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Flattening Charge to Marauder at Q4 16 Dmg. Yay! This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it. ![]() |
move to U6 (i think that one's clear) Deft Strike vs. fish. need 12. miss I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body? ![]() |
Booming Blade on Marauder 5 + 11 = 16 < 23 Miss I grunted in frustration, feeling my fire erupting down the length of my blade and encircling my body. Free action: Blades of Fiery Wrath on Marauder 3 + 9 = 12 < 23 MISS FUCKING DAMMIT I was speaking idiomatically. 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. |
The battle's as good as won. Hemmed in and outnumbered, the Marauder backs fearfully toward the edge of the deck — and then leaps into the sea. Bereft of any leadership, the weak and cowardly warders attacking the hull swiftly rout along with him.
Victory! 2700 XP (675 each) The day is won, but it's too soon to relax. The crew has taken heavy losses. Their captain lies dead, and one of G-Unit's own also met his end. Morale is low, to say the least. But there's no time to wallow in sorrows; the Swiftcurrent is badly damaged, practically unseaworthy. The ship sits dead in the sea, slowly taking on water. There's too much damage for the mercenaries to tackle on their own; they'll have to rouse the crew from their mourning malaise while doing what repairs they can. Skill Challenge, fuck yeah! Goals: Repair the ship, improve crew morale Three skill checks each, DC 23 7 total successes for victory, 5 for partial victory, 4 or less for failure Physical/Social challenge. Use physical skills for checks relating to repairs, social skills for checks relating to morale. You may use ONE mental skill check to aid in either goal, but rationalize why it applies! A skill challenge is an encounter just as a battle is. Don't hesitate to use any powers that you think might be useful in this situation. The challenge takes place IMMEDIATELY after combat ends, so you've received no short rest. The physical skills are: Acrobatics, Athletics, Endurance, Heal, Stealth, Thievery The social skills are: Bluff, Diplomacy, Insight, Intimidate, Streetwise The mental skills are: Arcana, Dungeoneering, History, Nature, Perception, Religion What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now? |
Glenn proceeds to lead by example, climbing the mast to replace broken ropes, check the sail for damage, and see whether he could spot any other friendly ships from the crow's nest. He then proceeds downstairs, working to patch the leaks in the hull, moving as quickly as he could with a sense of purpose and urgency. Streetwise check - recall stories of sailors who've made it out of similar situations alive Acrobatics check - Climb the mast, repair etc. Athletics check - work quickly to repair the boat. Use Fast Hands to this end as well. Figures. Glenn can't seem to roll decent numbers to save his life outside of battle. FELIPE NO ![]() |
+2 to Athletics Checks to climb. Striding over to Dal-ri-lar's corpse, I pocket her Privateer FP. Interesting weapon, though less reliable than a trusty longbow. I load the weapon, and discharge it into the air with a loud crack. I subtly shifted the form of my vocal cords to match the dead captain's. That ought to grab the attention of her mourning crew. Listen up, you scurvy scalawags! We've got some dead friends, and we're going to be joining them if we don't get this place shipshape at once. Either help us, or I'm going to have to shoot you and throw you overboard to keep us afloat! Or give you over to that orc. That works too. Bluffin' you. Natural 20. Result: 34. Some of the sailors are still catatonic, saddened with grief perhaps. I empathize (Oh, Denny!), I truly do. I whip back my hand, and start pistol-whipping them to snap them out of their malaise. Sometimes, you have to exercise a bit of tough love. Heal check. Well, tough love's still love innit? Still, 16 = fail probably. Recruiting a couple of deck hands, I hand them each a tome that I've read (Bombastus' biography, the drow book, and with me bearing that asinine book about fireplaces). Dragging them below deck, I instruct them to tear the books apart, using the loose pages to stem the flow of water from the ocean. I jam my freezing arrow at the largest gap, immediately plugging up the hole with ice. It'll hold, but not forever. Still, water is still gradually filtering into the ship, and it takes all my dexterity and acrobatics skill to seal the leaky points of ingress with easily soaked paper. Accursed fishmen had to bash the hull in many places at once. Acrobatics check. Huh, natural 20. Result: 34. What, you don't want my bikini-clad body? |
Puyet knew what to do, though. At least, he knew WHO knew what to do, and he was about to insure they did exactly that. Ahem... "You fucking maggots. You better unfuck yourselves before I FUCK you! If you don't get your pretty mama dicks moving with a purpose, I will skullfuck you all and add some extra liquid to those watery Genasi brains of yours! I want this ship fixed and moving, otherwise we're all dead like that bitch MILF Captain of yours." Intimidate those motherfuckers. Use Battlefront shift ability in addition. After releasing his aggression on the crew, Puyet cornered the first mate with a different purpose. He didn't underestimate his abilities, but he gave the first mate some pointers on commanding the crew in a tight situation and informed him on the situation above deck. Insight check to advise the first mate. After this, Puyet meandered back aboard the top of the deck. Glenn was misreably attempting to fix the mast. He could see why the first mate shooed him away the day before. There was a sudden burst of pressure from inside of Puyet. He realized he had not had time after being woken this morning to relieve himself. He walked to the edge of the deck and began to pee, favoring the wind which was blowing in Glenn's direction. Take that you dirty elf. Puyet played it off as accident. Obviously he'd never been sailing before. Athletics check to help repair mast. Use rope and shit. There must be plenty of it on deck. Jam it back in, in the dark. ![]() |
Diplomacy check assisted by religion check. Getting their attention through racial heritage. When I came out of my trance, I got to work helping with fixing the boat. I grabbed some ropes in an attempt to keep things steady while the crewmen went about lashing the sails. Endurance check. Fucking slippery deck. There's nowhere I can't reach. 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. |
Despite his best intentions, Glenn's nervousness and fatigue work against him as he tries to aid in the repairs. After attempting to hail a passing barge, he nearly falls from the mast. The barge's crew either overlooks Glenn's distress signals entirely, or just willfully ignores him. Attempts to recall old sailing tales that might apply are fruitless as well; Glenn can't recall a single story involving a kuo-toa attack that ended well. At wit's end, he just applies himself furiously to the tedious work of patching the hull. His quick hands (and natural teleportation) come in very handy indeed.
Cal manages to shake the sailors out of their stupor, mostly via the raw attention-grabbing power of waving a gun around. As the Privateer is thoroughly coated in sea slime, it's a small miracle he avoided a misfire that could have blown his hand clean off. He attempts to follow up on this success administering savage beatings to the sailors refusing to work, but no amount of shapeshifting will actually grant Cal adequate muscle mass for anyone to find him threatening. Lastly, Cal's great agility comes in handy as he helps to repair the more difficult-to-reach areas on the exterior hull. Dangling by your toes from a plank isn't the most relaxing work posture, but it gets the job done. Puyet finally gets the rest of the crew in gear by terrifying them within an inch of their lives. Mourning and despair quickly fade into the background as they furiously set to work, desperate to avoid having the half-orc choke them to death. Hoping to restore the chain of command, Puyet then seeks out the first mate... only to find him also among the dead. Continuing down the ranks, he eventually finds a cabin boy to discuss strategy with. The lad seems to find the conversation enlightening, but puts few of Puyet's suggestions into practice. Personnel thus put in order, Puyet then seeks to help with the mast — but maybe it's better if he just supervises, as he lacks what you might call a delicate touch. Gra-fa-zut immediately sets out to help the crew with some impromptu grief counseling. There's no time for a drawn-out discussion of feelings, but Gra-fa-zut's steady manner and his shared heritage do much to persuade them that their shipmates have merely gone on to their just rewards. Then he promptly slips on a puddle of slime and falls on his ass. After the initial panic, steady work begins. It takes about two days for the skeleton crew and the mercenaries to restore the ship to salvageable shape. The genasi dead are all surrendered to the sea, a fitting rest for any sailor. Glenn carries Garrmondo's body to an empty cabin; by luck one of the surviving sailors dabbles in ritual magic, and the ugly process of decay is forestalled until the ship can reach a port — as is the process of swiping Garrmondo's property, as some are surely wont to do. Together, G-Unit and the remaining crew do a decent job of repairing the Swiftcurrent's most alarming problems. None of them are truly skilled in the arts of carpentry or shipwrigting, however, and even their best efforts result in a ramshackle patchwork of slapped-on planks and sloppy cover-ups. The ship will stay afloat long enough to get where it's going, but it'll do so slowly and clumsily. The entire ship lists somewhat to port, making even the simplest stroll on deck a nuisance. 5 successes: Partial Victory. 1200 XP (300 each) Thanks to the kuo-toa attack, the mission is already two days behind schedule. With the ship as damaged as it is, it'll likely take another three days to limp into Veltalar. How do the mercenaries spend this time? If you don't have any specific things you want to do here, don't sweat it, we'll move on in 48 hours regardless of player responses. This is just an optional chance to do whatever before you arrive in Veltalar. ![]() This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it. |
The hectic frenzy of the past hour slowly transitions into the muted humdrum of awkward routine. I indulge myself in what is perhaps my last chance to perform an autopsy - the kuo-toa whip's head is my souvenir now.
Also retrieve Augmenting Whetstone and fake scroll from Garr's pack. In an attempt to bolster our spirit, I take out my fiddle and sang a funeral dirge in my robotic voice for Garr and the other departed sailors. ♫ And as the fish swarmed faster and fiercer. The pain rained down our heads. And Garr, brave Garr. He shielded us. Paid for it with his life. ♪ ♫ Garr, where the fates will you guide? Plane above? Below? Set sail for those lands unknown. ♪ Get the Flash Player to play this audio file: The recent encounter is not so easily brushed aside by a song however. Just when I thought I'd gone past Denny's death, the death of our de-facto leader jars me harder than expected. For sanity's sake, I probably won't be able to do this any longer. Then it occurred to me, why not subcontract mercenary work? The words of financial sage Robertus Kiyosakus came to mind. By hiring out my services, I am an employee who earns wealth from a single source. But, investing in a guild of sell-swords would yield passive income from multiple sources. And as a bonus, it will not require personal risk on my part. True, there is a risk of losing my investment, but it is surely better than losing my life. I slept fitfully that night, knowing full well that my adventuring life may well be drawing into a close. G-unit will be fine without me - that eladrin rogue far surpasses me in striking efficiency. Yes, one way or another, Veltalar will be an ending, as well as a beginning, in the life of Cal Amah of Rhee. I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body? |
Glenn, exhausted from the fighting and profusely irritated with himself for not being able to be any use at all when not sticking things with his sword, takes to sulking around the ship. He couldn't stand feeling so useless.
The attack on the ship had also shaken him. If that last fish had turned out to actually be a fish instead of the shapeshifter, Glenn likely would have not survived the encounter. Glenn resolved to take a rest from adventuring once the Swiftcurrent arrives at her destination. He had enough money to eat for quite some time, and it would take a few days to determine whether Rose may have passed this way anyway. Glenn's close brush with death had made him remember why he was adventuring in the first place. Fidgeting with the sapphire around his wrist, Glenn sleeps deeply the first night. Having learned the hard way that he is not a sailor, Glenn spends the next few days wandering the ship, helping where he could, but not straining himself. The condition of the boat reminded Glenn of an old tune, and Glenn proceeded to hum it to himself until he was caught by one of the sailors, who told him to sing aloud so that the rest of the men could hear and sing along. After much goading from the crew, Glenn finally digressed and made a rare exception to his usual silence by leading the crew in the old song. Get the Flash Player to play this audio file: thanks Shin I was speaking idiomatically. ![]()
Last edited by Fluffykitten McGrundlepuss; Sep 28, 2010 at 03:39 PM.
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Puyet had had enough of this floating, wet coffin. He vowed to stray from seafaring vessels as best he could when they landed back on solid ground. The other were singing sad songs to the crew, but he knew none, nor wanted to. The most music he knew was marching tunes and songs his troops had favored in the past. There was no reason, nor place, to march and sharing his personal melodies with this bunch was not something he wanted to do.
He went about cleaning his gear and attending to some supervisory matters. He didn't converse much with the crew, as he wouldn't know them long enough to make it worthwhile. It would be more beneficial to leave them wary of his temper till they had parted. What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now? ![]() |
The remaining crew of the Swiftcurrent, now effectively unemployed, leap one by one from the decks into the harbor waters after giving the mercenaries their thanks. Their natural aptitude for swimming will get them to the streets much faster than the creaking ruin that was once their home away from home. True, the water genasi aren't likely to remain on dry land for long — but Aglarond always has a need for competent sailors. They'll find their place. As the Swiftcurrent slowly glides in next to the nearest pier, the mercenaries share a weary sigh of relief. It hadn't been such a long trip, all things considered, but all the same they each felt they could do with a rest. It's only as they throw down the ramp to make for the embassy that they recall the package they were bringing with them. It only takes a few minute's searching of the captain's cabin to find the scroll case, a gorgeous thing of mahogany inlaid with gold. The contents, of course, were a mystery, but the subtle workings of international diplomacy were beyond both their comprehension and their interest. Package in hand, they hurry back up to the deck. The tavern was only a few minutes away, now. Cal's the first to reach the ramp, his mind aflutter with visions of the new less-lethal life ahead of him. He doesn't notice the massive shadow passing beneath the hull, but he can't help but notice when the entire ship is shaken by some gigantic thing squeezing between the hull and the sea floor. A massive tentacle, thick as a man, rips out of the surface of the water and easily smashes the boarding ramp to timbers, and a rubbery green head lurches up and stares at the mercenaries with a predatory hatred. Somebody really wants that scroll. Special Considerations: Krakens have a 3-square threatening reach. The lighter-colored areas of the nearby sea floor are shallow enough to walk on, but are difficult terrain. Due to the ship being damaged, it lists to the left and therefore moving from left to right aboard ship is also difficult. Kraken defenses: AC 24, Fort 26, Ref 22, Will 22 Soluzar is currently working on a character; if he finishes it before the battle is complete (quite likely) he'll be joining you midway. ![]() Most amazing jew boots
Last edited by The unmovable stubborn; Oct 1, 2010 at 10:00 AM.
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The fake one. I wrack my brain for whatever I can remember about giant octopi. Defenses? How ya doing, buddy? |
Puyet takes a few steps back and considers the situation.
Battlefront shift to BE50 "What would an octopus want with a scroll anyways? Cuz, you know, water is wet and all that shit." He thinks for a few more seconds. "This is BULLSHIT!" Puyet pulls out and flashes the false scroll tube. He really doubts the beast wants anything to do with it, but who knows anything at this point. Giant octopi don't exactly make any fucking sense. ...Splash! Secure weapon and draw scroll tube. Ensure Big Ugly can see it. MAN OVERBOARD! Run off edge of boat at BC53 Swim to BA53. Jam it back in, in the dark. ![]() |
Gargantuan aberrant magical beast (aquatic) The kraken turns its focus to Puyet with a swiftness unnatural in such a massive creature, and appears to hesitate. It'll have to either squeeze back beneath the hull, or just smash through it. The decision is easy. The kraken heaves a fraction of its mighty bulk onto the deck of the Swiftcurrent, lashing all around with its tentacles. Gra-fa-zut is caught unawares, seized around the waist by one of the kraken's great rubbery coils. It begins to squeeze him. Another tentacle lashes out in Glenn's direction, but the rogue is far too nimble to be caught by such an artless attack. Several other tentacles grasp the ship itself, splintering its timbers and preventing it trying to sail away. Coils of Doom Crushing Tentacles: +15 vs AC Devourer of Ships: +15 vs Fort 13 damage to Gra-fa-zut, and he's grabbed (immobilized) 16 damage to the Swiftcurrent (184 HP) If you're grabbed by the kraken, you can treat it as adjacent for the purpose of melee attacks (attacking the tentacle) Cal is too far away to reach at the moment, but this does not spare him the kraken's wrath. A spray of vile toxins jets out of the nearest tentacle, fouling Cal's eyes and wracking his face with pain. A cold, alien thought worms into his mind unbidden, like a stranger whispering into his ear. No one had spoken. The sudden darkness makes it all the more unnerving. Surrender the key to us, frail thing. All is in readiness. You can still be spared. Venom Bolt: +13 vs Fortitude 9 damage to Cal, blinded (save ends) ![]() There's nowhere I can't reach.
Last edited by The unmovable stubborn; Oct 1, 2010 at 02:23 PM.
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Kraken is quarry. Twin Strike against Tentacle to make it drop GFZ. Use duergar quill arrows, and activate Poisoned Weapon if hit. 9 damage? Move to BH52. (Sorry, forgot left > right = difficult) Is that thing attempting to communicate with me? I think back to it. I w-w-would h-h-hand it over if I c-c-c-could. B-b-but the orc's g-g-got it! This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it. |
Glenn shakes the feeling of irritation off. He had no time to think about such things right now. He cuts a deep wound into the tentacle holding the Genasi before trying to back up out of the way of the kraken's assault. Clever Strike vs. tentacle grabbing GFZ (assuming CA) +15 vs AC24, need 9+ hit, 16 damage. Use flaying gloves for extra 5 ongoing, for what it's worth. If i can, shift to BH50, otherwise, stand around and whistle or something, i guess. I am a dolphin, do you want me on your body? ![]() |
Enervating slash on tentacle. How do you miss something holding you. I was speaking idiomatically. 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. |
At any rate, Puyet vies for the docks and does his best to find a crowd of workers. He finds some people, but the sun in directly in his eyes, in addition to the salt water. He pulls some gold coins that was part of his payment and flashes them. He hollers as loud as he can, "Hey, ye mates. There's a good amount of gold, diplomatic gold! If you should help us bring down this giant octopus, there's a share in it for each person if you keep it from sinking to the bottom of the ocean! Move as far towards the docks and any crowd of people I see that is possible with double move and run. Diplomacy check. They are both the same, anyways. I'm not sure to the size of the crowd I'll find, either. What kind of toxic man-thing is happening now? ![]() |
Puyet half-swims, half trudges up the beach toward the dockside. Alas, not many folks are down by the piers so late in the afternoon, and many of those that were fled in abject terror the moment the Kraken had made its appearance. A few remain, though — mostly old dock workers, too jaded and bone-tired to really feel frightened of anything. A few more folks wander onto the scene as Puyet slogs his way through the water; excitable young hooligans, attracted by the ruckus. Several of them are carrying weapons, but after getting an eyeful of the aquatic monstrosity none of them seem all that enthused about rushing into battle. Still, Puyet's promise of easy pay is enough to motivate the small crowd into action. None of the Veltalarans are willing to risk their hides by getting anywhere near the beast, but they have a few bows between them and the docks are cluttered with usable improvised missiles. Soon the Kraken is being pelted with rocks, arrows, harpoons, empty barrels, and at least one dead cat. 2d8+5 damage/round to the Kraken, provided you keep it away from the docks Orc? Your cowardly friend is tall for an orc. No matter, he can be reasoned with. Or perhaps threatened. The orcs were never known for their mental acumen; things change quickly in your dry world, but I expect this fact has remained consistent through the centuries. Another example: changelings have an unrealistically high estimation of their own ability to mislead others. This is true of all your kind, and has been since the first of you escaped from the yuan-ti so very long ago. A failed experiment, changelings, but amusing in their own way. Did someone just throw a dinghy at me? Who does that, honestly. The poison Cal has delivered into the Kraken's bloodstream does nothing to shake its cold, impassive tone of (telepathic) voice. It seems entirely detached from the violent, thrashing creature that houses it. The Kraken continues to slowly heave its bulk aboard the deck of the Swiftcurrent. The ship, already battered beyond reason, is badly strained under the tremendous weight of the thing. A jet of toxins sprays in Glenn's direction; luckily, Cal's custom arrow has made the Kraken's aim a bit shaky. A tentacle flung at Glenn fares no better; perhaps all their little poisons were really making a difference! Then, with a mighty shudder, it seems that the beast has thrown off such encumbrances easily. Maybe they should find some more dinghies. 10 damage to Kraken from ongoings 17 damage to kraken from dinghy-in-the-face Sustain Minor: hold the grab vs Gra-fa-zut, 2 damage Ignore the tentacles vs. Cal roll, it's not possible Kraken has saving throws +5, eat it ![]() How ya doing, buddy?
Last edited by The unmovable stubborn; Oct 4, 2010 at 07:40 AM.
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Mr. Kraken, you have to believe me. None of us have the scroll. It's with the orc. Well. Half-orc actually. Don't know what his mum saw in his father. Please let my friends go. Free them, and I promise I'll convince him to hand you the scroll he's carrying. See? I'm heading there right now. And as if to punctuate my earnest feelings, I choose not to attack; instead I head full speed towards dry land, taking a flying leap while right on the boat stem to land on the docks. Move > Run to AZ51. Standard > Run to AR49, long jump originating from AU50. Athletics 3 + 12 = 15 / 5 (running start) = 3 squares cleared horizontally. Minor > Draw rotten dog balls from pack. The one taken from here. Granting combat advantage due to huffin' and puffin' Most amazing jew boots |
let's try something new Clever Riposte vs kraken, need 11+ 9 damage, plus other effects glare at kraken, since i can't move without getting whacked Jam it back in, in the dark. ![]() |
Aegis on kraken (LET"S GET OUT OF THIS THING< RITE) Thunderclap strike on Kraken I can't hit for shit There's nowhere I can't reach. 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. |
Well, if you can't beat them, join them.
Climb up on dock. Move to AS48 Grab a dinghy. This thing is sticky, and I don't like it. I don't appreciate it. ![]() |
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