Wyldfyre nods at Carric in thanks for his name, and makes a mental note of him calling the gnome "Snig." The artificer's explanation of his purpose touches her, and clarifies the joy she gets from others watching her juggling and fireworks. "He's a bit strange," she thinks to herself, "but wise. Hopefully I have a chance to learn from him." She declines joining the game, and just watches. Shortly before high sun she returns to the cabin and gathers up Sparky, letting him climb up onto her shoulder to vanish under her hair. "Let's see about a bite to eat, eh," she says to him, expecting no response.
After lunch, she thanks the cook and heads back up to deck until she finds an opportunity to approach the captain or first mate about how she should use her skills in case of trouble. "I will not EVER be helpless again," she reminds herself.
Come evening after the meal she wanders topside for a bit, looking out across the waves before going back below decks. Missing her practice time today due to the captain's restraints on fire and fireworks, she stops in front of one of the lanterns, spending the next half hour or so changing the color of the flame, and using it almost like a puppet to play out some of her favorite stories from the "before time" when she still had a home at the orphanage. Finally satisfied with exercising her gift for the day, she heads to the cabin and her bunk.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Welcome to the Emporium of Mayhem! What sort of mischief do you seek today? Pyromaniac Wyldfyre searching for her place in the world.
Lattimer gives an impressed look at Snigbovlin. "Good answer! I'm sure your creations'll be of much use in the New World. Wouldn't be surprised if you're the only artificer there, in fact!" He then turns to Natton, seeing Wyldfyre's not keen on the game. "You wanna join us for a round? Or...Carric, you thinkin' bout playin' with some of them for real coin?" He gestures at the crew who, unlike Lattimer, are able to wager actual legal tender.
Snigbovlin smiles at Latimer's remark, "It is the prospect of exploring a place -- a new place -- that excites me. Something wild. I have spent too much time in the comfort of cities these last years."
Looking up from the map, his monocle falling to his neck, secured by a single chain attached to his brown leather skullcap, the gnome looks you over. "An adventurer, then, yes, must be one looking to get 'imself killed. Well maybe I can delay that just a bit, even if only for a bit." Setting down his tools he shuffles through a few of the maps in a stack on the table beside him. Here's one. Copy it, yes, copy it well, as I need the original back. Won't need it for a few days, though, until we get close. You want to stay safe, stay inside the lines of Laroand. You want to die quickly, go explore outside. You'll see there is much more of one than the other." He hands over a map of the continents topography. Only a few small markings are made upon it where settlements have been established.
Snigbovlin snorts, "Hah. If I wanted to kill myself there's easier ways...ooooh...." he stops mid-sentence as the details on the maps catch his eye. "Fasinating. Beautiful work. And the meaning of the colours? Is it made according to the Bartholemew or Talasial conventions? Elves. Picky folk. Always like to mix up the colours, eh?" (( Making that up, obviously -- just trying to interpret the map colours ))
"I can't help but imagine you have seen many a sight in your journeys. Do you truly believe Aikrela is as dangerous as you say? Been there yourself, have you?"
He cant help but marvel at the detail and takes out his own calipers to measure a distances while he searches the map for hidden details. "A lense would help, but she would not let me keep the more valuable tools. No matter, my eyes are still good..."
(( Snigbovlin will spend as many days as needed to copy the map, assuming Topsy will allow the use of the relevant tools needed to copy the map ))
Natton watches the card game with amusement. He is impressed with this tactic of information gathering. He has never thought of delving for information in this way. He would have to remember this.
After they finish a few round, he pipes in, "Carric and Snigbovlin is it? I'm Natton." He extends his arm toward to shake their hands.
He is content with watching a few more rounds without joining in himself before looking around to the crew. Sergei would have played for them, he thinks to himself. After pondering for a bit, he unslings his lute and begins playing for everyone on the boat. The tunes he plays are simple tavern songs, easy to remember, but fun.
Carric lets out a low whistle at the gnome's explanation, "that is a good answer there friend." Carric begins shuffling again "we'll have more games to play before we get there, hope all your answers will be that good" the elf gives him a quick wink. He turns back to lattimer and says "whilst I've been having a good time with you fine folk, I'd like to be able to afford a nice room and meal once we reach land" Carric says with a laugh. He turns back to Wyldfyre and Natton, "I'm sorry, I got a little caught up in the game there, it's been known to make me forgetful, may I have your names??" If Lattimer is watching he will notice the same odd, quiet intensity behind the question, as if Carric is making several decisions by the answer given.
Snigbovlin smiles at Carric, "A paltry excuse, you merely fear a rematch!" he says with bravado he does not feel. A quick fellow that one - I should not expect easy wins -- or any!
He examines Carric more closely for a moment, "What is it you are hiding I wonder, hmm?", he says, his tone laden with mock seriousness, before inclining his head slightly, then turning to the newcomers.
He takes the preferred hand, "Natton, eh? Pleased to meet you. Yes, Sniggbovlin it is! Adviser..." his voice trails off briefly. "Hmm...must stop doing that...Artificer, and seeker of Hidden Knowledge, at your service" he says with a very faint bow.
Taking a deep breath of the sea air and smiling with obvious joy he shakes his head, as if suprised. "What a fine day it has turned out to be -- very auspicious beginning to this remarkable journey, eh?"
Looking up from the map, his monocle falling to his neck, secured by a single chain attached to his brown leather skullcap, the gnome looks you over. "An adventurer, then, yes, must be one looking to get 'imself killed. Well maybe I can delay that just a bit, even if only for a bit." Setting down his tools he shuffles through a few of the maps in a stack on the table beside him. Here's one. Copy it, yes, copy it well, as I need the original back. Won't need it for a few days, though, until we get close. You want to stay safe, stay inside the lines of Laroand. You want to die quickly, go explore outside. You'll see there is much more of one than the other." He hands over a map of the continents topography. Only a few small markings are made upon it where settlements have been established.
Snigbovlin snorts, "Hah. If I wanted to kill myself there's easier ways...ooooh...." he stops mid-sentence as the details on the maps catch his eye. "Fasinating. Beautiful work. And the meaning of the colours? Is it made according to the Bartholemew or Talasial conventions? Elves. Picky folk. Always like to mix up the colours, eh?" (( Making that up, obviously -- just trying to interpret the map colours ))
"I can't help but imagine you have seen many a sight in your journeys. Do you truly believe Aikrela is as dangerous as you say? Been there yourself, have you?"
He cant help but marvel at the detail and takes out his own calipers to measure a distances while he searches the map for hidden details. "A lense would help, but she would not let me keep the more valuable tools. No matter, my eyes are still good..."
(( Snigbovlin will spend as many days as needed to copy the map, assuming Topsy will allow the use of the relevant tools needed to copy the map ))
(A notation on the map: the area is zoomed out, as each hex represents ~5 miles. The white on the bottom-left is tundra. The light green is grasslands, where the dark green is forests. The brown areas are rolling hills. The white tipped areas running through the center and the southern zone are mountains. The tan is desert. The remaining three greenish/blue areas are swamplands. The red areas are blasted lands, to which the mapmaker did not have an accurate method of seeing what was there. The map is rendered from survey ships that circled the island continent but did not land upon its shores.)
"Oh, yes, yes, the map is good. Well made by the cartographers guild," the gnomish navigator replies. He draws Snigbovlin's attention to a few of the other maps on the table. "These all, all the maps are done in Feturesk, much similar to Talasial standard conventions. It's just the measuring is a bit different when drawing it from shore than from land surveys. Not too many of the surveyors and cartographers wanted to touch down. That, and it's several hundred thousand square miles of land to map out. Will probably take some months before a full topographical survey can be done."
"Though in itself, the fact you adventurers were called here," he continues as he turns back to the map he was measuring with the calipers. "Must be very dangerous, quite dangerous indeed. I don't go further out that Carlisle itself, when we are docked. Not enough time for that before our trip back. But the foresters patrolling the area, only a few of them, mind you, have said there are many dangerous creatures in the area. I didn't pay attention to the name of a lot of them, but beasts as big as a house, some might even rival this ship size. Well, maybe not this ship, but a sailing ship no doubt. Ones that will come out of the ground and eat a grown human with one bite. Others, swarms of them that will pick you to the bones in mere seconds."
After the first full nights travel, the wind begins to pick up midday. By evening, the ship is engulfed in a full storm. The waves rage against the side of the boat, dousing anyone nearby in heavy saltwater. Most of the crew pay it no mind. Their tar covered canvas clothes are designed specifically to wick off the water so it doesn't absorb and weigh them down. The captain takes to the wheel for most of the evening, then hands it over to Herondi, a female dwarf who serves as the ships pilot. "It's going to be a big one," the captain jeers and calls, his melodically tuned voice barely carrying over the sounds of the wind and the water. He heads to his cabin and turns himself in for the night.
As soon as the captain has gone into his cabin, anyone on the main deck hears three sharp long calls from Thinain's whistle. After a few moments, he repeats the same three notes. Any crew who isn't actively working to secure supplies or the sails rushes up to the main deck facing the quarterdeck. They do their best to stand at attention as the dwarf barks out orders in his deep, gruff voice. "Strike the sails, and raise the storm jib. Herondi's goin' to ride us the waves to a breach. Three crew shifts, as the captain says we'll be at this all night and then some. Might even last us the week. Adolph has crew one. Stanislawa has crew two. Pippy and Elridge have crew three. It'll be me or the captain in charge all times, so no slackin'."
Thinain turns to see if any of the adventurers are on the deck within earshot. "Oi, you want to prove yourselves useful, you can start early," he calls out soon after another wave crashes over the rails. "We have sails to change, rigging to secure. All belongin's that you want kept ought to be lashed down now. Anyone knows their way around the boat ought to prove it. Anyone else will want to stay below and hold on. Sleep's gonna be thin, so make it last."
(Those with a sailor background or trained in water vehicles gain proficiency to any checks made during the storm. Make a constitution saving throw for the rocking of the boat. Anyone above deck make a dexterity saving throw for being struck by the waves. To assist, declare your intent and associated skill for a skill check. Posts not received by tomorrow (Tuesday @ 9:00pm) will simply be considered as below deck in their cabin for the time being.)
(( minor correction, I forgot Snigbovlin has the tools already ))
At Topsy's mention of the size of the creatures the come up from underground Snigbovlin involuntarily steps back in horror, "Truly? You do not jest?" he asks. I'm small. Barely a snack. Why bother with me?
A conspirational grin appears on his face, and he glances around the room making sure it's still just the two gnomes., "Well...look on the bright side, I suppose: you or I would barely be a mouthful -- so they will likely go for something more appetising! Hah. I shall make sure that I stand near the giant folk then."
"Have there been any signs of civilization, past or present?" he asks.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Snigbovlin was already busy below decks looking at maps when the storm began, and as it grew in intensity he stopped work, afraid of ruining the map he was working on. Making his way to the deck, he catches the final words of Thinain's speech and rapidly turns around, disappearing below decks, his stomach already feeling rebellious. Lemons. Lemons always help. Sniff a lemon. Yes! No more roses.
He goes to his bed and sits down, then fumbles with a small metal tube that was around his neck, opening it and taking out a beautifully preserved dried rose bud. The area around him briefly smells intensely of fresh-cut roses, before the scent dies and he begins to draw odd patterns in the air around the rose bud. Pity. I liked the sympathetic imagery.A lemon rose will have to do! He works rapidly, and the scent of roses is almost immediately replaced by the intensely clean smell of a squeezed lemon and lemon rind (( withing 5' ))
(( OOC: Sniffing a lemons always helps me with travel sickness -- amazingly effective. I will make two rolls, hoping that the lemon scent will give me advantage! ))
After hearing that little speech, he makes his way below deck. Wouldn't be much help up there anyway,he thinks to himself as he stumbles his way to his bunk. The rolling waves slamming into the boat makes it hard for him to walk along without tripping over his own feet or placing a steadying hand on the wall. He closes the door behind him and feels his stomach rumble in agitation. "You were a fool to think you already found you sea legs," he says out loud. He carefully puts his lute away just before he looks to his hands and knees to dry heave.
He pulls himself queasily to his bunk before trying settle in as best as he can for the night. He hopes for a restful night, but sleep evades him as he spends his night vomiting and dry heaving. He breaks out in sweats and chills as his hellish night drags onwards seemingly without end.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Seeing Snigbovlin, Wyldfyre and Natton head below decks, Lattimer snorts. "Just here to play cards and enjoy the ride? Well, arright, I'll see ya on the other side!" He drops his pack down below, then goes back up to try to make himself useful by assisting with the rigging, running along deck and following the sailors' leads in keeping the ship in one piece.
At the sound of ((Dmirr's character's)) continuing distress, Snigbovlin sits up and fumbles again with a chain around his neck. This time he unscrews one end of a metal tube, and the area is immediately flooded with light, quickly dimmed. He considers for a moment, then screws the end back on the tube, slipping it back under his armour. Next he takes a copper coin from his purse and again seems to inscribe runes upon it's surface.
He hands the coin to ((Dmirr's character's)) saying, "Sniff this...it helps me...but I expect a replacement coin in the morning!"
(( for 5' around the source, there is a smell of freshly cut rind and lemon juice -- probably the person in the bunk above/below each of us can smell lemons now! ))
At Topsy's mention of the size of the creatures the come up from underground Snigbovlin involuntarily steps back in horror, "Truly? You do not jest?" he asks. I'm small. Barely a snack. Why bother with me?
A conspirational grin appears on his face, and he glances around the room making sure it's still just the two gnomes., "Well...look on the bright side, I suppose: you or I would barely be a mouthful -- so they will likely go for something more appetising! Hah. I shall make sure that I stand near the giant folk then."
"Have there been any signs of civilization, past or present?" he asks.
"A snack, yes, not much on our bones for eating," Topsy replies, his gaze still focused on his work. "Stay near to others more worthy of a meal, and you'll be fine. Though the coast is not so bad, just beware the further inland you go. As to civilization, there have been cities and ruins spotted, I hear from the foresters. Though they won't go into them, no, there is too much danger for a single forester to dare. But adventurers such as you, perhaps you could find what was there before. Not much, if anything, of peoples now. Only buildings and structures, old old places standing many hundreds of years without a resident."
"Well," he adds, "not a resident who built it. I'm sure by now other things have moved in."
As to civilization, there have been cities and ruins spotted, I hear from the foresters. Though they won't go into them, no, there is too much danger for a single forester to dare. But adventurers such as you, perhaps you could find what was there before. Not much, if anything, of peoples now. Only buildings and structures, old old places standing many hundreds of years without a resident."
"Well," he adds, "not a resident who built it. I'm sure by now other things have moved in."
Snigbovlin considers for a moment before responding, "Interesting indeed. Perhaps a source of income. I suspect people might pay for maps of the locations of such places, even if they are not visited. I shall keep an eye out!"
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Con Save: 17 Dex save: 24
Carric doesn't know much about ships but he does know knots very well, and runs around double checking tie downs and seeing if he can fix any knots ((I think sleight of hand would probably be best for that so 20 sleight of hand))
Making her way below deck, Wyldfyre hangs near to the bunks as the ship rocks and shifts with the storm.
Snigbovlin - CON 25(ADV with lemons. I looked it up, it does work for motion sickness, apparently)
Able to get his maps and equipment safely stored away before the worst of the storm hits, the gnome Snigbovlin starts to feel his stomach churn as the boat rocks. As the citric scent of lemons fills the area, he can already feel his sickness lessening. The coin he gives to Natton, wafting with the lemon smell, keeps the man from vomiting his lunch in the small guest cabin.
Natton - CON 4
A particularly high wave strikes the side of the boat, tilting it nearly onto its side. Natton is flung against the side of the cabin, his insides feel like they've been flung to the other side of the cabin. The faint scent of lemon is all that keeps his lunch down and spreading across the floor. Throughout the night, his head pounds with every crash of water. His comes to him eventually, more from exhaustion, and only lasts a few short hours before the crack of thunder awakens him again to the nauseating storm.
Lattimer - CON 19, DEX 25, Acrobatics 6
His footing secure, Lattimer is able to dart across the deck and assist in checking the ropes and other rigging on the sails. The sailors include him in their shifts to keep the ship sailing as smooth as it can. As one of the heavier waves slams against the ships railing, the rush of water sweeps Lattimer off his feet. He slides across the deck, soaked to the skin. If not for the railing on the other side, it is likely he would have slid straight off into the water.
Carric - CON 7, DEX 24, Sleight of Hand 13
Finding it difficult to keep his lunch down, Carric stays on top of the deck following the sailors to check the knots and ropes. He is able to secure more than one that has come loose from the strong winds and rush of water. The sails hold against the storm and Horondi guides it through the night without incident.
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
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Wyldfyre nods at Carric in thanks for his name, and makes a mental note of him calling the gnome "Snig." The artificer's explanation of his purpose touches her, and clarifies the joy she gets from others watching her juggling and fireworks. "He's a bit strange," she thinks to herself, "but wise. Hopefully I have a chance to learn from him." She declines joining the game, and just watches. Shortly before high sun she returns to the cabin and gathers up Sparky, letting him climb up onto her shoulder to vanish under her hair. "Let's see about a bite to eat, eh," she says to him, expecting no response.
After lunch, she thanks the cook and heads back up to deck until she finds an opportunity to approach the captain or first mate about how she should use her skills in case of trouble. "I will not EVER be helpless again," she reminds herself.
Come evening after the meal she wanders topside for a bit, looking out across the waves before going back below decks. Missing her practice time today due to the captain's restraints on fire and fireworks, she stops in front of one of the lanterns, spending the next half hour or so changing the color of the flame, and using it almost like a puppet to play out some of her favorite stories from the "before time" when she still had a home at the orphanage. Finally satisfied with exercising her gift for the day, she heads to the cabin and her bunk.
Welcome to the Emporium of Mayhem! What sort of mischief do you seek today?
Pyromaniac Wyldfyre searching for her place in the world.
Lattimer gives an impressed look at Snigbovlin. "Good answer! I'm sure your creations'll be of much use in the New World. Wouldn't be surprised if you're the only artificer there, in fact!" He then turns to Natton, seeing Wyldfyre's not keen on the game. "You wanna join us for a round? Or...Carric, you thinkin' bout playin' with some of them for real coin?" He gestures at the crew who, unlike Lattimer, are able to wager actual legal tender.
Snigbovlin smiles at Latimer's remark, "It is the prospect of exploring a place -- a new place -- that excites me. Something wild. I have spent too much time in the comfort of cities these last years."
Snigbovlin snorts, "Hah. If I wanted to kill myself there's easier ways...ooooh...." he stops mid-sentence as the details on the maps catch his eye. "Fasinating. Beautiful work. And the meaning of the colours? Is it made according to the Bartholemew or Talasial conventions? Elves. Picky folk. Always like to mix up the colours, eh?" (( Making that up, obviously -- just trying to interpret the map colours ))
"I can't help but imagine you have seen many a sight in your journeys. Do you truly believe Aikrela is as dangerous as you say? Been there yourself, have you?"
He cant help but marvel at the detail and takes out his own calipers to measure a distances while he searches the map for hidden details. "A lense would help, but she would not let me keep the more valuable tools. No matter, my eyes are still good..."
(( Snigbovlin will spend as many days as needed to copy the map, assuming Topsy will allow the use of the relevant tools needed to copy the map ))
Natton watches the card game with amusement. He is impressed with this tactic of information gathering. He has never thought of delving for information in this way. He would have to remember this.
After they finish a few round, he pipes in, "Carric and Snigbovlin is it? I'm Natton." He extends his arm toward to shake their hands.
He is content with watching a few more rounds without joining in himself before looking around to the crew. Sergei would have played for them, he thinks to himself. After pondering for a bit, he unslings his lute and begins playing for everyone on the boat. The tunes he plays are simple tavern songs, easy to remember, but fun.
Performance check: 21
Carric lets out a low whistle at the gnome's explanation, "that is a good answer there friend." Carric begins shuffling again "we'll have more games to play before we get there, hope all your answers will be that good" the elf gives him a quick wink. He turns back to lattimer and says "whilst I've been having a good time with you fine folk, I'd like to be able to afford a nice room and meal once we reach land" Carric says with a laugh. He turns back to Wyldfyre and Natton, "I'm sorry, I got a little caught up in the game there, it's been known to make me forgetful, may I have your names??" If Lattimer is watching he will notice the same odd, quiet intensity behind the question, as if Carric is making several decisions by the answer given.
Torrin Delmirev - Into the Abyss
Krusk - Rime of the Frost Maiden
Snigbovlin smiles at Carric, "A paltry excuse, you merely fear a rematch!" he says with bravado he does not feel. A quick fellow that one - I should not expect easy wins -- or any!
He examines Carric more closely for a moment, "What is it you are hiding I wonder, hmm?", he says, his tone laden with mock seriousness, before inclining his head slightly, then turning to the newcomers.
He takes the preferred hand, "Natton, eh? Pleased to meet you. Yes, Sniggbovlin it is! Adviser..." his voice trails off briefly. "Hmm...must stop doing that...Artificer, and seeker of Hidden Knowledge, at your service" he says with a very faint bow.
Taking a deep breath of the sea air and smiling with obvious joy he shakes his head, as if suprised. "What a fine day it has turned out to be -- very auspicious beginning to this remarkable journey, eh?"
(A notation on the map: the area is zoomed out, as each hex represents ~5 miles. The white on the bottom-left is tundra. The light green is grasslands, where the dark green is forests. The brown areas are rolling hills. The white tipped areas running through the center and the southern zone are mountains. The tan is desert. The remaining three greenish/blue areas are swamplands. The red areas are blasted lands, to which the mapmaker did not have an accurate method of seeing what was there. The map is rendered from survey ships that circled the island continent but did not land upon its shores.)
"Oh, yes, yes, the map is good. Well made by the cartographers guild," the gnomish navigator replies. He draws Snigbovlin's attention to a few of the other maps on the table. "These all, all the maps are done in Feturesk, much similar to Talasial standard conventions. It's just the measuring is a bit different when drawing it from shore than from land surveys. Not too many of the surveyors and cartographers wanted to touch down. That, and it's several hundred thousand square miles of land to map out. Will probably take some months before a full topographical survey can be done."
"Though in itself, the fact you adventurers were called here," he continues as he turns back to the map he was measuring with the calipers. "Must be very dangerous, quite dangerous indeed. I don't go further out that Carlisle itself, when we are docked. Not enough time for that before our trip back. But the foresters patrolling the area, only a few of them, mind you, have said there are many dangerous creatures in the area. I didn't pay attention to the name of a lot of them, but beasts as big as a house, some might even rival this ship size. Well, maybe not this ship, but a sailing ship no doubt. Ones that will come out of the ground and eat a grown human with one bite. Others, swarms of them that will pick you to the bones in mere seconds."
After the first full nights travel, the wind begins to pick up midday. By evening, the ship is engulfed in a full storm. The waves rage against the side of the boat, dousing anyone nearby in heavy saltwater. Most of the crew pay it no mind. Their tar covered canvas clothes are designed specifically to wick off the water so it doesn't absorb and weigh them down. The captain takes to the wheel for most of the evening, then hands it over to Herondi, a female dwarf who serves as the ships pilot. "It's going to be a big one," the captain jeers and calls, his melodically tuned voice barely carrying over the sounds of the wind and the water. He heads to his cabin and turns himself in for the night.
As soon as the captain has gone into his cabin, anyone on the main deck hears three sharp long calls from Thinain's whistle. After a few moments, he repeats the same three notes. Any crew who isn't actively working to secure supplies or the sails rushes up to the main deck facing the quarterdeck. They do their best to stand at attention as the dwarf barks out orders in his deep, gruff voice. "Strike the sails, and raise the storm jib. Herondi's goin' to ride us the waves to a breach. Three crew shifts, as the captain says we'll be at this all night and then some. Might even last us the week. Adolph has crew one. Stanislawa has crew two. Pippy and Elridge have crew three. It'll be me or the captain in charge all times, so no slackin'."
Thinain turns to see if any of the adventurers are on the deck within earshot. "Oi, you want to prove yourselves useful, you can start early," he calls out soon after another wave crashes over the rails. "We have sails to change, rigging to secure. All belongin's that you want kept ought to be lashed down now. Anyone knows their way around the boat ought to prove it. Anyone else will want to stay below and hold on. Sleep's gonna be thin, so make it last."
(Those with a sailor background or trained in water vehicles gain proficiency to any checks made during the storm. Make a constitution saving throw for the rocking of the boat. Anyone above deck make a dexterity saving throw for being struck by the waves. To assist, declare your intent and associated skill for a skill check. Posts not received by tomorrow (Tuesday @ 9:00pm) will simply be considered as below deck in their cabin for the time being.)
(( minor correction, I forgot Snigbovlin has the tools already ))
At Topsy's mention of the size of the creatures the come up from underground Snigbovlin involuntarily steps back in horror, "Truly? You do not jest?" he asks. I'm small. Barely a snack. Why bother with me?
A conspirational grin appears on his face, and he glances around the room making sure it's still just the two gnomes., "Well...look on the bright side, I suppose: you or I would barely be a mouthful -- so they will likely go for something more appetising! Hah. I shall make sure that I stand near the giant folk then."
"Have there been any signs of civilization, past or present?" he asks.
Unfamiliar with ships or the sea, Wyldfyre will follow Thinain's advice and head below deck, until such time as it seems prudent to do otherwise.
CON check 22
Welcome to the Emporium of Mayhem! What sort of mischief do you seek today?
Pyromaniac Wyldfyre searching for her place in the world.
Unfamiliar with ships or the sea, Wyldfyre will follow Thinain's advice and head below deck, until such time as it seems prudent to do otherwise.
CON check 19
DnDBeyond gave me an error on the post, so clicked post again ...
Welcome to the Emporium of Mayhem! What sort of mischief do you seek today?
Pyromaniac Wyldfyre searching for her place in the world.
Snigbovlin was already busy below decks looking at maps when the storm began, and as it grew in intensity he stopped work, afraid of ruining the map he was working on. Making his way to the deck, he catches the final words of Thinain's speech and rapidly turns around, disappearing below decks, his stomach already feeling rebellious. Lemons. Lemons always help. Sniff a lemon. Yes! No more roses.
He goes to his bed and sits down, then fumbles with a small metal tube that was around his neck, opening it and taking out a beautifully preserved dried rose bud. The area around him briefly smells intensely of fresh-cut roses, before the scent dies and he begins to draw odd patterns in the air around the rose bud. Pity. I liked the sympathetic imagery. A lemon rose will have to do! He works rapidly, and the scent of roses is almost immediately replaced by the intensely clean smell of a squeezed lemon and lemon rind (( withing 5' ))
(( OOC: Sniffing a lemons always helps me with travel sickness -- amazingly effective. I will make two rolls, hoping that the lemon scent will give me advantage! ))
Two Con rolls: 10 and 24
Con Check: 4
Oh shucks.
After hearing that little speech, he makes his way below deck. Wouldn't be much help up there anyway, he thinks to himself as he stumbles his way to his bunk. The rolling waves slamming into the boat makes it hard for him to walk along without tripping over his own feet or placing a steadying hand on the wall. He closes the door behind him and feels his stomach rumble in agitation. "You were a fool to think you already found you sea legs," he says out loud. He carefully puts his lute away just before he looks to his hands and knees to dry heave.
He pulls himself queasily to his bunk before trying settle in as best as he can for the night. He hopes for a restful night, but sleep evades him as he spends his night vomiting and dry heaving. He breaks out in sweats and chills as his hellish night drags onwards seemingly without end.
Seeing Snigbovlin, Wyldfyre and Natton head below decks, Lattimer snorts. "Just here to play cards and enjoy the ride? Well, arright, I'll see ya on the other side!" He drops his pack down below, then goes back up to try to make himself useful by assisting with the rigging, running along deck and following the sailors' leads in keeping the ship in one piece.
Con save: 15
Dex save: 14
Acrobatics check: 18
(( If the lemon trick works, then: ))
At the sound of ((Dmirr's character's)) continuing distress, Snigbovlin sits up and fumbles again with a chain around his neck. This time he unscrews one end of a metal tube, and the area is immediately flooded with light, quickly dimmed. He considers for a moment, then screws the end back on the tube, slipping it back under his armour. Next he takes a copper coin from his purse and again seems to inscribe runes upon it's surface.
He hands the coin to ((Dmirr's character's)) saying, "Sniff this...it helps me...but I expect a replacement coin in the morning!"
(( for 5' around the source, there is a smell of freshly cut rind and lemon juice -- probably the person in the bunk above/below each of us can smell lemons now! ))
"A snack, yes, not much on our bones for eating," Topsy replies, his gaze still focused on his work. "Stay near to others more worthy of a meal, and you'll be fine. Though the coast is not so bad, just beware the further inland you go. As to civilization, there have been cities and ruins spotted, I hear from the foresters. Though they won't go into them, no, there is too much danger for a single forester to dare. But adventurers such as you, perhaps you could find what was there before. Not much, if anything, of peoples now. Only buildings and structures, old old places standing many hundreds of years without a resident."
"Well," he adds, "not a resident who built it. I'm sure by now other things have moved in."
Snigbovlin considers for a moment before responding, "Interesting indeed. Perhaps a source of income. I suspect people might pay for maps of the locations of such places, even if they are not visited. I shall keep an eye out!"
Con Save: 17 Dex save: 24
Carric doesn't know much about ships but he does know knots very well, and runs around double checking tie downs and seeing if he can fix any knots ((I think sleight of hand would probably be best for that so 20 sleight of hand))
Torrin Delmirev - Into the Abyss
Krusk - Rime of the Frost Maiden
Making her way below deck, Wyldfyre hangs near to the bunks as the ship rocks and shifts with the storm.
Able to get his maps and equipment safely stored away before the worst of the storm hits, the gnome Snigbovlin starts to feel his stomach churn as the boat rocks. As the citric scent of lemons fills the area, he can already feel his sickness lessening. The coin he gives to Natton, wafting with the lemon smell, keeps the man from vomiting his lunch in the small guest cabin.
A particularly high wave strikes the side of the boat, tilting it nearly onto its side. Natton is flung against the side of the cabin, his insides feel like they've been flung to the other side of the cabin. The faint scent of lemon is all that keeps his lunch down and spreading across the floor. Throughout the night, his head pounds with every crash of water. His comes to him eventually, more from exhaustion, and only lasts a few short hours before the crack of thunder awakens him again to the nauseating storm.
His footing secure, Lattimer is able to dart across the deck and assist in checking the ropes and other rigging on the sails. The sailors include him in their shifts to keep the ship sailing as smooth as it can. As one of the heavier waves slams against the ships railing, the rush of water sweeps Lattimer off his feet. He slides across the deck, soaked to the skin. If not for the railing on the other side, it is likely he would have slid straight off into the water.
Finding it difficult to keep his lunch down, Carric stays on top of the deck following the sailors to check the knots and ropes. He is able to secure more than one that has come loose from the strong winds and rush of water. The sails hold against the storm and Horondi guides it through the night without incident.