"One... LOOSE!" The boatswain calls. A treasure trove of gold, trinkets, and valuables pour off of the edge of the ship, glimmering in the early evening light; tens of thousands of gold pieces falling down for the dragon turtle to accept as tribute.
"Quick, close it off!" The shipwright brings out a wand, pushing a beam of wood into the hole as a temporary bung into the repairs are ready. "It just needs to hold. If the dragon turtle's here, Prospain won't be too far, now heave!" There is a groan from the remaining workers as the final spells are used to fix the holes long enough for the remainder of the trip.
Chapter 1: Perils in Prospain
An hour after the dragon turtle's departure the damage report is finally completed. The ship's engines were unharmed, so travelling was not impeded. However, the hull of The Dutchess would need serious attention when docked. Many folk are still left terrified of the ordeal; a legendarily powerful creature of the seas nearly sunk them and the hundreds of other refugees with them, but they have survived another day.
Shortly afterwards, a lookout calls that land is on the horizon, The Dutchess should hopefully reach dock by nightfall. The sombre mood suddenly has a resurgence of hope, the destination finally inbound. Many people on the ship begin collecting their belongings, ready to escape their weeks of being on a rocking boat. During that time, two more boats approach, contacting the captain. The contact coming aboard is an unusually tall elf with dark red skin and white hair, whom immediately gets into deep discussions with the ship's leaders.
The rest of the refugees, including the party, are instructed to wait below deck. There are some awkward moments of contemplation, as one trial moves onto another. Eventually a representative of the ship's crew arrives on the deck. "Everyone, collect your belongings. You will disembark in thirty minutes, where you will be led in groups of ten to temporary sheltering." There are excited cheers of joy as the folk on the deck rush to make sure nothing of theirs is left behind, a few small groups arguing over some shared belongings.
(You may use this time to benefit from a short rest. A couple of you took damage, so feel free to spend Hit Dice in order to recover from those nasty concussions.)
Ace is smashed around by the water, buffeted and partially dented by some of the flying debris of the ship. After the chaos has subsided the Warforged takes the time to flip out the tinker tools which were integrated into his arm and ready his smith's tools. Being as gentle as he can in a reflective surface Ace sets about gently fixing his frame's structural damage, wishing it were that easy to wash away how useless he had felt on the ship amidst the chaotic happenings. After fixing what of himself he could and looking over the damage, he stows his tools, seeking out the others he had been bunked with "How are you all faring?"
Hit Dice (Gonna just roll 2 and keep the result even if I'm not back to full): 97
Smokey returns to the group during this time, looking exhausted. "Hey..." He says wearily. "Guess we're finally getting there. Wish we'd just had our sleep shift instead." He yawns. "So... groups of ten. Hope the rooms are a little bigger than the one on here." He chuckles slightly. "I wonder what's gonna happen next. Like, are we gonna have to become citizens, will we go back ever, there's so many questions."
"Bigger or not don't bother me too much," Tahia says as she dismantles the simple acid trap she'd set to protect her gear. "Notice board or contact center for locating or leaving messages for whoever comes later, that wouldn't go amiss. I could do with a nap, too, but I'd rather nab one of the good rooms, you know?" She grins and winks.
Trumann walks over to Mord, and absentmindedly pulls out a healers kit. and gently pushing past his protests applies salves to the injury and re applies the bandage. he whispers quietly
"Sounds like refugee camps. I don't like it. We should stick together. And the others. Stay safe together." As he finished the bandage he looks up and mutters almost inaudibly "I have to find mother, she know where it is!"
Still a bit waterlogged from the ship's encounter with the Dragon Turtle, Tvon'ii steps lively off the gangplank of the longboat. His eyes close in a sort of personal moment of ultimate satisfaction when his foot is fully out of the water and walking on solid land again. The moment is soured as a wave washes over his feet as if to remind of its proximity. With a bit of a 'grumph' he makes his way on shore towards the general rallying area.
On the beach ahead he see's the bulk of Cabin 13-C gathering naturally. Tvon'ii walks towards the gathering group but slows and turns back towards the sea. The elf seems lost in thought for a moment and takes a step back towards the boats.
"You guys think other ships will arrive soon? Maybe we should set up some sort of watch..."
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Korvek grabs his rucksack and his greataxe. He feels a bit disturbed under the soft earth after a long while but shakes off the feeling. He shakes his head at Tvon'ii's question. "Don't think so, if anything, that dragon is enough of a safeguard. Besides, they said temporary sheltering, we'll be on the move again, locals must not have enough room to house two gutted nations." Korvek looks about the new area and to see how many refugees are there right now.
„It depends, usually Lords and Ladies want back what they have lost, even if they have to sacrifies more lifes. Farmers on the other hand try to rebuild with what they got left.“
Trumann looks down at Mord, startled by the question.
"Oh, what?...? Mother?" he makes a slight harumph noise that comes out his trunk. "Oh umm, ahhh, nothing really, we were separated during the retreat, I was just thinking out loud... I need to find her and make sure she is all right." he stammers. "That's it, sorry to bother you, we best push on,"
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Trumann Bloth | Loxodon Grave Cleric | War of the Green
Prosinet Fizzlepurtet | Gnome Wizard | The Wilcox Experiment
Seeing that everyone seems to be ok, Ace checks his gear, making sure all his ammunition is still intact and holstering his weapons, checking his shield to see if it could still be used should the need arrive.
Tvon'ii looks at the Minotaur with a furrowed brow then realizes what he thought was asked, "No no, I mean Daverro and Sarokkan ships. Allies... Maybe we can help resupply The Dutchess so she can go help guide more ships to land?"
The elf looks back out towards the horizon, hoping to glimpse more ships. Friends, family, soldiers to take the fight back to their homeland. "More than the five hundred of us made it to boats, we need to regroup so we can plan the fight to take back our homelands."
With everyone collecting their gear, they are eventually called upon to head up to top deck. Upon seeing the first glimmer of starlight in the twilight, they notice the ship has anchored offshore, the lights of several towers and a town lining a large island with tall mountains with plenty of forested coverage. People are being ferried across to the shore in long rowboats sized for about two dozen people per trip, four seats of each being taken by folk wearing green tabards with a golden crested phoenix embroidered on it.
"You lot!" The boatswain calls to the group, "You're in that one." He points over to one of the rowboats waiting at the side. "Climb down and place your belongings in the centre, when you reach the shore a guide will take you to your next location."
Headed on the rowboats, the four figures that take the party, alongside another half dozen folk from the ship over to the beaches. There is some waiting and impatient folk, a few of the people who used to be guards or soldiers attempting to keep some semblance of discipline in the refugees whilst things continue.
"Right, you lot!" Says a gruff tone. Looking over, then down, the group realises that the surprisingly bass tone comes from a gnome, garbed in a similar green tabard with golden phoenix emblazoned on its front. He wears scale armour beneath his tabard, and has a crossbow holstered over his shoulder, with a pair of short swords sheathed at the hip. "You're with this lot, come with me." He gestures for the group to follow. "Not you," He says to Smokey. "You're in a different group."
"What? But I was..." Smokey begins to protest.
"Wait here." The gnome commands Smokey, his tone with an air of a hidden threat to it. The group is led to join with three other individuals; two wood elf women and a half-elf man. "You three, you're with them. Make yourselves acquainted when we get to your accomodation, you might be living together for a while."
The half-elf man nod, "Y-y-yes, s-s-s-sir..." He stammers, the two elf women putting a hand on either shoulder before they join the group.
Following the gruff gnome into the streets, the party sees that many locals, humans, halflings, and gnomes being the most noticeable of the races amongst others, watching them with concern and intrigue. There is a series of grand towers that the group see on the high hills around the town, several glimmering beacons showing golden light that casts out into the waters. In the immediate area, the group sees they are headed through a suburban area of this port town, each building made apparently three feet or so above ground with sturdy wooden struts holding the entire structure.
"This one is yours." The gnome tells the group, leading them to a quaint two-storey building. "You will be registered tomorrow at dawn in a refugee list. For now, there is shelter and places to rest your heads. There's only four beds, but enough space to place bedrolls. The outhouses are behind this row of houses."
The building itself is a fairly standard family-sized home, with standard appliances and setup. In all, it is actually quite unremarkable. The elves walks through after the group with the half-elf, looking to the colourful group in turn.
"We should probably let you know now," One of the elves address the party. "Our son has some... requirements. It may sound selfish, but we would appreciate if there is one of the beds and rooms saved for us, my wife and I will not require beds. My name is Alana, and this is Karael, our son is Tristal." Tristal nods, fidgeting a little behind his apparent parents.
Alana is only just over five feet tall, with long silver hair and sky blue eyes. Karael is taller than Alana, with light brown hair and green eyes. Tristal is taller yet, near six feet tall, with black hair and brown eyes.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Gnoll gets close to Mord and whispers to him:
“I am not sure about Elves, but when two orcs have a child, it isn‘t a halforc...“
For the DM:
ONce we are settled in, i assume the Elfs want their privacy. I will tell Trumann i go for a walk, go outside (where noone will see me) and turn into a small spider and sneak into their room to spy on them. I will spy on them for 90 min before i return to the rest of the group.
Tvon'ii watches the sailor's for the queue to combine their efforts...
Investigation12
strength (Athletics) w disadvantage 2
Trumann Bloth | Loxodon Grave Cleric | War of the Green
Prosinet Fizzlepurtet | Gnome Wizard | The Wilcox Experiment
"One... LOOSE!" The boatswain calls. A treasure trove of gold, trinkets, and valuables pour off of the edge of the ship, glimmering in the early evening light; tens of thousands of gold pieces falling down for the dragon turtle to accept as tribute.
"Quick, close it off!" The shipwright brings out a wand, pushing a beam of wood into the hole as a temporary bung into the repairs are ready. "It just needs to hold. If the dragon turtle's here, Prospain won't be too far, now heave!" There is a groan from the remaining workers as the final spells are used to fix the holes long enough for the remainder of the trip.
Chapter 1: Perils in Prospain
An hour after the dragon turtle's departure the damage report is finally completed. The ship's engines were unharmed, so travelling was not impeded. However, the hull of The Dutchess would need serious attention when docked. Many folk are still left terrified of the ordeal; a legendarily powerful creature of the seas nearly sunk them and the hundreds of other refugees with them, but they have survived another day.
Shortly afterwards, a lookout calls that land is on the horizon, The Dutchess should hopefully reach dock by nightfall. The sombre mood suddenly has a resurgence of hope, the destination finally inbound. Many people on the ship begin collecting their belongings, ready to escape their weeks of being on a rocking boat. During that time, two more boats approach, contacting the captain. The contact coming aboard is an unusually tall elf with dark red skin and white hair, whom immediately gets into deep discussions with the ship's leaders.
The rest of the refugees, including the party, are instructed to wait below deck. There are some awkward moments of contemplation, as one trial moves onto another. Eventually a representative of the ship's crew arrives on the deck. "Everyone, collect your belongings. You will disembark in thirty minutes, where you will be led in groups of ten to temporary sheltering." There are excited cheers of joy as the folk on the deck rush to make sure nothing of theirs is left behind, a few small groups arguing over some shared belongings.
(You may use this time to benefit from a short rest. A couple of you took damage, so feel free to spend Hit Dice in order to recover from those nasty concussions.)
Current Player In: The Guild as Elsara Deepmoon
Strength Save: 9
Ace is smashed around by the water, buffeted and partially dented by some of the flying debris of the ship. After the chaos has subsided the Warforged takes the time to flip out the tinker tools which were integrated into his arm and ready his smith's tools. Being as gentle as he can in a reflective surface Ace sets about gently fixing his frame's structural damage, wishing it were that easy to wash away how useless he had felt on the ship amidst the chaotic happenings. After fixing what of himself he could and looking over the damage, he stows his tools, seeking out the others he had been bunked with "How are you all faring?"
Hit Dice (Gonna just roll 2 and keep the result even if I'm not back to full): 9 7
Smokey returns to the group during this time, looking exhausted. "Hey..." He says wearily. "Guess we're finally getting there. Wish we'd just had our sleep shift instead." He yawns. "So... groups of ten. Hope the rooms are a little bigger than the one on here." He chuckles slightly. "I wonder what's gonna happen next. Like, are we gonna have to become citizens, will we go back ever, there's so many questions."
Current Player In: The Guild as Elsara Deepmoon
"Bigger or not don't bother me too much," Tahia says as she dismantles the simple acid trap she'd set to protect her gear. "Notice board or contact center for locating or leaving messages for whoever comes later, that wouldn't go amiss. I could do with a nap, too, but I'd rather nab one of the good rooms, you know?" She grins and winks.
Birgit | Shifter | Sorcerer | Dragonlords
Shayone | Hobgoblin | Sorcerer | Netherdeep
Trumann walks over to Mord, and absentmindedly pulls out a healers kit. and gently pushing past his protests applies salves to the injury and re applies the bandage. he whispers quietly
"Sounds like refugee camps. I don't like it. We should stick together. And the others. Stay safe together." As he finished the bandage he looks up and mutters almost inaudibly "I have to find mother, she know where it is!"
Trumann Bloth | Loxodon Grave Cleric | War of the Green
Prosinet Fizzlepurtet | Gnome Wizard | The Wilcox Experiment
Still a bit waterlogged from the ship's encounter with the Dragon Turtle, Tvon'ii steps lively off the gangplank of the longboat. His eyes close in a sort of personal moment of ultimate satisfaction when his foot is fully out of the water and walking on solid land again. The moment is soured as a wave washes over his feet as if to remind of its proximity. With a bit of a 'grumph' he makes his way on shore towards the general rallying area.
On the beach ahead he see's the bulk of Cabin 13-C gathering naturally. Tvon'ii walks towards the gathering group but slows and turns back towards the sea. The elf seems lost in thought for a moment and takes a step back towards the boats.
"You guys think other ships will arrive soon? Maybe we should set up some sort of watch..."
Korvek grabs his rucksack and his greataxe. He feels a bit disturbed under the soft earth after a long while but shakes off the feeling. He shakes his head at Tvon'ii's question. "Don't think so, if anything, that dragon is enough of a safeguard. Besides, they said temporary sheltering, we'll be on the move again, locals must not have enough room to house two gutted nations." Korvek looks about the new area and to see how many refugees are there right now.
Perception: 12 (To gauge how many refugees)
„It depends, usually Lords and Ladies want back what they have lost, even if they have to sacrifies more lifes. Farmers on the other hand try to rebuild with what they got left.“
Trumann looks down at Mord, startled by the question.
"Oh, what?...? Mother?" he makes a slight harumph noise that comes out his trunk. "Oh umm, ahhh, nothing really, we were separated during the retreat, I was just thinking out loud... I need to find her and make sure she is all right." he stammers. "That's it, sorry to bother you, we best push on,"
Trumann Bloth | Loxodon Grave Cleric | War of the Green
Prosinet Fizzlepurtet | Gnome Wizard | The Wilcox Experiment
Seeing that everyone seems to be ok, Ace checks his gear, making sure all his ammunition is still intact and holstering his weapons, checking his shield to see if it could still be used should the need arrive.
Tvon'ii looks at the Minotaur with a furrowed brow then realizes what he thought was asked, "No no, I mean Daverro and Sarokkan ships. Allies... Maybe we can help resupply The Dutchess so she can go help guide more ships to land?"
The elf looks back out towards the horizon, hoping to glimpse more ships. Friends, family, soldiers to take the fight back to their homeland. "More than the five hundred of us made it to boats, we need to regroup so we can plan the fight to take back our homelands."
With everyone collecting their gear, they are eventually called upon to head up to top deck. Upon seeing the first glimmer of starlight in the twilight, they notice the ship has anchored offshore, the lights of several towers and a town lining a large island with tall mountains with plenty of forested coverage. People are being ferried across to the shore in long rowboats sized for about two dozen people per trip, four seats of each being taken by folk wearing green tabards with a golden crested phoenix embroidered on it.
"You lot!" The boatswain calls to the group, "You're in that one." He points over to one of the rowboats waiting at the side. "Climb down and place your belongings in the centre, when you reach the shore a guide will take you to your next location."
Current Player In: The Guild as Elsara Deepmoon
Headed on the rowboats, the four figures that take the party, alongside another half dozen folk from the ship over to the beaches. There is some waiting and impatient folk, a few of the people who used to be guards or soldiers attempting to keep some semblance of discipline in the refugees whilst things continue.
"Right, you lot!" Says a gruff tone. Looking over, then down, the group realises that the surprisingly bass tone comes from a gnome, garbed in a similar green tabard with golden phoenix emblazoned on its front. He wears scale armour beneath his tabard, and has a crossbow holstered over his shoulder, with a pair of short swords sheathed at the hip. "You're with this lot, come with me." He gestures for the group to follow. "Not you," He says to Smokey. "You're in a different group."
"What? But I was..." Smokey begins to protest.
"Wait here." The gnome commands Smokey, his tone with an air of a hidden threat to it. The group is led to join with three other individuals; two wood elf women and a half-elf man. "You three, you're with them. Make yourselves acquainted when we get to your accomodation, you might be living together for a while."
The half-elf man nod, "Y-y-yes, s-s-s-sir..." He stammers, the two elf women putting a hand on either shoulder before they join the group.
Following the gruff gnome into the streets, the party sees that many locals, humans, halflings, and gnomes being the most noticeable of the races amongst others, watching them with concern and intrigue. There is a series of grand towers that the group see on the high hills around the town, several glimmering beacons showing golden light that casts out into the waters. In the immediate area, the group sees they are headed through a suburban area of this port town, each building made apparently three feet or so above ground with sturdy wooden struts holding the entire structure.
"This one is yours." The gnome tells the group, leading them to a quaint two-storey building. "You will be registered tomorrow at dawn in a refugee list. For now, there is shelter and places to rest your heads. There's only four beds, but enough space to place bedrolls. The outhouses are behind this row of houses."
The building itself is a fairly standard family-sized home, with standard appliances and setup. In all, it is actually quite unremarkable. The elves walks through after the group with the half-elf, looking to the colourful group in turn.
"We should probably let you know now," One of the elves address the party. "Our son has some... requirements. It may sound selfish, but we would appreciate if there is one of the beds and rooms saved for us, my wife and I will not require beds. My name is Alana, and this is Karael, our son is Tristal." Tristal nods, fidgeting a little behind his apparent parents.
Alana is only just over five feet tall, with long silver hair and sky blue eyes. Karael is taller than Alana, with light brown hair and green eyes. Tristal is taller yet, near six feet tall, with black hair and brown eyes.
Current Player In: The Guild as Elsara Deepmoon
Gnoll gets close to Mord and whispers to him:
“I am not sure about Elves, but when two orcs have a child, it isn‘t a halforc...“
For the DM:
ONce we are settled in, i assume the Elfs want their privacy. I will tell Trumann i go for a walk, go outside (where noone will see me) and turn into a small spider and sneak into their room to spy on them. I will spy on them for 90 min before i return to the rest of the group.
sneak 18
perception 21