[Game Thread] Chapter 1: The Windrider

[LupusRegalis]

Tagus looks at the Captain and his second while he mulls over the choice. In the end, his caution won out, the scales tipped by the fact that when at sea, it's best to have your wits about you. "It'll be Ale for me, boyo's." He glances at his companions to see what their own choices would be.

[Lint of Death]

"Rum," Ruzor announces. "Obviously."

This day just kept getting better!

[djm]

Den, looking to the cabinet nervously, growled in his low bass, "Er... Ale for me." As large as he was, too much alcohol got to him pretty fast. "A drunk half-dragon pyromaniac is not your friend on a big wooden ship." And, unlike many other half-dragon pyromaniacs alive, he had dedicated his life to learning to use his fire... This meant that, while many would have merely burped out a line of fire, a full-on fireball is what would have escaped from his jaws.

He'd gotten kicked out of taverns before for this very reason... Well, if enough had been left standing to get kicked out of.

[Nocturnal]

"For me, good enough, ale be. De crew, or de winners, to reward rum savin' be mon?" Elran says, well aware of how sparingly rum was often used as an incentive at sea. "Vote be we takin'?"

After a moment of consideration he adds, "Of de waves, sloshin', some say, easier drunken-spin make a-shipboard. For mos', worse it makin', tink I do."

[Mike]

"I'll take the path more travelled: ale it is. Sorry, Ruzor." The wizard hoped to catch a glimpse of the ship's dice, trying to judge just how difficult it would be to introduce the table to his own "lucky dice".

[Lint of Death]

"Looks like Merric an' I are the only sensible ones aboard," Ruzor quips with disappointment, before a realization strikes him. "More for us, then!"

[Phil]

"Sorry mate." Rolen says to Ruzor, as he pours ale into pewter goblets. "We all drink the same drink, and ale gets the nod."

Stephen looks disappointed in the direction of the conversation, and seems terribly bored with the talk of Gratt. "Master." the young mage says quietly as the others prattle on about alcohol, coins, and dice, "Do you mind if I take your spellbook back to my bunk while you play? I'd like to study that ritual a bit more."

Jasper, placing the last shining copper plate neatly in a row with the others, seems eager to take his leave as well, hastily heading up the stairs and onto the deck above without a word.

"Merric." Fabian says, taking a stern, fatherly tone. "Here." He points to the chair next to him, and Rolen moves in beside the halfling. "And you're here Kavil." as he gestures to the seat on his other side. "No shenanigans this time, boys, me and Rolen have got our eyes on you." Looking to the passengers, he waves his hand across the table. "You lot can sit wherever you like. You boys sure you want to do this now?"

Rolen counts out a several red, green, and yellow chips, and start making piles values at 250 for each of the crew. It seems it's time for our heroes to pay in the 1000 gold they agreed to stake on the game. The captain and the Garrows start passing around the small wooden cups with the tiny ivory dice inside, as well as the ale-filled goblets. Archaemaelon notes the dice are nearly identical to the enchanted dice in his pocket, but he'd need to be Thievery Checksubtle to make the switch without Rolen noticing. The elf doesn't seem to miss much afterall, and the old man's gnarled fingers aren't as quick as they used to be. Best to distract the elf somehow.

 

You can sit where you'd like (see Battlestations)

The Garrows won't likely care if they see Archie switch the dice, and the captain's perception isn't terribly high. Rolen's is though, and the odds of him spotting an inept slight-of-hand from Archaemaleon are very, very high. You'll want to get him to look away before you try it, or do something else reasonably clever.

Yes, everyone will be drinking the same thing. The rum is still likely in the pantry, if Ruzor wants to try to sneak some after everybody's gone to bed.

[djm]

Knowing that the old wizard's fingers weren't particularly deft and also that the elf's eyes were pretty good, Den grinned on the inside. They needed a distraction and he was happy to provide. Walking to behind where the elf was, Den hoped that his ploy worked... But saw no reason that it wouldn't.

Dabbing two fingers in his ale and wiping it on his tongue to just barely dampen it with the liquid, Den smacked his lips and asked the table, "Hey, all, want to see a party trick?" Taking one of the deepest breaths he could, Den hoped that the sound of a half-dragon (and possibly half-mad) pyromaniac about to breath fire on a ship afloat would be enough to make even the preoccupied Rolen look back at him in distress... Yeah, Den thought happily, I love being in charge of the distractions!

[Lint of Death]

Ruzor grumbles.

"Now I remember why I hate this game," He says. "All the lily-livered pussyfooters insist on ale."

[Phil]

Den, by all appearances, is about to spot flame in the middle of a wooden ship at sea. Whether or not he actually intends to do so doesn't seem relevant to Rolen, who is thoroughly convinced by the ruse. A chair screeches against the floor; the dragonborn feels something 6 damage, slowedstrike against his leg, knocking him off balance, then a 6 damage, pronesecond strike takes his other leg out from under him. His jaw slams against the floor, and a booted foot is resting against his head, holding his jaws shut against the galley floor.

"Rolen!" Fabian shouts. "Let him up."

The boot steps aside. Den can't help but think how much more that might have hurt if Rolen had used his swords for that, as he sits up, an ache developing in his leg. Rolen just frowns at Den, while the captain leaves his chair and crouches by Den's prone form. The captain puts on a stern expression, like a father about to spank a small child.

"Look son, I'm sorry we had to do that, but the fire thing's a rule we take real serious on this ship, alright? This was your warning. You do that again, and your friends here are going to need to find some new artillery. Do you understand?" Fabian holds a hand out to Den to help him up, apparently unaware of the dragonborn's ulterior motives.

While Den got a bit banged up, the ruse appears to work as intended. Both the captain and the first mate are distracted enough to allow Archaemaleon to switch his boring die for the enchanted one in his pocket.

[Nocturnal]

"Me, excusin' mon, an' trade-moneys, be bringin'." Elran says as he returns to the passenger cabin and his pack in the chest, a moment before Den gets up to make his diversion. He mumbles to himself as he fishes a heavy purse out of it. The thugs of Gustov and Boss Bloom had been gambling over a formidable pile of gold, platinum, and jewelery worth about 3,000 coins of gold in total. The old wizard had divided it up and insisted he take his share, a collection of baubles and coins worth about 600, including a gold-plated pocket watch on a chain, which has stopped ticking and needs to be wound up. Elran tucks this rare treasure back into an inner pocket of his pack, and not quite certain of the value of the rest, brings the whole purse back to the table.

He is a little surprised to see Den on the floor on his return, and narrows his eyes at the scene, but shrugs. No doubt he deserved it for some reason. Elran thinks, and upends the purse. "Dis, for we an' me an' Ruzor enough be?" He pours the treasures out on the table, catching a loose emerald in his hand as it tries to roll away, and pushing it back into an orderly heap. His eyes flick between the eyes of everyone else in the room as theirs turn to the treasures - those few that are not still fixed on Den and Rolen, that is. To Ruzor he says, "Seed be planted - time an' water given, sun an' no salt... flower growin', fruit be bearin', seeds returnin'. Concern no have I mon: when needed, seed you return, know I. Share an' share alike."

 

OOC Ruzor should also have gotten a 600gp share of the warehouse loot, as did we all, but he seems to have misplaced it, so I can loan him what he needs for his buy-in. Archie has a Prestidigitation cantrip he could easily have used to help him swap the dice too, by the by. They can render a small object invisible or create an illusion... no doubt enough of a boon to give him a bonus to his Thievery check as he places an invisible enchanted die near the real one and leaves an illusion of the real die in place as he pockets it, until he covers both with a cup or a hand and lets both illusions dissipate.

[LupusRegalis]

"Den? What are you..." Tagus starts then shuts up, watching Rolen handle Den with professional curiosity. He has to admit, he's impressed, Rolen handled that quickly and cleanly without permanent harm to anyone or the ship. It's exactly the kind of thing the Marines would use to keep a recruit or particularly stone-headed Marine in line. He gives Rolen a nod of respect and says, not altogether as a joke "You ever thought about being a Marine?!"

Tagus slips out his portion of the smugglers gold, already counted out into the required 200gp, and places it on the table before him. He blinks however, when Elran dumps the majority of his own share out into view. With a sigh and a, not nervous but concerned glance around the room, he leans over and says to Elran "Uh, maybe you shouldn't show all that at once, like that, here, in front of the crew..." Maybe the crew were disciplined enough, maybe they were more afraid of the group or their Captain...but gold could do strange things to men. And Tagus isn't entirely convinced this Fabian is an honest merchant, he's too well equipped with an extremely skilled crew.

Shrugging, he returns his attention to Captain Fabian and says "Captain, if you're done with Den, you want to get this started?"

 

Next to Rolen is fine for seating, for Tagus.
Round 1 check: Perception vs. Cheating, 9 (shoulda stuck with passive, LOL)

[djm]

Standing up with a groan, Den stumbled over to the older wizard's chair and pretended to lean over in pain... What he really did was whisper, "You owe me for that one..." Seeing the various stares in his direction, Den shuffled over to the nearest seat he could find, breathing out sharply as he sat. That was going to hurt... Hopefully none of his scales had been dirtied in the fall. Even the individual ones took forever to clean!

Sighing, Den knew he'd have some explaining to do once the game was over for those who didn't know that his 'firebreathing attempt' was really a distraction for the enchanted die to get switched with the regular one. Besides, they didn't know it yet, but he could breath fire at will... He didn't need a bottle of ale to help him.

[Phil]

Originally Posted by LupusRegalis

"You ever thought about being a Marine?!"

Rolen's normally expressionless face cracks with a glimmer of a smile, just the slightest upturn of the lips at the corner. "Couldn't afford the paycut." he says. From his seat next to the elf, Tagus can see a subtle sign of the man's past: holes, long since healed shut, along the side of his pointed ears, and the slightest hint of blue ink vanishing into his hairline, a tattoo which would only be visible on a shaven head. Before Nerath had consolidated and organized the naval forces of the coastal city-states, the sea was ruled by pirates who used tattoos and piercings to indicate rank and fleet affiliation. Today's pirates are less organized: if Rolen was a pirate, he began his career quite some time ago, but of course elves have longer lifespans than men.

Originally Posted by LupusRegalis

"Captain, if you're done with Den, you want to get this started?"

"Let's do it." Fabian bellows. By now, everyone has chips in front of them: 250 before each of the crew playing and 200 in front of each of our heroes. Archaemaleon was able to swap his enchanted die for the mundane one during Den's painful distraction. "Standard ante, 32" the captain notes, as he tosses a single chip into the center of the table. Merric does the same, as does Rolen, then Tagus and the rest of our heroes, then Kavil. After tossing in their ante, they each take a long pull on their ale, draining about a fourth of the large goblet.

"All right, roll em!" The captain and the rest of the crew place their die in their wooden cups, shake the cups several times, then slap the cup, top down, on the table. The crew peers through the small windows on their cups to see what they rolled. Rolen keeps an eye on Merric, making sure he rolls properly.

 

Roll 1d6 in secret tags in the dice thread to determine your roll. Archie can roll 2d6 and pick the higher roll, due to his magic die (I'll roll this for him, as he is away). You may take an action (perception check, cheating, whatever) at this time. Roll your endurance check as well, against DC 10, as your first drink of ale.

Note to Tagus: it's not relevant, since you didn't exceed your passive score, but a perception or insight spot-check needs to be focused on an individual. You still apply your normal passive score to incoming attempts, and your passive still remains in effect against your target, in other words, you lose nothing but you action for doing so.

[LupusRegalis]

Tagus chuckles in appreciation of Rolen's quip and raises the mug to his lips, enjoying the ale as it slides down his throat. He'd learned long-ago he had to take care when drinking, he enjoyed it to much. Which is why he rarely drank while at sea, and especially when on duty. But he did enjoy it. He flips his ante into the pot, then lowers the mug and wipes the foam away with his arm and lets out a Endurance check: 19sigh of pleasure.

Putting the mug down he mimics Captain Fabian and the other crew members. He drops the dice in and then gives the cup a hearty shake. With a light grunt he slams the cup down on the table and listens as the dice bounce around inside. He turns the cup so he can peak through its window, keeping his face blank as if he were in formation being chewed out by his old drill instructor.