[Game Thread] The Voyage of the Avilers

[Colatine]

The strink of rot permeates the harbor. Slaves of all ilk; young, old and strange, toil under the setting sun. The josteling and the chaos is unbearable, yet there is an underlying rythm, a music to it all.

As the sun descends below the horizon, the gas lamps, hundreds of them, powered by the swamp rot, flicker on. Their glow should illuminate, yet the pale yellow glow seems to obscure what is. The work pauses for a heart beat as the workers sweep out, only to be swept back in like a tide, the faces meaningless, the task the same. Nothing ever changes here; ever. The chains that bind are so strong, so long, that men rot in place.

Looming near you is the Alviers; your escape from this hell of civilization...The Savage Coast, barbaric, yet could it be more barbaric that Liberty?... She is a venerable but seaworthy vessel. Her crew working hard through the night loading cargo. There are several of you here, yet, like the workers, you could all be the same.

You notice an old man carefully bundled in dirty robes approaching, his body shivering and wracking as if with some ailment; filth fever, the red blotch, the bloating infestation....diseases and worse were common among the poor. Probably a beggar, one of thousands.

The man unexpectedly rushes towards you, surprising you with his speed; pawing and grabbing at you. His eyes blazing, looking from face to face, as if searching, knowing.

“A house divided will fall … must fall … His wrath is terrible … He sees you … His eye is upon you …”

[temporarily closed]

[Colatine]

Kai saw the man too late. The filthy old man had grabbed him. "You, you," he muttered, oblivious to anything. The sleeves of his robes slid open, revealing numerous scars.

Antimony is all too familiar with such scars, they were self inflicted. Lydak had heard of such zealots, those often claiming to perfect themselves through the suffering of others.

Tate side stepped the man, his eyes still scanning the crew and the other passengers. He sees a curious sight; a shackled older man, His hair and beard
have grown long from his inattention, being lead aboard.

Suddenly, the old man grabbed a dagger from from his belt and starts carving into his stomach.

OOC Here we go; feel free to make rolls as you see fit, dont wait for my prompt.

[Cedric]

Kai tore himself free from the crazed zealot, shambling back and nearly falling over in the process "Away, crazy git!" he hisses through clenched teeth as he takes a sharp look around, hoping that the mad man hadn't drawn any unwanted attention to him.

Quickly checking his gear he draws the hood of his thick, brownish robes over his face and shuffles on board, eyes glaring from within at the self mutilating old man.

[mcl01]

Used to the crazies from Jervis's tavern, Cern sighs, distraught. Theses hopeless, diseased poor were everywhere. Cern had learned to almost ignore them after a while. Upon seeing the beggar's knife, however, his pulse quickens, instantly alert. Whipping out a dagger of his own, he lashes out quickly, aiming at the beggar's dagger and trying to knock it loose from the man's bloated hand.

"Now, now... don't do something stupid like that!"

 

Disarm roll: 11

[Virulain]

Antimony stepped back, saying nothing. Maybe the man was a prophet? Maybe this was some order from his spirits? She was only a bard--who was she to intervene? By the looks of him, even the slow death of an accidental stomach wound might be more merciful than another week of shambling life. She could see by the scars that he had already done this type of thing more than once.

Along the lines and crowds, others had already shied away from the man, either consciously or unconsciously. The former tended to hiss and their faces shuddered with repulsion, but the others just moved away deeper into the mortal masses, another improvised step in an intricate dance. "Who's 'he', old seer?" Who but seers came in such ugly, humble guises? And who was she to know? Only a singer of legends, a prisoner, and a debtor. The wooden and bone beeds in her pale, dirty hair clacked as she moved a step or two closer to him. "Who?"

[HughtheHand]

Sitting underneath the railing of the ship, Nelbin watched the man bare his belly and attempt to cut into it as the others either backed away or attempted to stop him. Nelbin only watched and hoped the man did himself no real harm, though should that happen he was ready to come to his aid. Perhaps this was another sign from the Goddess, Nelbin thought. The signs did not come often during the waking hours, but they did come.

Leaning back against the wood, feeling the giant ship rocking beneath him, Nelbin watched the man intently, noting the intense interest of the woman with the beads in her hair as she moved closer to the man. Though he couldn't make out her words, he imagined several possibilities that might have been fitting for the situation.

[UncaJJ]

Glibnick

Those that see Glibnik walking down the docks stare in wonder that a dwarf so wide is able to walk, let alone fail to collapse every street and bridge that he walks along. Captains of ships pray to every god they can think of as he approaches and sighs with relief as he passes their ship by. If they thought long enough, they would be able to see that he probably weighs the same as a good size human man or a smallish half-orc, but the view of this... being... who is as wide or wider than he is tall evokes thoughts of elephants or a hippopotamus.

As he nears the berth of The Avilers, those fleeing the scene, as well as those waiting to see what happens impede the fighter's steady progress. "Bah! I want to get to me berth and have a pint! What be the hold up? Peering around those in front of him, Glibnick sees a human male scurrying up the gangplank of the ship he's trying to reach, and a crazy old man being confronted by an elven male and questioned by a wee slip of a (filthy) half-elf lass.

As the dwarf starts pushing his way through the crowd, he sees the old man whip out a dagger and start carving into his gut. "Here now!" he cries as he reaches the man and pulls back his arms so that the elven man can more easily stop the old fool from doing too much damage to himself.

"I be needin to git on mah ship, I not be needin' to slip in yer blood and land overboard!"

 

Glibnick the Downtrodden - Dwarf Fighter 1
Round: - Crazy Old Men on a Dock
Initiative:
HP: 13/13
AC/T/FF: 19 / 13 / 17
For/Ref/Wil: 5 / 2 / 1
Effects:
Movement: 20 (Ignores Burden and Armor)
Action Points used: 1/?5?
Actions
Move:
Standard: Grabs the man's arms so Cern can disarm him if he hasn't already.
Minor:
Free:

Combat Rolls

Grapple

15

[Colatine]

"The Lord of the Maelstrom," said the deranged man happily, looking from Cern to Antimony, as he continued to carve what looked to be whirlpool on his stomach. Before he could do further damage a rather rotund dwarf intercepted the blade.

They could pass for brothers; one dark, the other light, both well muscled and tall, both priest of Sur. The darker one had an air of natural authority. He stepped up next to Antimony, touching the old man without askance. He closed his eyes, muttering a small prayer. The healing of the light enveloped the old man, closing his wounds.

It all clicked into place in Nelbin's mind. Yes, the man was possessed, but the symptoms were unlike anything he had ever seen.

Kai noted the old man being led up in shackles. He looked familiar, it was at the edge of his mind...damn.

------------

A handsome blonde man, from aboard the Avilers runs down the gangplank towards you, along with a couple of others.

"Not this old coot again! Shoo old man!" he mutters, gently nudging the old man away. "You must be the passengers; I hope yer ready to break your backs! I'm the first mate, Huxley's the name."

[UncaJJ]

Glibnick

Glibnick releases the arms of the old man as the priest of Sur heals him, curtly nodding his thanks to them for their assistance. The dwarf pushes the old man gently in the direction of the priests, hoping they will take care of him now, and turns to Huxley as he makes his introduction.

"Pleasure to meecha Huxley!" Glibnick shows his palms in greeting to the first mate. "I be Glibnick the Downtrodden, and it do be hard to break a dwarf's back! Although the elf and half-elf might be a different story though!" A huge glittering white smile splits the deep red beard of the dwarf as he looks at Cern and Antimony. "I do hope yeh have plenty of ale of a drinkable flavor on board! It do be a long trip from what I been told!"

With that, the dwarf waddles toward the gangplank with exaggerated steps, making his steps sound heavier than they really are, enjoying the looks as those near the gangplank back rapidly away in case it splinters under his girth, and sigh in relief as his feet both end up on the deck of the Avilers.

 

Glibnick the Downtrodden - Dwarf Fighter 1
Round: - Crazy Old Men on a Dock
Initiative:
HP: 13/13
AC/T/FF: 19 / 13 / 17
For/Ref/Wil: 5 / 2 / 1
Effects:
Movement: 20 (Ignores Burden and Armor)
Action Points used: 1/?5?
Actions
Move:
Standard:
Minor:
Free:

Combat Rolls

[mcl01]

Thankful for the dwarf's interruption, Cern sheathes his dagger and conceals it under a heavy, faded blue cloak. He offers a quick deferential bow to the two priests, and leaves the deranged man to them. "Thanks to the two of ya for your help. Keep my ship in your prayers, will ya?"

Turning away from them, he offers a hasty handshake to the hefty stranger, along with a quick introduction. "And thanks to ya too for the help back there... Spend a month throwing out the punchdrunks at Jervis's tavern, and you'd think you'd have gotten used to everything. The crazies still manage get to me though..." With his free hand, the elf raises it to the back of his disheveled, raven-colored hair, scratching it embarrassedly. "Oh, the name's Cern by the way."

Dwarfed by... well, the dwarf's ridiculous bulk, the slender, Cern looks outrageously thin and fragile in comparison. His willowy figure dressed in understated simplicity, he wouldn't make much of a memorable figure if not for his environment. Compared to his surroundings, his worn and tired out clothes and body are noticeably clean and free of filth, a relatively remarkable feat given the area. Over his off-white cloth tunic he wears a rather old-looking leather vest, bleached slightly by sun and saltwater spray. His pale face is rather plain-looking, but in this doleful district of death and disease, his scrubbed and unmarred elven features stand out among the crowd. His hands, however, are an oddity. While otherwise relatively clean, his hands and hands only seem smudged with black stains. On his left hand, he wears a thin silver ring of obvious value. The black smears cover the ring as well, prominently outlining some otherwise unnoticeable, yet intricately engraved filigree.

Upon hearing Huxley's call from behind his back, Cern at first nonchalantly cranes his head backwards and introduces himself to the first mate. "Ah yeah, I guess that'll be me. You can call me Cern..."

And then, a thought strikes him. For a few moments, his gaze slowly alternates between the ship and the obese dwarf. Looking forward. And backwards. Forwards. Backwards. "Oh. You're... a passenger too?" Feigning a smile at Glibnick, he gulps rather anxiously.

Is it just me, or does that ship look... rather small now?

[Virulain]

Antimony's eyes narrowed. Had an opportunity just been squandered? She stayed nearby, wondering what would happen next. Surely the old man wouldn't be so easily stifled. She measured the men who had restrained him; a dwarf and an elf. How... Convenient. Fat and slim together. Both looked like they might have made good eating for someone down in that hellhole... Though the elf probably wouldn't have lasted long enough. A dwarf? A while, at least. You're not in prison anymore, she reminded herself. No need to mark them up for good cuts.

After the old man was shooed away, she turned her attention to the self-named first mate. Huxley, she memorized. She cleared her throat. "I am Antimony, Antimony Wainwright. A singer. I dabble in a bit of this and that. I hope that when you sailors need a bit of levity, you'll think of me. Penny for a song, right?" She winked and it was as though the friendly bard of her memory had returned; the woman she was before, a haunt which momentarily possessed her. "She looks like a reliable lady," Antimony added, nodding toward the ship, and then embarked.

[HughtheHand]

Nelbin stands up and waits at the top of the gangplank as the stout dwarf lumbers his way onto the ship. Eyes much too large for their face gaze out at the dwarf, though they never seem to focus on anything. It's almost as if the enormous green eyes never quite decided where they both wanted to look, so they just settled on staring in a general direction. The hood of his cloak pulled back, Nelbin's wispy gray hair dances about in the sea air.

"That was a good thing you did, stopping that man with the knife. What people can do to themselves when in the grips of something beyond... Well, we all can imagine, can't we? I suppose you are bound for the Savage Coast as well, yes? I greet you. My name is Nelbin, oneironaut and devout of Desna. I have been praying for a safe and swift journey. May I ask your name, good dwarf?"

Nelbin's wide vapid eyes stare... towards Glibnick while his slender gnomish hands resting upon his belt. With the corners of his mouth teetering on the edge of a smile, Nelbin waits.

[Cedric]

Kai leans against the mainmast, trying not to get in the way of the working crew and boarding passengers. His eyes are fixed on the gangplank as the heavyset dwarf steps on board, his heart skips a beat as for a moment he fears it might be one of Helnars goons out to collect his dues, but quickly discards the notion They would be more subtle then send in a rolling boulder he muses to himself and visibly relaxes.

He nods towards Huxley as the first mate comes back on board, removing his hood and giving him a friendly smile "Fine day to you Master Huxley, I am Kai, Kai Kortel. Out of curiosity and perhaps even necessity can you appoint me to my lodgings?" he implores of the young man, wanting badly to get below deck before an unwelcome face sees him on board, or worse yet; before the gnawing ache in his stomach gets to tight of a hold on him and drags him back to The Dry Well.

He notices the shackled man out of the corner of his eyes and sudden familiarity flashes before him but he can't quite remember where he had seen the man before, so he tries to put a name, a time or a place to go with his face.

[Colatine]

"I am Jalamar," said the Dark Priest, as a way of introduction, to both Huxley and others, while still watching the crazed man stumbling away from them."and he's Zalen Tralfagar," he continued, emphasizing the last name as if it was supposed to mean something.


"Good on ya mate," said Huxley, shrugging, as the group boarded the ship

"Most of ye'r big enough, though I'm not sure what we could use ye two for" said the First Mate, appraising the not too robust forms of Kai and Antimoney, and to a lesser extent, Nelbin. Maybe ye'all would be good for the rigging and the crows nest!"

Some of the crew had stopped working, staring at the group. "Not another woman!" someone muttered.

"Quarters? they'd be below deck, to the right, the space'll be tighter than what you are used to." answered Huxley, to Kai's enquiry.

Huxley leads you down to your quarters — a small doorless room overcrowded
with bunks and hammocks, just barely large enough you to squeeze into. "We'd be setting sail with the rising sun, following the north west current. Ye'r free to explore as you please though no stealin and leave the Cap'ns Quarters alone."

[mcl01]

Cern nods as Huxley shows them around their quarters. He mutters a word or two of thanks, rather disappointed in their lodging. It's rather... cramped in here. Not much here to think about... It's quite depressing. I need some fresh air... Dumping his pack on a nearby hammock, he rummages through his belongings till he comes across an untidy stack of ink-smeared parchment. Light flowing script litters a few scattered pages in broken, haphazard phrases. Heavy lines of black slash across a few pages, occasionally spattered by heavy blotched stains of past ink spills. Reading a few lines, the elf grumbles and shoves the parchment back into his pack.

Turning to the door, Cern walks forward a few steps before looking back. Staring at his pack laying half open on the slowly swaying hammock, he almost thinks to leave it before thinking twice of it. Grabbing it by the strap, he slings it over his slender shoulders and heads out the door. Before he fully vanishes the wooden portal, he gives a quick nod to the others and offers a brief introduction. "Oh, and pleased to meet all of ya. I'm Cern. I don't suppose I've caught all of your names, but I suppose we'll be getting rather acquainted on this voyage of ours. Anyone fancy a trip above deck?"