Tired of all these monkey-fighting pirates on his Monday-to-Friday boat, Bob takes the initiative to root them in place. Try shoving people around now, you attention-grabbing magical slutbag.

Icy Rays: 9 damage to Scallywag & Mage, both immobilized, mage bloodied

Delic stealthily creeps up behind the last Scallywag, and by creeps, I mean he doesn't really move at all, and by stealthily I mean he's totally obvious and they dodge him no problem.

But other than that he's like, boom, a ninja!

"Sword Strike": miss

Dispensing with his companion's attempt at subtlety, Garrmondo does the simple thing and just lops the Scallywag's head off. He watches, bemused, as it rolls down the deck and bounces over the railing. The head, beautifully airborne for a brief, shining moment, sparkles prettily in the light of the setting sun.

Crushing Surge: Scallywag killed

With her feet frozen to the platform, the mage is quite unable to retreat back up the mast from the mob slowly closing in on her. A poorly-aimed magic missile in Bob's direction does nothing to improve her situation.

:savepoint: Motsognir, Gabriel, Bob, Delic, Garrmondo, Pirate Mage

Sooo, sooo sorry for the holdup on this post, totally my fault

Motsognir, never one to be beaten down, stands up and starts climbing the mast again.

The dwarf smirked as he slowly made his way to look up at the woman. (move to AB 22) Setting his holy symbol infront of his shield, he called out to her, chastising her for her whore of Babylon ways. (Full Defense, Divine Challenge)

Rattling through my lexicon of vaguely more impressive, once a fight spells, I nonchalently flipped a necrotic ray off towards the pirate mage. If I was honest, I was tiring of this fight and wanted to play with the cannons and my lack of concentration caused the beam to shoot well wide.

Ray of Enfeeblement on pirate mage, moving within range first if I'm not already

"You are cold as the waters that surround you, Sea-Tree! I am sure you will find warmth with the fire in the blood of the dead that lay at your feet, like some sacrifice to the ancient prayer god of the Chal'thar!"

Putting away his sword, Delic grabs onto one of the free vines that swing near the Sea-Tree, climbing up the great wooden monolith, hand over hand.

"You are as beautiful as the wind through the tall grasses, oh great and mighty God found only in the ocean - but you keep the poorest of company! Surely, an ancient and wise creature such as yourself has been poisoned by the foul magics of this unnatural mage! I shall slay her and in doing so, free you from her hex!"

Grabs rope, climbs mast

Motsognir leaps to his feet and promptly returns to scaling the mast. You may have won that battle, Gravity, but Soggy will win the war. Oh yes.

Gabriel lacks his kinsman's enthusiasm for heights. He decides it wiser to stay firmly on the deck, bringing the enemy to himself by way of taunting and derision. Many paladins considered themselves above that sort of thing, but Gabe refused to discard a useful technique. It was astonishing the egos you routinely find on a garden-variety goblin or xvart. The sea-witch glowers in his direction.

Bob flicks off a random spell and crosses his arms impatiently. For a dramatic struggle amongst the rocks this was dragging on a bit. It was obvious the pirate mage didn't have the bona fides to take them all out so Bob refused to feel any special enthusiasm for dealing with her. Just wake him when it's time to loot the corpses, eh?

The pathetic mortal drones of the Terrible Sea-Witch lay dead at his feet, and Delic's bold heart swelled with confidence. Taking the rigging in hand, he swiftly clambers upward to end the fight. He glances over at the dwarf also ascending and grins; she can't knock them both down. Well, probably.

Garrmondo looks on his companions skeptically as they enthusiastically hurl themselves at the mast. Hadn't that already worked out badly for both of them? This is why you buy yourself a nice bow, so you don't have to go chasing every lunatic that thinks that being 30 feet in the air puts them out of harm's way. He'd end this here and now. Garrmondo pulls back the string, lines up his shot, and — damn it all, a shot in the leg wasn't going to be fatal. There was no better time to try out his new gloves.

He squeezes his left hand into a fist, and the flight of the arrow seems to slow to a majestic crawl as it whirled through the sea air toward the mage. He gestures, carefully, with his right hand, and the missile's trajectory slowly begins to curve toward — whoa, whoa! Too much! Stop stop stop stop stop —

The "corrected" arrow nearly misses, only just barely drawing blood as it whistles past the mage's shoulder. Still, with a little practice...

Garrmondo loved the Luckbender Gloves. They're so bad.

Cursing the dwarf, the mage runs out onto the spars. Fairly nimble by any normal standard, the rocking boat combines with her preoccupation with the dwarf's taunting and she loses her footing and falls. Hurtling toward the deck, the mage tucks into a roll and manages to get back to her feet in one piece — only to find herself surrounded by her foes. Soggy looks down from his position halfway up the mast, cursing under his breath.

8 damage to mage from hilarious anticlimax

:savepoint: Motsognir, Gabriel, Bob, Delic, Garrmondo, Pirate Mage

My dwarf and the strange newcomer began to climb the rigging towards our remaining foe, whilst the ugly dwarf glowered up at her and our own camp pirate shot an arrow through her shoulder. In the face of such martial prowess, the enemy mage performed a graceful backflip off the mast before landing on the deck. Personally, I would have tried to land on my feet rather than my face but each to their own.

With the mage now in axe range of the ugly dwarf, this fight was only going to end one way. I was tempted to forego attacking the mage in favour of some dramatic victory celebration but there was always a risk of the mage jumping overboard before we had time to prise her belongings from her dead hands, the celebrations could wait.

I swung my arm around and lashed out with an icy beam, concentrating much harder now that the time of loot distribution was almost upon us. The spinning motion did me no favours however and the beam went nowhere near the mage at all. Perhaps I sould have just started my victory dance after all.

Ray of Frost at mage

The magic whore that had plagued him so near death, Motsognir continued scaling the mast. Reaching the first platform he stood with a wide stance, his hands on his hips, staring down at the woman's inevitable death. He laughed a mighty laugh.

The dwarf simply hefted his weapon as she landed, quickly driving the butt of the axe into her shoulder to keep her in place and then aiming a glowing axe blade directly at her chest (Righteous Smite. Hit. 16 Dmg. Mots can healing surge). As the blade sunk deep into the woman's chest, he left it there long enough to turn to his friend dwarf and flash him the secret dwarven sign of success...

http://ohinvertedworldclub.files.wor...-thumbs-up.jpg

...before he pulled it from her body with a line of blood and ichor close in tow. It was as his granddad had always said: A day you murder some random run-away witch on a boat is a good day. His granddad's sayings were over-specific, but often true.

The pirate witch clutches at at the ragged wound on her chest, and her eyes roll up into her head. Her wand of missiles falls from her limp hand, rolling sternward over the deck. She tries to stagger away, but stumbles over the corpse of one of her loyal scallywags and falls on her face.

"Well, boys" she mutters, hacking up great gouts of blood. "That's why we usually ask for the money in advance. I hope you've all learned a valuable—"

The mage's ragged breathing slows to a halt.

Victory! 750 XP (150 XP each)

Perforated, half-crewed and captainless, the pirate vessel drifts aimlessly off toward the horizon. Meanwhile, the surviving crew of the Rosy Dawn sheathe their swords and prepare to return to the ordinary tedium of getting the boat to her destination. But it's not to be.

During the protracted battle, the sun has fallen completely out of sight. A fierce storm rolls in from the deep sea, and soon the crew is busily securing everything left scattered on the rain-slick deck. But even as dusk turns into night and the storm reduces visibility to almost nothing, there's no sign of the Fang Light.

"Captain!" shrieks the new lookout, forcibly promoted only a few minutes back and not overly thrilled with his new role. "We're in the reefs!"

A terrible collision shakes the hull as the Rosy Dawn scrapes over the jagged rocks just below the water's surface.

"We'll make for the Fang!" bellows Captain Catos. "If you sellswords value your hides I recommend the lot of you find something heavy to hang on to — unless you fancy a swim!"

As if to punctuate his orders, a mighty gust of wind smashes into the sails, tipping the whole ship toward port. The lookout clings desperately to his unfortunate post as dozens of small articles and a corpse or two tumble off the deck into the angry sea.

"I'll get this boat out of the rocks if it kills me" mutters Catos, pipe clenched in his teeth. "I promise no more than that."

SKILL CHALLENGE: Avoid injury as the boat navigates through the reef, and try to aid in the navigation if possible. 4 successes before 3 failures, DC 13. Each PC must make an Acrobatics/Athletics check (your choice) to endure the storm safely. In addition, they may make an additional skill check if they think they may be able to help Catos in some way. The athletics/acrobatics checks do not count toward the 4 successes needed to win the challenge.

The ship tilts against the horizon, waves butchering the side of the ship like great hands trying to pull it down by its sides. Seeing the danger involved and not caring for personal safety, Delic grabs a "vine" and ties it to his waist. Taking several more and wrapping them around his shoulder, he continues his climb up the sea-tree - this time not to get to the mage, but to get to the crow's nest.

Athletics Check

Motsognir swung back down to the deck, shouting orders to the obviously incompetent crewmen. He'd studied maps of this area in the past, and he knew the mistakes made by the dead. He clung to a rope, arrogantly shouting instructions to the wheelman at the top of his lungs.

Acrobatics & History checks

As the mage collapsed to the deck, her staff rolled towards me and I picked it up and stuffed it in to my belt, just in time as it turned out as our boat was running perilously close to the reefs.

Ducking into the lee of the stairs up to the helm, I braced myself against a barrel full of limes. Peeking up over the top of the barrel, I noticed that the water was crashing against the nearest reef in a particular way, so as to suggest the lay of the rocks beneath the suface and called out to the Captain, hopingto encourage him to steer away from the obvious danger.

Acrobatics check and Insight check

Gabe was hearing voices again. How strange, they come up at the most inopportune times.

Almost as if he had no control over his actions, Gabe decided it would be cool to try to do backflips on the boat in the middle of the storm. Perhaps by looking like a total skaterpunk badass the storm would be unable to do anything to him.

Acrobatics check

During the display of complete awesome, he thought to help the captain out by shouting at the storm.

"HEY STORM. FUCK YOU"

Diplomacy check

Delic's Athletics check: Success
Soggy's Acrobatics check: Success
Soggy's History check: Success
Bob's Acrobatics check: Fail
Bob's Insight check: INSIGHT DOES NOT WORK THAT WAY
Bob's Insight Perception check: Success
Garrmondo's Athletics check: Fail
Gabriel's Acrobatics check: Fail
Gabriel's Diplomacy check: Fail
Bob, Gabriel, and Garrmondo each lose a healing surge due to injuries sustained

The members of the Horde all scramble to safety, some making for the high ground and some (as is their habit) seeking the safe company of fruit.

Delic successfully reaches the crow's nest, sharing the tiny basket with the lookout. It's very cramped. The last time Delic was pressed this closely to another man was during his brief stint in joining the provincial army. Suffice it to say, a certain burly sergeant— well, bygones were bygones.

Motsognir's spent too much time at sea to be bothered by a little squall like this. He hurries toward the bow to assist Catos, nimbly ducking the occasional snapped rope and hopping a barrel or two. While the reefs have changed a bit since Soggy last studied them, his expertise does get the Rosy Dawn significantly closer to relative safety.

Bob snatches the pirate witch's magic wand as it rolls about on the deck, and takes cover beneath some delicious tropical fruit. He may not survive this, but in principle he still had to take care of himself. Scurvy prevention is everyone's responsibility. Bob creeps over to look down into the water, and his sharp elf eyes immediately pick out the currents as they rip through the coral below. This reef was entirely too orderly to be natural; it warranted investigating. Later, though. Much later. Still, he shouts his discoveries to the captain. Suddenly, a loose ale tankard bounces out of the open door of the captain's chamber and smacks Bob in the skull. Back to the safety of the limes, oh yes.

Garrmondo has a brilliant idea; he'll tie himself to the mast. This way there's no chance of him falling off the boat. There's also no chance of dodging the dozens of objects small and large that the wind pelts at his restrained form. It was not such a brilliant idea after all, really.

Not for the first time, Gabe felt a little betrayed. What was the use in following a storm god if it doesn't get you any say over where the problematic storms show up? Still, it wouldn't do to show fear in this situation. Kord would be disappointed to see his battleragers cowering from a little wind and rain. The paladin stands defiant in the middle of the deck, catching up on the day's calisthenics. Some deep knee bends, a few jumping jacks, and — oof. A barrel of gunpowder tears free from its binding and smashes into Gabe's torso in midair. The dwarf flies backwards, smashing into the mast (and smashing into Garrmondo in the bargain).

Dazed and winded, his attempt to talk tough to the storm is kind of lost in the din.

Need more skill checks! 2 more successes or 2 more failures to end the challenge (for good or for ill). Don't use a skill that you've already tried! Include an Athletics/Acrobatics check for each attempt, as before.

Taking slightly better cover behind the fruit barrel, I marvelled at how quickly the storm had swept upon us and how, being so at one with nature as I was, I had failed to notice it coming. Still, my knowledge of such things would surely help the captain guide us through so I stood up and waved to him, hoping my gesticulation would accurately convey my reading of the prevailing wind.

Acrobatics check and nature check

Being a follower of Kord, he did know a thing or two about storms. Over the years he'd picked up a few tricks about how the seas worked from various old texts.

Athletics then insight

Spitting saltwater and brine from the waves, Delic grips the rim of the crow's nest and pulls his strained body into the emplacement. He hands an extra rope to the lookout - "Tie this to your waist! If we fall, we'll still be attached to the Sea-Tree! She shall not let us die!"

Athletics Check

Bob's Nature check: Success
Bob's Acrobatics check: Success
Gabe's Insight Nature check: Success
Gabe's Athletics check: Failure
Gabe loses another surge

Challenge won! 250 XP (50 XP each)



Bob realized that the storm, like the reef itself, had a distinctly unnatural quality about it. It was too soon to throw any accusations around, but it almost seemed as though someone were deliberately trying to keep ships from approaching the lighthouse. Bob shouts his observations to the captain, and the gruff old man nods curtly and tacks harder into the wind — making for the thin, muddy strip that was the closest thing to a beach you could find on the Fang. Somebody had to investigate this, and the Rosy Dawn could hardly continue on to Veltalar without a chance to make repairs.

Taking on a total disregard for his own safety, Gabe clambers down the side of the hull and examines the reef at nearly arm's length. From this risky distance it was easy enough to see the jagged rocks before the ship could plow into them, and he bellows out their locations over the screaming wind.

"Brace for impact, boys!" shouts the captain. "Secure all loose articles, fasten your safety harness and please deactivate any and all magical devices for the safety of your fellow crewmen!"

The Rosy Dawn careens onto the beach with an ear-splitting cacophony that all but drowns out the wind and thunder, and most everyone on the boat without the sense to be clinging to something heavy promptly falls on their face. Everyone takes a few minutes to get their bearings before the crew begins re-securing the trade goods and breaking out the lanterns to start repairs. Save for Soggy the Horde is largely useless at putting things back together, and Catos approaches the wet, bedraggled mercenaries with a request.

"It seems to me", he grouses, gesturing up at the already-dissipating storm, "that something grim has likely happened to the lighthouse keeper. Only Umberlee can say what's happened up there, but whoever's in charge of the Fang obviously doesn't have the public good in mind anymore. All of this stinks of magery, and I expect the lot of you are more equipped to deal with it than my crew; each one of you's carrying around so much magical frippery you practically jingle when ye walk. Now, I can't force you to go up there, and the contract guarantees you pay as long as we get to Veltalar in one piece. But I suspect we'll just end up wrecked on some other rock if we try to leave without seeing to things, and maybe that rock'll do more than bend a few timbers. I can't offer you much incentive other 'n that unless you want to see an old man grovel — actually, wait."

The captain takes his pipe from between his teeth for the first time since the pirates boarded his ship, and issues a sharp whistle. In a moment, the cabin boy is hurrying up to join him. After a brief conference the young lad hurries away again only to return with a pair of fine leather boots.

"Haven't worn these in a long damn time", Catos mutters. "Still, take care of 'em, if you can? They were... a gift."

http://www.ddwiki.saxypunch.com/imag...cingmaster.png

The old man deposits the boots atop a barrel near the party, and quickly turns on his heel and tromps away to supervise the repairs. He seems to be wiping his eyes, but it's probably just seawater.

Bob has a free moment at last to examine his hard-won new wand.

http://www.ddwiki.saxypunch.com/imag...gicmissile.png

A narrow, winding trail leads steeply up toward the lighthouse. The Fang Light itself is still dark, but a tiny village nestled amongst the high cliffs shows some signs of life as faint torchlight moves to and fro. The trail looks to pass right through, so maybe the villagers have some insight as to what's gone wrong at the Fang.

Motsognir started up the trail towards the village. He had thought about trying on the sea captain's boots, but decided against it after a closer look. He was finally in an environment where he could demonstrate his masculine prowess to his woman, and frankly, those boots looked a little gay. He'd let the others fight over them.

Heal to full
start towards village

I took a moment to look at the enemy wizard's wand. Unscrewing the end, I popped out the instructions that as was standard with wands, were written on a small, rolled up bit of paper. Sadly, it seemed this wand was designed for users of the Magic Missile spell, one I had never really got the hang of and whilst it promised to allow the user to zap out the spell once per fight (How it would know when the fight had ended and a new one started I was unsure) with the added hilarity of pushing people around, it would probably not be as much use for swatting arrows out of the air as my staff. I tucked it into my pack, resolving to save it for any comedy opportunites when fighting near a ledge. That or flog it at the next staff shop we came across.

The captain seemed upset about the storm and was waving his arms around and ranting away in the peculiar language so beloved of the people in this part of the world. I surmised that he wanted someone to go and check out the lighthouse from the way he kept pointing at it and given how much help his crew had been in the fight with the pirates (Why had they even bothered drawing their swords if they weren't going to use them? I would have thought carrying an unsheathed blade on the deck of a ship at sea contravened all kinds of health and safety regulations), it seemed that it was once again time for the Horde to get to work.

I took five minutes to catch my breath then wandered about the deck looking for somewhere to display our traditional victory tag. Most of the deck was sopping wet from the storm but I found a nice dry patch on the door of the captain's cabin, so left our mark there, virtually doubling the resale value of the ship in a few quick chalk marks.

I then clambered down to the beach and joined the others. The captain seemed to have offered us a pair of boots as some incentive but they looked fairly dirty and not nearly as fun as the ones I was wearing so I left them for one of the others.

My dwarf had already began stumping off up the trail towards the village by the lighthouse so I skipped lightly up to catch up with him. I put my arm round his shoulders, having to stoop only slightly to reach and gave him a quick, reassuring squeeze. Whilst the boat trip had been fun enough, I was really looking forward to getting stuck into another murderous dungeon, with all the inevitable bloodshed and pillage that came with such adventures. I still had two of the original Horde with me (My favourite two I might add) and whilst the newcomers lacked the obedience my necrotic buddies had, they seemed handy enough in a fight and bulky enough to make decent meat-shields.

A smile crossed my lips, today was going to be a good day.

Heal up, follow Soggy

The dwarf coughed and sputtered as he pulled himself back up aboard. He hadn't heard the captain's rant about the magic boots, because his ears were full of sea water, wet beard, a small crustacean and a fish. His boots were full of water, however, and he took the captain's offering to be nothing more than a replacement for soaking wet footwear. So, much obliged, he picked up the new boots, put them on his horrid looking dwarf feet, hefted his axe and headed on down the path after his "friends."

Heal up, take boots, follow soggy and the lady.