Having nothing better to do, Weizol will walk around the ship tentatively to familiarize himself with its structure. If he is to be responsible for its defense for the journey then he should know what he is defending, he reasons.
(He wants to examine the ship for what he can think of as points of weaknesses or places that absolutely should not be lost to an invader. He'll also look for places that are easy to defend or advantageous to fight from. 19)
(Huh. Well, all right then.)
The ship doesn't appear to be damaged or noticeably weaker than any other ship of this same size and build, but you do become aware of some possible tactics that could be more likely to be used against the ship.
First, Jarlaxle said that there was a cargo you needed to protect. You are not aware of what the cargo may be, or if it would be damaged by water, but if an attacker were to damage the hull enough to sink the ship, it would be difficult (but not impossible) for them to retrieve the cargo, if they were aware of it.
Second, the ship does not have many weapons to protect against an attack. It only has a ballista and a mangonel, but you are not sure how practiced the crew is in using these weapons. If they are skilled in using these weapons, an attacker may try to target and destroy them upon an attack. If they aren't skilled in them, they may instead devote their first attacks to attacking the crew, the sails, or the hull of the ship.
Third, the ship only moves by sailing. There are no oars. Because of this, if the sails were to be destroyed in an attack in some way, this could strand everyone in the ship at sea.
Fourth, there are 3 rowboats on both sides of the ship (starboard and port). Each rowboat can hold 4 people. There are 25 crew members, Jarlaxle the captain, and the four of you. In the event of an attack, if the ship were to be destroyed, and you had to flee in the rowboats, there would not be enough room on the rowboats for 6 of the people on the ship.
(Is that the information you were looking for?)
(It is what I was looking for, thanks)
Weizol finds somewhere to sit down, taking out a piece of parchment from his large pack to write on. He draws the structure of the ship as he sees it from two angles, one is bird's eye and the other is a diagonal downward angle. He notes each of the points down in clean flowing handwriting (the mark of someone familiar with the work of a scribe), referencing the pictures. He lets the ink dry and rolls up the paper for later, carefully.
Now he just waits for departure. Taking an ancient looking elvish book with frayed bindings out from his pack, he flips to a page in the middle of the book marked with a braided tassel. He settles into reading, though often his eyes dart around as the Drow move about in his periphery.
(For anyone able to read Elvish, the title of the book references the ancient esoteric art of 'Bladesinging')
Weizol, with his attention split between the book and the crew of the ship, is startled by the halfling's approach and jerks up hard, banging the back of his head against the wooden railing of the ship. He swears quietly in Elvish, "Bloede pest..."
He turns his head while massaging the spot he hit to regard the halfling. "Brownbowl, was it? It tells of a dying school of magecraft, held in secrecy by elves. It would be useless to you."
"Useless information happens to be my forte good chum. Like how forte is the strong part of a fencing sword and also used in music to tell someone to play loud. Or how chum is a delightful thing to call an aquaintence, but also a word for bloody rotten fish bits. Eh, chum?" Nipperkin says in the midst polite and jovial manner.
He frowns at that. Is that what chum meant? An odd choice for a term of endearment, he thinks. "Well, no matter. I can tell you what is commonly known among elves if that will suffice to stop you from calling me a 'rotten fish'. Bladesingers, contrary to human assumptions, are not sword-mages who yodel their way into battle. The singing refers to the peculiar hum of steel when using specific techniques combined with spellcraft. Bladesingers are defenders of tradition, elven mystics who blend their bladesong martial techniques with Arselu'Tel'Quess."
Nipperkin looks on with a childlike wonder. "That is amazing Weizol, gonna bounce that around in the old brain pan for a bit, hope you're enjoying the boat as much as I am." He then whistles off to bother the crew for be a bit.
He sighs to himself as the halfling takes off. Enjoying the ship? He is definitely not. But then again... He knew that trying to find clues about the coming calamity in the outside world was never going to be easy.
At this point, the ship is finally ready to head off. The sails are raised, the anchor is lifted, and the crew is in position. Jarlaxle stands at the wheel of the ship, and begins to steer it out of the docks. The wind fills the sails, blowing it towards the exit from Waterdeep Harbor.
(The wind is currently blowing west, and is moderately strong.)
"And we're off!"Jarlaxle shouts, "Say your last goodbyes to the town, this is the last you'll see of it for awhile."
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Saiba takes a position along one of the rails and quietly looks back towards the mainland and Waterdeep as it slowly fades away into the distance. As the halfling begins his shanty, he can't help but crack a smile as he recalls some of his fonder memories from his youth when Barlo would pull out his lute and recount some of his more... salacious stories to the general amusement and applause of his men. Even in his reverie, he'll keep a general look out for anything unusual (particularly ships) in the distance.
Weizol would like to put his items down in his quarters, but doesn't know where he would be sleeping. He looks towards the Drow captain, deciding that starting a conversation here is too uncomfortable. He can't avoid it forever, but he promises himself that he will find a better time.
He leaves his pack somewhere out of the way of the crew and leans on the railing, appreciating the view of the sea. It is his first time seeing it, after all.
Saiba takes a position along one of the rails and quietly looks back towards the mainland and Waterdeep as it slowly fades away into the distance. As the halfling begins his shanty, he can't help but crack a smile as he recalls some of his fonder memories from his youth when Barlo would pull out his lute and recount some of his more... salacious stories to the general amusement and applause of his men. Even in his reverie, he'll keep a general look out for anything unusual (particularly ships) in the distance.
Perception: 14
You see a few fishing ships coming into the harbor just as you're leaving, but no others come into view for quite awhile after that.
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Weizol listens to the strange raucous music of the halfling for some time. It was... different from the music his tribe played at festivals, but not unnerving. It had its own charm that he thought he could appreciate given more time.
He sees the human (Saiba) in steel armor watching the ocean. He decides to at least attempt to make one ally on this ship, just in case the Drow really do turn out to be slavers. He walks, his steps are lighter than even most elves, almost like a trained thief who knew where to step to conceal their footsteps. It is either trained or natural agility and difficult to pick out until he makes himself known. "...Ceádmil. Saiba, correct? I would have a few words with you. First, examine this."
He hands him a rolled parchment containing a detailed breakdown of the places on the ship likely to be targeted in case of an attack, written in the fine handwriting of a scribe along with two drawings of the ship.
"Your armor, if not only for decor, would suggest you are a man of arms. I'm certain you can make better use of this information than I." (Ceádmil - Elven greeting: one hundred thousand welcomes [to you].)
Weizol listens to the strange raucous music of the halfling for some time. It was... different from the music his tribe played at festivals, but not unnerving. It had its own charm that he thought he could appreciate given more time.
He sees the human (Saiba) in steel armor watching the ocean. He decides to at least attempt to make one ally on this ship, just in case the Drow really do turn out to be slavers. He walks, his steps are lighter than even most elves, almost like a trained thief who knew where to step to conceal their footsteps. It is either trained or natural agility and difficult to pick out until he makes himself known. "...Ceádmil. Saiba, correct? I would have a few words with you. First, examine this."
He hands him a rolled parchment containing a detailed breakdown of the places on the ship likely to be targeted in case of an attack, written in the fine handwriting of a scribe along with two drawings of the ship.
"Your armor, if not only for decor, would suggest you are a man of arms. I'm certain you can make better use of this information than I." (Ceádmil - Elven greeting: one hundred thousand welcomes [to you].)
Saiba turns to the elf, surprised he got so close to him without noticing, and nods his head politely in response to his greeting. If he was being honest with himself, while he could still read and write well enough in Elven, he had never learned most of the ceremonies and intricate formalities within the Elven language and thought that a tacit acknowledgment would be more polite than fumbling back a response, or worse offending the elf (a particularly bloody memory of the time he accidently misused an Elven phrase to a battalion of Elves flashes across his mind as he nods). "Sure I can take a look at this information if you'd like." he replies as takes the parchment from the elf. "Was there anything else?"
Weizol examines the human. I am cautious... Too cautious, he warns himself. 'Trust is a commodity traded in equal measures; he who does not give, does not get.' The Elder used to say that about the human traders who pass through their settlement every season. Both needed trust to trade in good will. He nods slightly, forcing himself to relax his posture. "There is nothing else. I simply believed you had the most expertise among all of us the Lord had hired for this sort of task. Where are you from, Saiba?" He tries to keep his tone light but it's clearly strained. The elf is on edge.
Weizol examines the human. I am cautious... Too cautious, he warns himself. 'Trust is a commodity traded in equal measures; he who does not give, does not get.' The Elder used to say that about the human traders who pass through their settlement every season. Both needed trust to trade in good will. He nods slightly, forcing himself to relax his posture. "There is nothing else. I simply believed you had the most expertise among all of us the Lord had hired for this sort of task. Where are you from, Saiba?" He tries to keep his tone light but it's clearly strained. The elf is on edge.
"From nowhere in particular. I've lived in various spots up and down the Sword Coast my whole life never staying one place for too long. And the closest place I had to a home no longer exists..." He replies trailing off a bit at the end. After a long pause he continues, "And where might you be from Weizol? What brought you down to Waterdeep?"
He takes a few seconds to consider his words carefully before answering Saiba. "I was born to the Veloe tribe and raised on the Shining Plains. My experience with other races is... Limited. If I seem ignorant, it is not because I choose to be." He says it in a matter-of-fact tone, as someone who accepts reality for what it is, with relative ease. "I traveled to Waterdeep to meet a friend; We hope to uncover a conspiracy my L'os fraeren had somehow gotten himself mired in. He... the outside world, it had changed him. His distant dreams of grandeur replaced by visions of terrible secrets. I... can say no more than that." He shakes his head with a frown. He looks lost for a brief moment, out of his depth. Then he doesn't, returning to the quiet dignity of the tribal elves.
(L'os fraeren - Bone brother/brother not-of-blood; Elven expression for people very close to them like siblings. There's a saying that if a L'os fraeren draws his blade, you must also draw yours for the same cause regardless of whether you want to or not, even if you can't fight.)
He takes a few seconds to consider his words carefully before answering Saiba. "I was born to the Veloe tribe and raised on the Shining Plains. My experience with other races is... Limited. If I seem ignorant, it is not because I choose to be." He says it in a matter-of-fact tone, as someone who accepts reality for what it is, with relative ease. "I traveled to Waterdeep to meet a friend; We hope to uncover a conspiracy my L'os fraeren had somehow gotten himself mired in. He... the outside world, it had changed him. His distant dreams of grandeur replaced by visions of terrible secrets. I... can say no more than that." He shakes his head with a frown. He looks lost for a brief moment, out of his depth. Then he doesn't, returning to the quiet dignity of the tribal elves.
(L'os fraeren - Bone brother/brother not-of-blood; Elven expression for people very close to them like siblings. There's a saying that if a L'os fraeren draws his blade, you must also draw yours for the same cause regardless of whether you want to or not, even if you can't fight.)
"I understand and I'm sorry to hear about your friend; the world has a way of changing a person at times. Hopefully they're alright and your journey brings you the answers you seek. And though I've never been, I've heard the Shining Plains are quite nice during Spring."
A little while afterwards, once the conversation, Saiba will call to the others to join him for a moment and ask, "So in the likely chance that the ship is attacked, we should have a plan in mind on how to proceed. Any thoughts?" He'll then let the others speak before commenting himself.
(It is what I was looking for, thanks)
Weizol finds somewhere to sit down, taking out a piece of parchment from his large pack to write on. He draws the structure of the ship as he sees it from two angles, one is bird's eye and the other is a diagonal downward angle. He notes each of the points down in clean flowing handwriting (the mark of someone familiar with the work of a scribe), referencing the pictures. He lets the ink dry and rolls up the paper for later, carefully.
Now he just waits for departure. Taking an ancient looking elvish book with frayed bindings out from his pack, he flips to a page in the middle of the book marked with a braided tassel. He settles into reading, though often his eyes dart around as the Drow move about in his periphery.
(For anyone able to read Elvish, the title of the book references the ancient esoteric art of 'Bladesinging')
Lost In Time: An Interdimensional Escapade: Baragon Starfeller - Level 2 Leonin Paladin
Out of Elysium: Rhaecus, of the Raving Drums - Level 1 Satyr Rogue
Dungeonverse: Weizol L'varr - Level 1 Eladrin Wizard
"Watcha reeeeading?" Nipperkin says from the rail of the ship over weizol's shoulder.
Weizol, with his attention split between the book and the crew of the ship, is startled by the halfling's approach and jerks up hard, banging the back of his head against the wooden railing of the ship. He swears quietly in Elvish, "Bloede pest..."
He turns his head while massaging the spot he hit to regard the halfling. "Brownbowl, was it? It tells of a dying school of magecraft, held in secrecy by elves. It would be useless to you."
Lost In Time: An Interdimensional Escapade: Baragon Starfeller - Level 2 Leonin Paladin
Out of Elysium: Rhaecus, of the Raving Drums - Level 1 Satyr Rogue
Dungeonverse: Weizol L'varr - Level 1 Eladrin Wizard
"Useless information happens to be my forte good chum. Like how forte is the strong part of a fencing sword and also used in music to tell someone to play loud. Or how chum is a delightful thing to call an aquaintence, but also a word for bloody rotten fish bits. Eh, chum?" Nipperkin says in the midst polite and jovial manner.
He frowns at that. Is that what chum meant? An odd choice for a term of endearment, he thinks. "Well, no matter. I can tell you what is commonly known among elves if that will suffice to stop you from calling me a 'rotten fish'. Bladesingers, contrary to human assumptions, are not sword-mages who yodel their way into battle. The singing refers to the peculiar hum of steel when using specific techniques combined with spellcraft. Bladesingers are defenders of tradition, elven mystics who blend their bladesong martial techniques with Arselu'Tel'Quess."
Lost In Time: An Interdimensional Escapade: Baragon Starfeller - Level 2 Leonin Paladin
Out of Elysium: Rhaecus, of the Raving Drums - Level 1 Satyr Rogue
Dungeonverse: Weizol L'varr - Level 1 Eladrin Wizard
Nipperkin looks on with a childlike wonder. "That is amazing Weizol, gonna bounce that around in the old brain pan for a bit, hope you're enjoying the boat as much as I am." He then whistles off to bother the crew for be a bit.
He sighs to himself as the halfling takes off. Enjoying the ship? He is definitely not. But then again... He knew that trying to find clues about the coming calamity in the outside world was never going to be easy.
Lost In Time: An Interdimensional Escapade: Baragon Starfeller - Level 2 Leonin Paladin
Out of Elysium: Rhaecus, of the Raving Drums - Level 1 Satyr Rogue
Dungeonverse: Weizol L'varr - Level 1 Eladrin Wizard
At this point, the ship is finally ready to head off. The sails are raised, the anchor is lifted, and the crew is in position. Jarlaxle stands at the wheel of the ship, and begins to steer it out of the docks. The wind fills the sails, blowing it towards the exit from Waterdeep Harbor.
(The wind is currently blowing west, and is moderately strong.)
"And we're off!" Jarlaxle shouts, "Say your last goodbyes to the town, this is the last you'll see of it for awhile."
Please check out my homebrew, I would appreciate feedback:
Spells, Monsters, Subclasses, Races, Arcknight Class, Occultist Class, World, Enigmatic Esoterica forms
Nipperkin does start a shanty.
"Heave a pull a heave away, Way hey roll and go...
The anchor's on board and the cable's all stored, t'mee rollickan randy dandy oh."
Saiba takes a position along one of the rails and quietly looks back towards the mainland and Waterdeep as it slowly fades away into the distance. As the halfling begins his shanty, he can't help but crack a smile as he recalls some of his fonder memories from his youth when Barlo would pull out his lute and recount some of his more... salacious stories to the general amusement and applause of his men. Even in his reverie, he'll keep a general look out for anything unusual (particularly ships) in the distance.
Perception: 12
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM
Weizol would like to put his items down in his quarters, but doesn't know where he would be sleeping. He looks towards the Drow captain, deciding that starting a conversation here is too uncomfortable. He can't avoid it forever, but he promises himself that he will find a better time.
He leaves his pack somewhere out of the way of the crew and leans on the railing, appreciating the view of the sea. It is his first time seeing it, after all.
Lost In Time: An Interdimensional Escapade: Baragon Starfeller - Level 2 Leonin Paladin
Out of Elysium: Rhaecus, of the Raving Drums - Level 1 Satyr Rogue
Dungeonverse: Weizol L'varr - Level 1 Eladrin Wizard
You see a few fishing ships coming into the harbor just as you're leaving, but no others come into view for quite awhile after that.
Please check out my homebrew, I would appreciate feedback:
Spells, Monsters, Subclasses, Races, Arcknight Class, Occultist Class, World, Enigmatic Esoterica forms
Weizol listens to the strange raucous music of the halfling for some time. It was... different from the music his tribe played at festivals, but not unnerving. It had its own charm that he thought he could appreciate given more time.
He sees the human (Saiba) in steel armor watching the ocean. He decides to at least attempt to make one ally on this ship, just in case the Drow really do turn out to be slavers. He walks, his steps are lighter than even most elves, almost like a trained thief who knew where to step to conceal their footsteps. It is either trained or natural agility and difficult to pick out until he makes himself known. "...Ceádmil. Saiba, correct? I would have a few words with you. First, examine this."
He hands him a rolled parchment containing a detailed breakdown of the places on the ship likely to be targeted in case of an attack, written in the fine handwriting of a scribe along with two drawings of the ship.
"Your armor, if not only for decor, would suggest you are a man of arms. I'm certain you can make better use of this information than I."
(Ceádmil - Elven greeting: one hundred thousand welcomes [to you].)
Lost In Time: An Interdimensional Escapade: Baragon Starfeller - Level 2 Leonin Paladin
Out of Elysium: Rhaecus, of the Raving Drums - Level 1 Satyr Rogue
Dungeonverse: Weizol L'varr - Level 1 Eladrin Wizard
Saiba turns to the elf, surprised he got so close to him without noticing, and nods his head politely in response to his greeting. If he was being honest with himself, while he could still read and write well enough in Elven, he had never learned most of the ceremonies and intricate formalities within the Elven language and thought that a tacit acknowledgment would be more polite than fumbling back a response, or worse offending the elf (a particularly bloody memory of the time he accidently misused an Elven phrase to a battalion of Elves flashes across his mind as he nods). "Sure I can take a look at this information if you'd like." he replies as takes the parchment from the elf. "Was there anything else?"
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM
Weizol examines the human. I am cautious... Too cautious, he warns himself. 'Trust is a commodity traded in equal measures; he who does not give, does not get.' The Elder used to say that about the human traders who pass through their settlement every season. Both needed trust to trade in good will. He nods slightly, forcing himself to relax his posture. "There is nothing else. I simply believed you had the most expertise among all of us the Lord had hired for this sort of task. Where are you from, Saiba?" He tries to keep his tone light but it's clearly strained. The elf is on edge.
Lost In Time: An Interdimensional Escapade: Baragon Starfeller - Level 2 Leonin Paladin
Out of Elysium: Rhaecus, of the Raving Drums - Level 1 Satyr Rogue
Dungeonverse: Weizol L'varr - Level 1 Eladrin Wizard
"From nowhere in particular. I've lived in various spots up and down the Sword Coast my whole life never staying one place for too long. And the closest place I had to a home no longer exists..." He replies trailing off a bit at the end. After a long pause he continues, "And where might you be from Weizol? What brought you down to Waterdeep?"
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM
He takes a few seconds to consider his words carefully before answering Saiba. "I was born to the Veloe tribe and raised on the Shining Plains. My experience with other races is... Limited. If I seem ignorant, it is not because I choose to be." He says it in a matter-of-fact tone, as someone who accepts reality for what it is, with relative ease. "I traveled to Waterdeep to meet a friend; We hope to uncover a conspiracy my L'os fraeren had somehow gotten himself mired in. He... the outside world, it had changed him. His distant dreams of grandeur replaced by visions of terrible secrets. I... can say no more than that." He shakes his head with a frown. He looks lost for a brief moment, out of his depth. Then he doesn't, returning to the quiet dignity of the tribal elves.
(L'os fraeren - Bone brother/brother not-of-blood; Elven expression for people very close to them like siblings. There's a saying that if a L'os fraeren draws his blade, you must also draw yours for the same cause regardless of whether you want to or not, even if you can't fight.)
Lost In Time: An Interdimensional Escapade: Baragon Starfeller - Level 2 Leonin Paladin
Out of Elysium: Rhaecus, of the Raving Drums - Level 1 Satyr Rogue
Dungeonverse: Weizol L'varr - Level 1 Eladrin Wizard
"I understand and I'm sorry to hear about your friend; the world has a way of changing a person at times. Hopefully they're alright and your journey brings you the answers you seek. And though I've never been, I've heard the Shining Plains are quite nice during Spring."
A little while afterwards, once the conversation, Saiba will call to the others to join him for a moment and ask, "So in the likely chance that the ship is attacked, we should have a plan in mind on how to proceed. Any thoughts?" He'll then let the others speak before commenting himself.
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM
"Run"
(Ahahahaha)
Zoldier’s Curse of the Crimson Throne: DM/ Redii || Zoldier's Strange Aeon's: DM