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  #211  
Old Sep 12th, 2023, 02:56 AM
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Tempest, Siren
left-aligned image

The Drow had his ten gallons of fresh water, his limes, and a future discussion to have with Tempest. She was satisfied that the gossipy Dockmaster actually spoke with her; gold was just a nice bonus.

The sight of the purple tentacled Squiggles giving a knowing nod to Captain Cloaker caused the Siren to raise a brow. "Granted, I could be a beautiful Sea Elf, but I believe I am a fairer shade of blue, like the sky." Following after Bingle, she boarded the ship, tipping her imaginary hat in return to the Gelatinous Cube before she turned on her heel to face the Cloaker who was having an issue with a flying hat and rattling chains. At the snapping of finger-like appendages, Tempest looked down her nose at the Duergar as they fought for the fine hat. "You have them well-trained, Captain. Are they obedient out of adoration for you or because of your power over them? As a Siren and having worn a Captain's hat, I find that there can be a balance." Her eyes remained 14 on Insightkeen on the Duergar to see if anyone snorted in disgust at the comment about 'adoration'. Though, as a Siren, she surely would want to bathe in adoration now and again. And again.

Tempest tried not to twitch her eye at being called a 'thing'...by a Cloaker with a Gelatinous Cube, and a Lizard on deck. Monster - there was that word again. Like Creature. It puzzled her greatly. Her beautiful and deadly mother did not mind being called a Monster, amongst other words that defined her toothy, unforgiving and brutal nature. At least Tempest didn't think she did. Maybe she had read too many stories of Princesses and Monsters, Beasts, and Hag-like old Women with Tempting Fruit to Eat…like apples and pickled limes. They, the beasts and monsters and hags, held up a mirror to the Humans they encountered, her wise and dear Father would explain. They were stories they needed, even if they weren't totally true, but had a truth in them. This Siren, the unusually raised Monster, had a foot in one world and a tail in the other.. Monster and sensual Misfit. Would this be a place that would welcome her sincerely? Or would she be used in reputation as a Siren and whatever she could…deliver? No matter, really; this offer was not something she would consider. If a side were to be taken, this Captain would never want to save sniffling Mermaids from a great evil. Her new shipmates, her friends would fight tooth and nail, never surrendering to do what was right. Such people, even if they thought of her as a Monster or a Creature, she would not betray.

"You flatter me, Captain! What a welcome. Hopefully I will be given a tour and introduced around as I am certainly worthy of that. Is that your dangerous ghost rattling chains threateningly?" The Siren grinned a toothy, edged grin of amusement. "Your offer would be a big decision, and one I would have to ponder while your ship is cleansed. You would not expect me to sleep below with the others, so these cabins would need to be satisfactory to a standard no less than your own. No doubt you have high standards. This …Jiven.." Tempest nearly purred out the name before she up-nodded at the elegant Drow ship with the fancy leathery Drow Captain. She bared her teeth with a quick glance to the territorial female and let slip a hiss; there was no act in that. "...that male is Jiven of the Monsterous-heart? Your first mate by the fancy hat he wears and the way he walked on the dock. He holds himself very well."

Tempest paused for a moment to eye the Lizard swabbing the deck, and then her brows furrowed at the unholy sounds of the ghost. "We will see what passes, Captain Cloaker. First, I have duties to guard, and guard I must. The chains, Priestess-Acolyte, that sound. They bind the ghost to the ship. And has it sunk into the bones and wood of this vessel as stories of ghost-ships say? Priestess-Acolyte, is it true those on a ship can change after some time under the influence of a ghost? Is this how zombies are made? I am a good listener and reader of stories. As a lone Siren, I would never go near a floating haunted ghost ship for fear of being slowly changed, but that is sailor talk, is it not, Priestess-Acolyte? Once a deal is made, I can help with the pure holy water if someone can show us where the barrels are at some point." Each time the Siren refers to Bingle by her title, she is respectful, confident, and curious. With a few steps away from the Captain, she gestured from Bingle toward the Captain as though she were introducing an honorable guest. "Her magic is potent and most impressive."
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  #212  
Old Sep 12th, 2023, 08:53 AM
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Bingle Curiosa Wildwander, Forest Gnome Wizard/Warlock
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Bingle goes sedately up onto the ship. Sedate, sedate, sedate. Like someone who has never snootched, would never snootch, never has known a snootcher, scorns snootching, what even is snootching. We adepts of Saliber have always walked with our chin on a little platform that floats so majestically slow.

The captain won't go. He's unmoved by Garrick's rattle and bang, but hopefully the ghost will continue to keep up the racket. He's not bothered by his hat being pulled off. When she reaches the deck, Bingle raises a sedate hand, snatches the hat back from the Unseen Servant, and before she bows, very low, very slow, she says, "By Saliber's light, may I restore your hat?" before placing it back on his head.

There's no point in winking anymore. There's no point in pretending not to talk about the ghost. The ruse of the letter she sent is now blown, because he didn't believe it, and she has to use the ghost to press her issue, so, now it's obvious. Doesn't Garrick rattle and bang, now, anyway? She wanted the captain to believe he had to leave the ship to discuss it. But. Plans change.

Bingle begins to shake. She lets her eyes roll up in her head.

"No," she says. She lets a little bit of the panic leak into her voice, the memory of Garrick pushing in. She causes the Unseen Servant to poke invisible fingers into his ears, and blow cold invisible breaths on the back of his neck. "No, not the captain, not the captain! It's not his fault. He didn't understand! Take me instead!" She rattles her teeth together, trying to sync up the rattling with the sound of the door banging below. She lets a little spit come out the corners of her mouth. Harlan flaps and screeches in fear, and pecks at her ear. "No, Dawnwing, no!" she screams. "Better me than the captain. For by Saliber's rays of righteousness, I can hold him. I hope! Let him come, he's coming, OH HE COMES!"

Suddenly she stops rattling, cocks her head, and assumes the accent and depth of voice that the spirit had when it had her, when it moved her mouth and shook her vocal cords.

"I am the Spirit of the Mutineer! Captain Cloaker, your days are numbered. Your ship is against you, one by one they creep and crawl to me to whisper your downfall, down to the ones you hold the dearest. Watch for the one that brushes your boots. Watch for the one that turns your covers! For the Spirit of the Mutineer is at work in this boat, and soon she will be mine!"

Bingle coughs, gags, chokes, appear to recover herself. "Captain, is there a safe place we can go, somewhere we can speak in private?" She lets the tears, the sedate gracious tears, the holy tears, begin to flow.



ۜ\(סּںסּَ` )/ۜ
 


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  #213  
Old Sep 13th, 2023, 05:59 PM
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ON THE DUSK MAIDENTempest, you are new to subterfuge. You say the quiet parts out loud. All of them. You tell the captain that you are a captain in your own right and demand accommodations matching his. To be fair, when have you had to ingratiate yourself? You are your father’s darling, and most of the humans you have met are charmed and do nothing but praise you. When have you had to lie? Your mother is the bluntest creature in existence.

But when infiltrating, one can’t swan about demanding equality with the very leader you are trying to bamboozle, and when you have successfully sold the lie that “we cannot talk about the ghost on board,” one cannot go on board and immediately talk about the ghost.
First, he feels threatened and insulted, and second, he understands he has been tricked. Perhaps a diplomatic approach was needed?

Your father, a clever diplomat, has said to you, more than once, Tempe, dearest, I love your frankness, but the Summer Court would peel your skin off before you said three sentences. You must learn subtlety, or never go Feyside. Perhaps the same is true in other places? Certainly seems to be valid in the Underdark. The lesson of Vorn’s dismissal when you did not tailor your approach to him is nothing compared to the violence that breaks out now.

Bingle, does Tempest remind you of – you? Fela? Kasja? Tumble? At the lunch, when Tumble ate directly from the sugar bowl and you stole medicines and Kasja and Fela did their level best to insult every single member of the council in turn? Falco was born knowing how to get along but you all – you had to learn.

Warlock of Glasya, since you left your tiny village, you have learned that you have to know when to hold (your tongue) know when to fold (enemies over with huge spells until they die) know when to walk away (now) know when to run (NOW! NOW NOW NOW!)

But run where? The clipper? What can a small mechanic, some sailing spiders, and a hog-tied wastrel do against all these things? The village? These drow have no power, and you have seen no weapons. Hell, these guys barely have clothes, and they owe you nothing, besides. You try to cover for Tempest, but your theatrics cannot make Cloaker be un-wise to the shenanigan.

Here’s the sitch, Wizard. Falco’s ghost is still banging and moaning, and you are also louding, so most of the beings aboard the ship don’t seem to be wise to what is happening, at least until the Captain releases a huge honking blast of chilling sound. It is fury, expressed in a long, low resonating moan that floods the entire camp.



A LINK to a likely larger version of THE MAP

Name Health AC Damage Conditions Concentrating
Bingle39/3910 DC 13 WIS save or Frightened 
Harlan111 DC 13 WIS save or Frightened 
Tempest45/4517 DC 13 WIS save or Frightened
CLOAKERHEALTHY14  
CUBEHEALTHY6 frightened
SheWhoSwabsHEALTHY11  
LOOG LOOGHEALTHY13+2 (partial cover) frightened
DUERGAR 1HEALTHY16 frightened
DUERGAR 2HEALTHY16  
DUERGAR 3HEALTHY16 frightened
DUERGAR 4HEALTHY16 frightened
.     
Falco 45/45 12   
Fela 52/52 16/18 
SQUIGGLESHEALTHY15  


INN
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Fela and Falco, your gifts are well-chosen. Items of real power, but also finite, usable. Lilladreki is an explorer. She travels light. She's pleased, but more than that, she assessing both of you anew.

Fela, as you lean toward the candle to dip the end of the cigarillo in, she is suddenly beside you. Gods, but she is fast, and she snatches it right out of your hand, laughing.

No, Paladin, don't waste it. Do not light a Hell-smoke unless you intend to use it – and you have to breathe it in for it to work. The first puff has the magic. Inhale deep, and exhale on any demonic lock or holy ward. It will undo any divine or demonic warding magic in a five foot square.

Can’t do a thing against wizard locks, or wards put on by druids, devils, or fey, but if the ward’s source is some celestial or abyssal arse, BAM, it ends.

After that first puff, the smoke has no power beyond easing the troubles of the day. Smoke too much, and it will end those troubles forever, but a little is a kick.


Falco, she passes you the unlit one, as you are the smoker, and then offers you a drag off hers, if you are so inclined. The cigarillo is down to the last third, but seems slow-burning. She sets it in a primitive stone ashtray, still smoldering, and says, You can offer some of that one to the squid. I’ve no desire to share air with that thing, so. With a wink, she slips away out the other door as Squiggles enters.

But he only gets a step inside when you hear a low tolling moan, like someone banged a hateful bell, way down at the harbor.

Squiggles freezes, then says in his reverberating voice, Those drow women must have decided to take our cargo -- That’s my captain, and he is under attack.

He takes off, sprinting back the way he came.


OOCEveryone is in action economy. Squiggles will be sprinting for the ship. Because of the absolute urgency and personal nature of this encounter, I am going to up Falco’s speed to 30 feet per round until they arrive, as panic will speed him. We will not use the map because I hate new owlbear, but I put it up in the discord, and we can theatre of the mind your dash. You are right behind squiggles, and for these 4 rounds only, you can each roll a deception or persuasion or whatever without it taking your action if you choose to talk to him as you go. Talkign is free, but keep it reasonable -- a few sentences per round - as this has to happen in 6 seconds. If you choose to attack Squiggles here, you only have 30 feet of movement, but you have surprise and I will give advantage for this first round.

I gave Cloaker a surprise round, and he used it to Moan. Each creature within 60 feet of the cloaker that can hear its moan and that isn't an aberration must succeed on a DC 13 Wisdom saving throw or become frightened until the end of the cloaker's next turn. (Not a spell, an ability, Bingle, sorry!) If a creature's saving throw is successful, the creature is immune to the cloaker's moan for the next 24 hours.

The good guys are up.
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Old Sep 15th, 2023, 06:19 PM
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Fela: leaving already? But we just met!
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Fela wouldn't have been able to identify the weird noise as coming from a Cloaker, but she's preeetttty sure it's more likely it has something to do with Tempest and Bingle than the drow trying to steal the gemstones. Or maybe Tempest and Bingle somehow managed to convince the drow to steal the gems to start a fuss? And if by some fluke they weren't behind it they're on the ship and so embroiled in...whatever it is now. And it was not part of the plan.

What is the plan now? She gives Falco a terrified questioning look that can't help but convey that (Fela's eyebrows are very communicative), but whatever the plan is, it certainly can't involve letting squidface here get back to the crew before her, so she dashes off immediately after him.

"It's a dangerous moment -- the ghost and mutineers might take advantage!"

She wasn't sure where she was going with this -- she wanted to waggle her eyebrows at Falco more but it was hard to turn your head sideways and down and not trip while running at full speed all armoured up. But she trusted it was enough to justify her running alongside, and hopefully would set Falco up for...something?

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Dashing along with squiggles

Gonna try for persuasion as there's not really a lie (and Paladins can't lie), but deception is three lower if I've misjudged
Dice persuasion?:
d20+7 (10)+7 Total = 17



Aura of Protection: +4 to saves for Fela and any friendlies within 10'


 
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Old Sep 15th, 2023, 11:39 PM
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Bingle Curiosa Wildwander, Forest Gnome Wizard/Warlock
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The Captain goes loolooloooooaaam, so weird and horrible, something gross rattling in the back of his mouth. It sounds like everything chilling and raw about the Nuderdrak, and Bingle is caught cold in the heart, afraid. She will die, the moan says. She stands small and mute in silly garb with a holy symbol around her neck of a god she can never pray to and never know. She will be killed now, the moan says. She stands on a mosnert ship full of mosnerts. Sadness fills her ears. Stupid to try and be a Saliber adept! Stupid to try writing letters and think you can play this game of ghosts and ships. Why is she so close to the bad guys?! She is the worst wizrad in the world. She knows it, she knows it, she knows it, but here she is anyway, standing up on a boat. Again. Wizrads are supposed to stand at the back!

She can't take a step closer to him. But she can't skitter farther away, it would be too shameful! She wants to disappear, be back in the silent underwater, away from the moan. How far to overboard. How far to the Clipper. How far to Falco and Fela. How far to Tempest, where she could backpack up, and peek out from the siren's hair. It's all bad up here. She sends Harlan flying toward the chains on the ghost's prison, to examine the links, the lock, the composition. If they can get the ghost out! If they can free him!

She feels her body folding, sinking into fear, but she calls out, still in the voice of the ghost, "Citizens, arise! The time is nigh! See how your captain attacks the servant of a god. No one will blame you for turning on him now! Arise! Arise!" She wants to fold and fall, snootching backward, embarrassing herself, embarrassing Saliber and Glasya all at the same time, but at least dark and small, under a bench. Or crawl up into Tempest's collar, stop breathing, shut her eyes. But she can't do this. She calls the Unseen Servant to her to give her the firmest hug its invisible arms can deliver, and casts her magical armor spell, to make herself a little tougher.



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Old Sep 15th, 2023, 11:41 PM
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Plans often end up fluid, like th' sea
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Th' Hell smoke were 'bout as harsh as anyone might be expectin' an' it burned in th' lungs, like a chest full o' smolderin' embers. It left a taste o' iron, somethin' suspiciously coppery, an' a hint o' sulfer on exhale. Falco tried not t' cough as Lilladreki slipped out o' th' room. He left it burnin' in th' little stone tray for th' mind flayer who froze when th' awful moan rolled through th' island.

Falco didn't need th' mind flayer t' tell 'im that meant somethin' were goin' bad. Ol' Wiggle Beard said it were th' Drow but, most likely, it weren't. Either way, Bingle an' Tempest were in trouble. He met Fela's eyebrows an' nodded. Things were happenin' now so they'd best roll along an' try t' direct th' tides t' their favor. He bounded off after Squiggles fueled on adrenaline an' infernal cigarillo keepin' pace with th' paladin.

"She's right, yer captain's in grave danger," Falco said as th' three of 'em ran down meager streets. "This be exactly what th' ghost wants, exactly how he claims 'em. There may be a new captain upon arrival, would that be you?" Had th' mutinous crew even considered that or did they already have a leader? Did Squiggles want th' helm? If not, would it be better t' make sure th' mind flayer never made it back? Falco would have a bit of a jog t' figure it all out.

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Old Sep 16th, 2023, 04:32 AM
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Tempest, Siren
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Tempest was off-script. Whether she simply enjoyed boasting about how amazingly well-read and in-the-know she was about ghost-sea-stories, or how she was in the company of an even more wise and knowing spiritual exorcist holy Gonme Acolyte, the Siren just couldn't help herself and went dangerously off the deep end not paying heed to the plan. She wanted to feed the superstitions of the crew; to let them know HELP was right HERE in front of them! Why, they would toss jewels at her and Bingle (and everyone else) for saving them from a ghost AND the Captain! The glory! All without raising her trident. The trickery and goodness of it all felt so mischievous …and it certainly ran away from her.. It being her mouth and the words that fell carelessly out of them, including the privileged-feeling that a Siren often felt on a ship. But here there were Monsters. Much like Drow, they might not be impressed with her or even know that she was more than just gnashing teeth and beauty. No, no…they probably just thought of her as a destructive, ship-splintering, sailor-drowning ice-cold threat, like her Mom. They probably didn't even know Sirens sometimes enjoyed dancing in the moonlight before they murdered foul Mermaid-netting pirates. Obviously Captain Cloaker did not know that a Siren could have feelings or delusions of grandeur with high expectations of others - much like a Human noble would. How would he have known that he was inviting a boastful Monster on board with so many arrogant demands.

As Captain Cloaker's mood shifted, Tempest slowly started to realize that she said the word 'ghost' a few times. It was too late, though, and Bingle being the brilliant improvisational actress that she was, followed suit. The Siren was more than impressed by the possession, the self sacrifice! Her eyes certainly grew wide at the production with the door banging and teeth chattering. Turning to the Captain, she would have added something in a quiet voice, but before she could do or say anything more, the MOAN of fury resonated deep and frothing through the cavernous Underdark. It was a sound the Siren could feel within her, demanding to not only be heard, but to drive fear into her very core. She had never experienced anything like it before; instead of fear, it enveloped her in a sense of dread. It forced her to remember the mermaids that were turned into the undead, that of which sunk an uncomfortable feeling into her gut as well.

"First you honor me with an invitation to be a monstrous member of this crew, and then you turn on everyone? The Captain has become irrational! Defend yourselves against him!" Tempest followed Bingle's lead, glancing over at her shining but fear-filled self. Without the horribly induced fear, she took in the Monster Captain before her with a Monster's coolness of a raised brow, and then noted the Gelatinous Cube who only moments ago tipped its hat at them in an amicable, welcoming manner. The Duerger had work to do; geodes to carry before the Drow became sour with their slowness. And the fishy Kua-Toa had just climbed onboard, bringing the scent of the strange water with him.

The Siren made a promise to Bingle, so as she slipped gracefully to the side and around Captain Cloaker, she started to sing her own song - quite the opposite of the Moan that radiated terror. Her Targeting Loog Loog, and the two Duergar closest to Loog Loogsong promised friendship and trust, of delighting in each other's company. The Fey melody floated brightly, seductively, opposing the harsh, deep sound of a Cloaker's threatening presence. As she sang the wordless song, the Siren made her way to stand between the Captain and Bingle with a raised shield and her trident still slung across her back. To her side was the Cube. She offered it a respectful nod, hoping it remained welcoming as she did not pose an obvious threat with her trident.
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Old Sep 17th, 2023, 08:04 PM
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MUSHROOM ISLAND
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Fela, you run. Squiggles leads the way, his wrinkly old tentacles thrashing and jouncing. You keep pace, even in your armor, and you can see his mouth opens wrongfully, set vertically. Hard to look at at. It would be terrible to see him eat. It is not great to see him huffing and talking out of it. Better to just run.

A dangerous moment! the illithid echoes, but his lamplit orange eyes narrow when you say the M word. Mutinyyyyyy??? Whatever can you mean. He is an excellent liar. If you didn’t know for a fact he was in on the plot, you wouldn’t believe there was one. Plot butter wouldn’t melt in his vile mouth.

Falco, you run. You have the Hell Cigar, the fresh unlit one, firmly in your fist, which is pumping to somehow make you go faster. You have never run this fast before in your whole life. You will never run this fast again. The paladin is fully armored, the mind flayer is elderly, but even so, they by rights with their long legs should leave you behind. They can’t, today. Not with the Dusk Maiden at stake, with Garrick trapped by silver chains in his quarters and Captain Kiernan’s. There is a secret door, between. You know this.

You ask who would be in charge should there, for a casual and completely random example, be a mutiny, and Squiggles says, Why no, not me. Jiven, the first mate. Should an unfortunate event that no one wants occur.

You both notice, as you run, how quickly the square is emptying out. Thin drow disappear into this hovel or that tent. This is not their first harbor-murder rodeo, and they want no part in it. They clot up in the few spaces with doors and close them, bolt them.

You can see the boats from here. A couple of drow are gliding up the dock, heading for a nearby building. You cannot see Bingle or Tempest and so you know that they must have gone aboard.

Tempest you know from your mother that charm is hard, hard to do, once blood rises and people (or monsters) understand they are in peril. The Duargar look up, sharp, and then shrug your song away. Loog Loog begins to gurgle, loud, on the first note. He sings, trying to drown you out:

When sirens open up they throat, too rah, loo rah,
All I ever get’s a note, TOO RA LOO RA AYE.


He succeeds in hearing his song over yours, but none of them can come at you, because they are still frightened and they can’t get to you without passing captain. You move boldly between Bingle and the Cloaker, and his eyes blaze violence and hatred. You try to point out what you see as instability, but they know him, and you are a stranger who said you deserved better lodgings than them. TO ARMS TO ARMS THEY LIED THEY LIED, he calls. He lashes his tail at you and misses, but then he swoops out his big arms and envelops you, and his mouth gawps open, huge, and he swallows your head.

left-aligned image
See, that’s what I’m talkin ab—You hear LoogLoog start to say, but then your whole head is enveloped in his huge vile wet mouth. You cannot see. You cannot breathe. What irony, siren. You are drowning.

Bingle, you too try to turn the crew against him, but with no clear leadership they trust, mutiny seems hard to spark and unlikely to happen. It will require a lever of some kind, a tipping, a belief in winning. Keledek’s calm voice in your head, trusting you, and what would a wizrad do? You call your unseen servant and put on unseen armor. CORRECT! If only you yourself could be unseen. So many eyes on you.

You deploy Halran to see the chains, but they are behind a door. He flutters, helpless, but then the door slams open. He smells armpit. He smells foot. He sees two heads, two mad faces, two big bad-breath mouths hollering, WHAT? and WHAT! The ettin! Just past the ettin is a conference or dining table and two more doors, one here, one there. And he can make out a silvery glow—the chains are on them. STUPID ETTIN! MOVE! He steps up toward the deck.

Loog Loog throws a spear from his cover and it sticks in your shoulder before clattering to the deck. The Swabbing lizard person drops her mop and comes toward you all. The cube FLOPS AND GURGLES and the bones inside slosh in slo-mo and the hat sloshes even slower and now IT IS IN YOUR SPACE WITH YOU, trying to swallow you whole!

Tempe and Bingle, The moan fades and the fear the captain used accidentally mostly against his own fades. Both sets of Duargar set down their stones. From bellow, you hear more running Duargar feet.

This…is bad.

Name Health AC Damage Conditions Concentrating
Bingle33/3910-6DC13 dex save or enveloped 
Harlan111   
Tempest32/4517-13blind, drowning  
CLOAKERHEALTHY14  
CUBEHEALTHY6  
SheWhoSwabsHEALTHY11  
LOOG LOOGHEALTHY13+2 (partial cover)  
DUERGAR 1HEALTHY16  
DUERGAR 2HEALTHY16  
DUERGAR 3HEALTHY16  
DUERGAR 4HEALTHY16  
ETTINHEALTHY12  
.     
Falco 45/45 12   
Fela 52/52 16/18 
SQUIGGLESHEALTHY15  


Tempest is enveloped with the blind condition and the drowning condition— A creature, including the target, can take its action to detach the cloaker by succeeding on a DC 16 Strength check. She can hold her breathe for a number of minutes = to her +CON

The cube is now in BINGLE’s Square. She needs to roll a DC 12 dex save or be engulfed. If you save, you can move 5 feet in any open direction that is open.

No map this time — too hard w travel and anyway the FEAR means littles movement. Tempest has moved between captain and Bingle. Cube to BIngle. Swabbie closer. Everyone else was either carefully setting down stones or frightened. Halran is by the door the ettin just opened to the second level. He can slip past the ettin this round if he wants to look at the chains on the inner doors to the captain and deck Wizrads cabin, as the Ettin has ENTERED THE CHAT and do not care about birds.

Falco and Fela are 3 rounds away. Squiggles is interested but also confused by what they said.
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Old Sep 18th, 2023, 11:37 PM
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Roots spread from a tiny seed
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Falco dashed alongside th' bigguns, his friends were in trouble, his ship were in trouble, an' Garrick were still waitin' behind silver chains. Th' burnin' in 'is legs reminded 'im o' what he already knew; that this pace would'nt be lastin' very long. Still, he stretched further with every stride, bare feet hardly touching th' cold ground. He needed t' make sure he knew what side th' mind flayer were on before they got t' th' docks.

What they really needed, were fer th' mutineers t' see this as their chance an' take it. Th seed were already in heart o' some o' th' crew. They knew this. It were only a matter o' nurturin' th' right ones. Th' first pale roots dig fast and deep, reaching out an' into th' space it's given. Feed th' growth.

"Aye, it's what th' ghost wants. Mutiny," Falco explained between short breaths. "So, if'n Jivens wanted t' be more'n a first mate now would be th' time." His heart were pumpin' jus' as hard an fast as 'is his legs. "Nobody would look twice if'n somethin' unexpected were t' happen. All we want be that ghost."

Now that he could see the dock again, Falco were findin' one more thing t' worry about. It could get real ugly, real quick if'n th' drow thought they were after their geodes. He focused on th' runnin' instead of that potential problem. This were his one shot. He'll have th' Dusk Maiden back or be joinin' Captain Kieran at th' end o' this.

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Old Sep 19th, 2023, 01:27 AM
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Bingle Curiosa Wildwander, Forest Gnome Wizard/Warlock
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An adept of Saliber would not be frightened by some stupid cloak monster! Bingle shakes off the fear when the spear jabs into her. She slips away from the cube's slimy clutches and trots up the stairs where she raises her orange sleeves to the dark sky and shakes dramatically. She makes her voice gritty and rolls her eyes back in her head.

"Arrrrgh I am the Mutinous Spirit of the Duskmaiden, hear me rattle and bang! I have heard your plotting and scheming, and I love it! Your whispers on the stairs, and your sobs in the hammocks. I love the ettin's mutinous left head. I love the lizard with her mutinous mop. I love the drow first mate and the tentacled traitor! To me, citizens, to me! See how I have possessed this very powerful magic user to help you kill your captain!"

Bingle shakes as if fighting off the possession, but sends two beams of hellish energy crackling toward the captain. She tells the unseen servant to run over to the mop bucket and kick it over. She tells Harlan to fly past the captain's door and examine the silver chains.




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Old Sep 19th, 2023, 02:41 AM
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Tempest, Siren
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Loog Loog's gurgled song was clever, and Tempest temporarily admired a fellow undersea 'monster' that understood her Siren-ness because the Captain certainly did not. She would have tipped her hat at him, but instead she winked, since winking was something she's trying to get a grasp of. Unfortunately, this lasted a split second before all she saw were jagged TEETH and a whipping barbed tail that flailed near her, and then TEETH again! And DARKNESS in a gaping maw of being GULPED out of sight. Holy Lamprey from HELL!

Instinctively, angrily, crackling lightning danced around her in shocks of pure white and electric blue as she tried to draw the Tempest goddess' wrath at and into the Cloaker that could be trying to swallow her whole, beautiful head first. She shoved her shield against his thick-cloaky body that wrapped around her, rubbery-like and stifling. The Siren, faithful of Aerdrie Faenya, focused her gathered lightning to try to thunderBOOM and bolt him away with forceful push powered by the glorious storm that surged through her suffocating self. Though she wasn't strong enough to dislodge her head from the confines of the gawping maw, Tempest tried with a growl that became caught in her throat..

Remembering the necklaces about her neck, both the medallion of her faith, and the one of prayer-filled-beads that Bingle allowed her to keep, Tempest drew her fingers quickly over the stones and attempted to pull the weaving of a blessing out of it for herself and the noble Gnome. She was not going to go back on her word, and she would eat the cloaker from the inside out if need be, the Siren decided on a more bestial note as she was sensibly trying to just hold her breath; an odd thing for her to do, indeed. Tempest was much like a fish out of water, inside the hollow of an insane, paranoid mutant manta ray.
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Old Sep 19th, 2023, 11:15 AM
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Fela, feyly fleet of foot
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Falco's feet fly so lightly across the island they're barely touching the ground, maybe because he's laying it on so thick with Squiggles there's nothing left. Which is good, because they could really use a mutiny, which are chaotic thing, and Fela's decidedly a law and order type of girl. Blunt instrument that she is, her preferred method of persuasion is a direct and heartfelt oration about a cause she believes in. None of this tip-toeing around the outside, lying and omitting, tricking someone into doing something that would be against their best interests but extremely convenient for Fela. Where does she even start?

"Who'll win, cloaker or ghost? What a fight!"

Is this helping? She's not sure. She's too busy running, it's all she has breath for. But she doesn't want Squiggles to think the captain is already doomed -- then why would they intervene?

She doesn't want to talk anymore, she doesn't want to run anymore, she wants to be at the ship, making sure Bingle is ok, making sure Tempest hasn't caused too much trouble. Or making sure Bingle hasn't caused too much trouble and that Tempest is ok? She just wants to be there, so bad, and without meaning to, consciously, she feels that familiar sea-sick love-sick swelling her belly, and she feels herself start to get pulled toward the ship...


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Movement: Toward ship
Action: Dash toward ship
Bonus Action: Misty Step toward ship

What with the talk of things interfering with teleportation left it open if her Misty Step actually works...

Aura of Protection: +4 to saves for Fela and any friendlies within 10'


 
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  #223  
Old Sep 21st, 2023, 09:41 PM
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The Mutiny(esque Situation)
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Fela, you run, and you ask the Illithid abomination who will win, and it makes crafty calculations. Cloaker cannot win. He has tried. The ghost BAMFS back into the very wood and warp of the ship. But he has contained the ghost to a portion, so how is it out, attacking? You don't want to answer this. In part because it isn't out and you don't know how it could be and you don't want to lie. You want to get to the fight and lay down some law.

You run, pressing forward, lungs on fire, sweating in your armor, and you feel that drop and tickle, and then---you are soaring. Literally soaring. You have moved thirty feet forward, but also thirty feet up into the air. Your arms and legs paddle inadvertently as you plummet to the earth, injuring yourself as you land, trying desperately to keep your feet and continue forward...

Falco, you run, panting, trying to get this ancient squid to understand the situation ---well. The situation you want it to understand. This is a very smart squid. It sees what you are getting at. It is suspicious, but the bait you dandle is bait it really wants to put in its weird sideways mouth.

Squiggles says, The ghost wants mutiny? Well, yesssss, in that it wants all who sail aboard its ship dead. It would hate Jivens as captain just much as Cloaker. It realizes it might sound like it is PRO mutiny (which it is) and it parts its tentacles and spreads the corners of its lips north and south and then easterly tilts them in what must be an approximation of an ingratiating smile? It is absolutely ghastly. Not that anyone wants harm to come to our beloved Captain. But. Out of idle curiosity. Why do you want to kill or banish this ghost?

Tempest you call the storm, and get no answer. The storm needs your eyes, and you are blind. How can you not see a thing if your head is literally inside it? Because your eyes are closed---they will not open. Cloaker's thick-meat tongue presses wet and slithey against your whole face, the mucusy saliva stinging your eyes, making them squinch closed. You can form words with the breath in your body and mouth them out against this salty tongue, but you cannot see. You struggle, but you cannot break free.

You do not need to see to find the little bead with your thrashing hand, you do not need to see to call forth a holy blessing for yourself and your friend. With your head caught, with your magic partially quelled, with death a distinct possibility, a primal need that haunts every dying creature, the need to crawl back to the one safe place -- though yours was never as safe as most. In short? You want your mother. Is it jarring to remember that she might be dead now? You went to sea to find the ship, to hunt the pirates, to end the threat, hopefully before your parents are killed by overwhelming hoards of undead Sahuagin, undead mermaids, undead sea elves, undead Kuo-toa... and got sucked down to the Underdark. You have had the pleasures of insulting random drow and playing with outfits and having society and perhaps even bonding with comrades (NEW!) but... how long have you been gone, anyway?

Bingle, an Ettin has entered the chat, and an unseen servant has left it. With a faint pop, your conjured friend is gone. Stupid geodes! Halran is sending frantic little messages as he zips around the ettin and into the war room slash dining room slash current captain cabin and gets a good look at the chains on both doors. They are silver in COLOR. Not Material. In fact, they look very frail. In fact, he thinks they are made of spider web. He has a small winged thing's natural caution about spider web, and so he swoops by again, peering instead of pecking, and he tells you this web-formed chain glows with a decidedly unholy light.

You holler and hurl. One of your blasts lands, but you see the force of it hurts Tempest just as much as it hurts him.

Your words land, too, maybe because they are mostly, somewhat, kind of...true?


The Bad Guys Are Up The right head of the ettin swivels to look at the left head, and the head says, Whaaaaaaat? in an entirely unconvincing way. The two engage in a low fierce conversation...

Cube lashes with a Psuedopod at Bingle as she ghosts away, but misses. He flollops up behind trapped Tempest and a strange burble of a voice comes farting out, made from bubbles he squeezes out of his many hats and then pushes out of a sphincter he forms with one gelid corner. DROOOOP THEEEEEE SIIIIREEEENNNN! CUUUUUBE WEEEEELLL MELLLLLLLLT! The captain will not release her, though.

Loog Loog scrambles up and across the deck to grab his spear and lofts it an Bingle, but it misses.

One duergar goes quietly invisible. Two mill, uncertain. From below, you hear more Duergar -- some seem to be coming up but none appear. The fourth hurls a javelin across the deck toward Bingle and it pierces her grievously in the side!

Across the pier, drow come to the railing, watching. The two women seem to be placing bets with each other and some of their crew.

Need help, cap? Jiven Starkscream calls. Alas, the captain cannot answer, as his mouth is full of siren-head. Here, let me shoot that ***** for you, Jiven calls even more helpfully. He pulls out a long barreled, odd weapon that releases an enormous BANG as he deploys it. OOPS! He misses, accidentally hitting his own captain! OOPS, he oopses loudly. HOLD HER STILL, EH CAP? Unfortunately, the bullet rips through the Cloaker and hits Tempest as well.

She-Who-Swabs drops her mops and becomes SHE WHO IS IMPUGNED AND TOOTHY. What fury! I LOOOOOOVE CAPTAIN CLOAKER WHO SAYS I DO NOT COME HERE GHOSTY I WILL--- what she plans to do is biologically impossible. You hope. She sees no ghost. So she runs at Bingle. The smell is a poison! She gags and heaves. WHY DO THEY HAVE THIS THING CLEANING? She must really love the captain, as her bite lands and then each of her claw-hands rake down the wizard.



OOC

LINK TO VERY SIMPLE MAP. If you move off the boat I will punt, NO WORRIES VAMPIRE = Cloaker (because it has a cloak). Gray Ooze = Cube. Owl = Harlan

Everyone check your spells please, and if you use a spell a from either the DIVINATION or CONJURATION (conjuration) school, please roll a d4 in your action block. 1 it fizzles, 4 it works fine, 2 or 3 I tell you what happens. (I didn't realize UNSEEN SERVANT was Conjuration until now, so you got two free rounds of it working with no roll, cheerio)

Name Health AC Damage Conditions Concentrating
Bingle10/3913-6 -11 -12Blessed, DC10 con save or POISONED 
Harlan111   
Tempest17/4517-13 -3 -12blind, drowning, Blessed  
CLOAKERHurt14 -7 -12 
CUBEHEALTHY6  
SheWhoSwabsHEALTHY11  
LOOG LOOGHEALTHY13  
DUERGAR 1HEALTHY16 Invisible
DUERGAR 2HEALTHY16  
DUERGAR 3HEALTHY16  
DUERGAR 4HEALTHY16  
ETTINHEALTHY12  
.     
Falco 45/45 12  2 sprints from dock
Fela 41/52 16/18-111.5/1.75 sprints. 14DEX save or prone
SQUIGGLESHEALTHY15  

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  #224  
Old Sep 22nd, 2023, 03:26 PM
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Bingle Curiosa Wildwander, Forest Gnome Wizard/Warlock
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Eff it! Eff this! Eff it eff it eff it! Good gods do nothing for her. Saliber? Eff! Child of holygnome of Baervan Wildwanderer? Freakin eff! Worshipper of Chiktikka Fastpaws? And she used to hide out in the fern patch staring at a handful of raspberries on a freaking stump!? Waiting for him? Where was he, where was Fastpaws when she was a stone for one hundred years? (NOWHERE) Where was Saliber when grey growly dwarves are throwing their javelins? (NOWHERE) Where was Baervan Wildwanderer when she was sitting in the dagger forever with Banx and never any help came from him or anyone else (NOWHERE) except GLASYA. Well fine.

The javelin tears away at her and hruts really bad and she starts bleeding all over the stupid costume, and honestly, trying to hold this siht together is maddening, and useless. "EFF THIS," she says, smacking at it, as it stings and knocks her back. Nearly almost saying the word itself, she sheds the pious stupid costume that didn't do anything and the dumb alter self that was a ridiculous sham, and out of her heart comes roaring a lump-dump-dump-duhduh-dump-dump and that searing voice sneering out of hell itself at the duergar, "Oh honey, I know you did not just throw your little stick at this crazyass warlock right here. Did you know this was Glasya's chosen? Did you want to get your face turned inside out by little demons when you die? Now come here let me jump down that throat and jollop those guts around!"

On the echoes of this invigorating taunt, the little warlock sends a black swirl of Glasya's most dreadful curse to lick and lap around the cube, before hurling her two black balls of angry evil into his gelatinous depths.


ۜ\(סּںסּَ` )/ۜ
 


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  #225  
Old Sep 23rd, 2023, 12:43 AM
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A horse, o' course
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Falco was already runnin' beyond 'is own natural limits, pushin' his burnin' lungs an' legs t' work harder an' t' pump in time with th' frantic pace o' his desperate heart. He could see th' Dusk Maiden an' hear th' fightin' on her deck. His friends were up there, outnumbered. He needed to go faster. But he needed t' convince this walkin' squid t' make 'is move before they get there.

"It's personal," Falco answered, trying to save his breath an' stay close t' th' truth. "I were there fer th' first mutiny Up, under th' sun, there were only 5 o' us when I were thrown over." He shook 'is head an' pressed on, "I've got me own ship now, I jus' need t' send that ghost on an' get back t' our side o' th' world." He's pretty sure Sqiggles is catchin' th' general drift, but wonders if'n he believes it all.

No time t' worry 'bout that now, he needed t' get there. Hin jus' ain't made t' run like this. Fela were gone now, then appearin' up in th' air suddenly fallin'. A Hin ain't made fer carryin' an' armored up human. They needed horses. Fast an' intimidatin' horses t' charge in, tramplin' their foes. Falco reached inward, an' thought about running. He reached out t' th' weave, part o' everythin', an' thought o' poundin' hooves, o' long strides, an' soarin' leaps. He could feel a herd around him an' part o' him as he shook 'is mane an' stretched 'is legs into a brisk canter.

Falco angled t'ward Fela, hopin' t' give her a chance ride into battle in true paladin style. He snorted and whinnied at her as he neared so she would know it were him. He were fast now, a big an' proud bay dun thundered t'wards th' Dusk Maiden an' Garrick.

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