The last anyone saw of Cap'n Thorne, he was at the rail. As flashes of lightning split the night he could be seen frozen in a moment, feet planted wide apart on the heaving deck and long-fingered hands gripping the polished wood hard to keep him from being swept off his feet. He was screaming defiance into the storm. Everything pitched and tossed around him. The sails were shreds, the mast splintered. The Horn of Plenty was not built for this, and the fury of the sea was about to demonstrate that with a terrible finality. Thorne had gambled everything: his ship, his life, the lives of his crew, on the fulfilment of a dream. A dream of riches beyond compare. At its frustration, his fury was terrible. It was as nothing, however, compared to the maelstrom that whipped the sea into a brutal mountainous landscape and drove the Horn before it like a child with a paper boat.
All around, crew members fought to stay aboard although they were likely doomed either way. Bodies swept across the deck and over the scuppers before anyone could react to stop them. Once in the embrace of the sea there was no hope for them. Others clung to lines and prayed hard to whatever gods they believed in to deliver them from this ordeal. No-one saw the rocks coming in the darkness. They only heard the crunch and felt the shuddering jolt as they bit into the Horn's wooden hull. Another body was pitched overboard, lacking the strength to cling on to life after an hour or more of this chaos. The ship quickly broke up, spewing her cargo and remaining crew into the heaving blackness below.
With the dawn comes the eerie calm that often follows such violence. The contrast makes it seem utterly serene, as if time itself has slowed. The fresh light of a new day reveals what is left of the doomed ship. Three of her crew lie unconscious or exhausted on the white sands, whilst two more cling to spars floating just off shore. They have been in the water for several hours and the sight of land makes their hearts leap with a hope they hadn't dared to nurture. Around them splintered planks, crates, and other detritus bob lazily on the breakers that caress the beach. The shattered stern section of the Horn lies at the other end of a crescent-shaped beach crowned by formations of jagged black rocks at either end. The open part of the hull gapes gormlessly while the whole thing rocks ever so slightly with the motion of the waves.
The island itself is fairly typical of the area, which is unlikely to help in identifying where exactly it is. White sands are fringed by palm trees, whilst further inland the land rises into gentle hills covered in thick verdant jungle seemingly untouched by any sort of civilisation. Here and there dark, vine-covered cliffs slash the green blanket like the claws of a jaguar.
As the warmth of the sun and the merest hint of a breeze breathe life into the still forms on the beach, the only sounds are the gentle lapping of the waves and the calls of birds in the trees. Perhaps they are wondering at these strange creatures who have appeared in their kingdom. William, Thea, and Seri have been washed up on the beach (a familiar feeling for Seri). Kairouani and Alessio are clinging to the same wooden spar floating a little way out from the beach.
FYI, this is the part of the world that you are in. Where exactly you are within it remains to be discovered!
Did you think, little one, the ocean god's whisper thundered in Seri's skull amidst the crashing storm, seeming both intimate and inexorable, perhaps even mirthful. Did you think serving me here in my domain would sit lighter upon your shoulders than it did in your cozy temple? You belong here with me.
Holding tight to the mast amidst the ferocity of the gale, Seri's eyes had gone wide, and her lips parted in wonder and thrill. She had witnessed storms upon the Dragonfly, equipped far better than The Horn of Plenty to endure Trondro's ferocity, and often navigated a course to skirt or run ahead of the perils of weather. But never had she beheld the God of the Seas in all His wonder as she did now. Not angry, she thought with certainty. At play.
She wanted to exult, howl in ecstasy like a jellyfish-stung mermaid, leap over the rail and dive to the depths. For unlike her crewmates, she could breathe down there, half a hundred fathoms below where the typhoon was no more the firm undulation and deep current. But then she would not be here, in this moment, to witness Trondro's glory, vast and wild. To hear His Voice for the first time. And she sensed, possibly the last. Truly, I am blessed.
Seri was not blind or callous to the panic and death of her crew around her, though there was next to nothing she could do now. Cap'n Thorne had jealously guarded the navigation of The Horn from his own sea-elven navigator, and she had been left to piece together her own idea of their course and to lamely offer half-hearted suggestions. Until the storm struck, of course, and all navigational suggestions became moot.
Yes, my Lord of Ocean. I belong here with You. Always.
Seri had looked up then to the skies, her last thoughts emerging in joy and exaltation. Just as she witnessed a blinding bolt of lightning wider than a whale strike the mast she clung to, splitting it as a shark does a herring.
All had gone dark then, until... Seri wakes to feel sand beneath her cheek. As she had decades ago when she had first washed up on the outermost Windward Isle. Before the Olona had taken her in. Only now she hears another voice. Not Olona. A-... Aseri perhaps? A young woman like her. Thea.
Seri sits slowly up. She reaches for Trondro's glory once more and finds she cannot grasp it as she had during the storm, but she does sense his distant ever-presence, as ever when near the ocean. Seeking His guidance, she thinks about the one question from Thea she is trained to answer.
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Kairouani came to conciousness and immediately regretted it, her body was battered and bruised and she didn't remember clambering onto this piece of wood, her eyes shot open and she looked around...her savings.....at the bottom of the ocean now.....she must needs start again....a wave smacked her in the face and she spluttered and sat up, losing her grip on the wreckage and falling into the water.
She surfaced again moments later very much awake and struck out towards the shore not too far away, crawling ashore she saw other figures moving there.
It was the navigator, Seri and....Thea?....she allowed herself a slight smile despite the situation.
There were other bodies, not moving, looking back out to sea you saw a man draped over the same piece of wreckage she had just come from and another further along the beach...
" Just us three or is that one alive? "
She turned back towards the ocean and grimaced, " Someone want to help drag that ashore?"
Alessio just woke up, He looked around at everyone and seemed to scowl. Maybe it was a better idea to stay at port. He looked around on the debris and then to the island. Perfect he thought. Slowly trying to swim ashore to get some sort of solid land beneath his feet.
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William groaned. His head was pounding and his body was hurting all over. As consciousness slowly seeped back in, something inside his lungs wanted out. He turned on his side and vomited out foul smeling-seawater. About half a mug from the looks of it William noted. He rubbed his eyes to focus. The vague contours of a broken ship gently rocking onto the beach became sharper. It was the Horn of Plenty. At least what remained of it.
William tried to recall the last thing he could remember. There was a storm, more violent than anticipated. The ship was not build to withstand a storm of that magnitude. He had wanted to address the issue with the captain but Thorne would hear nothing of it. An early sign of his obsession William should have noticed. When the captain actually howled back at the storm William knew the end was nigh. He ran back into the bowels of the ship. First the galley, then the sick bay, then his cabin. If he wanted to have a shot at surviving this far in unknown territory, William would need his tools. The ship groaned. The wooden planks and beams were being stretched to their limit. In various spots the wood had already began fracturing. When William exited his quarters, the inevitable happened. A loud croak echoed through the ship. A shower of splinters was the only warning William got. The support beam next to him snapped. Something hard and wet smacked him in the back of his head. And then... Darkness.
He was holding something. William's hand had cramped into a death grip on what he recognised as his backpack. It was waterlogged but serviceable and nothing that the warmth of the sun could not dry. The remains of the ship could be scavenged. For the moment he was just glad to have survived the entire ordeal.
" Just us three or is that one alive? "
William sat up with great effort. 'I'm alive.'He was surprised at how matter-of-fact he mentioned that. He looked around. There were three others on the beach, four if you counted the one clutching some flotsam. 'Guess we are the lucky ones.'
He patted himself down. So far it seemed he was okay, aside from the bruises and headache. Most of his stuff was wet but fine. His rapier and dagger would rust but that was the least of his worries right now. He was more saddened when his personal journal fell apart in a mess of runny ink and mushy paper.
'How is everyone?' He asked, his profession as ship doctor compelling him to make a check of the crew.
Alessio was fine, He had some minor injury's but he was fine. Fine enough I would suppose. He looked at his soggy clothes and beard and grimaced. He hated getting his Beard wet. He looked around at everyone and sighed. At least everyone is alive?
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Seri's connection with the sea and navigational skill has enabled her to estimate where this island might be. Your voyage began on the island of Carina (that's the Verdian name for it), and your course took you North for the better part of a month. Without taking speed readings, Seri knows the ship, the winds and the currents well enough to know that the Horn must have covered just shy of 2,000 miles before meeting her demise.
William has seen maps and charts of the region, prepared in good faith to the best of the ability of the earliest Aseri and Verdian cartographers to navigate the Islands. These are invariably incomplete and almost certainly inaccurate, but he would picture something like the below. Seri's estimate of distance travelled would place you somewhere in or near the white box (which is approximately 400 by 200 miles).
How is everyone?' He asked, his profession as ship doctor compelling him to make a check of the crew.
"My head hurts. other than that, I'm jollier than a pipe-nosed dodo." Thea stands, brushing the sand off of her. She flips her head, her long strawberry blonde hair spraying sea water. something about the way her hair glints in the morning sun, glistening with water, is mesmerizing.
"Swallowed way too much water and have bruises on my bruises but all well. We need to find fresh water and a place to rest out of the sun fairly soon."
Seri stands. She wades back into the ocean, waist deep and stretches, gazing out over the azure waters in a long moment of meditation.
Turning upon hearing Kairouani's observation about needing fresh water, she pauses a moment, thinking of how to articulate what the others would be unlikely to believe. They were there. Couldn't they see? Within the maelstrom of oceanic chaos and death, how the sublime grace of Trondro manifested.
"The need for fresh water will not trouble us. Something... something happened out there. I do not mean the storm, losing our ship and all souls upon it, including that mad Cap'n Thorne and most of our crew save the five of us, though thankfully not all our gear." (Seri pats her own temple-issued water-safe pack with her gear, thankfully still strapped cross-wise to her back, along with her driftwood shield, armor and weapons).
"I mean something else happened. I... I cannot describe it in words you will believe. Yet I carry the tiniest rivulet of Trondro's wild grace with me now."
She reaches into her pack and removes her waterskin and swiftly drinks the remaining contents, then dips it into the salt water of the lagoon, filling it once more. "Several minutes of prayer, and I can transform this and any other water nearby, whether salty or muddy, into clean, pure water we can drink. Food too, dirty or poisoned, I will purify. I have seen it done at the temple, back with the Olona, but now I see... I perceive the divine magic of it."
Seri subconsciously leaves the waterskin floating in the turquoise water, seemingly forgotten, yet something (invisibleMage Hand from her Telekinetic feat) brings it bobbing and swirling behind, as if borne by the natural flow of waves in the bay straight towards her. Right into the distracted sea elf's hand.
"I do have my Healer's Kit, still sealed, thank Trondro. If any of you are injured, I can help William bandage you up or apply a mild salve as we did at the temple. Also William - I think I know roughly how far we sailed from Carina and on what bearing, though the Cap'n would never allow me to perform my task as navigator. I think between us, we may be able to work out our rough location and orient ourselves. Not that we need it yet, but we may."
Kairouani nodded respectfully in the shamans direction, she had had little opportunity to travel with one of the god-touched before.....it seemed they had talents beyond reading portents and healing wounds.
" I am shamed to admit I do not know these shores and am unable to read the water and earth well enough to know where we are except to say I am fair certain I have not trod this island before."
" Ocean Caller Seri? Can the gods provide us warmth and shelter as well or should I work upon those needs?"
As Kairouani addresses her, Seri suddenly looks sheepish, with a touch of impostor syndrome, suddenly not feeling worthy of the inner islander's respect.
"Oh no, Kairouani, I... I can only channel Trondro's grace for a few things, having but a drop of His deeps within me. It is just that purifying water and food is one of the few things I can do. I will help you with the shelter and a fire pit as soon as I assist William with seeing to anyone's wounds."
The sea elf does shyly touch Kairouani's arm, passing Trondro'sguidance to the ranger. (+1d4 on next ability check).
(If Survival to set up shelter, Seri will also help her for advantage, being proficient in Survival as all islanders are.)
"Well, I'm no survival expert, but what if this island is dangerous? you think their could be wild beasts? or monsters?" Thea looks around nervously, then shakes her head, regaining her confidence. "I guess I could scout the island. see what I can find. otherwise I'm not much use here."
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Hi, I'm Raccoon_Master,The Rocket Raccoon/Trashcan Tactician (as appointed by Drummer). Pronouns They/Them/Theirs.
My Characters: Brorminthe Crusher; Discoverythe Keeper; Theathe Scoundrel; Jorvirthe Weaver; Threlan,the Speaker; Zolyathe Inspired; Penley the Devourer;
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Kairouni only had her small items on her but looking around at the vegetation she would be able to make most of what she needed fairly easily given some time.
" Don't go off alone.", said Kairouni seriously to Thea. " Help with clearing scrub for a shelter."
She headed up above the hightide line to the edge of the vegetation looking for a larger tree that would serve as a base for constructing a rainproof and wind breaking shelter.
William gave everyone a quick check. Luckily there were only bruises and minor scarring. If anyone had sustained serious injuries, he did not know if he could help at this time in this place.
'If we can get some wood, I can make us some rudimentary shelter.'He added to the group discussion. He poked his wet bag with his toe. 'Well, after my tools have gotten a chance to dry.'
He looked from the wreckage of the ship to the tree line and back. 'Sitting here on the shore won't do us any good. I suggest we gather what we can, rest here on the beach, and tomorrow make our way inland. Might as well explore where we are 'cause I got a feeling they aren't going to be sending out much rescue ships our way.'
Thea shrugs, then begins clearing shrubs? it is totally clear she does not know what to do.
William shaked his head upon seeing Thea's busywork. 'Come with me, girlie: we'll go check the ship remains for anything usefull. You check the ship's stern washed ashore over there, I'll be checking those crates and barrels in the water.'
He signalled Alessio. 'Could you give me a hand pulling the heavier stuff onto shore?'
Whilst Kairouani finds that she's all thumbs and can't quite seem to make the materials do what she intends, Thea finds that the principles of shelter-building come naturally to her once she's pointed in the right direction. With Kairouani's supervision, the women soon have a passable shelter constructed on the edge of the forest, which has space for five at a squeeze and will keep the worst of the tropical rains off if required. The weather at the moment though is warm and balmy, promising to get quite hot soon as the sun climbs higher in the cloudless blue of the sky.
Can I have investigation checks for anyone who wants to search the ships or the boxes and barrels please. And tell me where you're looking!
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The last anyone saw of Cap'n Thorne, he was at the rail. As flashes of lightning split the night he could be seen frozen in a moment, feet planted wide apart on the heaving deck and long-fingered hands gripping the polished wood hard to keep him from being swept off his feet. He was screaming defiance into the storm. Everything pitched and tossed around him. The sails were shreds, the mast splintered. The Horn of Plenty was not built for this, and the fury of the sea was about to demonstrate that with a terrible finality. Thorne had gambled everything: his ship, his life, the lives of his crew, on the fulfilment of a dream. A dream of riches beyond compare. At its frustration, his fury was terrible. It was as nothing, however, compared to the maelstrom that whipped the sea into a brutal mountainous landscape and drove the Horn before it like a child with a paper boat.
All around, crew members fought to stay aboard although they were likely doomed either way. Bodies swept across the deck and over the scuppers before anyone could react to stop them. Once in the embrace of the sea there was no hope for them. Others clung to lines and prayed hard to whatever gods they believed in to deliver them from this ordeal. No-one saw the rocks coming in the darkness. They only heard the crunch and felt the shuddering jolt as they bit into the Horn's wooden hull. Another body was pitched overboard, lacking the strength to cling on to life after an hour or more of this chaos. The ship quickly broke up, spewing her cargo and remaining crew into the heaving blackness below.
With the dawn comes the eerie calm that often follows such violence. The contrast makes it seem utterly serene, as if time itself has slowed. The fresh light of a new day reveals what is left of the doomed ship. Three of her crew lie unconscious or exhausted on the white sands, whilst two more cling to spars floating just off shore. They have been in the water for several hours and the sight of land makes their hearts leap with a hope they hadn't dared to nurture. Around them splintered planks, crates, and other detritus bob lazily on the breakers that caress the beach. The shattered stern section of the Horn lies at the other end of a crescent-shaped beach crowned by formations of jagged black rocks at either end. The open part of the hull gapes gormlessly while the whole thing rocks ever so slightly with the motion of the waves.
The island itself is fairly typical of the area, which is unlikely to help in identifying where exactly it is. White sands are fringed by palm trees, whilst further inland the land rises into gentle hills covered in thick verdant jungle seemingly untouched by any sort of civilisation. Here and there dark, vine-covered cliffs slash the green blanket like the claws of a jaguar.
As the warmth of the sun and the merest hint of a breeze breathe life into the still forms on the beach, the only sounds are the gentle lapping of the waves and the calls of birds in the trees. Perhaps they are wondering at these strange creatures who have appeared in their kingdom. William, Thea, and Seri have been washed up on the beach (a familiar feeling for Seri). Kairouani and Alessio are clinging to the same wooden spar floating a little way out from the beach.
FYI, this is the part of the world that you are in. Where exactly you are within it remains to be discovered!
Your immediate situation looks something like this:
Thea wakes up, having been knocked out by a falling piece of debris. her head throbbing, she sits up,
"Well damnit, that hurt." Thea looks around. "what the... where are we? what happened?"
Survival: 4
Hi, I'm Raccoon_Master, The Rocket Raccoon/Trashcan Tactician (as appointed by Drummer). Pronouns They/Them/Theirs.
My Characters: Brormin the Crusher; Discovery the Keeper; Thea the Scoundrel; Jorvir the Weaver; Threlan, the Speaker; Zolya the Inspired; Penley the Devourer;
DMing: Dark God's Dread; Raccoon's Strixhaven, Dungeon of The Dead Mage
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EXTENDED SIGNATUR
Did you think, little one, the ocean god's whisper thundered in Seri's skull amidst the crashing storm, seeming both intimate and inexorable, perhaps even mirthful. Did you think serving me here in my domain would sit lighter upon your shoulders than it did in your cozy temple? You belong here with me.
Holding tight to the mast amidst the ferocity of the gale, Seri's eyes had gone wide, and her lips parted in wonder and thrill. She had witnessed storms upon the Dragonfly, equipped far better than The Horn of Plenty to endure Trondro's ferocity, and often navigated a course to skirt or run ahead of the perils of weather. But never had she beheld the God of the Seas in all His wonder as she did now. Not angry, she thought with certainty. At play.
She wanted to exult, howl in ecstasy like a jellyfish-stung mermaid, leap over the rail and dive to the depths. For unlike her crewmates, she could breathe down there, half a hundred fathoms below where the typhoon was no more the firm undulation and deep current. But then she would not be here, in this moment, to witness Trondro's glory, vast and wild. To hear His Voice for the first time. And she sensed, possibly the last. Truly, I am blessed.
Seri was not blind or callous to the panic and death of her crew around her, though there was next to nothing she could do now. Cap'n Thorne had jealously guarded the navigation of The Horn from his own sea-elven navigator, and she had been left to piece together her own idea of their course and to lamely offer half-hearted suggestions. Until the storm struck, of course, and all navigational suggestions became moot.
Yes, my Lord of Ocean. I belong here with You. Always.
Seri had looked up then to the skies, her last thoughts emerging in joy and exaltation. Just as she witnessed a blinding bolt of lightning wider than a whale strike the mast she clung to, splitting it as a shark does a herring.
All had gone dark then, until... Seri wakes to feel sand beneath her cheek. As she had decades ago when she had first washed up on the outermost Windward Isle. Before the Olona had taken her in. Only now she hears another voice. Not Olona. A-... Aseri perhaps? A young woman like her. Thea.
Seri sits slowly up. She reaches for Trondro's glory once more and finds she cannot grasp it as she had during the storm, but she does sense his distant ever-presence, as ever when near the ocean. Seeking His guidance, she thinks about the one question from Thea she is trained to answer.
Where are we?
Seri Survival plus Guidance: 22 + 4 = 26
Mud(Paladin2):Frandal's Scourge/Inge(Barbarian1):Krayveneer's After the Fall/Seri(Cleric1/Sorcerer1):Uhtred's Windward Isles/Shin(Wizard2):Dimir_MTG's Surviving
Dyson/Eleo(Cleric3):Vos' Beyond the Veil/Soren(Druid4):Bartjeebus' Ravenloft/Nivi(Rogue3):Raiketsu's CoS/Lyra(Warlock2/Bard2):BlameItOnWinter's Will of the Ancients
Joren(Fighter5):NotDrizzt's Simple Request/Quyen(Adept1):Constance's Nentir Vale/Rel(Warlock2):Uhtred's Phandelver/Xarian(Fighter1/Wizard1):ShieldHero's Drakkenheim
Kairouani came to conciousness and immediately regretted it, her body was battered and bruised and she didn't remember clambering onto this piece of wood, her eyes shot open and she looked around...her savings.....at the bottom of the ocean now.....she must needs start again....a wave smacked her in the face and she spluttered and sat up, losing her grip on the wreckage and falling into the water.
She surfaced again moments later very much awake and struck out towards the shore not too far away, crawling ashore she saw other figures moving there.
It was the navigator, Seri and....Thea?....she allowed herself a slight smile despite the situation.
There were other bodies, not moving, looking back out to sea you saw a man draped over the same piece of wreckage she had just come from and another further along the beach...
" Just us three or is that one alive? "
She turned back towards the ocean and grimaced, " Someone want to help drag that ashore?"
Survival- 13
Alessio just woke up, He looked around at everyone and seemed to scowl. Maybe it was a better idea to stay at port. He looked around on the debris and then to the island. Perfect he thought. Slowly trying to swim ashore to get some sort of solid land beneath his feet.
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William groaned. His head was pounding and his body was hurting all over. As consciousness slowly seeped back in, something inside his lungs wanted out. He turned on his side and vomited out foul smeling-seawater. About half a mug from the looks of it William noted. He rubbed his eyes to focus. The vague contours of a broken ship gently rocking onto the beach became sharper. It was the Horn of Plenty. At least what remained of it.
William tried to recall the last thing he could remember. There was a storm, more violent than anticipated. The ship was not build to withstand a storm of that magnitude. He had wanted to address the issue with the captain but Thorne would hear nothing of it. An early sign of his obsession William should have noticed. When the captain actually howled back at the storm William knew the end was nigh. He ran back into the bowels of the ship. First the galley, then the sick bay, then his cabin. If he wanted to have a shot at surviving this far in unknown territory, William would need his tools. The ship groaned. The wooden planks and beams were being stretched to their limit. In various spots the wood had already began fracturing. When William exited his quarters, the inevitable happened. A loud croak echoed through the ship. A shower of splinters was the only warning William got. The support beam next to him snapped. Something hard and wet smacked him in the back of his head. And then... Darkness.
He was holding something. William's hand had cramped into a death grip on what he recognised as his backpack. It was waterlogged but serviceable and nothing that the warmth of the sun could not dry. The remains of the ship could be scavenged. For the moment he was just glad to have survived the entire ordeal.
William sat up with great effort. 'I'm alive.' He was surprised at how matter-of-fact he mentioned that. He looked around. There were three others on the beach, four if you counted the one clutching some flotsam. 'Guess we are the lucky ones.'
He patted himself down. So far it seemed he was okay, aside from the bruises and headache. Most of his stuff was wet but fine. His rapier and dagger would rust but that was the least of his worries right now. He was more saddened when his personal journal fell apart in a mess of runny ink and mushy paper.
'How is everyone?' He asked, his profession as ship doctor compelling him to make a check of the crew.
Survival 17 (campaign log)
William Brackwater: Human Fighter - The Windward Isles
Alessio was fine, He had some minor injury's but he was fine. Fine enough I would suppose. He looked at his soggy clothes and beard and grimaced. He hated getting his Beard wet. He looked around at everyone and sighed. At least everyone is alive?
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Seri's connection with the sea and navigational skill has enabled her to estimate where this island might be. Your voyage began on the island of Carina (that's the Verdian name for it), and your course took you North for the better part of a month. Without taking speed readings, Seri knows the ship, the winds and the currents well enough to know that the Horn must have covered just shy of 2,000 miles before meeting her demise.
William has seen maps and charts of the region, prepared in good faith to the best of the ability of the earliest Aseri and Verdian cartographers to navigate the Islands. These are invariably incomplete and almost certainly inaccurate, but he would picture something like the below. Seri's estimate of distance travelled would place you somewhere in or near the white box (which is approximately 400 by 200 miles).
"My head hurts. other than that, I'm jollier than a pipe-nosed dodo." Thea stands, brushing the sand off of her. She flips her head, her long strawberry blonde hair spraying sea water. something about the way her hair glints in the morning sun, glistening with water, is mesmerizing.
Hi, I'm Raccoon_Master, The Rocket Raccoon/Trashcan Tactician (as appointed by Drummer). Pronouns They/Them/Theirs.
My Characters: Brormin the Crusher; Discovery the Keeper; Thea the Scoundrel; Jorvir the Weaver; Threlan, the Speaker; Zolya the Inspired; Penley the Devourer;
DMing: Dark God's Dread; Raccoon's Strixhaven, Dungeon of The Dead Mage
Join the Anything but the OGL 2.0 Thread!
EXTENDED SIGNATUR
"Swallowed way too much water and have bruises on my bruises but all well. We need to find fresh water and a place to rest out of the sun fairly soon."
Seri stands. She wades back into the ocean, waist deep and stretches, gazing out over the azure waters in a long moment of meditation.
Turning upon hearing Kairouani's observation about needing fresh water, she pauses a moment, thinking of how to articulate what the others would be unlikely to believe. They were there. Couldn't they see? Within the maelstrom of oceanic chaos and death, how the sublime grace of Trondro manifested.
"The need for fresh water will not trouble us. Something... something happened out there. I do not mean the storm, losing our ship and all souls upon it, including that mad Cap'n Thorne and most of our crew save the five of us, though thankfully not all our gear." (Seri pats her own temple-issued water-safe pack with her gear, thankfully still strapped cross-wise to her back, along with her driftwood shield, armor and weapons).
"I mean something else happened. I... I cannot describe it in words you will believe. Yet I carry the tiniest rivulet of Trondro's wild grace with me now."
She reaches into her pack and removes her waterskin and swiftly drinks the remaining contents, then dips it into the salt water of the lagoon, filling it once more. "Several minutes of prayer, and I can transform this and any other water nearby, whether salty or muddy, into clean, pure water we can drink. Food too, dirty or poisoned, I will purify. I have seen it done at the temple, back with the Olona, but now I see... I perceive the divine magic of it."
Seri subconsciously leaves the waterskin floating in the turquoise water, seemingly forgotten, yet something (invisible Mage Hand from her Telekinetic feat) brings it bobbing and swirling behind, as if borne by the natural flow of waves in the bay straight towards her. Right into the distracted sea elf's hand.
"I do have my Healer's Kit, still sealed, thank Trondro. If any of you are injured, I can help William bandage you up or apply a mild salve as we did at the temple. Also William - I think I know roughly how far we sailed from Carina and on what bearing, though the Cap'n would never allow me to perform my task as navigator. I think between us, we may be able to work out our rough location and orient ourselves. Not that we need it yet, but we may."
Mud(Paladin2):Frandal's Scourge/Inge(Barbarian1):Krayveneer's After the Fall/Seri(Cleric1/Sorcerer1):Uhtred's Windward Isles/Shin(Wizard2):Dimir_MTG's Surviving
Dyson/Eleo(Cleric3):Vos' Beyond the Veil/Soren(Druid4):Bartjeebus' Ravenloft/Nivi(Rogue3):Raiketsu's CoS/Lyra(Warlock2/Bard2):BlameItOnWinter's Will of the Ancients
Joren(Fighter5):NotDrizzt's Simple Request/Quyen(Adept1):Constance's Nentir Vale/Rel(Warlock2):Uhtred's Phandelver/Xarian(Fighter1/Wizard1):ShieldHero's Drakkenheim
Kairouani nodded respectfully in the shamans direction, she had had little opportunity to travel with one of the god-touched before.....it seemed they had talents beyond reading portents and healing wounds.
" I am shamed to admit I do not know these shores and am unable to read the water and earth well enough to know where we are except to say I am fair certain I have not trod this island before."
" Ocean Caller Seri? Can the gods provide us warmth and shelter as well or should I work upon those needs?"
As Kairouani addresses her, Seri suddenly looks sheepish, with a touch of impostor syndrome, suddenly not feeling worthy of the inner islander's respect.
"Oh no, Kairouani, I... I can only channel Trondro's grace for a few things, having but a drop of His deeps within me. It is just that purifying water and food is one of the few things I can do. I will help you with the shelter and a fire pit as soon as I assist William with seeing to anyone's wounds."
The sea elf does shyly touch Kairouani's arm, passing Trondro's guidance to the ranger. (+1d4 on next ability check).
(If Survival to set up shelter, Seri will also help her for advantage, being proficient in Survival as all islanders are.)
Mud(Paladin2):Frandal's Scourge/Inge(Barbarian1):Krayveneer's After the Fall/Seri(Cleric1/Sorcerer1):Uhtred's Windward Isles/Shin(Wizard2):Dimir_MTG's Surviving
Dyson/Eleo(Cleric3):Vos' Beyond the Veil/Soren(Druid4):Bartjeebus' Ravenloft/Nivi(Rogue3):Raiketsu's CoS/Lyra(Warlock2/Bard2):BlameItOnWinter's Will of the Ancients
Joren(Fighter5):NotDrizzt's Simple Request/Quyen(Adept1):Constance's Nentir Vale/Rel(Warlock2):Uhtred's Phandelver/Xarian(Fighter1/Wizard1):ShieldHero's Drakkenheim
"Well, I'm no survival expert, but what if this island is dangerous? you think their could be wild beasts? or monsters?" Thea looks around nervously, then shakes her head, regaining her confidence. "I guess I could scout the island. see what I can find. otherwise I'm not much use here."
Hi, I'm Raccoon_Master, The Rocket Raccoon/Trashcan Tactician (as appointed by Drummer). Pronouns They/Them/Theirs.
My Characters: Brormin the Crusher; Discovery the Keeper; Thea the Scoundrel; Jorvir the Weaver; Threlan, the Speaker; Zolya the Inspired; Penley the Devourer;
DMing: Dark God's Dread; Raccoon's Strixhaven, Dungeon of The Dead Mage
Join the Anything but the OGL 2.0 Thread!
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Kairouni only had her small items on her but looking around at the vegetation she would be able to make most of what she needed fairly easily given some time.
" Don't go off alone.", said Kairouni seriously to Thea. " Help with clearing scrub for a shelter."
She headed up above the hightide line to the edge of the vegetation looking for a larger tree that would serve as a base for constructing a rainproof and wind breaking shelter.
Survival- 16 + 1
Thea shrugs, then begins clearing shrubs? it is totally clear she does not know what to do.
Survival (OOC: wouldn't it be funny if I got a really good role?) 14
Hi, I'm Raccoon_Master, The Rocket Raccoon/Trashcan Tactician (as appointed by Drummer). Pronouns They/Them/Theirs.
My Characters: Brormin the Crusher; Discovery the Keeper; Thea the Scoundrel; Jorvir the Weaver; Threlan, the Speaker; Zolya the Inspired; Penley the Devourer;
DMing: Dark God's Dread; Raccoon's Strixhaven, Dungeon of The Dead Mage
Join the Anything but the OGL 2.0 Thread!
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OOC: stupid dice roller. lets try this again:
Survival: 22
Hi, I'm Raccoon_Master, The Rocket Raccoon/Trashcan Tactician (as appointed by Drummer). Pronouns They/Them/Theirs.
My Characters: Brormin the Crusher; Discovery the Keeper; Thea the Scoundrel; Jorvir the Weaver; Threlan, the Speaker; Zolya the Inspired; Penley the Devourer;
DMing: Dark God's Dread; Raccoon's Strixhaven, Dungeon of The Dead Mage
Join the Anything but the OGL 2.0 Thread!
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William gave everyone a quick check. Luckily there were only bruises and minor scarring. If anyone had sustained serious injuries, he did not know if he could help at this time in this place.
'If we can get some wood, I can make us some rudimentary shelter.' He added to the group discussion. He poked his wet bag with his toe. 'Well, after my tools have gotten a chance to dry.'
He looked from the wreckage of the ship to the tree line and back. 'Sitting here on the shore won't do us any good. I suggest we gather what we can, rest here on the beach, and tomorrow make our way inland. Might as well explore where we are 'cause I got a feeling they aren't going to be sending out much rescue ships our way.'
William shaked his head upon seeing Thea's busywork. 'Come with me, girlie: we'll go check the ship remains for anything usefull. You check the ship's stern washed ashore over there, I'll be checking those crates and barrels in the water.'
He signalled Alessio. 'Could you give me a hand pulling the heavier stuff onto shore?'
William Brackwater: Human Fighter - The Windward Isles
Whilst Kairouani finds that she's all thumbs and can't quite seem to make the materials do what she intends, Thea finds that the principles of shelter-building come naturally to her once she's pointed in the right direction. With Kairouani's supervision, the women soon have a passable shelter constructed on the edge of the forest, which has space for five at a squeeze and will keep the worst of the tropical rains off if required. The weather at the moment though is warm and balmy, promising to get quite hot soon as the sun climbs higher in the cloudless blue of the sky.
Can I have investigation checks for anyone who wants to search the ships or the boxes and barrels please. And tell me where you're looking!