Merchants of Elm (IC)

[Lonna]

Lonna seems to deflate, leaning against a wall for a moment. "You're right," she says, her voice barely audible. "I'm sorry, you're right."

She straightens and looks around at the others, her new lack of purpose and determination making her suddenly seem younger than a moment ago, as if she had reverted to her actual age. "So what do we do now?"

[Another_Poet]

* thud thud *

[Ghal Marak]

Venistara

Propping herself against the door frame, Venistara spoke up. "They... they were nesting by the river right? Can't we just move away from the river? They might leave." She shrugged her good shoulder and went on. "I mean, it's worth a shot."

[Another_Poet]

Orgin grimaces again. "That'll mean leaving the marked caravan route, but that might be our best shot. I'll need to see to do it, though."

[Ghal Marak]

Venistara

Venistara let go and walked over to Orgin. "Well, it's not much, but I can shroud you in a protective spell if you chose to go out there. It won't last long though, so it needs to be quick."

[Another_Poet]

"Sure. And I might be able to just look out the hatch, without going out all the way."

[Psionic Dog]

Saker

*Sigh*
"I'll get my crossbow. We really should invest in some tough armor for you." he grumbles a bit to Origin. "It doesn't matter how heavy or bulky the stuff is if all you do is stand in one spot and mentally drive this barge, and it would make little things like these rays even less a worry."

*Sigh*
"Well one thing I've learned is if you're going to be miserable with worry you may as well be miserable and productive. The worst that'll happen is for everything you do to die, but that's still better than turning suicidal or fading into a whimpering basket-case. Besides, the darker the storm the more brilliant the sun will seem.

Now come on, lets get this over with. I suppose our best fighters, Drago and Rustin I believe, should step topside and fend off any attacks on the professor, who just needs to stick his head out the hatch. I'll provide ranged support from the mid-hatch."

[Another_Poet]

((Okay, head on up topside guys. You will get cover (+4 AC) from the hatches. You'll see 2 rapiers hammering away near the observation deck, one on each side about 30' away; and 4 more about 80' fore of the mid-hatch. I'll post the next round either when you all get in position, or tomorrow, whichever comes first.))

[Duke of URL]

Garrin

Garrin says nothing, but readies his crossbow on the off-hand chance he might need to do something useful.

[Another_Poet]

((Are you going to one of the hatches then, Garrin?))

[Duke of URL]

(( Yeah, just to provide covering fire if possible. A negligible chance of being useful is better than no chance... )

[Psionic Dog]

Saker
A few seconds latter, after moving to his position...

*Twang*

The uncle fires a bolt at one of the rapiers hammering away near the observation deck from the mid-hatch where he's taking cover.

Spoiler

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attack - (1d20+4)[19] (1d8)[4]
CritCheck - (1d20+4)[21]

[Another_Poet]

Orgin, Draego and Rustin ((I'm gonna sssume he goes along with the plan for the sake of moving things along)) head to the obs deck hatch while Garrin and Saker head to the mid hatch.

The rapiers near the obs deck swarm the hatch, but due to some quick manoeuvring and the heavy wood of the hatch cover, none of their tail-stabs strike home. Pieces of wood shower about, though, as the hatch cover is damaged.

Draego gets a javelin into one of them, a minor wound but ichor sprays onto the deck.

Saker's bolt misses by a mile as the rapiers swoop in, but luckily there's still some fight in the group.... and in the rapiers that were up near the bow, who start gliding toward the archers at the mid hatch.

((Garrin and Rustin, take your attacks for this round. And you can all take your actions for the next round, which should be the last one, as that's all the time Orgin needs to get this tub turned. Garrin, no need to take the -4 penalty for firing into melee on your first round because we'll say you fired before they reached the obs deck. Garin + Saker, second round they are in melee.))

[Psionic Dog]

Saker

"Why is it that everything I do is either raw boredom or pure terror?" he asks himself (and his nephew) while snatching up his spear to attempt to fend off an attacking rapier.

Spoiler

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[role=attack]1d20+2[/roll] Damage - (1d8+1)[9]
Crit Check - (1d20+1)[3]
Doesn't everyone love Quick Draw

[Psionic Dog]

Spoiler

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Humph. Bad Typo.
attack - (1d20+2)[14]

[Ghal Marak]

Spoiler

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I forgot to cast that protection spell before they charged off. Oh well.

[Duke of URL]

Garrin

Garrin tries to contribute something useful, praying that his crossbow bolt finds something other than a member of the crew, or a vital part of the Planet Express.

Spoiler

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Full-Round: Attack - (1d20-1)[16] (includes -4 for firing into melee), Damage - (1d10)[6]
Next round: Reload

[Another_Poet]

Chaos grips the topside as the rapiers close in. Some of the family and crew find themselves so pressed by the beasts that they can't even go on the offense. The hatch on the observation deck protects Orgin and company through another round of battering, but looks about ready to fall to pieces as a final rapier lifts its tail--and is neatly finished off by Garrin's bolt and Saker's spear.

Its corpse falls to the deck, just as Orgin turns the boat and yells, "That's it! Get down!"

((Combat over, and nicely done. This might very well put you all at Level Up time - if not you'e very close. I'll dole out XP today or tomorrow, for this and your previous ventures.))

The yawl begins to drift away from the trade route and, by extension, the cedar swamps. As the party retires inside of their wooden stronghold, the pummeling on the hull grows less frequent and eventually disappears. The hatch to the obs deck is fractured and weak but luckily still conceals the opening well enough that none of the rapier try to enter, and within twenty long minutes you will find yourselves surrounded by no sound but the whistling of the wind through cracks in the wall.

[Ghal Marak]

Venistara

Venistara sighed. "We should probably stop the Yawl now so we can reorient."

[Duke of URL]

Garrin

Thank the gods for guiding my bolt! Garrin is torn between relief at getting out of the mess, elation at hitting the mark, and anger at himself for not being better prepared. "Good idea. Let's also make sure everything is safe and stowed back properly before continuing." Looking at the hatch, he continues, "can this be fixed?"

[Psionic Dog]

Saker

"Stop?" The uncle asks as he stares up at the tattered aft hatch. "Lets' just get the Professor topside again and parallel the river: We don't want to get left behind and we certainly don't want to fly through that again! I'm just glad our only casualty was just the hatch and not... Venistra! How's your arm?"

[Ghal Marak]

Venistara

Venistara was taken off guard by the swift change in topic, but smiled anyway. "Don't worry. My arm is fine. See?" She indicated the bloody hole in her outfit, and brushed off some of the dry blood. She winced once, but hid it behind her smile. Underneath the blood was a patch of very raw looking skin, but no gaping hole. "I already started the healing process with my magic when I retreated from the battle. It's just a little sore, and it could be re-opened if I'm not careful."

[Another_Poet]

((The hatch can certainly be fixed. Less than an hour and a 10 on a craft check will get it back to being intact. A mend spell will do it too, and since the hatch is detachable from the main yawl, noneof this risks crashing it. With a 15 on a craft check and a couple hours it can be quite sturdy.))

Orgin heads topside and gets to it. Anyone who joins him can see that you are several miles from the river, and that the other yawls are now farther ahead of you. The rapiers seem to have thinned out; bolts fly from the machines atop the Arcos One as Sean and company suppress the flock of hunters. It seems they have good aim. The Di Monci ships look shuttered tight, stoically plowing through the cloud.

Behind them and now behind you as well, you can see the wrecked yawl in the cedar bog. From this distance it is little more than a dark hump rising out of the trees. There's no way to see if anyone is left on board, or to tell how long it had been there before your caravan arrived.

[Duke of URL]

Garrin

Upon being reassured that a mending spell on the hatch would pose no danger to the integrity of the yawl, Garrin goes ahead and effects the repair. Anyone nearby may hear him muttering, "at least something I prepared today is useful..."

[Another_Poet]

The hatch becomes whole with a mere wave of the hand...

[Psionic Dog]

Saker

Relief lights up the uncles face in response to Venistra's healing. "Well thank the fates for that! That could easily have been much worse" he says gesturing to the receding wreaked yawl.


"Although I guess we ought to thank our mighty mage and skilled marksman over here for that" he says of Garrin. "Say there anything magic can't do?" He asks his magically talented nephew and niece.

[Duke of URL]

Garrin

"I imagine quite a lot," Garrin says with a grimace. "It was my crossbow, not my spells that managed to deal with that thing."

He looks around. "Is everyone alright? And how is the cargo?"

[Psionic Dog]

Saker

The uncle blinks: "But you are a skilled marksman. There is a lot more to this life than combat, such as cleaning up. I see you repairing the yawl we count on, and I see your sister repairing the flesh. If anyone is useless, it's me."

After a moment's hesitation the Uncle turns and starts to climb down to toward the hold: "I'll go check out the cargo below deck. That should be something useful even a broken man like me can do." he says.

[Another_Poet]

After repairing the door and securing the cargo, the Kites and their crew tag along after the caravan, runnuing parallel to the river. By the grace of the gods they manage to rejoin the caravan farther downstream.

Their route takes them into the warring states of Upper and Lower Maceda, a turbulent region of violent city-states and constant conflict. Their many exploits from that time on are unrecorded, but their names survive in history as the founders of a great merchant empire, adventurers and explorers each one.

Thus it is that the rich and powerful often come from humble origins, just as the downtrodden are oft descended from the mighty. So as the Fates and Fortunes spun the passing ages of time, the lesson of the Achyllean Kites went from biography to history to legend, never to be forgotten in the popular memory of Elm.

FINIT.