Bob Aberton
First Post
Bimzoole: After shouting your retort, you kick a table over and duck behind it. Sticking your head up just far enough to see, you point toward the bartender, making a "finger gun" with your right fingers, you spit out the same familiar incantation.
The bartender turns around just in time to catch both crackling cannonballs right in the chest. The bartender quickly ducks fully behind the bar, and you can hear him cursing volubly as he reloads his musket.
(OOC: You inflicted 9 points more of damage. However, now the bartender has full cover, so you cannot hit him with targetted spells.)
You can no longer lob your magic cannonballs at him, because you cannot see precisely where he is. On the other hand, his bar is covered in spilled liquor. And liquor, and you know, is quite flammable.
Malachi: You move in and your hands close around his hair. As you do so, however, he scores a light hit on your ribs with his cutlass. Ignoring the slight wound, you close on him and grab hm with your free hand.
You draw back your spear and strike. Your spear lodges in the fleshy parts of the runner's throat, and he dies instantly. Pulling up on the spear, you also manage to tear the dead man's head halfway off, spattering you with his blood.
(OOC: You grappled him, denying him his DEX bonus to AC [and he wasn't wearing armor...]. Then you rolled just enough to kill him [I rolled damage to speed things up, I hope you don't mind]. He did, however score 4 points of damage on you when he took his AoO.)
Malthas: You turn and start to flank you newly re-armed opponent, but before you can, a pair of muscled, bear-like arms close around the man's collar and midsection. The giant, brutal looking seaman who you glimpsed wreaking so much havoc upon the other runners has grabbed your opponent, lifted him bodily in the air, and with a roar, thrown him right through the window, like a human harpoon.
Meanwhile, Malachi has also disposed of his opponent in a rather gruesome fashion, and Bimzoole, the gnome, has taken cover from the bartender/sharpshooter behind a table.
Vemuz: After chasing the weasel away, you turn on the halfling's second assailant, the one with the knife.
As you close with him, instead of attacking through the opening you gave him, he blanches and his weapon arm goes limp. Your blazing, furious eyes, general deadly appearance, and the blood running down your chest must create a fearful image.
(OOC: Fearsome Appearance, or whatever that feat you have is called, worked out this time.)
You grasp the man by the shirt collar and midsection, and hoist him into the air. He wriggles, trying to escape, but he can get free of your iron grasp.
Muscles bulging, eyes red, and frothing slightly at the mouth, you let out a roar that everyone in the room hears as you lift the struggling man over your shoulders, turn, and throw him out the window, using the same motions you use to hurl a killing iron at a whale or swordfish. The human projectile traces a lazy arc in the air, arms flailing, then with a shattering of glass, he hurtles through the window. Damp sea air wafts into the room through the gap where the window used to be.
Many of the runners near you edge away in away. You turn and see that the half-orc with the sextant has grabbed his own opponent by the hair, stabbed his spear through the man's throat, and torn the man's head off.
All: As you all finish with your respective actions, you can see Capt. McCrenshaw across the room. He is standing on a table, his back to a corner between two walls. The runners cannot flank him, and they have to come at him head on. Two more lie dead at his feet, but he looks hard pressed. He is wounded in several places, and for the first time, looks as old and haggard as he must surely be. You can see him weakening, and the runners can see it too, though their eagerness to dispose of him results in the death of another at the hands of the grizzled captain.
Jonah: As you and Xanaphia talk with "the Wall" in the background, a small man with look of a clerk about him pushes his way through the throng, and walking up to the wall, begins to write on it with a piece of chalk. It is apparently an advertisement:
Let it be known that Captain Roger T. McCrenshaw of the wellfound vessel Calypso's Grace seeks cartographers and navigators for his vessel. He is prepared to pay good wages, 45 galleons a month (OOC: the typical wages for a common sailor is 10-12 galleons a month) for one educated in the ways of cartography, navigation, and seamanship. The man applying for this position must be sober, intelligent, not given to moral looseness, and competent and capable of obeying orders.
It keeps more than a hundred other such chalk advertisements, some several years old, company.
"Old Man McCrenshaw's payin' good wages for a navigator," comments an old salt nearby. "'Sober,' eh? Guess he would want a dry 'un after his last navigator fired fer drunkeness an' all. Wish I could navigate. I could use 45 galleon a month, I could..." He wanders off, muttering.
Xanaphia is examining the advertisement closely.
"Shall we see this...McCrenshaw?" she asks in her melodious voice, turning to you.
Nicodemus: The sailor leads you to a dock where a sleek-looking square-rigged vessel is docked. She seems to be a fast vessel, if the look of her hull and the fact that she carries royals above her topgallant sails are any indication. Her figurehead is one of a mermaid bearing a shield, and on her stern is printed in letters three feet high, CALYPSO'S GRACE.
"That's 'er," the sailor says proudly. "the Calypso's Grace, a blessed vessel if ever there was one. She's led by Calypso herself, y'know," he says, pointing to the figurehead. "An' y'll not find a better master than Captain McCrenshaw. A driver he may be, but a damned fine captain despite it. This ship 'as the speed record, Ville de St. Yves to Port Andora to Sendun, y'know. Only ninety days! Say, yer a sort of a wizard, aren't ya? What's yer specialty? It's been a while since Calypso's Grace 'as 'ad a ship's mage, an' I'm thinkin' we could use one. I'm well-respected on ship, an' I can put in a good word for ya with the Old Man, if ya want to sign Articles wi' us."
(OOC: If Yellow Sign has left the game for good, I'll play Xanaphia as an NPC, as long as no one minds.)
The bartender turns around just in time to catch both crackling cannonballs right in the chest. The bartender quickly ducks fully behind the bar, and you can hear him cursing volubly as he reloads his musket.
(OOC: You inflicted 9 points more of damage. However, now the bartender has full cover, so you cannot hit him with targetted spells.)
You can no longer lob your magic cannonballs at him, because you cannot see precisely where he is. On the other hand, his bar is covered in spilled liquor. And liquor, and you know, is quite flammable.
Malachi: You move in and your hands close around his hair. As you do so, however, he scores a light hit on your ribs with his cutlass. Ignoring the slight wound, you close on him and grab hm with your free hand.
You draw back your spear and strike. Your spear lodges in the fleshy parts of the runner's throat, and he dies instantly. Pulling up on the spear, you also manage to tear the dead man's head halfway off, spattering you with his blood.
(OOC: You grappled him, denying him his DEX bonus to AC [and he wasn't wearing armor...]. Then you rolled just enough to kill him [I rolled damage to speed things up, I hope you don't mind]. He did, however score 4 points of damage on you when he took his AoO.)
Malthas: You turn and start to flank you newly re-armed opponent, but before you can, a pair of muscled, bear-like arms close around the man's collar and midsection. The giant, brutal looking seaman who you glimpsed wreaking so much havoc upon the other runners has grabbed your opponent, lifted him bodily in the air, and with a roar, thrown him right through the window, like a human harpoon.
Meanwhile, Malachi has also disposed of his opponent in a rather gruesome fashion, and Bimzoole, the gnome, has taken cover from the bartender/sharpshooter behind a table.
Vemuz: After chasing the weasel away, you turn on the halfling's second assailant, the one with the knife.
As you close with him, instead of attacking through the opening you gave him, he blanches and his weapon arm goes limp. Your blazing, furious eyes, general deadly appearance, and the blood running down your chest must create a fearful image.
(OOC: Fearsome Appearance, or whatever that feat you have is called, worked out this time.)
You grasp the man by the shirt collar and midsection, and hoist him into the air. He wriggles, trying to escape, but he can get free of your iron grasp.
Muscles bulging, eyes red, and frothing slightly at the mouth, you let out a roar that everyone in the room hears as you lift the struggling man over your shoulders, turn, and throw him out the window, using the same motions you use to hurl a killing iron at a whale or swordfish. The human projectile traces a lazy arc in the air, arms flailing, then with a shattering of glass, he hurtles through the window. Damp sea air wafts into the room through the gap where the window used to be.
Many of the runners near you edge away in away. You turn and see that the half-orc with the sextant has grabbed his own opponent by the hair, stabbed his spear through the man's throat, and torn the man's head off.
All: As you all finish with your respective actions, you can see Capt. McCrenshaw across the room. He is standing on a table, his back to a corner between two walls. The runners cannot flank him, and they have to come at him head on. Two more lie dead at his feet, but he looks hard pressed. He is wounded in several places, and for the first time, looks as old and haggard as he must surely be. You can see him weakening, and the runners can see it too, though their eagerness to dispose of him results in the death of another at the hands of the grizzled captain.
Jonah: As you and Xanaphia talk with "the Wall" in the background, a small man with look of a clerk about him pushes his way through the throng, and walking up to the wall, begins to write on it with a piece of chalk. It is apparently an advertisement:
Let it be known that Captain Roger T. McCrenshaw of the wellfound vessel Calypso's Grace seeks cartographers and navigators for his vessel. He is prepared to pay good wages, 45 galleons a month (OOC: the typical wages for a common sailor is 10-12 galleons a month) for one educated in the ways of cartography, navigation, and seamanship. The man applying for this position must be sober, intelligent, not given to moral looseness, and competent and capable of obeying orders.
It keeps more than a hundred other such chalk advertisements, some several years old, company.
"Old Man McCrenshaw's payin' good wages for a navigator," comments an old salt nearby. "'Sober,' eh? Guess he would want a dry 'un after his last navigator fired fer drunkeness an' all. Wish I could navigate. I could use 45 galleon a month, I could..." He wanders off, muttering.
Xanaphia is examining the advertisement closely.
"Shall we see this...McCrenshaw?" she asks in her melodious voice, turning to you.
Nicodemus: The sailor leads you to a dock where a sleek-looking square-rigged vessel is docked. She seems to be a fast vessel, if the look of her hull and the fact that she carries royals above her topgallant sails are any indication. Her figurehead is one of a mermaid bearing a shield, and on her stern is printed in letters three feet high, CALYPSO'S GRACE.
"That's 'er," the sailor says proudly. "the Calypso's Grace, a blessed vessel if ever there was one. She's led by Calypso herself, y'know," he says, pointing to the figurehead. "An' y'll not find a better master than Captain McCrenshaw. A driver he may be, but a damned fine captain despite it. This ship 'as the speed record, Ville de St. Yves to Port Andora to Sendun, y'know. Only ninety days! Say, yer a sort of a wizard, aren't ya? What's yer specialty? It's been a while since Calypso's Grace 'as 'ad a ship's mage, an' I'm thinkin' we could use one. I'm well-respected on ship, an' I can put in a good word for ya with the Old Man, if ya want to sign Articles wi' us."
(OOC: If Yellow Sign has left the game for good, I'll play Xanaphia as an NPC, as long as no one minds.)
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). He throws the body of dead Runner aside and makes his way towards the Captain.
