Out of the Abyss, IC II

[Archmage1]

ALADIN Autognome Artificer AC: 19 HP: 48/51 PP: 15 PIv: 18 PIs: 13 Sanity: 10 Conditions: Concentrating: Despite his best efforts, ALADIN knew he was losing the freed slaves. He hadn't considered their presence when he made his plan. but when Derendil arrives, and starts to help, things improve rapidly, allowing several of the slaves to be preserved. After all of the survivors passed away, ALADIN looks to Y and Derendil. "That is as many of the slaves rescued as possible under these circumstances. As there may be useful artifacts remaining on the sunken ship, I will descend and search it before anything starts to consider the wreck it's home." With that, he jumps from the submarine, and starts to work his way down to the sunken wreck, keeping a careful eye out for anything large and dangerous that might have been disturbed by the passage of the wreck. Spoiler: OOC Show (1d20+8)[9] Investigation(Looking for threats on the way down)?

RONT Orc Brute Fighter AC: 17 HP: 33/60 PP: 11 PIv: 9 PIs: 11 Sanity: 10 Conditions: Concentrating: With others arriving on the deck, Ront directs them towards the collection of dead and mostly dead drow, before he starts to pull on his vambrace chain, trying to pull out Dawnbringer from her perch. Spoiler: OOC Show (1d20+11)[29] Athletics?

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 23/40 MP: 14/31 PP: 13 PIv: 15 PIs: 13 Conditions: Exhaustion (1), 4 exp hit dice, THP: 10 Concentrating: Create Bonfire Arcane Recovery: 0/2. Hexblade Curse: Exp. Slots:- Pact: 0/1 1st: 1/4 2nd: 0/3 3rd: 2/2 Faedryl slows her battlefield execution. Either the helmsman had taken complete leave of his senses - not unusual given the trauma of being so thoroughly defeated - or her lipreading needed practicing. Bloody dagger still in hand, she places the flat of the blade beneath the crouching male's chin and tilts it up. "If you have something to say, say it, while you still have air in your lungs to do so."

[RandomWombat]

ALADIN

Sinking down into the inky black waters, ALADIN drafts past curious fish and down onto the sunken deck. It is well below the water now, where no light reaches, and only his enhanced eye allows him to pierce the black with his gaze. It paints the world in shades of green, giving an eerie glow to the sunken vessel, as if it were a spirit peeking through from the Ethereal.

And it is a spirit that he encounters, down below, though he only notices it a few moments after he 'lands'. Or some sort of undead, at any rate. Its long bony tail winds between the wooden railings, the spine and bone structure resembling a giant eel skeleton. Eventually the tail slithers up into a ragged robe, hanging loosely around the frame of a bony humanoid torso in the water. The long protruding snout of an eel skull extends from an equally ragged hood, with light gleaming inside of the sockets. The light looks green - but with his Darkvision, he cannot tell for certain.

In the clutches of the undead creature, ALADIN can see one of the drow who'd been pulled under in the wake of the sinking ship. An archer, from whom a trail of shimmering light is being drained into the creature's jaws, leaving the corpse increasingly shriveled in spite of the wet all around. By a slight tilt of its head, he can tell that the creature has noticed him, and it releases the body, which crumbles apart into dust in the soft lake currents. Its jawbones rattle with a clacking sound that would be louder, were it not muffled by the feet of water between them.

A voice, feminine and with the fey lilt of a Sylvan accent, greets him with a casual observation, "You are neither corpse nor fish. So you must be after treasure, then." The entity shifts to face him. "Ships that sink in this lake are mine. If you wish my treasures, you will trade for them."

The Ships

Head tilted up towards Faedryl, the helmsman repeats himself quietly, "Do you know Diinar?"

Their respective trains of thought are momentarily interrupted by a sharp crack of shattering wood, as Ront tugs his chain hard enough to break through the wooden railing it's attached to. The vambrace reels in, and Dawnbringer finds his hands, the sword's shining light already receding nearer to its blade. "Victory is ours' once more, comrades," the sword declares, voice resonating in the minds of those all around.

[Archmage1]

ALADIN Autognome Artificer AC: 19 HP: 48/51 PP: 15 PIv: 18 PIs: 13 Sanity: 10 Conditions: Concentrating: Seeing the many strange fish and other creatures as he descended, ALADIN carefully observed them, storing imagery into his databanks for later analysis. Although the green discoloration caused by the light distortion would be challenging to filter. However, his cataloging is interrupted by the arrival of the strange, undead-seeming eel. And it's claim. Still, as it seemed to be draining something from the dead, it was unlikely to be a threat. Responding in the same language, and moving slowly so as to not produce clouds of mud and muck, ALADIN tries to speak. "Greetings, strange being." The sound comes out distorted, as his vocabularizer wasn't optimized for creating sounds in water. Still that was a matter of a few moments to correct with his tools. "Greetings, strange being. I am called ALADIN. I was intending to explore the vessel that I sunk to see if there might be salvage of utility remaining, however, if you have other items for sale I would be willing to explore your offerings. What do you have on offer, and what would you be interested in obtaining in exchange?" Despite the potential danger, ALADIN seems entirely unconcerned about an risks.

RONT Orc Brute Fighter AC: 17 HP: 33/60 PP: 11 PIv: 9 PIs: 11 Sanity: 10 Conditions: Concentrating: Grasping the sword once more, Ront roars in agreement with Dawnbringer. "They never stood a chance before the might of Ront!"

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 23/40 MP: 14/31 PP: 13 PIv: 15 PIs: 13 Conditions: Exhaustion (1), 4 exp hit dice, THP: 10 Concentrating: Create Bonfire Arcane Recovery: 0/2. Hexblade Curse: Exp. Slots:- Pact: 0/1 1st: 1/4 2nd: 0/3 3rd: 2/2 Ah, that explained it. Dinner. Diinar. She was out of practice. "He's a good friend of mine," she replies, letting the blade drop and squatting to meet his eye level. "So? Now that we're here, in this position, what's your next step?" She'd expected her sister's agents to be in a larger position of power. To her eyes, his contribution had been apathy more than assistance. She wouldn't say no to more manpower, especially since they'd lost one of their marauders, and a trained helmsman might come in handy, but somehow she doubted Azazzea would donate a trusted agent so freely, especially if he could be put to use elsewhere now that Ilvara was eelfeed.

[RandomWombat]

ALADIN

"I do not have 'items' for sale," the creature responds, slithering across the surface of the ship and drawing nearer to ALADIN, though not near enough to attack. "Sing for me a song I have never heard, and sing it well," she instructs, bony clawed fingers grasping one of the rigging ropes to hold her aloft. "If your trade is satisfactory, I shall grant you freedom to pick this carcass clean of shiny treasure. If you disappoint me, I will take your tongue." In a truly fey fashion, the deal offered is as whimsical as it is abstract and vague.

The Ships

"Never know when we're being watched," the drow man speaks, looking around into the air as if he could see a scrying anchor floating invisibly nearby. "If my identity is compromised, I cannot go back. Can you tell?"

[Archmage1]

ALADIN Autognome Artificer AC: 19 HP: 48/51 PP: 15 PIv: 18 PIs: 13 Sanity: 10 Conditions: Concentrating: ALADIN nods at the creatures request, acknowledging the tasking. "Certainly. Allow me a moment to compose." Internally, he activates his dynamic content generator. It was an experimental feature, intended to generate content that his master did not care about, but it would produce a song that the creature had never heard. It took a few moments to generate, before he ran through his vocabulerator's range of sounds, to verify that things were on pitch, before he starts playing his tune. "In a quiet corner of the world, where whispers weave their tales, There stands a librarian, her heart aflutter with ancient trails. Her glasses perch upon her nose, a map of constellations, As she tends to shelves of secrets, lost in quiet contemplations. The dew-kissed pages cling to her fingertips, Each book a universe waiting to unfurl. She dances with words, pirouettes through time, A custodian of stories, her soul a precious pearl. Oh, the librarian dreams of adventures untold, Of knights and dragons, and mysteries unfold. Her ink-stained fingers trace forgotten lore, As she guards the gateway to realms galore. The library breathes—a living, breathing creature, Its wooden spine creaks, its heart a silent preacher. Dusty manuscripts whisper secrets in hushed tones, And the librarian listens, her spirit ever prone. She knows the weight of lost love and ancient spells, The fragrance of parchment, the taste of ink. Her eyes reflect the moon’s silver glow, As she weaves enchantment into every link. Oh, the librarian dreams of adventures untold, Of knights and dragons, and mysteries unfold. Her ink-stained fingers trace forgotten lore, As she guards the gateway to realms galore. When the clock chimes midnight, the library awakens, Characters step out of pages, their stories unshaken. She waltzes with Jane Eyre, shares tea with Bilbo Baggins, And whispers to the ghosts of poets and their sagas. Oh, the librarian dreams of adventures untold, Of knights and dragons, and mysteries unfold. Her ink-stained fingers trace forgotten lore, As she guards the gateway to realms galore. And when the last reader leaves, the lanterns dim, The librarian sighs, her heart both heavy and prim. For she knows that within these walls, magic thrives, And she’ll forever be the keeper of countless lives." Spoiler: OOC Show For reference, this is sourced from Bing Copilot. I was going to make a modification of the "I am the very model of a modern major-general" song, but then realized that using AI generation would be a lot more appropriate here. If you want a performance check... (1d20-1)[14] + (1d4)[4](If the 1d4 would be useful). Alternatively, if you will allow the fiddling with the vocabulerator to count for allowing tool usage, add 6 to that? Or ask for a re-roll?

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 17 HP:22/53 22/29 MP 0 Temp HP PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Sanity:12 Conditions: Concentrating on: 0 of 5 d10 HD. Spell Slots- 4/4 1st, 2/2 2nd Borthan left the decisions for who lived and who died up to Faedryl, as this situation was murky with personal feelings, drow vendetta, and a cold practicality, none of which was Borthan's favorite flavor of ale. He began moving the crew to do repairs, dispose of the dead, and clean up the blood.

Prince Derendil Quaggoth Barbarian/Abjurer AC: 17 HP: 45/45 34/34 MP 7 Temp HP PP: 10 PIv: 12 PIs: 10 Sanity 10 Conditions: Mage Armor (8 hrs), Arcane Ward (0hp/12hp) Concentrating on: Rage HD:0/1 D12, 1/4 D6 Spell Slots- 3/3 1st, 3/3 2nd, 2/2 3rd Derendil smiled at Aladdin as they worked side by side to keep the slaves alive, presumably with more success than if either of them worked separately. When they parted ways, he watched the small metal man go to his other work with renewed interest.

[Spore]

Nilvae and Mr Spide Half-Elf Witch | Sentient Spider Cleric AC: 13 HP: 11/32 MP: 40/45 | AC: 14 HP: -/37 MP: 34/34 PP: 11 PIv: 11 PIs: 14 San: 13 (+1) | PP: 10 PIv: 15 PIs: 10 San 14 Spell Slots, 3rd: 0/2 | Conditions: prone Concentration: Nilvae listens intently, and even smiles at the wizard conceding this was merely business, and the jaded killer's will was not her own. I wish I could grant you refuge on the surface for a time until you find those anarchist drow you speak of. Nilvae's speech lapses. But even I have run away from my life. Almost a poetic counterpoint to yours, I was force into a relationship which I did not approve of The elf pauses, then continues. Your words feel trustworthy enough so I would wake your darling. Nilvae limps over to the unconscious drow assassin. She double-checks if the wizard is fine with her touching his partner. She lays down petals in a triangle and hums a melody of loss and love. We will probably have to investigate the Faerzess; for the little mushroom, Sarith. I know you are not used to being asked your opinion, but do you concur with that choice? For more pressing matters I need a bit of time to remove the corruption from your body though so you can heal properly. Nilvae approaches the droow that defended her life and tries to hug him. Thank you for saving my life, Sarith. I do owe you a great deal. Spoiler Show Healing Hex on Urlyn for 14 and Xalith for 9. Short Rest would be appreciated, along with 10 minutes to ritual recall Spide. Also Archmage convinced me to get Identify, so I'mma start IDing **** after caring for living peoples.

Galdar Bloodskull Duergar 'Psion' AC: 19 HP: 21/38 MP: 39/39 PP: 15 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 San: 14 Spell Slots, 1st: 3/4, 2nd: 3/3, 3rd: 1/2 Sorcery Points: 1/4 Conditions: Telepathic Bond (Faedryl) Concentration: - I do not want to pry, milady, but you should probably continue your conversation below deck. Magic may be capable but a bit of sturdy wood and steel can still prevent much prying of eyes and ears. the dwarf's voice echoes in Faedryl's head. He then stands between the blade, Ront and the drow mage to give them some privacy. We noticed you shining bright braggard. But I feel Bront could have won by tearing out a plank from the ship and murdering drow. His voice is not filled with hostility, but rather with an odd sense of pride. Dwarves may have hated orcs in the past, but the duergar was a muscle for hire, and he knew good work. Besides, Ront seemt like an useful idiot for the psion to manipulate. Sometimes you just need a bit of muscle rather than fancy divine bull****.

Stool Myconid Druid AC: 15 (bucket armor) HP: 38/44 MP: ??/?? PP: 16 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 San: 12 Conditions: Fungal Infestation (Drow Soldier Zombie 1hp, 1h) Concentration: Healing Spirit A tendril of the myconid extends itself to the former enemy and the drow soldier slowly raises, its broken head still laying on the floor. Dark Elf make mess. Dark Elf clean mess. Stool signals to the pirate captain. Stool was only just starting to grasp the concept of poetic irony, but it also felt incredibly fair to him. After all, it was cyclical. the drow destroyed so the drow cleaned up.

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 23/40 MP: 14/31 PP: 13 PIv: 15 PIs: 13 Conditions: Exhaustion (1), 4 exp hit dice, THP: 10 Concentrating: Arcane Recovery: 0/2. Hexblade Curse: Exp. Slots:- Pact: 0/1 1st: 0/4 2nd: 0/3 3rd: 2/2 Faedryl silently huffs. Of course they'd make it mildly more frustrating. She grabs the helmsman up by his collar, a little rough, to sell the deception, and drags him away below decks, into 'privacy'. On the way, with her free hand, she conjures up a small detection glyph, scanning for any scrying sensors or similar magic.

Spoiler: Actions

Show

Expending her final 1st level slot to cast Detect Magic to search for scrying sensors.

Sarith Kzerkarit Drow Fighter/Phantom Rogue AC: 16 HP: 12/46 MP: 22/22 PP: 16 PIv: 11 PIs: 10 Conditions: 0/8 THP Concentrating: Whispers: 0/3 (PB/LR) "I don't care where we go. Faedryl will decide, I'm sure." He 'sidesteps' the attempted hug by tossing her the shortsword and wand. "These will need looking at once we are back at the ship."

[RandomWombat]

ALADIN

While ALADIN adjusts his vocabulator, the fey creature watches patiently - or perhaps curiously, more than patiently. Enough novelty to spare him its impatience. When he sings, she taps bony claws on the rope lines, inaudibly. Any sound the motions may have made is muffled by the water.

The creature does not sway or move to the music. It tilts its head to the side, observing ALADIN carefully with each of its eyes. Once the performance is through, the fey lets go of the ropes and drifts back down to the deck, drawing nearer. "This song I have never heard," she says, in a low voice. "Yet I cannot feel any story in the song. You weave music like the dolls. It does not come from a soul. This one, it is only words. Pretty words. Pretty words, sliced and arranged and delivered well, like an empty dessert. I admit, you have fulfilled the trade." A bony tail lashes against the railing. "I am curious. If you were to sing a song of your soul, construct, what would you sing of?" Green light flares behind the lake creature's eye sockets. "You do have a soul. Or something like it. Did you know that, I wonder?"

Above them, discarded bodies cast overboard slowly sink as they become logged with water. With a motion of a claw, the fey ushers a pair of black eels to carry one of the partially-eaten corpses over, and takes it in hand. "A soul leaves a residue, when it leaves. I detect the same sort of substance in you."

Spoiler: Insight DC 14

Show

This creature's mentioning of musical dolls brings to mind the dolls that perform at the Surly Siren - and that in turn brings back recollection of the tavern's namesake. Though the eel-skulled fey does not resemble traditional depictions of sirens, this may in fact be that namesake.

The Ships

Slowly but surely, the decks are cleaned of corpses. The drow ship sports a rather sizeable hole in the side, and for any seafaring vessel it would be a crippling wound. The Darklake is calmer, more often than not, reducing the risk of taking on water before it can be repaired - or limped to a port and sold for scrap.

When Stool raises one of the dead drow slaves, the man's muscular body heaves back to standing, back still dripping fresh blood from the gaping hole the mechanical spider burst from. It carries out a Sisyphean task of mopping up the very blood it trails behind it, until the corpse's supply runs dry, leaving it pale and shriveled looking. If the orcish pirate is bothered by the necromantic practice, he does not mention it.

Taking the prisoner helmsman with her, Faedryl scans the deck as she descends into Ilvara's ship. Below is a large rowing chamber, where rows of slaves are waiting. The destruction of the wall caused the deaths of some of their number, but also freed those who survived the cannonball passing through by blowing apart the wall that anchored their manacles. They have since managed to free their fellows, and the men huddle in a cowering mass when Faedryl appears, lowering their heads in deference.

Spoiler: Faedryl

Show

Faedryl does, in fact, spot a scrying sensor above the naval battlefield, off the port railing and above their heads. As she moves below, she sees no such sensors in the interior.

East Cliffs

"She should see me when she wakes. Else she may attempt to throw you from the cliffs," the wizard cautions, stretching his legs to once more touch the ground. He walks alongside Nilvae to his fallen lover's side, and kneels down. Nilvae notes that he himself is unwounded - he'd not been struck before arriving at their cliff.

Xalith's eyes blink open after Nilvae begins mending her, and she jolts upright. A soft hand on her shoulder from Urlyn stops her from grabbing a stone to strike Nilvae across the face. "The fight is over, mistress. We have lost." She looks up and examines Urlyn's unwounded body, making the same observation Nilvae had just before.

"You spared no effort, I see," the agent remarks coolly, sitting up. Despite her tone, she lays a hand on his and holds it there, rather than brushing him away.

"Dying in a losing fight unbefits us, when we are so far from home that we may have our freedom at last. Ilvara is dead," the mage delivers the happy news. "Or soon to be."

"And who is the surface elf who walks with drow and leaves their throats unslit?" locking eyes with Nilvae, and Sarith over her shoulder, Xalith inquires.

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 23/40 MP: 14/31 PP: 13 PIv: 15 PIs: 13 Conditions: Exhaustion (1), 4 exp hit dice, THP: 10 Concentrating: Detect Magic Arcane Recovery: 0/2. Hexblade Curse: Exp. Slots:- Pact: 0/1 1st: 0/4 2nd: 0/3 3rd: 2/2 "Congratulations! You have been rescued. If you wish to live freely, ascend to the deck - calmly - and speak to the half-drow. He'll take care of you." She shoos the slaves away, casually leaving them to Borthan to deal with. She's not unsympathetic to their fears and concerns. Were she not interrogating (no, 'questioning' might be the better word) the helmsman she might deal with them herself, but she has priorities. Once the slaves are all gone and they're alone, she releases her grip on the drow's collar, giving it a gentle pat down. "There are no sensors here, and no ears to listen but mine."

Sarith Kzerkarit Drow Fighter/Phantom Rogue AC: 16 HP: 12/46 MP: 22/22 PP: 16 PIv: 11 PIs: 10 Conditions: 0/8 THP Concentrating: Whispers: 0/3 (PB/LR) "A pain in my neck," Sarith mutters at the agent's question. Her handcrossbow is still in hand, racked with a bolt, just in case.

[Archmage1]

ALADIN Autognome Artificer AC: 19 HP: 48/51 PP: 15 PIv: 18 PIs: 13 Sanity: 10 Conditions: Concentrating: As his singing ends, ALADIN observes the creature, noting that it seemed to be content with the song provided. As it started speaking of souls, ALADIN listens. "I do not know. Research into the nature of the soul is rarely recorded in a useful fashion. Necromancers have been known to conduct such research, but they generally focus on utilization of souls to power magical constructs, rather than seeking to understand the underlying phenomenon. Religious individuals typically produce non-reproducible results in any research they deign to report and their findings are frequently tainted by belief. While golemancy is similar to necromancy in several ways, it is also far more complex, as animating never alive material requires a far great depth of knowledge. I am afraid that my master never discussed my creation process, nor do I have records of any efforts to create a soul." Despite the potential danger posed by the creature, ALADIN continues to remain unconcerned by any danger, waiting patiently for the creature to conclude whatever it was doing and moving on before he could begin his search.

RONT Orc Brute Fighter AC: 19 HP: 31/60 PP: 11 PIv: 9 PIs: 11 Sanity: 10 Conditions: Concentrating: Hearing the insult to his weapon, Ront quickly swings around, grabbing Galdar by his breastplate, and lifting him with ease before moving his scowling face into Galdar's. "Shiny Sword make light. Light make drow weaker. Weak drow die faster. Shiny sword helpful. Shiny sword aware. Apologize to Shiny Sword." Ront's words, delivered in the sort of low, angry growl that you might hear from a bear right before the bear gets violent, are also somewhat difficult to make out, as his lack of skill with undercommon shows clearly. Spoiler: OOC Show (1d20+11)[27]Athletics?

[RandomWombat]

Faedryl

Filing out past them, the slaves hustle up onto the deck. Their former helmsman takes a seat on one of the intact rowing benches. "Your House was quite confident that Ilvara would succeed this time," he begins, rubbing his chin where there is a small nick from the dagger. "Two ships, to track down a small party of escaped prisoners. It seems they underestimated you."

"Once they are aware of the failure, you can expect Doranesa to lead the next expedition," he says. Doranesa Melad, her eldest sister. A decorated Lolthite huntress, with many kills of marked foes to her name - and many more unmarked, yet implied, as is the way of Lolth. A particularly loyal troop of quaggoth slaves serves as her shock troops, minds warped to serve no other master. "You have time. She is engaged in another hunt, last I knew."

"If there are no sensors here, my face is not known yet. I could make my way back, but not alone. The other survivors could act as a buffer," he glances up at the ceiling. "They do not have much room to argue. That or die. If my face has been compromised, however, I should find my way to the Blingdenstone." He does not readily offer an explanation for this location, however. With the scrying sensor abovedeck, his face is likely known, but keeping him around would mean giving her sister ears in and among the party.

ALADIN

"That was a question of rhetoric," the fey chastises, but draws back all the same. "If you've no answer to your soul's song, so be it. May you find it in time. Collect your treasure and I shall collect mine." Losing whatever whimsical interest she had in the construct, she slithers through the water to drain the whatever-it-is from the dead sailors cast overboard.

The Ships

"While your leap to my defense is most appreciated, wielder, I would prefer not to start fights with our allies," the sword-spirit speaks softly through the telepathic radiance. Though she cannot help but add, "However odious."

Emerging from below, another near-dozen slaves give the dwarf-orc confrontation a wide berth and shuffle towards the side of the ship where Borthan and the Manta float alongside. "The half-drow," one says, pointing at him.

"We are... rescued?" another asks. "What do we do?"

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 23/40 MP: 14/31 PP: 13 PIv: 15 PIs: 13 Conditions: Exhaustion (1), 4 exp hit dice, THP: 10 Concentrating: Detect Magic Arcane Recovery: 0/2. Hexblade Curse: Exp. Slots:- Pact: 0/1 1st: 0/4 2nd: 0/3 3rd: 2/2 The sole benefit that her eldest sister was the next on the chopping block was that, hopefully, after that they'd give up. The idea that Mother Dearest would take to the field herself is so unlikely she doesn't even begin to entertain it. She doesn't relish putting Doranesa down, nor is she looking forward to their meeting, but at least now she knows. "There was a sensor on deck, none below. You can roll the dice yourself if they think they know your face or not. I would err on the side of caution." Chances are they'd get off when they made it back to port and went their separate ways - one short journey shouldn't impact their information overmuch. "Anything else?"

[Archmage1]

ALADIN Autognome Artificer AC: 19 HP: 48/51 PP: 15 PIv: 18 PIs: 13 Sanity: 10 Conditions: Concentrating: ALADIN politely waits for the strange creature to finish the conversation, before he starts to search the sunken remains of the ship for anything of use, scanning for both visual signs, and for signs of magic. Spoiler: OOC Show Casting Detect Magic, on the grounds of it seems handy. (1d20+8)[15] Investigation?

RONT Orc Brute Fighter AC: 17 HP: 33/60 PP: 11 PIv: 9 PIs: 11 Sanity: 10 Conditions: Concentrating: Even as Dawnbringer speaks, Ront's arm holds steady, his gaze, still threatening, still waiting for the puny dwarf's response.

[Spore]

Nilvae and Mr Spide Half-Elf Witch | Sentient Spider Cleric AC: 13 HP: 11/32 MP: 40/45 | AC: 14 HP: -/37 MP: 34/34 PP: 11 PIv: 11 PIs: 14 San: 13 (+1) | PP: 10 PIv: 15 PIs: 10 San 14 Spell Slots, 3rd: 0/2 | Conditions: Concentration: The half-elf fumes as she hears hateful rhetorics and bravado. Can you ****ing idiots hold your damn hate boners for each other for ONE FEY-CURSED MINUTE? She snaps up pointing at Xalith and Sarith. Can't you see you are both abused by a system that benefits from you two being hostile with each other? Sarith helped me escape a prison camp. You just attacked us, and we still give you the benefit of the doubt. She pauses. Because we know drow SOCIETY. But not all drow subscribe to Lolth's insanities. I was serving a mad fae trickster, and I am now serving an equally engimatic divine being. And even I know that you dont have to take every command. Sarith took fate into his own hands, even if this meant serving Faedryl for the upcoming time. I expect him to sober up and eventually learn our group is based on mutual assistance, if not friendship. He defends Faedryl because her spells bring doom to his enemies. I heal his wounds because he protected me. And I still would if he failed to do so. She holds her hand out for Xalith to raise, intentionally blocking Sarith's best shot. Now if you want to stab me, do so now. Sarith is too weak to chase you down. Or you can leave without further fight, and learn what friendship is. Your love is evidence enough that you know what true affection is. Nilvae then turns and approaches Sarith going by him. We should join the others, my friend. You need rest.

Galdar Bloodskull Duergar 'Psion' AC: 19 HP: 21/38 MP: 39/39 PP: 15 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 San: 14 Spell Slots, 1st: 3/4, 2nd: 3/3, 3rd: 1/2 Sorcery Points: 1/4 Conditions: Telepathic Bond (Faedryl) Concentration: - The Duergar transforms into a cloud of black vapor that quickly leaves Ront's reach and let's him flee up into the crow's nest. Do that again and I will destroy your mind until there is no sanity left in that thick skull of yours. the duergar growls. Now if you fancy a contest we can brawl or arm wrestle later. he says, fully intending on cheating. Spoiler Show Misty Step away.

Stool Myconid Druid AC: 15 (bucket armor) HP: 38/44 MP: ??/?? PP: 16 PIv: 9 PIs: 13 San: 12 Conditions: Fungal Infestation (Drow Soldier Zombie 1hp, 1h) Concentration: Healing Spirit Want Stool to read her mind, yes? the myconid inquires from Faedryl.

[RandomWombat]

ALADIN

Descending belowdeck, ALADIN moves through the murk of the sunken ship's guts. Blood still hangs like a haze in the water. Trawling it for anything of value, he finds a galley, a crew quarters, a cargo hold, and a locked door into a captain's quarters. The large chamber where the slaves row holds nothing noteworthy of value.

In the galley, he finds barrels of cooking oil. Though the barrels' treatment has held up to the moisture all around, the lids have floated just off of the wooden rings. Trails of oil drift into the water, further polluting the visibility. Soggy foodstuffs and mundane cooking tools are all he finds, at first, until he locates a couple of stoppered glass bottles in a cabinet that have survived, filled with deep, dark red fluid. Occasional glimmers of color flutter through it like an aurora.

The crew quarters is divided by sex. The mens' side is far more spartan, with hammocks and a lack of footlockers. The womens' quarters does feature locked footlockers for personal effects, alongside more comfortable cots built into the ship structure. In this case, only two of the footlockers are in use. With plenty of time on his hands, ALADIN is able to pry them open. Inside he finds soggy, ruined toilet paper, pouches of coins, and a few small trinkets.

Within the cargo hold, where the gaping hole in the bottom of the shop lie, he finds that many of the crates have fallen out into the surrounding lakebed. Forcing a few open, he finds mainly dried goods and supplies.

Lastly, he comes to the captain's quarters. There is a lock on the door, engraved in spidery elvish runes. Drow script. He does not recognize what it says.

Spoiler: Insight DC 10

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The runes on the lock may be part of a magical ward or defense system.

Spoiler: Loot

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Spoiler: Galley

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2 bottles of dark red fluid with an aurora inside

Spoiler: Arcana DC 15

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The fluid matches descriptions of bottled dragon's blood. It has uses in alchemy, and regular consumption supposedly improved the potency of an arcane caster's magic. There are no significant studies on those claims, but the wealthy and magically inclined sometimes make use of it in cooking.

Spoiler: Crew Quarters

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97 gp, 74 sp in coin pouches
An embalmed starfish
A taxidermy kitten wearing a pirate hat
A folding hand fan
A clockwork crab that can fit in both palms

Faedryl

The helmsman thinks to himself. "I agree. If they've seen us speak, then I should go to Blingdenstone." Smoothing himself out, he asks, "May I travel with you to the next port? My name is Kethym. Darklake sailor by trade."

The Ships

"Bluster if you must, dark dwarf, but our sacred light shall scour away all foes! Hasten not to count yourself among them," the sword shouts back at Galdar as he slips away to the crow's nest. Everyone can hear it resonating inside of their heads, alerting anyone on the ships - willing or not - to the argument going on aboard the drow ship.

There is a clattering of a wooden haft against wooden deck. The kuo-toa marauder on the deck has a wide, fishlipped grin on his face. "Fibht! Fibht! Fibht!" he encourages raucously.

Some laughter follows from the pirate deck, as some of the crew emerge again from stowing their fallen. They bandage their wounds and salve their bruises while watching to see how the brewing brawl plays out. The acting captain leans on the railing and calls out to Borthan, "You, in charge of the freed slaves?" he asks. "We can take any is no room for, who's willing to fight. Hunt mostly duergar slavers but won't turn away drow slaves who want a piece."

East Cliff

Staring up at Nilvae, the drow woman knits her brow and endures the lashing of words with as much attention as a zoned out teenager listening to a teacher rattle off. "You talk too much," the agent says, standing up on her own - though she does not shrug off the hands of her mage-lover. "I don't hate your drow... friend," she adds, "I simply-"

Any further conversation is cut off as Nilvae begins coughing and gagging. Urlyn tuts his tongue. "I warned you. Be careful what you put in your mouth when someone could be watching," he cautions, stepping forward and slapping Nilvae on the back. "Come on. Cough it up!"

Xalith grabs her by the shoulders, "Open her mouth," she curtly instructs her lover, who follows the direction, forcing Nilvae's mouth open with his hands. The agent extends a finger and jabs it precisely into the back of Nilvae's throat, causing her to reflexively vomit.

The source becomes clearer when she begins to vomit up dozens of tiny spiders. Through a still-clogged throat, Nilvae struggles to breathe as tiny shapes continue to crawl around her esophagus and threaten to invade her airways. Her throat and tongue begin to swell from their venomous bites, but not badly enough to close entirely.

Spoiler: OOC

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Unfortunately, Lolth was paying attention. Nilvae was cursed with Throat Spiders for badmouthing her.

Nilvae risks 7 poison damage from tiny spider bites, but passes a save for half damage (3) and avoids suffocation from a reaction to the venom. She may make a DC 10 Constitution save to cough up enough of the spiders to end the effect.

Urlyn Helps Xalith apply a Medicine check, which gives her Advantage.

[Archmage1]

RONT Orc Brute Fighter AC: 17 HP: 33/60 PP: 11 PIv: 9 PIs: 11 Sanity: 10 Conditions: Concentrating: Ront looks up, his eyes tracking the cowardly dwarf as he flees. "Coward. Call names, flee when challenged." His call is mocking, and quite clearly conveys Ront's opinion of the dwarf. However, his attention is brought to the quiet shuffling of the released slaves, and he pauses for a moment, looking to see if anyone else had any interest in them.

ALADIN Autognome Artificer AC: 19 HP: 48/51 PP: 15 PIv: 18 PIs: 13 Sanity: 10 Conditions: Concentrating: Walking through the sunken wreck of the ship, ALADIN can't help but to note the many inefficiencies of the drow. Why have their paper in rolls? Notes were important, but if their minds were not capable of remembering then a proper journal would have been far more durable. However, after searching the rest of the ship for objects of interest, ALADIN reaches the captain's quarters, and tries the door. Locked. Reconfiguring his trust crowbar into a series of more delicate tools, suitable for picking locks, he gets to work, attempting to simply unlock the door, although simply prying it open remained an option should the more subtle approach fail. Spoiler: OOC Show (1d20+7)[24] Thief tool check? (If int can be used instead of dex, +4 to that)

[RandomWombat]

ALADIN

Sliding the tool into the lock, ALADIN turns it carefully. With an artificer's precision, he slides the unlocking mechanisms into place, and feels a click. As the door unlocks, ALADIN feels a sudden jolt run through his body. It nearly overrides his motor signals, but ALADIN's body is not one of flesh and blood. Shutting down certain pathways, he is able to cause his leg to give out under him, which frees the multitool from the lock. The sigil does not seem to register the water as an intrusion, at least, and the current cuts out once he falls free.

White light still glows within the triggered sigil. Touching the door handle may set it off again.

Spoiler: OOC

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ALADIN successfully unlocks the door, but sets off a shock sigil. He takes 3 lightning damage, but passes his save against Paralysis, allowing him to let go of the door.

[Archmage1]

ALADIN Autognome Artificer AC: 19 HP: 48/51 PP: 15 PIv: 18 PIs: 13 Sanity: 10 Conditions: Concentrating: Detect Magic Shocked by the unexpectedly trapped door, ALADIN perseveres once he breaks the circuit, collecting a nice piece of non-conductive wood and using that to turn the handle and push open the door before pausing to examine the room before him for additional traps, and treasure. Spoiler: OOC Show Only 2 temp hp left now! (1d20+7)[8] Disable device (1d20+5)[13] Perception(Trap Seeking) (1d20+8)[26] Investigation(Loot seeking)

[RandomWombat]

ALADIN

ALADIN's attempts turn up short - not thanks to another electrocution, thankfully, but because the zurkhwood plank slips off of the door handle without successfully getting enough grip to turn it.

[Archmage1]

ALADIN Autognome Artificer AC: 19 HP: 48/51 PP: 15 PIv: 18 PIs: 13 Sanity: 10 Conditions: Concentrating: With the knob not turning, ALADIN retracts his poking stick before attempting to give it a bit more grip by using his anytool to cut some grooves into the turning end of the stick. Enhancement made, he then attempts to re-apply it. Spoiler: OOC Show (1d20+7)[16] Try 2, disable device(Assuming that the previously rolled trap/search rolls shall be used should he get in this time.)

[RandomWombat]

ALADIN

Carving a slot into the wood proves a bit more effective. Getting the slot onto the doorknob is not what one would call easy, but with careful handling ALADIN succeeds. Electrical current pulses through the zurkhwood plank and the water around him, but the indirect current is not as threatening to his motor functions. The door swings open and he tugs the improvised tool free.

Inside the captain's quarters is a large, more comfortable bed, a footlocker containing more pocket coin and soggy paper, and a chest containing clothes. They belong to both a woman and a man. There is a large jewelry box nestled into the clothing, with another, smaller and more delicate, lock on it.

Spoiler: OOC

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ALADIN takes 7 lightning damage from the opening process, but the plank protects him from the Paralysis chance.

Spoiler: Loot

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90 gp, 78 sp
A large, locked jewelry box.

[Archmage1]

ALADIN Autognome Artificer AC: 19 HP: 43/51 PP: 15 PIv: 18 PIs: 13 Sanity: 10 Conditions: Concentrating: Shocked once more as his precautions were inadequate, ALADIN pushes past the inconvenience, and searches the room beyond, collecting a modest amount of gold as well as the large, locked, and trapped jewelry box. Afterwards, he departs the interior of the ship with his collection of loot in hand, checking for the undead fey creature before he heads towards the surface to reveal what he had gleaned from the wreckage. Spoiler: OOC Loot Show 2 bottles of dark red fluid(Probably potions, but may not be magical?) 187 gp, 152 sp in coin pouches An embalmed starfish A taxidermy kitten wearing a pirate hat A folding hand fan(Magical, Evocation) A clockwork crab that can fit in both palms(Magical, Transmutation) A large, locked jewelry box.(Probably trapped, Necromancy. Contains something magical, with illusion)

[purepolarpanzer]

Borthan Zuek Half-Drow Ranger AC: 17 HP:22/53 22/29 MP 0 Temp HP PP: 14 PIv: 9 PIs: 14 Sanity:12 Conditions: Concentrating on: 0 of 5 d10 HD. Spell Slots- 4/4 1st, 2/2 2nd Borthan moves to the side of the Manta, calling up one of his surviving marauders and two of the deck hands or rowers. "That's the best part, you idjits- you're free. And I've got better news- this ship is hiring crew. The work would be much the same as you were doing, but with a lot less abuse and a lot more payment. We've lost some rowers and some hands, and I'd rather not limp back to port after all this damage. Our next stop is the tavern in the center of the Dark Lake- once we get there, your fate is yours- either stay on as a free worker, or take a bit of payment for rowing us home and seek your fate among more civilized members of the 'Dark." He slapped the marauder on the back, then gestured to his galley-man. "Tell 'em how much nicer things have been since we took over." Leaning into the marauder, he began to whisper in it's fishy, froggy ear. "We've got plans elsewhere- we won't be commanding this boat forever. Someone is going to have to take over. Someone strong, who can see the crew through danger. Might be you. Might not be. Work hard and prove yourself, and the big hat could be yours..."

[Amnestic]

Faedryl Melad Drow Hexblade/Evoker AC: 17 HP: 23/40 MP: 14/31 PP: 13 PIv: 15 PIs: 13 Conditions: Exhaustion (1), 4 exp hit dice, THP: 10 Concentrating: Detect Magic Arcane Recovery: 0/2. Hexblade Curse: Exp. Slots:- Pact: 0/1 1st: 0/4 2nd: 0/3 3rd: 2/2 "We're due back to Smuggler's Cove after this. You can join us until then - there should be ample opportunities to find another path from there."

Sarith Kzerkarit Drow Fighter/Phantom Rogue AC: 16 HP: 12/46 MP: 22/22 PP: 16 PIv: 11 PIs: 10 Conditions: 0/8 THP Concentrating: Whispers: 0/3 (PB/LR) Sarith watches Nilvae choke on spiders, and their former-enemies save her. He doesn't say anything - years has taught him better than to speak up when a Female makes a mistake.

[RandomWombat]

ALADIN

Emerging from below with a few new scorch marks, ALADIN finds that the strange creature is still lingering upon the deck, draining something from the sunken remains delivered by the eels. Given his past discussion with the creature, he gets the sense that it may be the soul residue - the same lingering imprint that allows spells such as Speak With Dead or lower grade resurrection to function.

Swimming back up to the ship is a daunting task, since ALADIN does not float very well. Ascending could expend a large amount of time and energy.

Spoiler: Skill Checks

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The same convenience that allows him to walk around on the underwater ship is a bit of an issue for getting back up. It will be an Athletics check at DC 18 to swim to the surface with a brute force method. Since he has plenty of time to work with he is assumed to succeed eventually, and so every 5 by which he fails to meet the DC inflicts a level of Exhaustion instead.

If ALADIN has alternative ideas or ways to make the check easier, feel free to float them.

Borthan

Clapping a palm on the marauder's shoulder, Borthan finds the fish scales a bit oily. At his proposal, the marauder looks over the freed slaves. They're fit - they would make poor rowers if the drow allowed them to starve and wither away. "Guidte a few obf dem," the kuo-toa squelches, thoughtfully listening to Borthan's hushed proposal. "Omly need a few to reblace de losses on the Black Manta," care and reverence, as always, is given to the ship's name. "Bud, we bwill need sombwun do row de prize vessel back fer selling," he motions up at Ilvara's ship. It's not exactly in prime condition, but with its enchanted materials they should still get a sizeable price for it. "Den, dey rest could gedt demselves hired on sommere else at the Surly Siren."

One of the slaves speaks up to say, "Many of us have never been on our own before..." unspoken goes the implication that freedom, while hopeful and bright, is also a frightening and unfamiliar notion. These men are likely uneducated and inexperienced in much besides manual labor. "Who will be... hired on, by you?" there are jealous and guarded looks cast between the fellows who moments ago were shackled to one another, some of whom will soon escape that uncertainty.

"Offer is still open, anyone. Once we pick up our crew and get there," the orog pirate reminds the slaves.

Faedryl

"It will do, you have my thanks," the helmsman nods. "It would be dangerous to travel alone. There is one of the crossbowmen, name of Gelzer. Has a gap in his left eyebrow," he traces a fingertip through his eyebrow, in example. "I do not know the others well, but he's reasonable. Was considering recruiting him to the cause - if you spare him the knife and let him know his name was on my lips to live, I think I could bring him into the fold. And I could take of any freed slaves you don't intend to bring with you. Teach them something about surviving outside servitude," he proposes.

[Archmage1]

ALADIN Autognome Artificer AC: 19 HP: 43/51 PP: 15 PIv: 18 PIs: 13 Sanity: 10 Conditions: Concentrating: With the search through the boat finished, ALADIN walks past the strange creature as he heads towards the nearby cliff. As the wood the ship was made of did not float, he would not be able to convert it into an emergency flotation device as he had originally planned, but scaling the cliff should be simple enough in the water. Spoiler: OOC Show (1d20+5)[13] Perception?(If useful for avoiding danger and finding a good route up) (1d20+2)[8] Athletics(Attempting to climb.)

[RandomWombat]

ALADIN

Ascending the cliffside does prove a much more achievable endeavor. Here the water, and what little buoyancy there is in ALADIN, offer more aid than hindrance. There is the little matter of time, but the ship above shows no signs of leaving him behind.

As luck would have it, ALADIN comes across a small hole in the cliff wall as he ascends. Inside is a nest of small, freshwater shellfish, three of which hold up their pincers in warning as he appears. A mostly empty threat, as a few nicked fingers is all he would need to repair from their assault. Inside of their nest he can see that they've stashed away some shinies they found - a pile of coins the colors of which he cannot yet make out in his Darkvision. He could scoop them into a bag if he wished.

Whether he plunders the fishes' fortune or not, the rest of the climb is uneventful, until be reaches the surface onto a soggy ledge of stone near the base of the cliffs. From here the others are within waving and shouting distance.