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  1. - Top - End - #1
    Barbarian in the Playground
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    Default [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    OOC here

    In this, our tale, we discover if our heroes will find their fortune or their doom in the...

    Ruins of Azlant


    The Bountiful Venture Company, in cooperation with the People's Council of Andoran, has established a colony on the small island of Ancorato in the Arcadian Ocean. Many people applied to join the colony, but only a small number of those with the right mix of skills could be accepted. A few days after their interviews at the company's warehouse headquarters in Almas, those that were chosen received a letter via courier indicating that they were selected to help establish the new colony far across the seas.

    Six individuals among those chosen will be the focus of this tale. These are the letters they received:

    Spoiler: Bumbler
    Show

    Ms. Bumbler Up Home

    It is our pleasure to confirm you as a member of the Second Expedition to the Federated Colony of Talmandor's Bounty. Congratulations!

    Your primary role is as a hunter and fisher. In that role, please work with Anya Sandstrider. It is our hope that together you will tame the beasts of Ancorato and provide sustenance for the benefit of the colony.

    Please submit a list of items you intend to bring with you on the journey so that space and weight can be accounted for on the ship. Your ship, the Peregrine, departs on the 1st of Serenith.

    Good luck, colonist!


    Spoiler: Hasruk
    Show

    Mr. Hasruk (no surname provided)

    It is our pleasure to confirm you as a member of the Second Expedition to the Federated Colony of Talmandor's Bounty. Congratulations!

    Your special skills will be appreciated in the burgeoning colony. Due to your wealth of skills, I give you a choice as to whom you shall assist. If you wish to serve the colony in the role of a hunter and fisher, I would ask that you work with Anya Sandstrider and Bumbler Up Home. Should you prefer to help explore and map the surrounding areas, I would ask that you assist Lyra Heatherly with her surveys around the colony to determine where best to expand the farms of the colony.

    Please inform Ramona Avandth - the colony's new leader, also aboard the Peregrine on your journey - as to you decision of which role you wish to serve in the new colony.

    Please submit a list of items you intend to bring with you on the journey so that space and weight can be accounted for on the ship. Your ship, the Peregrine, departs on the 1st of Serenith.

    Good luck, colonist!


    Spoiler: Kaylah
    Show

    Ms. Kaylah Pistrah

    It is our pleasure to confirm you as a member of the Second Expedition to the Federated Colony of Talmandor's Bounty. Congratulations!

    The colony was chosen for its relatively safe position, but having someone who can help defend it will be a great boon for the colony. You will report to Ramona Avandth, the colony's leader. Please get to know her on your journey out and make sure she is familiar with your particular skill set and she will in turn provide you with further instruction.

    Please submit a list of items you intend to bring with you on the journey so that space and weight can be accounted for on the ship. Your ship, the Peregrine, departs on the 1st of Serenith.

    Good luck, colonist!


    Spoiler: Coster
    Show

    Dr. Coster Trent

    It is our pleasure to confirm you as a member of the Second Expedition to the Federated Colony of Talmandor's Bounty. Congratulations!

    Your special skills will be appreciated in the burgeoning colony. Due to your wealth of skills and knowledge, I am pleased to offer you the choice of task that you will perform in the colony. Should you wish to assist with the magical and alchemical concerns of the colony, I suggest you seek out Alba Divenvaar. She is a noted alchemist and shall be providing potions, tinctures and handling of magical concerns for the colony.

    Alternatively, should you wish to serve the colony as a scholar and researcher, I would ask you to seek out Perrel Beys. She is an accomplished scholar and explorer that will be providing cartography and cataloging the many undoubted ruins and artifacts of the past.

    Please inform Ramona Avandth - the colony's new leader, also aboard the Peregrine on your journey - as to you decision of which role you wish to serve in the new colony.

    Please submit a list of items you intend to bring with you on the journey so that space and weight can be accounted for on the ship. Your ship, the Peregrine, departs on the 1st of Serenith.

    Good luck, colonist!


    Spoiler: Jessica
    Show

    Ms. Jessica Cooper

    It is our pleasure to confirm you as a member of the Second Expedition to the Federated Colony of Talmandor's Bounty. Congratulations!

    The colony will undoubtedly undergo many hardships in the coming years and will need the wisdom and magics of its divine servants. To that end, I would suggest you seek out Eamon Caranth and Kurvis Nurpico, both fellow servants of the divine - in this case, Erastil and Abadar respectively. Together, you and they shall assuredly bring healing, moral guidance and wisdom to the new colony.

    Please submit a list of items you intend to bring with you on the journey so that space and weight can be accounted for on the ship. Your ship, the Peregrine, departs on the 1st of Serenith.

    Good luck, colonist!


    Spoiler: Jimbei
    Show

    Mr. Jimbei (no surname provided)

    It is our pleasure to confirm you as a member of the Second Expedition to the Federated Colony of Talmandor's Bounty. Congratulations!

    Your primary role is as a hunter and fisher. In that role, please work with Anya Sandstrider as your primary contact as well as the undine named Bumbler Up Home. It is our hope that together you will tame the beasts of Ancorato and provide sustenance for the benefit of the colony.

    Please submit a list of items you intend to bring with you on the journey so that space and weight can be accounted for on the ship. Your ship, the Peregrine, departs on the 1st of Serenith.

    Good luck, colonist!


    1 Serenith 4718


    As dawn breaks on the 1st day of Sarenith in the year AR 4717, the chosen members of the Second Colonial Expedition to Talmandor's Bounty embark onto the Peregrine to start the six week journey to Ancorato. The weather is pleasant and the winds are favorable. The decks of the three-masted ship are busy as the new colonists explore their new home for next six weeks and the sailors and crew manage the sails and cargo while the ship slips out of the Andoshen River and into the Inner Sea.

    Spoiler: OOC
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    At this point, just introduce your character's reaction to receiving the letter and his/her description while they board the ship and get underway. Then, I'll have more information about the NPCs as you meet them and get to know them aboard the ship. Welcome to Ruins of Azlant! I look forward to seeing how this all plays out!
    Last edited by CleverDragon; 2018-03-06 at 03:28 PM.
    Carrion Crown: Dice | IC-2 | Doc
    Ruins of Azlant: OOC | IC | Doc
    ~~~~~
    Calathon - Mummy's Mask

  2. - Top - End - #2
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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    Why me?

    Kaylah asks herself this question every day. As the big woman holds the letter in her hands and puzzles over the scratches on the parchment, she sighs. A part of her was honestly hoping not to get chosen for this, despite it being her idea to apply in the first place. A six-week voyage to a village at the a*s end of nowhere?

    Still, better to get out of Andoran. Too many enemies.

    Probably best for everyone if I were to just... disappear.

    The idea of walking away from her old life and into a new one is mighty appealing. And yet she frowns back down at the letter delivered to her inn this morning. She shouldn't have told that woman conducting the interview about her experience with a blade. It would've been a whole lot easier if she could just be a simple fisher-woman again.

    But Kaylah Pistra is many things, and never a liar.

    Standing on the crowded city wharf, the big woman allows the tide of people to break on her like a rock. There's something satisfying about being the thing in somebody else's way. The scowls she get remind her of who she is, help her think clearly.

    From the perspective of those on the dock, she's just another poor adventurer for hire. Her cloth is certainly poor enough to look it. She keeps her hood up and her cloak long, to obscure her from the many knives always coming her way. And yet, as Kaylah starts to walk up the gangplank of the Peregrine, a small wind kicks up around her ragged cloak, sending it flying from her shoulders and revealing her full frame.

    At nearly six feet tall, Kaylah looks like the kind of person one might see in a pit fight or the front lines of a night ambush. Her broad, well-defined muscles are plainly noticeable beneath her boiled hide armor, and she carries an entire bandolier of knives across her chest. A wind-tousled head of cropped dark hair hangs loose around her shoulders, framing a heart-shaped, admittedly roughly handsome face.

    And then there's the matter of the four foot long length of steel she keeps sheathed over her shoulder. The greatsword is not special in any way that counts, but a big enough blade has been enough to solve most of her problems in the past.

    Create many more too, by anyone's count.

    Shaking her head, Kaylah looks after the cloak as it is carried by the wind and into the water near the ship. Cursing her poor luck, the warrior steps on board the three-masted sailing ship with little fanfare.

    "Kaylah Pistra, reporting in," she says with a forced smile to whoever is nearby, heedless of whether they're the person she ought to be seeing. This expedition's got the place right crowded, but she's sure that she'll meet this 'Advanth' eventually. Bosses got a tendency of showing themselves, one way or the other. "Only got what I'm carrying on me, dunno how much it weighs. I'm not taking it all off for you, any case. Sorry. Could you point me to my cabin?"
    Last edited by 3SecondCultist; 2018-01-20 at 10:30 AM.
    Spoiler: My Profile
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    Quote Originally Posted by Zeno Desaqqara View Post
    You divine bastard.
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  3. - Top - End - #3
    Ogre in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    Then

    “I was thinking white.”

    “Hm?” Coster looked up from the letter. He had just finished reading it for the thirty-seventh time. It seemed another choice was in front of him. The stone was, as usual, orbiting his head.

    “For the baby, I was thinking white for her room.”

    “It could be a boy you known.” Coster smiled, comfortably. He was unconcerned with the gender of the child. His child. Boy or girl he would love them just as much. He got up from his chair and moved to Eleanor, lying down next to her.

    “Ah, so you’re a diviner now hm?” Her voice was nice. Coster committed its pitch to memory, along with her facial features, so that he might draw strength from should he ever feel alone.

    “Non-practicing.” Her smile grew bigger and Coster was glad for it. He had read that negative feelings could impact gestating children in a less than positive manner. The trick would be maintaining that sort of happiness, but Coster had no doubt they could do it. No doubt she could do it. “Ahhhh, is that so? You’ll just have to transmute a suitable paradise for me when I arrive, I suppose.” She paused to touch the tip of his nose with her pointer finger. “And your daughter.” Eleanor rolled over, facing him. Her belly was sloping down so Coster reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a blanket she could prop herself up with.

    The stone had completed another lazy orbit around his head while he was up. By the time he got back to the bed, it was sitting still. In between them. He’d no idea how to respond to what Eleanor had said. A masters and doctorate in transmutation and he still didn’t know how to respond to compliments. Even so the silence they shared was a comfortable one.

    He pinched at her hair with a thumb and forefinger, trailed it along the hair to the bottom. There was still so much to do and so little time for it.

    “Will you be there? At the ship I mean.”

    “Of course. We both will be.”

    Now

    Coster emerged from the lower deck, rather flushed with the effort of having dragged his chest into the holds. His father had insisted on having men take it down instead but Coster had quickly quashed the idea. If he was going to participate in this venture than he would do the same work as everyone else. It was only right.

    Besides, the view of Eleanor alone was worth it. More than any historical antic dote or famous figure. She was on the deck near the gangplank, making sure to stay out of the way of anyone’s way.

    “I’ve informed the Captain and Ms. Avandth that you’re an academic and that you’ll try to help in any way possible.”

    "Ah so you’ve warned them then?"

    “It seemed only fair. Besides, he seemed quite tickled about the idea of having a good man on board.”

    Coster looked back to the hustle and bustle of the ship and was rewarded with a view of the stone as it made another elliptical around his cranium. Home for the next six weeks. Then an entirely new home. He tired of looking at the ship and surroundings and so turned back to Eleanor. Another silence had settled upon them, though this one was less jovial. Coster was suddenly struck by a bout of loneliness. Eleanor must have seen it on his face, for she cupped it with a hand.

    “Husband. Your bringing civilization to another world. Do not despair.”

    Coster smiled in spite of himself. He rested his forehead against hers and took her hand in his. “I feel stupid. I’ve got all these things I want to say to you but only minutes to say them.” Eleanor took his hand and clasped it between her own. She placed all three hands on her belly while her free one went to cup his face. Coster noted it was the hand with her wedding ring on it. “That’s all the time you’ve ever needed”

    Coster’s grip slackened and he smiled. He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when she disentangled herself.

    “I love you.”

    “I love you. Think of some names for our child, Husband. I’m looking forward to reading them.” Then she was gone down the gangplank and Coster felt mildly alone again. Perhaps an Azlanti name. It would be appropriate, given the place of the child's birth. His posture sagged a little bit. A noticeable bit. Then Coster cast the thoughts to the fringes of his mind, where it could hurt him less. There was a cartographer to be found.
    Last edited by n0ble; 2018-01-20 at 01:45 PM.
    “Have no fear, you will find your way. It's in your bones. It's in your soul.”- Mark Z. Danieleweski, House of Leaves

  4. - Top - End - #4
    Ettin in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    The burly half-orc who shows up to the Peregregrine's gangway in the early Sarenith morning doesn't go unnoticed. Tattoos seem to cover this entire body, showing an astonishing variety of ocean creatures, not all of them natural, most of them ferocious, all represented with great precision. The greenish skin of his face, weathered by a life at sea, bears a number of scars, and his brutish features include especially protruding teeth, with filed, serrated edges in the tradition of certain orc tribes. Clad in a simple, clean if well-worn sailor's outfit with low boots and a tawny-colored bandana, he introduces himself in a curt, gruff tone.

    "Hasruk. Been hired to join the colony."

    Just at this point, a bulky, orange-brown, thick-skinned creature shows its head in the harbor's water next to the ship. It is about the length of a man, and likely twice the weight or more. On its face, two enormous tusks and what looks like a coarse mustache are prominent features. With surprising speed, it swims towards the quay and jumps out of the water, awkwardly landing at the half-orc's feet.

    "'Tis Whiskers. He'll come along with me."

    Dragging his heavy sea chest behind him, he comes on board the Peregrine without further ado, followed by the walrus dragging himself on his flippers in slow, noisy, wet half-jumps up the gangway.

    Spoiler
    Show
    Once he gets his bearings on board, Hasruk will inquire about Ramona Avandth, introduce himself and request a position as an explorer with Lyra Heatherly.

    During the sea voyage, he'll check the direction of the boat several times per day, and provide a daily weather forecast to Ramona. He'll arrange for Whiskers to spend some hours in the water daily, but he'll have him hauled on board for the night.

    The character sheet isn't quite finished, but includes the full equipment list, which he'll submit to Ramona as requested.
    Links: Hasruk and Whiskers.
    Last edited by Gwynfrid; 2018-02-22 at 10:46 PM.

  5. - Top - End - #5
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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    Bumbler arrives at the docks early, a heavily crumpled letter flaring out from where it's been half-stuffed into a dagger sheath at her belt, her face half-covered by a bit of black cloth that's noticeably better quality material than anything else she's wearing. Unless one counts her weapons, or armor, which are both of unremarkable but solid make. Bumbler doesn't actually stick out from the crowd that much - a backpack-wearing, summer-clad and light-armored woman with a bit of cloth over face isn't the most unusual thing on the docks. While clearly armed, Bumbler doesn't project any kind of aura of menace; she alternates between skipping and walking, often suddenly changing direction, hopping on one foot, to avoid running into someone whenever the way grows thick with people. Her eyes are wide open the entire way, an air of excitement around her that's been there ever since she opened the letter earlier in the morning, not even dropping when she she had to hand over her literal last copper piece to the innkeeper to use a bit of ink for her notes on said letter.

    Upon reaching the Peregrine, she readies her letter, revealing an illegible scrawl of black ink looping around it, a single relatively clean bit of text sitting somewhere beneath the trail of what seem more like a dying man's attempts to scribble the name of his killer than proper handwriting. weighhgtt III 18 20, it reads. Bumbler looks it over three times before making her final boarding of the gangplank, clapping after the third time (this further worsens the state the already-roughed-up letter is in).

    Gleefully presenting the letter to anyone who seems to be approaching, Bumbler boards the ship and quickly shifts the letter from her right hand to her left. After a brief pause, she brings her right hand up and tugs on her braid lightly, looking around the ship and at the harbor visible from it, stepping only a short distance from the gangplank and not moving until someone approaches. Bumbler turns, grinning beneath her face-hiding cloth as a notably taller woman steps up and speaks to her. Only the woman's introduction keeps her immediate comment on her muscles from being spoken. "Bumbler Up Home," she replies quickly to the woman's name, unable to suppress a laugh as she continues. "Heh! That would just be silly! Like having a sword right under your stove, just - not a good recipe, no way," she says. "I'd'nt've said that if I had it. The, the one, the answer - to you. For, yeah, for the cabin," she continues with a nod. "I'm for the fish."
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  6. - Top - End - #6
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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    When first boarding the Peregrine, Kaylah's attention was largely on the docks. But as soon as the woman next to her laughs and introduces herself, she turns and affixes her with her full attention. It occurs to Kaylah belatedly that she probably should be watching from threats in all directions. This 'Bumbler' could pull one of her many knives on her. For all that, Kaylah nods approvingly at the small armory of blades.

    You can never have too many of 'em, after all.

    A few seconds later, Kaylah starts actually putting the noises that her crewmate is putting together. Or wait, no. There's the corner of a letter, same paper she got. This one must be a colonist like her.

    That's when she figures out that the words Bumbler is saying don't make sense. Well, they do, but they aren't in the right order. Or something. She's never been one for long speeches either, but at least she can talk with most folk. Kaylah screws up her face trying to put together the meaning of that last bit.

    "I... er. What? You going to swim?"

    As she talks, Kaylah makes a concerted effort to subtly walk beneath the shadows of the sails. Wouldn't want to scare off these people in the first minute of knowing 'em.

    Spoiler: OOC
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    I actually forgot to mention it during my first post, but anyone who succeeds at a DC 15 Wisdom check (not Perception) will notice that Kaylah's shadow is actually that of a monstrous shark. I'm hoping to save this detail for when it becomes pertinent to the story, so Kaylah is going to try to stick to shaded areas and be out on deck mostly at night.
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    Quote Originally Posted by Zeno Desaqqara View Post
    You divine bastard.
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    "The philosophers have only interpreted the world in various ways; the point is to change it."

  7. - Top - End - #7
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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    Bumbler laughs again. If this is what all of the people on the ship are like, she thinks, then this will be a very enjoyable colonization. "I could! But, not now," she says, following Kaylah. "Same way it'd be rude to, pop in and then just say, you know, boom-pow, and then you hop on out, with the stew..." she pulls down the cloth in front of her face and smiles. "But I'd love to, later! Do you swim? You've got - your muscles, they're great. Can I poke them?" She asks, raising one index finger which she proceeds to wiggle, as if it's a worm inching along in the air.

    Spoiler: OOC
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    I doubt Bumbler would react to it even if she spotted it, but: (1d20+2)[16]

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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    Jessica is up early on the 1st of Sarenith, meticulously brushing her long raven hair. It flows in silky locks to about her shoulder blades, clearly maintained with a certain degree of deliberation. With a grimace, she notes the hints of dark circles beneath her eyes- she was much too excited to sleep much last night. For what seems like the 100th time, she wonders what made the company pick her- such an obvious city girl. With a happy shrug, she dabs a small amount of powder onto her face- it simply wouldn't do for the others to think she was another frumpy adventurer!

    Dressed once more in her finest linen dress- after all, for some reason it worked well at the interview- Jessica makes her way to the docks. She carries her glaive- more an ornament and walking stick than a weapon- with almost ceremonial grace, perfectly matching the delicate silver emblem of Shelyn hanging outside her dress. The crowds grow thicker as she approaches the docks, but she has little trouble passing through, as many of the men seem to slow their pace as they draw near.

    Still early in the sun's climb, she arrives at the dock, to see the ship already bustling with activity. I wonder, should I have come earlier? Putting the worry from her mind, she approaches, passing a couple locked in embrace. One of them must be coming, and one must be staying.... but which? she wonders. As she passes, she notes the woman's state- surely not her.

    She retrieves the still-creased letter from a small pocket hidden in the folds of her dress and reveals it to the person she assumes is the quartermaster. "Jessica Cooper reporting for passage to Talmandor's Bounty!" she almost-yells, in ecstatic greeting. With a faint blush, she lowers her voice to a more reasonable level before continuing. "As requested, here's the list of belongings. I hope it's not too much?" She hands over another small note, covered with impeccable handwriting detailing the contents of her pack. The total comes to just over 70 pounds which, despite her relatively lean frame, she seems to carry without complaint. She smiles as a huge mammal lubbers its way up the gangplank- apparently the most recent arrival. Well that's odd...

    With a cheerful nod, she takes to the gangplank. Immediately, her steps become more cautious, betraying her relative discomfort as the ship rolls with the incoming waves. On the deck, she finds herself amidst an odd pair: even at her near-statuesque height, one of the women here still manages to exceed her by a few inches. The other speaks... oddly, and seems to be asking permission to poke the first. Swallowing her unease, she steps up. "Hi there!" she offers with a pleasant grin. "Great day to start a long trip, eh?"

  9. - Top - End - #9
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
    Beholder

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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    Jimbei looks up at the sky and curses to himself, and to his chest. It would have been easier had he not so much to bring, but if he is to help feed the new colony, then he will need all of his equipment.

    Still he should have left sooner. This morning he awoke to Hachi gently slapping his face as a reminder to get up! He harriedly threw everything he thought he might need in his treasure chest and started dragging it down to the docks. Now Jimbei is by no means a small weak man. However, he never realized just how much equipment he had until he started lugging it around all at once! But progress was progress, and he certainly didn’t want to be late to board the Peregrine.

    Now at the docks, with the help of passer by, he slowly but surely makes his way to where the Peregrine makes berth. He is quite the sight with loose clothes that have hardly any design or function other than to cover his large frame, dark blonde hair, a scraggly beard that comes in patchy, but piercing deep blue eyes that have seen the depths of the nearby bays. With a fishing pole and long spear strapped to his back, he heaves backwards with all his might, both hands on the handle of his treasure chest dragging it behind him. His momentum in full swing, he all but barrels over a woman, clearly bearing a child, standing just beyond the gangplank.

    Sorry! sorry.. He awkwardly apologizes attempting to not fall flat on his back.

    He looks up the long gangplank to the deck and takes a deep breath, before squatting and grabbing his chest with both hands and making his way up, trying desperately to hurry and not fall of the sides! Once at the top, he drops his load, and leans on it to catch his breath.

    As he stands up, he notices several eyes on him, and he remembers the letter sent to him that invited him along for the expedition. He reaches into his pockets and pets himself down. There is an extremely slight, almost imperceptible movement within his shirt as he reaches under the folds to find the letter he was looking for.

    The name is Jimbei. I am a fisherman chosen for this journey. Says I am supposed to report to.. He attempts to read the letter again, no wet with his sweat. Anya something or other.. And work with an.. what does that say? Undone? Bumble something home? I dunno..

    He continues trying to decipher the letter.

    O! And this here weighs quite a bit! I have a list here.. Again he reaches into a fold in his shirt and produces another sweaty paper listing all he had brought with him.

    Where shall I take this?

    Spoiler: OoC
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    Under his shirt his spirit animal hugs along his belly giving him the look that he has a gut. Hachi is going to try and hide there. Assuming there are no other modifiers beyond stealth he rolled a (1d20+25)[40]
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  10. - Top - End - #10
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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    Bumbler turns as another woman approaches, giving the treasure-chest-hauling man a glance before turning to the one coming closer. Treasure chests were normal, after all. This was a ship, so of course it would need treasure chests. And of course any chest like that will either be full of treasure, or made to be filled with treasure. That's just how things are.

    "Hey! Bumbler Up Home," Bumbler replies to the new arrival, giving her a wide smile. For the moment, the matter of the weather - as important a topic as it is - is brushed aside in favor of introductions and first impressions. "You're really pretty! What's your name?"
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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    Kaylah is about to reply to Bumbler's question and outstretched finger with a scowl and a bit of implied violence, but the arrival of a new passenger on the Peregrine deck distracts her. At first, she raises an eyebrow at the dress, as though sure that this woman has found the wrong ship. Material's far too nice, there'd be no getting around in that if a fight breaks out. More likely to trip on it than anything else.

    But the glaive is another story. For all of its ornamentation, Kaylah sees the sharp edges, and she knows that if it comes down to a melee, this woman can at least hold her own. Immediately, she moves on to study the smooth and pleasing lines of the newcomer's face and body. She'll certainly have the sailors gawking at her, Kaylah notes with some amusement.

    Truth be told, she's a bit relieved. Somebody like that aboard, everyone will be paying them plenty of attention. Even Bumbler's already forgotten about poking her. She decides that this woman will be the kind of person she'd like to hang around, if only to make herself a mite less noticeable.

    "Kaylah Pistra," the warrior says as she steps forward. In doing so, she brushes past Bumbler in a not-so-subtle way, using her bulk to push the smaller adventurer out of the way. She even goes as far to extend her hand towards the woman with the glaive. "Looks nice enough for now. Can't say I'm much for long sea voyages, myself."

    As Kaylah says the words, she frowns slightly. That's an odd thing for her to say: she's never been out to sea before. Leastaways, nothing beyond the fishing and diving around Lavieton. But in her mind, she sees great waves and rocky shoals. It's so vivid, the kind of image that comes only from memory.

    So why can't I remember it?
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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    Jessica's smile grows even brighter at Bumbler's compliment. A faint blush tinges her cheeks. "Aw, thanks!" She blinks, starting slightly as the even taller woman pushes past the complimentary woman. Jessica quickly recovers, and takes the offered hand in greeting. "I'm Jessica. Jessica Cooper. It won't be too long. Six weeks, they said?" She seems almost childishly cheerful in the early-morning sunlight.

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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    Bumbler is ready to reply to Jessica's reply, when Kaylah suddenly presses past her. For a moment, Bumbler simply blinks and stares - rather than stepping back, as one normally might, she simply stands, seemingly precariously balanced, bent back to make room for the muscular woman without moving her feet, so she remains very much within Kaylah's vicinity. Then she grins, and pokes an exposed bit of her arm. "Poke!" She says. "Thanks!"
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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    "Yeah, six weeks. Never even heard of this place they're sending us." Kaylah says as she returns to the present. She barely registers the poke on her left arm, but then turns to see an unmasked Bumbler grinning back at her. Shaking her head slightly at the nuisance, she returns her attention to Jessica and nods at the glaive that the beautiful brunette is holding out in front of her.

    "That's a fine bit of steel you got there. Be careful with it though; it's always the sharpest sword ends up turning on its wielder." She pats the hilt of the greatsword sticking over her shoulder, and considers what would happen if she tripped and the weapon bit into her back. It's a thought she's entertained before. But what else is there? It's not like she can afford to leave the sword behind.
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    Hasruk keeps to himself, absently patting Whiskers's head while observing the other passengers. Colonists like him, no doubt. In view of the Company's selection process, he assumes these people are good at what they do, and at least somewhat trustworthy. A good thing. He's been in too many jobs along with shady characters over the years, people who leave you in the lurch you any minute. The tribe must stick together. He corrects himself. Not a tribe, but a... team? A group of people with a shared goal.

    This particular group is made of different walks in life, that much is clear. Most striking is the towering woman with the long blade. She looks a little cagey. Not shyness, I don't think. Checking for threats? Maybe. There'll be plenty along the way. This one has seen her share.

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    Then there's the beautiful, almost too beautiful one, in her fine garment. Hasruk lacks the sophistication to appreciate it, but he doesn't miss the apparent symbol of her faith. That will be needed. What's this rainbow bird for, again? Ah, yes. Hmm... The choice of such a person strikes him as odd, as this isn't an artistic endeavor by any stretch of the imagination. They looked a practical lot though. We'll see.

    The other woman, the masked one, is the oddest. She seems bubbly, but her presence and mannerism seem to be unsettling to the others. Hasruk tries to listen to what she's saying, but half the words are carried away by the rising morning wind from the sea, and he can't make sense of those that reach his ears. There'll be plenty of time to get to know what she's about.

    And the two men. The big, slightly paunchy one seems to be a bit shy. Fisherman, more than likely. Some common sense there, no question we'll need those skills. And the slim one with the big hat. Not a sailor, that one. Hasruk chuckles to himself. And leaving his wife behind, expecting? City people, really...

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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    Quote Originally Posted by 3SecondCultist View Post
    "Be careful with it though; it's always the sharpest sword ends up turning on its wielder."
    Jessica tilts her head to the side. "Huh! Never heard that, before!" She blushes furiously, her attention going to the weapon itself. "Oh, and this is more... uh, well... Ornamental, I guess?" She offers a wan, self-deprecating smile. "My father never really approved of me carrying a blade, but it's favored by Shelyn, so Mother Calahan insisted that I be trained in its use. It's mostly a scary-looking walking staff, to me!1"

    She leans forward conspiratorially "Honestly, I've never hit anything more dangerous than a straw dummy with it! I'd probably ruin the blade if it came right down to it!" She stops suddenly, eyes wide at the other woman's blade. "Wait! You don't think we- we're gonna need them, do you?!"

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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    Kaylah snorts audibly, shaking her head with open derision at the woman's naivete. "Oh no, we're just headed off into the middle of nowhere to plant some crops and buildings." She's forced to revise her opinion of Jessica pretty quick-like. Up close, she can see that while the surfaces of the glaive have been polished to a near shine, the edges look rather dull. All told, the armament is as pretty as it is useless. Which makes it, well, pretty useless. She'd smile at the wit, but the situation isn't all that funny. Instead, Kaylah turns and nods farewell to the two others as she looks for somebody to show her to a cabin.

    "I just hope Shelyn's watching over you!", she calls out over her shoulder as she leaves. "Better to have someone up there than nobody at all."

    Inwardly, the big woman wonders why the people at the Company bothered to send somebody like Jessica along. The others she's noticed coming up the gangplank and getting themselves sorted on the Peregrine at least are accustomed to the notion of some danger. Well, maybe not the man in the robes. Looks like a priest, or - even worse - a bookish type. She'll need to keep clear if she wants to keep her head. Then again... maybe the folks in her interview were on the up and up. Could be that they were just bringing Kaylah in case things go belly-up. She dismisses the notion pretty much right away.

    No way we're walking out of this without getting a few scrapes. The thought, oddly enough, brings a small sense of comfort to the warrior. There's no easier place to navigate than a fight at close quarters.
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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    Just as Kaylah is about to turn around and head below deck, a loud, gravelly voice interrupts their conversation. "What's this then!? You lot are crowding up the gangplank!" The lot of them turn to see a towering half-orc with greenish-tinted skin, protruding lower tusks and a mess of black hair atop his head. He is barrel-chested and well-muscled beneath a loose set of breeches and off-white tunic. "Don't just stand there! Move away from the entry!" Then, he turns to a member of the crew working with a set of ropes. "Kit! Just what in the great Eye are you doing?! Those knots will give at the first strong gust! Let me show you!" The half-orc boatswain then proceeds to show the fresh-faced sailor with a few practiced motions.

    A moment after that, a woman strides up with green eyes and wavy auburn hair, the tip of her barely pointed ears sticking through their thick waves. "Don't let Raerg fool you. He's a teddy bear. A strong teddy bear who can rip a man in half...but a teddy bear nevertheless. I'm First Mate Naerath. Who're you lot?" As everyone gives their introductions, she pulls out a parchment and looks for the names on her passenger manifest. "The boatswain is right though. Yer crowdin' the way. Let me escort you to your cabins below deck." She looks down at the chest Jimbei was carrying, and then at the heavy packs and supplies some of the others were carrying. "Leave those things there, out of the way. Deke!!"

    A weathered sailor off to her right looks up from his chores. "Aye?"

    "Be sure these get below deck with the others. Mark their locations and give me the list." The man gives her a nod and an "aye" in response, and begins to arrange the goods in piles. Naerath turns to the group and continues, "I'll let you know where your goods get stowed. Come. Follow me."

    She leads the group down the central stairs and takes the group to the second deck down, and then shows them where they will be staying for the next several weeks. The chambers are walled off rooms, each with two double bunks, a total of four passengers to a room. Two worn wooden footlockers sit at the base of each. "One more thing. Everyone will surrender their weapons aboard the ship for the first week, while you get used to the motions of the seas. No need for new scars, no matter how good they look. Let's have 'em." She looks expectantly at the group and holds out her hands. "Don't worry. You'll have 'em back, sure enough. Meanwhile, let me know if you need anything."

    She nods her farewell and carries the gear off, greeting others and giving commands as she wends her way through the narrow corridor. "She's a handful, ain't she?" one of the other colonists in an adjoining bunk comments as he sorts through a few of his things. Even though he's seated on the bunk, it's evident the man is tall. He has brilliant violet eyes and an easy smile. A pendant of a bow and arrow dangles from around his neck. "Fellow colonists gone off to see the ass end of the world?" he chuckles at his own joke, "I'm Eamon. Looks like it's you and me and Father Grouse." He has a twinkle in his eye as he gestures to an older man in the top bunk above him, who just grunts in response. Hasruk and Jessica were also assigned to bunk in this room.

    Jimbei and Bumbler were assigned to a different room, with two other occupants. One of them is a tall woman with a deep tan complexion, her head is shaved and she has various tattoos of runic and animal totems of the moon and owls all over, including on her head. She nods as they enter the room. "I have this one," she says in a heavily accented voice as she points to one of the bunks. The other occupant of the room has not yet arrived, it appears. As the two of them introduce themselves in their own manner, the woman nods again and says, "Anya."

    Meanwhile, Coster is shown to a slightly different room. He and one other occupant - a man in his twenties in good physical condition - share this room that has only two beds. He has raven-black hair and a pale complexion. The things scattered around him are of fine make, as are the clothes that he wears. "Ah, you must be Coster Trent. I'm Harcourt Carrolby. I believe our parents know each other. A pleasure to make your acquaintance. You and I are both leaving something most precious behind, as I understand," he smiles, though the smile doesn't quite reach his eyes, and offers his hand to shake. "Let us hope that they are not kept waiting long. And let us hope that they get better quarters than these, hmm?"

    And last, Kaylah is led to a slightly larger room with a number of beds. There are four other people in there at the moment, all of them appearing to be warriors and soldiers of some sort, judging by the armor and collection of scars among them. One of them looks up as he is polishing a dagger and nods, a hint of a smile pulling at his lips. "Make yerself at home." The group gives her ample space, not out of fear or distrust, but more out of professional courtesy.
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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    Coster sighed. He'd hoped to have a room amongst everyone else. Doing this only seemed to separated him from people. When he next saw father he'd have to have words with him about organizational techniques. Perhaps a few words to the Captain could see him removed from special treatment. Coster judged six weeks as plenty of time to get acclimated to a more ruff and tumble lifestyle than he was used to.

    He accepted Carrolby's hand, "Well met Carrolby, well met. Hm." He looked around the room, noting that it was perhaps a bit nicer for only having two people in it. "I should hope they're not. Though the notion of Eleanor haggling over a room with Mr. Raerg is humorous. I bet you she could match him in words if not current circumference." Coster went and sat himself down on the bed while trying to remember what it was the Carrolbys did.

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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    Jessica nods along with Naerath's commands, hesitating only for a moment when asked to hand over the glaive. The First Mate's rationale is sound, though, and the glaive doesn't even have a proper sheath, so she obeys without hassle. As she greets Eamon, she smiles warmly. "Erastil, yes? I'm a follower of The Eternal Rose, but I'm sure we'll get along just fine!"

    Naerath comments her assignment to the room as she moves on, causing Jessica's eyes to go wide. She nods to Eamon and "Father Grouse" with a hurried "pardon me," and dashes out the door. Despite what might be assumed about her dress, she moves comfortably in it, and her urgency helps her quickly catch up with the Half-Elf. "Excuse me, miss- errr, first ma- eh... how do I address you, anyway? -nevermind that! Um... I was wondering, errr, that is...."

    She looks around, and drops her voice to a hush. "I've been assigned to a room full of men! That can't be right, can it!?" If her expression is any indication, she's truly terrified at the prospect of spending six weeks not only without proper privacy, but forced to get dressed and sleep amongst the opposite sex!

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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    As they're first led belowdecks by the First Mate and asked to relieve their weapons, Kaylah appears on the verge of refusing to part with her sword. A woman's gotta have a blade, and hers is as good as any she's ever held. But then again, even without it she's got plenty of knives to do the trick. Even got one tucked away someplace safe. So, after some initial grumbling, she accepts the demand and hands over the greatsword. "Better not see anyone else wielding that thing. I already told Jessica here what happens to sharp blades."

    Kaylah is more or less silent for the rest of the trip throughout the belly of the Peregrine, content to watch and listen to the others. She's roughly pieced together how the vessel's been structured, at least enough not to get completely lost should fighting ever break out down here. Hope it don't come to all that - but you never know, with sailors. They're as violent a lot as anyone else. She does her best to keep her expression neutral as the others are introduced to the other crew members and colonists. By her reckoning, there's far too many here who don't know how to wield a proper weapon.

    She doesn't much like the group's odds when they run into trouble on the island.

    Finally, she is shown to her own quarters. It isn't much, but when is it ever? At least these ones look like they know a trade in violence. She nods to the other mercenary's request, hauling the backpack on her shoulder and placing it over what is to be her bunk. "Name's Kaylah," she tells them, but not much else. These folks aren't interested in hearing her whole story, and she sure as sh*t isn't about to share it.

    Now for the waiting, and the watching. It's going to be a long six weeks, she can already tell.
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    Bumbler snaps to attention as the woman comes up onto the ship, wandering over and then happily following her through the ship. It's only when she asks for weapons that Bumbler seems a touch confused, though she does hand over Chop-Chop! and Dashing Duelist's Valiant Blade, seeming content with At Least Three Daggers for the time being, though she seems to have a bit less spring in her step - until she's shown her room. Anya immediately gains Bumbler's interest, and is quickly faced with the same offer of trade that Kaylah was given: muscle-pokes in exchange for braid-tugs.

    For as long as Anya will let her, Bumbler bombards the woman with questions - though she doesn't seem to think anything about her appearance is of note apart from her muscles, and asks about those rather than her tattoos or bare head. She on occasion turns to Jimbei for assent or follow-up on matters such as whether he had ever seen muscles like Anya's before, and they were impressive, right? and of course anyone would want to know how she got them, please tell her secrets.
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    Before he goes below deck, Hasruk addresses the boatswain, "Sir, this one over there, he's mine. I call him Whiskers, is damn useful. He won't be in your way, should stay on deck with your permission. He might go overboard for a swim, is all. He's still a young one, likes his freedom, see. That's why I don't want to allow him in living quarters, if that's all right with you, Sir."

    When he's asked to surrender his weapons, the tattooed half-orc complies with a toothy smile, and only a faint hint of irony that's easily missed on his brutish face. "Yes. Good caution." He opens his large chest, revealing a quarterstaff and a good-sized scythe lying on top of his haphazardly stowed equipment, the bulk of which consists of large, bulging sacks. He also offers a dagger, a sling, and a pouch full of metal bullets. Take it away if you will, my people are never without a weapon, he reflects with a pride mixed with sadness.

    As he enters the room he is to share, apparently, with divinely inspired folk, he introduces himself. "Name's Hasruk. The Sea Mother is my guide. I can see you, and you, and you..." He nods respectfully, if not elegantly, at each one. "... all follow the path of the gods. That is good." With that said, he doesn't seem prepared to elaborate, or to engage in chit-chat. Instead, he inspects his bunk, sets his pack on it, and sets down to relax, until Jessica's sudden flight causes him to turn his head towards the exiting girl in puzzlement. Did I frighten her? Used to such reactions, he sighs inwardly, but doesn't comment.

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    Above deck, Raerg glances at the other half-orc as he makes his request, giving him an approving slight nod as he sees the tattoos. "Huh. Walrus. Ain't seen one a'them since we was berthed in Kalsgard. Seein' as how the Company is payin' the cap'n a sh*tload a'money for this trip, some rules are to be bent. You look like one that's used to the seas, so let me tell you straight. Make sure 'Whiskers' stays outta the way and 'e can go anywhere 'e likes. But the ship ain't stopping or slowin' down for 'im or nobody. If 'e goes for a swim, he's likely stayin' in the water if ya catch my meaning."

    Down below deck, Harcourt squeezes the wizard's hand firmly but not painfully and then returns to his task of sorting through his packs for items he wishes to keep out for the journey. Coster can't help but notice that the nobleman has a beautifully made sword laying on his bed, the pommel of the blade shaped like a horse's head. It's at that moment that he remembers what the Carrolby family does - they're a family of exceedingly rich and successful horse breeders. ""Well, if that bastard even looks askance at my Felicity, I assure you that she can take care of herself as well. And that she will laugh as he hangs from the gallows if he acts truly dastardly. She's broken horses much more wild than he."

    Meanwhile, Naerath turns as the breathless cleric seeks her out. An amused smirk curls at her lips. "First, since you are not my crew, you can call me by name. Naerath. And second, I'm afraid that we don't have the luxury of staterooms or gender assigned quarters on his ship, Ms. Cooper. We're quite crowded as it is, you may have noticed," she gestures to the activity all around them as colonists and crewmembers conduct their business. "If you do not want that room with the priests, then you may sleep in the hammocks with my crew. Either that, or you may find someone that is willing to trade. It's a long voyage. My suggestion? Get used to a lack of privacy. I have." She chuckles and turns around to continue her way elsewhere.

    In the soldiers' quarters, Kaylah is slowly getting herself arranged. The other soldiers introduce themselves in turn. Jas (pronounced "jass") is likely the youngest of them, a human male with short shaved hair but a surprisingly long blonde beard and piercing blue eyes. Definitely from the north, she thinks. He gives her an appraising glance but does little more as he stows things in his footlocker. Carrow is a thin black-haired half-elven man with a long gash along his neck and missing his little finger on his left hand. He's already hung a beautiful looking darkwood bow above his top bunk. Probably from Cheliax. Velna is a dwarven woman with an exceedingly large nose and beady dark eyes, her hair a fiery red tied back in a braid. She is well-muscled, quite short, stout and looks like she means business, a permanent scowl darkening her features. Carter is a human male also with red hair, though his is short and mussed up. He has calloused hands and knuckles belying one used to fisticuffs. He seems friendly enough though, joking about with Jas and Carrow, both of whom he seems to know. Then there's Dara, a human woman with brown hair held back in a ponytail. She's a tall woman, perhaps the tallest one in the room and quite physically fit. At first blush, the others don't seem to talk to her, which she doesn't seem to mind either. She gives Kaylah a nod and little more during the introductions. And last to arrive, just after Kaylah, is a human male who breathlessly announces himself as Dung (with a slightly longer 'u' sound). He's clearly of Tian descent and has the typical Tian build - shorter, thin and agile. He removes a leather jerkin to reveal a row of knives along his belt and more on a bandolier at an angle down along his chest. He settles into his bed to begin putting his gear away. "Yes. That my name. Deal," he says, a smirk on his face as though he's heard them all.

    For all her stoicism, Anya deals with Bumbler's questions and odd mannerisms with a remarkable amount of patience, even allowing a poke in her muscled right arms as well as giving the woman's braid a tug when offered. "Strange custom. But not unpleasant," she remarks. When asked about her muscles, she shrugs. "Necessary to survive. Swiftness too. Night creatures are strong and swift. You learn to hunt and fight them many ways."
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    Naerath's expression brings relief to Jessica's face. She nods quiet acknowledgement. "Naerath. Got it." Fully expecting the situation to be one of oversight, the rest of the first mate's response causes the young priestess' mouth to slowly fall agape. At the final suggestion, the blood drains from her face, leaving her almost impressively pale considering her face is currently made-up. Her mouth works over the words for a few moments before it forms sound. "I- I- lack of privacy..." She blinks. Twice. For a moment it looks like she might start crying.

    "M- may I return to th-the deck for... for a moment?" She asks, visibly trying (and possibly failing) to compose herself before returning to her assigned quarters.

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    Naerath gives a shrug as she walks away and calls back over the noise below deck. "Go wherever you wish! Just not during heavy seas. Stay below deck then. It's for the best!" At which point, Jessica loses sight of the first mate.
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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    With a quiet sigh (of relief?) Jessica turns and hurries back the direction she's just come. Back on deck, she spends several moments standing in the breeze, looking back over the city that has been her home the last few years. Silently, she looks out at the people traversing the docks, wondering what her father would say; wondering what Mother Calahan would say. Is this really what I'm supposed to be doing? she asks, silently, of her patron. She looks to the sky, willing the tears to stay in- it would not do to ruin her rouge on the very first morning!

    As she allows her head to fall back to rise, thoughts raging, her eyes fall upon a single wren, nestled against the support columns of a nearby warehouse. A faint smile begins to play upon her lips as she focuses her mind, its warbling trills suddenly cutting through the hustle and bustle of everyday mercantile. For several minutes, she stands, listening to the playful melody as a second joins in...

  28. - Top - End - #28
    Titan in the Playground
     
    PersonMan's Avatar

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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    Bumbler beams up at Anya as she accepts her offer. "It's traditional Up Home, yup!" She replies. "Thanks! Will there - do you know if there will be any night beasts, up in, you know, there, in the colony?" She asks. "Oh, and they're not like knight beasts, right? Those would be, definitely, no-way, right? Just a silly thing," Bumbler continues, chuckling to herself.
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  29. - Top - End - #29
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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    Kaylah spends a few moments per new face. She's not all that comfortable in big crowds, but an outfit like this reminds her a little of friends come and gone. The northern man certainly knows where to look, and she makes a note to check out sleeping arrangements later. The sea is cold, and she wouldn't mind a warm body to share the voyage with. None of these folk seem all that squeamish; she sure as hell isn't.

    "Good to be aboard," she says lamely after getting the tour. She's already sussed out some of the social dynamics in the pack: Carter is the most well known and respected of the bunch, with relationships among the men. He'll be the one they'll be looking to in times of trouble down here. Dara, the big woman, looks like she's got a few inches on Kaylah. She wouldn't much like her odds going up against her in a scrap, especially not without her proper blade.

    But none of them have met the other one.

    Doing her best to fall into the more social crowd without acting too eager, Kaylah listens often and speaks rarely, with a bit of thought. While not at all interested in being the center of attention, she'd rather not be seen as one of the sullen outcasts. Either role is bound to bring eyes, and questions. If she's just another member of the crew, it'll be that much easier for her to go unnoticed by the others.

    A woman's got to look like less than she is, course. It's the only way to survive.

    "So, anyone heard of this place they're taking us?" It's not much for a conversation starter, but she always figured getting to know the people you travel with makes the journey that much lighter. Besides, she barely looked twice before signing her name to this venture. Might be worth her while to learn something.
    Last edited by 3SecondCultist; 2018-01-27 at 06:32 PM.
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    You divine bastard.
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  30. - Top - End - #30
    Barbarian in the Playground
     
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    Default Re: [PF] Ruins of Azlant - The Lost Colony

    Quote Originally Posted by CleverDragon View Post

    Jimbei and Bumbler were assigned to a different room, with two other occupants. One of them is a tall woman with a deep tan complexion, her head is shaved and she has various tattoos of runic and animal totems of the moon and owls all over, including on her head. She nods as they enter the room. "I have this one," she says in a heavily accented voice as she points to one of the bunks. The other occupant of the room has not yet arrived, it appears. As the two of them introduce themselves in their own manner, the woman nods again and says, "Anya."
    Jimbei stands back and waits as Bumbler asks a few questions. However seeing that the few questions are turning into more and more questions, he quickly butts in to wave at Anya, keeping his distance.
    ”Anya! My name is Jimbei. According to this letter here I am to be working with you and Bumbler here. I’m sorry for inturrupting Bumbler but I think I should go on Deck now that I know where I am staying. I can smell myself..”

    With that, he turns, eyes to the floor, and walks out. The physical exertion of carrying everything to the ship has caused Jimbei to sweat profusely and the smell was pervading his clothes. Seeing that he would be staying in a room with two ladies he wants to air out both for his comfort and to ease his embarrassment.

    I can’t remember the last time I stayed a night with a girl..

    Just under the stairs before going on deck he takes a peek down his shirt and mumbles an apology for the stench before climbing up.

    Ther sun hits him hard, and he covers his face while looking about trying to find a nice spot to air out. He follows the breeze, one hand outstretched to try and avoid hitting people as best he can while he squints tightly. When he comes to the edge of the ship he stands tall arms out wide to allow the air to blow over him and through his clothes.

    ”Much better!” He smiles as the cool wind passes over him, eyes shut, listening to a couple birds singing. As he opens his eyes, satisfied and far more comfortable, he realizes he is standing not far from an extremely attractive young lady. She must be here by mistake. This is no place for a lady like that.

    He gives himself a quick sniff, to make sure he won’t offend anyone.

    ”Excuse me miss. Are you lost? This ship is going away to start a new colony. I don’t think there will be a chance of coming back.”
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