Axe's Skull and Shackles

[aReallyGreatAxe]

You linger on the edge of consciousness for what seems like hours, aware only of a persistent ache in the front of your skull and the fact that the room keeps bobbing and swaying as if you’re still drunk. The sickly sweet taste of cheap wine and oily nutmeg lingers in your mouth, which also feels like you’ve been eating cotton. A rhythmic creaking noise only exacerbates the pounding in your head.

You remember last night- the heady joys of excess, the crowded bar packed with every type of person under the sun. You remember the food, thick meaty strips of beef lathered in a dark sauce, spiced rum that danced on your tongue like fireworks.

You remember staggering back to your room, altogether too drunk for the amount of alcohol you consumed. You remember pawing at the doorknob, finally convincing it to let you in to the comfort of a warm bed to sleep off…. Whatever you’re sleeping off. You remember….. No, that’s all you remember. The surface you’re laying on now, however, is distinctly not a comfortable inn bed. It’s hard and cold, and your joints are sore.



This aftertaste of oily nutmeg- isn’t that a clear sign of poisoning by Oil of Taggit, a powerful sedative? Of course, the rich food or spiced rum could have easily hid the flavor- is this what happened?



Then the present returns in the form of the hammering of rapid footsteps, that sound like someone driving a pick straight into the recesses of your brain.

There’s a harsh laugh

And then everything

Goes

Cold

Numbingly cold and wet and thoroughly startling, your eyes flash open with an involuntary gasp that lets a foul, salty taste in to mingle with the hangover coating your tongue. Consciousness is fully in your grasp now, although perhaps you wish it wasn’t- you’re met with ringing laughs from a group of rough looking figures holding buckets.

Stepping in front of them is a sneering man with a braided beard. His body is tall and thin, and even his long coat and heavy boots fail to give any impression of strength or bulk. An expression that might be mistaken for pain but which is clearly an attempt at a smile bruises his face, revealing a motley lot of gold and rotten teeth.


You’ve seen this man before. In fact, you saw him near your table last night- he bumped into you by accident. Or by “accident”, as the case may be.


““Still abed with the sun over the yardarm?” he growls, his voice scratchy like he’s spent the past few years gargling nails. “On your feet, ye filthy swabs! Get up on deck and report for duty before Cap’n Harrigan flays your flesh into sausage skins and has Fishguts fry ye up for breakfast!”

The crowd behind him reach as one for their weapons, daring you to try anything fancy. Among them, you notice, is a vast man with a shiny bald head, a reedy half orc, a sour-faced harlot with massive ears, and a blonde woman who looks ready to gut you with her smile alone.



Welcome to a world that lingers on the edge of destruction, where the natural forces are so unhinged that permanent storms thrash the waves.

Welcome to a country that’s so disjointed it’s never earned a name, and pirates haunt its waters like ghosts hungry for gold.

Welcome to a ship infested with the scum of the sea that wriggle through its belly and rigging like maggots.

Welcome to Skull and Shackles.

[SirCatBeard]

Well, that did not go as planned. There weren't even any good rumors at that filthy tavern and now this. Should have guessed such a place wouldn't bother with nutmeg in the drinks.

Elim spits the remaining water onto the deck and smiles a feline grin at the speaker, slipping into their mannerisms. " 'Scuse me, sir, hard to see the sun from here. But I'm afraid ye be makin' a mistake 'ere, this be not me ship so unless ye want some halibut or net-mending, which I would be happy to assist with, I canno' say what duties I have here, and me own captain will be wantin' me back 'fore too long so what say ye drop me off back at town and I get you a great deal on some Mackerel."

[aReallyGreatAxe]

The speaker’s lip curls, clearly enjoying his role. “The Wormwood don’t make no mistakes, lad. Yer ours now, fair and square.” He shakes his head, the many small braids in his beard swaying with the motion. “And we be hunting fish a mite more dangerous than a Mackerel- a whole ship full of ‘em, in fact. Now, hop to, or you’ll get the first taste of me lash.” He pulls the whip from his belt and holds it expectantly. The whip seems to fit comfortably into his hand, a sign of either much practice or much use, and from the sweat and bloodstains on the well-worn handle, you presume it to be the latter.

[Table Flipper]

"Bloody..."

Sarra's voice trails off as she stands up, head still pounding from the night before.

"Coulda just asked, y'know. Save us both some trouble." She shakes her head. "Which way's topside?"

[Chimaera]

In just what kind of trouble did you yourself in, Shu?

The pain, the hangover and the clear sign of poisoning, made the slender sailor stand up.l with difficulty. He tried his best to not show signs of pain though.

"You're certainly not a ladies' man. Are you?", Godfrey asks but shivers after speaking it, fearing he earned a whip, "Can we know what are these sailor fishes? Are they even fishes? Or sailors?".

He stops saying and blabber some nonsense, clearly a bit confused. "And can I get some water? Feel there was a party in my mouth".

[CoffeeIncluded]

A young man with white hair, pale lavender eyes, and skin so pale as to be translucent groans as he staggers to his feet. He quickly runs through his mental checklist: ten fingers, ten toes...where’s his wallet? Why is he on a hard surface? Who’s yelling at him?


Knowledge nature: <roll>D20+1</roll>
Intelligence: <roll>d20+1</roll>

[CoffeeIncluded]

Sorry, it’s been a while

Knowledge nature: [roll0]
Intelligence: [roll1]



Oily nutmeg...Rage flashes through Dimitri and, though he knows it’s a mistake he springs to his feet. Or rather, he would if, ”You bastard, did you just drug me?! What kind of twisted joke is this?!”

[aReallyGreatAxe]

The man's false smile fades as Godfrey asks his questions. He unloops the whip slowly, deliberately. "You ask too many questions, lad. Best learn-" but before he can finish his thought, the white haired man leaps to his feet and throws an accusation.

The whip lashes out, quicker than the sound can catch up to it. It cracks across Dmitri's side, tearing both his clothes and the skin beneath.


Readied action to whip the first to step out of line.
Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1] Nonlethal


"There'll be no more o' that. Do as yer told." His scratchy voice has gone cold and dangerous as a glacier. "Up on deck," he orders flatly, gesturing behind him at a set of stairs against which a hulking man sleeps peacefully. Or, it would be peaceful, if he weren't bound by his hands to the mast.

The others behind draw their weapons, cutlasses glinting in the faint light from above.


Do you want to roll initiative?

[Chimaera]

"Got it: no questions, no whip. Coming up", Godfrey shows the man his hands and move slowly towards the ladder. He almost felt sorry for the white haired one, but was thankful it wasnt on his own skin.

"See? Doing as told", he looks the man in the face (studying briefly his facial features and posture) and leaves the whip immediate area. He walks slow enough not to provoke the guards but not so fast, so that he can see the scene unfold. Not that he cared about the guy that might earn blades this time, just curiosity and maybe a window.

Patience, Shu.. On his walk he counts the guards amd their weapons and tries to glance around and try to locate anything that can pass as either a tool or weapon that he can get his hands on given opportunity. Shu loved opportunities.

Godfrey will try to pinpoint anything on his path to the ladders that he can get his hands on if presented with a distraction. He would like to count the number of slaves and thugs.

He will do his best not to seem aggresive and look more meek and compliant.

Bluff [roll0]
Perception [roll1]

[aReallyGreatAxe]

Godfrey notices there are more than a few things around the hold, mostly in the form of barrels and a disassembled catapult. There are also cages with sad, thin looking pigs at the other end. Other than that, there's the sleeping man, and a crowd of increasingly annoyed pirates with weapons drawn. Said crowd is seven in number.

As Godfrey's practiced eye slides over the hold, taking note of all possibilities, the whip cracks near Godfrey's hand, a near miss- but clearly an intentional one.
"Don't. Try. It." The man hisses, his eyes roaming over Godfrey, clearly measuring him up.

"Master Scourge," Asks a very tall, thin woman, shifting her grip on the cutlass uncomfortably. "Permission to attack?"

An unhealthily yellow half-orc exchanges glances with the blonde woman and makes swift, precise motions with his fingers, almost as if casting a spell. She rolls her eyes and speaks in a playful cadence. "Jape says to stick with the plan, Shiv."

"Shut yer traps," Master Scourge snaps, his gold teeth flashing. "Or ye can have a lash as well."


Master Scourge is readying an action to whip if Godfrey tries anything.



Because I'm a visual person, and it helped me to remember who is who.
https://i.imgur.com/lPrxv9m.png https://i.imgur.com/DND3oNX.png https://i.imgur.com/6r4kMI3.png https://i.imgur.com/yi3Ntoc.png

[PolarBugbear]

...it was a delightful dream, the earthy smell of the riverbank after a flood, the singing of the women as they beat the washing against the stones, the laughter of the children, the droplets of water that glistened in the evening sun, the melodic strains of a mother's voice, calling her child in for supper, and the cold...
...the cold.
...and the wet. But not the nice warm wetness of the river back home, this was colder... in more ways than one.
It took everything Yamayim had not to vomit as they came back into their body, wherever it was. This swaying feeling should have been familiar, even natural, but something was... wrong.
Their eyes flew open to a blurred collection of faces, grinning balefully down at them.
"This is... unfortunate.", Yamayim said under their breath.
They moved slowly, deliberately, careful not to break eye contact with the one with the... were those false teeth? As their eyes fell on the others, and the blades they carried, they walked backwards, trying to put as much distance between themselves and these...people... as possible.

[roll0] Knowledge Nature

[Chimaera]

"Try... what?", he plays dumb and looks at the whip master waiting for an order to resume walking. Looking at Shiv's blade he gulps, "Easy, pretty face. Stick to the plan, okay?".

Godfrey then resume going wherever they wanted they to go.

[aReallyGreatAxe]

Apparently satisfied that there would be no more outbursts, Master Scourge jerks his thumb quickly at the stairs. "Aretta, you lead 'em." A redheaded, large-eared woman wearing the ruins of once-provocative clothing hops to, beckoning you all.

You’re led up the set of stairs past a small nest of hammocks, and out the door into sunlight so bright that you can’t even escape from the piercing glow by closing your eyes. Once your eyes adjust to the colors that are somehow both washed out and too bright, your predicament becomes all too apparent.
This is the deck of a sizable ship, and while Yamayim’s weakened vision fails to yield any more information than that, the rest of you can see the azure stretch of ocean all around you, with land a faint ochre haze many miles away. And atop the mast flies a flag- black, with the outline of a whale carcass in stark white in the center,above crossed pistols. A pirate flag, if you’ve ever seen one.

Figures cluster around the base of the ship’s mainmast, looking up at a higher deck on the stern, where two figures stand. Thankfully, they stand right before that undefined line where Yamayim’s vision fades to nothing. One of them is a broad, muscular man with a shaven head, a long beard bound with gold rings, and an eye patch. Two mother of pearl pistols dangle from his belt, and he caresses the stock of one lightly as he waits. The way in which the crew stares intently at him would seem to indicate that this is someone very, very important.
The other is a younger, balding man with a long black ponytail on the back of his head, wearing a long coat and carrying a cat-o’-nine-tails at his belt. Everything about this man seems in imitation of the other, from the long coat and oversize boots to the pistols hanging at his side- and even from a distance, some of you find these firearms very familiar.

Once the last of you stops moving, the bearded man smiles, and you immediately wish he hadn’t. It’s not a welcoming smile, it’s the grin of a barracuda that’s found its next prey. “Glad you could join us at last! Welcome to the Wormwood! My thanks for…” He trails off, snorts a laugh and then continues “ ‘volunteering’ to join my crew. I’m Barnabas Harrigan. That’s Captain Barnabas Harrigan to you, not that you’ll ever need to address me. I have only one rule—don’t speak to me. I like talk, but I don’t like your talk. Follow that rule and we’ll all get along fine.”

He strokes his beard in imitation of a paternal gesture. “Oh, and one more thing. Even with you new recruits, we’re still short-handed, and I aim to keep what crew I have. There’ll be a keelhaulin’ for anyone caught killin’ anyone. Mr. Plugg!” He barks this last to the younger man, who turns to him with a gritting of teeth. “If you’d be so kind as to make pirates out of these landlubbers, it’ll save me having to put them in the sweatbox for a year and a day before I make pies out of ’em.” At the end of his speech, the captain walks away, the audience clearly dismissed, leaving behind the man with the cat-o’-nine-tails. The assorted pirates quickly disperse back to their intended tasks.

Mr. Plugg looks down at you all and smiles unpleasantly, in a clear attempt to ape the captain’s fiendish grin. He descends from the sterncastle slowly and deliberately, letting his hand trail along the rail, clearly enjoying the feel of all eyes on him.
“Now,” He says, in a smooth and oily voice. “Who here can cook?”


https://i.imgur.com/lPrxv9m.png https://i.imgur.com/6HEKcf2.pnghttps://i.imgur.com/7uDM6pP.png https://i.imgur.com/v7WFY3W.png

[Table Flipper]

Charming lot, this. No wonder they didn't try asking first.

Sarra sizes up her situation and decides that, under past and current circumstances, work is work, though mayhaps that could change next time the ship came to port. For now though...

"I've made due before." She says after no one else answers Plugg's question for a bit. "If edible's what yer looking fer."

Survival +6 and backstory means Sarra's probably had to prepare her own food at some point.

[aReallyGreatAxe]

"Congratulations," Mr. Plugg says dryly. "You're cook's mate. Jack!” Mr. Plugg snaps, calling out one of the many pirates that scurry along the deck. “Bring ‘er to Fishguts.”

The pirate who snaps to the task is little more than a boy, short black curls held down by a vividly red bandana against his deep brown face. In one ear glints a large gold earring. As he leads Sarra back down into the darkness of the hold, Jack speaks in a voice that still occasionally cracks “You’ll be alright, you know? Ol’ Fishguts isn’t half as scary as he sounds, though he is a bit… addled? That’s why he needs a cook’s mate.” He turns to give Sarra the first genuine smile she's seen since she came on this vessel.

“Now.” Mr Plugg says, turning to the rest of you. “To the crow’s nest. Let me see how you climb.” He draws the pistol that once was Elim’s from his belt and aims it to the sky, obviously unsure of the right way to hold the thing. “Three…. Two… One…”

BANG!

The gunshot rings out over the ship, causing heads to whip around. A bedraggled one-eyed gnome even drops the rope she was tying with a heavy thump.


Please make me three climb checks, if you wish to try and climb. If you wish to try and...not climb, please make me the applicable social skill check (probably bluff).



https://i.imgur.com/v7WFY3W.png https://i.imgur.com/x5dLmKf.pnghttps://i.imgur.com/xoGoIjL.png

[Table Flipper]

Sarra follows along with Jack, quietly listening as he speaks. "Right. You seem... relaxed. You been on this ship long? Any major rules I should know about?"

[Chimaera]

Watching Mr. Plugg give the order to climb the mast, Godfrey give ita good old try, even though he was far from the b est climber in the world.

First try [roll0]
Second try [roll1]
Third is the charm try [roll2]

After giving it a try he walks away from, the mast to give space for thye rest to try. He comes close to ask the one-eyed gnome to lend him the rope, but thought it would be best if he stop bringing much attention to him.

[SirCatBeard]

Elim's tail twitches almost imperceptibly at the Plugg's incompetance with the weapon. Overdramatic idiot, will have to deal with him, though this is not exactly an advantageous time for such a course, but can lay some groundwork at least. Sauntering up with a piratical swagger, grasping the rigging and digging claws into the wood to scale the mast.

Climb 1: [roll0]+13, so 27
Climb 2: [roll1]
Climb 3: [roll2]+1, so 16

Going to add a d6 to 1 and 3 using the Deed for that, see OOC for rolls.

[aReallyGreatAxe]

Sarra follows along with Jack, quietly listening as he speaks. "Right. You seem... relaxed. You been on this ship long? Any major rules I should know about?"

Jack nods. "I've been here about a month. Most of the crew have, though you’ll find some old hands- like the officers, and Narwhal, for one. He’s the dwarf with the, uh…” His voice drops for the next words, “noticeable nose.”

You seem to remember a dwarf matching this description being in the initial crowd that backed up Master Scourge- if by “noticeable nose”, Jack means “Massive and pockmarked nasal protuberance”

“The rules are pretty much what you’d expect. Be on time, do good work, listen to Mr. Plugg. Oh- and don’t steal from the quartermaster.” He bites his lip, a crack appearing in his jovial demeanor. “Had a friend do that. It’s… not going to end well.”

He leads you to a wooden door that appears to have settled in its frame. "Galley's through here. Good luck?"


https://i.imgur.com/x5dLmKf.png https://i.imgur.com/pn4SiiU.png

[CoffeeIncluded]

Dimitri staggered back, unable to restrain a hell of pain from the sharp slice across his face, and the warm sting of blood blooming down his cheek. He says nothing, though his eyes burn with hatred.

”Bide your time Dimitri. They’ll pay. Later. When you can.” Keelhauling was...he’d seen it before, and never wanted to again.

For now though, play along. The others were kidnapped alongside him. ****, he was kidnapped! How did he let his guard down like that?!

Dimitri only woke from his dissociation when ordered to climb the mast. How could he hold a gun so poorly? Still, him, climbing? “My eyesight isn’t the best at distances,” he said. “I’d be much more useful learning something else.”



[roll0]

[Table Flipper]

Jack nods. "I've been here about a month. Most of the crew have, though you’ll find some old hands- like the officers, and Narwhal, for one. He’s the dwarf with the, uh…” His voice drops for the next words, “noticeable nose.”

You seem to remember a dwarf matching this description being in the initial crowd that backed up Master Scourge- if by “noticeable nose”, Jack means “Massive and pockmarked nasal protuberance”

“The rules are pretty much what you’d expect. Be on time, do good work, listen to Mr. Plugg. Oh- and don’t steal from the quartermaster.” He bites his lip, a crack appearing in his jovial demeanor. “Had a friend do that. It’s… not going to end well.”

He leads you to a wooden door that appears to have settled in its frame. "Galley's through here. Good luck?"


https://i.imgur.com/x5dLmKf.png https://i.imgur.com/pn4SiiU.png

"Thanks." Sarra gives a slight smile despite herself. It was a kind of relief to talk to someone who didn't seem so... aggressively egotistical. "Name's Sarra, by the way, if names even matter on this ship."

She heads on through the door.

[aReallyGreatAxe]

"Thanks." Sarra gives a slight smile despite herself. It was a kind of relief to talk to someone who didn't seem so... aggressively egotistical. "Name's Sarra, by the way, if names even matter on this ship."

She heads on through the door.

"Names always matter," says Jack. "That's another rule, by the way. Not an official one, but you'll be best off if you remember people's names."

The galley door is opened with a bit of a shove of the swollen wood, revealing a scene of utter chaos, chickens, and altogether too many knives. It seems like no-one has given more of a cursory cleaning to this place in months, possibly years, and the detritus of many meals sits abandoned next to a cutting board, letting out an overwhelming smell of rotting fish and stale rum.

You almost don't notice the kitchen's occupant, for the mess. He's slumped in a corner, like so much more garbage, and takes another swig from a mostly empty bottle as he notices you. "So you're the new mate," he slurs, then stirs from his perch, along with a black rooster that remains perched on his shoulder. "You're prob'ly wondering what all that means. Mostly, means you'll help me prepare meals, plus do some fishin'. Whatever it takes to keep the Wormwood running, really. Today you'll be fishin'." He reaches behind him and pulls a rod from the chaos.

He leans in close as he presses the rod into your hand, rum-laden breath puffing in your face. “It’s poison, this ship, but don’t let anyone hear you say it aloud. The hull listens, see, and the cap’n hears it all. Poison the Wormwood is, though, rotten to the core."

His voice drops even further, and he's barely more than whispering companionably as he continues. "You’ll not meet a more nasty, sour piece of work than Cap’n Harrigan in all your days at sea, and his crew’s the same, ’specially the first mate, Mr. Plugg. Vicious little sod, he is. He’d take his own mother’s liver to the butcher to make pies with, he would. But they leave me alone, mostly. They know I can’t ’arm ’em.” He smiles sadly, and takes another sip to finish off the warning tirade.

[Table Flipper]

"Names always matter," says Jack. "That's another rule, by the way. Not an official one, but you'll be best off if you remember people's names."

The galley door is opened with a bit of a shove of the swollen wood, revealing a scene of utter chaos, chickens, and altogether too many knives. It seems like no-one has given more of a cursory cleaning to this place in months, possibly years, and the detritus of many meals sits abandoned next to a cutting board, letting out an overwhelming smell of rotting fish and stale rum.

You almost don't notice the kitchen's occupant, for the mess. He's slumped in a corner, like so much more garbage, and takes another swig from a mostly empty bottle as he notices you. "So you're the new mate," he slurs, then stirs from his perch, along with a black rooster that remains perched on his shoulder. "You're prob'ly wondering what all that means. Mostly, means you'll help me prepare meals, plus do some fishin'. Whatever it takes to keep the Wormwood running, really. Today you'll be fishin'." He reaches behind him and pulls a rod from the chaos.

He leans in close as he presses the rod into your hand, rum-laden breath puffing in your face. “It’s poison, this ship, but don’t let anyone hear you say it aloud. The hull listens, see, and the cap’n hears it all. Poison the Wormwood is, though, rotten to the core."

His voice drops even further, and he's barely more than whispering companionably as he continues. "You’ll not meet a more nasty, sour piece of work than Cap’n Harrigan in all your days at sea, and his crew’s the same, ’specially the first mate, Mr. Plugg. Vicious little sod, he is. He’d take his own mother’s liver to the butcher to make pies with, he would. But they leave me alone, mostly. They know I can’t ’arm ’em.” He smiles sadly, and takes another sip to finish off the warning tirade.

Sarra nods along as the man talks, taking a moment to contemplate where her life's choices (or lack thereof, really) have lead her so far. "I see. So yer the one they call Fishguts, no? Is that how ya like to be called? 'Sir' from me I s'pose, if yer my direct now. My name's Sarra." Sarra inspects the fishing rod in her hand as she speaks. "Fishin', huh? You got a favorite fishin' spot on the ship?"

[PolarBugbear]

Watching the others head toward the mast, Yamayim's stomach lurches. "Getting one's sea legs", a phrase often heard in reference to the, er...less-than-gifted humans... who attempted to best even the youngest members of the village, but more often than not made an amusing spectacle of themselves, intruded on their thoughts. Yamayim wiped the sweat from their upper lip as they looked toward the upper deck with dread.

[roll0]

[aReallyGreatAxe]

Dmitri

Mr. Plugg eyes you up and down disdainfully. “Weak eyes? Best hope you don’t have a weak back. It’ll be the bilges for you today. Badger!” he snaps to a nearby pirate. “Show ‘im to the bilges. Maybe Magpie’d like some company.”

The sailor indicated is an exhausted looking older woman, half-elven at least judging by the ears. Her graying black hair is shaved into stripes, with the remainder gathered up into a tight ponytail.

The bilges prove to be a cramped room in the very bowels of the ship, where the low ceiling is mere feet above the unpleasant, stinking surface of the water. Or, what could be politely termed as water, for this contains many worse substances. The only thing worse than the smell would be the abnormally large spiders you occasionally sight scuttling across the ceiling.

You aren’t alone down here, and that’s not just because of your new arachnid friends. There’s also several sets of manacles screwed into the wood, in one of which a morose man slumps. He turns his face away as you enter, but the tear tracks in the grime on his cheeks are still plain as day.

Badger sloshes into the knee-deep water, and over to a pump. “We take turns,” she says simply, rolling up her sleeves. “You gamble any?” She asks in the brief period before exertion makes conversation uncomfortable.



Your job for the day is to man the bilges. How exciting.
Man the Bilges: Vile and sweaty work cleaning out the bilges (area A11), requiring a DC 12 Strength check. The PC must also make a DC 10 Constitution check to avoid being fatigued at the end of the shift.

This, of course, restricts whom you can choose to socialize with to Badger and Jakes Magpie.
https://i.imgur.com/qZJniZE.png https://i.imgur.com/sFcpdyF.png



Yamayim, Elim, and Godfrey

The crow’s nest is pretty far up, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. By hand or by claw, you lift yourself into the rigging and get to business. Elim pulls ahead immediately, but the other two give chase with everything they have. This isn’t so hard, you think- and it’s then that Yamayim’s vision fails them, and leaves them grasping at a handhold that doesn’t exist. Down, down they fall to land on the deck with a sickening
CRACK.

Consciousness, however, does not desert poor Yamayim, although perhaps they wish it had, for it would free them from the blinding pain in their leg. Mr. Plugg tsks, rolling his eyes, and calls out another. “Sandara. Fix this sorry excuse for a sailor up enough to work.”
A woman in a tricorne hat puts down the rope she’s tying in a hurry and comes over, her hands fluttering about over Yamayim like “Now, try to not move-”

“Hurry up,” Mr. Plugg interrupts in a bored sounding tone. Sandara glowers at him and swears into the ruffed neckline of her shirt. But along with the rude language flows a soothing energy. While it doesn’t take away the pain, it surely lessens, and Yamayim’s leg feels, if not whole, then at least not like it will snap off at the slightest provocation.

“You’ll be mending things with Sandara,” Mr. Plugg declares even as the healing is still setting in and he looks up at the crow’s nest. “Well, it seems we have a winner.”


Yamayim, number one, takes nine damage from their fall.
Then they are healed [roll0] by Sandara.
https://i.imgur.com/CtjH8O7.png

Their job is to repair things.
Repairs: Things constantly tear or break aboard the ship and need repairs, whether sewing sails or splicing rope all day, requiring a DC 10 Profession (sailor) or Dexterity check.

Your options for chit-chat are anyone on deck, namely these faces:
Aretta https://i.imgur.com/6HEKcf2.png
Cog https://i.imgur.com/b7ZKSY0.png Fipps https://i.imgur.com/PEM5BKI.png
Giffer https://i.imgur.com/xoGoIjL.png Jack https://i.imgur.com/x5dLmKf.png
Jaundiced Jape https://i.imgur.com/DND3oNX.png
Rosie https://i.imgur.com/HQtcIrH.png Sandara https://i.imgur.com/CtjH8O7.png
Shivikah https://i.imgur.com/yi3Ntoc.png Tilly https://i.imgur.com/4eX6VJM.png


Elim, you stand tall and proud at the top of the crow’s nest, sun on your face and the wind in your fur, it’s perhaps the most pleasant place you’ve been in a while. Godfrey still remains halfway up when Mr. Plugg calls to “GET BACK DOWN HERE” and impatiently taps his foot as you descend.

Godfrey’s boot barely touches the deck before Mr. Plugg dubs him with his job. “Runner. You’re a runner today.” The sailor that’s already been pulled aside for you is Shiv, the tall woman who was so eager to gut you upon awakening.

She eyes Godfrey up and down. “You’ll do. Just follow orders, do as we say. Be fast. And don’t call me ‘pretty face’.”


https://i.imgur.com/yi3Ntoc.png
Runner: Passing messages to the crew and officers of the Wormwood in all parts of the ship except officers’ cabins (areas A4 and A5), requiring a DC 10 Acrobatics check and DC 10 Constitution check. Failing the Constitution check results in the PC being fatigued at the end of the shift. A PC with the Run feat automatically succeeds at this task.

This task allows you freedom from one end of the ship to the other, and gives you access to the following NPCs:

Barefoot Samms https://i.imgur.com/do4TqOo.png Concobhar https://i.imgur.com/gSIWTzt.png
Maheem https://i.imgur.com/0Ujf0vv.png Narwhal https://i.imgur.com/pn4SiiU.png
Ratline https://i.imgur.com/KyL47Nw.png Slippery Syl https://i.imgur.com/6r4kMI3.png



Aretta https://i.imgur.com/6HEKcf2.png Badger https://i.imgur.com/qZJniZE.png
Cog https://i.imgur.com/b7ZKSY0.png Fipps https://i.imgur.com/PEM5BKI.png
Giffer https://i.imgur.com/xoGoIjL.png Jack https://i.imgur.com/x5dLmKf.png
Jakes Magpie https://i.imgur.com/sFcpdyF.png Jaundiced Jape https://i.imgur.com/DND3oNX.png
Rosie https://i.imgur.com/HQtcIrH.png Sandara https://i.imgur.com/CtjH8O7.png
Shivikah https://i.imgur.com/yi3Ntoc.png Tilly https://i.imgur.com/4eX6VJM.png



Captain Harrigan https://i.imgur.com/7uDM6pP.png Cut-Throat Grok https://i.imgur.com/ZzJyekb.png
Fishguts https://i.imgur.com/MM4J0Ml.png Krine https://i.imgur.com/yFDsO59.png
Master Scourge https://i.imgur.com/lPrxv9m.png Mr. Plugg https://i.imgur.com/v7WFY3W.png
Patch https://i.imgur.com/84h5PHw.png Peppery https://i.imgur.com/uiR1tbE.png
Stitchman https://i.imgur.com/f3cQJBW.png Caulky https://i.imgur.com/CnemYK2.png



Finally, Mr. Plugg waits for Elim at the base of the mast, stroking the haft of his pistol thoughtfully. Then he stalks off to do… whatever it is he does with himself aboard a ship. Remaining behind him is a small gnome who, at first glance, is the piratiest thing you’ve ever seen. On second glance, he appears like a small child playing dress up. He bears a foppish purple hat that throws shade on his sweatstained ruffled shirt, and a dandyish cane in one hand. His mustaches are well oiled and curl playfully up towards his glistening eye patch, for of course he has an eye patch. “Conchobhar Turlach Shortstone,” he introduces himself as he reaches up to shake your furred hand. “I’m here to show you the ropes. See, there’s one over there-” He points to a coil of rope and laughs uproariously at his own poor joke. When the laughter dies down he wipes at the corner of his eye. “We’re on Mainsail duty today. Don’t worry, it’s knot a bad job. Get it- Knot?” He chuckles again.


https://i.imgur.com/gSIWTzt.png
Elim’s job for the day is Mainsail duty.
Mainsail Duties: Tough work raising and lowering the mainsail, requiring a DC 10 Profession (sailor) or Strength check. The PC must also make a DC 10 Constitution check to avoid being fatigued at the end of the shift.

He has access to any and all Riggers today:
https://i.imgur.com/do4TqOo.png https://i.imgur.com/gSIWTzt.png https://i.imgur.com/0Ujf0vv.png https://i.imgur.com/pn4SiiU.png https://i.imgur.com/KyL47Nw.png https://i.imgur.com/6r4kMI3.png



Sarra

“I fish off the side of ‘er, generally.” the chef says helpfully.
The man picks at his ear thoughtfully. “Been a while since anyone called me Sir. Fishguts is fine, that’s what everyone calls me. That’s all I am now. Fishguts…” He trails off into silence and the bottom of a rum bottle.

Up on deck, you try to seek out a friendly face, and catch sight of a bedraggled gnome that’s having a little trouble with the rope she’s attempting to tie. “Oh, you’re the new lass, ain’t ya?” She asks when she notices you. “Ain’t you the lucky one. To wake up aboard the mighty Wormwood, now tha’s a treat. They get ya in the middle o’ the night? Hit ya over the head? Drugged ya? Or are ya like me-” She spits off the side of the ship “And they just scooped ya up like a sack o’ potatoes, and refused to put ya back down?” She laughs a little at her past predicament, and turns her single eye back to the knot she’s still working on. “First day’s a mite rough, ain’t it?”


Since you asked for the friendliest, I gave you Giffer. :)
https://i.imgur.com/xoGoIjL.png

[PolarBugbear]

Yamayim

The crow’s nest is pretty far up, but it’s nothing you can’t handle. By hand or by claw, you lift yourself into the rigging and get to business. Elim pulls ahead immediately, but the other two give chase with everything they have. This isn’t so hard, you think- and it’s then that Yamayim’s vision fails them, and leaves them grasping at a handhold that doesn’t exist. Down, down they fall to land on the deck with a sickening
CRACK.

Consciousness, however, does not desert poor Yamayim, although perhaps they wish it had, for it would free them from the blinding pain in their leg. Mr. Plugg tsks, rolling his eyes, and calls out another. “Sandara. Fix this sorry excuse for a sailor up enough to work.”
A woman in a tricorne hat puts down the rope she’s tying in a hurry and comes over, her hands fluttering about over Yamayim like “Now, try to not move-”

“Hurry up,” Mr. Plugg interrupts in a bored sounding tone. Sandara glowers at him and swears into the ruffed neckline of her shirt. But along with the rude language flows a soothing energy. While it doesn’t take away the pain, it surely lessens, and Yamayim’s leg feels, if not whole, then at least not like it will snap off at the slightest provocation.

“You’ll be mending things with Sandara,” Mr. Plugg declares even as the healing is still setting in and he looks up at the crow’s nest. “Well, it seems we have a winner.”


Yamayim, number one, takes nine damage from their fall.
Then they are healed [roll0] by Sandara.
https://i.imgur.com/CtjH8O7.png

Their job is to repair things.
Repairs: Things constantly tear or break aboard the ship and need repairs, whether sewing sails or splicing rope all day, requiring a DC 10 Profession (sailor) or Dexterity check.



Yamayim strains through the tears in their eyes to look up at Sandara, managing a weak "thank you" before biting down hard on their bottom lip to avoid screaming. Once they were able to speak without grimacing, they squeaked out suddenly, "My name is Yayamim. You are Sandara. Did they do this to you, too?" They struggled to their feet, looking expectantly at Sandara and moving to follow her.

[roll0]

[Table Flipper]

"Uh... drugged, I think. The others seemed to think." Sarra sets aside her fishing equipment for a moment to assist with the knot, barring any objection from the gnome. "Heh. 'Mite rough' is one way to describe it, though you certainly seem to have adjusted alright. Name's Sarra, and you are?"

[Chimaera]

When Yamamim falls down and crash on the deck, Godfrey give climbing an extra effort, but is glad to have given another task: he was pretty sure it was more luck than skill taht prevented him from falling as well in the first place, but if he was given a whole day wroking from that height... He would probble split his skull in the deck. Specially with his current lucky streak: first the whole Godfrey's fiasco and then joining a pirate ship.

He waits for Mr. Plugg to be gone and for them to be on their way to whatever task she had for him.

"So today I'm a runner", he saysafter instructed, "Alright. Since pretty face is banned and I'm sure darling or honey are as well... how should I call you?", he asks the pirate woman and slap his head, "Oh, how rude of me! After the warm hospitality and threat of stabbing I've almost forgot my manners, my name is Godfrey". He uses the joke to try to get a feeling on this pirate woman, seeing how she react to jokes.

"And does one have to change the job every day?"., he asks her and get ready to start running around the ship delivering messages and getting used to the ship layout and the many faces.

[aReallyGreatAxe]

Yamayim strains through the tears in their eyes to look up at Sandara, managing a weak "thank you" before biting down hard on their bottom lip to avoid screaming. Once they were able to speak without grimacing, they squeaked out suddenly, "My name is Yayamim. You are Sandara. Did they do this to you, too?" They struggled to their feet, looking expectantly at Sandara and moving to follow her.



[roll0]

"Well, hello Yamayim." Sandara takes Yamayim by the arm and leads them to one side of the vessel. "Yes, they did 'this' to me. Someone fell that time around too. He died on the spot." She nods,businesslike. "I wasn't a good enough healer that time. I tried." She shrugs. " But this time, the Lady favored you. Better a leg than a neck." Sandara ventures a smile. "Management around here's a bit... heavy handed for my taste. What do you say we try to stick together, two heads better than one and all that."


"Uh... drugged, I think. The others seemed to think." Sarra sets aside her fishing equipment for a moment to assist with the knot, barring any objection from the gnome. "Heh. 'Mite rough' is one way to describe it, though you certainly seem to have adjusted alright. Name's Sarra, and you are?"

"I'm Giffer," claims the gnome. "Say, you're a fast hand at those knots. Ain't it a shame they put ya to fishin'." She accepts the assistance gratefully, "I've 'adjusted alright', if ya want to say that. Mostly thanks to Conchobhar- he's a funny one. And so handsome," the last is said in an offhand voice. "Don't ya think? He's the one with the purple hat." Giffer jerks her head up at a foppish gnome in the rigging who looks like nothing so much as someone pretending to be a pirate. "He don't pay me no mind though."


When Yamamim falls down and crash on the deck, Godfrey give climbing an extra effort, but is glad to have given another task: he was pretty sure it was more luck than skill taht prevented him from falling as well in the first place, but if he was given a whole day wroking from that height... He would probble split his skull in the deck. Specially with his current lucky streak: first the whole Godfrey's fiasco and then joining a pirate ship.

He waits for Mr. Plugg to be gone and for them to be on their way to whatever task she had for him.

"So today I'm a runner", he saysafter instructed, "Alright. Since pretty face is banned and I'm sure darling or honey are as well... how should I call you?", he asks the pirate woman and slap his head, "Oh, how rude of me! After the warm hospitality and threat of stabbing I've almost forgot my manners, my name is Godfrey". He uses the joke to try to get a feeling on this pirate woman, seeing how she react to jokes.

"And does one have to change the job every day?"., he asks her and get ready to start running around the ship delivering messages and getting used to the ship layout and the many faces.

"Shivikah is my given name, and Shivikah I will be called," Shiv says, the joke appearing to soar over her head like a seagull. "And yes, our jobs are assigned each day. Mr. Plugg is a kinder master than most in the City of Chains," She says the last in a practiced tone, as if she's rehearsed the phrase so much that it comes to her lips unnaturally. "Though you'll feel the lash sooner than later. My lash, in a way." She shrugs. "But it's not mine any longer. The officers have a right to any weapons they choose. Was that your pistol?"

[Chimaera]

"Shivikah it will be then", he says and is confused for a moment, "My pistol? Ah no. I prefer crossbows and shivs the better, but the best is not to have to use them at all".

"Any tip to avoid the lash as much as possible?", he eventuallt asks her after delivering some messages.

[CoffeeIncluded]

Dmitri

Mr. Plugg eyes you up and down disdainfully. “Weak eyes? Best hope you don’t have a weak back. It’ll be the bilges for you today. Badger!” he snaps to a nearby pirate. “Show ‘im to the bilges. Maybe Magpie’d like some company.”

The sailor indicated is an exhausted looking older woman, half-elven at least judging by the ears. Her graying black hair is shaved into stripes, with the remainder gathered up into a tight ponytail.

The bilges prove to be a cramped room in the very bowels of the ship, where the low ceiling is mere feet above the unpleasant, stinking surface of the water. Or, what could be politely termed as water, for this contains many worse substances. The only thing worse than the smell would be the abnormally large spiders you occasionally sight scuttling across the ceiling.

You aren’t alone down here, and that’s not just because of your new arachnid friends. There’s also several sets of manacles screwed into the wood, in one of which a morose man slumps. He turns his face away as you enter, but the tear tracks in the grime on his cheeks are still plain as day.

Badger sloshes into the knee-deep water, and over to a pump. “We take turns,” she says simply, rolling up her sleeves. “You gamble any?” She asks in the brief period before exertion makes conversation uncomfortable.



Your job for the day is to man the bilges. How exciting.
Man the Bilges: Vile and sweaty work cleaning out the bilges (area A11), requiring a DC 12 Strength check. The PC must also make a DC 10 Constitution check to avoid being fatigued at the end of the shift.

This, of course, restricts whom you can choose to socialize with to Badger and Jakes Magpie.
https://i.imgur.com/qZJniZE.png https://i.imgur.com/sFcpdyF.png


Dimitri gags and very nearly vomits into The already stinking vomit. He manages to control himself and mutter, ”Yeah, I’m not doing this.” a muttered incantation, a flash of violet magic, and the room suddenly smells significantly better. There’s still an undertone of bilge water but it’s not overwhelming like before.

“Yeah, and I’m a pretty damn good bluffer myself. Rat bastards stole my cards too.” And his cigarettes, he realizes with horror, but he’d rather not think about that right now. What happened to him?”


Dimitri casts prestidigitation to help make the room smell better and keep everyone relatively clean. He does this more if he rolls poorly.

Strength: [roll0]
Constitution: [roll1]

[Table Flipper]

"Thanks, but I'm not so bad at fishin' either." Sarra looks over at this Conchobhar. "That is a nice hat, and an impressive mustache!" Sarra turns back to Giffer. "I'm sure ya could get his attention somehow, if'n ya were looking to."

[SirCatBeard]

Elim, you stand tall and proud at the top of the crow’s nest, sun on your face and the wind in your fur, it’s perhaps the most pleasant place you’ve been in a while. Godfrey still remains halfway up when Mr. Plugg calls to “GET BACK DOWN HERE” and impatiently taps his foot as you descend.

Finally, Mr. Plugg waits for Elim at the base of the mast, stroking the haft of his pistol thoughtfully. Then he stalks off to do… whatever it is he does with himself aboard a ship. Remaining behind him is a small gnome who, at first glance, is the piratiest thing you’ve ever seen. On second glance, he appears like a small child playing dress up. He bears a foppish purple hat that throws shade on his sweatstained ruffled shirt, and a dandyish cane in one hand. His mustaches are well oiled and curl playfully up towards his glistening eye patch, for of course he has an eye patch.


https://i.imgur.com/gSIWTzt.png
Elim’s job for the day is Mainsail duty.
Mainsail Duties: Tough work raising and lowering the mainsail, requiring a DC 10 Profession (sailor) or Strength check. The PC must also make a DC 10 Constitution check to avoid being fatigued at the end of the shift.

He has access to any and all Riggers today:
https://i.imgur.com/do4TqOo.png https://i.imgur.com/gSIWTzt.png https://i.imgur.com/0Ujf0vv.png https://i.imgur.com/pn4SiiU.png https://i.imgur.com/KyL47Nw.png https://i.imgur.com/6r4kMI3.png


Elim's eyes track Plugg coldly as he leaves. Only when he is out of sight does he turn to regard the tiny pirate next to him.


“Conchobhar Turlach Shortstone,” he introduces himself as he reaches up to shake your furred hand. “I’m here to show you the ropes. See, there’s one over there-” He points to a coil of rope and laughs uproariously at his own poor joke. When the laughter dies down he wipes at the corner of his eye. “We’re on Mainsail duty today. Don’t worry, it’s knot a bad job. Get it- Knot?” He chuckles again.

Elim stares at the gnome's words for three moments before a smile and a chuckle reach his face, the first genuine
reaction he has displayed on the ship."Heheheh. You aren't much like the others, are you." As they begin to go through the motions of the work away from others, where the cool breeze covers the words, he adds quietly "But you try to look it. Why? I take it you were abducted, too. Or is the look just a mask?"

Work and Influence Conchobhar, because he sounds like a fungi.
Well, I've never hoist a Mainsail: [roll0]
Constitution: [roll1]

[aReallyGreatAxe]

"Shivikah it will be then", he says and is confused for a moment, "My pistol? Ah no. I prefer crossbows and shivs the better, but the best is not to have to use them at all".

"Any tip to avoid the lash as much as possible?", he eventuallt asks her after delivering some messages.

"Tips? No, I have no tips. Simply obey." She shakes her head. "And don't try any funny business. Look," She stares down at you, making sure Godfrey's attention is as rapt as she desires. "Simply follow my lead and you too will rise to a place of success in this crew. Mr. Plugg is a kinder master than most in the City of Chains." This time, her refrain is clearly meant as comforting words.


Dimitri gags and very nearly vomits into The already stinking vomit. He manages to control himself and mutter, ”Yeah, I’m not doing this.” a muttered incantation, a flash of violet magic, and the room suddenly smells significantly better. There’s still an undertone of bilge water but it’s not overwhelming like before.

“Yeah, and I’m a pretty damn good bluffer myself. Rat bastards stole my cards too.” And his cigarettes, he realizes with horror, but he’d rather not think about that right now. What happened to him?”


Dimitri casts prestidigitation to help make the room smell better and keep everyone relatively clean. He does this more if he rolls poorly.

Strength: [roll0]
Constitution: [roll1]
Badger appears relieved at the lessening of the scent, the web of wrinkles around her eyes easing. "Thanks. You and me, we should gamble some. Tell you what, I bet my rum ration that I can take you on."

She turns to look at the chained man before answering Dmitri's question. "Poor sot. Got caught stealing. Won't last past bloody hour." Badger nods as if confirming the thought to herself.


Dmitri is Fatigued.



"Thanks, but I'm not so bad at fishin' either." Sarra looks over at this Conchobhar. "That is a nice hat, and an impressive mustache!" Sarra turns back to Giffer. "I'm sure ya could get his attention somehow, if'n ya were looking to."

"I've done tried everythin'", Giffer says, preening a little. "But while he's got eyes for ev'ry woman on this here ship, his heart belongs to Rosie. Shame is, she won't have hide nor hair of him! Ya think he'd give up when she called him a 'yellow-livered fop'."


Elim's eyes track Plugg coldly as he leaves. Only when he is out of sight does he turn to regard the tiny pirate next to him.

Elim stares at the gnome's words for three moments before a smile and a chuckle reach his face, the first genuine
reaction he has displayed on the ship."Heheheh. You aren't much like the others, are you." As they begin to go through the motions of the work away from others, where the cool breeze covers the words, he adds quietly "But you try to look it. Why? I take it you were abducted, too. Or is the look just a mask?"

Work and Influence Conchobhar, because he sounds like a fungi.
Well, I've never hoist a Mainsail: [roll0]
Constitution: [roll1]


Conchobhar briefly spares a hand from his work to twirl his mustache in mock affront. "Excuse you, I look mauvelous." He gestures at the indeed mauve trousers that poke out from his downturned boot tops. “My clothing has stayed with me. You know, the women always love a pirate.” He winks- or you assume he’s winking, for his eye closes. ”Or at least most of the women love a pirate. That Rosie…” He sighs melodramatically. “As for abducted… you could say that. I prefer to say I was ‘fortuitously nobbled’.”

Everyone
One way or another, you work away until the ship’s clock tolls the Bloody Hour, as you have learned the punishment time aboard the ship is called. It’s all hands on deck for the Bloody Hour.

The ship’s clock is a macabre thing, bolted to the front of the mast and carved with intricate depictions of whale corpses through which large and bloated worms writhe. Its chime is dolorous and uluating, as if the clock itself is aggrieved to see blood spilt before it.

And blood will be spilt today, for Master Scourge soon comes up on deck, accompanied by two of his stooges. Between Aretta and Shiv struggles the unfortunate man that Dmitri remembers from the bilges. As they begin tying him up, Mr. Plugg declares the charges. “Today, we bear witness to the punishment of one Jakes Magpie, thief.”

“I didn’t do it!” Jakes blurts out, his cheeks burning a feverish red beneath the grime. “Someone must’ve put it in my locker, I swear--” Master Scourge’s backhand cuts off any further protest.

“Thief.” Mr. Plugg repeats. “And for this terrible crime against Captain and crew, we sentence him to a keelhauling. Nice and slow.”

There’s a mixture of cheers and groans from the crew.
The color drains from Jakes’ face as he stammers garbled pleas for his life, pleas that go unanswered as he is tied up and led to the rail. “But I really didn’t-” and with the last protest, he’s gone, to be dragged under the ship.


Mr. Plugg, in particular, seems to tug at the rope with relish. It’s clear that he’s enjoying this.


What is pulled up on the other side is barely recognizable as human, and is soon thrown overboard to feed the sharks.


You doubt that any of you would be able to survive the drowning, let alone being cut to shreds by the barnacles peppering the Wormwood’s hull.
You estimate that the unfortunate Jakes took about 24 points of damage, aside from the obvious drowning.


Mr. Plugg turns to the crew, one boot on the spot still slick with Jakes’ blood. “Now that’s over with- what say we celebrate the death of a traitor. Master Scourge- fetch the Owlbear.” His lip curls with pleasure as Scourge disappears back belowdecks, to many more genuine cheers from the crew.

“And who volunteers?” Asks Plugg as a man with a red bandanna pulled low over one ear shoots up his hand immediately. “No, Cog, you embarrassed yourself enough last time.” Mr. Plugg rolls his eyes as Cog lowers his hand like it’s been bit. “No… I have an idea. Why don’t we see how the fresh blood fares against the Owlbear?”

He scans the crowd, picking out each of your faces in turn. “Yes. One of you will fight. Who volunteers?”


https://i.imgur.com/v7WFY3W.pnghttps://i.imgur.com/yi3Ntoc.pnghttps://i.imgur.com/lPrxv9m.pnghttps://i.imgur.com/6HEKcf2.png https://i.imgur.com/sFcpdyF.png https://i.imgur.com/b7ZKSY0.png

[Chimaera]

"I hope the permission to attack was nothing personal. Other than that, I can follow the lead. Any chance to allow me calling you Shiv? I personally like how shiv sounds: sharp and deadly", he waits no answer as he set off to deliver whatever message he was given before.

When the bloody hour start, Godfrey watch as they bring a man reeking and play trial. Because he stole in a pirate ship.

Wasnt that the point in being in a pirate ship, Shu? For people who like to steal, they sure dont like being stolen from.

Once the freakshow is done with, Godfrey was hoping they would let them be and have a break. Instead Plugg wants more blood. Great, just great.

Not being very brave, Godfrey watch the other new guys and wait for someone else to embrace a grizzly death.

[PolarBugbear]

"Well, hello Yamayim." Sandara takes Yamayim by the arm and leads them to one side of the vessel. "Yes, they did 'this' to me. Someone fell that time around too. He died on the spot." She nods,businesslike. "I wasn't a good enough healer that time. I tried." She shrugs. " But this time, the Lady favored you. Better a leg than a neck." Sandara ventures a smile. "Management around here's a bit... heavy handed for my taste. What do you say we try to stick together, two heads better than one and all that."

"Yes, I think that would be best. I suppose I ought to thank the Lady as well." Yamayim nods and manages a weak smile, then gazes upward, imagining a kindly Goddess with a familiar face, splashing with them in the river back home, the light from the sun forming a halo around bright turquoise locks... They force themselves out of the daydream and look back at Sandara with the same smile, only sadder.

[SirCatBeard]

Conchobhar briefly spares a hand from his work to twirl his mustache in mock affront. "Excuse you, I look mauvelous." He gestures at the indeed mauve trousers that poke out from his downturned boot tops. “My clothing has stayed with me. You know, the women always love a pirate.” He winks- or you assume he’s winking, for his eye closes. ”Or at least most of the women love a pirate. That Rosie…” He sighs melodramatically. “As for abducted… you could say that. I prefer to say I was ‘fortuitously nobbled’.”


"Well of course you do, I meant nothing contrary to that." Ah, so this is all to attract others. Elim eases, as the motivations for this man's bizarrely contrary behavior become clear.


Everyone
Mr. Plugg turns to the crew, one boot on the spot still slick with Jakes’ blood. “Now that’s over with- what say we celebrate the death of a traitor. Master Scourge- fetch the Owlbear.” His lip curls with pleasure as Scourge disappears back belowdecks, to many more genuine cheers from the crew.

“And who volunteers?” Asks Plugg as a man with a red bandanna pulled low over one ear shoots up his hand immediately. “No, Cog, you embarrassed yourself enough last time.” Mr. Plugg rolls his eyes as Cog lowers his hand like it’s been bit. “No… I have an idea. Why don’t we see how the fresh blood fares against the Owlbear?”

He scans the crowd, picking out each of your faces in turn. “Yes. One of you will fight. Who volunteers?”


https://i.imgur.com/v7WFY3W.pnghttps://i.imgur.com/yi3Ntoc.pnghttps://i.imgur.com/lPrxv9m.pnghttps://i.imgur.com/6HEKcf2.png https://i.imgur.com/sFcpdyF.png https://i.imgur.com/b7ZKSY0.png


Elim leans close to the nearest crewmember and whispers, slipping back into the apparent common parlance of the ship, "I reckon we ain't to kill it and spoil future fun, when's the fight end?"

[aReallyGreatAxe]

"I hope the permission to attack was nothing personal. Other than that, I can follow the lead. Any chance to allow me calling you Shiv? I personally like how shiv sounds: sharp and deadly", he waits no answer as he set off to deliver whatever message he was given before.

When the bloody hour start, Godfrey watch as they bring a man reeking and play trial. Because he stole in a pirate ship.

Wasnt that the point in being in a pirate ship, Shu? For people who like to steal, they sure dont like being stolen from.

Once the freakshow is done with, Godfrey was hoping they would let them be and have a break. Instead Plugg wants more blood. Great, just great.

Not being very brave, Godfrey watch the other new guys and wait for someone else to embrace a grizzly death.

You get the sense that this man is no stranger to thievery, but in this particular instance truly believes what he's saying; he didn't do it.

On the other hand, that begs the question of who did... and why plant it on this man?



"Yes, I think that would be best. I suppose I ought to thank the Lady as well." Yamayim nods and manages a weak smile, then gazes upward, imagining a kindly Goddess with a familiar face, splashing with them in the river back home, the light from the sun forming a halo around bright turquoise locks... They force themselves out of the daydream and look back at Sandara with the same smile, only sadder.

"The Seafoam Lady," Sandara specifies, seeing Yamayim's apparent interest. "I serve her." She gestures at a shiny button affixed to her shirt. Said button is apparently made of shell with the outer layer peeled away to reveal the glimmering innards in a wavelike pattern.


You know the Seafoam Lady is the goddess of sailors and the ocean.


Specifically, she's the goddess of pirates and sea monsters. How apt.




"Well of course you do, I meant nothing contrary to that." Ah, so this is all to attract others. Elim eases, as the motivations for this man's bizarrely contrary behavior become clear.

Elim leans close to the nearest crewmember and whispers, slipping back into the apparent common parlance of the ship, "I reckon we ain't to kill it and spoil future fun, when's the fight end?"

The nearest crewmember is a bald halfling with unusually long arms. "Fight ends when Plugg says it ends- usually when Owlbear knocks someone out. Or rips off an ear..." His voice is higher than you'd expect, and has a breathy sort of quality. "That ended the fight right quick."

https://i.imgur.com/KyL47Nw.png

[Table Flipper]

Sarra remains silent. She wasn't about to risk her life just to entertain Butt Plugg of all people. Well, given the current circumstances, not willingly, anyway.

[SirCatBeard]

Everyone
Mr. Plugg turns to the crew, one boot on the spot still slick with Jakes’ blood. “Now that’s over with- what say we celebrate the death of a traitor. Master Scourge- fetch the Owlbear.” His lip curls with pleasure as Scourge disappears back belowdecks, to many more genuine cheers from the crew.

“And who volunteers?” Asks Plugg as a man with a red bandanna pulled low over one ear shoots up his hand immediately. “No, Cog, you embarrassed yourself enough last time.” Mr. Plugg rolls his eyes as Cog lowers his hand like it’s been bit. “No… I have an idea. Why don’t we see how the fresh blood fares against the Owlbear?”

He scans the crowd, picking out each of your faces in turn. “Yes. One of you will fight. Who volunteers?”


https://i.imgur.com/v7WFY3W.pnghttps://i.imgur.com/yi3Ntoc.pnghttps://i.imgur.com/lPrxv9m.pnghttps://i.imgur.com/6HEKcf2.png https://i.imgur.com/sFcpdyF.png https://i.imgur.com/b7ZKSY0.png


Elim looks around at the others not saying anything and sighs inwardly.
"Sure. Give me a few light blades and I'll show ye a fight. Hell, if ya give me use of my property and I'll even show you how to use it right, but I win I want my property back." Even if improbable, this crowd likely admires some boasting confidence and that respect could be worth the risk here.

[aReallyGreatAxe]

"Blades?" Laughs Plugg. "Kitty's wanting more of a fight than the rest of you sods! But if you get a weapon, so does the Owlbear. Syl, your knife-"

A grinning blonde woman standing near Plugg loses her smile and begrudgingly hands over a well-worn dagger. Elim notices the weapon feels unusually rough in his hand, courtesy of the dozens of tiny notches carved into the hilt.

The crowd backs up from Elim, forming a rough arena of warm bodies. Whispered voices dart out into your ears- "Fifty on the Owlbear" "No, ten on the cat"
"Let's make it interesting," Says Plugg. "One hundred to the winner."

Master Scourge returns from the hold, rope trailing behind him like a crude leash. He takes in the prepared spectacle, bares his teeth, and yanks on the rope.

Stumbling out from the darkness is not, in fact, a maelstrom of feathers and teeth that some of you may have expected, but simply a man. One that you may recognize as the bound and sleeping form leaning against the stairway below. A very large man, to be sure, with a rope lead tied about his throat and his pale skin marred by many scars as well as the evidence of tarring and feathering that happened not altogether too long ago. "May I present your Champion," says Plugg, "The Owlbear!" Plugg brushes the rope aside and raises the Owlbear's right arm in a gesture of victory.

The Owlbear blinks, seemingly confused by the array of pirates, or perhaps by the sunlight he apparently does not see with any frequency, and allows his bare arm to be hoisted aloft. He lets out an inquisitive, hooting grunt.

Scourge presses a club into the Owlbear's other hand, and understanding dawns across his face. "Again?" He asks, hefting the weapon. At Plugg's curt nod, he slowly shakes his head as if to clear it, turning the club over in his hands. "Alright."

Then he moves, finally, with surprising speed for a man of his size, not hampered at all by the crude and restrictive-looking kilt he wears.


A character who makes a DC 10 Perception or Sense Motive check notices that the Owlbear is blind in his left eye. If his opponent notices this and attempts to fight the Owlbear from that side, that PC can make an Acrobatics or Bluff check each round to easily avoid the Owlbear’s clumsy blows.



[roll0] attack
[roll1] damage



Welcome to your first fight! Catbeard, Elim is up.



https://i.imgur.com/6r4kMI3.png https://i.imgur.com/ue6iibs.png

[SirCatBeard]

Relief and mild disappointment flicker through Elim when the non-owlbear appears, but still not too different from fights he had watched growing up, he just usually hadn't been on this side of them. Of course this reminiscing earns him a staggering club to the side. But once again his childhood training pays off and he circles to the man's left before lunging at him.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Acrobatics to dodge: [roll2] = 14
Also do my last point to Dodging Panache 5ft back and +4 to AC vs next attack. Cause ow, level 1 hitpoints. :smalltongue:

[aReallyGreatAxe]

The Owlbear avoids Elim's slash, seemingly almost by accident as he draws back for another swing. Then the cat makes use of his superior reflexes, zipping back out of range. The club flails out once more, but hits nothing but air as the Owlbear turns, trying to keep Elim in his field of vision.


Catbeard, you're up!

[SirCatBeard]

Thrown off at first by the short knife blade and the roll of the ship, Elim lunges in from his right once more, making sure to actually close the distance this time.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Acro: [roll2]

[aReallyGreatAxe]

The Owlbear grunts, a thin river of blood now running down one muscular arm.

In the crowd, there's a shift as money changes hands, among mutterings of "first blood" .

Elim is easily able to sidestep the Owlbear's retributive bash, which leaves the champion wide open for a brief flicker of time.

[SirCatBeard]

Despite himself, Elim feels the adrenaline rise as he continues to circle and lunge, in and out, to stay out of reach of the heavy club.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Acro: [roll2]

[aReallyGreatAxe]

Elim manages to keep the Owlbear turning, always bobbing and weaving just out of range, blade nipping in for another shallow slash. The champion looks distracted and concerned, glancing back at Mr. Plugg. It appears he doesn't know quite what to do when someone actually puts up a fight.

[SirCatBeard]

Elim throws a pointed glance at Pluggy as well, eyes visibly flicking once from his eyes to his belt before ducking in low to hamstring the large man.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Acro: [roll2]

[aReallyGreatAxe]

Plugg meets Elim's gaze coolly and lays his hand almost tauntingly on the offending weapon, as the Owlbear's kilt interferes with any attempts at hamstringing. It's clear the big man is starting to tire, his wild swings coming with a larger wind up than before.

[SirCatBeard]

Rather than going low this time, Elim stabs the borrowed knife for the forearm of the man's weapon hand.

Attack: [roll0]
Damage: [roll1]

Acro: [roll2]

[aReallyGreatAxe]

The Owlbear doesn't drop his weapon, but he comes close, blood splattering down onto the deck. Dawning horror is in the champion's eyes. "Stop it," he says quietly, lowering his club. "You win."

"What're you waiting for?" snaps Plugg. "Finish him." He rattles his coinpurse in demonstration.

Tears well up in the giant's eyes. "You win," he insists defiantly, cringing back from Elim and, more specifically, his dagger.

"Hurry up," declares Plugg impatiently.

[SirCatBeard]

Elim nods at the big man, before turning, eyes pausing on the familiar object now on Plugg's belt then rising to stare intensely at him. He extends his free hand, palm up, in silent demand.

[aReallyGreatAxe]

Plugg meets Elim's gaze with a sour expression. His lip curls. "So." He states slowly, fixing his eyes on the catfolk's outstretched hand. "We have no winner." Money again changes hands in the crowd, along with a rumbling storm of curses.

The Owlbear's shoulders, which had been hunched in expectation of pain, unclench. He looks to Elim with pure, unadulterated gratefulness. "Thank you," he says in quiet disbelief, as Scourge grabs on to his rope leash and yanks the ex-champion back down into the hold.

"Give back the knife," Plugg orders grumpily. "And what are the rest of you standing around for-Fishguts is waiting."

Fishguts' ministration turns out to be a cup of thoroughly mediocre fish stew, followed by a dispersion of the crew into small knots and cliques.

King among these cliques seems to be the bane of many a seaman's existence- gambling. Bent and battered cards are pulled from many a pocket, dice are rolled across the deck, arm wrestling rings erupt, drinking games spontaniously arise, and most bizarre of all, people begin lobbing a greasy lead ingot. Around each of these little knots small amounts of gold and sloshing drinks are constantly changing hands, by-products of the rampant betting.

Cog sidles up next to Elim, turning his head so that his good ear is nearest the catfolk. "Was nice seeing that brute bloodied for a change. Tell you what, my rum ration ain't much, but it's your winnings for tonight."



So, there's a new set of ship's actions that take place at night!
You get two of these, unless you want to stay up all night, in which case you get four.

Nighttime Ship Actions

Sleep: Go to bed early and sleep through the night
(automatically recover from fatigue)

Gamble: Play or gamble on a game of chance or pirate
entertainment. You all start with one rum ration to bet, save for Elim, who has two.

Entertain: Make one Perform check to entertain the crew


Influence*: Attempt to influence a single NPC

Sneak*: Take time exploring one area of the ship. The PC
can take 20 on a single Perception check or other skill
check, but must make a check to avoid being discovered.

Steal*: Attempt to open a locked door or locker. The PC
must make a check to avoid being discovered.

[PolarBugbear]

"The Seafoam Lady," Sandara specifies, seeing Yamayim's apparent interest. "I serve her." She gestures at a shiny button affixed to her shirt. Said button is apparently made of shell with the outer layer peeled away to reveal the glimmering innards in a wavelike pattern.


Yamayim looks at the shiny button, mesmerized by the waves. Surely a lady with such tokens would know of their village, its people, and their ways. Mayhaps, with the Lady's help, Yamayim might repay them in kind for all they had done...


Rolling for Knowledge Religion
1d20+3

[CoffeeIncluded]

Dimitri just watches the carnage with horror, And rising bloodlust in the back of his mind. How would he like being dragged under the ship?

”What did you say your name was? Elim?” he whispers. Probably best to get the other people shanghaied on his side too. Though, for now, probably better to keep his nose down.

Dimitri makes his way over to the card table, where Badger is probably waiting for him.

(Dimitri will gamble and then sleep early to recover from fatigue)

[Chimaera]

With the owlbear fight over, Godfrey is glad they get a break. That man seems interesting, Shu.

He walks over and sit with the new champion and the others 'recruits'.

"You did well in noticing he was half blind and to let him live. If i havent woke up in a pirate ship I would even share my rum ration as well, but today was a bit rough", he says and look at the people gambling, "Well, congratulations".

He leave the new champion to his own and start walking towards a gambling table to see ig he can at least triple up his rum ration as he hardly think his ration alone will be enough to have him drunk enough to forget today.

"Who want to play some cards?", he challenges some of the crew before adding, "And have cards to: they took all aces from my sleeves when they recruited me", he give whoever is in moody to play a grin and start playing whatever game he knows the rules.

Gambling and influencing someone in the table. Going to sleep if losing, but staying up if winning.

Note: will edit colors and format later.

[Table Flipper]

Sarra walks up to the catfolk that fought the owlbear during a time when neither of them are preoccupied. "Nicely done earlier. Shame it didn't you yer property back. Am I correct thinking that second pistol don't belong to him?"

Whenever exchange with Elim is over, will influence Conchobhar and Rosie for my two night actions.

[SirCatBeard]

Plugg meets Elim's gaze with a sour expression. His lip curls. "So." He states slowly, fixing his eyes on the catfolk's outstretched hand. "We have no winner." Money again changes hands in the crowd, along with a rumbling storm of curses.

The Owlbear's shoulders, which had been hunched in expectation of pain, unclench. He looks to Elim with pure, unadulterated gratefulness. "Thank you," he says in quiet disbelief, as Scourge grabs on to his rope leash and yanks the ex-champion back down into the hold.

Cog sidles up next to Elim, turning his head so that his good ear is nearest the catfolk. "Was nice seeing that brute bloodied for a change. Tell you what, my rum ration ain't much, but it's your winnings for tonight."


Elim ignores Pluggy, Never expected him to give it back, anyway. "Well thank ye, Cog, was it? Though I find it odd that is all he seems to do here. Man of his build would be useful for a number of more productive duties on a ship like this. Can't run a ship efficiently if ye're too busy being a sadist."

Wiping off the blade, he hands it back, hilt first, to Syl, "Thanks. 'Course if he had bothered to mention that it wasn't an actual owlbear, it may not have been necessary."



”What did you say your name was? Elim?” he whispers. Probably best to get the other people shanghaied on his side too. Though, for now, probably better to keep his nose down.

Turning to man speaking, Elim smiles amiably, "Yes, and you are?"



With the owlbear fight over, Godfrey is glad they get a break. That man seems interesting, Shu.

He walks over and sit with the new champion and the others 'recruits'.

"You did well in noticing he was half blind and to let him live. If i havent woke up in a pirate ship I would even share my rum ration as well, but today was a bit rough", he says and look at the people gambling, "Well, congratulations".

Well, I certainly made an impression; now I just have to use it right. Elim thinks, as yet another person approaches him. "Wasn't sure anyone else noticed, ye have sharp eyes."



Sarra walks up to the catfolk that fought the owlbear during a time when neither of them are preoccupied. "Nicely done earlier. Shame it didn't you yer property back. Am I correct thinking that second pistol don't belong to him?"

Elim smiles as the woman approaches, "Thanks. Didn't really expect him to. Ah, should have figured he stole the other, too. Well, it seems we have a common interest there, then."


After exchanges, will head to wherever Syl is gambling(if they are) and Influence them plus Gamble.

[Table Flipper]

Elim smiles as the woman approaches, "Thanks. Didn't really expect him to. Ah, should have figured he stole the other, too. Well, it seems we have a common interest there, then."

"So it would seem. I admit, I haven't met many... fishermen, was it?... that knew how to work such technology, though I suppose I don't much look the part myself." Sarra smiles and holds out her hand. Sarra, by the way."

[SirCatBeard]

"So it would seem. I admit, I haven't met many... fishermen, was it?... that knew how to work such technology, though I suppose I don't much look the part myself." Sarra smiles and holds out her hand. Sarra, by the way."

"Elim." He replies, taking the hand. "Well, it's sort of a family heirloom. No, you are not quite who I would have expected Pluggy to have stolen the other from; may I ask how you got yours?"

[Table Flipper]

"Elim." He replies, taking the hand. "Well, it's sort of a family heirloom. No, you are not quite who I would have expected Pluggy to have stolen the other from; may I ask how you got yours?"

Sarra says nothing for a moment, and then gives a sharp smile. "Payment. Fer years of hard work."

[CoffeeIncluded]

”I’m Dimitri,” he says. ”I take it you were also drugged and shanghaied by these sadistic maniacs?”

[SirCatBeard]

Sarra says nothing for a moment, and then gives a sharp smile. "Payment. Fer years of hard work."

Elim files the pause in his mind but outwardly smiles, "Ah.". If they are reasonably alone, he adds in a hushed tone, "Well then ye be wanting it back as much as I, keep an eye for opportunities."


”I’m Dimitri,” he says. ”I take it you were also drugged and shanghaied by these sadistic maniacs?”

"Aye, seems a good portion of the crew joined that way."

[aReallyGreatAxe]

Gambling

Godfrey, your challenge is met by a raised yellowish hand from Jaundiced Jape displaying a fan of cards. He points at the deck demandingly, then makes some swift hand gestures at the woman beside him. "Jape says have a seat, and let's see what you're made of," Syl translates, cracking her knucles and cackling.

Dmitri, you seek out Badger and find her already at cards, laying down hand after hand and passing around gold and cups of the ol' rum ration with the blonde woman who 'gave' Elim her dagger, Slippery Syl, her mute shadow of a half orc, Jaundiced Jape, Godfrey, and a freckled rigger who appears to eschew the very idea of shoes with a vehement passion.

Badger motions Dmitri over, patting the spot on deck next to her. "Been waiting- Syl, deal him in." Badger appears to play recklessly, bluffing and folding almost at random to throw others off. An interesting tactic, to be sure.... but not a terribly effective one.

Elim wanders over at around this time and manages to get a spot right next to the object of his interest, Slippery Syl. Cards flicker out of her hands to deal you in. "Glad my knife got to see some blood today," she comments as the game begins. "Just a shame it wasn't by my hand. I wonder, do I mark the handle anyway?" Her eyes slide over to her signing friend. "Jape says the Owlbear eats new recruits for breakfast."

Then she turns to the entire group. "Alright, this round is for rum rations... and, to make it fun, ten gold to split for the winners."



Alright, so we're going to play a nice, simple little game called Bounder, because it's possibly the fastest way to simulate gambling.

How it works is thus: The house rolls 3d6. Your goal is to roll 2d20, and have one number higher and one number lower.
You can, in your initial post, put an intent to cheat with a sleight of hand roll, but Syl might catch you. You don't want Syl to catch you.

For example: Syl, as the house, gets a total of 15.
Jaundiced Jape rolls 2d20 and gets a 2 and a 6. This is a loss.
Barefoot Samms rolls 2d20 and gets a 4 and a 17 This is a win.
Badger rolls 2d20 and declares intent to cheat. and gets a 4 and a 12, which would be a losing hand, but she cheats to make it win. Slippery Syl then rolls to detect said cheating, and so on.



Slippery Syl, as the house: [roll0]

Badger, as a player, with intent to cheat: [roll1] [roll2]
SoH roll: [roll3]

Jaundiced Jape, as a player: [roll4] [roll5]

Barefoot Samms, as a player: [roll6] [roll7]




https://i.imgur.com/qZJniZE.png https://i.imgur.com/do4TqOo.png https://i.imgur.com/DND3oNX.png https://i.imgur.com/6r4kMI3.png





Sarra

Sarra finds Cochobhar and Rosie side by side, egging on an arm wrestling match where the loser apparently gets their arm thrust down into a field of broken glass.

"So you're the new lass," Conchobar says, tipping his magnificent hat up at the human. "Shame you're too late to place a bet. You should give it a try tomorrow. It's totally 'armless, I swear. You can handle it. " He chuckles at his own joke and glances over to Rosie, who groans as if the terrible pun is causing her physical pain. His eyebrows draw together, clearly this man has no means of flirting beyond endless punnery.

"It's a pleasure," Rosie intones sarcastically. "Your sorry rear will fit right in with this fop, I'm sure." She elbows Conchobhar sharply and barks a laugh, disrupting his careful array of sweat-soaked silken shirts. "If I had my fiddle, I'd play you a clebratory jig." She intersperses her words with many creative curses, and looks rueful at the lack of said instrument.

https://i.imgur.com/HQtcIrH.png https://i.imgur.com/gSIWTzt.png

[Chimaera]

"Flesh and bones and charm", Godfrey says and wink at Syl, "Are there any houserules?"

He listen to the rules and wait for the other gamblers to join in the table before starting to play, but seemed more interested in watching any would-be cheater than actually winning.

Godfrey wont be cheating instead he'll try catch people trying to cheat. He wont tell though, just take mental notes to which ones are cheaters and avoid hands were he caught them.

Perception: [roll0]

[roll1]

"Other than gambling, is there any use for gold in the ship?", he eventually asks Syl after a losing hand, "I can see it having use when we reach an harbor town... But while overseas, unless someone on board offer services...".

"Actually, even on portuary cities I guess pirates dont pay for goods", Godfrey thinks outloud and shrugs.

[SirCatBeard]

Elim wanders over at around this time and manages to get a spot right next to the object of his interest, Slippery Syl. Cards flicker out of her hands to deal you in. "Glad my knife got to see some blood today," she comments as the game begins. "Just a shame it wasn't by my hand. I wonder, do I mark the handle anyway?" Her eyes slide over to her signing friend. "Jape says the Owlbear eats new recruits for breakfast."


"Go ahead, call it a gift or something; there wouldn't have been any blood without it," Elim says as he sits, casually. "I can see why," he mutters, gesturing to the incipient bruise on his side. "Bet he's useful for a lot of other heavy work around the ship, too."

[roll0] [roll1]
Perception (but primarily watching Syl): [roll2]
Going to play this round straight, at least.

[Table Flipper]

Elim files the pause in his mind but outwardly smiles, "Ah.". If they are reasonably alone, he adds in a hushed tone, "Well then ye be wanting it back as much as I, keep an eye for opportunities."

"No doubt." Sarra nods and walks away calmly.


Sarra finds Cochobhar and Rosie side by side, egging on an arm wrestling match where the loser apparently gets their arm thrust down into a field of broken glass.

"So you're the new lass," Conchobar says, tipping his magnificent hat up at the human. "Shame you're too late to place a bet. You should give it a try tomorrow. It's totally 'armless, I swear. You can handle it. " He chuckles at his own joke and glances over to Rosie, who groans as if the terrible pun is causing her physical pain. His eyebrows draw together, clearly this man has no means of flirting beyond endless punnery.

Sarra laughs at both the puns and, perhaps primarily, at Rosie's reaction. "Aye. I'm sure it can lead to quite the handsome payout indeed.

We must be Roman and Carthaginian, because the Pun-ic Wars have begun. :smalltongue:


Rosie... looks rueful at the lack of said instrument.

https://i.imgur.com/HQtcIrH.png https://i.imgur.com/gSIWTzt.png

Sarra nods along as Rosie tells her tale. Sarra certainly understood what Conchobhar saw in Rosie, but maybe not why he thought she would consider him a good match. Oh well, Sarra just got here. None of her business. "Well that's a shame. What happened to yer fiddle?"

[CoffeeIncluded]

"Aye, seems a good portion of the crew joined that way."

”Hmmmm...and then he pits us all against each other. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”


Gambling
Dmitri, you seek out Badger and find her already at cards, laying down hand after hand and passing around gold and cups of the ol' rum ration with the blonde woman who 'gave' Elim her dagger, Slippery Syl, her mute shadow of a half orc, Jaundiced Jape, Godfrey, and a freckled rigger who appears to eschew the very idea of shoes with a vehement passion.

Badger motions Dmitri over, patting the spot on deck next to her. "Been waiting- Syl, deal him in." Badger appears to play recklessly, bluffing and folding almost at random to throw others off. An interesting tactic, to be sure.... but not a terribly effective one.

Then she turns to the entire group. "Alright, this round is for rum rations... and, to make it fun, ten gold to split for the winners."



Alright, so we're going to play a nice, simple little game called Bounder, because it's possibly the fastest way to simulate gambling.

How it works is thus: The house rolls 3d6. Your goal is to roll 2d20, and have one number higher and one number lower.
You can, in your initial post, put an intent to cheat with a sleight of hand roll, but Syl might catch you. You don't want Syl to catch you.

For example: Syl, as the house, gets a total of 15.
Jaundiced Jape rolls 2d20 and gets a 2 and a 6. This is a loss.
Barefoot Samms rolls 2d20 and gets a 4 and a 17 This is a win.
Badger rolls 2d20 and declares intent to cheat. and gets a 4 and a 12, which would be a losing hand, but she cheats to make it win. Slippery Syl then rolls to detect said cheating, and so on.



Slippery Syl, as the house: [roll0]

Badger, as a player, with intent to cheat: [roll1] [roll2]
SoH roll: [roll3]

Jaundiced Jape, as a player: [roll4] [roll5]

Barefoot Samms, as a player: [roll6] [roll7]




https://i.imgur.com/qZJniZE.png https://i.imgur.com/do4TqOo.png https://i.imgur.com/DND3oNX.png https://i.imgur.com/6r4kMI3.png





Sarra

Sarra finds Cochobhar and Rosie side by side, egging on an arm wrestling match where the loser apparently gets their arm thrust down into a field of broken glass.

"So you're the new lass," Conchobar says, tipping his magnificent hat up at the human. "Shame you're too late to place a bet. You should give it a try tomorrow. It's totally 'armless, I swear. You can handle it. " He chuckles at his own joke and glances over to Rosie, who groans as if the terrible pun is causing her physical pain. His eyebrows draw together, clearly this man has no means of flirting beyond endless punnery.

"It's a pleasure," Rosie intones sarcastically. "Your sorry rear will fit right in with this fop, I'm sure." She elbows Conchobhar sharply and barks a laugh, disrupting his careful array of sweat-soaked silken shirts. "If I had my fiddle, I'd play you a clebratory jig." She intersperses her words with many creative curses, and looks rueful at the lack of said instrument.

https://i.imgur.com/HQtcIrH.png https://i.imgur.com/gSIWTzt.png

“Ah, there you are! I don’t suppose you have any cigarettes in the pot either, do you?” Dimitri can’t help but hold back a snort at Badger’s reckless gambling. Let him learn the rules before he starts to bluff.


[roll0]
[roll1]

Can I use bluff for anything?


He can’t help but grin at the winning hand, with. A smile as white as his hair. ”What did I tell you?”

[SirCatBeard]

”Hmmmm...and then he pits us all against each other. Are you thinking what I’m thinking?”

"Could be I am," Elim hedges, "but far too early: many seem to have adjusted."

[aReallyGreatAxe]

Syl seems to brush aside any further questions in the pursuit of dealing a right proper game.

Godfrey and Dmitri rake in the winnings this round, as does Badger- Godfrey, you notice that Badger appears to be counting cards, and doing a rather obvious job of it too.

As she reaches for her winnings, Syl's knife slams into the deck next to her palm, drawing the tiniest hair sliver of blood. "Next one to cheat gets it through the palm," she warns cheerily, counting the winnings out to Godfrey and Dmitri as Badger withdraws her hand and gets up, stammering something about having somewhere else to be.

"As for what to do with it..." Says Syl, ignoring Badger completely. "Could save it for port, yeah. could always spend it at Cut-throat Grok's. She's down in the hold, see. Daytime only. Has a little bit of everything."

Two additional rum rations and 5gp.


His rum ration


Sarra

"My fiddle...." Rosie sighs longingly. "Well, I've seen it in that Cut-throat Grok's shop." Rosie says, managing to somehow imply both that Grok's both half otyugh, and a valid target for the lichloved feat. "But she won't sell it to me; I might've called her a few choice words." She blinks up at you innocently, as if daring you to mention the 'choice words' sprinkled throughout her speech.

[Chimaera]

"I guess I'll get extra drunk tonight then", Godfrey grins and takes his prize.

Turning to Syl, he take the opportunity to chat a bit and know more about the ship's course.
"How long until we get to a port town though? I fear you'll have no gold left if it takes too long and you guys play like this every night", he brags about his skill and luck, "But rest assured that I wont take any more gold out of your pockets. Tonight, I mean", he get up and leave the tables as to avoid losing what he just gained: Luck is a fickle thing after all.

With an idea and a plan on his mind, he decide to head where the owlbear is kept.

"Does the owlbear have a name? I do thing there must be a very interesting tale on that nickname and the way you ended here", he ask the big chainned man and sip from his rum, "I hope you can tell me those. Are you thirsty?", he says and offer his glass of rum to the man, fully aware the chains wont let him drink it.

[SirCatBeard]

As she reaches for her winnings, Syl's knife slams into the deck next to her palm, drawing the tiniest hair sliver of blood. "Next one to cheat gets it through the palm," she warns cheerily, counting the winnings out to Godfrey and Dmitri as Badger withdraws her hand and gets up, stammering something about having somewhere else to be.

"As for what to do with it..." Says Syl, ignoring Badger completely. "Could save it for port, yeah. could always spend it at Cut-throat Grok's. She's down in the hold, see. Daytime only. Has a little bit of everything."

Elim frowns cheerfully at result "Ah, well, that's the way it goes sometimes. Refreshing to see someone perceptive enough to run a fair game, though."

[Table Flipper]

"My fiddle...." Rosie sighs longingly. "Well, I've seen it in that Cut-throat Grok's shop." Rosie says, managing to somehow imply both that Grok's both half otyugh, and a valid target for the lichloved feat. "But she won't sell it to me; I might've called her a few choice words." She blinks up at you innocently, as if daring you to mention the 'choice words' sprinkled throughout her speech.

Sarra stifles a laugh at Rosie's attempt at innocence. "That is quite a pickle. Ya think she'd sell it to me? From there mayhaps it finds its way back to you. Oh, but fiddlesticks, I'm so poor followin' my recent 'recruitment.'" Sarra looks off into space with feigned wistfulness.

[aReallyGreatAxe]

"I guess I'll get extra drunk tonight then", Godfrey grins and takes his prize.

Turning to Syl, he take the opportunity to chat a bit and know more about the ship's course.
"How long until we get to a port town though? I fear you'll have no gold left if it takes too long and you guys play like this every night", he brags about his skill and luck, "But rest assured that I wont take any more gold out of your pockets. Tonight, I mean", he get up and leave the tables as to avoid losing what he just gained: Luck is a fickle thing after all.

With an idea and a plan on his mind, he decide to head where the owlbear is kept.

"Does the owlbear have a name? I do thing there must be a very interesting tale on that nickname and the way you ended here", he ask the big chainned man and sip from his rum, "I hope you can tell me those. Are you thirsty?", he says and offer his glass of rum to the man, fully aware the chains wont let him drink it.

The Owlbear is curled up small against the stairs to cradle his wounds, or at least as small as such a large man can get. He looks up in some part of shock as someone actually attempts to have a conversation with him, and reaches wistfully for the glass of rum, only to be brought up short by the chains affixing his hands to the mast.

"I don't.... I don't remember," he says, after a moment. "He's always called me Owlbear."

"But I wasn't always here. I do remember that. I had a home. And a ma. Then I didn't." The big man actually starts to tear up before he swallows them down. "Why'd He take me, you think?"

Suddenly, a dawning light in his eyes: "Does He want me to fight you too?"


Sarra stifles a laugh at Rosie's attempt at innocence. "That is quite a pickle. Ya think she'd sell it to me? From there mayhaps it finds its way back to you. Oh, but fiddlesticks, I'm so poor followin' my recent 'recruitment.'" Sarra looks off into space with feigned wistfulness.

Rosie looks tellingly off to one side. "Well, if hypothetically, of course, someone were to get this fiddle for themselves, and then should just so happen to get tired of it and give it to their good friend Rosie... Your good friend who just so happened to give you a loan... But be careful. Grok's bark is worse than her bite, but it's her vile breath that's the worst of all."

[Chimaera]

"Here. Let me help", he says and bring the glass enough and even help the man drink it, "Not fighting me as far I'm aware. If it goes dfown to it just give a hard enough blow so that I can at least use it to fake being taken down with one hit".

He laughs but cut it short, as he dont wanjt to attract much attention to him talking.

"I was taken as well. I'm from the Ladies' Land. Do you remember where you from? And by he you say the captain or that Plugg guy?"

[Table Flipper]

Rosie looks tellingly off to one side. "Well, if hypothetically, of course, someone were to get this fiddle for themselves, and then should just so happen to get tired of it and give it to their good friend Rosie... Your good friend who just so happened to give you a loan... But be careful. Grok's bark is worse than her bite, but it's her vile breath that's the worst of all."

Sarra nods. "She open this late, or do I gotta wait 'til tomorrow? And anything distinctive 'bout yers? in case she got two of 'em?"

[CoffeeIncluded]

"Could be I am," Elim hedges, "but far too early: many seem to have adjusted."

”I didn’t say anything. Just a thought.”


Syl seems to brush aside any further questions in the pursuit of dealing a right proper game.

Godfrey and Dmitri rake in the winnings this round, as does Badger- Godfrey, you notice that Badger appears to be counting cards, and doing a rather obvious job of it too.

As she reaches for her winnings, Syl's knife slams into the deck next to her palm, drawing the tiniest hair sliver of blood. "Next one to cheat gets it through the palm," she warns cheerily, counting the winnings out to Godfrey and Dmitri as Badger withdraws her hand and gets up, stammering something about having somewhere else to be.

"As for what to do with it..." Says Syl, ignoring Badger completely. "Could save it for port, yeah. could always spend it at Cut-throat Grok's. She's down in the hold, see. Daytime only. Has a little bit of everything."

Two additional rum rations and 5gp.


His rum ration


Sarra

"My fiddle...." Rosie sighs longingly. "Well, I've seen it in that Cut-throat Grok's shop." Rosie says, managing to somehow imply both that Grok's both half otyugh, and a valid target for the lichloved feat. "But she won't sell it to me; I might've called her a few choice words." She blinks up at you innocently, as if daring you to mention the 'choice words' sprinkled throughout her speech.

“Good game,” Dimitri says, slightly calmer for the first time since waking up here. The energy of a good table always managed to ground him. “Are there cigarettes in the shop or up for trade? And how did you all end up here in the first place?”