7th day of Arodus, 4710
The Sargavan merchant vessel, Jenivere, has been sailing for seventy-one days of it's one-hundred and four day journey. She has begun her final stretch across Desperation Bay. Some of the crew have begun to comment that the course is a bit unusual. That the stars are not lined up the way they would normally be for this final stage. Brief arguments have been heard between the captain and first mate regarding course corrections.
Today the captain has called a ships dinner. Many of the sailors expect the issue to be resolved one way or another tonight. One of the cabin boys has given the invitation to each of the passengers and some of the note-worthy crew. Vincenzo is found at the fore of the ship watching the waves and discussing what might be found within the Expanse with Tragershen. Rhys has been lurking near the aft barely muttering a replay to the messenger. Blackleaf has even been given an invitation, though it seems to have come more from the First Mate than the Captain himself.
While Rambar is preparing the food for the night with the assistance of Nichelle he makes a trip to the hold for supplies. On his return he silently continues to prepare the food. At one point pouring in copious amounts of a deep amber syrup. When questioned about this addition by Nichelle he simply replies, "It's a spice, lil' miss. I know you like them, thought I would try some of my own."
Blackleaf was a bit intrigued by the Invitation, he got on well enough with most of the crew even if he and the captain clashed a few times. The man was far to strict on some things the elf thought, and he had spent a few nights in the brig over such clashes.
Blackleaf was useful enough aboard that he was still own the ship, but he expected not to be asked back after making port, which was fine by him he had had enough of this life. He liked to run the lines of the ship, enjoyed the spray of the sea and wind as he climbed the mast but this discipline was to much for the elf.
He was ready for honest ground beneath him, for the surge of a life of death struggle. Hells he was ready for port, he had a powerful thirst and a need for some soft company. Which ship life was sorely lacking. Oh there where a few women on the ship none seem inclined for companionship. Humans He thought to himself Such restrained creatures Some times he things he'll never understand civilized folks, always holding back when they should be letting go. and with such small lifetimes too, so odd to him.
With that he shrugs and went back to running lines, the dinner would wait, he had work to do for now.
Rhys Forgarson, cloaked, hooded and masked as always, nods curtly, but politely to the messenger as he approaches. They exchange a few quick words.
"Please inform the good Captain that his offer is very much appreciated. I hope he will not think me rude, however, if I take my meal in my quarters again, unless something urgent comes up and he requires my presence. Thank you."
Nodding again the messenger, Rhys paces across the deck, slipping with inhuman grace around the sailors, passengers and deckhands alike, meandering his way towards his normal spot at the starboard bow. He glances ahead and astern, then seats himself on a crate that has been lashed to a bunch of other crates. From the small of his back he produces a small, worn violin case with brass hinges, deftly clicking it open with long, slender red fingers.
Rhys lifts the somewhat shabby violin from its rest and nestles the rest under his masked chin. Closing his yellow eyes, he begins to play a somewhat lonely-sounding sea chanty.
While it is clear the teenage Guide is an amateur at best, he does seem to possess a natural skill with his chosen instrument, and his song, quiet and forlorn, evokes simultaneous feelings of loss, solitude and renewed hope. He keeps his eyes closed as he plays, his fingertips dancing across the strings with eerie alacrity.
Rhys continues playing the song, never moving from that solemn sitting position at the edge of the crate until the song had reached the last, slow chord, drawing bow across string until the final notes were drifting across the water and vanishing into the midday sun. He remains still for a few moments before finally lowering the instrument, his shoulders rising and falling in a silent sigh as he begins stowing the instrument back in its well-traveled case.
As his hands do their work, his eyes rise and scan the deck once more, alighting on Nichelle. He cants his head slightly to the side, and nods politely.
"Did you like it?" His voice, though muffled by the mask, is still clearly audible, and has a peculiar lilt that makes his vowels sound wide. "It's called 'Her Bright Smile'. Sailor's song. There are lyrics, but I couldn't carry a tune in a brass bucket."
Vincenzo accepts the invitation with his usual smile and courteous thank-you, glad that he would have another opportunity to speak among the people assembled on the ship.
As the day wanes on he finds himself on the deck of the Jenivere, a smile on his face as he gestures out into the open sea, his expression on his weathered face giving away the excitement in his age old imagination.
"They say, within the expanse, where no man has walked for centuries, lie abominations from ancient time who are thrice as large as a man and walk upright through the jungle, feared and terrifying creatures hunted by those with the opportunity and means, and hunting those without the skill necessary to survive... I heard that a Pathfinder not too long ago brought back one of their skeletons from his expedition, a huge and terrible beast with three horns atop its boned crest. It charged and hewed through the flank of his group without even a flinch and it took near twenty arrows to bring the beast to its knees! And think of it; these massive creatures hunt and feast in great herds in the open plains of the expanse, hunted by even more gargantuan creatures who hide within the jungle... What an absolutely wretched and fascinating land! I cannot wait until we make landfall."
After Rhys' performance a trim, athletic woman with short dark hair, tanned skin, and fierce blue eyes stumbles from her forward cabin. She is dressed in tightly fitted leather armor and with dark clothing and a tilted tricorn hat barely on her head. Her face is flushed and she appears to have started drinking early today. "Na..normally, I would punch a bloke for playin' a tune above my cabi..urp...while I write. That wash pretty though."
The drunken half-elf woman before you is Aerys Mavato. She came aboard a couple weeks before the stop at Bloodcove.
Rhys glances over at the woman coming his way, clearly three sheets to the wind despite it only being mid-afternoon. His yellow eyes narrow warily, clearly a little unused to people simply walking up to him and making casual conversation. However, his tone is as polite as ever.
"Thank you for the compliment, Lady...Mavato, was it? In the future, I'll make sure not to cause any further interruptions."
Saying this, he slings his violin case back around to the small of his back, turning his eyes back out to the water.
Then we are agreed, Vincenzo. Landfall cannot come soon enough! I've been reading about the place since your parents were children, and now it is mere days away. Tragershen closes his eyes, savoring the feel of the spray on his face. It is a dangerous place to be sure, but I am optimistic that proper preparation and proper research will make it feasible. In my research I've come across some interesting sounding sites, and I hope to be able to explore them quite soon!
"Mavato...yesh..." She quickly moves to the railing and begins to look ill.
A pretty young lady with tousled red hair and mischievous green eyes looks up from the main deck. "She should get some fresh air! Being on the sea is wonderful. I don't know why ever she locked herself up this whole time."
Sasha grabs a rope and swings on it across the deck, her boyish clothing fluttering in the wind. "Did you all get invitations as well? This is the first time Captain Kovack has had anyone but Ieana join him for dinner!"
Blackleaf over hearing the other talk snorted "Dinner, aye the wrench joined him for dinner all right" He says in accented common and bellows a laugh like a drunken dwarf.
Noticing the other passengers, Vincenzo unabashedly eavesdrops, mentally noting the syrup. From what he understood of the girl, she was a premiere alchemist herself, and if she had questions about what it was then it was truly foreign indeed.
At the right moment, he inserts himself in the conversation. "I, myself, received an invitation as well. I had assumed our fair captain was looking for intelligent conversation, but it seems he may just want to have a nice dinner to, perhaps, soften the blow of a good-riddance? Either way, I'm not one to turn down a meal."
As he speaks, he crosses the bow and stands near Aerys, attempting to help her cope with what looks like staggering drunkenness coupled with an unfortunate lack of sea legs.
Glancing up at the crowd, Rhys lets his eyes drift from one face to the next, casually listening in on their easy conversation with one another and--truth be told--feeling a little left out. He frowns a little behind his mask.
"Hmm. It seems odd indeed that the captain of a cargo ship like the Jenvire would have dinner with his passengers. Perhaps he has something about the route ahead he'd like to discuss with us."
He strokes his chin idly, lowering his voice a bit.
"Perhaps I'd better come along after all..."
Blackleaf, done with the lines plops himself down on the railing, scowling at any spoilers who seem about to comment on him sitting down. He shrugs his shoulders "Hells if I know why I got invited, I doubt that uptight bastard invited me. I am no good to that one unless I am brawling, fighting off boarders or hauling cargo. And you! he say nodding toward Sasha "Got any more rum? , I got a powerful thirst and wouldn't mind the company." He stretches and grins "Last visited to the ships rum got me four days in the brig, but eh I needed the rest anyhow. By Desna's t$#@ this trip has got boring, maybe this little dinner will be lively and get that old bastards goat " he says with a bellowing laugh
"Ooh, you're feisty, but I'm afraid it looks like Aerys has drank all of her's," she brushes her hair back and winks, "This trip might be boring, but it's better than some things. Besides I hear that Eleder is one of the more exciting locales. We'll be there in a month so you better be a good sailor for the Captain or he's likely to keel-hull you.'
She looks over Blackleaf's markings, rather impressed. "You know, I've got a tattoo of my own," Sasha says while turning around and lowering the back of her shirt to reveal a pair of locked mantis claws.
With a grim look Blackleaf shacks his head "Let the bastard try and Pharasma will reap a red harvest indeed before I stand at her throne. " The he gets close to inspect that marking, running his long fingers across her back, ears closed and head slightly turns as if hearing something no one else could.
"The Mantis, a powerful totem, warrior, hunter and silent killer. In my homeland , deep within the forest lays the hunter grounds of great Mantis, avatars of death given flesh." He nods his head again "A powerful totem indeed" Seems to look at the girl in some kind of new light and understanding.
"And as for feisty, life is for the bold and those who grab hold and throw it to the ground. In life there are panthers and there are cattle. I am no mans livestock." He says giving her an appraising eye "And if I like what I see, I say so. You Humans are to restrained, the best things in life are testing yourself in battle, succeeding by the sweet of your brow, the strength of your arm and the sharpness of your blade. Powerful drink and soft companionship make life enjoyable, why should I deny myself either?"
One slender black eyebrow rises as she sees the woman show off her tattoo, and then lowers. His eyes narrow, and his thoughts churn a mile a minute.
Hmm...a red tattoo of mantis claws. Could she be a Red Mantis assassin? But that's silly. What kind of assassin would willingly brand themselves with the symbol of their order? That's begging for recrimination. Either coincidence, a wannabe, or she's just terrible at her job.
He slips off the crate--mostly to put some distance between himself and the woman who is being NOISILY sick over the rail--and drifts surreptitiously closer to the conversations, leaning against whatever is on hand.
"Yeah...powerful...right. Most dinners in a captain's quarters have plenty of brandy and wine. Maybe you'll find something to satisfy you there," the red-head grabs the still ill looking half-elf and starts to drag her down the stairs, "Come on Aerys, let's get you some biscuits and back to your room."
As she leaves a cat-call whistle comes from a nearby crate. A spry, energetic gnome with blond hair and a neat goatee steps from behind it. He is dressed in a pristine lavender silk nobleman's outfit with gold trim and a foppish hat. "Not many girls will get themselves drunk for you. I hope she comes to the dinner tonight. That'll be entertainment enough for me! What do you say boys?"
Blackleaf shrugs "I think she would be far more entertaining on her back, the girl needs a bit more elf in 'er and I would be glad to help with that. But if her being drunk upsets the captain, yes that will be entertaining enough for me." He says with a savage grin
Vincenzo listens in on the conversations as they ebb and flow with an amused look on his face, taking in what everyone says and just enjoying listening for a few moments. The crude and crass demeanor of the current company interested him, yet, as the time went on, it began to wear. The standoffish nature of the elf and the tattooed girl and the vomiting made him feel like he was back mopping the floors in a Korvosan tavern again, just waiting for a fight to erupt. Turning to Tragershen, he nods and pats him on the shoulder, finally answering what he'd said minutes ago. "Yes, my friend... land fall cannot come soon enough."
When the gnome emerges, Vincenzo answers. "Ah, and with the captain serving dinner and she herself serving her own drinks, you have your work cut out for you. Do watch yourself, though; she was threatening blows earlier, so she may be prone to violence."
Rhys turns to glance back at Nichelle, noting that the flexible gymnast is the same girl who was watching him fiddle before. He tilts his head curiously and, perhaps motivated by all the affable conversation on deck and his own stoic silence over the last several days of the trip, speaks again.
"You have natural grace, miss. And you make it look almost casual. Are you a performer of some kind?"
7th day of Arodus, 4710
Dinnertime
As the night begins to fall and the seventh bell chimes the cabin boy runs around again inviting people directly to the captain's quarters. The bulkheads have been moved back so there is enough room at the table for everyone invited. While everyone takes their place one chair remains empty. The Varisian-scholar must still be secluded in her cabin.
Aerys immediatly reaches for the bottle of wine. Sasha slaps at her hand and recieves a stern glare. The gnome comments on how he loves a good cat-fight. To his side sits a rugged Tian man who appears much older than he is, with graying hair worn in a ponytail and a perpetual scruffy beard. His clothing and armor are well kept and clean, but obviously of low quality. He remains silent and keeps his arms crossed while waiting for the meal.
Captain Kovack clears his throat for an announcement, "Tonight is a farewell dinner. We are soon to reach our destination of Eleder, the captial of Sargave. As gateway to the Mwangi Expanse I'm sure it will be the gateway for many new adventures. The ships cook tells me he has prepared a special lucky soup as our first course. At the bottom of each bowl is a meatball. One of them contains a piece o' eight, whoever gets it will recieve great fortune in the days to come." He sits down and pours himself some wine as well.
Blackleaf arches an eyebrow at the Gnome and smiles as Sarsha and winks at Aerys as he grabs the Wine "Fortune in a meal eh" Blackleaf says starring into the bowl "Eh I have eaten queerer things." he says as he digs into the bowl
Blackleaf is sure to smile at the captain as often as he can as he loudly eats his meal and guzzles down the mans wine.
A toast, then. May our ventures at our destination be as safe and pleasant as our journey there has been, under the guidance of our good captain and his able crew! He raises his glass of wine to the gathering.
"Hear, hear," Vincenzo chimes in, raising his wine glass as well. "May our luck hold us up when our skill fails to shine through."
Rhys slides himself into his chair, lifting both hands and sliding his hood back. His long, black hair is tied into a loose ponytail, which falls down his back, and once his hood is pulled away it reveals his two hard, crimson horns, the bottoms of which are lightly ridged. His eyes flicker down in what may be self-conscious embarrassment.
One hand drops to his wine goblet, while the other slips a finger into his mask, pulling it down around his neck, revealing a slender jaw marred by a scar on one cheek, and two pointed fangs for canines. His eyes flash up to Captain Kovacks briefly, and he nods, lifting his goblet.
"Y-yes, Captain. Thank you for seeing us on our way in comfort and courtesy."
He lifts his wine to his lips and takes a single, demure sip, keeping his eyes downcast, looking a little skittish about being unmasked.
Rhys sips his soup idly, his yellow eyes staying downcast for the most part, but occasionally darting up to wander over the other guests. He catches Nichelle glancing at him, and the brick-red around his cheeks darkens to a self-conscious apple-red. He hides his meekness over his racial traits by turning to look at each guest in turn, remaining silent.
The flexible girl is some manner of acrobat. A troupe performer, I think, or some kind of gymnast. She's curious about everyone. I don't think she's seen much of the world around her. The tattooed elf is a brawler. Looks like he's used to taking what he wants by strength of arm and brashness of character. A man of blacks and whites, maybe, and not many shades of gray. The other elf doesn't want to talk about himself, but he's excited to be arriving in Mwangi. A scholastic interest, perhaps. The Human man seems to have been weaned on tall tales of the place. Some of the things he speaks of are accurate, and some of them are the tales of childhood fantasy and nightmare. I get the feeling I'm the only one of the passengers that's actually been to the Expanse before.
After taking a few more slow sips of his soup, Rhys sets his spoon down and clears his throat softly.
"I've spent the last six years working as a trail guide in the jungles of Mwangi. Once we've debarked in Sargave, I'd be happy to hire my services out to any who would need it."
Shortly after Nichelle bites down on a piece of metal everything starts to grow blurry. Rhys' words come to her ears in a garble, like he's speaking under water. The small girl collapses on the table.
Following her the other two ladies, Aeyrs and Sasha, tumble to the floor. Gelik seems to have slid under the table when everybody was ignoring him. The men in the room succumb to whatever is going on as well. Blackleaf simply thunking his head directly on the table. Rhys having tasted the least food sees Ieana enter the room and whisper into the ear of the Captain. The two leave as darkness envelopes the tiefling.
Rhys watches his companions fall into unconsciousness one by one, then pushes himself to his feet with enough force to send his chair clattering to the floor, turning and pointing his finger accusingly at Ieana, so casually whispering to the Captain.
"Wh-...you...did...?"
It's no use. His head is full of lead and his mouth is full of cotton. He falls forward onto his knees, then onto his face.
...
An unknown amount of time later, his eyes snap open, yellow, ferocious catlike slits of anger and suspicion. He ignored his body's immediate compulsion to sit right up, and instead gently inclines his head, gritting his teeth and trying to lift his hand to see what is paining him. He also tries to see if there are any of his fellow travelers in the immediate vicinity, his keen eyes switching immediately to darkvision if need be.
DM
EDIT: Yes, he was that much into the Mwangi Expanse that he took a monkey familiar despite the fact that others may have been more advantageous.
The thing that looks like a scorpion mixed with a 30lb lobster chitters and bites down on the middle finger or your right hand again. The pain is blinding and all you feel is an intense burning. Instinctively you shake your arm and jerk away.
Coming to your knees nearly causes Rhys to collapse again but his vision clears enough to discern he's on a beach. The sun is either just setting or just rising. Several other forms lay in the sand around him along with two more of the creatures. A half-hazard pile of gear is 15-feet away. The burning in the tieflings hand increases finally drawing his attention. Rhys' middle finger is still in the monstrosities mouth...
Rhys jerks his hand back and rolls to his feet, his heavy tail swinging free and lashing back and forth in anger. His eyes dart this way and that, noting that he is the only person conscious on the beach, and also noting the pile of gear.
Keep cool, Rhys. You can't let those people end up as food for these...these...lobstrosities. Get away from this thing before it can make mincemeat of you.
Turning, ignoring the pain in his finger and the churning nausea in his guts, Rhys launches himself away from the red monster in the sand and rolls up the beach towards the gear pile, landing on one knee and immediately raking through it, trying to find his crossbow. He begins shouting, for two purposes--one, to distract the lobstrosities from their meals and get their attention on him, and two, to try and wake his companions.
"Hey! You want to get fat eating something that doesn't fight back? C'mon, gentlemen! Why not work for your dinner? It'll taste all the sweeter! C'mon, you carapace-clad bastards, I'm right here!"
His tail stops thrashing, instead falling to a cool, casual twitch.
A sleek reddish-brown creatures lurks nearby. It's crustacean-like tails end in a long stinger. The creature is approaching with a pair of large claws clackign eagerly. Another nearby is attacking Rhys.
(22) Rhys jerks his hand back and rolls to his feet, his heavy tail swinging free and lashing back and forth in anger. His eyes dart this way and that, noting that he is the only person conscious on the beach, and also noting the pile of gear.
Turning, ignoring the pain in his finger and the churning nausea in his guts, Rhys launches himself away from the red monster in the sand and rolls up the beach towards the gear pile. The sea scorpion is too slow to react to the rangers quick movements and barely turns towards him.
Rhys lands on one knee and immediately raking through it, trying to find his crossbow. He begins shouting, for two purposes--one, to distract the lobstrosities from their meals and get their attention on him, and two, to try and wake his companions. ""Hey! You want to get fat eating something that doesn't fight back? C'mon, gentlemen! Why not work for your dinner? It'll taste all the sweeter! C'mon, you carapace-clad bastards, I'm right here!"
(18) Dropping the finger in the sand the sea scorpion pursues its fleeing meal claws snipping eagerly.
Rhys manages to easily dodge the snip.
The sea scorpion near Blackleaf experimentally snips at him with a claw.
It barely comes close to the elf.
A third eurypterid chitters near Aerys, it pulls at her armor with a claw but has yet to wake her.
Rhys briskly dodges by the attacks, gritting his teeth, his tail twitching in consternation. He turns and notices the sea scorpion beginning to peel the unconscious woman's armor off, and lets out a blistering curse in Infernal. Taking a sweeping step to one side of the junk pile to put more distance between himself and the lobstrosity, Rhys holds his newly-claimed crossbow in one hand and combs through the equipment in search of his bolt quiver before he could get an unwanted hair cut.
He lets out a blistering, filthy curse in Infernal: "Imach!"
Seeing the pile nearby and the thing striking at him Blackleaf tries to fight down the sick in his stomach and standing up hoping his armor will stop the attack that he knows will come. He tries to roll away from the thing and get a bit closer to the pile and possible weapons with in.
Acrobatics
A sleek reddish-brown creatures lurks several feet away. It's crustacean-like tail ends in a long stinger. The creature is pulling at Aerys' armor with a claw.
[ooc]Your monkey is still asleep in the sand near you.
(22) Rhys turns and notices the sea scorpion beginning to peel the unconscious woman's armor off, and lets out a blistering curse in Infernal. Taking a sweeping step to one side of the junk pile to put more distance between himself and the lobstrosity, Rhys holds his newly-claimed crossbow in one hand and combs through the equipment in search of his bolt quiver before he could get an unwanted hair cut.
He lets out a blistering, filthy curse in Infernal, "Imach!"
(18) Rhys' small friend chatters in annoyance and follows him sweeping claws and tail towards the tiefling.
Rather than chase Blackleaf the second sea scorpion clambers onto Tragershen and bites him on the neck. [ooc](Tragershen HP 5, sickened and prone)
Undisturbed by the commotion the third one continues to try and get at Aerys' soft elf flesh beneath her armor.
(18)
(18)
(12) Seeing the pile nearby and the thing striking at him Blackleaf tries to fight down the sick in his stomach and standing up hoping his armor will stop the attack that he knows will come. He tries to roll away from the thing and get a bit closer to the pile and possible weapons with in. The nearby sea scorpion ignores him while biting the wizard.
Rhys continues to bob and weave as he rakes through the gear, finally finding the familiar leather quiver of his bolt case. He pulls it out of the pile, glancing up as Blackleaf approaches the pile.
"Good to see I'm not the only one who made it ashore." he nods as he whirls and takes a swift step back. "We have to protect the others!"
Facing the scorpion, he takes aim with his crossbow and, focusing all of his considerable prowess and skill that comes with years as being a hunter and guide, lets fly with a single heavy, barbed bolt.
+1 (BAB), +4 (DEX), +1 (Point-Blank Shot), +2 (Ranger's Focus), -2 (Sickened)
+1 (Point Blank Shot), +2 (Ranger's Focus), -2 (Sickened)
Dazed and confused, he lolls on the ground for a moment, getting his bearings and coming to grips with the sudden shock of waking up on the brightest and noisiest beach in the entire world. Vincenzo, head swimming, heart pounding, rolls onto his belly. No sword, no shield, no star knife. He doesn't have time to consider not making a reckless move; Kicking up sand, he stands up as he moves towards the creature picking at Aerys.
Vincenzo spits a curse in Varisian at the creature, "You ugly son of a b#!##!" and stomps on it.
+0 BAB, +1 Strength
DM
For some reason this thread isn't "dotting" for me. Trying this post to get it going...
Immediately beside your head is the tail of a large ochre crustacean. It appears to be a cross between a lobster and a scorpion.
Round 3, sea scorpions
(22) Rhys continues to bob and weave as he rakes through the gear, finally finding the familiar leather quiver of his bolt case. He pulls it out and slings it over his shoulder glancing up as Blackleaf approaches the pile. "Good to see I'm not the only one who made it ashore," he nods as he whirls and takes a swift step back, "We have to protect the others!"
Facing the scorpion, he takes aim with his crossbow and, focusing all of his considerable prowess and skill that comes with years as being a hunter and guide, lets fly with a single heavy, barbed bolt. The shot makes a sickening crunch and pierces the creature. It shudders and dies.
(18) Noticing that it's prey has awaken the creature near Tragershen attacks in earnest.
Tragershen twists and dodges the claws and stinger as they scrape and stab at the sand.
Still ignoring the others the sea scorpion on Aerys as scooted closer and begun to chew through the leather of her armor.
(18) Tragershen rolls away from the attacking creature and comes to his feat. No weapons lay nearby except in the pile by Rhys and Blackleaf.
(18) Dazed and confused, Vincenzo lolls on the ground for a moment, getting his bearings and coming to grips with the sudden shock of waking up on the brightest and noisiest beach in the entire world. With his head swimming and heart pounding, he rolls onto his belly. No sword, no shield, no star knife. He doesn't have time to consider not making a reckless move; Kicking up sand, he stands up as he moves towards the creature picking at Aerys.
Vincenzo spits a curse in Varisian at the creature, "You ugly son of a b%!~*!" and stomps on it. A large portion of it's shell crunches under his foot and the scorpion turns towards him weakly stabbing with it's stinger.
(15)
(12) Blackleaf digs though the pile looking for a weapon while keeping an eye out for the creatures. He quickly finds the handle of his familiar great axe.
Vincenzo bobs and weaves, wary of the creature's stinger and arm-sized claws. Quickly, like he'd learned in the Taldor boxing rings, he throws all of his weight out, turning to present a smaller target, and again tries to crush the creature's mandible with his waterlogged boot.
+0 BAB, +1 strength, -2 sickened
As he moves back, he stumbles, his body weak and disoriented. He notices the others, and calls out to them.
"What happened?!" Vincenzo shouts at the Rhys and Blackleaf, obviously distressed. "Where are we?! Why are we on a beach, feeding crabs?!"
Round 4:
Standard Action: All Out Defense.
Move Action: Scoop up Wagnim from the sand.
EDIT: Current AC is 17 (+3 dex, +4 all out defense). He hasn't had time obviously for Mage Armor.
Blackleaf lifts his ax into his hands, feeling the welcoming wood and the feathers and beads as the brush his forearm. with a roar he moves to the closest creature and brings his axe to bare . "To Pharasma with you!" he roars.
Attack
Damage:
Weak. Slow reflexes. Inaccurate. Lightly armored. Can't take much punishment. Scavengers, probably. But determined as a drunken pirate on a pretty maid. Let's fix that.
With practiced grace, Rhys' hand dips to his side and slides another green-and-gray banded crossbow bolt out of the quiver and nocks it into his weapon. He swings it around towards the lobstrosity couched between Vincenzo, Nichelle and Aerys, smoothly pulling the trigger.
+1 (BAB), +4 (DEX), +1 (Point-Blank Shot), -2 (Sickened)
+1 (Point-Blank Shot), -2 (Sickened)
Once the bolt is away, he immediately draws another bolt, holding it between his first and second fingers and readying it for loading. He holds it high, resting the barbed tip lightly against the scar on his cheek.
"Oy!! Why don't you stop playing with somebody who doesn't have a weapon, ey? Maybe you'd prefer somebody more your color?"