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Package Handling (GFF D&D Adventure IX)
What Has Gone Before
The Freeport docks are as grimy and unpleasant as ever, and their sheer vastness means it takes the better part of the afternoon to find the Swiftcurrent. It's only thanks to old Captain Catos and his lingering gratitude to Garrmondo that they reach their destination before nightfall. The dwarf has picked up a scar or two in the intervening months, but he's still in better shape than most sailors his age. The Swiftcurrent is a relatively small single-masted sloop, practically dwarfed aside the massive galleons and carracks with which it shared the docks. A crew of about a dozen watersoul and stormsoul genasi lounge idly on the deck, their day's work long since completed. Two watersoul genasi wait patiently aside the boarding ramp; a woman in the loose, unbinding garb of a sailor and a man in crisply starched uniform. The ranking insignia on his chest mark him clearly as a Lieutenant in the Sea Lord's Guard, an extraordinarily high rank for a non-human to reach. As G-Unit approaches the lieutenant delivers a terse summary of the work he's offering, his brusque manner indicating that he's been delivering this same summary all day long. "Greetings. I am Lieutenant Fir-it-ayr. This is Dal-ri-lar, captain of the Swiftcurrent. We have a parcel on board that we suspect will require somewhat more significant protection than the ship's crew alone can provide it. This package must reach our embassy in Veltalar at all costs. I offer significant coin in return for your service, as well as the personal thanks of the Guard. The Swiftcurrent debarks at first light tomorrow morning. Any questions? You're the first group that hasn't turned tail the moment you spotted my stripes." Jam it back in, in the dark. |
Insight check. How ya doing, buddy? |
This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it. ![]() |
"I use this ship because it's what I have", Fir-it-ayr responds. "The entirety of Freeport's fleet has been sent out to the middle of the sea for training exercises. I have access to no ships, and precisely three guards with any marine training whatsoever. The Sea Lord's will is not mine to question. The Swiftcurrent does not fly under our flag, nor is Captain Dal-ri-lar a member of the Guard. She is, however, willing to help — a vanishingly rare attitude these days. Our ships likely won't return for at least two weeks, and this package must leave by tomorrow. The crew will find for itself if they absolutely must, and if Captain Dal-ri-lar hadn't agreed to help I suppose I'd be on my way to Veltalar on a rowboat right now."
Though he finds the situation unusual, Cal can find no sign that Far-it-ayr is deceiving him (though the lieutenant clearly finds the situation intolerable himself). A quick glance around confirms the total absence of any ships flying the black hourglass; Freeport's navy was, indeed, elsewhere. Though Puyet hadn't been in Freeport long enough to learn much about particular individuals in its military, he had put together a fairly good understanding of its general workings. The Sea Lord's Guard was a fairly small outfit, scarcely numbering 150 swords at full strength — and Puyet had picked up enough rumors of the recent catastrophe to know that it wasn't at anywhere near full strength at the moment. The Guard was infamous for its openly racist hiring practices; for a nonhuman to join the Guard at all was an historic event, but to rise to lieutenant? Far-it-ayr was clearly either extraordinarily competent or extraordinarily corrupt. I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body? |
While the lieutenant did not seem a legitimate fellow, the task at hand did seem so.
Resisting his old habits of recognizing the lieutenant's rank, so as to derail any notions he might have of ordering them about, Puyet casually waltzed up to the officer while scratching his oversized genitals. "Your job seems to be something we can do. We will do everything you need for 600 per man, including room and board, of course. Once we are there, should we decide to return to Freeport, we will purchase our voyage back." Puyet went on to explain the amount of expertise the group offered and how they were likely his best option at this point. I was speaking idiomatically. ![]() |
Not being a seafaring sort (I can get very very seasick), I am motivated by the coin. But what sort of dangers are anticipated?
Curious, but... we do have to make do with what we have. I won't ask what's in the package, but you say you expect trouble. If we accept this job, I'd like to know what you think might await. Do you expect any pirate attacks, or perhaps some motivated foreign power who might want to take it? I say this while shapeshifting into the form of a pointy-eared elf , in a blatant attempt to gauge his racial tolerance, especially for distrusted races like changelings. What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now? |
"Six hundred a head? More than I hoped to pay, but then I'm in no position to haggle. Very well, six hundred it is. Payroll has been running a surplus lately anyway, so it shouldn't be difficult to arrange. I'll have it for you in the morning."
The lieutenant arches an eyebrow as Cal takes elven form, but makes no other reaction or comment on it. "Pirates are a risk for any ship passing through Freeport waters, but that's not really what concerns me. The Swiftcurrent is a small craft, and fast; neither an attractive target for pirates nor an easy one. However, our couriers ran into a great deal of interference just getting the package this far. Our runners were harried en route from the Palace several times, and with much greater persistence and ferocity than you expect from local thugs. We have to assume foreign interference, though of course the sellswords weren't kind enough to name their employers before they were cut down. If that's all, I suggest you spend the rest of the afternoon readying whatever supplies you may think useful, and get a good night's sleep. Again, you depart at dawn tomorrow. Dismi—" Fir-it-ayr cuts himself off mid-word. "Good evening." The lieutenant strides off, his hands clasped behind his back. The captain merely gives the group a curt nod before retreating back aboard her ship and hauling the ramp up behind her. FELIPE NO |
So the package is a sought after commodity, is it? Perhaps it won't hurt to have a few decoys to act as bait. I jog after the departing genasi to whisper in his ear.
"Sir, could you provide a few packages by tomorrow, similar to the one being delivered? A few decoys may aid our chances of successful delivery." ___ What might I need for a voyage across the sea? Fretting over my sea nausea, I head off to the marketplace to find some... countermeasures. I doubt I'll need any ammunition as yet, though the Eladrin might want some. Poor guy was gathering up used bolts after the last battle, why... it reminds me of my penniless days! 33 flasks - 0.03 x 33 = 1 GP (wagon) Travel Papers - 0.20 GP 4 Waterskins - 1 x 4 = 4 GP (wagon) 19 pitchers of ale - 0.20 x 19 = 3.80 GP (flasks; wagon) Hempen Rope, 50 feet = 1 GP (wagon) TOTAL SPEND: 10 GP This being the night before a potentially perilous peregrination, I make sure to eat, drink, and be merry, which for me is a good book and some alchemy. Maybe some debauchery next time, since the cleric's gone. Drink 4 flasks of ale. Eat 2x trail rations. Read Complete Idiot's Guide to Fireplaces. Distribute the contents of single poisonous black pudding flask among five flasks of ale, making sure to nick the neck as a sign of danger. Discard used flask. Gonna poison me some enemies! What, you don't want my bikini-clad body? |
I'd kept quiet and watched as the exchange was going on... no matter what I'm currently feeling, I like to keep interactions with my fellow genasi as short as possible. I should have known from the name of the damn ship, though. Still, I'll watch and act rather than talking. At least these men are seafarers. Also, to be honest, I'm glad the ship is run by watersouls... I won't be being constantly asked if I'm able to manifest it, and I do quite feel like continuing to manifest fire for the time being.
I returned to the inn to rest up for the coming job, hoping that the rest of the group knew what it was getting in to. I don't like the fact that the lieutenant wouldn't tell us the contents of the package, and will have to remember to check it out once I see it. Jam it back in, in the dark. It was lunchtime at Wagstaff.
Touching butts had been banned by the evil Headmaster Frond. Suddenly, Tina Belcher appeared in the doorway. She knew what she had to do. She touched Jimmy Jr's butt and changed the world. |
Glenn wasn't sure how to feel about the changeling's implication of his poverty. He had gathered the bolts from the corpses mostly out of habit. Rose hated wasting anything that could be used again - especially since neither of them could really walk into a shop and just buy things without being noticed. Glenn was the son of a wealthy merchant, and Rose had to avoid showing her face whenever possible to prevent intolerant citizens from finding her family living in the slums.
Glenn wondered who had sold out Rose's family. There were a few other families who knew of their existence in the city, but Glenn trusted those people to keep that secret. Perhaps a black market dealer, looking for a quick coin from the city guard. Either way, it didn't matter now. She was alone now, her parents burned along with their second attempt at a home. Rose would find no solace with her own people, and was likely now wandering the world, just as Glenn did now. These thoughts filling his head, Glenn wanders slowly back to the inn. There's nowhere I can't reach. ![]() |
Puyet drank ale with the locals for the last time, and shared war stories. Some guys kept talking about some placed called "Nam", but Puyet didn't know where that was. Another spoke of battling a deceptive race of Hajjis, something else Puyet was unfamiliar with. He chalked it up the the drinks.
He retired to bed and dreamed of what the future might hold. Spoiler:
This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it. ![]() |
The Complete Idiot's Guide To Fireplaces was an amazingly vacuous work, managing somehow to insult even Cal's intellect. After a full 30 pages explaining (in small words) exactly what fire was, the book spends the rest of its 150 pages trying to describe a fireplace and its purpose. For the actual lighting and maintenance of fireplaces, the gentle reader is directed to Volume 2.
Awaking early the next morn, G-Unit promptly wends their way down to the docks in the chill pre-dawn hours. Fir-it-ayr is already waiting when they arrive. They conduct their business in stony silence, the lieutenant ushering them aboard the ship before pressing small paper envelopes into their hands one by one. Each contains six platinum pieces, it being far too dangerous in Freeport to carry thousands of jangling coins on one's person while traveling alone. Fir-it-ayr also carries beneath his arm three copper scroll tubes, which he passes to Cal. "Just old blueprints and pie recipes inside", he mutters. "No time to make proper forgeries." By the time payment in concluded, the captain and her crew are already up and at work — the Swiftcurrent is several hundred yards out to sea. With a quick salute the lieutenant vaults over the starboard side, slicing into the water as smoothly as a dolphin. As the vessel continues to pull away, Fir-it-ayr is soon invisible beneath the waves. Though such a small detail had not caught his notice before, Puyet finds himself intrigued by the brightly-dyed sails of the Swiftcurrent. They were red. For reasons he could not quite explain to himself, this comforted him; he felt certain, now, that the ship would go faster. ————————————————†”——— The first day is more or less uneventful, as Pirate Isle recedes into the distance behind them. It's not long before Dal-ri-lar shoos the mercenaries below deck, their gawking and loitering getting in the way of real sailor's work. Some of them decide to make themselves useful during the 5 day's journey to Veltalar; after all, there was no guarantee of an attack, and some in G-Unit lacked the patience to sit on their hands for so long. Code:
How do you make yourself useful (or useless) aboard the Swiftcurrent? There's plenty of work to be done even aboard a small craft; describe how you spend your time aboard ship and roll a skill check relevant to the task. It doesn't have to be something practical; maybe you just want to go fishing, or maybe you want to snoop around. I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body? |
Although the speedy vessel mitigates my seasickness, the occasional choppy wave threatens to overwhelm my self-control. I attempt to make myself less useless by attempting to endure it. Oh well, at least I have seasickness flasks. Alas, after filling three jars with changeling regurgitation, I decide to above-board and spew the contents of my stomach into the ocean. I hope the Sea King won't mind. ___ After spending quite some time above deck, and recalling the previous stormy experience recounted by Garr (seems like "Delic" was present, but strangely I don't recall any of it now), I marshall my nature skills and attempt to discern what the weather will be like for the remainder of our voyage. How ya doing, buddy? |
Puyet meanders about the ship, studying the layout and the best visual vantage points as well as available weaponry and supplies. Afterward, he approaches the captain, awkward as it might be, and asks for details that he might have missed in his preparedness. After technical details, he attempts small talk. Not too much, however, but enough to mention the sails that somehow avoided his perception earlier. Not sure if I need a roll for these actions, but just in case. What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now? ![]() |
FELIPE NO ![]() |
What, you don't want my bikini-clad body? It was lunchtime at Wagstaff.
Touching butts had been banned by the evil Headmaster Frond. Suddenly, Tina Belcher appeared in the doorway. She knew what she had to do. She touched Jimmy Jr's butt and changed the world. |
Garrmondo adapts swiftly to the demands of bosun's work, his great strength a boon to the vessel's day-to-day maintenance. While he lacks the skills of a professional seaman, he quickly develops a rapport with the crew, which begins to view him as a comrade rather than a burdensome passenger.
+2 to social checks involving the crew Expecting trouble at any moment, Puyet investigates whether the crew or any supplies aboard ship might be useful in a fight. While the Swiftcurrent's small armory contains enough blades for everyone aboard, the ship lacks any cannon; this seemed consistent with the lieutenant's assurance that the vessel was fast enough outsail attacking boats, but if not from enemy craft where the did the fear of attack come from? With the captain's permission, Puyet takes a handful of sailors aside for a few hours of proper combat training. While making small talk with the captain, Puyet notices a Kolter Privateer tucked into her belt. Pistols were clumsy, unwieldy weapons and no real use in a stand-up fight, but at least Dal-ri-lar was preparing for trouble. +2 to initiative. 3 minions available to command in a fight. Glenn searches the ship for suitable hiding places, as many of his skills were all the more useful in an ambush. While belowdecks was full of blind corners and easily-missed nooks, an attempt to repel boarders was already lost once the attackers commanded the maindeck. There were stairs leading down from the forecastle to the maindeck, however, and not much light got beneath them. Glenn's lanky frame could easily hide beneath these stairs if he wanted to catch someone by surprise. Thus prepared, Glenn attempts to make himself useful, but after a few clumsy spills and fumbles the first mate gently relieves him of responsibility. Automatic CA on first attack of battles aboard ship. Utterly uninterested in socializing with the genasi crew, Gra-fa-zut sequesters himself belowdecks and sets to work purging vermin from the cargo hold. Unfortunately the few wharf rats aboard the Swiftcurrent are too wily for him to pin down. Overwhelmed by nausea, Cal does little to make himself useful or endear himself to the crew. He spends the first two days aboard ship desperately trying to keep a meal down, he awakens early on the third morning curious about the weather. The sea has taken on an eerie calm, and as Cal gazes down into the still waters, he sees strange silhouettes moving toward the ship... silhouettes with legs and arms. With a shout, Cal runs to the ship's bell, hurriedly waking G-Unit and the rest of the crew to repel the attackers. Dozens of horrid creatures swarm the boat, looking like nothing so much as a slimy crossbreed between man and fish. Most of them remain in the water, bashing away at the ship's hull with spears and tridents — but 9 of them climb aboard the maindeck, making their way to the forecastle where Cal stands ringing the ship's bell. One carries an odd spear with pincers on the end, one wields a crossbow, and one brandishes a vicious-looking spear. The other six boarders each carry a brace of javelins on their backs, and appear to be following orders from the staff-carrier. While he waits for help, Cal must fight alone. Cal gets a surprise round to attack the fishmen before initiative proper begins. ![]() ![]() ![]() ![]() Jam it back in, in the dark. |
Twin Strike on L6 Fishman. 3 damage, fft fft. As the second arrow bounces harmlessly off the creature's scaly hide, I marshall up whatever second-hand information I have about fishmen. Traveler knows I haven't met one in person before. Knowledge check There's nowhere I can't reach. |
23 gets you everything but their resistances/vulnerabilities, and they don't have any. So: Though he can't help but feel a little envious of the kuo-toa and their willingness to freely abduct and dissect whoever they want to, Cal also recognizes that he's a fairly prime candidate for abduction. With a shudder, he sends an arrow flying toward the nearest specimen; it punches through the creature's skull easily and it slumps to the deck with a moist splat. Maybe they were cartilaginous. The kuo-toa monitor coldly levels his crossbow at Cal. The bow in this creature's hand clearly marked him as artillery support; better to kill him now before he can hide behind his fellows. The bolt rips through the left side of Cal's face, tearing off his ear. He reforms it only moments later, but it still stings like a bitch. Good shot. The monitor quickly moves to put a warder between himself and the enemy; they're expendable. Crossbow: +16 vs AC. 19 damage to Cal. ![]() Yeah Zerg's turn again. A 20 is a 20, what can I do This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it. |
![]() That smug little archer thought he'd shoot me. Too bad, I got him in the face first with my special kruthik tooth arrow. It was enough to disrupt his amateurish aim. Activate Disruptive Strike. 6 damage to Monitor (Crossbow) and 5 penalty to triggering attack. Activate Poisoned Weapon. Monitor is weakened and takes 5 ongoing poison damage (save ends both). Cursing myself for not scouting out the terrain beforehand, I quickly glance around the battlefield. Where would our reinforcements arrive from? Can I take cover somewhere? Is there a choke point on this ship? The patter of heavy footsteps tell me salvation is at hand, but can I at least thin the herd of minions to minimize personal damage? Twin Strike: M2 and N5. Minions killed. Not wanting to risk getting holes poked into my hide via range, I duck out of sight, and crawl away to where the warders can't get to me so quickly. Drop prone. Crawl to G5. I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body? |
And that's why we don't inflict "save ends" conditions during the target's own turn Panicking a little, Cal dispatches two more of the flimsy warders before diving for cover behind the low railing of the fo'c'sle. Incredibly poor cover was better than no cover at all. Low railing between deck levels provides normal cover to prone combatants, stacks with prone bonus vs. ranged The surviving warders charge forward, flinging their javelins at Cal with the force of their momentum. Despite his low profile, 2 javelins find their mark. Though the pain was incredible, Cal's immediate thoughts revolved around the way having javelins stuck in him kind of ruined the whole "hiding" thing. Might as well plant a flag in him. Still, help must be arriving any second now... Javelin: +17 vs AC; 2 hits = 18 total damage to Cal (minions don't roll for damage) ![]() I was speaking idiomatically.
Last edited by The unmovable stubborn; Sep 10, 2010 at 03:09 AM.
Reason: diving for corners! No whammies no whammies
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....Fffffffffffffffffish. Puyet did NOT like sushi. Start at T3 Phalanx Assault on Whip. 21 dmg! +2 AC and Reflex to all my adjacent allies till end of my next turn. Action Point Ready Everybody Move for whenever best time is. We want that helm to be clear. Also ready shift to U3 if he remains to the starboard side. What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now? ![]() |
Staggering backward, the whip smashes his staff downward into the deck. A brilliant bolt of lightning strikes down out of the clear sky, and Puyet experiences a peculiar tingling sensation. The sheer brightness of the electric bolt temporarily blinds him. Lightning Strike: +15 vs Reflex, 12 damage to Puyet (blinded 1 round) The marauder casts about for a target, but the two enemies on deck were too far away to reach before their reinforcements would arrive. Grumbling, he lurks by the sternward stairs and waits for the enemy to appear from belowdecks. Move to Q4, ready Slavering Spear vs. anyone spawning adjacent. Not likely to accomplish much, but. ![]() FELIPE NO |
Dal-ri-lar looks out the window.
"Shit" Discretion is the better part of valor. Delay turn until after Zeph's sailors and before Garr What, you don't want my bikini-clad body? |
appear at R6, move to T6 Sly Lunge on Kuo-Toa Whip 18+13+2 > 25 hit! 19 damage, fishman is granting Glenn CA until end of Glenn's next turn While we're here, burn AP, use Deft Strike (not moving) 10+13+2 = 25, barely hit 6+6+7+2 = 21 damage Heck with it, let's do this thing right - use Flaying Gloves for 5 ongoing damage Total of 40 damage plus 5 ongoing to fishman, plus granting Glenn combat advantage until end of Glenn's next turn. ![]() Jam it back in, in the dark. ![]() |
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