Skulls and Shackles pt 1: The Wormwood Mutiny (IC)

[thegoldenfedora]

Grayson tsks at the state of the water in the bilge and quietly listens to the man's insults as he wipeds the spittle from his face.

"If you truly are going to die tonight, wouldn't you like your last conversation to be a little more pleasant?" he hangs his shirt up and gets to work on the pump, "It must be hard knowing that the only thing you can do to rebel against your fate is to yell and curse especially when you know it won't do you a lick of good, I'd bet you were insulting the chains and spitting on the ladder before I came down here." He pauses his work for just a moment, his eyes adjusting to the point that he could see his captured antagonizer.

"Really though the only chance you have of doing something with what remains of your life and revenge against this miserable lot is through me." He looks the chained man dead in the eye, "I've been pressganged here and I'll tell you, I have a monstrous urge to send some of those officers to Besmara's pets. So maybe you can help me do that and laugh your way to the bottom of the ocean knowing that your blazing the trail for several others." He turns back to his work,
"Or I could hit you so hard you don't wake up until the moment you die.

[PallentisLunam]

The chained pirate continues unconcerned by Grayson's threat. The abuse only ends when the frustrated pump worker feels a length of rope float past him in the foul water. Taking a momentary break from his duties Grayson collects the rope and with a swift fist to the gut stuns the foul Magpie for long enough to gag him with the slimy piece of cord.

Shortly before the last bell a cabin girl appears in the kitchen with Anika and the drunken Fishguts. "The captain's dinner," she demands addressing the cook in an impertinent tone.

"Aye, lass," Fishguts responds filling a fine bowl with soup in front of her. The girl tastes it, nods, and departs with the bowl on a silver serving tray. Fishguts then sinks back into his corner cradling his bottle of rum.

Ankia just finishes hauling the second cauldron of soup to the top of the forward stairs as the day's final bell sounds out across the ship and the open water Harrigan's voice rings out from the poop deck, "Bring her in!"

Instantly Mr. Plugg and Master Scourge begin shouting orders, "Furl all sails!"

"Drop anchor!"

The pirates comply and shortly the ship is brought to a halt. The hands all grumble softly to each other as Harrigan moves towards the forward rail of the poop deck. "All hands before tha mast!" he barks. Gale and her fellow riggers drop to the deck. The swabs all wander over from their various duties. Grayson comes up from the hold smelling of sewage. As the sailors begin to congregate they mumble to each other. Whispered bets are placed. The words "Bloody Hour" pass from several lips. The captain silences all with an imperious wave of his hand. "Master Scourge, retrieve the condemned. Mr. Plugg, you may begin." Scourge motions to two hands and heads below decks.

The sun's orange disc touches the surface of the glassy sea as Mr. Plugg grins sadistically. A pair of ropes hanging from the mast with slipknots on the ends of them are used to secure sailors who in some manner failed in their duties or earned the ire of their officers during the day. The backs of most of the sailors are a patchwork of old scars. Punishments range from being struck once with the heavy, sealed end of a mooring rope, an act seen as more humiliating than painful, to lashes with a whip, to strokes of the cat. Plugg seems to get a perverse pleasure out of all but the first.

Salazar is brought to the mast for his "transgressions" and his hands are put through the knots. "Three lashes to learn you how to better chase rats!" he cackles.

Spoiler: Rolls

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To hit rolls only matter if they come up 1 in which case they miss
To hit: (1d20)[4] Damage: (1d3+2)[5] Nonlethal
To hit: (1d20)[4] Damage: (1d3+2)[5] Nonlethal
To hit: (1d20)[19] Damage: (1d3+2)[3] Nonlethal

After all such punishments are meted out, most of the crew are ordered to the forecastle as Master Scourge and his two assistants emerge from below. Mr. Plugg hands a rope to a sailor that he kept on the main deck with him and the man takes a running start before diving off the side of the boat into the water. A second assistant drops a rope ladder off the opposite side of the ship. Captain Harrigan speaks again, "Jake Magpie, you stand accused of stealing from your captain and his officers! You have already pled guilty to your crimes and now I pronounce your sentence: you are to be keelhauled! Should you survive your sins will be counted as forgiven and you will be restored to the crew. Should you perish your sins will be counted as forgiven and your body will be fed to the sharks. Do you have any last words?"

This last remark by Harrigan is especially cruel as none of the pirates have bothered to remove the gag Grayson put on Jake earlier in the day. As the captain finishes his speech the man to whom Mr. Plugg handed the rope reemerges on the opposite side of the ship from where he jumped off and climbs the ladder. The rope which has now been looped underneath the ship is handed to the first mate. Plugg ties the rope around Magpie's waist. The accused pirate's wrists and ankles are bound. Mr. Plugg, Master Scourge, and two of their assistants grab the rope and take up the slack as the other two assistants carry Jake to the gunwale. "Begin!"

Jake is thrown overboard and the four sailors begin to haul on the rope. Mr. Plugg's glee is sickening to watch, even for the seasoned hands. About a minute later what is brought up on the other side of the ship is entirely unrecognizable as the sailor sentenced to death. "Feed the sharks it is!" The body is thrown overboard.

Harrigan descends the stairs from the poop deck and heads into his cabin calling for his officers to join him. Anika is stuck serving out ladles of soup to the crew in a collection of wooden bowls brought up from the kitchen. As dinner begins to finish up and bowls are pushed back in the halfling's direction the officers reemerge from the captain's cabin. A lithe, sinewy half orc woman with an old scar across her throat heads below deck and comes back up shortly with a barrel of rum and a box of wooden cups. The officers mingle amongst the crew as rations of rum are passed out to each and every sailor.

Clumps of people begin to form both above and below decks, even up in the rigging, as the pirates take up various entertainments from arm wresting on a barrel topped with broken glass as crew members place bets, to off key singing and drunken storytelling. Master Scourge and Mr. Plugg sit talking with several pirates who seem to enjoy their company. The occasional sour glance is thrown at one of the new recruits.

Spoiler: OoC

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Players may now take their nighttime ship actions and/or interact with the crew in whatever manner they please. All characters except for Salazar gain 100 XP for successfully completing their day's task. All characters also have the choice of either drinking their rum ration or trying to quietly dispose of it. It is clear that not drinking one's rum is cause for severe punishment. Characters who drink their rum take 1d3 CON damage and are Fatigued for 1d8 hours. They also gain a 1d4 alchemical bonus to CHA. In addition anyone who drinks their rum must make a DC 5 Fort Save or become addicted suffering a -2 penalty to CON.

Salazar falls unconscious from the pain of the three lashes. He is dragged away from the mast to the hoots and jeers of the crew. Moments later he awakes with Sandara leaning over him. "Besmara bless you, but you're not going to last very long at this if you keep up like that," she says hauling the wizard to his feet and motioning for him to rejoin the crowd. "Gather your allies and we can talk after the meal."

[thegoldenfedora]

Grayson Wilkes

As the bell rings, Grayson takes one last look at the domed man, "Besmara take you, even if you see are a prick" he ascends the ladder, hopping from rung to rung while leaving missing leg dangling. As he reaches top side takes a giant breath of the fresh air.

He watches stoicly as the swabs get ready for the bloody hour. He had seen enough whippings to know what was going to happen next. Plugg's desire for blood did not go unnoticed by Grayson and he spit over the rail in disgust. One of the men who had been pressganged at the same time was brought up to the mast. Someone's in for a rude awakening.

He becomes distracted from the show off violence by the setting sun, finding the view enrapturing, certainly better than people getting whipped. His reverie is broken as the swabs prepare for the keel hauling. For one moment he meets Jake's eyes as he is dragged by, what a waste.. When the body is pulled up he gives it no mind. "A poor offering to the pirate queen." he mutters under his breath.

As the little girl from before comes by with the food he stops get for just a moment. "How was the kitchen little one? My name is Grayson, if ever you need anything you come find me."

[Nomrom]

Beniel

When the final bell finally rang out and all hands were called to the mast, Beniel gratefully threw down the sail he was repairing and made his way with the others. The work had decidedly not been enjoyable, but at least he'd done a decent job at it - enough to avoid the whip at least, he hoped. One of his fellow press-mates didn't seem to have been so lucky. It was the same man from before who had tried to hide instead of climbing the mast. "Poor fool ain't cut out for this life, it seems," he remarked.

Then some other man, a thief apparently, was brought on deck to be "keelhauled." Beniel only knew the concept from some stories he told, but it didn't seem that anyone ever survived the ordeal. Beniel just shrugged his shoulders at the execution. Beniel wasn't above common theft, but there were usually safer ways to get what you needed in his mind. He voiced aloud his opinion again, "If'n you're dumb enough to steal from them that can hurt you, I say you deserve whatever comes to you."

With that, the punishments ended and the crew set out to eat, drink, and enjoy themselves. Strange as it seemed, it appeared that he and the others were free to do whatever they wanted. Apparently, as long as they did their jobs, they were just like everybody else. Confused by their strange situation, Beniel sought out the little girl who'd been sent to work in the kitchen and accepted a bowl of soup. No fine feast by any means, but Beniel didn't eat much better in the taverns he frequented anyways. More eagerly, he accepted his daily ration of rum from the half-orc serving it out. Beniel preferred wine, but any alcohol would do right now. He quickly downed both only to discover the rum was stronger than anything he'd had before and it hit him hard.

Doing his best to fend off the drowsiness that poured over him, he moved to find Cog and joined the group he was standing with. Now was to time to make himself a part of the crew, and if he was going to make friends with some of the pirates, it might as well include the man he had to work with. Waiting for just the right moment, he jumped in to begin telling one of his favorite stories. "Alright mates, who here has heard The Tale of Captain Webfoot the Frog Pirate! Now that's a fine comedy if there ever was one..." He could them from the start that he had their attention. The drunken pirate crew seemed to love every word that came out of his mouth. This might have been his best performance ever!

Spoiler: OOC

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Beniel drinks the rum and uses his night action to try to entertain the crew. Rolls are in the OOC thread.
2 Con damage.
Fatigued for 8 hours.
1 Cha bonus.
Fort save (DC 5) to avoid addiction [7]
Perform (Oratory) [27]

[PallentisLunam]

Cog is off by himself at the prow of the boat drinking, staring out over the water as the moon begins to rise, and above all brooding to himself. He tells Beniel, in no uncertain terms, to shove off. "We ain't chums, and I don't want ta have to see yer ugly face anymore than I already has today."

Beniel takes the hint and goes to find a more welcoming group of sailors to share his story with. Soon he has them all but rolling on the deck as he acts out his humorous sketch for their amusement. His performance is so talented that he draws the attention of all those on deck who stop what they are doing to listen and participate, ooh'ing and ahh'ing and laughing at all the right moments. Mr. Plugg and Master Scourge, who are sitting together near the doors to the officers quarters below the forecastle scowl unamused as their posse of sycophants and toadies are distracted by Beniel's performance. Even Cogsworth wanders over to the forecastle railing to listen and laugh.

Spoiler: Check Results

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Beniel's performance grants him a +2 on all charisma based checks to interact with any of his listeners for the next 24 hours.

[Ravenica]

Anika

The pots were heavy but she did her best to not spill any. Spilling would be bad. "Hungry pirates are angry pirates", Dolly reminds her, her old cooks words.

She jumps at the captain's voice but as he calls for hands before the mast she grins, she is familiar with how discipline is aboard a ship. She jostles and dodges legs for a good position, finally settling atop one of the auxiliaries. Her eyes go wide when it comes to the keel hauling. Watching people get beaten is one thing but this is something else. As the captain pronounces him Besmara's Breakfast she slides down the side of the boat and quickly gets back to her duties with the ladle. Clutching Dolly all the tighter and promising herself that won't be her. She dishes the food wordlessly and gives in to every rude demand and brusque dismissal with an only partly feigned meekness. Each face of each aggressor is seared into her mind and each one she gets a name to put to the face to is whispered in Dolly's ear for proper retribution later.

As the big grey haired man stops her and introduces himself she smiles and says, "I'm Anika Mr Grayson Sir, cook was nice didn't even beat me a little, like my last cook. Born and sailed on the Fell Tide until she floated into the mist and the crew was taken, Sailed on the Raging Ripper from when they found the Tide until we docked in Port Peril. First time I'd ever been ashore. " She grins but then looks at the Dolly and it "speaks", "Didn't last long, the sea wanted her back and the sea takes what it wants.". She nods emphatically, agreeing to it. Then she continues on with her task, trying to draw as little attention to herself as possible. As the silly juice was dolled out she wrinkled her nose at it,Looking up at the half-orc with pleading eyes she says, "Not 'apposed to have the silly juice. Makes me sleep all day and leaves the cook might cross with me." Bluff (1d20+9)[17]

After clearing away the dishes and securing her freedom for the night she slips off to find the redheaded woman. She wanted to secure this ally as quickly as possible. But she couldn't help but take the opportunity to sneak around the ship and see what she could find. She slips down to the first deck and heads aft to see what is about.

Spoiler

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ooc stuff, I'm going to attempt a single midwatch action, to try and influence someone from the existing crew in their sleep. The other halfling, though she knows nothing about her, seems the biggest threat, most likely to expose her ploy if not brought to heel. First a dream leech then the oneironmancy.
con: (1d20+1)[6]
DC 13 for dream leech
Oneironmancy (diplomacy) (1d20+3)[17] (+4 additional if leech save failed)
She will also take the opportunity (assuming they are all asleep at this point) to use her sow thoughts on Benial, Gale, Thellen, and Salazar, to try implanting the "Protect the little one" idea.
If any one of them isn't asleep she will use the spare casting on the halfling DC 14

[theasl]

Gale is a bit reluctant to drink, but she knows the rules, and downs her rum slowly. When she's done, she climbs back up as high as she can into the rigging to watch the crew and try to chat a little with some of the sailors up there, relaxing from the day's work with the cool evening wind blowing in her hair. As the frivolities wind down, she descends and follows the others to sleep.

Spoiler: ooc

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Spoiler: rolls

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con damage (1d3)[3]
fatigued time (1d8)[4]
cha bonus (1d4)[1]
fort save (1d20+2)[14] (-2 if the con damage is in effect for this)

Anyone I can try to influence? Preferably another rigger. If I need checks to get up and/or down, any penalties for being drunk?

[aberratio ictus]

Alistair Notelgamore, esq.

The first shift on the ship had not gone as badly as he had anticipated. The work had been doable, and while Cog wasn't the most personable of people, Alistair had the feeling he had managed to get him to open up a bit over the course of the day. Still, a tough nut to crack.

Finally, Captain Harrigan gathered the crew to administer discipline. It seemed quite a few of the sailors had failed in their duties today, among them the man who had been whipped before, for not even trying to climb the rigging.

Alistair watched stoically, he was no stranger to public punishments of sailors. Even the keelhauling was nothing new, sadly - although he wisely avoided looking at the bloody carcass the pirates brought up on the other side.

And then, it was over. When the little girl gave him his ration of soup, he gave her an encouraging smile and a nod. At least she had gotten a fairly decent job, he thought, she could manage.

It only took a little sip from the cup to notice - that stuff was absolutely vile. He simply couldn't do it, but he felt the pirates would take offence to him refusing to drink, so he had to find a way to get out of this particular predicament.

Spoiler: rolls

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If needed, bluff check to pretend to drink if someone closely watches him:
(1d20+8)[13]
Later, try to subtly dispose of the rum back into the barrel or somewhere else where it won't be noticed via sleight of hand:
(1d20+7)[13]

Alistair was amongst those listening to "The Tale of Captain Webfoot the Frog Pirate", as narrated by Beniel. At first, he was determined to tell a little tale of his own afterwards, but as the story progressed, and the Chelish Lieutenant found himself laughing along, it dawned on him that it was hard and unwise to try to follow up a story so well told, a fact he begrudgingly accepted.

When Beniel ended, he applauded and took a bow. "Truly, an excellent story, masterfully told. My compliments." he said, genuinely impressed.

All that was left to do now was to mingle. Alistair noticed the beautiful halfling woman who had been on deck as well. Her very colourful speech had been hard to overhear, but she had seemed quite open to conversation; Alistair had seen her talking to the tall, grinning man who had been with them in the hold. She seemed like one with some influence aboard the ship; a good place to start. After another fairly impressive neologism, Alistair approached her.
"You seem to be quite the wordsmith. May I ask, do you come up with your words spontaneously, or are you keeping a notebook?" he asked, a winning smile on his face.

Spoiler: Roll

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Trying to influence the halfling woman:
(1d20+9)[11]

[thegoldenfedora]

Grayson Wilkes

Grayson watches the little girl skip away trying to figure out how such a small thing could undergo such hardships and what in the world was going on with her doll. He looks at the crew and remembers just how much he would rather be alone right now.

He takes his grog with a thanks and greedily chugs it down, deciding that he must at least try to make small talk and remarking to the half orc, "That's quite the scar you got there" he gestures to his own scar of a shark bite spanning across the right side of his face and down to his shoulder "I wish our bodies didn't have to be such wonderful canvases to paint the pictures of our past."

Spoiler: ooc

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con loss (1d3)[2]
Cha boost (1d4)[4]
Addiction (1d20+6)[13]
I'm generally going to try and avoid having to use diplomacy since Grayson will probable just make things worse each time but if you need it for this interaction here it is!
Diplomacy (1d20-1)[9] edit: with how cool Grayson becomes when he drinks grog that becomes an 11 on the diplomacy roll

[PallentisLunam]

Anika explores the aft portion of the middle deck. Most of the crew is either up top or down below, not wanting to share their free time with the pigs. She sneaks her way through the galley, taking a peek into the quartermaster's store and finally poking around Fishgut's quarters as he snores uproariously in his bed. More empty rum bottles roll back and forth with the motion of the ship.

Wandering over to a less crowded part of the ship Alistair times his movement with the gentle rocking of the sea and turns a simple drinking motion into a maneuver that sends the contents of his cup sail over his shoulder and into the briny depths off the stern. A quick subtle glance around shows that nobody is any the wiser, so he heads off to chat up the halfling woman with the foul mouth.

Rosie scoffs at Alistair, "I've a natural talent for wordsmithin' as you put it and no talent fer writin'." She wrinkles her nose and downs the rest of her rum ration. "And no taste for this foul brew. Ahh, I grow tried of grog and fish chowder. Bring me a fine wine or, even better, a bottle o' brandy any day over this poison." Once again Rosie is friendly enough and spends the evening talking mostly of better food and drink, often mixing in truly startling and inventive language. She also appears particularly taken with Beniel's story, "Never heard that one before, and it's rare for someone to tell a story I haven't heard."

Spoiler: Rosie Influence Check Results

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You have failed to influence Rosie Cusswell.

As Grayson approaches it's clear that the half-orc has a head start on everybody else. The green skin across the bridge of her nose as a bit of a rosy tinge to it. Her voice is raspy, probably due to the scar, "Ya, it'd be nice but tha world ain't nice, 'nd flowery words won't change that," she says with a drunken smile "But that's a'right cause the gods in their great wisdom gave us DRINK!" she says the last word with a shout and raises her cup in the air. Most of the pirates nearby roar their approval and do the same, even if they didn't hear why they are drinking. The quartermaster sighs and makes a face, "Though sometimes I do wish for something other than rum and chanteys every night."

Spoiler: Cut-throat Grok Influence Check Results

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You have failed to influence Cut-throat Grok.

[theasl]

As she's hanging up in the rigging, Gale spots a few friendly faces - well, relatively friendly, compared to some of the others. One of these is a halfling who's missing a few fingers; Gale knows from experience that behind every missing digit is a great story...even if she's not quite clear on what hers is. Approaching the halfling, she greets him cordially, waving her left hand (which is missing a pinky).

Spoiler: OOC

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If he responds favorably to greeting, attempt to ask about the fingers. Diplomacy: (1d20)[13]

[thegoldenfedora]

Grayson Wilkes

Grayson lifts his cup to the half orcs cheer. He goes to drink from his cup, noticing that it is already empty with a look of surprise. He grunts and sets the cup down. "My name is Grayson Wilkes, and while I only know one chantey, I've certainly had my share of rum, and I'm curious what could beat drinking and song on such a night?"

[Kvard51]

The mast... I guess a few more scars won't kill me. But I'm going to have to adjust to life on this ship quickly, or I'll be too weak to survive.

Salazar grimaces, does his best to salute the Captain, and returns to his vermin hunting. I'll need to find a place to hide my spellbook,
so that I can be ready, when the time comes.

Spoiler: OOC

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Perception to find a good hiding spot for the spellbook (1d20+0)[5]

Sleight of hand to actually hide it, in case he is being watched (1d20+0)[7]

...

As his hands are shoved through the knots, Salazar steels himself for the stroke of the lash, but the force of it still comes as a shock.

**CRACK**

He grits his teeth in an effort to not cry out. As the scourge pulls away from his back it leaves behind a line of pure fire...

**CRACK**

A low cry escapes his lips before he can clamp back down. The fire from seconds before is now in inferno on his back.

**CRACK**

As the last lash lands, white light explodes in his head and he knows no more...

Salazar falls unconscious from the pain of the three lashes. He is dragged away from the mast to the hoots and jeers of the crew. Moments later he awakes with Sandara leaning over him. "Besmara bless you, but you're not going to last very long at this if you keep up like that," she says hauling the wizard to his feet and motioning for him to rejoin the crowd. "Gather your allies and we can talk after the meal."

...

Salazar staggers off into the crowd, barely able to keep his feet under him. His back burned with a living flame. Allies? I don't have any allies. Perhaps she means those who were pressed aboard with me. Using that thought to stay conscious, Salazar slips next to each of them, one by one, and uses a spell, Message, to pass along the request, "Gather on the foredeck after the meal.
Sandara wishes to speak to us all.

[aberratio ictus]

Alistair Notelgamore, esq.

after the whipping

Alistair only flinched a bit when he heard an unfamiliar voice in his head, then nodded. Luckily for Salazar, Alistair had been with a sorceress before, and this method of communicating had gotten much use in those days.

presently

"I thought as much. If anything that makes it more impressive." he replied, a bit awkwardly, to Rosie's indignant reply. Still, she was easy to talk to, and the dominating topic was to Alistair's taste, as well.
"Have you ever tried Brandy from Macini? Best one I ever had."
He kept on talking with her for a while, making jokes and bantering, but left for the foredeck in time to meet up with Sandara; Alistair took care not to leave with someone else as to not raise suspicion, instead, he waited until he could go there alone.

Once there, he leaned against the rail, waiting for Sandara and the others to appear.

[PallentisLunam]

The halfling responds to Gale's wave with a squinty grin that serves to accentuate just how rodent-like his face is. The two very quickly develop a rapport as the halfling, who goes by the moniker Ratline, and Gale exchange the stories of how they lost their respective digits.

As it turns out Ratline lost the two fingers on his right hand on his very first voyage in his very first storm. His fear at the madness of the storm drove him to loop a couple of ropes around his hands. When a particularly large wave hit he was knocked off his feet and the bones in his hand were crushed because he couldn't let go of the ropes. The only thing the ship's surgeon could do was remove the first and second fingers of his right hand to prevent rot. His third finger he lost in a fishing accident when he made the mistake of trying to unsnarl a line while he had a hook in the water. Long story short he got the ring finger on his left hand into the knot just as a great big shark took hold of the line and snapped it taut and ripping his finger right off. But at least he caught and roasted the shark.

Spoiler: Ratline Influence Check Results

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Ratline is now friendly towards Gale.

Cut-throat Grok laughs at Grayson's question, "Nothing ever beats drinking and singing!" she explains, "but I can think o' plenty that beats this rotgut and their tunes." Grok gestures towards the drunken sailors singing loudly and off key about rusty razors and captains daughters. "Gimme elven wine or Chelish brandy! Sing me sagas and ballads!" she winks at Grayson. "This crew could do with a touch o' culture most nights."

[theasl]

Gale listens with interest as Ratline regales her with the tales of his lost fingers - she's a bit ashamed that hers isn't quite as great. She'd been training with a gun as a little kid on the Tide - one day it must have misfired, the blast wave knocking her unconscious. Next thing she knew, she was in the cabin with a massive headache and a bandaged hand, minus a finger. Nobody ever told her what exactly happened and it led to her pinky coming off, but she's gotten quite used to it by now.

== flashback ==

Gale whips her head around as a strange voice enters her head, but she quickly realizes it's being transmitted wordlessly. Dutifully, she goes to the foredeck after eating.

[Nomrom]

Beniel

Beniel had meant to get good rest tonight so that he'd be sure to perform his assigned tasks acceptably tomorrow, but the atmosphere on the pirate ship just didn't seem to allow it. The rum coupled with the rousing reaction to his performance led him to seek out the company of his new crew mates instead of his bed as would have been more appropriate. Hopefully, it wouldn't come back to bit him in the morning.

While working, Beniel had noticed one of the pirate women running messages around the ship, and was pleased to see her among his crowd. After he finished his tale and the group around him moved to new entertainment, Beniel took the opportunity to introduce himself. "The name's Beniel. Pleased you enjoyed the tale. Nothing like a good laugh and good drinks to get the spirits flowing, I say. Now if'n you'd like to hear something more, just come on round and ask Beniel. I've always got a story for any mood."

Spoiler: OOC

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Diplomacy: (1d20+4)[11]
Con (1d20+1)[10]

[thegoldenfedora]

"Gimme elven wine or Chelish brandy! Sing me sagas and ballads!" she winks at Grayson. "This crew could do with a touch o' culture most nights."

Grayson, feels an odd pull on his face and realized that he is genuinely smiling, something he didn't really expect to do until he had some certain officers neck in his hands.

"Ha, you mean to tell me the pirate ship that abducts its crew from drunks at dive bars and routinely whips them like slaves is lacking in culture? he goes to drink from his grog, again realizing once more that he really needed to learn how to sip. "Well, good song I can't quite do." he pauses for just a moment for his icing pun, "I Be Flat, but if a glass of elven wine turns up, I'd be happy to share that with you and pretend that culture isn't entirely lost."

[PallentisLunam]

Tilly introduces herself and flirts shamelessly with Beniel. She is obviously quite intoxicated and Beniel is fairly certain that she won't remember much of the evening come first bell.

Spoiler: Tilly Influence Check Results

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You have failed to influence Tilly and Beniel is Fatigued.

Grok punches Grayson in the arm, maybe a little harder than she intended, "Come on now. Look at this crew. Do you really think lessh discipline is what they need?" she asks the faintest hint of a drunken slur entering her words, despite all of the rum she has consumed. She snatches Grayson's cup and refills both his and hers, "To better drinks and better jokes!" she says thrusting it back at him for a toast.

[thegoldenfedora]

Grayson Wilkes

"Ha! I'll drink to one of those things!" he happily drinks his new cup and cheers to the half orc's toast. He banters a little while longer before heading to meet with Sandara.

Spoiler: More Rum!

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Con loss(1d3)[1]
Addiction save (1d20+5)[11]

[HappyMerecat]

Thellan

Thellan does his best to avoid trouble and looks for a game to get involved with. In the mean time he will use sleight of hand to dispose of his drink without anyone noticing.

Spoiler: Crunch

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Takes 10 on Sleight of hand for 20.

[PallentisLunam]

A lantern swings gently from the foremast as Sandara and the Wormwood's latest recruits gather on the deck beneath it. The raucous crew on the main deck provides suitable background noise for what almost instantly seems like a meeting of conspirators. A gentle sea breeze blows across the deck plucking at Sandara's fiery locks, "I'd say some of you already know at least part of what I'm about to say but I'll say it anyways, here on the Wormwood, who you know matters even more than what you know. We're all in tight quarters and I'd say you've already made a couple of very powerful enemies, through no fault of your own. I would say this makes us natural allies." She smiles sincerely and bows deeply "Sandara Quinn, humble servant of the Pirate Queen, at your service. If I might be so bold I would suggest that you make yourselves amenable to Grok first. She's got your kit, but she's also got the authority to give it back, though I wouldn't go tromping across the deck with a boarding pike if I was you. As members of the crew you get births and lockers. Best to keep your stuff in there. 'Cept you should change the locks as soon as you can, and keep a weathered eye on your gear even at that."

Spoiler: OoC

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Posting this now, partially complete before I become a victim of severe weather and lose internet access. Feel free to participate and I will be back in the morning.

[thegoldenfedora]

Grayson Wilkes

Grayson was on edge the with the Chelaxian officer standing right next to him. Memories keep flooding forth of his treatment at the hands of similar authority, and it made his own hands ache for something to do, or at the very least to hurt. He breathes deep to quell such thoughts, reminding himself that he is not the monster and that they were all in the same boat.

He nods at Sandra before he begins to speak. He speaks slowly and deliberately, forcing each word to come out hoping that he can properly ingratiate himself to this new group. "My name is Grayson, also a follower of Besmara," he says with a thumb towards the symbol carved into his leg with a hint of pride, "and the first man I had a conversation with on this boat ended with him being gagged on a soiled piece of rope." He figured telling then about Magpie, was the only way he could explain to others how little skill he had in the ways of social graces.

"I try to keep to myself most of the time, however I've talked with Grok and I think that if there was a particularly fine wine or brandy, I could use that to get on her good side." he pauses thinking for a moment, wishing that circumstances didn't force him to be so present in this conversation.
"I have some skill at whittling, if there was a piece of wood and a knife or my tools, I could probably fashion a small weapon, one that would be easily concealable."

[aberratio ictus]

Alistair Notelgamore, esq.

That man beside him did seem quite nervous, Alistair noticed, with a sidelong glance. It was probably no wonder, considering him and specifically his little daughter were stuck on the Wormwood with a horde of pirates who obiously had no qualms mistreating a little girl. He had given him a friendly nod as he arrived; he could certainly do with a little reassurance.

"Pleased to make your acquaintance. Alistair Notelgamore, though Alistair will suffice under these circumstances." Alistair introduced himself the Sandara and the others who didn't already know his name; he took a measured bow himself.
Getting his belongings back sounded great, especially the rapier.

"Grok is... that half-orc woman, correct?" Alistair paused, waiting for a nod as confirmation. "She was asking for a ballad. If she was serious, I can definitely provide that."

[PallentisLunam]

Sandara nods and smiles, "Ya, all pirates have their quirks. Grok is also quite superstitious. I warned her that my kit was blessed by Besmara and that my lady would not be gentle with any who kept such things from her servant. All a load of bilge water of course." The pirate winks in a flirtatious and conspiratorial manner at Beniel. "The trick to surviving is learning these quirks. Well that using 'em to make friends, or at least cow enemies. Scourge and Plugg are strong but even they aren't much if their cronies like you better than they like those two, or if they're more afraid of you than them"

At Grayson's words Sandara reaches into her boot and with a flick of her wrist a dagger seems almost appear out of thin air floating lazily in front of her face. She catches it by the blade and extends the handle towards him, "Will this do for now?" she asks with a teasing smile. "Just make sure I get it back. Things would have gone differently for me with Scourge if I hadn't been able to threaten to prick his prick." The humor drains out of her face and what it leaves behind can only be called cold steel made flesh. Sandara is just as dangerous as she is friendly it would seem. Then an instant later the moment has passed and the playful twinkle returns to her eyes. "There's also plenty laying around that nobody'd miss. You could snag a hammer for crackin skulls rather than driving nails, a rope can be looped around a throat just as easily as a cleat, a sack fits nicely over someone's head. Just remember, don't kill none of 'em, or if you have to, at least don't get caught. Magpie was a rotten sonuvabitch, but even he didn't deserve to die like that. Harrigan should have just done him with his pistol, quick and clean." The pirate woman trails off glancing up at the moon.

[Ravenica]

Anika

Quiet until now, Anika perks up, "I can get knifeses from the kitchen, and maybe other things. Mr Fishguts is slovenly and a sot so he probably won't notice. The quartermasters store is unlocked right now...", she shivers, "But I'm not going in there after what happened to Mr Sharkfood."

Cheering up a little her demeanor shifts as she hugs Dolly, "I'm Anika and I don't like those nasty men one bit, and I bet it was one of them that took Dolly so they deserve what's commen to 'em. I'm not so good in the fight but I can do other things, I can get places tight and people like me." She dimples, doing her best to look innocent.

Spoiler

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Taking ten on the bluff to look innocent Total 19

[Kvard51]

Salazar Black

"Once I've got my pouch with the makin's in it, I'll put that book you gave me today to work. The lot of them won't be able to stand up to the magic I can weave." Salazar's face takes on a look of rage for a second, then it is gone. "As for Scourge and Plugg, they'll end up feeding the sharks. I'll vow that by Besmara's tits, I will. I'll do it, or I'm not Salazar Black, grandson of Barnabas Black!"

Sal looks around the gathering, as if expecting you all to have heard of Barnabas Black. When no one responds, he says, "Well, I'm Salazar Black. I'll get us free from these buggers soon enough."

[PallentisLunam]

Sandara looks a touch unnerved by Anika and her doll, as though maybe she's wondering just what she got herself into when Salazar speaks up. "Whoa there, boy. Take it easy with that kind of talk. Even with a skeleton crew, no officer in their right mind is going to sit by fer a mutiny. Ye might be strong but I doubt you can take on the whole crew and the Cap'n. Makes no difference who's blood is in your veins when it's pourin' out on the deck. Let's just focus on still being around next week. Revenge'll come later."

[theasl]

Gale is a bit suspicious of Sandara's sympathy, though if she's an...honest...follower of Besmara, she can't be too bad. Gale knows as well as anyone that she'll need friends to survive, and if this Sandara can be trusted, she might be the difference between life and death. And if her story is true...well, Sandara is much more attractive than Gale is, but she'd better watch out nonetheless.

Spoiler: roll

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sense motive (1d20+4)[23] to determine if she is trustworthy

[PallentisLunam]

Spoiler: Sense Motive Check Result

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Your gut tells you that Sandara is being straight with the group. She appears to honestly despise Plugg and Scourge and she appears to honestly want to make friends. Of course she gets something out of that arrangement as well but she's also clearly bringing something to the table.