#61
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Eventually: DMing an Eberron 5e game... |
#62
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The general, albeit reluctant, consensus is to investigate the ships tucked in the trees. Or at least take a better look. The vast expanse of the island is now visible and of imminent interest to all. The island is dominated by three features: trees, crater-like clearings without trees, and one large upjutting plateau.
The trees, even from this height, can be observed to be in varying degrees of death. Some still cling desperately to life while others are completely barren and limbs have already snapped and fallen. The crater-clearings are highly variable in size and apparent depth, but the ones nearby seem to have gently sloping sides and a steady stream of something whispy curling upward from one or more locations within their expanse. The one large upjutting plateau is not far from where the ships are stashed, so it is in good view of those on the Rose-Thorn. The most dominant feature of the plateau is its green-ness. It stands in stark contrast to most of the rest of the island. Perhaps the explanation for this difference can be found in the misty waterfall cascading down the near side. All of this is observed as Lienna takes the Rose-Thorn in on a gently declining spiral toward the ships that Brokey spotted. Lienna is happy to note that the Rose-Thorn does not seem to handle terribly worse now than it had before. As the Rose-Thorn descends, the state of the ships becomes more clear. They are in fact in poor repair - perhaps the closest comparison being the Rose-Thorn herself. Yet, there are signs that they have not been just sitting and rotting where they are moored. Exactly how long they have been there is nearly impossible to tell. With the entire local topography in view, several options for landing the Rose-Thorn become apparent. There is the direct route, landing right next to the ships and making an assessment quickly. Of course should anyone be observing from the land, their approach and destination would be obvious. There is also another crater nearby which would allow a short trek through the decrepit forest to the ships. It would at least mask their destination a little, but would require a bit of walking. And finally, there is a small clearing near the waterfall, which appears to have a pond or maybe even a small lake in it. The walk from this location would be the farthest, but still possible in an hour or so and the dense green vegetation that only seems to exist near the water source would conceal their presence nearly entirely.
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Status: Shaking off the rust ... |
#63
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he/him - MC of Shadows of the City, an Urban Shadows (PbtA) game. Last edited by Wynamoinen; Aug 17th, 2019 at 10:16 PM. |
#64
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"I think the birdies have learnt their lesson," Habakuk mused, still a bit sad that they had to be repelled with some violence, hell-bent on destroying the only thing between the crew and a fall into oblivion they may have been. The Mennoam almost added that he would like to feel solid earth under his feet again too, if only for a little bit, but thought it would not appear very sailorly of him. He was a man of the skies now, the wind his mistress - that's what they sang about in the shanties, didn't they? Brokey was talking about seizing things and fire, so Habakuk thought he should put on a brave face. His brow wrinkled and his lips curled, giving him more a look of constipation. He couldn't keep it up very long anyway and wandered over to leer down at the proposed landing spot.
"Oh water, well said Sir. Stocks are not so great, not if we all want our daily tea with the biscuits." While hurting the Griffins had made him somewhat sad he was not so much of a pacifist that the prospect of poaching a bit of game did not excite him greatly. "I've to see if there's a proper skinning knife!" He dropped over the side of the ship, holding on to the rail with his overly long arm to swing through the porthole and into the kitchen below. An appropriate knife was found soon enough, and if they were to go wandering about the jungle he thought it best to bring some other things too. Seeing as they might be walking into danger he plopped one of the brass pots onto his flat head, the handle holding it loosely in place, and stuffed a baking tin down the front of his vest. When Habakuk emerged he looked like a child playing at fancy dress, but he was beaming with anticipation nontheless. That was until he heard the last bits of what Brokey had to say, not connecting it much to what had transpired on the docks earlier that day. "Accountants are after us? Is it a hostile takeover? Oh my. Better make our stop quick then." The heavy pot on his head squeezed his brow down to give him a neanderthal look as he watched down over the proposed landing site again. "Maybe just one deer, one jungle sow, something like that? Make a good jerky, or sausage, have some fresh in a pie?" |
#65
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Lienna tunes out Pembroke's rambling as best she can; her focus is on the wheel, and the island ahead. As they draw closer island, it becomes clearer that the ships are not as ruined as they appear. Lienna had taken these for abandoned wrecks, but it seems they have found a pocket of civilization, however small. She's not sure how she feels about that. On the one hand, it would have been simpler if this were a salvage operation; no bartering or haggling, no worrying if they'd stumbled on a den of pirates. On the other hand, if these ships hadn't crashed, she doesn't have to worry about whatever crashed them. An outpost, even a small one like this, suggests some protection from the dangers of the wilderness. Civilization has its own dangers, though.
Lienna's last concern is simply the state of the other ships; they look like they fly, but only barely. It seems unlikely these folks have any parts or supplies to spare, but they might as well check. The worst that can happen is they'll be sent away empty handed. Well, that's certainly not the very worst, but it's the worst that seems likely to Lienna. And if it's not... they'll deal with that as it happens, she supposes. Still, it would be rather hypocritical, she thinks, to make such a risky call all on her own. "These ain't wrecks; they're as flightworthy as the Rose-thorn, just about. Think there are people down there, can't say whether they're friendly. So, if that's something ya'll are concerned about, this is our last chance to turn around."
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Constantly updating my custom pathfinder races for my Ascana setting, would love thoughts, suggestions, and constructive criticism! |
#66
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'Til next time, folks.
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#67
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Eventually: DMing an Eberron 5e game... Last edited by oztk; Aug 28th, 2019 at 11:03 AM. |
#68
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The topography of the clearing becomes more apparent as the Rose-Thorn settles directly above. So does the intense heat emanating from the surface. It is now apparent that most of the waterfall is turning to steam before adding anything substantial to the pool of water. The area surrounding the pool is glistening in the setting sun, which had made the pool look much larger from a distance. It appears that the vaporized water is striking the cooler air and condensing to fall back to the ground. It is an interesting sight to behold as the entire area is caught somewhere between steamy evaporation and rain. Still, there is water here, although it does appear that the clear may have been a lake at one point and is now relegated to a tiny pool in the deepest, rocky portion directly below the waterfall. The Rose-Thorn is currently in need of any and all supplies - especially free ones - and water is certainly a treasure. As Lienna settles the Rose-Thorn into the clearing, landing within the misty air, a problem suddenly occurs to everyone. Watertight containers are needed to collect water! A quick check in the bowels of the ship reveals only one surely water tight barrel, although several other containers are found. At least it will be possible to top off the current barrels and fill the empty one, but barring a way to seal the other containers the supply run will be limited not by the source but by the available containers. The Rose-Thorn comes to rest with a gentle shudder. Even from the height of the deck the crew has to look upward to see the tops of the trees. The Rose-Thorn should be quite difficult to spot from the sky indeed. The sun is flirting with the tops of the trees and darkness will be falling in the depths of the foliage sooner than later, although perhaps a bit later where the trees are dying. It seems likely that a trip directly to the docked ships would allow a bit of time to snoop around before dusk begins to obscure visibility.
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Status: Shaking off the rust ... |
#69
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he/him - MC of Shadows of the City, an Urban Shadows (PbtA) game. |
#70
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"What a nice Island, reminds me of back home." Habakuk hadn't been out of the city for quite a while, and there it had been dusty and crammed rooms that he had operated in. So there was a certain spring in his step as he walked down the gangplank. The Mennoam jumped the last step, the crockery he was wearing rattling as if he were a one man percussion band.
He aah'd and ooh'd at some of the trees, contemplating the climbing of them. Though first he settled on waddling over to the little lake the waterfall was making, taking off his pot-helmet (literally) and fishing out a liberal quantity of the good old liquid. It immediately began leaking out of three or four rust-holes at the base of his repurposed hat. "How unfortunate," he said redudantly and lifted the pot above his head to catch one of the streams of water in his mouth. he thought the rust flakes washing out with the mini-waterfall could only add to his constitution, and he swallowed it all down with a big gulp. "Waters good," he informed the others, not knowing they would not appreciate the blood-like taste of iron in their mouth. Habakuk replaced his headwear, the rest of the water sloshing down on his head, making his dense fur slick and wetting his shirt. Not giving it even a second thought he scratched his chin and looked in the direction he thought the ships they had seen were in (he picked the wrong one, by the way). "Seems like we need a barrel or something. We could borrow one, right?" While his mouth had been watering earlier at the thought of some freshly hunted and prepared game he had to admit that refueling their drinking water was probably more important now. Oh it was there in abundance, but if they couldn't store it that wouldn't do them much good. He stepped over in the direction he thought they should be heading out, looking over his shoulder. "We could say hello first, see if anybody is home? Might have some parts to trade as well." |
#71
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Eventually: DMing an Eberron 5e game... |
#72
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As Lienna guides the ship in towards the waterfall, she is disappointed--and a little alarmed--to see how much of the water is boiling away. That will make filling up their supplies more difficult, but the greater concern is what that sort of heat will do to them over a long period of time. They're liable to sweat out water faster than they can gather it, and that's just the beginning. They'll have to take care of their business here as quickly as possible. Which also makes the notion of a stealthy approach to the shipyard a bit worrisome. Not that she would argue the necessity, but it just means going more slowly, being subjected to this oppressive heat for longer, and is only slightly less risky than stomping up to the place and hoping whoever owns these vessels is friendly.
So, as usual, everything is bad and everything is hard and there's no sense wallowing in it. She nods at Montague's question. "Ah'd say ah'm better with sneaking than ships, if we're bein' honest. Ah'm a bounty hunter by trade, sailing's jus' a skill ah picked up along the way. Should we go together, or would you rather ah poke around by myself?" She eyes the Mennoam for a moment, brow furrowing. "Habakuk, le'ss do a bit of scouting before we open up a conversation with the locals, okay? And if you don't feel like you're the sneaky sort, mebbe hang back until we've checked it out. Not like there's not plenty to do round here."
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Constantly updating my custom pathfinder races for my Ascana setting, would love thoughts, suggestions, and constructive criticism! |
#73
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'Til next time, folks.
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#74
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he/him - MC of Shadows of the City, an Urban Shadows (PbtA) game. |
#75
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Once the barrel is stowed, Lienna, Ani and Montague quickly overtake the meandering Brokey and "fast" moving Habakuk. Montague hurries as quickly as his short legs allow but finds that keeping pace with Lienna and Ani is difficult. The two females set out ahead of the others, keeping a sharp eye on the surrounding brush. It only takes a few minutes of travel before the crew notice that, despite the high humidity, it was comfortable near the water. At least when compared to the heat they are facing now. The sudden transformation of the trees is unnerving. Everywhere there should be green has turned a sickly orangey-brown. The underbrush is all barren and the dirt is baked into something that could pass for a street in any city in Sellaine. The oppressive heat has everyone sweating profusely within minutes but at least the hard ground makes travel easier. Despite the loss of valuable water through sweat, Lienna quickly recognizes that the heat is not so high as to cause concern for their health otherwise. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The crew has been traveling for almost an hour when the sun breaks through the rapidly thinning, decrepit foliage. The sun lies low in the sky just across an open expanse that lies before the crew. The four moored ships are easier to notice down on this level. Lienna leads the crew along the outskirts of the trees, which will only add a few minutes to the trip in total but allows a reasonable level of cover from whatever they may uncover. As the crew nears the moored ships, Lienna and Ani rejoin the others and lead the way at a slower pace. There are no sounds, no movement. The entire island is eerily quiet. Only the gentle footfalls of five figures break the silence as they approach the gangplank of the first ship. Just as they near the ship, a sound breaks the silence. Heavy footsteps. Coming from the underbrush. Figures flick in and out of view between the dead branches. Six or more, carrying a large crate between them.
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Status: Shaking off the rust ... |
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