NOW LIVE! X Marks the Spot: Piratical Resources for your 5E game

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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Goonalan" data-source="post: 3667013" data-attributes="member: 16069">Turn 2: A nice cup of tea and an Auntie massacre.“There seems to be a door here, concealed.” The Professor taps his cane on the stone wall.Jaffa Spandex, presses his ear against the cool stone of the secret door, turns back to Arthur Pint who’s a way back down the corridor, silhouetted in the light spilling from the auxiliary guard room.“Definitely sumefing. I heard a boom.”Arthur nods, “Tek a look den.”Jaffa nods back, turns and wrenches the door open, finds himself, like the song says, staring down the barrel of a gun.BOOOM.Jaffa Spandex takes his leave of this mortal coil, while Arthur Pint’s face is pebble-dashed by shot.Arthur screams, scrabbles at his stinging, cratered features.Tink-Thuk.Arthur falls to his knees, a neat hole bored in his temple.The Professor, still pointing his pistol, grins at Auntie Edie, “over to you madam.”Auntie grins back, clunk-clicks the Heckler and shuffles forward down the newly found corridor, ahead two Goblins dive into the corridor, snarling.One of them gawks, the other charges.BOOM.Neither get far.Auntie shuffles into the auxiliary guardroom, The Professor follows. A somewhat neater room, a few tables and make-shift chairs, overturned crates and barrels and the like.Auntie shuffles over, flops off a slipper and massages her foot, “bunions”, she states and continues massaging. The Professor smiles warmly then sits himself down, “take your time Auntie, I shall amuse myself for a moment.” He pulls off his hat, reaches inside, pulls out a tattered and dog-eared novel, George Orwell’s ‘1985- Big Brother is back’, and reads a while.Time passes.Eventually Auntie stirs, replaces her slipper, and fetches from her handbag a flask of tea, she pours a cup, gestures to The Professor- “do you want a cup?”, he looks up, smiles and declines the offer with a friendly wave.Auntie blows on her steaming tea, then stirs an extra sugar in- from the chunky glass sugar bowl she lifts out of her handbag, she slurps. “I wish I had a biscuit, I could murder a jammy-dodger.”The Professor’s watch ticks on- marks time.At last, cup empty, Auntie replaces the flask and clears up behind her with a damp cloth, once again taken from her handbag.“So what are we here for again?” She asks.The Professor shuts his book, after first marking the page, replaces it in his hat, and places his hat on his head, stands, checks and straightens his cuffs. “Silver.” He states.“That’s it… What for? I mean why do they want silver?”“Who knows madam, I think the ‘authorities’ are enamoured with all forms of precious metals, it must be something to do with the ‘Timeline’, or else they’re simply out to line their own pockets. Personally, I wouldn’t put it past them. Avaricious swine that they are; no aesthetics, men of limited faculty, you understand, our masters.” The Professor arches his eyebrows and stare-smiles into space, winks at something unseen… at us?Auntie giggles, “Careful, you’ll get us in trouble.”“I’m sure they’ll just edit it out, sadly.” The Professor grimaces.He retrieves his cane, there are two doors out of the chamber, he points at one, then the other, “any preference Auntie?”“No, you choose.”“Very good, this way.”Some distance away a group of Goblins huddle.“I eard somefing, mayd me feyt wobble, der flure wobble.” Waistband Flex is a jerk, dumb, even for a Goblin, and smelly, he could have been an Outsider, except they wouldn’t have him.“Alright then, let da rats art. See-if dey can smell owt.” Da Ratmeister decides, he’d been promoted to Rat-Keeper soon after the Outsiders arrival; the order had come from- HIM. He hated the fact that the rats had better food than his compatriots, he liked the fact he shared the rats food, and the modicum of authority that came with the position. He got to give orders, at least every now and then, although he had no special talent for this it somehow appealed to his sense of fairness, justice.Waistband fiddles with the door, pulls it open, rats, actually Dire Rats, spill out, over half-a-dozen of the huge furry rodents- one of them adorned with a red bow. “That’s Angelique.” Da Ratmeister chucks and rubs the huge rat behind its ear, cooing and murmuring all the while. “She’s my special baby, aren’t you Angie.”Pat-a-pat-a-pat-a-pat-a.Da Ratmeister straightens; Waistband leans round to see beyond him, back down the corridor.Pat-a-pat-a-pat-a-pat-a.“Dat rayn?” Waistband offers.“Inside? Idiot.” Da Ratmeister states and tuts. And yet a line of miniature blooms of dust snakes forward towards the Goblins and rats, each bloom erupting from the stone floor of the corridor, leaving pock-holes in their wake.“Dats ard rain.” Waistband muses.Pat-a-pat-a-pat-a-pat-a.Three seconds later the Goblins dance, badly, then slump to the floor, the rats attempt to scarper but are caught in the ‘hard rain’, they too slump to the floor.A little further up the corridor Auntie folds a pair of National Health jam-jar bottom safety glasses, then replaces the magazine on her Uzi, you can tell it’s her Uzi, it has a knitted cover for the stock, and a bobble-hat which she now slides over the muzzle.“Infer-something, see in the dark”, she holds the glasses up for The Professor’s inspection, he nods, he too has a pair. “I use them for my knitting, it gets fiddly, especially the bobble-bits”, Auntie finishes and tucks her glasses away.The Professor fishes out a small torch, shines it down the corridor, the beam is powerful enough to create an instance of daylight; the area is bathed in white- it’s grisly. The Professor turns the beam down and plod-taps forward, Auntie stuffs the Uzi in her handbag and fetches out the Heckler. “How do we know where to find it?” She asks.“The Silver?” Auntie nods.  “We could ask one of them, the Goblins, I suppose, would that suffice Auntie?”“Can you speak… Goblin?”“I should think so, I can certainly read the language, it shouldn’t be too difficult, very primitive, a miserably limited spectrum of expression, almost unconcerned with tense. Shall we put it to the test, dear lady?” Auntie reddens slightly, she likes being called ‘dear lady’,“oh you are a one”, she grins.The Professor proffers his arm, Auntie threads her arm through his, entwined they promenade, careful to avoid the dead Goblins and Dire Rats.“Who should we ask?” Auntie asks mid-shuffle.“A leader type perhaps or indeed anyone that remains alive long enough for a little chat.”Auntie smirks up at The Professor, the two move on.Bloodspawn Gutwrench paws at the arm of his make-shift throne, half-asleep, being a boss is an easy life, not like his previous existence; he stares up at his body guards, they shuffle uneasily in his gaze- two of the biggest Goblins he’s ever seen, and yet they flinch. Good. He remembers how it was, before HIM, he remembers the way things were- Jeff Shat’ouse, Latrine Attendant, 2nd Class, that was his previous name and duties, not any more, not likely. He growls, far deeper and with more menace than any Goblin should be able to. His eyes flick over for a second, the iris’ turning feral yellow, then back again to murky brown, back to normal.Bloodspawn closes his eyes and sleeps.Next Turn: Questions and Answers.</blockquote>

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