Ghostfoot's Savage Tide (IC) Pt 2

[Cavir]

Lora says her farewell to Skald. "Sorry to hear that. I doubt your archery skill will be tested much here. Best of luck and may Bahamut guide your way."

With the ships shoving off, the dragonborn gets a look at Surtros' crafting achievements. "Impressive!" Better prepared to face our enemies, and looking even more like the heroes we are!" She takes a closer look at Tchinik's new armor. She was amazed at the idea and efforts, while itching for the group to face new dangers to be worthy of adding to the armor.

The docks cleared, Lora takes to the skies, spiraling upward then landing on the top of the main mast. She gazes on the town from up high, then turns and looks out to the sea ahead of them.

[Ghostfoot]

The two ships plow through the sea, the island kingdom of Nimbral fading into the distance to the north as the twin vessels forge their way southward. Before too long you are in open ocean all sight of land having faded away. All about is the vast expanse of blue green water punctuated only by your sister ship the Blue Nixie and a pod of curious porpoises that dart and dance about the hulls.

Life continues without incident for several days. Captain Amella runs a tight ship and the crew quickly fall back into their well-practised routines after their time ashore. Urol keeps largely to himself scrawling notes and sketching his latest collection of bugs and beetles from Nimbral. Indo too is hardly seen as he works his way through a fresh collection of wines purchased on the island. The rest of you help out or keep out of the way as you all head further and further south away from civilisation.

One evening as you share a meal you feel a discernible shift in the creaking rolling movement of the ship. Captain Amella pops her head in a short time later "Storm's coming. It's going to hit pretty hard. Best you find somewhere safe to wait it out." Crew rush about preparing for the coming chaos as the winds begin to whip about and the waves increase to small hills. The Sea Wyvern and the Blue Nixie move farther apart so as to avoid any chance of collision in the storm. The winds and seas intensify and for many hours you are tossed about, thankful only that the Blue Nixie seems sturdy and large enough to withstand complete disintegration. Shattering and curses from Indo indicates that his remaining wines are not so lucky and his horse whinnies in terror from it's place in the hold.

The next morning the worst has past. The skies are grey but the winds and waves are much calmer. Captain Amella stands next to the helmsman taking bearings. "We're still on course" she states matter-of-factly. It's only then that you gaze about and notice that the Blue Nixie is nowhere to be seen.

[Kelvin360]

Though multitalented for a merchant, Surtros discerns he is better served out of the way than trying to help steer the ship through the storm. Throughout the worst of it, her prays fervently for Tymora to guide them to safer waters, and when the wind and rain began to die down, he was almost certain his prayers had been answered.

Until he noticed something...out of place.

"It's always something. Captain, I might be able to give us a general course toward the Nixie with the proper prayers later tonight, assuming the ship is not warded from simple divinations. If it is, or it is too far away..." He doesn't finish the thought, not that he has to.

[Cavir]

As the word gets out about the Blue Nixie, Lora quickly climbs the mast for the best view aboard the ship. With a crew mate already up there doing the same, she scans the horizon in all directions then takes to the air for the view from a different vantage. She gets some added height then glides a lot while scanning, trying to keep her wings from getting tired out quickly. She spirals outward around the ship, keeping it always in sight.

[razorback]

Tchinik, unlike the others, doesn't fare the storm well. He spends part of it tied to a beam with a bucket near by, his face green, as the to and fro motion takes its toll on his last meal.
Once the storm subsides, he falls to his pallet and tries to sleep, body still in turmoil. Head pounding, he tries to keep as steady as possible as he hears a commotion above deck. As it gets louder, he realizes that he isn't going to be able to sleep it off and rises, a bit unsteadily at first, as he makes his way up just in time to see Lora take flight.
Getting a sense of what is going on, he shakes his head as he leans against the railing. "How long was the storm. I completely lost track of time." he asks no one in particular.

[DrK]

Connaught

Connaught stands on deck after the storm has cleared. Salt crusted in his beard as the wind and waves had flogged him mercilessly. He wrapped his hands around the flask of rum and took a deep gulp, the liquid burning his throat. His hands were red raw and blistered from where he'd been pulling on the ropes and sails during the long night of the storm. Looking about he listen's the cry of the crow's nest. "Gods damn it. Waukeen's luck on them I hope the Nixie has not been loss. A bugger if it has."

He looks towards Amiyah, Surtros and Lara. "Anything from the sky there our winged friend? And what about the pair of you? ANy magics that could help ascertain if the Nixie has been lost or not?" Looking into the distance he just points. "Aye, best we continue to sail the course that was laid out for us. If the gods smile upon them they'll meet us at the next landfall." He strides down the decks towards the Captain. "Cap'n. What's the plan then, you happy that we can be doing a good job and keep to the charts that Miss Lavinia laid out for us."

[Ghostfoot]

As the crew set about repairing the minor damage and continuing to sail the vessel, the rest of the passengers emerge. Indo & his manservants, Lirith and Urol all looking a little worse for wear as they feebly clutch the railings next to Tchinik.

Lora takes to the skies, searching the horizons for any sign of the Blue Nixie. There is none. Just a wide
expanse of open water for as far as you can make out.

Captain Amella turns to Connaught and fixes him with her no-nonsense look. "Aye, if there's no sign of them we carry on. The Lady's instructions are to press on to Farshore on the Isle and rendezvous there, if they're even still afloat. We carry on."

Spoiler: Next

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Did Surtros have a cunning plan that you'd like to consider? Otherwise I'll push on...

[DrK]

Connaught

The barbarian looks at the noble with a grim smile and mutters to his friends. "With Lavinia away any chance you think we could push those ones overboard eh?" Louder he nods at the Captain. "Sounds good Captain. Aye feel like we'll have adventure and loot to share eh lads!" Happy he wanders around the deck, axe in hand swinging it happily as he runs through a few basic drills to keep his skills sharp.

[razorback]

"You're the captain and your orders stand, but I agree. Separated in the storm, the best tack is to keep on and meet up later. Not much we can do to track them down amongst this great expanse of water. With trusty navigators, we shall meet at the chosen point." At Connaught comment, he eyes Indo with a wicked grin. "I would keep your comments to yourself. It's pretty hard to swim to shore when you can't see it. Even harder to do it after someone throws your horse on you." he says with this back to the man as he walks away, albeit a bit unsteadily.

[Cavir]

The winged dragonborn uses the winds to stay aloft while circling occasionally letting out a burst of flame in case the other ship can see it. Eventually she glides down to the ship's deck. She shakes her head somberly. If no other ideas come up she heads to the bow and spreads her wings, feeling the wind pass over them as the ship continues on.

[Kelvin360]

Surtros expected as much, but it hardly set him at ease. He leaned against a mast and watched Connaught perform his drills as he thought through the situation. He felt a certain surety that the gods hadn't forsaken them just yet, but would that protection apply to the Nixie? In the worst case scenario, what other alliances would they need to secure in order to bridge the gap Lavinia would leave behind? There was an ill wind in the air, that much was certain, and something seemed liable to give soon. If he hazarded a guess, it would involve cabin fever and Indo, which would be a shame not because he was useful (yet) but because the only thing with fewer uses was a noble corpse. He'd have to keep a closer eye on the crew to make sure no rash measures were taken. He'd memorize an extra hold person and tie the little runt up in the belowdecks himself if he had to. For his own safety, of course.

Strange. Such uncertainties never bothered him before. And, in a way, the fact that he had something to worry about was quite comforting on its own.

[Ghostfoot]

Eager as you are to locate the Blue Nixie there is no sign of the vessel or the crew. Reluctantly Captain Amella orders the Sea Wyvern to continue on it's course south across the open ocean to the arranged rendezvous Isle of Dread. Several days pass and despite your best endeavors there has been no further evidence of the fate of Lady Lavinia and her ship in the wide expanse of overcast ocean.

As the grey dawn breaks on the fifth morning, burning fitfully through the monring fog to light the sea, something seems strange about the waters below. They seem almost solid, as if the sea had formed some strange sort of skin. The air seem dead as well, and the sails hang limp, Heavy with moisture from the receding fog.

Finally, the mist begins to clear, and what is unveiled is not the gently rolling vista of the sea but a wet green field of weed. The swath of dirty green stretches flatly in all directions. To the stern it extends for perhaps half a mile, beyond which lie the open waters of the mocking sea. In all other directions the weed extends to the horizon. Trapped within its vice are dozens of other long-dead ships, their hulls protruding from the sargasso at odd angles, masts askew, sails hanging in tatters. One such ship lies only six hundred feet to the port, and it seems to be in better shape than the others. Perhaps most unnerving though is neither the sight nor smells of of so much sun-baked seaweed. It is the unnatural silence, for the thick choking green has robbed the Sea Wyvern even of the strangely comforting sound of water lapping against her hull. It is not healthy silence. It is the silence of a graveyard.

Spoiler: Knowledge check - Tchinik

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The swath of seaweed is a sargasso, a treacherous patch of vegetation often driven by storms only to collection regions of the ocean that even the winds and current seem to fear. Sailor's speak of "Journey's End" and talk of it in hushed tones - rumours of a living island that appears from the mists after a storm. This living land is said to have a back soul that fuels the hunger of the creatures rumored to live within its green embrace.

Journey's End is one of the seas more terrible blights, and is said to be able to crush ships in it's grip. Its children are awful creatures formed of the weed itself, and are said to rise by night to slake their hunger upon any their green mother has caught in her grasp.

[DrK]

Connaught

the barbarian looks down at the massed piles of weeds and looks at the others. "Aye lads. It don't look good does it." Climbing the mast a little he looks down at the mass of weed and leaves. "Captain. does it burn Captain? Or do we cut our way out." Embracing the sea spirit that he has been binding for so long he vaults lightly off the deck landing with a light splash on the water, his axe pulled out and prodding at the thick weeds relying on the power of Euroynome to keep himself afloat on the weeds. The cold iron hammer not useful against the mass of weeds.

[Ghostfoot]

Landing on the heavy mat of seaweed with a damp squelch Connaught finds it relatively solid. Salty water pools about his ankles but he can move about without too much difficulty.

Spoiler: movement mechanics

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The sargasso counts as difficult terrain so 2x movement cost, no charging, and +5 DC to tumble checks.

[razorback]

Tchinik looks at the patch for a few moments, dread creeping into his mind as he recalls the stories told by sailors, both drunk and stone-cold sober.
Gather the others, speaks in a low voice as to not disturb the others.
"This seaweed stuff is called Sargasso, a treacherous patch of vegetation often driven by storms only to collection regions of the ocean that even the winds and current seem to fear. Journey's End, from what I've heard of tales and rumors, is something like a living island with the black soul of a demon. Strange creatures live upon it, feeding off everything they can get their hands on. If this be Journey's End, it is a terrible thing to come across. It is said to be able to crush ships in its grip and I fear for Blue Nixie and her crew. If they were caught, the island is said to turn it's victims into some dark creature made of the seaweed itself, feeding off anything they can catch and drawing it into the green maw of the island itself, only increasing its numbers. We have much to fear if this is what we have stumbled across. If the Blue Nixie has been caught, it's crew has succumbed to the dark powers the inhabit this blight upon the sea. Any of our former friends, if seen, cannot be counted upon." he says with dread in his voice.

[Cavir]

Lora joins everyone else on board looking outwards. Connaught jumps down to the seaweed. She calls out to him. "Connaught, is that your gift to walk on water or is it that firm down there? Fire is a good question."

The dragonborn leans over the ship railings and breaths a blast of fire into the seaweed away from Connaught and anything flammable related to the ship.

Spoiler: OOC

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Holy loot jackpot Batman! All those ships abandoned in place.

Fire Aura on. 30' fire blast.
(3d8)[15] Fire

[Kelvin360]

"I damned should have prayed for damned Remove damned Curse, shouldn't I." Surtros draws a bag of powdered silver from his belt and calls down to Connaught. "Connaught! I'd as soon ward your mind from possession and control before you venture too far, if you're going to be scouting this place forward."

[DrK]

Connaught

The barbarian nods to Sutros coming back to the side of the ship. Euronyme's Hammer appearing his grasp as he does so. "Who wants to come with e and investigate that nearby boat? The one that doesn't look to rotten.
Maybe a clue or some ideas there that could free us from this vile filth?" Looking back up on deck he calls to his "woman". "Can you climb up to the crow's nest. See if you can see anything interesting looking within sight of here."

Spitting at the sea weed he shakes his shaggy head. Tchinik spoke true. This place has the feel of a dark and cursed thing. We must be careful."

[Kelvin360]

Surtros moves in a circle around the barbarian, splashing silver at his feet as he moves. "Parables 2:18 - The choice made freely is holy. The choice forced unjustly is anathema." A shimmering golden barrier flashes to life around Connaught, then fades into an almost-imperceptible mirage as it sets to work defending his mind and body from intrusion for the next six minutes. "I may as well go. If someone needs healing it'll be there and not here. And when we inevitably somehow stumble upon a vast treasure trove I'll be on hand to tell you its market value."

[Ghostfoot]

Lora leans over and breathes a blast of fire at the surrounding weed. The damp morass of seaweed bubbles and pops under the intense flames, but observing afresh any damage seems superficial. In fact, you wonder if the weed may have subtly increased its hold over the Sea Wyvern as you were distracted, the ropy strands not quite growing before your eyes but almost seeming so.

Lirrith clambers up to the crows nest and surveys the scene. After a few moments she shouts down "It clogs the waters east as far as I can see. Lot's of wrecks. This here heap of timber is the only big one close by."

Driven by curiosity you prepare yourselves and make for the nearby wreck accompanied by Lirith. Strange currents swirl in the puddles around your feet and the feeling of walking is quite disorienting as if the fronds of the weed itself were stirring. Nearing the wreck you see it is strangled with weeds and vines, almost as if immense green claws hold the ship in their grasp. In many places the caravel, a ship hauntingly similar to the Sea Wyvern, has been torn apart by the vegetation's rampant growth. A plate near the stern gives the vessel's name - Rage.

[Cavir]

Lora eyes the area she blasted with disappointment. "Fire on that stuff is a bad idea. Looks like it thrives on heat. I'll try freezing cold on it away from the ship. I wouldn't want to be walking on it that much. Someone drag Urol out here. Hopefully he'll have more insight since this is the kind of thing he likes."

The dragonborn climbs the main mast and scans all around. Perhaps her dragon enhanced sight along with her flying goggles will find something more. She then jumps off, soaring above Connaught and Lirith towards the next closer ship. As she nears the Rage, she calls out form above "AHOY!"

[razorback]

Tchinik, deeply unsettled by both the rumors and the encounter with the flora, walks gingerly with his spear out in front of him.
"Alright, Connaught, I'm with you. Let us be about this quickly. Maybe we can find some survivors with a bit of information that might help... or some loot. Either way, quickly is better in my opinion." he says with a grimace on his face.

[Kelvin360]

"And to think we might have used a druid of all things," Surtros remarked, his face twisting into a deeper grimace with every soggy step he took in his plated boots. Uncertain of what they may find, he keeps to the back, but very close to the rest of them. Should the worst come to pass, a quick healing spell or resurgence might be necessary.

[DrK]

Connaught

Emboldened by the blessings from his friends the barbarian leaps onto the rage and pauses, a massive cold iron hammer appearing from nowhere within his hand as he embraces Euorynme's gift. His feet and hands leaving damp patches over the deck as he climbs aboard. He stamps on the deck a few times to make sure its not too rotten before striding towards the stern castle where he thinks the Captain's cabin must have been,

[Ghostfoot]

Urol is indeed found with a collection of jars of sargasso weed. Intently studying the slimy stuff he mutters "Yes yes. I sure am looking at it. Fascinating, really. It's alive and constantly growing at infinitesimal pace. See if you can bring back any more samples from your investigations." He settles himself down again evidently not going anywhere for the time being as he experiments.

Circling the Rage Lora cries out but only silence answers her. Connaught is first aboard, the decks wreathed in slippery seaweed and swathes of thick green mucus. The timbers are rotted and squelch nastily underfoot. Smashed gear lies about the wrecked deck and amid the weed and detritus you note signs of combat - large patches of dried blood, a broken rapier blade wedged in the mast, smashed barricades. An upturned cauldron still has a small pool of oil within and littering the deck about it are several dozen burnt-out torches.

Doors lead down below deck. You can see from here that they have been barred but that nevertheless they are smashed and breached. A broken ballista peeks out of the gap. Alternatively a large hole has been smashed through the hull on the far side and also leads below decks.

[razorback]

Tchinik, following Connaught lead, makes his way to the top deck. As the huge northerner makes his way to the rear, Tchinik circles to the right, spear out, as he looks for any sign of life.
Seeing the blood splats, he keeps his eyes keen as he moves around, motioning to the others to take the other side of the ship as he moves quietly.

[DrK]

Connaught looks over at Tchinik nodding, "Well spotted. Anyone got some light to toss in ahead of me?" once some light is ready he looks in and leaps through the gash in the hull, axe ready to chop anything that leaps out at him.

[Kelvin360]

"Well seeing as it can be unsummoned, and you won't be sneaking about anytime soon..." Surtros taps the head of Connaught's massive hammer, invoking a golden, torchlike glow into the object, and then standing back to let the luminescent barbarian take the lead.

[Cavir]

Lora lands on a lower spar. Activating her magic insight she looks downward, possibly sensing magic in the decks below. "Hold up." She steps off the spar and glides down to the deck with the others. "The darkness doesn't bother my sight. I'll go first."

The dragonborn steps up to the breached door and peers inside with both her darkvision and magic insight. If no apparent threat, she steps through.

Spoiler: OOC

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Any results from magic insight?
Spot (1d20+14)[30]

[Ghostfoot]

Lora scans the area but detects no magical auras. Stepping through the broken doorway she descends a brief stairway to the quarters below followed by Connaught, and the others. A few items of smashed furniture are strewn about the room, and light spills in from the large hole in the hull that you had already observed from outside. The tilted floor creaks and groans occasionally as the sargasso bed outside undulates slightly, but other than that gently noise there is silence.

"What d'ya think happened to everyone?" mutters Lirith nervously, clutching her falchion.

Across the room is another doorway, open. Inside you can see a better furnished cabin, perhaps that of the captain. An old journal or notebook is visible resting on a table within.