This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Octo finds the labor therapeutic, relaxing. "I think you have a knack for this" states Skit. The two fall into an easy rhythm of Octo hoisting the heavy sails with Skit doing the more intricate work of tying the ropes off. Soon enough the boat catches the wind and lurches into motion. "We'll make a sailor of you yet"
Kallith rummages around the Captains quarters, finding a couple metal and glass instruments, taking all three, a long thin one with glass on either end. another that has a stand and points downward, it appears to belong sitting on a table. The third has a half circle, engraved with small lines and strange numbers.
Dornin is just finishing with the dishes when a small pop can be heard from the other room. Chandle, left alone turns to the long thin box she retrieved from the Captains quarters. There is no visible lock. She uses her dagger to pry the lid just a crack spotting a thin sliver of wood, it appears out of place. Reaching for her tools, a small pair of shears would probably do the job she thinks. The boat lurches forward, her hand slips, the thin sliver of wood snaps. A puff of greenish acrid gas puffs into her face. A last parting gift of the Captain. A poisonous trap on his personal chest.
(Investigation 14+0 and Disable trap[thieves tools] Nat 1, rolled on character sheet)
Chandle coughs as her throat and nose burn. Con save DC 12 vs poison. 12 Poison damage, half on save.
If Chandle is still conscious
The Chest contains an assortment of personal items and mementos. A gold chain, A red gem studded ring, A wooden toy horse, a wedding band of simple gold, and a pair of earrings with flecks of obsidian. A small box contains an assortment of coins. There origins are varied, some with busts stamped on one side or strange beasts. Most are gold with a few platinum and silver (224gp). A small black leather bound book. 4 small metal vials, and a tiny stoppered glass jar with dragon motif.
If Chandle falls unconscious
The poison wont kill you. You recover several hours later but wake with exhaustion (Level 1) from the ordeal.
The Schooner is under way. Sheela and Skit are up to the task of piloting the vessel to your destination.
Take a Long rest if you wish when you are done exploring your surroundings.
In the dim cavern, the hooded figure stands surrounded by scattered candles, their light casting eerie shadows on the walls. The air crackles with energy as the man’s intonations echo, forming wisps of gray smoke that rise from the flames. Gradually, a vaguely humanoid shape emerges—the head and shoulders solidify, while the lower body remains a turbulent vapor.
The cloaked man steps forward, his words swallowed by the swirling smoke. “We have retrieved the girl, Lord,” he murmurs.
The phantom, neither deep-voiced nor feminine, responds, “Excellent. Prepare her for the ritual. It must be executed precisely as I taught you—failure is not an option.”
“Yes, Lord,” the cloaked man replies, hesitating only briefly. “There was another group, Lord. They arrived at the ranch just after we secured the girl.”
The apparition leans closer. “What of this other group? Have they been dealt with? Do you know their identity?”
“They followed us to Port Llast and boarded the Siren’s Folly,” the cloaked man explains. “The Captain was instructed to eliminate them.”
The phantom considers. “This Captain—alone against a group. Do you believe he succeeded?”
“He is formidable,” the cloaked man assures. “I’m confident they’ve been taken care of. As for their origin, my agents in the keep would have alerted me if Loristan was aware of our actions.”
“Another player upon the board,” the apparition murmurs, its form dissolving back into smoke. “I will investigate. Have her prepared.” The cavern grows still, the candles flickering as if in acknowledgment of the unseen forces at play.
Kallith inspects the metal instruments with some confusion. Why would someone need these things with the twiddly bits and the screws? At least the cylinder with lenses on either side seemed straightforward enough. The firbolg holds it up to her eye, looking through. Alas, no spying, no farseeing.
The druid scratches her head. She turns around. "Chandle do you know how to use thi-" "CHANDLE!"
Depending on Chandles state, Kallith will either drag her out or support her to leave the cabin as quickly as possible. "What happened?"
Chandle is very sick coming out of unconsciousness, she will write rather then speak as her respiration is raw and burning, she writes, “Sorry just checking an obviously important package turns out it was trapped!”
Dornin will spend the rest of the day(s) reading his literature and cooking meals for the group. Additionally, he thinks back on his memories of the Captain. The details in his face, clothes and accent. Dornin practices his magic disguises as the Captain to be sure he can trick whoever is at the end of our destination.
This post has potentially manipulated dice roll results.
Chandle succumbs to the poison coursing though her veins. A night of shivering despite several blankets and the sweats that come form it has her rising exhausted. Sheela laughs when Kallith brings every optical device but shows her how to use the Telescope properly.
The seas are calm with a stiff wind pushing the schooner at a quick pace. The suns rising paints the open water with a warm gentle glow. Sheela excuses herself and dissapears for several hours into the First mates cabin. As the morning stretches on Kallith returns again and again to the telescope, nothing but blue seas and open skies. Sometime around lunch, you know because Dornin calls for another meal, so many you would think he's a halfling. Kallith spots a black speck on the horizon.
Skit, the young man nearly done, slumping against the wheel retrieves the sleeping Sheela, but doesn't return. Chandle, tired has found a small corner to inspect the items retrieved from the Captains quarters. Too tired to help with the sails or other sailing tasks.
"Let me see that will ya Kallith" she takes the scope and gazes upon the island for a few moments. "Not sure how you want to do this. Shall we sail around the island before deciding. I have never been here" She hands the telescope back to the firbolg and looks upon the group questioningly.
The island sits at the end of a chain of tiny atolls and majestic peaks rising unbidden from the salty brine. An ancient, once strong fortification broods over the rocky shores below. The towers, once manned for security or conflict now host nesting sea birds. They wheel and screech over the sea in great whooping circles.
The once mighty walls have begun to crumble from the onslaught of constant wind and salt. Not a soul appears to move upon the distant ramparts, or have to traversed the island for some time. The island is not large, a mile from end to end and half that across.
Kallith Perception check 18, if you succeed, open this spoiler
A large rusty portcullis stands half open at the crumbling gate to the keeps interior. Within the shadows a feline beast gazes out to sea. It disappears as quickly as it appeared.
Chandle
The drawer under the window does indeed hold a false bottom. A bottom with a pair of vials, one an oily purple viscous liquid, the other a light blue sparkly concoction. A small dagger and a coiled and tied with hemp twine wrap of scrolls with arcane writings.
The potions are Purple: potion of speed and Light blue: Elixir of health
The small dagger carries a strong enchantment, it is a +1 dagger of poison (1/ Long rest it causes a foe to make a COn save DC 12 or become poisoned
The scrolls are all rituals: Prayer of healing, Detect magic, and Find familiar (They are all single use as normal scrolls)
The Chest contains an assortment of personal items and mementos. A gold chain, A red gem studded ring, A wooden toy horse, a wedding band of simple gold, and a pair of earrings with flecks of obsidian. A small box contains an assortment of coins. There origins are varied, some with busts stamped on one side or strange beasts. Most are gold with a few platinum and silver (224gp). A small black leather bound book. 4 small metal vials, and a tiny stoppered glass jar with dragon motif.
The 4 small vials are all healing potions
The leather bound book is stamped with the intitals G.R. The pages are crisp yellow with age and crumble when mishandled. The inner cover is drawn beautifully with an ocean view, islands and shoreline etched with squid ink. Several obscure marks and symbols are randomly placed upon the page. No clue to what they represent. The books itself is written in a tight scrawl, words so tiny they are almost unreadable, each piled upon the next. The language is not recognizable. (To you)
Chandle is excited by the discovery of such an assortment of potions and items she gathers everyone and shares what she has found, asking about the items she is unsure of.
Chandle realizes as she shakes off the lingering effects of the poison that she has awakened something in her. Her self awareness is extended, as if she was in her body but now her body is in her, strange. Her mind too feels for the first time as if the curtains have been opened… as she tries to understand she feels blades of ‘glass’ extend from her hands this at first scares her, but then she remembers feeling these abilities just hidden within her all along. When she calls everyone her mind goes one step further she telepathically opens a link to Molly and Kallith for 3 hours, <It seems our minds are connected Molly some of the Captains personal effects should go to you. Kallith thank you for taking such good care of me, I’m honestly not sure what happened.>
Kallith checks on Chandle a few times during the travels, but is relieved that the dwarv eventually recovers from the ordeal. Looking at the potions, she scratches her head. "I hope it isn't more poison. I can have a look."
The druid then uses her herbalism kit and proficiency to try and ascertain the nature of the four vials and the stoppered jar with the dragon motif. [Not sure if check is needed, but just in case: [medicine: 15, nature: 13]
She somewhat sheepishly, learns the correct operation of the spy glass from Sheela, mumbling something about "that's not very intuitive", but getting the hang of it quickly. The firbolg then spends a good amount of time on deck with the farseeing instrument by her side, observing the waves and clouds. Over time, she feels a connection, as if her goddess were watching her from above.
The state of daydreaming came natural to Kallith. Sometimes she seems awake, standing on deck, her eyes open. But her mind is floating, traveling, exploring, sensing.
When the whalebones and the fort finally come into view, she is extatic. Land! As she briefly sees something moving in the fort, she lets the others know: "There is some kind of cat in these ruins. Perhaps some wild beast. We should be careful when approaching. I haven't seen any of the abductors so far. We should sail around the island and see if the two other ships are even here. As much as I would like to step on solid ground right this moment."
Feeling the sudden connection with Chandle, her eyes go wide. "What a <strange>way of<communi>cating!", having not quite got the hang of it, alternating between spoken and thought words.
Octo lies on his hammock. He found the largest one he could, and it was still too small. But it works, when the boat rocks to the port side, he can place his left foot on the floor, and when it rocks to the starboard, his right.
He has stuck to busy work, learning the ins and outs of sailing from Skit and Sheela. He is happy to have the others look over the potions, maps, books, and belongings of the crew as he has little interest in those things.
He lays there, anxious, lost in his own thoughts. He left his home below to make a name for himself in the lands above, but it seems like every choice in the last few days has been made for him. Now he finds himself on the open sea, water as far as he can see in every direction. Is this the correct path? Am I off course? he can't help but wonder, as he begins to falls asleep.
Octo is falling. Free falling through nothingness. He reaches out for anything, but there is nothing to grab, and nothing to see. The sensation is the opposite of calming, leaving him feeling nervous and helpless. Eventually the darkness brightens to a dull blue, but still there is nothing to see and nothing to grab hold of. Just falling. Helplessness.
With no warning, he is submerged in ice cold, dark water. Unseen hands grabbing at him from below, trying to pull him down. He tries to swim, but the hands are stronger then him. As his strength finally gives out, more hands grab at him, but this time from above. Strong hands. Hands like his, Minotaur hands. They pull him out of the water and into light.
He wakes up with a start and almost falls out of the little hammock. He can hear the others, laughing somewhere on the Siren’s Folly.
“Perhaps I am on the correct path.” he says to himself, then adds “I wonder if Dornin has been cooking anything, I’m starving!”
Rising to his feet, he knows he is not alone. Not just because of his friends on the boat, but because he knows his ancestors are nearby, watching approvingly.
On the deck of the Siren's Folly, the air was thick with the salt of the sea and the silent tension of unspoken thoughts. The Rhinemaiden, often perceived as a marionette danced by the unseen hands of madness, found herself adrift in the currents of her own chaotic mind. Molly's consciousness was ensnared in a far more ethereal dialogue as the world around her buzzed with the mundane concerns of life and survival.
Lost in a telepathic exchange that blurred the lines between reality and delusion, Molly murmured softly to the unseen, her telepathic voice barely a whisper over the ocean's breeze, "Halt deinen Atem an... Halt deinen Atem an..." The response, carried on the same intangible waves, was a siren's telepathic eerie beauty song chilling in its serenity from the 'other': "Take it in while you can... On the edge of it all... Feel the wind... Awake my skin... On the edge of it all... I feel it coming... Hold your breath, don't let go... I feel it coming... Hold your breath, don't let go... I feel it coming..."
Unbeknownst to her, Chandle's thoughts pierced through the veil of Molly's isolated world, suggesting a connection forged by circumstance, "It seems our minds are connected, Molly some of the Captain's personal effects should go to you."The words floated through Molly's awareness like flotsam on the waves, initially unnoticed amidst the storm of her internal symphony.
As Molly's eyes, glistening with the sheen of unshed tears, locked onto Chandle, there was a palpable shift in the air. The Rhinemaiden, a creature of impulse and whim, responded not with words but with the arcane whisper of magic. With a flicker of her fingers and a twist of her lips, using Minor Illusion, she conjured an illusion—a child's wooden toy horse perched precariously on the railing. It stood as a testament to her desires, simple yet profound, echoing her connection to the memories of the Captain. This toy, a symbol of innocence lost and cherished dreams, was all she sought amidst the detritus of life now concluded.
This image, manifested from the depths of Molly's turbulent psyche, was more than a mere request; it was a window into the labyrinth of her mind, where each corridor echoed with the laughter of ghosts and the whispers of the deep. As the spectral horse gazed out over the ocean, its presence was a silent sentinel to Molly's enduring dance with chaos, each step a fragile tread upon the thin line between reality and the abyss.
OOC:
Sorcerer Telepathic Speech 1st-level Aberrant Mind feature
You can form a telepathic connection between your mind and the mind of another. As a bonus action, choose one creature you can see within 30 feet of you. You and the chosen creature can speak telepathically with each other while the two of you are within a number of miles of each other equal to your Charisma modifier (minimum of 1 mile). To understand each other, you each must speak mentally in a language the other knows.
The telepathic connection lasts for a number of minutes equal to your sorcerer level. It ends early if you are incapacitated or die or if you use this ability to form a connection with a different creature.
Dornin continues chopping vegetables and plopping them into a simmering pot for soup, adding herbs and spices in as necessary. He takes a spoonful “Perfect” he says as he turns to inform the others. Walking up to the stairs to go above deck, a pain sinks itself into his mind like a dagger. “Danger waits for you ahead, my child, and you will need all the help you can get. Read!” Dornin pulls the bindings off his book at his hip and opens it violently and begins to see the infernal writing take place, scratching the parchment in red ink. Knowledge floods his mind uncontrollably, magic and enchantments forcefully probe his mind. It suddenly stops and Dornin has free will again as the words in the tome fade into the pages. He slams it shut, but it looks different now. What was once simple leather, now has the features of black snake skin with an infernal sigil on the cover. He straps it back on to his waist and carries on up the stairs.
Dornin walks past Octo at his hammock. “Food is ready my friend, have at it” he says with a warm smile, trying to conceal the pain from just moments ago. He walks over to Kallith, Molly and Chandle, picking up on something odd happening between them. (Insight:15) Based on their eye contact and Kallith’s speaking pattern, he assumed they were speaking telepathically. Dornin wonders what they may be conversing about, but it’s non of his business and interrupts them for a moment. “Soup is ready, I made extra assuming we may not have the most fantastic culinary experience on this island here” He gestures off the side of the boat. “I would hurry though, I already told Octo and he seems eager. Someone his size might be able to down the whole pot.” Dornin looks back down at the tome on his hip. It feels different now, stronger than before. No longer a book, but a doorway.
The salty sea air clung to Sheela’s skin as she deftly maneuvered the vessel. The groaning timbers echoed the struggle against the relentless waves. Skits, equally skilled, secured the knots, and the sails billowed, propelling them forward. With only a lone mast, they circled the island cautiously, maintaining a safe distance.
Sheela’s voice carried over the wind, her gaze fixed on the rugged island. “Kallith,” she called, “we can’t risk the shoals. I think you need to take the boat in.” As the island revealed itself, its jagged cliffs and weather-worn stones stood defiant against the sea. Two beaches, linked by a valley that cut into the heart of the land, lie on either side of the saddled hills. Like two sisters embracing the twin peaks had seen better days. Worn to nubs and topped with a crumbling keep. They sat as a sentinel at the entrance to the 'Whalebones'.
Two other beach heads presented opportunity. They sat opposite each other on the larger of the two peaks. Rugged cliffs, climbing upward to loom over the sea. The main keep standing sentinel over a hundred feet above.The other two Schooners are no where to be seen. Kallith scans the horizon out to sea but finds no evidence of their passing. No Rowboat remains pulled ashore on any of the four beaches. If it had been abandoned to drift it would still be bobbing in the surf nearby.
A small island sat just off shore. A testament to the dangers that lurked beneath the waves for a foolish sailor to test their fates against. Upon the Island a trio of Dolmen stood, a darker material than the local offerings, the carved stones thrust towards the sky defiant. The central stone stood larger and grander next to the smaller flanking stones.
Make a perception check If you succeed, open the appropriate spoiler.
DC 12
Off the South Western beach head lie the masts of broken vessels, sunk beneath the waves. Just to the North lies the answer to this grave yard. A cave opening, deep as night sits beneath the main keep. Half way up the sheer cliff face. A platform, crumbling with neglect, threatens to toss a pair of derelict ballista into the sea. They sit slumped, saddened by their disuse.
DC 15
The easiest landings, the four beaches, do not appear to have been disturbed. Not by Humanoid step or passage, any time recently. Kallith pointed out the Feline presence at the Main entrance to the Keep. A group of several large crabs, larger than the average dog are fighting each other on the North western beach (D).
DC 18
As the ship glides past the ancient tower on the Eastern side, a shimmer in the rock captures your attention. The folds of stone, pressed together like dough before solidifying into the curtain wall you see today, create an illusion. When you look back the way you came, from just the right angle, the secret reveals itself: a vast sea cave opens into the interior, its waters shimmering with the light of numerous fires. Before slipping past, the ship continuing its circumnavigation, you catch sight of a wooden buildings within the cave. Supported by posts and scaffolding, they cling to the walls, and each other, one built atop another, connected by platforms and rope bridges. Two vessels, sails lowered, rest idly in the cave’s confines, while people move through the labyrinthine byways and rickety paths
Onboard the Siren's Folly, Molly's gaze remained transfixed on the spectral dance of light and shadow along the island's cliffside. As the ship edged cautiously around the island, her perception, sharpened not by clarity but by a frenetic attunement to her own chaotic senses gifted with both Devil’s and Eldritch Sight by her Fathomless Patron Brineheart Molly caught the elusive shimmer of something hidden—a vast sea cave veiled by the island's stony façade.
The Rhinemaiden, enthralled by the sight and guided by whispers only she could hear—whispers from Nettles, the doll she clutched, the 'other' her constant, eerie companion—reacted not with words but with the arcane. Her fingers danced through the air, weaving the threads of a Minor Illusion. To her companions who looked on near her, it first appeared as a shimmering visage of the hidden opening, a spectral gateway carved by nature yet cloaked by an otherworldly allure. As this image faded like a ghost at dawn, another took its place: the sea cave itself emerged in her illusion, revealing its clandestine interiors lit by the glow of numerous fires, wooden structures clinging desperately to the rocky embrace, all connected by fragile-looking rope bridges.
The scene inside the cave, alive with shadowy figures and moored vessels, painted a vivid tableau of secrecy and hidden lives. The illusory display, silent yet expressive, conveyed Molly's findings far more eloquently than her jumbled speech could manage. Her eyes, wide with a mix of awe and the glint of madness, flicked from one crew member to another, her expression a cryptic mosaic of emotions.
As the illusions dissolved into the sea air, Molly remained silent, her thoughts a whirlpool of madness and revelation. The doll Nettles, ever her anchor in the tumult of her mind, seemed to nod in approval, its stitched eyes glinting with the same manic energy that fueled Molly's sorcerous display. In this moment, aboard the Siren's Folly, Molly was both the harbinger of discovery and a conduit for the cryptic whispers of the deep, her mind ever adrift in the maelstrom of her own twisted realities.
Kallith devours the meal, slurping the soup with great pleasure. "Perhaps we can pick up some fruit here, at the very least." Seeing the lack of trees, she continues, with a slight twinge of desperation. "Or berries?"
While the Folly circles the island, Kallith goes below and retrieves her gear, putting on the creaky leather armor, pulling on boots, checking the straps of her backpack and strapping the wooden shield within easy reach. As the preparations are underway, she catches a glance of Dornins book. 'Didn't it look different before?' Ah, probably her imagination.
When Sheela proposes the row boat, the druid looks into the greenish-blue water with some regret. "I suppose that makes sense. I'd love to swim, but I don't want my gear to get too wet if possible. It's been a bit too tight ever since our adventure in Port Llast."
The druid turns to the others. "I don't think Isbiel is here. But since this was the destination, maybe we'll find some clues?"
She notices Mollys illusion and her eyes go wide. "Oh, there's a hidden cave here? Could we take the boat inside?"
Chandle gets on her gear, and stows the healing potions; she tries to make out the island, but with the sun and the waves she really doesn’t notice much. When Molly creates her illusion Chandle is fascinated, <This hidden port is here? That’s amazing. Will we sail the ship in then? >
Octo stands at the railing with the others, once again he is shaving his horns with the blade of his great axe he calls sparks. He’s now wondering if it is properly named after their encounter with the captain and his lightning hammers.
He takes in the island, getting a good view, but misses the cave entrance until Molly points it out with her strange magic.
“Well” he says, “sailing the ship into the harbor removes any attempt of us being stealthy, but after all we are on a ship, so I guess there we’re not hiding from anyone who is looking anyways.”
Dornin stretches his limbs nervously trying to bring himself some courage. He studies Molly’s illusions carefully and connects the dots about what she’s communicating. He speaks with the party “Well, they are expecting this ship and its crew, it may be wise we play it off that way.” Dornin stretches once more, using his disguise self(Mask of Many Faces) to transform himself to look identical to the Captain. In the Captain’s voice he speaks “Aye, and it’s the crew we’ll give ‘em!” and gives a wink.
On the deck of the Siren's Folly, Molly stood apart, her gaze drifting over the turbulent waves and then back to the motley assembly of her companions. Clutched against her breast was Nettles, the doll whose eerie semblance to life had trickled into the fibers of Molly's deluded reality.
The wind whipped through her tangled hair as she listened silently to the chatter of strategy and speculation among Kallith, Chandle, and Octo. Their voices seemed distant, muffled by the roaring sea and the chaotic symphony that played incessantly within her own mind.
Chandle had reached out earlier, her thoughts brushing against what she believed to be Molly's consciousness. But it seemed as if now it was Nettles who whispered back through the ether, her voice like the rustling of dry leaves in a forgotten tomb. <Dvärgmaiden, see to it the Hagling-Newt Molly is given sufficient coins to jingle jangle. If you are seeking advice, mine is thus: the three of you Durtlings—Chandle, Kallith, and Octo—consider taking a jolly boat to stealthfully make your way to the sea cave and leave the boat concealed at the entrance. The rest can sail the ship directly inside, under the command of your false-faced captain.>
Molly, her eyes glassy and distant, observed her companions' reactions to the unfolding magic. She neither confirmed nor denied Nettles' counsel. The Rhinemaiden's expression remained enigmatic; a slate wiped disturbingly clean of emotion or intent as if she were nothing more than the medium through which Nettles communicated with the world. Her laughter, when it came, was low and haunting, a sound not quite human, echoing against the waves as if mocking their perpetual unrest.
Chandler looks at Molly with the eyes of a mother whose daughter is far away. She then relays the idea of Molly/Nettles to the rest. She the takes the pouch of assorted coins (224gp) and hands it to Molly, “To use if needed be safe Molly.”
Rollback Post to RevisionRollBack
Wise as a serpent and sly as a fox.
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Octo finds the labor therapeutic, relaxing. "I think you have a knack for this" states Skit. The two fall into an easy rhythm of Octo hoisting the heavy sails with Skit doing the more intricate work of tying the ropes off. Soon enough the boat catches the wind and lurches into motion. "We'll make a sailor of you yet"
Kallith rummages around the Captains quarters, finding a couple metal and glass instruments, taking all three, a long thin one with glass on either end. another that has a stand and points downward, it appears to belong sitting on a table. The third has a half circle, engraved with small lines and strange numbers.
Dornin is just finishing with the dishes when a small pop can be heard from the other room. Chandle, left alone turns to the long thin box she retrieved from the Captains quarters. There is no visible lock. She uses her dagger to pry the lid just a crack spotting a thin sliver of wood, it appears out of place. Reaching for her tools, a small pair of shears would probably do the job she thinks. The boat lurches forward, her hand slips, the thin sliver of wood snaps. A puff of greenish acrid gas puffs into her face. A last parting gift of the Captain. A poisonous trap on his personal chest.
(Investigation 14+0 and Disable trap[thieves tools] Nat 1, rolled on character sheet)
Chandle coughs as her throat and nose burn. Con save DC 12 vs poison. 12 Poison damage, half on save.
If Chandle is still conscious
The Chest contains an assortment of personal items and mementos. A gold chain, A red gem studded ring, A wooden toy horse, a wedding band of simple gold, and a pair of earrings with flecks of obsidian. A small box contains an assortment of coins. There origins are varied, some with busts stamped on one side or strange beasts. Most are gold with a few platinum and silver (224gp). A small black leather bound book. 4 small metal vials, and a tiny stoppered glass jar with dragon motif.
If Chandle falls unconscious
The poison wont kill you. You recover several hours later but wake with exhaustion (Level 1) from the ordeal.
The Schooner is under way. Sheela and Skit are up to the task of piloting the vessel to your destination.
Take a Long rest if you wish when you are done exploring your surroundings.
Cut Scene
In the dim cavern, the hooded figure stands surrounded by scattered candles, their light casting eerie shadows on the walls. The air crackles with energy as the man’s intonations echo, forming wisps of gray smoke that rise from the flames. Gradually, a vaguely humanoid shape emerges—the head and shoulders solidify, while the lower body remains a turbulent vapor.
The cloaked man steps forward, his words swallowed by the swirling smoke. “We have retrieved the girl, Lord,” he murmurs.
The phantom, neither deep-voiced nor feminine, responds, “Excellent. Prepare her for the ritual. It must be executed precisely as I taught you—failure is not an option.”
“Yes, Lord,” the cloaked man replies, hesitating only briefly. “There was another group, Lord. They arrived at the ranch just after we secured the girl.”
The apparition leans closer. “What of this other group? Have they been dealt with? Do you know their identity?”
“They followed us to Port Llast and boarded the Siren’s Folly,” the cloaked man explains. “The Captain was instructed to eliminate them.”
The phantom considers. “This Captain—alone against a group. Do you believe he succeeded?”
“He is formidable,” the cloaked man assures. “I’m confident they’ve been taken care of. As for their origin, my agents in the keep would have alerted me if Loristan was aware of our actions.”
“Another player upon the board,” the apparition murmurs, its form dissolving back into smoke. “I will investigate. Have her prepared.” The cavern grows still, the candles flickering as if in acknowledgment of the unseen forces at play.
Kallith inspects the metal instruments with some confusion. Why would someone need these things with the twiddly bits and the screws? At least the cylinder with lenses on either side seemed straightforward enough. The firbolg holds it up to her eye, looking through. Alas, no spying, no farseeing.
The druid scratches her head. She turns around. "Chandle do you know how to use thi-" "CHANDLE!"
Depending on Chandles state, Kallith will either drag her out or support her to leave the cabin as quickly as possible. "What happened?"
Chandle is very sick coming out of unconsciousness, she will write rather then speak as her respiration is raw and burning, she writes, “Sorry just checking an obviously important package turns out it was trapped!”
Wise as a serpent and sly as a fox.
Dornin will spend the rest of the day(s) reading his literature and cooking meals for the group. Additionally, he thinks back on his memories of the Captain. The details in his face, clothes and accent. Dornin practices his magic disguises as the Captain to be sure he can trick whoever is at the end of our destination.
Chandle succumbs to the poison coursing though her veins. A night of shivering despite several blankets and the sweats that come form it has her rising exhausted. Sheela laughs when Kallith brings every optical device but shows her how to use the Telescope properly.
The seas are calm with a stiff wind pushing the schooner at a quick pace. The suns rising paints the open water with a warm gentle glow. Sheela excuses herself and dissapears for several hours into the First mates cabin. As the morning stretches on Kallith returns again and again to the telescope, nothing but blue seas and open skies. Sometime around lunch, you know because Dornin calls for another meal, so many you would think he's a halfling. Kallith spots a black speck on the horizon.
Skit, the young man nearly done, slumping against the wheel retrieves the sleeping Sheela, but doesn't return. Chandle, tired has found a small corner to inspect the items retrieved from the Captains quarters. Too tired to help with the sails or other sailing tasks.
"Let me see that will ya Kallith" she takes the scope and gazes upon the island for a few moments. "Not sure how you want to do this. Shall we sail around the island before deciding. I have never been here" She hands the telescope back to the firbolg and looks upon the group questioningly.
The island sits at the end of a chain of tiny atolls and majestic peaks rising unbidden from the salty brine. An ancient, once strong fortification broods over the rocky shores below. The towers, once manned for security or conflict now host nesting sea birds. They wheel and screech over the sea in great whooping circles.
The once mighty walls have begun to crumble from the onslaught of constant wind and salt. Not a soul appears to move upon the distant ramparts, or have to traversed the island for some time. The island is not large, a mile from end to end and half that across.
Kallith Perception check 18, if you succeed, open this spoiler
A large rusty portcullis stands half open at the crumbling gate to the keeps interior. Within the shadows a feline beast gazes out to sea. It disappears as quickly as it appeared.
Chandle
The drawer under the window does indeed hold a false bottom. A bottom with a pair of vials, one an oily purple viscous liquid, the other a light blue sparkly concoction. A small dagger and a coiled and tied with hemp twine wrap of scrolls with arcane writings.
The potions are Purple: potion of speed and Light blue: Elixir of health
The small dagger carries a strong enchantment, it is a +1 dagger of poison (1/ Long rest it causes a foe to make a COn save DC 12 or become poisoned
The scrolls are all rituals: Prayer of healing, Detect magic, and Find familiar (They are all single use as normal scrolls)
The Chest contains an assortment of personal items and mementos. A gold chain, A red gem studded ring, A wooden toy horse, a wedding band of simple gold, and a pair of earrings with flecks of obsidian. A small box contains an assortment of coins. There origins are varied, some with busts stamped on one side or strange beasts. Most are gold with a few platinum and silver (224gp). A small black leather bound book. 4 small metal vials, and a tiny stoppered glass jar with dragon motif.
The 4 small vials are all healing potions
The leather bound book is stamped with the intitals G.R. The pages are crisp yellow with age and crumble when mishandled. The inner cover is drawn beautifully with an ocean view, islands and shoreline etched with squid ink. Several obscure marks and symbols are randomly placed upon the page. No clue to what they represent. The books itself is written in a tight scrawl, words so tiny they are almost unreadable, each piled upon the next. The language is not recognizable. (To you)
Milestone reached, Level up to 3
Chandle is excited by the discovery of such an assortment of potions and items she gathers everyone and shares what she has found, asking about the items she is unsure of.
Chandle realizes as she shakes off the lingering effects of the poison that she has awakened something in her. Her self awareness is extended, as if she was in her body but now her body is in her, strange. Her mind too feels for the first time as if the curtains have been opened… as she tries to understand she feels blades of ‘glass’ extend from her hands this at first scares her, but then she remembers feeling these abilities just hidden within her all along. When she calls everyone her mind goes one step further she telepathically opens a link to Molly and Kallith for 3 hours, <It seems our minds are connected Molly some of the Captains personal effects should go to you. Kallith thank you for taking such good care of me, I’m honestly not sure what happened.>
Wise as a serpent and sly as a fox.
Kallith checks on Chandle a few times during the travels, but is relieved that the dwarv eventually recovers from the ordeal. Looking at the potions, she scratches her head. "I hope it isn't more poison. I can have a look."
The druid then uses her herbalism kit and proficiency to try and ascertain the nature of the four vials and the stoppered jar with the dragon motif.
[Not sure if check is needed, but just in case: [medicine: 15, nature: 13]
She somewhat sheepishly, learns the correct operation of the spy glass from Sheela, mumbling something about "that's not very intuitive", but getting the hang of it quickly. The firbolg then spends a good amount of time on deck with the farseeing instrument by her side, observing the waves and clouds. Over time, she feels a connection, as if her goddess were watching her from above.
The state of daydreaming came natural to Kallith. Sometimes she seems awake, standing on deck, her eyes open. But her mind is floating, traveling, exploring, sensing.
When the whalebones and the fort finally come into view, she is extatic. Land! As she briefly sees something moving in the fort, she lets the others know: "There is some kind of cat in these ruins. Perhaps some wild beast. We should be careful when approaching. I haven't seen any of the abductors so far. We should sail around the island and see if the two other ships are even here. As much as I would like to step on solid ground right this moment."
Feeling the sudden connection with Chandle, her eyes go wide. "What a <strange> way of <communi>cating!", having not quite got the hang of it, alternating between spoken and thought words.
Octo lies on his hammock. He found the largest one he could, and it was still too small. But it works, when the boat rocks to the port side, he can place his left foot on the floor, and when it rocks to the starboard, his right.
He has stuck to busy work, learning the ins and outs of sailing from Skit and Sheela. He is happy to have the others look over the potions, maps, books, and belongings of the crew as he has little interest in those things.
He lays there, anxious, lost in his own thoughts. He left his home below to make a name for himself in the lands above, but it seems like every choice in the last few days has been made for him. Now he finds himself on the open sea, water as far as he can see in every direction. Is this the correct path? Am I off course? he can't help but wonder, as he begins to falls asleep.
Octo is falling. Free falling through nothingness. He reaches out for anything, but there is nothing to grab, and nothing to see. The sensation is the opposite of calming, leaving him feeling nervous and helpless. Eventually the darkness brightens to a dull blue, but still there is nothing to see and nothing to grab hold of. Just falling. Helplessness.
With no warning, he is submerged in ice cold, dark water. Unseen hands grabbing at him from below, trying to pull him down. He tries to swim, but the hands are stronger then him. As his strength finally gives out, more hands grab at him, but this time from above. Strong hands. Hands like his, Minotaur hands. They pull him out of the water and into light.
He wakes up with a start and almost falls out of the little hammock. He can hear the others, laughing somewhere on the Siren’s Folly.
“Perhaps I am on the correct path.” he says to himself, then adds “I wonder if Dornin has been cooking anything, I’m starving!”
Rising to his feet, he knows he is not alone. Not just because of his friends on the boat, but because he knows his ancestors are nearby, watching approvingly.
🥀Molly Munchausen🌊
On the deck of the Siren's Folly, the air was thick with the salt of the sea and the silent tension of unspoken thoughts. The Rhinemaiden, often perceived as a marionette danced by the unseen hands of madness, found herself adrift in the currents of her own chaotic mind. Molly's consciousness was ensnared in a far more ethereal dialogue as the world around her buzzed with the mundane concerns of life and survival.
Lost in a telepathic exchange that blurred the lines between reality and delusion, Molly murmured softly to the unseen, her telepathic voice barely a whisper over the ocean's breeze, "Halt deinen Atem an... Halt deinen Atem an..." The response, carried on the same intangible waves, was a siren's telepathic eerie beauty song chilling in its serenity from the 'other': "Take it in while you can... On the edge of it all... Feel the wind... Awake my skin... On the edge of it all... I feel it coming... Hold your breath, don't let go... I feel it coming... Hold your breath, don't let go... I feel it coming..."
Unbeknownst to her, Chandle's thoughts pierced through the veil of Molly's isolated world, suggesting a connection forged by circumstance, "It seems our minds are connected, Molly some of the Captain's personal effects should go to you." The words floated through Molly's awareness like flotsam on the waves, initially unnoticed amidst the storm of her internal symphony.
As Molly's eyes, glistening with the sheen of unshed tears, locked onto Chandle, there was a palpable shift in the air. The Rhinemaiden, a creature of impulse and whim, responded not with words but with the arcane whisper of magic. With a flicker of her fingers and a twist of her lips, using Minor Illusion, she conjured an illusion—a child's wooden toy horse perched precariously on the railing. It stood as a testament to her desires, simple yet profound, echoing her connection to the memories of the Captain. This toy, a symbol of innocence lost and cherished dreams, was all she sought amidst the detritus of life now concluded.
This image, manifested from the depths of Molly's turbulent psyche, was more than a mere request; it was a window into the labyrinth of her mind, where each corridor echoed with the laughter of ghosts and the whispers of the deep. As the spectral horse gazed out over the ocean, its presence was a silent sentinel to Molly's enduring dance with chaos, each step a fragile tread upon the thin line between reality and the abyss.
OOC:
Sorcerer
Telepathic Speech
1st-level Aberrant Mind feature
You can form a telepathic connection between your mind and the mind of another. As a bonus action, choose one creature you can see within 30 feet of you. You and the chosen creature can speak telepathically with each other while the two of you are within a number of miles of each other equal to your Charisma modifier (minimum of 1 mile). To understand each other, you each must speak mentally in a language the other knows.
The telepathic connection lasts for a number of minutes equal to your sorcerer level. It ends early if you are incapacitated or die or if you use this ability to form a connection with a different creature.
Dornin continues chopping vegetables and plopping them into a simmering pot for soup, adding herbs and spices in as necessary. He takes a spoonful “Perfect” he says as he turns to inform the others.
Walking up to the stairs to go above deck, a pain sinks itself into his mind like a dagger. “Danger waits for you ahead, my child, and you will need all the help you can get. Read!” Dornin pulls the bindings off his book at his hip and opens it violently and begins to see the infernal writing take place, scratching the parchment in red ink. Knowledge floods his mind uncontrollably, magic and enchantments forcefully probe his mind. It suddenly stops and Dornin has free will again as the words in the tome fade into the pages. He slams it shut, but it looks different now. What was once simple leather, now has the features of black snake skin with an infernal sigil on the cover. He straps it back on to his waist and carries on up the stairs.
Dornin walks past Octo at his hammock. “Food is ready my friend, have at it” he says with a warm smile, trying to conceal the pain from just moments ago. He walks over to Kallith, Molly and Chandle, picking up on something odd happening between them. (Insight:15) Based on their eye contact and Kallith’s speaking pattern, he assumed they were speaking telepathically. Dornin wonders what they may be conversing about, but it’s non of his business and interrupts them for a moment. “Soup is ready, I made extra assuming we may not have the most fantastic culinary experience on this island here” He gestures off the side of the boat. “I would hurry though, I already told Octo and he seems eager. Someone his size might be able to down the whole pot.”
Dornin looks back down at the tome on his hip. It feels different now, stronger than before. No longer a book, but a doorway.
The salty sea air clung to Sheela’s skin as she deftly maneuvered the vessel. The groaning timbers echoed the struggle against the relentless waves. Skits, equally skilled, secured the knots, and the sails billowed, propelling them forward. With only a lone mast, they circled the island cautiously, maintaining a safe distance.
Sheela’s voice carried over the wind, her gaze fixed on the rugged island. “Kallith,” she called, “we can’t risk the shoals. I think you need to take the boat in.” As the island revealed itself, its jagged cliffs and weather-worn stones stood defiant against the sea. Two beaches, linked by a valley that cut into the heart of the land, lie on either side of the saddled hills. Like two sisters embracing the twin peaks had seen better days. Worn to nubs and topped with a crumbling keep. They sat as a sentinel at the entrance to the 'Whalebones'.
Two other beach heads presented opportunity. They sat opposite each other on the larger of the two peaks. Rugged cliffs, climbing upward to loom over the sea. The main keep standing sentinel over a hundred feet above.The other two Schooners are no where to be seen. Kallith scans the horizon out to sea but finds no evidence of their passing. No Rowboat remains pulled ashore on any of the four beaches. If it had been abandoned to drift it would still be bobbing in the surf nearby.
A small island sat just off shore. A testament to the dangers that lurked beneath the waves for a foolish sailor to test their fates against. Upon the Island a trio of Dolmen stood, a darker material than the local offerings, the carved stones thrust towards the sky defiant. The central stone stood larger and grander next to the smaller flanking stones.
Make a perception check If you succeed, open the appropriate spoiler.
DC 12
Off the South Western beach head lie the masts of broken vessels, sunk beneath the waves. Just to the North lies the answer to this grave yard. A cave opening, deep as night sits beneath the main keep. Half way up the sheer cliff face. A platform, crumbling with neglect, threatens to toss a pair of derelict ballista into the sea. They sit slumped, saddened by their disuse.
DC 15
The easiest landings, the four beaches, do not appear to have been disturbed. Not by Humanoid step or passage, any time recently. Kallith pointed out the Feline presence at the Main entrance to the Keep. A group of several large crabs, larger than the average dog are fighting each other on the North western beach (D).
DC 18
As the ship glides past the ancient tower on the Eastern side, a shimmer in the rock captures your attention. The folds of stone, pressed together like dough before solidifying into the curtain wall you see today, create an illusion. When you look back the way you came, from just the right angle, the secret reveals itself: a vast sea cave opens into the interior, its waters shimmering with the light of numerous fires. Before slipping past, the ship continuing its circumnavigation, you catch sight of a wooden buildings within the cave. Supported by posts and scaffolding, they cling to the walls, and each other, one built atop another, connected by platforms and rope bridges. Two vessels, sails lowered, rest idly in the cave’s confines, while people move through the labyrinthine byways and rickety paths
🥀Molly Munchausen🌊
Onboard the Siren's Folly, Molly's gaze remained transfixed on the spectral dance of light and shadow along the island's cliffside. As the ship edged cautiously around the island, her perception, sharpened not by clarity but by a frenetic attunement to her own chaotic senses gifted with both Devil’s and Eldritch Sight by her Fathomless Patron Brineheart Molly caught the elusive shimmer of something hidden—a vast sea cave veiled by the island's stony façade.
The Rhinemaiden, enthralled by the sight and guided by whispers only she could hear—whispers from Nettles, the doll she clutched, the 'other' her constant, eerie companion—reacted not with words but with the arcane. Her fingers danced through the air, weaving the threads of a Minor Illusion. To her companions who looked on near her, it first appeared as a shimmering visage of the hidden opening, a spectral gateway carved by nature yet cloaked by an otherworldly allure. As this image faded like a ghost at dawn, another took its place: the sea cave itself emerged in her illusion, revealing its clandestine interiors lit by the glow of numerous fires, wooden structures clinging desperately to the rocky embrace, all connected by fragile-looking rope bridges.
The scene inside the cave, alive with shadowy figures and moored vessels, painted a vivid tableau of secrecy and hidden lives. The illusory display, silent yet expressive, conveyed Molly's findings far more eloquently than her jumbled speech could manage. Her eyes, wide with a mix of awe and the glint of madness, flicked from one crew member to another, her expression a cryptic mosaic of emotions.
As the illusions dissolved into the sea air, Molly remained silent, her thoughts a whirlpool of madness and revelation. The doll Nettles, ever her anchor in the tumult of her mind, seemed to nod in approval, its stitched eyes glinting with the same manic energy that fueled Molly's sorcerous display. In this moment, aboard the Siren's Folly, Molly was both the harbinger of discovery and a conduit for the cryptic whispers of the deep, her mind ever adrift in the maelstrom of her own twisted realities.
OOC: Molly Perception Check: 19 + 1 = 20
[Perception: 6]
Kallith devours the meal, slurping the soup with great pleasure. "Perhaps we can pick up some fruit here, at the very least." Seeing the lack of trees, she continues, with a slight twinge of desperation. "Or berries?"
While the Folly circles the island, Kallith goes below and retrieves her gear, putting on the creaky leather armor, pulling on boots, checking the straps of her backpack and strapping the wooden shield within easy reach. As the preparations are underway, she catches a glance of Dornins book. 'Didn't it look different before?' Ah, probably her imagination.
When Sheela proposes the row boat, the druid looks into the greenish-blue water with some regret. "I suppose that makes sense. I'd love to swim, but I don't want my gear to get too wet if possible. It's been a bit too tight ever since our adventure in Port Llast."
The druid turns to the others. "I don't think Isbiel is here. But since this was the destination, maybe we'll find some clues?"
She notices Mollys illusion and her eyes go wide. "Oh, there's a hidden cave here? Could we take the boat inside?"
Perception 7 (passive 11)
Chandle gets on her gear, and stows the healing potions; she tries to make out the island, but with the sun and the waves she really doesn’t notice much. When Molly creates her illusion Chandle is fascinated, <This hidden port is here? That’s amazing. Will we sail the ship in then? >
Wise as a serpent and sly as a fox.
Octo stands at the railing with the others, once again he is shaving his horns with the blade of his great axe he calls sparks. He’s now wondering if it is properly named after their encounter with the captain and his lightning hammers.
He takes in the island, getting a good view, but misses the cave entrance until Molly points it out with her strange magic.
“Well” he says, “sailing the ship into the harbor removes any attempt of us being stealthy, but after all we are on a ship, so I guess there we’re not hiding from anyone who is looking anyways.”
He pats Dornin on the back “Good soup!”
Dornin stretches his limbs nervously trying to bring himself some courage. He studies Molly’s illusions carefully and connects the dots about what she’s communicating. He speaks with the party “Well, they are expecting this ship and its crew, it may be wise we play it off that way.” Dornin stretches once more, using his disguise self(Mask of Many Faces) to transform himself to look identical to the Captain. In the Captain’s voice he speaks “Aye, and it’s the crew we’ll give ‘em!” and gives a wink.
🥀Molly Munchausen🌊
On the deck of the Siren's Folly, Molly stood apart, her gaze drifting over the turbulent waves and then back to the motley assembly of her companions. Clutched against her breast was Nettles, the doll whose eerie semblance to life had trickled into the fibers of Molly's deluded reality.
The wind whipped through her tangled hair as she listened silently to the chatter of strategy and speculation among Kallith, Chandle, and Octo. Their voices seemed distant, muffled by the roaring sea and the chaotic symphony that played incessantly within her own mind.
Chandle had reached out earlier, her thoughts brushing against what she believed to be Molly's consciousness. But it seemed as if now it was Nettles who whispered back through the ether, her voice like the rustling of dry leaves in a forgotten tomb. <Dvärgmaiden, see to it the Hagling-Newt Molly is given sufficient coins to jingle jangle. If you are seeking advice, mine is thus: the three of you Durtlings—Chandle, Kallith, and Octo—consider taking a jolly boat to stealthfully make your way to the sea cave and leave the boat concealed at the entrance. The rest can sail the ship directly inside, under the command of your false-faced captain.>
Molly, her eyes glassy and distant, observed her companions' reactions to the unfolding magic. She neither confirmed nor denied Nettles' counsel. The Rhinemaiden's expression remained enigmatic; a slate wiped disturbingly clean of emotion or intent as if she were nothing more than the medium through which Nettles communicated with the world. Her laughter, when it came, was low and haunting, a sound not quite human, echoing against the waves as if mocking their perpetual unrest.
Chandler looks at Molly with the eyes of a mother whose daughter is far away. She then relays the idea of Molly/Nettles to the rest. She the takes the pouch of assorted coins (224gp) and hands it to Molly, “To use if needed be safe Molly.”
Wise as a serpent and sly as a fox.