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  #136  
Old Mar 16th, 2023, 01:26 AM
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Bingle Curiosa Wildwander, Forest Gnome Wizard/Warlock
right-aligned image
Bingle bounds down to the bottom of the stairs. One million statues. One million fishmen. And robots. Until seeing Creativity's bodyguards in Slatmrash, constructs were little and adorable, like Tumble's brid or Uncle Pucker's little clocks and gadgets. These great huge things are begging and broken. Carp!

Makaht is coming. Carp! What is Markaht. Carp! The gills and green of the blubbling priestess are horribly familiar. What if it's the same! exact! priestess! Makaht sounds awful, but the priestess is so bad she can kill you dead just for standing up in a boat. Bingle runs across the room, lobbing two shining black missiles at the priestess, and dives behind the bed there, leaving Harlan to sit on the bed rail and tell her what's happening.


ۜ\(סּںסּَ` )/ۜ
 


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Last edited by lostcheerio; Mar 16th, 2023 at 01:27 AM.
  #137  
Old Mar 16th, 2023, 02:52 AM
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Tempest
left-aligned image

Tempest was going to smear more ink onto the statue's cold abysmal eyes and then saw the devil girl! Who spoke to her! And was a lovely shade of violet-blue, which was admirable and surprising to see on Land. At her words, the Siren bowed her head towards her regally as though she had just granted her and Falco the right to exist and continue about their business. If Falco was NOT a friend of Bingle's, she'd have tried to stab him, because this is Bingle's ship.

The blue woman with the tiger stripes up along her neck narrowly looked at Falco most curiously, not quite understanding what he was saying about scars and being crewmates, though it didn't sound definitive to her. "Just while you are not a threat to Bingle Curiosa or my Ward Mermaids." After staring at Falco for a moment, her focus turned back to the devil-girl. "You are a lovely shade of blue. I will be pleased to meet your acquaintance and discuss matters of import." A devil girl from the BOOKS! Father would be shocked. And she's probably as interesting as she herself. But again, this Falco glittered like the stars above and helped a Mermaid. There is hope.

At the sound of a Sharkteethed Sahuagin, Tempest's eyes darkened in a bestial manner as her attention was drawn to the stairs. "They are out of the sea?!" Much to her surprise, that horrible noise was one of Them. In or out of the water - why would they be OUT of the water? - they must be killed. A snarl curled across her lips as she gritted her teeth, growling at Falco. "Statues after Sahuagin!" Then off she ran downstairs, trident in hand and her spectral weapon working its way after a very determined Siren.

Tempest swiftly followed the Sahuagin sounds, growing more and more incensed at the very thought of them hiding on this very ship while the sea was in a state of bloody chaos. What absolute cowards. At first sight of the Sahuagin, be it one or many, the sky blue Siren held her blue shield high once she was Within 5 feetclose. With the Elven word for 'Burn', she suddenly became enveloped in a silvery-blue fire that she willfully forced outwards to burn the sharkteethed enemy.
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Last edited by PlaidPeregrine; Mar 16th, 2023 at 11:58 PM.
  #138  
Old Mar 16th, 2023, 09:08 AM
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Fela, frontline
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Fela thought she was tracking down a lone and wounded Skerrin, not racing headlong and alone into a mass battle between constructs and fish people. The Sahuagin's claw reaches in past her sword and scratches her arm, the priestess knits their wounds up from afar, calls out behind her for some 'Makaht', and she's worried this is a terrible mistake, that she'll die here while Skerrin has slipped safely over the far side of the boat.

But she's not alone. The constructs don't like they'll be up to much, beat up as they are. She feels a wave of pleasure, seeing that -- they were Ketterman Barley's, and being on his boat is bringing home how the sweet and cultured seeming man had betrayed her family. But they seem intelligent enough to recognize her as a friend and not another intruder (for now), which is comfort. Bingle is there, blasting her dark rays at the Priestess and diving behind a table "Stay low there!" (don't need a repeat of the boat), Falco's little feet are pattering down toward her, and -- oh no, Fela tenses as another blue figure rushes up from behind her -- another Sahuagin? -- that erupts into a painfully bright light...which washes harmlessly over her burns the skin of the Sahuagin next to her.

"Thank Saliber!" the breath she'd instinctively held relaxes, and she slashes out at the Sahuagin with quick jabs from her blade, once, twice, edging toward the Priestess, and encouraging the constructs to do the same. "Take out the healer!"

Actions, etc.
Dice here, got a 15 on the asked for d100
Action: Attack normal Sahuagin between her and Priestess first, starting with the one she hurt last round. if they both go down will move to Priestess First blow hit for 5, second hit for 9.
Movement: Won't risk AoO, but as Sahuagin go down will edge her way toward Priestess, aiming to get in Melee range with her while staying adjacent to alliess/constructs as possible.
Reaction: Prioritise Interception fighting style, Tempest or Constructs, preventing
Dice Interception:
d10+3 (6)+3 Total = 9
(9) damage if one his with attack, AoO of it comes up otherwise.
Bonus action:
Status: Holding lantern in one hand, sword in the other

 
  #139  
Old Mar 17th, 2023, 02:57 PM
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The Wailing Maiden
right-aligned image
Falco Innovation looks relieved to have a job that doesn't involve "being slaughtered by Skerrin or Sahuagin," and she turns toward the mermaid as you blast the face off one bust and tear down the stairs. You can hear fighting another level below, so you head down into the bunk room where chaos reigns. Felice follows, her teeth and her little knives both flashing.

Bingle, What is Markaht. A name? A spell? You send Hell after the priestess. BLAM! BLAM! Is it her? You look her fronds and flaps but they all have fronds and flaps. That necklace, though. Tight, like a choker made of abalone and coral, very thick and blunt. Familiar beaded beadies. Same! Her! This is her!

Fela, you slam into the most hurt fellow, once, twice, and he is very nearly dead. The Blue woman who seems to be an ally is coming up behind you, and she finishes him in a flare of ---holy?---light, freeing you to make your way toward that vile priestess.

left-aligned image
Party the two Sahuagin foot (fin?) soldiers left do their best to put down the constructs. One falls into an unanimated mass of gears, but Fela intercepts the blow that would have felled the last. Still, he is barely cognizant and swishes his weapon around uselessly.

Skerrin stands up and moves behind a bunk, pulling out his hand-crossbow and releasing a bolt at Tempest. It thunks harmlessly into the ceiling, and he drops prone again.

The hated priestess quails as Fela charges at her. She lifts a webby hand and hiss-gurgles a spell that sounds like she is throwing up into her own mouth and then leaking steam, and a cold lethargy creeps up the paladin's limbs. She calls again, MARKAHHHHHHT!

At the other end of the boat, you all hear webby feet slapping across a wooden floor, and then a door flies open. Down the stairs he comes, a Sahuagin in actual metal armor, spears strapped to his back, a wicked trident in his hands. Two of his hands. He has more. Two more thoroughly gratuitous hands on the ends of a pair of extraneous arms.

Tempest, your mother has told you about these. The four-arms. They are bad! This one is at least only medium sized, so likely a Champion? Barons, you know, can be 9 or 10 feet tall.

He pauses on the stairs, taking in the scene he has been called to by the priestess. He gaze locks on you, and his eyes widen. Siiiiiiren! he says, and one of his extra hands makes an obscene gesture at you while the other grabs one of the spears off his back and lofts it across the bunkroom.

There is power in all those arms, and the spear pierces your pearl armor and drives itself into your flesh.


OOC

HERE IS YOUR MAP

name health ac damage conditions concentrating
bingle35/3313 ma +5 half cover PRONE, ranged at disadvantage 
falco27/3812   
fela26/4416/18-5 DC12 WIS saving throw or paralyzed. Can repeat at end of turn.
Felice24/2415   
tempest18/3817-8  
Construct1/?14   
skerrinHURT15 (+2 for half cover)+8 PRONE (ranged is at disadvantage) 
1DEAD12-6 +8 -7 -5 -9  
2HURT12+8  
3HURT12+8  
PriestessHURT12-9 -5  
MarkahtHEALTHY16   

Sorry Plaid--She would have to go down 2 flights of stairs from the deck to get into the battle room. You I think were counting only one set of stairs and did not make her go through the galley to get to the bunk room? I moved Tenpest as far as she can go with the most generous interpretation of distance and kinda fudged it to let Fela get out of your way. The good news is, the trident was a ten feet underwater right beside the boat. I read the description as "this thing CAN pass through walls," so it could get to where I put it this round.

P~, With one down, Fela can use had enough movement to get to the priestess. That's her full movement, but you can place her differently if you like.

EVERYONE, Going OVER bunks is difficult terrain (10 feet of movement instead of 5) but only on the way UP, down is free/regular.

Goonie I moved Felice, but please run her combat. This turn she dashed.
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Last edited by Fillyjonk; Mar 17th, 2023 at 03:00 PM.
  #140  
Old Mar 18th, 2023, 05:27 PM
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Tempest
left-aligned image

Ah! The enemy fearfully left the water to hide from Tempest in the belly of this ship! Bingle Curiosa's crew, no doubt, were fighting a righteous battle and have saved the Priestess for their Sorceress' personal glory. She will claim this victory for herself since this was her ship! How intriguing these surface people are.

The Siren offered a nod of acknowledgement to Fela, noting her shield and armor as well as her bravery as the warrior pushed forward at the first opportunity. As the radiant flames around her died down, as did one victim, Tempest saw the horrible four armed "Champion"-MARKAHHHHHHT-Sahuagin slap its ugly annoying finny feet as he entered the room. And it basically flipped her off. Ha!

Tempest bared her teeth, hissing, as her eyes locked with the beast. The audacity this 'Champion' had throwing a spear so suddenly at her before she was able to insult it properly. The spear piercing her armor so violently, and then through flesh and bone was startling. She was thrown back a few feet and accidentally cried out in the pain that ripped into her. Now the Siren was angry, offended, and secretly was hoping she wasn't alone. Sirens are solitary creatures, after all, and this one was not about to admit she was in way over her head, but she was in way over her head demonstrated clearly by the spear in her chest. That of which she curled her fingers around after leaning her trident against her neck. With a painful yank and throw, she noticed Felice's delicate-but-not-delicate seeming self next to her, looking unarmed. "Use that to defend yourself."

Within seconds, the Siren snarled with a feral gleam in her eyes as she leapt upon the bed next to her, foot sinking into a feather-stuffed pillow, and bound across it before leaping down and arriving at the other warrior's side. Having read about knights fighting back to back, or side by side, and HUZZAH and all that, this was The Thing To Do in such a situation. But Fela did not seem to be doing well or huzzah'ing, and the slimy Priestess was full of sharky tricks - or more like a cone snail sort of trick; Fela was looking like a little blue-striped fish before it was eaten. Well, that wouldn't do. Before the woman lost her balance completely, Tempest moved to prop her up with her shield arm and quietly called upon the Elven goddess Aerdrie Faenya to Lesser Restoration cast for Paralysisneutralize the Priestess' paralyzing spell and restoring her to a state of killing. This was quickly followed by her slamming the end of her trident to the wooden floor dramatically. "You will not fall to her." The Siren stated.

Tempest shouted at the four-armed-sharktooth with defiance and command. "Champion! I, Tempest, challenge you as a Siren of great repute to combat on the deck of this ship, under the moon, where ALL could witness Your Defeat and my glory!" Because fighting in these small quarters is cramped. NOT. Because she wants to buy time. She shot a narrow-eyed vicious glance at Skerrin with his crossbow, outright ignoring the too-beneath-her Sahuagin next to her before eyeing the "Champion" again with her head held high as her blood soaked through her lovely silky tunic most uncomfortably and painfully.
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Last edited by PlaidPeregrine; Mar 20th, 2023 at 11:51 PM. Reason: Correcting for spell error. :D
  #141  
Old Mar 18th, 2023, 10:42 PM
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What happens below deck
right-aligned image

Falco expected t' find Skerrin below fightin' an automaton or two, and he did. But he certainly didn't think there'd be more o' th' piscine invaders or a priestess helpin' 'im. That priestess looked a lot like th' one they'd met before an' worse o' all, she had th' audacity t' heal that rat Skerrin. From th' look o' things, they were aimin' t' plunder th' bounty what had already promised! Not while this corsair stands an' glows.

When th' biggun sloshed 'nto th' fray, Falco flashed a wild grin at Felice before runnin' over t' climb a bunk fer a better view o' th' battle. Grippin' th' sea glass disc what hung from 'is neck he channeled energy an' starlight through once more. "Casting Guiding Bolt with star map: 9(Sad Face)Let me stars light yer path t' Hell!" Falco shouted an' released th' beam o' light what struck th' mast with a spectacular flash 'n' spark.

He cursed in druidic an' plucked a shinin' arrow from where a quiver might be an' looked th' statue what was watchin' with unblinkin' eyes from where Skerrin were hidin'. "Where'd they take 'em, Waverunner?" Falco called as he Miss with 10threw th' star bolt at th' statue's head whilst lookin' at Skerrin t' make it seem a bad throw. He didn't need th' actin' none as th' throw, coincidentally, were awful. This weren't how he pictured claimin' th' ship would go atall. Nor how he imagined th' party t' end.

Felice smiled an' ran after th' Hin, she'd be needin' t' look after their investment, after all. She knew th' Hall would hold an' th' bar weren't as interestin' as this, even on a good night. It weren't often she were given th' chance t' cut loose an' competent adventurers were somethin' o' value t' th' Zhentarim.

Th' ship were crawlin' with stinkin' Sahuagin, Felice crinkled her nose an frowned. An' now they had a huge one! She crouched low on a bunk an' slotted a bolt in her little crossbow. Then, th' blue woman were tossin' her a spear t' "defend herself". Th' Savoien lady watched it clatter t' th' floor with a raised eyebrow an' said "Thanks," but th' woman were gone. Tempest were her name, she were a siren an' apparently challengin' th' hulkin' brute t' a duel or somethin'.

Her crossbow were near silent, it woulda been if'n it were dry, when it fired a bolt 'nto th' Sahuagin between her an' th' priestess. It 13 to hit for 10 damagestruck with a disgustin' squelch an' nearly disappeared in a scaly side. Next Felice abandoned her perch fer a more desirable spot behind a mast.

Mechanics
Drink Counter: 3/3
5 temporary hit points.
Advantage on Charisma ability and skill checks and saving throws.
Advantage on saving throws made against fear.
Resistance to Psychic Damage.

Disadvantage on Wisdom and Dexterity saving throws.
Disadvantage on Intelligence and Wisdom skill checks
Liquid Courage for 1 hour.

 

 

 

 


Felice's turn

 

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  #142  
Old Mar 19th, 2023, 05:31 AM
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Fela, back from the future
left-aligned image

At first Fela thinks the cold is just the shock from the cold seawater, still pouring off her onto the fine planking of the ship. But as it spreads more, it's clear the Priestess's gurgle hadn't merely been her gasping for water, but working some fishy magic upon her, the same that had killed Bingle. Would she spend a hundred boring years in a demiplane? Or maybe, feeling her arms grow ever heavier, heavier even then during her desperate struggle to stay afloat, she's turning to stone to like Bingle, like one of Barley's statues. Had Bingle felt or thought anything during that time? She hadn't asked, but hoped not. And a vision of herself as a statue passes over her, on display in the Great Hall of the Watchers. Hundreds of years are compressed into the neverending instant of the vision. Statue-Fela stuck there, well, watching.

Watching a young squire stop to look at her, admiring the sword and precise military stance, wondering what evil the brave Springer was smiting. Watching the same squire now as a Springer herself, focused now on her torch, the sculptor's skill in capturing the flames feints and flashes in stone, seeing not the military strength but the spiritual one, spreading the light of Saliber across the too dark world. Watching the Springer age into a Ritter, near retirement, still studying the statue but seeing not a paragon of virtue, honorouing god and glory, but moved to pity by the flawed humanity of emotions written into the statue's face. Anger in the delicate stone eyebrow hairs, fear in the wide, sparkling eyes, determination written clearly in every wrinkle of the brow: all tell that its sculptor well those passions read which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things. Youthful vibrancy and arrogance, but somehow also the cold and austere weight of Duty.

And all the while, as generations whizz past her unmoving form in the hall, something's watching through her. Kettering or Nexa, it's unclear, but something shady and powerful is in her. She's not the paragon of Watcherly virtue the fleeting generations stop to study, but a plague-corrupted leaf that threatens to sicken the whole order. O rose thou art sick. Belak. Her father was right to banish her.

But just as the cold was curling up through her arms, from her fingers toward her heart, a warmth rises up behind her. A comforting pressure against her back, a peaceful warmth -- not as bright and intense as Saliber but more like the first waking rays of Marisol. And the sharp crack of Tempest's Trident and her boastful challenge snap her back from her vision and into the ship.

But part of the vision is still with her. Even as she launches forward to the Priestess, sword snickering back and snackering forth across the Priestress's arms and sides, every inch the Springer that the young squire saw in her, echoing the bravado of her unknown blue saviour with a "Thanks! Fela Markig, Springer, at your service!" there's a depth of feeling in her eyes, a sorrow, a knowingness -- the pity of the aged Ritter. Fela stays close to the newcomer, shield ready to catch her should she fall in turn, or hopefully to catch any blows that fall upon her.

Actions, etc.
Dice here
Posting while map is down and can't remember if the Sahuagin Felice shot is within 10' of Fela, to trigger her curse; but the 13 wasn't enough to hit her.
Action: Attack Priestess with sword (moving to last Sahuagin if downs it?) 11 damage on first hit, 8 on second.
Movement: Map was down when I posted, but will stay within 5' of Tempest but not get between her and the Champion, even if it risks an AoO from the Priestess
Reaction: Prioritise Interception fighting style against Tempest (or anyone else) preventing
Dice Interception:
d10+3 (10)+3 Total = 13
(13) damage if one his with attack, AoO of it comes up otherwise.
Bonus action:
Status: Holding lantern in one hand, sword in the other

 
  #143  
Old Mar 19th, 2023, 05:35 PM
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Bingle Curiosa Wildwander, Forest Gnome Wizard/Warlock
right-aligned image
She drops behind the bed. The necklace. It's the kind of thing her mother would call exotic. Politely meaning bad. Things from the sea are wholly different from things from the pond. Agate: yes. Pearl: no. Trilobite: yes. Shark teeth: no. But even though it means the actual priestess and identifies this horrible person of most death, Bingle wants to have this necklace, and put it in her hands and feel the weird red fingers, touch the opalescent flat disks. Maybe taste them even. She wants to be traveled, and know things, and casually say "years ago" and "far away from here" and meet blue-skinned people with glowing tridents, and pirates like Falco, and warriors like Fela, and thinkers like Tumble, and get inducted into wizard guilds, and gamble, and die.

It's not that bad of a thing, that she died, she tells herself. It's just a thing that Jelbi Gimble never got to do. Thus fortified, she makes herself stand up, on a boat, to shoot at the priestess again.

She sees:
1. A giant freaking fishman.
A. Four arms.
B. FOR MAKING BAD GESTURES.
2. Tempest.
A. Ripping the spear out of her neck to arm Felice
B. Gamboling over beds like an angry otter.
C. Fixing Fela.

"Fela, Falco, this is Tempest!" Bingle yells. "Tempest, this is Fela and Falco! Friends! Friends!" Obviously. But. She is polite. "ROAST, FISHFACE. THE PRINCESS OF HELL HAS MARKED YOU FOR HER NEXT MEAL!" she screams at the Priestess, as Halran launches himself at the bulging eyes! When the boiling black mist has risen from Malbolge and swept across the cabin to congeal around the necklace like a fist, Bingle sends two evil balls pounding after it.


ۜ\(סּںסּَ` )/ۜ
 


ۜ\(ಠ_ಠ)/ۜ
 
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Last edited by lostcheerio; Mar 19th, 2023 at 05:40 PM.
  #144  
Old Mar 20th, 2023, 02:01 PM
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The Wailing Maide[QUOTE]n
left-aligned image
Tempest, Sahuagin are trash, your mother says. Their hatred for your kind is based in fear, because she doesn't suffer them to live if they come into her waters. You offer him a duel, try to draw him up; he is a champion, no cowering little fin-foot soldier. He understands common, you see, understands your challenge. Maybe it even tempts him.

But then he shakes his heavy head, snarling at you, and spits out an order in Sahuagin. Not a language you know. But you know these creatures. He is forbidding it. None will take your challenge. An insight! Whatever this particular squad of Sahuagin is doing on this boat, it is covert! SECRET! They do not want to be seen by the land-people! What secret or what item are they after?!

Falco, Felice shoots her small bow. Her aim is true, but the bolt swerves and takes a sharp turn, heading for Fela, where it plinks harmlessly off her armor. Sangdieu! Je suis désolé, Paladin! Why is my bolt called to you? Felice cries out. She eyeballs the spear she let fall, but leaves it in favor of her own wicked daggers as she slithers behind the mast.

Your glowing bolt smashes sparks against the other mast, and you call out to Skerrin, asking after the stolen couple. To your surprise, he seems to be weighing his options. You think he might even answer you. But no, instead, he calls out in Sahuagin to Markaht, but he doesn't seem to know a word, and falters so what he says sounds a lot like, GLURB BLURB'N BARGLE WHONK...uh, hat. A hat? Markaht blinks at him, mystified. BLURBLOO me---um BLURB--- bubble cap? Breath cap! Markaht snaps something back, and Skerrin's expression darkens. If they are out of the hats, or if this crew has no such objects, Skerrin is ****ed. Maybe you can use this?

Fela, you begin to freeze, and you see yourself rendered as cold as still as the stone statues that line Creativity's gilded prison-ship. Will your father come to take his stilled daughter home to watch, or leave you here, permanently banished? You know your bird is in his hands by now. Perhaps is answer is coming back to you already? What will he say?

In your freezing despair, maybe you fear his answer, fear being stuck here forever, but then this blue-skinned ally --- Tempest? -- is beside you. Yes, Tempest. Bingle is hollering polite introductions as if this were a ballroom, not a battle. As if this were a ballroom. As if--- you freeze in time to music, see her wide, ice blue compelling eyes. So beautiful.

right-aligned image
How can you help but kiss her when you are stone, and so is Bingle. Her little statue is beside yours, cold as you, hands lifted as if to protect herself, face big-eyed with dismay and horror. A silver tray holding an exotic cocktail has been balanced on her uplifted hands. It is as if her statue is offering yours a drink, and somehow, stone-you can reach, take it, taste. It is tart and fresh and ice cold, lemony, complex and so beautiful---nothing has ever tasted---so sweet---the cold ---the song---

Warmth washes through you, Tempest pulls you back into yourself, and you wheel and bring your sword down on the priestess, once, twice! She is almost cut in half.

Bingle, you stand up in a boat.

Crazy! WHAT WOULD BANX SAY! But you do it, and you know what? Last time, this priestess was a head and a neck, only some shoulders and her wrong weird necklace poked up out of the sea. Here, today---SHE STOOD UP IN A BOAT FIRST. She teeters at the edge of life, bleeding out all her gross blood from Fela's sword-wounds, and you Hex her, wreathing her in a second necklace, ephemeral and roiling and hellish.

What is Halran doing? He flies right to her, swoop, swoop, and his scribbly little feet grab that necklace and clutch and pull. You send a black ball of tarry death her way, and it is fueled by history. It finishes her, blasting her off to Hell where she once tried to send you. The bunk room smells like sulfur and---well, like the tiefling part of town. When the wind blows over their warehouses to Ten Fang Fury, the air takes on a scent like this---smoked fish. As she falls, the clasp breaks, and there is Halran clutching the ugly clunky thing, wings beating frantic to stay aloft with the weight of it. SO. THERE.

Back you go to your snooch-bunk, pausing only to send a second hell-ball at a foot soldier. Do you even see it bang hard into him and make him burble in mad pain? Or are you too busy diving down?

Party, one foot soldier and snaps and rakes at the construct, missing him entirely as he janks and jives, hollering, HA HA! NOT TODAY, FISHMA--- but that is where he stops, as a bit from the other ends his sentence and his existence. It turns and slashes at Fela to no avail.

The champion says, Blood. I smell your blood in the water! This is a metaphor? No water here. He sinks teeth deep in Fela and then slashes at Tempest with both hands. Fela intercedes, paying the Siren back by knocking one hand full away with her blade. Still, his left claws rake at Tempest. YOU DIE HERE! YOU MUST! He informs you. Says who?

Skerrin stands up, fires a small bolt at Falco, and he is far enough from Fela that the missile passes her and finds purchase in the starry form. He gurgles out more angry words to Markaht, then runs up the stairs. He throws the door open and pauses there. Fhe free interaction-ed the door open but can't close it this round.alco and Felice can still see him from the waist down.


OOC

HERE IS YOUR MAP


name health ac damage conditions concentrating
bingle35/3313 ma +5 half cover PRONE, ranged at disadvantage 
falco23/3812-4  
fela21/4416/18-5 -5
tempest13/3817-8 -7 +7 -5  
Construct1/?14   
skerrinVERY hurt17 (in half cover)+8 Up half flight, only see legs, half cover 
1DEAD12-6 +8 -7 -5 -9  
2VERY HURT12-9  
3HURT12   
PriestessDEAD    
MarkahtHEALTHY16   

Plaid, Alas, Lesser Restoration and Shield of Faith are both leveled spells, so you can't cast them in the same round. Please refund yourself a level 1 spell slot as Shield did not go off. This round you can take an extra Bonus action (any one that is not a leveled spell).

With permission I changed Bingle's second target as the priestess was dead.

EVERYONE saw where Skerrin went but only Felice and Falco have line fo sight currently.

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Last edited by Fillyjonk; Mar 20th, 2023 at 02:12 PM.
  #145  
Old Mar 20th, 2023, 09:56 PM
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Oughta stay below
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Ain't it jus' like a rat t' try'n scurry up an' outta a sinkin' ship? That's what Skerrin were doin' right now. He were scared. Ye could see 'im runnin' th' sums in 'is lyin' eyes an' comin' up wantin'. Falco smiled, jus' a lil, at that. Also upon witnessin' Bingle dispatch th' very fish priestess what presumably sent her t' Kreb's Hell dagger. His heart were filled with pride an' elation but also, behind it all, were a seethin' rage. These slimy scoundrels wanted t' steal this ship. {i]His[/i] ship what he already made arrangements for an' spent a good amount o' gold on. Th' ship what could take 'im where Bramble's map pointed. Where he might be findin' th' Dusk Maiden, an' Garrick.

Falco had no intentions o' lettin' Skerrin offa th' hook fer these multitudes o' transgressions. T' think, he even wanted t' stop Kasja from fightin' th' old man back then. "Where ye gonna go, Skerrin, after cuttin' an' burnin' here?"

He pulled another twinklin' arrow from th' air an' sent it 21 to hit for 6 radiantstreakin' like a comet 'nto th' fishman between him an' 'is Rat. "Do Cinderrabbit be understandin' o' partial failures? Ye know what we be capable of an' ye know this heap ain't got enough arms t' kill us all. Where did they take Anders an' Shella?" As Falco stepped offa th' bed, he cupped 'is hand t' pull from th' weave. "Produce flame: 12 to hit #3 for 11 fire damageThese sahuagin are startin' t' burn me up." A ball o' flames kindled in 'is hand which he threw at th' fishman before hoppin' up on a bunk an' boundin' after Skerrin.

Felice were sure it weren't her aim, somethin' else were at play here. Whatever it were, she wouldn't be duplicatin' th' phenomenon any time soon. With a slight frown, she dropped her crossbow an' left her shadow t' help th' Paladin an' Siren. A few quick steps an' she were behind an' already injured sahuagin. A flash o' sliver an' her 16 to hit #2 for 14 damagethin blade were in fish skin up t' th' hilt. "We must nothing," she retorted.

Mechanics
Drink Counter: 3/3
5 temporary hit points.
Advantage on Charisma ability and skill checks and saving throws.
Advantage on saving throws made against fear.
Resistance to Psychic Damage.

Disadvantage on Wisdom and Dexterity saving throws.
Disadvantage on Intelligence and Wisdom skill checks
Liquid Courage for 1 hour.

 

 

 

 


Felice's turn

 

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  #146  
Old Mar 21st, 2023, 01:20 AM
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Tempest
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Glorious! Fela Markig Springer was ever-so true to her word and served the Siren well with a quick thrust of her sword to block one vicious clawed slash of the Champion's violent expression of hatred toward the blue stranger. The Priestess was nearly cut in half as well; such fighting from these Humans and Hins and Hin-Gnomes was exhilaratingly unexpected. They did not fight like flailing-about pirates on a sinking ship, that's for sure!

"Friends! Ah ha!" Tempest exclaimed with a wink at Fela after Bingle's introduction. She would have actually laughed at such a word..friends. It's utterly a bookish word, and one her Father used now and again to an endeared bemusement between herself and her more feral Mother. He tried to explain what it meant, but the concept was so very Sea Elf or Mermaid-ish. Friends. Sisters. Even Brethren carried the same, what was it? A warmth about his eyes like when Father said he loved them - his family. It made more sense in books and seemed to stem from childhood, and then ended in betrayal over a 'Comely Lass in the Tavern' or 'Strikingly Handsome Fellow of the Manor'. It was as though she were in one of her novel STORIES….just a lot more painful and sticky-bloody.

"Huzzah!" Tempest growled out her cheer with a wide toothy smile with eyes lit with delight at the Priestess' sulphury, well-deserved end. The cheer was cut short with a second slash after Fela getting chomped upon in such a desperate manner. As the slash pulled away at her lovely blue skin revealing blood, the divine storm rose in her quickly and BOOM'd back at the Champion as punishment for touching her, hurting her, and being so horribly secretive. As her pain grew, the Siren snarled as she held her trident hand against her chest in Cure Wounds at 1stwhispered prayer as a warm glow of light offered her some brief healing comfort.

"You refuse to be seen on the topside? You are HIDING doing SECRET evil with dead-not-dead? You are neutered and cannot show your exalted greatness of fighting a Siren, a Hell Princess, a Knight-Human, a Star-Caller, and Sneaky-Blade-Slasher? You fight dishonored! YOU must die now." Tempest tried to mock the four-armed-Fishface with a cruel grin. Perhaps the Siren should focus more on her stabbing techniques with her spectral trident than with a barbed tongue, for her plunging the floating three-pronged weapon flew harmlessly past the oversized Sahuagin's meaty scaled body not once, but twice. Not that she'd admit it, but having such a monstrous merciless creature before her wanting her dead now gave her an inkling of a shaking up deep inside somewhere. Nothing has threatened her so seriously before, to her face after actually hurting her. This was a very peculiar situation, and not being in the sea or under the sky may have put her on edge for a brief moment of weakness that had thrown her off her too-tall throne.

Maybe this 'friend' thing wasn't something to laugh at.
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Last edited by PlaidPeregrine; Mar 21st, 2023 at 02:09 PM.
  #147  
Old Mar 21st, 2023, 08:03 AM
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Bingle Curiosa Wildwander, Forest Gnome Wizard/Warlock
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The necklace. Hahahaha HA! Oh HA! Oh very HA! Harlan, sweet little fluffy Harlan, peels the vile thing off the neck of the mrudering priestess, and struggles along back with it. Good bird! And Bingle lifts the swirling black cloud of evil off the dropped priestess and drapes it around Markaht.

She thinks to Harlan to drape a pillowcase over one of the statues.

Bingle loves Tempest's list of names. So ispniring! "Yeah! You'll never take this ship, you foul sand-crawling badnits!" she screeches. "For the Ten Fang Fury Mutual Joint Stock Company is here to protect it from your thieving and priating! No priates will steal ships from Slatmrash while we live!"

Whoosh! She blows a barrage of black evil orbs at the four-armed monsters. A barrage? An onslaught. Onslaught! An Olsnaught!


ۜ\(סּںסּَ` )/ۜ
 


ۜ\(ಠ_ಠ)/ۜ
 
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Last edited by lostcheerio; Mar 21st, 2023 at 08:07 AM.
  #148  
Old Mar 21st, 2023, 09:29 AM
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Fela, when fighting on a ship, join the repartee
left-aligned image

It's a shock, snapping from the languid stillness of her vision to the rapid chaos the battle. From watching a whole generation pass, unblinking, to everything changing in a blink -- all the Sahuagin but the champion down, the last construct as well, Skerrin exiting stage left -- stage port? -- pursued by a hin. Ballroom melodies replaced with battlefield grunts and clanks and gurgles. The sweet, lemony taste of the drink replaced by brimstone and blood -- maybe Markhat was being metaphorical, smelling blood in the water, but Fela can literally taste it in the air. The only thing consistent between vision and reality is the cold -- her waterlogged clothes, her worried heart.

She wants the stillness back, wants years to ponder what it all means -- Bingle's drink, the music. The bravado of her "at your service" feels all wrong, cheap and meaningless compared to what she'd just seen. But she's not in the vision anymore, she's standing in front of a giant fish-thing with too many arms, even for fish-things, while insults and battle jests fly faster than the magical bolts. It's just right for here, swashbuckling with her friends, new and old.

"You heard my friends!" she joins in, feinting with her lantern but Markhat doesn't even twitch "Huzzah! You're floundering and washed up, time to be gutted!" after her failed feint the fish-champion's blade easily intercepts her own with a clink. "Your investments are overleveraged, the market's crashed, and the creditors are beating at your door" She wasn't sure what Bingle was on about with this Joint Stock Company but she wasn't about to leave a friend hanging. She redirects her blade immediately after the clink, and it grazes against Markhat's side, but not with enough force to do any damage.

"We've got this fish all but landed, Falco -- don't let his human flunky slip off the line and slither through the net!", trying to give herself confidence as she angles her sword to help catch the next incoming blow.

Actions, etc.
Dice here
Action: Attacked Markhat with her sword, barely missing with each blow.
Movement: None.
Reaction: Prioritise Interception fighting style against Tempest (or anyone else) preventing
Dice Interception:
d10+3 (1)+3 Total = 4
(4) damage if one his with attack, AoO of it comes up otherwise.
Bonus action:
Status: Holding lantern in one hand, sword in the other

 
  #149  
Old Mar 21st, 2023, 02:53 PM
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PEACING OUT
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Falco, your starry arrow and your fire ends one of the soldiers, and Felice's wicked blades end the second. You look around the bunk room, and there are better odds now. Much better. You take off after that rat, Skerrin. At the top of the stairs, you see the door swing shut, and then the unmistakable sound of a bolt being thrown home. He has locked the door.

Tempest, your spiritual weapon may be off, but your reproachful thunder rolls over the champion who dared to strike at you. You channel a little of your god's healing energy, but even so, it feels good to have this Fela Markig Springer's blade as a friend, that is certain. You aren't too nervous to taunt Markaht, and your jibes land; his nostrils clap open and shut in a rage.

You dare---PAH! I shall not abandon my great mission to duel such as you. I am a champion! He tries to stop there, but he just can't help himself. And if you hadn't killed my consort, she would testify that I am quite virile. Like, SUPER virile.

Bingle, UP YOU GO, and it isn't hard to sliiiiide that roiling hex up off the corpse of your dead enemy and onto the champion. You press pause on being Bingle and become ONSLAUGHT just long enough to blast him. Halran comes back your way, dropping the necklace onto a bunk so he can drape a pillowcase over the eyes of one of the busts. Onslought subsides, and --- Snooch! Never let it be said that you don't understand the dangers of boats, and the standing up therein.

right-aligned image
Fela, Bingle is deploying the language of Good Business. You join her, and he blinks, non-plussed. Where he is from, they are innocent of compound interest. "Gutted," now, that he understands.

Gill-Less land worm! How dare you speak so to Markaht! On any other day, I would eat your tender brains and the siren's from the fresh cups of your removed heads! But you shall not sway me from my mission.

Big talk, but the guy is agitated.

Party, He turns away and flap-foots his speedy way up the stairs. His clothes (if his harness and shell accouterments can be granted such a title) all have a Savage-Monster-From-Under-the-Sea aesthetic. Therefore, it strikes you all as a little odd that he has a leather fannypack situation hung on his hips. It is dry and embossed with horses. Not sea horses, either. Land horses, like your Tackies.

The door slams. You all hear another bolt slide home.


OOC

HERE IS YOUR MAP


Markaht closed the door he came through as a free interaction, but he had to use his action to lock it. That means Tempest AND Fela can have an attack of opportunity.

Busting through either locked door is an action and a DC 15 athletics check, or if you have thieves tools, an action and a DC 15 sleight of hand to pick it.

If you want to go up the OTHER side, remember only the two staircases that are at the edge of the room go up to the dining room. You must also go up the single staircase that leads up to the deck. I drew red arrows and lines to show you the two possible routes up. ALL those doors, we can assume, are open, as you came down that way.

name health ac damage conditions concentrating
bingle35/3313 ma +5 half cover PRONE, ranged at disadvantage 
falco23/3812-4  
fela21/4416/18-5 -5
tempest17/3817-8 -7 +7 -5 +4  
skerrinVERY hurt17 (in half cover)+8 Out of sight 
MarkahtHURT16 -7 -11 out of sight 

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Last edited by Fillyjonk; Mar 21st, 2023 at 03:04 PM.
  #150  
Old Mar 22nd, 2023, 05:12 PM
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Fela, door in face
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"Maybe this will sway you from your 'mission'", slashing at the champion one more time as Markaht turns back toward the stairs he came down, finally connecting this time. But her blow gives him time to get a step ahead, and Fela races after him, continuing the bantering taunts the whole way, until he slams and bolts the door just ahead of her. "You could use some brains -- worms don't have legs! And what's so pressing you can't -- hey! Come back and fight!"

Fela kicks out at the door in petulant, raging reflex, and despite being barred she feels the wood at the impact bend and splinter under foot -- nice as it is, it's still just a ship -- but ultimately not break. She turns back down the steps cursing -- well, she's pretty sure she's cursing in giant or dwarvish or something, but it's really just something she picked up from Finn and assumed was a curse. "Door's too strong -- head up the other way and stop this perv of a fish from -- whatever!"



Actions, etc.
Dice here
Reaction from last round: AoO against Markaht, hitting for 8 slashing damage.
Movement: Up to door that Markaht left through, then back down into room when she fails to kick it down
Action: Tried to kick down door, failed by one.
Status: Holding lantern in one hand, sword in the other

 
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