luck. It’s ‘cause of them.

The storm came sudden-like, as they do in these cursed waters. The Wyrmwood pitched and rolled, waves high as mountains crashin’ down, wind screamin' through the rigging like the wailin’ of the dead. I was up high, too high, lashed to the lines, tryin’ to hold fast while the ship fought to shake me loose. Every rope I grabbed turned slick with rain, and the wood beneath my bare feet felt more treacherous than ever.

I saw it comin’ too late—the swell that reared up like a beast outta hell. It hit the hull hard, and next thing I knew, I was weightless. Fallin’.

The scream never made it past my lips, swallowed by the wind as I plunged into the black water below.

The sea... it’s not like the land. When you fall in, the sea don’t catch you gentle-like. It takes you. It drags you down, down, deeper, into the cold where your heart beats too fast, then too slow. I thrashed, fightin’ it, but the cold was already in my bones, and my clothes pulled me deeper. I tried to claw my way back up, see the light, the ship, anything—but all I saw was black.

Then, through the roar of the storm and the hammerin' of my own heartbeat, I heard 'em.

Knox. Big, mean, steady-as-the-tide Knox. He hit the water like a damned harpoon, strong strokes cuttin’ through the waves. Right behind him, Batrachus, all froggy and slick, movin’ through the water like he belonged there more than on land.

I reached, but the sea wanted me more than they did. I felt my fingers slipping, legs like lead, and I thought, this is it.

Then Knox grabbed me. His grip was like iron, haulin’ me up from the abyss while Batrachus kicked alongside, his big bulgin’ eyes dartin’ about like he was expectin’ somethin’ worse to come outta the dark. Maybe he was right. Maybe somethin’ was watchin’ from below. Ain’t no way to tell.

But it weren’t over. Even with me hauled up, the ship was gettin’ farther away, each wave shovin’ us back. And that’s when I saw Adolfo—damned man had rope in his hands, and instead of throwin' it like any sane person would, he’s building somethin’. A pulley. The fool was makin’ a bloody pulley in the middle of a storm!

I thought we were done for. I thought, this is it, we’re done. But Adolfo? He’s fast. He’s smart. And when that rope came down, Knox wrapped it round me and held fast, haulin’ me through the water with all the strength he had left.

And Taur’Thalian? That man sang. Sang. While I was drownin’, while Knox was pullin’, while Adolfo was riggin’—he sang through the storm like it were nothin'. And damn if it didn’t help. Kept us pushin’, kept us fightin’, and when the ship pulled us aboard, I swore I heard him still hummin'.

I hit the deck, coughin’ up more seawater than I thought a body could hold. The crew laughed, cheerin’, jeerin’, callin’ me a fool for fallin’ in, but I didn’t care. I was alive.

And I knew, right then and there—without them? I’d be bones on the ocean floor.

Knox, Taur’Thalian, Adolfo, Batrachus... even Sushi and Flynn, though they weren’t much help today, they’d all stood together. A proper crew.

And me? I owe ‘em my life. I don’t forget debts like that. Not ever.

The Big Fight – As Told by Owlbear Harshorn
Owlbear don’t like fightin’. Not really. Fightin’ hurts. But Mr. Plugg says, “Fight, Owlbear! Show ‘em what you’re made of!” And Owlbear does what Mr. Plugg says, ‘cause Mr. Plugg gives him food sometimes. Not always good food, but food’s food, and Owlbear don’t complain much.

So, when they dragged him outta his place and put him in front of the crew, Owlbear knew what was comin’. The crew all hollerin’ and laughin’, and there standin’ there in front of him—some kinda frog-man. Big eyes. Funny smell. Not like the usual ones they throw at him.

“Fight, Owlbear!” they shout.

Owlbear don’t wanna, but he gotta. Mr. Plugg's watchin’.

The frog-man starts jumpin’ ‘round, real quick-like. Owlbear tries to hit him, but the frog is slippery. Too slippery. Hits him hard—bam!—right in the gut. Owlbear don’t like that. Hurts bad. Feels it deep. He swings back, but frog’s already movin’, bouncin’ like a fish that don’t wanna be caught.

Owlbear’s fists feel slow, heavy. The frog-man ain’t slow. He’s fast. Fast like the little crabs Owlbear tries to catch in the hold. And then—bam!—another hit, and Owlbear’s head rings like when the ship creaks too loud in the night.

The crew’s laughin’ now, shoutin' things like “Give ‘im another!” and “Croak ‘im good!” Owlbear don’t like laughin’. Laughin’ means he’s losin’. Mr. Plugg don’t like losin’. Owlbear don’t wanna get whipped again. He tries hard, real hard, swingin’ big, puttin’ all his strength into it. But the frog-man? He don’t get hit. Owlbear gets hit. Again.

Owlbear thinks, maybe, he gonna lose. Maybe the frog-man gonna win. Then, Owlbear feels somethin’ strange. Frog-man stops. Stops hittin’. Stops jumpin’. Just stands there, lookin’ at him all strange.

And Owlbear don’t know why... but he don’t hit him back.

Nobody’s ever stopped before. Nobody’s ever looked at him like that. Like he’s more than just someone to hit. Owlbear blinks, rubbin’ his sore spots, lookin’ at the frog-man. Crew still cheerin', still laughin', but Owlbear don’t care much no more.

Frog-man coulda hit him again. But he didn’t. Owlbear don’t know why. But he thinks... maybe frog-man not so bad. Maybe frog-man knows what it’s like to get hit too much.

When the fight’s done, and Mr. Plugg’s scowlin’, Owlbear waddles over to the frog-man. He don’t say much—Owlbear ain’t good with words—but he nods. Frog-man nods back.

Owlbear thinks... maybe frog-man is a friend. Maybe.

Day 6: The Rigging Rumble – Narwhal Taint’s Take
Narwhal Taint sat on a coil of rope, nursing his bruised pride and a sore back, muttering curses under his breath. Day 6 aboard the Wyrmwood had been a fine day—until it wasn't.

"Knox," he spat, practically tasting the name in his mouth. The big bastard had been getting too comfortable, walking around like he owned the place. Sure, he was strong, sure, he had the know-how, but Narwhal wasn't about to let some half-orc usurper make a fool of him. No sir.

So he did what any good pirate with a grudge and half a brain would do—he meddled. Slipped a knot here, loosened a rope there. Nothing too obvious, but enough to make Knox’s work slow and sloppy. That would show him who really knew their way around a ship. But what does the thick-headed oaf do? He stomps right up to Narwhal, eyes burning with that usual too-serious look of his, and tries to scare him. Intimidation, like Narwhal hadn't seen it all before.

"Back off, Taint," Knox had growled, looming like a storm cloud, fists clenched tight enough to crush an anchor.

Narwhal just grinned, showing his yellowed teeth. "Make me."

And oh, he did.

Before Narwhal could spit out another insult, Knox’s fists came down like a thunderstorm, quicker than a shark in the shallows. Narwhal, slippery and tough, dodged once—twice—but then? Bam! One clean hit to the jaw and he was seeing stars. Didn't even land a solid punch on the bastard.

Of course, Scourge wasn't one to let a good fight go unpunished, even if he'd probably enjoyed watching Knox smack him around. Both of them got three lashes at Bloody Hour, the sting of the cat-o’-nine still burned deep, but that wasn't the worst of it.

Oh no, the worst came later, when he and Slippery Syl decided they weren't done with Knox. They had themselves a little plan—cut a rope here, shove a half-orc there. Real nice and quiet-like. Except... Knox didn't die. Just fell, hit the deck, got right back up with a look in his eye that said, I'll be back for you. And, worse, the oaf was immediately healed by both Sushi and Sandara. Clear where their loyalties lie.

And now? Now Narwhal was sitting in the shadows, rubbing his bruised ribs and thinking. He knew he’d have to be smarter next time. Maybe a little patience, maybe a little more subtlety. Knox wouldn’t fall for the same trick twice, but Narwhal wasn’t done yet. Oh no.

"Next time, big man," he muttered to himself, spitting over the side of the ship. "Next time, you ain't gettin' back up."

Day 7: The Hunt Begins – As Told by Batrachus
Today be a good day. Not no rope-haulin', not no scrubbin’ decks—just huntin'. That’s the way of things, aye? That’s the way it ought to be. They say, “Go out an’ fetch crabs,” like it be some dull work. Ha! Work? No, this be the hunt. Food means life. Life means power. And power? It belongs to them what takes it. Glory to Gogunta, she who fills the bellies of the strong and leaves the weak for the muck.

They gave us barrels to haul back the catch, but no boats—not even a scrap of wood. "Swim," they said. "Swim or drown." Just like home in the swamp. Only difference is, here it’s salt instead of muck, and sharks instead of crocs. Me and Knox, we took the weak ones—Sushi and Flynn—tied ‘em up to the barrels, and dragged 'em along like a couple of fattened frogs on a festival day.

Knox, he swims with strength, cuts through the water like he owns it. A proper hunter, if he’d just let himself enjoy it. But me? I swam with purpose, with glory, every stroke a prayer to Gogunta.

The Reef Shows Its Teeth
First, we had to get there, fight the waves and the weight of them we towed. I kept thinkin’—if one of them slipped under, what then? Would it be okay to let 'em go? Maybe just a little? But no, not yet. Not ‘til I know the rules better. The Wyrmwood be full of strange ways—can’t gut a man without someone shoutin', but the sea? She’s always hungry, and no one blames the tide for takin' what’s weak.

Then, out there on the reef, it was just us and the hunt. I saw it first—the reefclaw. Big, mean, and foolish enough to think itself the apex here. I grinned wide, feeling the hunt stir in my gut. I lashed out with my spear, feelin’ the crunch of shell and the burst of blood in the water. Yes. Gogunta watches. She sees me. She smiles.

Knox, nearby, was tanglin’ with his own reefclaw, hacking it down with that great sword of his. He’s strong, aye, but he fights like he’s still bound by rules—focused, steady, no joy in it. Where’s the hunger, Knox? Where’s the glory?

And then there was that sneaky archer fish, spittin’ at me like it thought it could outwit me. Fool. I drove my spear true and took it down, feeling its life slip away in my hands. That’s how it should be—take what’s yours, leave nothin’ behind.

The Odd Ones
Flynn, she did her part, I s’pose. Called on that dark magic of hers and dropped a giant shrew with a whisper and a glare. She don’t fight fair, but I respect it. Death is death, no matter how it comes. But I wonder—what else does she whisper to in the dark?

And Sushi? He’s got no sense for the hunt. He floundered about, mutterin' about balance and fairness, but there ain’t no fairness in the water. You fight, you take, or you end up in some belly. That’s the way. Maybe one day he’ll learn it.

Taur’Thalian swam fine, singin’ to himself like always, but it don’t make no sense to me. What good’s a song when the reefclaw’s at your throat? He’s got his own way of huntin’, though—words instead of spears. The crew listens to him, and that’s its own kind of power. Might be worth watchin'.

The Return and the Future
Haulin’ the barrels back was easy after the fight. Me and Knox dragged Sushi and Flynn like they was sacks of swamp mud, and Adolfo and Taur’Thalian swam on their own, carryin' their prize. Back on deck, the crew laughed, slapped our backs, drank their rum—but they didn’t get it.

Today wasn’t just about crabs. It was about strength. It was about who survives.

I know it now—the Wyrmwood is just another swamp. The crew? Another tribe. The rules might be different, but the truth stays the same:

The strong rise. The weak get eaten.

And me? I ain’t gettin’ eaten.

Day 8: Riaris Krine's Log: The Grappling Hook Disaster
Some days, you look at a crew and see the makings of greatness. Other days, you just see a lot of wet, flailing bodies and wonder how they’re still breathing. Yesterday? Yesterday was one of the latter.

I took the new recruits out in the rowboats for a simple boarding exercise—throw a grappling hook, climb up, don’t drown. Shouldn’t be that hard, right? Well, turns out, for some of ‘em, it’s damn near impossible.

Adolfo’s Grand Entrance
Adolfo, cocky bastard that he is, made it look easy. His hook flew up on the first try, catching the rail like it had been waiting for him all along. He climbed up slick as an eel, twisting and dodging the trash the crew above was lobbing down at us. Rotten fish guts, moldy bread, and something I’m pretty sure was an old boot—but he danced around it all with a grin. Made it to the deck without breaking a sweat and even had the nerve to bow like some fancy noble. If the lad weren’t so damn good, I’d be annoyed.

Knox’s Sinking Fortunes
Now Knox, he’s got strength to spare, but Besmara’s teeth, does he have a temper. His first throw missed completely, and when it splashed into the sea, I swear I saw steam coming out of his ears. The second throw found its mark, and he climbed up like a man with something to prove. But then—Batrachus. That frog-faced devil lashed his tongue around Knox’s leg and yanked him right off the rope. Splash! Down they both went, Knox cursing the whole way down while Batrachus just blinked like it was all a grand misunderstanding.

Knox made it up eventually, dripping wet and muttering murder under his breath, but he got there.

Taur’Thalian's Steady Climb
Taur’Thalian, now there’s a lad who knows how to keep his head. He threw his hook true and climbed up with a steady rhythm, humming some tune under his breath like it was all a pleasant little jaunt. I’ll give him credit—his voice keeps the crew from losing their minds, and his cool head’s worth gold in a storm. Made it to the deck without trouble, and I swear he barely broke a sweat. I’d wager he’ll do just fine in the long run.

Flynn and Sushi’s Watery Ordeal
And then there were Flynn and Sushi. Oh, where do I even start? Flynn’s got spirit, but the poor girl couldn’t catch a break. Every time she got a grip on the rope, she slid right off again, splashing down into the drink like a stone. I must’ve pulled her out at least half a dozen times before she even made it a foot off the boat.

And Sushi? If perseverance counted for something, he’d be captain already, but the lad just couldn’t get his hands to hold. Between the two of them, I was starting to think they’d be better off as deck-swabbers for life. I tried, I really did—hauled ‘em both out of the water more times than I can count, but at some point, even my patience has limits.

Enough's Enough
After watching them both fall into the sea for what felt like the hundredth time, I finally had to throw up my hands and call it. "Enough!" I yelled, dripping and exhausted myself. "Get back in the boats before ye drown in yer own failure!"

Flynn looked ready to argue, but one glare from me shut her up fast. Sushi just sighed and sat down in the boat like a man who'd made peace with his watery fate.

Lessons Learned
They’ll get better. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself. Adolfo’s got skill, Knox has drive, Taur’Thalian’s got heart, and Batrachus—well, he’s got that infernal tongue. As for Flynn and Sushi… they’ve got a long way to go. But I'll be damned if I don’t get ‘em there, one way or another.

For now, though? I need a drink.

Day 9: The Great Adolfo's Finest Hour
Ah, Day 9 on the Wyrnwood... another chapter in the grand epic of The Great Adolfo. There are those who stumble through life like blind beggars, and then there are men like me—swift of hand, sharp of mind, and, dare I say, blessed by fate itself. And today? Today was a masterwork of my talents, woven effortlessly into the tapestry of survival and success.

The Empress of the Waves. The wreck loomed before us, rotting and half-swallowed by the sea, its decks creaking like an old woman’s bones. A lesser man might have seen a ghost ship waiting to swallow him whole—but I saw opportunity. Treasure, mystery, and, most importantly, a chance to shine.

With a flick of my wrist and a grin that could charm the devil, I led the boarding. The others followed, of course—Knox, ever the grumbling mountain of muscle; Taur’Thalian, humming some bard’s nonsense; Flynn, a shadow of dark whispers; Batrachus, a hungry predator; and Sushi, our ever-dutiful cook, bless his earnest soul.

The deck was clear, swept of anything of value. Of course, the true booty lay within, beyond locked doors and secret stairs. We hide the things of greatest value, thus, the harder the search, the finer the prize. Below! I cried, and below we went.

The Spider Horde and the Alchemist’s Bounty
Deep in the tangled mess of the ship’s hold, we stumbled upon a nest of skittering horrors—spiders the size of my head and more of them than I cared to count. Flynn and Knox made short work of one of them with bursts of torchfire and flickers of dark energy, but credit where credit is due—Sushi had the foresight to gather vials of acid earlier in our trek, and oh, how they burned! The little man’s got a keen eye for useful things.

The Frog and the Fish
Deeper we delved, and it was then that Batrachus, ever the reckless one, found himself in the most precarious of predicaments. Rotten, dead crew lurched from the waters to scar him most brutally. Our slimy companion might well have been lost to the depths of the wreck, but ever-steady Sushi was ready with healing hands. His generosity is not flashy, but it is potent, and the frog lived to croak another day.

Treasure and Triumph
And then, my finest stroke of genius for the day—while the others prattled on about their finds and kills, I stumbled across a bag of rubies. Gleaming, rich, and far too valuable to be tossed in with the rest of the plunder. Did I share my good fortune? Oh, come now—a magician never reveals all his tricks. With a practiced sleight of hand, they found a new home under my hat, where only I would know their worth. After all, a little insurance never hurts when sailing with thieves and cutthroats.

A Flash of Steel and a Swift Escape
There was that half-orc in the totem-filled room—big, ugly, and, sadly, too slow. Batrachus and I put an end to her before she even had a chance to swing. One moment she was there, the next, well... she wasn't. Efficiency, my dear reader. Efficiency and style.

Taur’Thalian claimed a mighty blow against a monstrous spider, and I admit, it was impressive... for him. The bard can swing steel well enough when he's not too busy wooing the crew with his songs. And Flynn? She showed her strength in darker ways, commanding one of the undead we stumbled upon with eerie ease. A useful trick, if an unsettling one.

The Grand Escape
A leviathan! Something began to crack through the deepest hold of the ship. The Great Adolfo was, of course, curious, but he also needed to ensure the safety of his friends. As the wreck groaned and shuddered, it was clear it wouldn’t hold much longer. "Time to go, mates!" I called, ever the voice of reason amid the chaos, and we made our way topside, our pockets heavier and our skins (mostly) intact.

The Captain, in a flashy show (which, I must admit, I deeply admired) dove from the sky deep under the breaking ship, to confirm the presence of a Kraken!

Back on the Wyrmwood, the Captain was thrilled with our presentation of magical sails. Knox, the fool, spoke to him yet again. Fool me twice, and all that. Three lashes for the muscle-mountain. So excited was the Captain with the sails, that he neglected all the remaining booty. We left, our pockets quietly bulging. All in all, a fine day’s work.

Reflections at Sea
Now, as I sit on deck, sipping the last of my rum ration, I think about today’s successes. Sushi proved himself invaluable—gathering acid, saving Batrachus from an early grave, and all without much fuss. Knox, always dependable, but predictable. Taur’Thalian, charming but too soft-hearted. Flynn? I’ll keep an eye on her and her dark powers. And Batrachus... well, he’s a wild one, but wild things can be tamed or turned to purpose.

As for me? The Great Adolfo shines brighter than ever. Let’s see what tomorrow brings.

The Coins of Fate – As Seen by Phoebe Flynn
Flynn turned the small, glinting coin over in her pale fingers, the flickering light from the shattered ship’s sinking hull casting eerie shadows across its surface. Her face—her face—stared back at her from the worn metal, an unsettling reflection frozen in an expression of grim determination. The others held similar tokens, each bearing their own likeness, each minted with the uncanny precision of something far too deliberate, far too… knowing.

“What dark hand made these?” she muttered, voice like a whisper from beyond the veil, cold and even, like the creeping tide of the grave.

It wasn’t natural.

Magic coursed through the coins, subtle yet undeniable—tendrils of energy that slithered through the fabric of reality like whispers in the dark. Flynn could feel it under her skin, a pulse, a presence. Some of the others found strength in them, yet when she held hers, she felt… watched. Judged.

A boon? A blessing? Or a trap cleverly laid, baited with the illusion of power? Flynn had dabbled too long in the arts of death to trust gifts freely given, and the sea, much like the grave, was never generous without price. Things like these didn’t simply exist. They had purpose, intent. Someone, somewhere, wanted them to have these coins—wanted them to hold their own faces in their hands and wonder.

Flynn closed her fingers around the coin, pressing it to her palm, feeling the chill seep into her bones.

Could it be that their faces were stamped upon these pieces long before they stepped foot on the Empress of the Waves? Were they always meant to find them? A creeping thought, like ivy, wound its way into her mind:

What if the coins had found them instead?

She watched Batrachus eye his with an odd reverence, Knox tucking his away with pragmatic confidence, and Adolfo—Adolfo with his roguish grin, as if he'd pocketed destiny itself. Flynn knew better. The unknown always had teeth.

Their purpose remained an enigma. Were they a blessing of the dark seas? A token of some old, forgotten god’s amusement? Or worse... a claim, a mark that they now belonged to something far greater than themselves?

Flynn tucked the coin into the folds of her robes, close to her heart, and whispered a soft incantation—a ward, a silent prayer to Hanspur, the god of the drowning.

Perhaps it was a gift.

Perhaps it was a curse.

Either way, she would be ready when it came time to pay.

End of Session Summary: Master Scourge's Reflections: Weighing the Threat of the Press-Ganged Upstarts

Scourge leaned against the railing of the Wyrmwood, his eyes narrowed as he watched the press-ganged wretches scramble about their duties. He idly ran his fingers over the cat-o’-nine-tails hanging from his belt, lips curling in a sneer. They thought they were clever, these greenhorns. They thought they were winning the crew over. And that? That made them dangerous.

The Allies They’ve Amassed
Scourge spat over the side and scowled. First, there was Sandara Quinn. The wench was always a thorn in his side, a real stickler for that damned pirate’s code. Worse, she had a soft spot for that flashy bastard Adolfo, who thought he was some kind of swashbuckling hero. The way she stood up for the lot of them grated on Scourge’s nerves—he’d need to remind her who really runs this ship.

Then there was Rosie Cusswell, that pint-sized firecracker. She’d always been a tough one, but now she was chummy with Adolfo and had taken a liking to Taur’Thalian’s infernal singing. Rosie was the sort who’d swing a belaying pin first and ask questions never, and the fact that she sucker-punched Fipps and Aretta in the taint didn’t sit well with him. She could stir up real trouble if left unchecked.

And let’s not forget Bonnie Blades, the knife-throwing lass. Taur’Thalian had promised her some future access to blades, and the fool had bought it. Scourge hated that—the crew was supposed to fear him and Plugg, not trust some bard with a silver tongue.

Barefoot Samms Toppin and Ratline Rattsberger, they’d been won over too. Taur’Thalian and Elara had them eating out of their hands. Samms was all talk about fishing and wouldn’t last long under pressure, but Ratline? He was a competent sailor. And competent sailors could be dangerous in the wrong hands.

And then, of course, there was Cut-Throat Grok, the quartermaster. She used to be Scourge’s problem, always grumbling about the job. Now? Taur’Thalian’s tales had warmed her up, and she’d gone soft. Grok liked them too much, and it meant they could get their hands on things they had no business having.

And then, the worst of it—Owlbear Harshorn. That big, simple brute had been his to torment, but Batrachus? The slimy little frog-man had shown him kindness in that boxing match, and now Owlbear wagged his tongue at their heels like a dog waiting for scraps.

The Uncertains – Still Up for Grabs
Scourge’s grip tightened on the rail as he considered the ones still sitting on the fence. Jack Scrimshaw was a skittish thing—first to see the dire rats, and Sushi had earned a few points with him by getting him a knife, but Elara’s charm had pushed him away. He could go either way. Then there was Tilly Brackett, warming up to Adolfo and his endless supply of rum. Artful Roger, too, had started to respect Adolfo after their little duel. That was dangerous. Respect on a ship like this could spread like rot.

Breaker Bones, now that one was trouble in the making. Knox and Taur’Thalian had been wearing him down, bit by bit. The man was too stubborn to bend easily, but Adolfo covering for him and Taur’Thalian’s constant prattle had started shifting things. Scourge had punished him plenty, and the fool still had the gall to throw grog in his face.

And of course, there were the officers. Caulky Tarroon, Peppery Longfarthing, Riaris Krine, and Habbly Quarme. Not that they cared much for the daily power plays below deck, but their neutrality meant they weren’t as useful to Scourge as he’d like.

The Enemies – The Rightful Order of Things
A smug grin tugged at Scourge’s lips when he thought of the ones firmly under his thumb. Fipps Chumlett, Slippery Syl, Aretta Bansion, Jaundiced Jape, and Narwhal Tate—a fine group of muscle, loyal to the lash and the promise of favor from Plugg. Sure, Fipps had been humiliated when Adolfo and Knox stole his gear—and his pants—but he wasn’t about to forgive and forget. That anger would be useful when the time came.

Crimson Cog, now there was a nasty piece of work. Always fighting, always stirring trouble. The man had been put off by Phoebe’s strange gods and had a temper to match his loyalty to Scourge and Plugg. A useful blunt instrument, if nothing else.

Even Maheen, one of the riggers, had seen sense and taken Scourge’s side after Taur’Thalian and Knox tried to sweet-talk him.

The Plan Moving Forward
Scourge scratched his chin, thinking it over. The press-ganged whelps were getting too comfortable, winning over too many hearts and minds. They had friends, they had resources, and worse—they had ideas. Ideas that a ship could run on something other than fear. That wouldn’t do. No, it wouldn’t do at all.

Knox was a problem—strong, cunning, and too disciplined for a man his size. If left unchecked, he could rally the others and run this ship better than Plugg ever could. Taur’Thalian, with his damned songs and charisma, was another thorn in his side. Men liked him too much, and that made him dangerous. And Adolfo? Well, Adolfo had charm, skill, and just enough arrogance to think he could take Scourge's place someday.

He’d have to break them. Bit by bit. Maybe push them too hard, wear them down with punishments, set them against each other. And if an accident happened in the rigging, well... the seas were unforgiving.

Scourge smirked and turned away from the deck, cracking his knuckles. "They think they're winning," he muttered under his breath, "but the ship always belongs to the strong. And I ain't done yet."