Kallith uses her staff to try and shove the boat along the pier towards Chandle, so they may both get closer to Octo and the struggling dwarf. If it seems like this may take too much time or the progress is hindered in some way, she unstraps the rope from her pack and throws it to Chandle and Molly.
Kallith makes the row boat first. Powerful strokes propelling her through the water. Reaching out with her staff she tries to hook the boat. Nothing stands out to lodge the staff into, and no hook on the end of the wooden shaft makes it even harder. A few more strokes however brings her close enough to throw the staff and her arm over, hanging from the gunnel. Kicking to push the boat towards Chandle, she is prevented by the lead. Attached to the back of the boat and tied to the piers it holds the boat in place, an old and frayed rope. Chandle reaches the boat somehow, sputtering and trying not to gulp water in her panicked state..
Octo crash's through the mob. His warmth, his smell, his life and activity draws the attention of the mob. They turn to intercept as the large minotaur thrashes his horns and tries to drive through the mob to the boat. A loud crash, the wood beneath his feet ripples as the crane twists and smashes into the pier. Wood splinters with a rent and screech, the previous 15' of pier smashed in to the waters below. One of the Walking dead goes with it. Octo suffers a couple swipes as he rushes forward, the Pier disintegrating beneath him he leaps for the boat.
Octo, Make an Athletics or Acrobatics check. The pier is falling apart as the crane smashes into and through the wooden slats he was just standing on. DC 13
If he succeed....
Octo, sprints forward, the wood ripple under him as he barrels through the mob of dead, several of them try to prevent him from leaping into the boat, swiping, tearing and gnashing at him as he passes, yet he continues and makes the boat with a few bloody gashes...
Walking dead attack against Octo: Attack: 15 Damage: 5
Walking dead attack against Octo: Attack: 21 Damage: 3
Walking dead attack against Octo: Attack: 17 Damage: 3
Walking dead attack against Octo: Attack: 10 Damage: 5
If Octo fails the check...
Not quick enough, the Dead block his passage forward, the crane twists with a loud wrenching screech of torn wood and metal. It, almost in slow motion, reaches its boom out over the water then falls, engulfing the pier and Octo, standing upon it. The cold briny water rushes up to greet him, the weight of the crane driving him down, down, towards the bay floor. And a swarm of dead, leaping and scuttling to rend him from this life.
Crane falling on Octo : 2 Bludgeon damage. He is pushed under the water. The black hull and flailing legs of his companions above him. The Blonde girl is floating beneath the waves, kicking at several dead trying to grab and pull her down. One of the Dead, leaping from the sea floor below reaches a cold, swollen, brine soaked arm to grab Octo's leg. Its talons straining to tear, and to grip and pull him under.
Walking (Swimming) dead attack against Octo: Attack: 11 Damage: 4 Grapple : 21
If the Dead hits with the attack it attempts to grapple Octo.
Chandle thrashes, panic keeping her movements chaotic, and dangerous. Pulled through the water, the blonde girl has disappeared beneath the waves. Somehow the dwarf, pushed, pulled, and held above water makes it to the boat as the girl, fades beneath the surface, only the moon casting its light across its unbroken surface. No way a person can hold their breath, and exert themselves to push another to safety. Great gasps come to Chandle, her grip, like Iron yet tenuous upon the edge of the boat. Her legs kick frantically to stay aloft. Somehow, pushed, pulled and shoved above the waves, she reaches and grabs the rail of the row boat. Gasps of salty brine and swallowed water taxing her strength.
Molly struggles, but manages to keep the Dwarf's head above water, at the cost of her own. Pushed and held beneath the surface by a struggling dwarf. Kicking with powerful strokes but not used to the exertion she watches the dark bobbing shape of the boats hull getting closer. A darkness against the silver cast surface. The waves are beautiful from beneath, the water a calm, flirtatious embrace. She is becoming tired, her legs growing numb with each kick. The weight and thrashing of the dwarf taking its toll. Molly notices the Walking dead do not die, or end their existence beneath the waves. Several have fallen in and sunk, not quite walking along the bottom they seem to push up and forward then slowly fall back several feet away. The look is surreal, the dead appear almost weightless, partially floating from one leap to another. A couple of them have gotten close, just beneath the boat. Chandle grabs the rail just in time as they leap upward and attempt to grab the girls legs.
Walking dead attack against Molly: Attack: 12 Damage: 2 Grapple check: 6
If it hits it attempts to grab her and pull her deeper. grappled. The grapple check follows the attack.
Dornin has swam before. But this is no gentle calm woodland lake, it is not a sun soaked beach of sand and steady waves. Dornin has never swam in dead infested brine, a haunted town, a questionable reception ahead. Dornin cleaves through the waves, adrenalin and desperation pushing him on. The rail of the boat feels cool under his grip. A sailor he is not but even he feels alarm when, Kallith, Chandle and himself grip the same rail. The gunnel dips, nearly becoming submerged and capsizing the small vessel. Leaning dangerously a wave laps over the edge, too many and it will sink to the bottom of the shallow bay.
With the three of you clinging to the boats rails, the Dead shuffle to the edge of the pier and tumble off with no rail to stop them. First one, then another, and a third. Each of them tumble, walking off the pier with no next step to take, they crash into the bottom of the hull. Prone but not for long, the three dead will stand, and drive you into the waves or gnash at the disadvantaged companions, clinging desperately to the rail. The remaining dead upon the pier will follow within moments, their shuffling steps taking them to the edge, and over into the boat. Soon it will be crowded with the Walking dead, no place for the living.
Octo runs to the boat, but his feet get caught up in a barnacle encrusted rope and he falls face first into the dock. He stands, but before he can get started again, the dock explodes around him as a large crane crashed into it, clipping his shoulder, and sending him careening into the cold sea.
In the water, the dead reach for him but are unable to get hold of him. He notices the girl, under water and under attack, and swims towards her to help.
As the Rhinemaiden suddenly found herself amidst a desperate struggle beneath the waves. The brackish, dark, and cold bay water was her domain, yet the relentless undead had even breached this sanctuary.
Her heart pounding in her ears, Molly unleashed the arcane fury she commanded. With a flick of her wrist and a whispered incantation that sounded like the murmur of the deep sea, she conjured an Eldritch Blast. The energy crackled through the water, a streak of luminescent terror aiming to push back the groping dead. She summoned a Tentacle of the Deepalmost simultaneously—a manifestation of her pact with Brineheart.
The spectral tentacle, a ghastly appendage of deep-sea lore, thrashed violently at the undead assailant. Molly’s intentions were clear: she sought not to linger for a fight but to create a momentary barrier, a chance to escape her pursuers' clutches. Her mind, a maelstrom of panic and madness, was singularly focused on the simple yet vital goal—to swim away, to distance herself from the ghastly fingers that sought to drag her into the abyss of undeath.
Tentacle of the Deeps Attack to Hit:16 Damage:3 (Bonus Action)
Movement: If possible, Molly's intention is to Swim 40' away from her attacker at her full moment, hoping her attacks might allow her to do so. If she is able to move away, if she runs across any of her companions, she will seek to help them get to the boat. Either way, she will maintain the Tentacle of the Deep should she still be caught up in combat the following round.
Chandle grabs the boat sees the zombies threatening to overload and sink the vessel and with a surge of adrenaline reaches with her free hand to destroy or at least knock them out of the boat.
Bonus action the scimitar of deaths embrace appears in her free hand. Action attack a zombie (disadvantage) 12 damage 8. Object Interaction rock the boat trying to shake a zombie out. Movement climb into the boat.
Kallith desperately grips the corner of the boat, not being able to get a good hold to pull herself up. All she can do is switch to the other side and hope the wood stabilized enough so an ascend could be attempted by someone lighter than her. Saltwater in her troat, she coughs. She curses and gets even more saltwater in her mouth. Between the biting water and the narrow vision granted by the adrenaline, she can see the dead falling over each other to get into the boat, already filling it up. Her mind wasn't used to pessimism, but at this moment she saw no way out for the group. Her mind screamed at her: 'Staying here means death.'
(OoC: I'm not sure how much of the pier has collapsed and where. The following assumes that the pier next to the boat is still standing).
In desperation, the druid pushes off the boat and clings to the support beams of the pier, the slick material not serving as a good handhold. But it would be enough: from one moment to the next, Kallith is a squirrel again, sinking its tiny claws into the damp wood much easier, scrambling up. Her heart imitates a rapid hammerbeat. She desperately for a place where she can see the undead better and get in a position to potentially shove them into the water and stop them from approaching the boat.
Dornin struggles keeping himself above the dark water, constantly spitting out the salty sea with every breath he takes. Seeing the boat tethered to a post on the dock by the brittle rope keeping it in place, he fills his lungs with air once more and forces himself over to the post to untie it. With the now harsh waves from all the disruptions, it makes it difficult for him to try and loosen the knot, in frustration, he places his hand amongst the rope and calls to his fiendish powers to destroy it where the rope meets the docks. (Eldritch Blast:9 Force damage) His eyes dart around looking to see everyone's position, he looks to Octo seeing he nearly dodged death from the fallings crane. Attempting to hold the ledge of the dock and the rope of the boat at the same time, he calls out to him "Octo! I do not know how much longer I can hold this, hurry!"
Dornin is growing tired, unsure how much more he can keep up swimming like this, he hopes the Chandle and their new found friend can make it to the boat. He knows if he gets too tired, he can simply hold to the rope and float if needed, but these undead may eat him alive.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Kallith scurries up the dank wood, a little chirp unbidden doesn't distract the dead from shambling towards the boat. She finds herself scampering up the rail beside the stairs.
Molly swims with powerful strokes through the water, still beneath the waves she glances back. The tentacles have harried a few but others continue to bound across the sea floor towards her. Her distance, and depth prevent them from reaching her. They cant swim, instead drifting back to the floor and leaping feebly, their bloated arms reaching unsuccessfully from the depths below.
Dornin pulls himself up the pillar, the swollen twine molded into place. Barnacles sealing the knot into a mass of hard rough cuticle. The Blast does more than burn up the knot. The pillar cracks and shudders. The pier above sags alarmingly throwing a Dead over his shoulder, plunging past Dornin into the drink. A loud groan of tearing wood, swollen beams creaking. Unable to hold on, the whole structure tips, the Dead lurch and tumble from its tilting edge dropping one by one into the waves below. With a screech and a horrendous din the pier breaks from its supports and crashes. Waves rock the little vessel, pushing it outward into the bay. Dornin clings to the rope, struggling to stay afloat as the wooden pier falls atop him.
Chandle grips the rail, it dips as the three Dead climb to their feet, no understanding of the proper use of a boat. They lurch towards the Dwarf perilously clinging. The boat tips, ejecting one over the Dwarfs shoulder. A quick thrust of her scimitar and a flick sends a second into the depths. The third rises and with bony claws, the flesh peeled back from bone it sinks the claws into her hands, trying to dislodge the iron grip.
The Walking Dead, bony claws against Chandle: Attack: 12 Damage: 5
Octo is pushed down, down into the water. The falling crane and smashed pier driving him under the waves. As a glancing blow brings a flush of blood, attracting the dead to his presence. The dark, impoentrable beneath the waves disorients the Minotaur. The labyrinth had springs, and a small pool beneath a falling water, but they were for bathing. Nothing like this was in his experience. The water was deep, and in the twilight he couldn't tell which way was up. Weightless he floated, tumbling. his only salvation the Dead upon the floor below. He thrusts with his hands, kicking with his feet just thinking, up.
Beneath the murky waters near the docks of Port Llast, the Rhinemaiden swam with a grace that belied her frazzled state of mind. The cold embrace of the sea was a sanctuary, a whisper of the vast, unfathomable depths that her patron, Brineheart, governed. As Molly navigated through the shadowy waters, the ragged doll Nettles, inside her backpack, murmured incessantly. The doll's sibilant whispers guide the Rhinemaiden with a strange sense of purpose through the underwater gloom. The doll's voice, unnervingly clear beneath the waves, instructed her with a secretive urgency that seemed to pulse with the rhythm of the tides.
Encouraged by Nettles’ whispered stratagems, Molly moved stealthily towards the area where she had first entered the water, her movements almost spectral in the dim light filtering down from above. The silhouettes of the docks loomed ahead, a skeletal reminder of the world above, haunted by more than just the undead. As she reached a point just beneath the surface, near where the wooden pillars of the dock began, Molly paused. Her eyes, wide and reflecting a tumult of madness and revelation, scanned the dark waters around her, firstly taking note of the locations of the Walking Dead both above and below the water, always keeping an eye on them, and secondly, trying to keep an eye on her allies as best she is able.
Then, with a practiced gesture, the Rhinemaiden cast the cantrip Minor Illusion. Molly focused not on a visual trick but on an auditory one—she conjured the sonorous peal of the temple bell she had rung earlier in her makeshift refuge. She amplified the sound, making it resonate above the water into the haunted air of Port Llast. The bell's deep, resonant tones, artificially replicated by her magic, rang out in an attempt to draw the nearby undead towards the ringing of the bell and away, albeit temporarily, from her allies. The sound of the rich and ominous bell filled the area, echoing off and hopefully reaching the ears of the shambling horrors on the docks and in the water. OOC: Hopefully, Molly, with her 40' movement rate in the water coupled with her Devil's sight that allows her to see normally in darkness, both magical and nonmagical, to a distance of 120 ft., should be able to easily see both beneath and on the water to avoid any Walking Dead from getting to close to her. The map I've supplied is NOT DM-approved; it's not official, but it is only a guestimate in very general terms. Designed more to show Molly's location (the mermaid icon) around where she is casting her Minor Illusion of the bell sound above the surface of the water just as loud as she is able, moving the sound to and fro as needed as her fishing lure. Using it to draw the Walking Away and hopefully provide a chance for the others to get on the boat and head out to the open sea.
How I see it. The line between deep water and shallow is the difference between the underwater dead able to reach and grab a character at the surface. The pier is gone, the boat adrift with Chandle gripping its rail and Dornin clutching the rope. Kallith is atop the tairs watching te whole structure unravel. Octo is struggling to surface.
OOC: Having a better idea of everyone's location relative to each other Molly will instead immediately make her way to Octo and assist him back up to the surface and help him to swim to the boat weaving between any Walking Dead between them and the boat.
Kallith turns back into a firbolg, hands clasping around the railing, staring at the collapsing section of the pier in front of her, the foaming water and her friends fighting with the row boat and undead. She sees Molly stroking her way over to Octo and the other two drifting away.
She is breathing heavily, having forced her body through rapid transformations. All she can do is pick up a few debris of wood and metal pieces and enchant them with magic stone to have some ammunition to throw at the undead.
Molly swims to Octo's aid. Despite the fact the Minotaur is larger than the Dwarf, and heavier, his natural athleticism lends him strength as he paddles towards the rowboat. Stowing the stones Kallith dives into the waves once again and makes her way to the drifting boat before it slowly makes it way too far into the Bay.
Chandle flicks the last of the Dead over the rail and into the drink. As your group clambers into the rowboat you collapse, the tumultuousness of the last hour, the race through the dead infested town, the struggles at the dock, inhaled brine has left you winded. The stars above twinkle with promise. The clouds have moved on revealing a near full moon, the light of Selune casting the world in a glorious silver luminescence.
Of the three schooners moored in the bay you spotted an hour ago, only one remains. The vessel with Isbiel aboard has already set sail out to sea, nearly disappearing towards the horizon. The second vessel follows close behind, leaving the last schooner, still moored nearby. Several lanterns illuminate its deck with three men standing against the rail and watching. The larger of the three bellows across the water, "Get a move on girl, get over here, now"
You came to rescue Isbiel, this schooner and its captain are a part of the group that snatched her, you wonder what kind of reception you are to receive.
In the chilling embrace of Port Llast's murky waters, the Rhinemaiden clung to the faint whispers of Nettles, her enigmatic guide through the tumultuous undead sea. Despite her weary limbs from the relentless swimming about, she moved with the grace of a creature born to the depths, empowered by her pact with Brineheart, who had cursed her but also lent her strength when she needed it the most. Approaching the shadow of the last ship in the bay, her heart pounded with frenzied excitement, not of fear, but of the exhilarating joy that always danced at the edges of her fractured mind, a wild and absurd delight that was as mysterious as the sea she traversed.
Above water, the world was filled with noise and struggle, but beneath the waves, a haunting silence hummed with the calls of the deep. Nettles' voice, a thread of sanity woven through the cacophony of Mad Molly's thoughts, urged her onward, the doll's murmurs blending with the water swirling around her, a sound only she could hear, or at least she thought so. The Rhinemaiden signaled her new companions to row towards the last ship, where it was evident from the expressions on her face and the ship's captain that they were well acquainted.
As the silhouette of the Siren's Folly loomed against the moonlit sky, Molly's fingers grasped the rough wood of the ladder, pulling her exhausted form from the water's cold embrace. As she clambered onto the deck, her clothes clinging to her like seaweed, her breath coming in ragged gasps that spoke of her exertions. There, her captain stood, a figure of commanding presence, his voice booming across the deck, urging her to hasten as though the winds might obey his command. As she stood before him, the Rhinemaiden retrieved something from her backpack, a worn and faded waterproof seal-skin satchel. With a chaotic giggle that belied the gravity of her mission, Molly approached, the worn satchel heavy in her grasp. Within it lay the prize for which so much had been risked, which she quickly handed over to the captain.
Her gaze, wild and unsteady, swept the deck where the remnants of her crew should have been. "Deine sea dogs schlafen mit the fishes," she declared, a macabre note of glee threading through her words, a morbid giggle escaping her lips. "But fürchte nicht, for I bring thee frische Hände." Her laughter, tinged with the edge of lunacy, echoed across the deck as she stood by her captain, awaiting his command; her duty was fulfilled, yet her fate, like the night-tossed sea, was ever uncertain.
The firbolg watches the leading ship sail away with incredible speed and her heart sinks. It seemed like they were always too late, no matter how much haste they made. She didn't trust this remaining ship either. Did it belong to the Ibn Altair? Why was this girl leading them there?
Kallith looks sidelong at the others as Molly ascends the creaking ladder to the ship, speaking low enough that the sound of the waves and the creaking of the ship would mask them to the people up on deck. "What's the plan? This ship was part of the same group as the one who took Isbiel. It might be dangerous. I'm out of ideas."
Octo nods at Kallith in agreement, keeping his voice low.
“I think its best if we are ‘careful’ with what we share here. I’m not sure we could have gotten out of the city without this girl, but I’m not ready to thank her yet, as I’m not sure where she led us. Let’s look for signs of Bhaal worship on this boat and see if we can talk to this girl alone?”
“We can say we came to Port Llast to investigate rumors of the undead, but were not prepared for the sheer number of them? Maybe not the most impressive lie, but its what I can think of on the fly.”
The captain snatches the seal skin from the tiny girls hands. Her height barely half the towering man, he could fit her into his thigh muscle. He glowers, a simmering anger always just beneath the surface. he lifts his hand ever so, a threat, a promise. "Where my crew girl, why you not with them!" he growls. His eyes narrow, he already knows the answer 'This better be worth it or you'll be joinin them." He lifts the satchel up, giving it a shake for understanding.
Turning to and gazing down into the rowboat, at the four ragtag, exhausted members of your group still bobbing gently on the water. "What have you brought home Molly, a bunch of drowned rats. You stupid girl thinking they replace a skilled crew." he looks back to the town, a glance out to sea. With a broad smile growing upon his large flat face "Well an opportunity for us all, a change of fate" He tussles the blonde mop and says "well come aboard then, don't look like you got much choice". He gestures to the magnificence of his ship. "We got a few rules on board this vessel, first ones first, you do what I say, or you be visiting Umberlee, the ***** queen of the depths right quick"
Dornin tries to keep his legs steady on this boat as they all approach the large vessel, unsure to make what comes next. He pushes his hands through the lengths of his hair to dry as much sea water out as possible trying not to seem nervous in front of his friends. In a low tone he speaks,
"As of right now, our path is set. I think it is fair to say that these sailors are our only way to get to Isbiel and we can't turn back now. Octo is right, keep the truth close to our chest and and give light details, perhaps if we offer some coin, they may look the other way for taking us with them. If this meeting turns deadly, our fate is sealed as we will be caught adrift on that vessel with no way to navigate the sea, so it's best we do as we are told."
Dornin spends the remaining time squeezing the water out of his robes trying to dry off as the cold ocean air bites at his wet elven skin. He tries to keep his composer when being stared down by the ship's crew, attempting to come off as fearless even though he is terrified to what comes next leaving his hands to shake at his side.
Kallith uses her staff to try and shove the boat along the pier towards Chandle, so they may both get closer to Octo and the struggling dwarf. If it seems like this may take too much time or the progress is hindered in some way, she unstraps the rope from her pack and throws it to Chandle and Molly.
Kallith makes the row boat first. Powerful strokes propelling her through the water. Reaching out with her staff she tries to hook the boat. Nothing stands out to lodge the staff into, and no hook on the end of the wooden shaft makes it even harder. A few more strokes however brings her close enough to throw the staff and her arm over, hanging from the gunnel. Kicking to push the boat towards Chandle, she is prevented by the lead. Attached to the back of the boat and tied to the piers it holds the boat in place, an old and frayed rope. Chandle reaches the boat somehow, sputtering and trying not to gulp water in her panicked state..
Octo crash's through the mob. His warmth, his smell, his life and activity draws the attention of the mob. They turn to intercept as the large minotaur thrashes his horns and tries to drive through the mob to the boat. A loud crash, the wood beneath his feet ripples as the crane twists and smashes into the pier. Wood splinters with a rent and screech, the previous 15' of pier smashed in to the waters below. One of the Walking dead goes with it. Octo suffers a couple swipes as he rushes forward, the Pier disintegrating beneath him he leaps for the boat.
Octo, Make an Athletics or Acrobatics check. The pier is falling apart as the crane smashes into and through the wooden slats he was just standing on. DC 13
If he succeed....
Octo, sprints forward, the wood ripple under him as he barrels through the mob of dead, several of them try to prevent him from leaping into the boat, swiping, tearing and gnashing at him as he passes, yet he continues and makes the boat with a few bloody gashes...
Walking dead attack against Octo: Attack: 15 Damage: 5
Walking dead attack against Octo: Attack: 21 Damage: 3
Walking dead attack against Octo: Attack: 17 Damage: 3
Walking dead attack against Octo: Attack: 10 Damage: 5
If Octo fails the check...
Not quick enough, the Dead block his passage forward, the crane twists with a loud wrenching screech of torn wood and metal. It, almost in slow motion, reaches its boom out over the water then falls, engulfing the pier and Octo, standing upon it. The cold briny water rushes up to greet him, the weight of the crane driving him down, down, towards the bay floor. And a swarm of dead, leaping and scuttling to rend him from this life.
Crane falling on Octo : 2 Bludgeon damage. He is pushed under the water. The black hull and flailing legs of his companions above him. The Blonde girl is floating beneath the waves, kicking at several dead trying to grab and pull her down. One of the Dead, leaping from the sea floor below reaches a cold, swollen, brine soaked arm to grab Octo's leg. Its talons straining to tear, and to grip and pull him under.
Walking (Swimming) dead attack against Octo: Attack: 11 Damage: 4 Grapple : 21
If the Dead hits with the attack it attempts to grapple Octo.
Chandle thrashes, panic keeping her movements chaotic, and dangerous. Pulled through the water, the blonde girl has disappeared beneath the waves. Somehow the dwarf, pushed, pulled, and held above water makes it to the boat as the girl, fades beneath the surface, only the moon casting its light across its unbroken surface. No way a person can hold their breath, and exert themselves to push another to safety. Great gasps come to Chandle, her grip, like Iron yet tenuous upon the edge of the boat. Her legs kick frantically to stay aloft. Somehow, pushed, pulled and shoved above the waves, she reaches and grabs the rail of the row boat. Gasps of salty brine and swallowed water taxing her strength.
Molly struggles, but manages to keep the Dwarf's head above water, at the cost of her own. Pushed and held beneath the surface by a struggling dwarf. Kicking with powerful strokes but not used to the exertion she watches the dark bobbing shape of the boats hull getting closer. A darkness against the silver cast surface. The waves are beautiful from beneath, the water a calm, flirtatious embrace. She is becoming tired, her legs growing numb with each kick. The weight and thrashing of the dwarf taking its toll. Molly notices the Walking dead do not die, or end their existence beneath the waves. Several have fallen in and sunk, not quite walking along the bottom they seem to push up and forward then slowly fall back several feet away. The look is surreal, the dead appear almost weightless, partially floating from one leap to another. A couple of them have gotten close, just beneath the boat. Chandle grabs the rail just in time as they leap upward and attempt to grab the girls legs.
Walking dead attack against Molly: Attack: 12 Damage: 2 Grapple check: 6
If it hits it attempts to grab her and pull her deeper. grappled. The grapple check follows the attack.
Dornin has swam before. But this is no gentle calm woodland lake, it is not a sun soaked beach of sand and steady waves. Dornin has never swam in dead infested brine, a haunted town, a questionable reception ahead. Dornin cleaves through the waves, adrenalin and desperation pushing him on. The rail of the boat feels cool under his grip. A sailor he is not but even he feels alarm when, Kallith, Chandle and himself grip the same rail. The gunnel dips, nearly becoming submerged and capsizing the small vessel. Leaning dangerously a wave laps over the edge, too many and it will sink to the bottom of the shallow bay.
With the three of you clinging to the boats rails, the Dead shuffle to the edge of the pier and tumble off with no rail to stop them. First one, then another, and a third. Each of them tumble, walking off the pier with no next step to take, they crash into the bottom of the hull. Prone but not for long, the three dead will stand, and drive you into the waves or gnash at the disadvantaged companions, clinging desperately to the rail. The remaining dead upon the pier will follow within moments, their shuffling steps taking them to the edge, and over into the boat. Soon it will be crowded with the Walking dead, no place for the living.
Athletics: 6
Octo runs to the boat, but his feet get caught up in a barnacle encrusted rope and he falls face first into the dock. He stands, but before he can get started again, the dock explodes around him as a large crane crashed into it, clipping his shoulder, and sending him careening into the cold sea.
In the water, the dead reach for him but are unable to get hold of him. He notices the girl, under water and under attack, and swims towards her to help.
🥀Molly Munchausen🌊
As the Rhinemaiden suddenly found herself amidst a desperate struggle beneath the waves. The brackish, dark, and cold bay water was her domain, yet the relentless undead had even breached this sanctuary.
Her heart pounding in her ears, Molly unleashed the arcane fury she commanded. With a flick of her wrist and a whispered incantation that sounded like the murmur of the deep sea, she conjured an Eldritch Blast. The energy crackled through the water, a streak of luminescent terror aiming to push back the groping dead. She summoned a Tentacle of the Deep almost simultaneously—a manifestation of her pact with Brineheart.
The spectral tentacle, a ghastly appendage of deep-sea lore, thrashed violently at the undead assailant. Molly’s intentions were clear: she sought not to linger for a fight but to create a momentary barrier, a chance to escape her pursuers' clutches. Her mind, a maelstrom of panic and madness, was singularly focused on the simple yet vital goal—to swim away, to distance herself from the ghastly fingers that sought to drag her into the abyss of undeath.
OOC:
Eldritch Blast Attack To Hit: 6 Damage: 4 (Action)
Tentacle of the Deeps Attack to Hit: 16 Damage: 3 (Bonus Action)
Movement: If possible, Molly's intention is to Swim 40' away from her attacker at her full moment, hoping her attacks might allow her to do so. If she is able to move away, if she runs across any of her companions, she will seek to help them get to the boat. Either way, she will maintain the Tentacle of the Deep should she still be caught up in combat the following round.
Chandle grabs the boat sees the zombies threatening to overload and sink the vessel and with a surge of adrenaline reaches with her free hand to destroy or at least knock them out of the boat.
Bonus action the scimitar of deaths embrace appears in her free hand.
Action attack a zombie (disadvantage) 12 damage 8.
Object Interaction rock the boat trying to shake a zombie out.
Movement climb into the boat.
Kallith desperately grips the corner of the boat, not being able to get a good hold to pull herself up. All she can do is switch to the other side and hope the wood stabilized enough so an ascend could be attempted by someone lighter than her. Saltwater in her troat, she coughs. She curses and gets even more saltwater in her mouth. Between the biting water and the narrow vision granted by the adrenaline, she can see the dead falling over each other to get into the boat, already filling it up. Her mind wasn't used to pessimism, but at this moment she saw no way out for the group. Her mind screamed at her: 'Staying here means death.'
(OoC: I'm not sure how much of the pier has collapsed and where. The following assumes that the pier next to the boat is still standing).
In desperation, the druid pushes off the boat and clings to the support beams of the pier, the slick material not serving as a good handhold. But it would be enough: from one moment to the next, Kallith is a squirrel again, sinking its tiny claws into the damp wood much easier, scrambling up. Her heart imitates a rapid hammerbeat. She desperately for a place where she can see the undead better and get in a position to potentially shove them into the water and stop them from approaching the boat.
Dornin struggles keeping himself above the dark water, constantly spitting out the salty sea with every breath he takes. Seeing the boat tethered to a post on the dock by the brittle rope keeping it in place, he fills his lungs with air once more and forces himself over to the post to untie it. With the now harsh waves from all the disruptions, it makes it difficult for him to try and loosen the knot, in frustration, he places his hand amongst the rope and calls to his fiendish powers to destroy it where the rope meets the docks. (Eldritch Blast:9 Force damage) His eyes dart around looking to see everyone's position, he looks to Octo seeing he nearly dodged death from the fallings crane. Attempting to hold the ledge of the dock and the rope of the boat at the same time, he calls out to him "Octo! I do not know how much longer I can hold this, hurry!"
Dornin is growing tired, unsure how much more he can keep up swimming like this, he hopes the Chandle and their new found friend can make it to the boat. He knows if he gets too tired, he can simply hold to the rope and float if needed, but these undead may eat him alive.
Kallith scurries up the dank wood, a little chirp unbidden doesn't distract the dead from shambling towards the boat. She finds herself scampering up the rail beside the stairs.
Molly swims with powerful strokes through the water, still beneath the waves she glances back. The tentacles have harried a few but others continue to bound across the sea floor towards her. Her distance, and depth prevent them from reaching her. They cant swim, instead drifting back to the floor and leaping feebly, their bloated arms reaching unsuccessfully from the depths below.
Dornin pulls himself up the pillar, the swollen twine molded into place. Barnacles sealing the knot into a mass of hard rough cuticle. The Blast does more than burn up the knot. The pillar cracks and shudders. The pier above sags alarmingly throwing a Dead over his shoulder, plunging past Dornin into the drink. A loud groan of tearing wood, swollen beams creaking. Unable to hold on, the whole structure tips, the Dead lurch and tumble from its tilting edge dropping one by one into the waves below. With a screech and a horrendous din the pier breaks from its supports and crashes. Waves rock the little vessel, pushing it outward into the bay. Dornin clings to the rope, struggling to stay afloat as the wooden pier falls atop him.
Chandle grips the rail, it dips as the three Dead climb to their feet, no understanding of the proper use of a boat. They lurch towards the Dwarf perilously clinging. The boat tips, ejecting one over the Dwarfs shoulder. A quick thrust of her scimitar and a flick sends a second into the depths. The third rises and with bony claws, the flesh peeled back from bone it sinks the claws into her hands, trying to dislodge the iron grip.
The Walking Dead, bony claws against Chandle: Attack: 12 Damage: 5
Octo is pushed down, down into the water. The falling crane and smashed pier driving him under the waves. As a glancing blow brings a flush of blood, attracting the dead to his presence. The dark, impoentrable beneath the waves disorients the Minotaur. The labyrinth had springs, and a small pool beneath a falling water, but they were for bathing. Nothing like this was in his experience. The water was deep, and in the twilight he couldn't tell which way was up. Weightless he floated, tumbling. his only salvation the Dead upon the floor below. He thrusts with his hands, kicking with his feet just thinking, up.
Damage:5
Beneath the murky waters near the docks of Port Llast, the Rhinemaiden swam with a grace that belied her frazzled state of mind. The cold embrace of the sea was a sanctuary, a whisper of the vast, unfathomable depths that her patron, Brineheart, governed. As Molly navigated through the shadowy waters, the ragged doll Nettles, inside her backpack, murmured incessantly. The doll's sibilant whispers guide the Rhinemaiden with a strange sense of purpose through the underwater gloom. The doll's voice, unnervingly clear beneath the waves, instructed her with a secretive urgency that seemed to pulse with the rhythm of the tides.
Encouraged by Nettles’ whispered stratagems, Molly moved stealthily towards the area where she had first entered the water, her movements almost spectral in the dim light filtering down from above. The silhouettes of the docks loomed ahead, a skeletal reminder of the world above, haunted by more than just the undead. As she reached a point just beneath the surface, near where the wooden pillars of the dock began, Molly paused. Her eyes, wide and reflecting a tumult of madness and revelation, scanned the dark waters around her, firstly taking note of the locations of the Walking Dead both above and below the water, always keeping an eye on them, and secondly, trying to keep an eye on her allies as best she is able.
Then, with a practiced gesture, the Rhinemaiden cast the cantrip Minor Illusion. Molly focused not on a visual trick but on an auditory one—she conjured the sonorous peal of the temple bell she had rung earlier in her makeshift refuge. She amplified the sound, making it resonate above the water into the haunted air of Port Llast. The bell's deep, resonant tones, artificially replicated by her magic, rang out in an attempt to draw the nearby undead towards the ringing of the bell and away, albeit temporarily, from her allies. The sound of the rich and ominous bell filled the area, echoing off and hopefully reaching the ears of the shambling horrors on the docks and in the water.
OOC: Hopefully, Molly, with her 40' movement rate in the water coupled with her Devil's sight that allows her to see normally in darkness, both magical and nonmagical, to a distance of 120 ft., should be able to easily see both beneath and on the water to avoid any Walking Dead from getting to close to her. The map I've supplied is NOT DM-approved; it's not official, but it is only a guestimate in very general terms. Designed more to show Molly's location (the mermaid icon) around where she is casting her Minor Illusion of the bell sound above the surface of the water just as loud as she is able, moving the sound to and fro as needed as her fishing lure. Using it to draw the Walking Away and hopefully provide a chance for the others to get on the boat and head out to the open sea.
How I see it. The line between deep water and shallow is the difference between the underwater dead able to reach and grab a character at the surface. The pier is gone, the boat adrift with Chandle gripping its rail and Dornin clutching the rope. Kallith is atop the tairs watching te whole structure unravel. Octo is struggling to surface.
OOC: Having a better idea of everyone's location relative to each other Molly will instead immediately make her way to Octo and assist him back up to the surface and help him to swim to the boat weaving between any Walking Dead between them and the boat.
Kallith turns back into a firbolg, hands clasping around the railing, staring at the collapsing section of the pier in front of her, the foaming water and her friends fighting with the row boat and undead. She sees Molly stroking her way over to Octo and the other two drifting away.
She is breathing heavily, having forced her body through rapid transformations. All she can do is pick up a few debris of wood and metal pieces and enchant them with magic stone to have some ammunition to throw at the undead.
Molly swims to Octo's aid. Despite the fact the Minotaur is larger than the Dwarf, and heavier, his natural athleticism lends him strength as he paddles towards the rowboat. Stowing the stones Kallith dives into the waves once again and makes her way to the drifting boat before it slowly makes it way too far into the Bay.
Chandle flicks the last of the Dead over the rail and into the drink. As your group clambers into the rowboat you collapse, the tumultuousness of the last hour, the race through the dead infested town, the struggles at the dock, inhaled brine has left you winded. The stars above twinkle with promise. The clouds have moved on revealing a near full moon, the light of Selune casting the world in a glorious silver luminescence.
Of the three schooners moored in the bay you spotted an hour ago, only one remains. The vessel with Isbiel aboard has already set sail out to sea, nearly disappearing towards the horizon. The second vessel follows close behind, leaving the last schooner, still moored nearby. Several lanterns illuminate its deck with three men standing against the rail and watching. The larger of the three bellows across the water, "Get a move on girl, get over here, now"
You came to rescue Isbiel, this schooner and its captain are a part of the group that snatched her, you wonder what kind of reception you are to receive.
🥀Molly Munchausen🌊
In the chilling embrace of Port Llast's murky waters, the Rhinemaiden clung to the faint whispers of Nettles, her enigmatic guide through the tumultuous undead sea. Despite her weary limbs from the relentless swimming about, she moved with the grace of a creature born to the depths, empowered by her pact with Brineheart, who had cursed her but also lent her strength when she needed it the most. Approaching the shadow of the last ship in the bay, her heart pounded with frenzied excitement, not of fear, but of the exhilarating joy that always danced at the edges of her fractured mind, a wild and absurd delight that was as mysterious as the sea she traversed.
Above water, the world was filled with noise and struggle, but beneath the waves, a haunting silence hummed with the calls of the deep. Nettles' voice, a thread of sanity woven through the cacophony of Mad Molly's thoughts, urged her onward, the doll's murmurs blending with the water swirling around her, a sound only she could hear, or at least she thought so. The Rhinemaiden signaled her new companions to row towards the last ship, where it was evident from the expressions on her face and the ship's captain that they were well acquainted.
As the silhouette of the Siren's Folly loomed against the moonlit sky, Molly's fingers grasped the rough wood of the ladder, pulling her exhausted form from the water's cold embrace. As she clambered onto the deck, her clothes clinging to her like seaweed, her breath coming in ragged gasps that spoke of her exertions. There, her captain stood, a figure of commanding presence, his voice booming across the deck, urging her to hasten as though the winds might obey his command. As she stood before him, the Rhinemaiden retrieved something from her backpack, a worn and faded waterproof seal-skin satchel. With a chaotic giggle that belied the gravity of her mission, Molly approached, the worn satchel heavy in her grasp. Within it lay the prize for which so much had been risked, which she quickly handed over to the captain.
Her gaze, wild and unsteady, swept the deck where the remnants of her crew should have been. "Deine sea dogs schlafen mit the fishes," she declared, a macabre note of glee threading through her words, a morbid giggle escaping her lips. "But fürchte nicht, for I bring thee frische Hände." Her laughter, tinged with the edge of lunacy, echoed across the deck as she stood by her captain, awaiting his command; her duty was fulfilled, yet her fate, like the night-tossed sea, was ever uncertain.
The firbolg watches the leading ship sail away with incredible speed and her heart sinks. It seemed like they were always too late, no matter how much haste they made. She didn't trust this remaining ship either. Did it belong to the Ibn Altair? Why was this girl leading them there?
Kallith looks sidelong at the others as Molly ascends the creaking ladder to the ship, speaking low enough that the sound of the waves and the creaking of the ship would mask them to the people up on deck. "What's the plan? This ship was part of the same group as the one who took Isbiel. It might be dangerous. I'm out of ideas."
Octo nods at Kallith in agreement, keeping his voice low.
“I think its best if we are ‘careful’ with what we share here. I’m not sure we could have gotten out of the city without this girl, but I’m not ready to thank her yet, as I’m not sure where she led us. Let’s look for signs of Bhaal worship on this boat and see if we can talk to this girl alone?”
“We can say we came to Port Llast to investigate rumors of the undead, but were not prepared for the sheer number of them? Maybe not the most impressive lie, but its what I can think of on the fly.”
The captain snatches the seal skin from the tiny girls hands. Her height barely half the towering man, he could fit her into his thigh muscle. He glowers, a simmering anger always just beneath the surface. he lifts his hand ever so, a threat, a promise. "Where my crew girl, why you not with them!" he growls. His eyes narrow, he already knows the answer 'This better be worth it or you'll be joinin them." He lifts the satchel up, giving it a shake for understanding.
Turning to and gazing down into the rowboat, at the four ragtag, exhausted members of your group still bobbing gently on the water. "What have you brought home Molly, a bunch of drowned rats. You stupid girl thinking they replace a skilled crew." he looks back to the town, a glance out to sea. With a broad smile growing upon his large flat face "Well an opportunity for us all, a change of fate" He tussles the blonde mop and says "well come aboard then, don't look like you got much choice". He gestures to the magnificence of his ship. "We got a few rules on board this vessel, first ones first, you do what I say, or you be visiting Umberlee, the ***** queen of the depths right quick"
Dornin tries to keep his legs steady on this boat as they all approach the large vessel, unsure to make what comes next. He pushes his hands through the lengths of his hair to dry as much sea water out as possible trying not to seem nervous in front of his friends. In a low tone he speaks,
"As of right now, our path is set. I think it is fair to say that these sailors are our only way to get to Isbiel and we can't turn back now. Octo is right, keep the truth close to our chest and and give light details, perhaps if we offer some coin, they may look the other way for taking us with them. If this meeting turns deadly, our fate is sealed as we will be caught adrift on that vessel with no way to navigate the sea, so it's best we do as we are told."
Dornin spends the remaining time squeezing the water out of his robes trying to dry off as the cold ocean air bites at his wet elven skin. He tries to keep his composer when being stared down by the ship's crew, attempting to come off as fearless even though he is terrified to what comes next leaving his hands to shake at his side.
Octo mutters to himself in a language he has not spoken before this group (minotaur).
I'm not sure how this doesn't end well for one of us ... captain. Umberlee will embrace you in her depths, or myself in my failure.