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  #31  
Old 07-06-2019, 07:51 PM
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~~~Below Deck~~~
Lienna rolls her eyes. "There's a lot of pretty women in the world, Pembroke, and not all of them are carrying twice their weight in trouble. An' I know who she is, more or less. Though ah do believe she's overstated her connections, or Grondahl would have pulled some strings to get the price off her head." She pauses. "You did know she's a wanted woman, right? Not that I'm suggesting we turn around and turn her in--even if we weren't in our own pile of trouble, ah don't think she deserves that. Ah am sayin, tho, that havin her around is gonna make all our lives more complicated. Best keep that in mind."

~~~Above Deck~~~
As Lienna lowers the tools to Montague, her eyes are on the storm. They're not heading as directly for it, but she'll still need to take the wheel soon to avoid it. In fact, she'd just as soon turn around completely--the course she'd set hadn't been for any particular destination, serving only to get them away from the dock as fast as possible so they wouldn't be boarded. The port she has in mind is more or less in the opposite direction.

But if the Dragonflies have a ship ready to pursue the Rose-Thorn, then they may not have that luxury. Lienna closes her eyes, trying to think what would be the nearest port based on their current heading, if it comes to that...

Well, before any of that, they've got to sort out the rudder, and get their mechanic back on deck safely. When the goblin calls to be pulled up, Lienna heaves on the ropes to bring him back aboard. His small size is quite a boon in that regard.
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  #32  
Old 07-08-2019, 03:37 PM
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Habakuk stood up and turned, surprised at seeing Lienna behind him on the deck when she had just been below. Too hasty by half all in all. He trodded over sluggishly, determined to catch up with her this time. "Oh Monty, I thought you might be sunbathing. Everything alright with the paddle steery thingy?"

The Mennoam turned to Lienna then, since he was not above relaying orders twice or maybe even three times. "There was some talk about taking this ship to port. Now the way I see it we just started, but with what little food we have we might not make it very far."

The topic enlivened him in an obvious way. Why he was almost talking at regular speed. "If we want to eat. I mean really eat they won't last three four days."

That prompted him to face the dark clouds that they were in a general sense heading towards before continuing. "Sky's large, right? How long you think before we can get some real supplies? By the by, am I the Purser of this ship too? I haven't seen any money yet."
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Old 07-10-2019, 04:09 PM
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The large pillar of the storm looms large as The Rose-Thorn continues to pace ahead. Yet, it is moving away from the direction that Ani directed Montague to steer, albeit slowly. Whether she read the storm's movements or was just lucky remains a mystery. As Montague comes back over the railing from his foray overboard, the entire crew is suddenly all together in one place ... with no imminent doom lurking nearby. It is a strange crew, and small, but if results are to be believed, it is a capable crew. There is a little rough sailing to go, as the storm still lurks, but otherwise the open sky lies before them; the constraints of the Imperial life lie behind. With a moment to breath, the crew of the Rose-Thorn take a look around to gather their bearings.

The Rose-Thorn cuts a path through the open air. Below her, heavy cloud cover obscures everything including the omnipresent misty smoke of the surface world. Dense clouds like those are dangerous for a pilot, where islands can spring out of the gloom in an instant. Only the best navigators dare to venture out in such conditions and usually do so at a crawl.

Up at the level of Sellaine, however, the view is spectacular as islands dot the range of vision in most directions - although Sellaine itself and the stormcloud obscure view in their respective directions. The light, puffy clouds are nearly stagnant up here and even when one obscures an island, a shadow gives away the danger hidden within. The Rose-Thorn bears her crew onward, slowly escaping the shadow of the stormcloud. Suddenly, and blindingly, she thrusts her wards into the gaze of the sun, the warmth washing over the crew. Here the sun shines bright and the deck of The Rose-Thorn is basked in blinding warmth.

Silhouettes of ships also speckle the sky. Most of the activity - that is not focused on the stormcloud - is near the Sellaine docks, but ships that either have yet to arrive or have recently departed can be seen as well. Many dozens of floats are within view with another dozen or so skiffs scattered around. There are even a few sails in the far distance, although far from the concern of The Rose-Thorn. For now, this close to Sellaine, there is little to worry about besides the pursuit from behind.
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  #34  
Old 07-11-2019, 01:42 PM
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"Wont those delivery men be looking for us?" By now Habakuk had gathered that they had been pursued for other reasons, but he was not ready to give up his pretence yet. On the one hand in his experience it always paid to be seen as inoffenisve and simple, something that was along the lines of Mennoam philosophy, and on the other hand it actually helped give himself peace of mind. As far as his questions went this was one that he'd really wouldn't mind having answered, even if all the others were ignored. The closed lines of communication made him feel like the odd man out, or the least experienced sailor amongst them. The last would probably be true anyway.

"Pretty," he cooed at the marvellous sight. "Sad we have to go. Where are we going?" It was a not so subtle nudge that they should probably pick up speed and ultimately pick a destination - preferably somewhere the long hand of the Emerald Dragonflies, if there even was such a place. "Are we pirates now?"
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  #35  
Old 07-13-2019, 12:43 AM
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With Montague back on deck, Lienna heads back to the wheel and begins to undo the ropes that had held them on course. There is not much left to undo; they were never meant to be a long-term solution, and the manuever with the rudder has loosened them quite a bit. With her hands firmly on the wheel, Lienna is ready to turn her attention to the next step--figuring out where they are even going.

"We ain't pirates." Lienna glances back towards Sellaine proper, then out over the horizon. She winces at the glare, as they have left behind the comforting shade of the upper islands. "Not unless we start preyin' on other ships. Which, moral concerns aside, don't strike me as particularly tactical. We ain't particularly equipped for that."

Her face sours slightly. "Or much of anything, really. Seems we're dangerously low on most necessities; we won't get very far before we need to stop and resupply. Now, ah know a few ports where we can do that--if we've got the money. Which I'm guessing we don't." She glances to Pembroke, then back to Habakuk, and finally to Montague. "So unless someone's got an idea to make some, our options are pretty limited."
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  #36  
Old 07-15-2019, 08:34 AM
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Free? Or stuck?
"Oh Monty, I thought you might be sunbathing. Everything alright with the paddle steery thingy?"

Although Montague would never admit to doing anything less than working his hardest (it was the way he was raised), and was slightly wounded by his friend’s suggestion that he was simply soaking up rays, Habakuk couldn’t be blamed for jumping to conclusions. Ever since the … incident at the factory Montague had been, well, laying low, hiding amongst the rest of the goblin population in the undercity, back where his family had first started before they'd moved up in Sellaine, up into the light. He’d been too preoccupied and anxious to realize how much he missed the sun until he sees her again. The sudden, warm wash of the sun finds the goblin folded up awkwardly in the bucket Lienna’s hoisting up -- it had looked large enough for his small frame to slip into but had proven a tighter squeeze than he had imagined. Body pleasantly sore from the exertions of improvised steering, mind happily buzzing after the challenge of repairing a machine he’s barely familiar with using tools that his family’s factory would have tossed out as scrap, Montague is, momentarily, happy and relaxed. Heat and light have banished the anxiety from a moment before, and as the bucket clears the railing, any crew looking at him find eyes closed, head lolled back, lazy smile on his face. Feeling free. The Mennoam’s assumption was therefore only natural.

"Rudder, old friend. The ‘paddle steery thingy’ is called a rudder." Montague’s tone is more pedantic than he’d usually take with his childhood friend; that Lienna woman who’s just pulled him up had seemed to see right through his inexperience with ships, and he's at pains to impress her. "And though I’ll want to strengthen the repairs at some point, what I’ve done should hold her for the near future, and as I’m sure you’ve noticed" an olive branch for his earlier dig "plenty of other repairs are needed."

Montague allows himself a further few moments of relaxation -- the few times he’s been on an airship have mostly been pleasure cruises, and so there’s an ingrained instinct already placed to fight against his usual work-ethic. He doesn’t begin to extricate himself from the bucket until Lienna begins the discussion of what to do next, and her glance at Montague after "if we've got the money. Which I'm guessing we don't." finds him bent over, twisting around at an awkward angle to attempt to yank the bucket off his posterior, but the harder he pulls the tighter it seems squeezed around him, like those woven goblin toys he'd gotten his fingers stuck in as a child.

"Money? Well, er, I have some small -- I mean, er, my family -- how am I so stuck in this thing? But my family, er we, uh, yes. We’ve got some. There it goes … coming off at last....maybe. Guess not. Money. I mean, my parents definitely have lots. Of money. And they’d -- give me some more, er, likely give me some, if I -- MANA TAKE THIS INFERNAL RECEPTACLE. Someone help, ple---" and now he is not just metaphorically off balance but literally, and crashes awkwardly to the deck, the force of the collision wedging him even deeper into the bucket, which spins around for a few seconds on its edge like a coin rattling.

His physical struggles have a silver lining: they’ve given him something to green skinned goblins blush an almost turquoise hueblush about other than the awkwardness he feels when discussing his family’s wealth and his access to it, and after an exasperated sigh he finally manages to get a coherent point across "I have a small amount of funds with me, that could cover some essentials. Anything larger I’d need to be in touch with my parents for. Now it appears I need some assistance extricating myself from this, this, blasted cannister."
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Old 07-16-2019, 06:33 PM
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PembrokeBroke took the brief respite to make sure he is presentable. Scraps of pitchy straw were stuck to his coat, and his hat had deformed when he fell under the gangplank. Hat in hand, he returns to the bridge and fiddles with his hat, to make sure the rim maintains just the right curvature.

Habakuk asks about piracy, and Pembroke takes it in stride. In fact, it's Lienna's forceful denial that gets a reaction. "See here now. We shan't be making any decisions willy-nilly. For: what IS piracy, really? I wouldn't want anyone probing my lineage too deeply, if they'll take a dogmatic view of these things. Every time calls for its own measures, and the wise man will seize on the opportunities that come before him. That's the way to raise one's lot in life. One either claws their way up, or gets clawed, you know."

Now that Ani and Montague and Lienna focused on keeping the storm off their bow, Pembroke can once again ignore any practicalities of the ship. He wishes he had a cane in hand so that he could stroll with proper style. He grabs a belaying pin and considers it. It's narrower and shorter than a club, but it has a pleasant shape and heft. He shrugs and taps it along the rail as he meanders, like using a blackjack as a walking stick.

"We must stop and converse, as soon as we're sure we've lost any pursuit. As we all can see, we lack resources. Our first goal must be to acquire them. I would expect no less - the Rose-Thorn is not a charity, and you all deserve just reward.

"But knowing WHAT we need first, and how desperately you all demand a return on your investment in the ship, may determine what our next step is. If we wish to make a long-term investment in the sound footing of this little venture, then we ought find supplies first. Some little outpost where prices are low and vendors are naive. But if the crew demands a quick return - I would not hold it against them! - then we may need to hew closer to what some might call piracy. There are more than enough serf-trodding mana-sucking absentee Lords in Varsha with ill-manned pleasure barges. I'm sure that with a good plan and an eye towards discretion, we could lighten their treasuries and line our pockets without anyone becoming too exercised about the specter of 'piracy'."

"We need priorities, so says I. After that, plans will follow. We must all sit and toast our healths, and understand the nature of our venture. After that, plans will flow like wine."
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  #38  
Old 07-18-2019, 10:09 AM
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Lienna expertly positions the Rose-Thorn to take advantage of the whipping winds at the outskirts of the raincloud. With a few adjustments to the few sails that actually remain somewhat functional from Ani, the ship catches the gusts perfectly and rockets forward. There is a bit of a bumpy exit from the raincloud's sphere and the speed and turbulence cause the wooden frame to vibrate violently, but at last the Rose-Thorn reaches the clear air. Lienna quickly navigates to an upper air current and most of the speed they have built is retained. The raincloud rapidly shrinks behind the companions.

Once in open air, it doesn't take too long before Lienna manages to find some kind of sync with The Rose-Thorn. It still takes some focus to maintain the stable, level flying environment that is most comfortable, but otherwise the surprising jolts and twists that had been so common immediately out of Sellaine are much less frequent and severe. The speed with which The Rose-Thorn is currently slicing through the air quickly puts a comforting distance between the fugitives and Sellaine. With the diminishing excitement caused by the uncertainty of staying upright and the rapidly decreasing likelihood of being followed comes the boredom and monotony of open sky flight. The question of what they are and where they are going is debated with very little immediate success. While The Rose-Thorn's speed was excellent for losing pursuers, it also rapidly thrust the crew away from the one constant in this region of Sky Realm: Sellaine. Before any plans can be truly made, their current location will need to be defined.

For those that have spent any time in extended air travel, it is a little simpler to find the interesting aspects - nothing in Sky Realm is stable, so mapping all the islands on a given day can only be done by direct observation. Most major islands have cartographers for exactly this purpose. The problem is, anyone that hasn't been to a sector of the Realms for a while will have completely outdated memories of the area. For those less accustomed to the nuances of this life, not a lot happens. Islands that the ship nears slowly grow larger and more defined, while those she passes slowly grow small and obscure. Of course that is when an island is in their direct route, which is not terribly often. There are usually about a dozen islands of various sizes and shapes in view at any time, but only one or two are in the direct route of the Rose-Thorn.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day drags on as the sun races across the sky above the racing Rose-Thorn below. Lienna keeps a straight and steady route to force any pursuit to know their exact trajectory and exceed their speed. It is midafternoon when it is finally determined that they can relax the concerns over pursuers. Any ship out searching with Sellaine as a home base will be turning around to call it a day. The escape is complete, at least for now.

A sudden shift in focus is finally allowable. Priorities as Brokey put it. The supplies are low. Funds are necessary for ... well, for anything. Yet one thing nags at one of them the most. Ani got a glimpse of the mana crystal that was inserted in the engine. She didn't say anything in the moment because they clearly needed to get airborne, yet the reaction within the engine chamber suggested that the crystal was not nearly as pure as it appeared at first glance. It is always difficult to assess engine crystals, but this could be a very limiting problem for their plans.

Meanwhile, The Rose-Thorn has been steadily pacing toward an island. Now that island has come into more substantial focus. It is fairly large, but there does not appear to be any air traffic. Islands like these are not uncommon in Lienna or Ani's experience - usually just a place inhabited by a tribe of some kind with no natural resources to draw the wealthy (or perhaps greedy).

OOCI leave it to you to decide whether to take a closer look or keep flying. Ani is the only one that would have noticed a potential issue with the mana crystal, but - since her life does depend on the ship staying afloat - I think we can assume she will say something even if Skep hasn't had a chance to post when the rest of you get a chance. If the others want to reference the mana problem, just be somewhat vague until we find out exactly what Ani has to say

 
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  #39  
Old 07-21-2019, 01:44 PM
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"So this is the fabled Rose-thorn, is it?" Ani asks, ambushing Pembroke by the rail as she slides casually down the backstay line. Her worn boots hit the deck of the ship with less of a thud and more of a crack. "Gotta be honest, I expected, hmm... something a little more befitting your standing. Why, one might think you're hard up! Especially if they found out that your ship didn't have, boy, sufficient supplies, or enough sailors to properly crew her, or the correct fuel source..."

"Yeeeaaaah, so that mana that the, uh, your bounty hunter friend put in the engine? That crystal looked dirty to me. I mean, it'll work, buuut..." she grimaces. "It won't burn through that much quicker, but, things are going to be, well... let's say, rather interesting around here while it does. It doesn't burn clean, and the leftover mana particulate creates a bit of localized magical instability. Of course, anybody who's worked on a ship should have been able to tell you that."

The woman furrows her eyebrows, giving Pembroke a pointed look. "Are you... are you absolutely sure you know what you're doing here?"
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Old 07-21-2019, 05:35 PM
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Lienna squints at the island in their path, trying to look for signs of development. Nothing, not even a proper dock as far as she can tell. Which doesn't mean they can't land the ship, if they have to; it just means the people here, if there are any, are unlikely to have fuel for them (even if they had the money to buy it with). Her first impulse is to steer away, look for something else, but she can't be sure they'll get a better chance. Besides, it's not up to her; it's one thing to take the lead when everyone else seems to be struggling to make up their minds, it's something else to cut them out of the decision making process entirely.

"I think this one's a dead end," she calls out, as loud as she can without shouting. "Don't seem likely we'll be able to refuel on that island up ahead, we should try one'a these others." She nods towards some of the distant silhouettes in the distance.
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Old 07-22-2019, 10:09 AM
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"Uuh, interesting. Is it very dangerous?" Habakuk was no stranger to magical instability, but for the moment he feigned at it being so while he looked out over the looming island in the distance and sucked on his teeth thoughtfully.

Shelving the question of whether to land or not land for a second the Mennoam turned and put on an innocent face as he posed a few carefully oblivious sounding questions: "So, aren't fuel crystals very expensive? With us not having any money, will we be able get any pure ones wherever we go? Now we're already running on some cut product, maybe we can fiddle with the engine to make it last longer? Could help keep our fuel costs low if we try to make the impure stuff palatable to our setup."

Finally he shrugged after having put the thought out there. "Then again I only know about cooking, though it is a bit like refining. A bit like alchemy. And a lot of things running under pressure."

Habakuk winked at Montague briefly, the only one that knew that he technically knew a good deal about working with mana. Then he turned his attention towards the question of passing this island by or not. "Rural place like this might be good to stock up on water. Good hunting maybe, who knows. I mean I can barely whip up a stew with the grub we have loaded on board - but if fuel is what you think we need first then we should probably find some floating rock with more civilisation on it."
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Old 07-22-2019, 04:09 PM
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Ani returns from beneath presumes to judge all the goings-on. She condescends,
Quote:
Originally Posted by Skep View Post
'Why, one might think you're hard up! Especially if they found out that your ship didn't have, boy, sufficient supplies, or enough sailors to properly crew her, or the correct fuel source..."
Pembroke raises his nose a half-inch and adjusts his spectacles in offense. "Of course a true IGNORAMOUS would think such things. But you, having been duly hired and made fully aware of the situation, like everyone else on this ship, understand our plight fully, now, don't you my dear?" He stresses the part that was intended to remind the stowaway of her cover story. For being a trained courtesan and blackguard, this Ani seems fairly inept at maintaining her ruse for more than a few moments. Sellanians have always been decadent.

She then continues to judge about the quality of the power source and the soundness of the plans. "I know that I've done what needed to be done. And I know that these fine folk around me are aboard because they are expert in their field. You slander them, to imply otherwise! Shocking! Lienna, the Navy has a position to deal with discipline, does it not? The Boseman? I shouldn't like to manage corporal punishment on the ship, but I must demand we keep a civil tongue as we speak of our mates! Habba-cook, you are managing our supplies, yes? You seem a calm sort. Perhaps you should manage man-power disputes as well. Have you experience doling out the Rod and the Lash?"

Brokey is seething at this point. Anyone with eyes and ears would know the state of the ship, and of Pembroke's finances. What point is Ani proving, sneaking aboard only to insult it all? Luckily the conversation takes a turn towards the practical, about the next destination. With a few minutes to recover himself, he adds his thoughts.

"I would agree that the wilderness might not best suit us. Civilization will have food and water, too. But it will also have the fuel and information we need to proceed beyond. Some exotic other-realm's Goldcatcher, where music rings and liquors flow and coin-purses jingle with opportunities for speedy enrichment. Apparently our accommodations are not suitable for the more delicate among us," he scowls again at Ani, "and we must upgrade if we are to maintain the level of luxury to which some of us have grown accustomed."
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Old 07-22-2019, 06:33 PM
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"Splendid pronounciation Sire. Best one yet," Habakuk commented as he was adressed, but soon after responded in the negative to the question. "Oh no, wouldn't like that one bit. Soft touch me. Honey Crumpet Oath. Do more ham, eh, no harm. Fresh ingredients, that sort of thing. Well, apart from Mama Lareys canned peaches from Sellaine. Somehow they beat even the freshest one plucked straight from the tree. Don't know how they do it Sire, I really don't, but they're addictive. Should pick some up when we have the chance. What was I talking about?"

The Mennoam slowly scratched himself behind the earhole with a long claw until he remembered what the matter at hand had been. Besides corporal punishment, that was. "Oh yes, thinking of canned peaches we should definitely seek out civilisation. Don't know what I was thinking suggesting a hunt. Then again some Boarmeat in a mushroom sauce, with cranberry jam on the side..."
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Old 07-23-2019, 09:45 AM
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Seize your priority in your claws
Quote:
We need priorities, so says I. After that, plans will follow. We must all sit and toast our healths, and understand the nature of our venture. After that, plans will flow like wine.
Montague can’t help but roll his eyes as Broke speechifies, but the peroration stubbornly sticks with him.

Priorities.

Until the last hour or two, Montague’s priority, by necessity, had been to escape Sellaine before being arrested for sedition and starting an uprising -- which, though he hadn’t intended to start a rebellion at that precise moment, he was still largely guilty of. But with Sellaine fading away into the distance, the immediate threat has dispersed as well, and he can again consider the bigger picture.

Montague has goals in joining the Rose-Thorn beyond merely ensuring his freedom: to make a name for himself beyond the manufacturing of his family, to show what goblins are capable, to find his lost homeland of Zembla, to perhaps, when the time was right, actually launch the uprising he was already wanted for. Properly, this time. But all of these had been vague background considerations until now. He had no actual plans to achieve any of them, but perhaps Brokey was right -- prioritise them first, understand what he was after, and then maybe his route forward would be clear.

These concerns occupy Montague so thoroughly that he’s barely present for the goings-on about the ship; he’s vaguely aware of the ‘dirty fuel’ discussion washing over him, and though Habakuk’s notion of fiddling with the engine to use it better gets filed away as a potentially interesting project his wink is completely missed.

It’s finally coming together in Montague’s head as Brokey climbs up onto his soapbox once more, this time to harangue Ani. If they can find Zembla, explore it, figure out what happened to it, then everything else will fall into place -- he’d get fame, no doubt. And reclaiming the ancestral homeland, or, heaven forfend, sharing stories of its destruction -- either one would be a natural rallying point for the goblins of Sellaine. But what happened to Zembla? Habakuk might have a clue, of course...and what caused the warming?

Wait, is Brokey threatening a lashing? What authority does he have for that? And of course he’s invoking ‘civility’, as the powerful always do to shield themselves from critique. Nobody is ever called out for being incivil to a goblin...but what’s that?!

Before Montague can insert himself into the argument, a detail of the deserted island catches his attention -- a large amount of the foliage seems to be turning brown, dying out. Is it warming up, like Zembla did? This could be the first clue! Just need to talk everyone into turning the ship to check it out…

But he’d just heard enough of the conversation to know the crew was mostly against it. Again, Brokey’s insipid cliches come back him, oddly pertinent to the situation at hand:

Quote:
Every time calls for its own measures, and the wise man will seize on the opportunities that come before him. That's the way to raise one's lot in life. One either claws their way up, or gets clawed, you know.
The rest of the crew enmeshed in conversation, it was an easy thing for Montague to seize the opportunity wheel, turning slightly to the island at first so as not to catch their attention, studying the island closely for any sign of what was causing the browning, any trace of a former civilization, like that of Zembla, that might once have flourished on the now desolate rock. There! Something moved in that tree there. Too large to be a bird...a little closer...it’s - oh my. Oh, my.

If the explosion of leafs and earsplitting squawk didn’t catch the crew’s attention, the jerk of the ship as Montague swerves sharply away from the island did. From their nest in a tree, two ... things sped toward the ship. They were, indeed, bigger than a bird, though they did have the head wings and claws of a bird, stapled incongruously to the body of a lion. The first pair of griffons was nearly upon the ship, with another pair just being roused by the cries of the first, as Montague raises the alarm.

"Uhhh, folks….island wasn’t as empty as it looked. Um, help! Someone? Somehow?"

One either claws their way up, or gets clawed, you know...


MechanicsOur kind and loving DM compelled Montague’s You can't go home again?! Just watch me! aspect, having him fly closer to the deserted island to try to figure out if it was warming up and dying, and if so, why, and attracted some attention in the process.

So, the bad news: we’ve got four angry griffons after us.

But Montague's got an extra fate point now, so
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Old 07-24-2019, 08:22 PM
Roekahs Roekahs is offline
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Montague sees it first. The others barely have time to turn their heads. The powerful hind legs of the griffons thrust them skyward, rapidly closing the distance between the trees and The Rose-Thorn. Just behind them, several more heads appear from the tree cover, but no more emerge. Just at the apex of their leap, the four spread their wings - one after the other. A powerful flap, then a second and the griffons are upon the ship. Squawks can be heard from the trees, and the screeches from those near the ship reply. The first griffon to reach the ship is an enormous, thickly-built specimen. His blazing red eyes give away the gender to those that probably Lienna and Ani and maybe Habakuk if he would have payed attention to the wildlife that settle into the sinking islandsknow anything about griffons.. Likewise, the silver-hued eyes of the second smaller griffon reveal her gender. The second pair are smaller than the first, but are also a male and female.

The ship bucks wildly under Montague's untrained hand as he tries to escape the unbidden guests, but it is in vain. The powerful wings of the birds easily keep pace with the Rose-Thorn. The first pair strike in rapid succession, tearing at the railings and the stern mast and the rigging. As they power upward and turn to strike again, the second pair reach the aft of the ship and similarly tear at any large structure they can find. The infuriated shrieks of all four griffons fill the air.

OOGMOk, we are going to play a little hard and fast with the rules here. This is technically a Conflict but it may not be as straight forward as a true 'hit stuff with a sword' conflict. We will be investigating aerial combat (things we do and do not like for later) for one thing. The other thing is this: if you have something you want to do, assume you can do it even if the RAW for a conflict don't say that you can (specifically skills that may not have an "Attack" action). Questions? just ask!

Griffon pair #1 strike with an attack of (+3) against the Rose-Thorn
Griffon pair #2 strike with an attack of (+3) against the Rose-Thorn

The Rose-Thorn is allowed to defend against each action (check spoiler)
 


AdversaryName: Startled, nesting Griffons* (x4)
Aspects: Flying Predator
Skills: (3) Talons and beak, (2) Empathy, (1) Athletics, Provoke
* while they cannot speak, griffons are considered intelligent and can understand language

 

 

*NOTE: For some reason, every time I went to write 'griffons' it came out 'birds' ... I caught most of them. Forgive any remaining ones ...
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Last edited by Roekahs; 07-25-2019 at 12:57 PM.
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