Deep Water and Shoals - A Swashbuckling Campaign
- Thread starter Bob Aberton
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Bob Aberton
First Post
Vemuz, Nicodemus, et al,
The boat crests another swell with a shower of spray and icy foam, then begins its long slide down the dark, white-flecked hill.
In the valley between the two waves, in the valley into which the jollyboat is descending, you can see a black-haired head and an arms still clutching a glowing sunrod, bobbing forlornly in the cold water. The arm and head, and the rest of the body, belong to Lupe Sanchez.
He sees you, and raises one arm weakly out of the water. His shout is choked with saltwater and blown away by the wind before it reaches your ears.
But as the jollyboat reaches the trough of the wave, Lupe is already rising up the shoulder of the next wave. Soon he has crested it and slid out of view down the other side.
It is obvious that the jollyboat will never get close enough to the stricken sailor, and if it does, it runs a grave risk of running him over. With the distance shortened to about 10 yards, it is almost impossible for the boat to be steered nearer with any accuracy, given the wild wind and raging seas.
Someone will have to go over the side and swim for floating seaman.
The boat crests another swell with a shower of spray and icy foam, then begins its long slide down the dark, white-flecked hill.
In the valley between the two waves, in the valley into which the jollyboat is descending, you can see a black-haired head and an arms still clutching a glowing sunrod, bobbing forlornly in the cold water. The arm and head, and the rest of the body, belong to Lupe Sanchez.
He sees you, and raises one arm weakly out of the water. His shout is choked with saltwater and blown away by the wind before it reaches your ears.
But as the jollyboat reaches the trough of the wave, Lupe is already rising up the shoulder of the next wave. Soon he has crested it and slid out of view down the other side.
It is obvious that the jollyboat will never get close enough to the stricken sailor, and if it does, it runs a grave risk of running him over. With the distance shortened to about 10 yards, it is almost impossible for the boat to be steered nearer with any accuracy, given the wild wind and raging seas.
Someone will have to go over the side and swim for floating seaman.
dead_radish
Explorer
Malthas sleeps the sleep of the tired, fully missing out on the excitement. 
(Didn't want you to think I wasn't here....)
(Didn't want you to think I wasn't here....)
Bob Aberton
First Post
Nicodemus,
You plunge into the foaming waves.
The water is colder than you expected, so cold it feels as though you are swimming in boiling, rather than cold, water.
You dive underneath the surface, as far down as you dare. Down hear it is calmer. The fury and excitement of the storm on the surface has no effect on the calm, almost unmoving waters down here. It is easy to forget that there is a full gale in progress fa few fathoms above your head.
Kicking your powerful fins, you move toward the thrashing sailor, whose legs you can just make out, perhaps 15 feet in front of you and a few fathoms above you. You move slower than you expected. Down here, everything has a dreamlike quality to it.
Finally, though, you reach the floating tar and surface next to him.
"Holy Calypso!" he shouts, seeing your gills. "It is a mer-dwarf!"
You grab him by the collar and slowly haul him toward the boat.
Malachi,
When Lupe is pushed aboard, followed shortly after by Nicodemus, whose gills and fins are rapidly fading, you can see that he is in bad shape. He has evidently swallowed a lot of seawater, and his lips and fingers are already turning blue.
Vemuz,
With Lupe aboard, you strike out back for the ship, the men pulling with all their might, anxious to be out of this watery hell and on board the (relatively) safe ship.
As you steer toward the ship, you notice Lupe, lying drenched and semiconscious in the bottom of the boat. Or, more specifically, you notice something he is wearing.
As most sailors do, he wears a knife around his neck, hung from a lanyard. His is evidently quite old, though no signs of rust show, and the edge is worn down by many sharpenings.
But that is not what you notice the most. For what you notice most is the words carved into the handle. Those words are somewhat familiar to you, and they figure greatly in legends told by the Twice-born. Or rather, the ship that bore those words for its name figures greatly in Twiceborn legends:
BLACK MAST
You plunge into the foaming waves.
The water is colder than you expected, so cold it feels as though you are swimming in boiling, rather than cold, water.
You dive underneath the surface, as far down as you dare. Down hear it is calmer. The fury and excitement of the storm on the surface has no effect on the calm, almost unmoving waters down here. It is easy to forget that there is a full gale in progress fa few fathoms above your head.
Kicking your powerful fins, you move toward the thrashing sailor, whose legs you can just make out, perhaps 15 feet in front of you and a few fathoms above you. You move slower than you expected. Down here, everything has a dreamlike quality to it.
Finally, though, you reach the floating tar and surface next to him.
"Holy Calypso!" he shouts, seeing your gills. "It is a mer-dwarf!"
You grab him by the collar and slowly haul him toward the boat.
Malachi,
When Lupe is pushed aboard, followed shortly after by Nicodemus, whose gills and fins are rapidly fading, you can see that he is in bad shape. He has evidently swallowed a lot of seawater, and his lips and fingers are already turning blue.
Vemuz,
With Lupe aboard, you strike out back for the ship, the men pulling with all their might, anxious to be out of this watery hell and on board the (relatively) safe ship.
As you steer toward the ship, you notice Lupe, lying drenched and semiconscious in the bottom of the boat. Or, more specifically, you notice something he is wearing.
As most sailors do, he wears a knife around his neck, hung from a lanyard. His is evidently quite old, though no signs of rust show, and the edge is worn down by many sharpenings.
But that is not what you notice the most. For what you notice most is the words carved into the handle. Those words are somewhat familiar to you, and they figure greatly in legends told by the Twice-born. Or rather, the ship that bore those words for its name figures greatly in Twiceborn legends:
BLACK MAST
It is only a brief expression, and in the raging tempest most likely none even notice it's passage. Starting at his eyes, the flinty reflection of glimmering gold echoes from somewhere far away. It moves down to his nose, the nostrils flaring in excitement. Finally it reaches his mouth, his jaw clinched fiercely shut like a ballista pulled far too taught...
Only a moment and then it is gone.
Vemuz barks out the orders, and now his voice is notably more fierce than normal. "Pull hard tars! Perhaps we might make it back alive after all..."
Only a moment and then it is gone.
Vemuz barks out the orders, and now his voice is notably more fierce than normal. "Pull hard tars! Perhaps we might make it back alive after all..."
Tonguez
A suffusion of yellow
With Lupe aboard Malachi waste no time in tending to the poorly Tar as best he can in a boat in a storm.
"Claypso gev dhis mon stren't t' sarvive" He says as moves his hands across the mans chest casting a Minor Curing
He then calls on all the learning he got from his mother to try and help the man recover
(ooc so cast Cure Minor Wounds then Heal check 14+6=20. I'm assuming he still has at least 1 HP (as he is able to shout) and the cure minor and heal check should be sufficient...)
"Claypso gev dhis mon stren't t' sarvive" He says as moves his hands across the mans chest casting a Minor Curing
He then calls on all the learning he got from his mother to try and help the man recover
(ooc so cast Cure Minor Wounds then Heal check 14+6=20. I'm assuming he still has at least 1 HP (as he is able to shout) and the cure minor and heal check should be sufficient...)
Bob Aberton
First Post
Malachi,
Calypso's blessings settle on him, and he coughs up seemingly half the ocean and looks around dimly.
"Thank you," he says vaguely, barely opening his eyes. "I...owe you...a...favor for that, hey?"
He then lapses back into semiconsciousness, mumbling one discernible word;
"...rum..."
Vemuz,
As he comes around, he notices you in command of the boat.
"You...are a brave man...Mr. Thriceborn. I owe you one - big, hey?"
All,
With the jollyboat safely aboard and Lupe down below in his bunk, recovering from his ordeal, sails are trimmed and CALYPSO'S GRACE slowly moves on, running before the gale once more.
When dawn breaks (a few hours later), the gale begins to subside, and the normal watch schedule resumes. It is Port's Watch; Nicodemus and Malthas are on duty, and Bimzoole and Vemuz can turn in, if they wish.
Malachi,
The captain turns to you.
"Wonder how far we've drifted, Mr. Legba. Mind takin' a sight an' tellin' us where we are?"
(OOC: Profession Navigator check, please. You know the drill...)
Calypso's blessings settle on him, and he coughs up seemingly half the ocean and looks around dimly.
"Thank you," he says vaguely, barely opening his eyes. "I...owe you...a...favor for that, hey?"
He then lapses back into semiconsciousness, mumbling one discernible word;
"...rum..."
Vemuz,
As he comes around, he notices you in command of the boat.
"You...are a brave man...Mr. Thriceborn. I owe you one - big, hey?"
All,
With the jollyboat safely aboard and Lupe down below in his bunk, recovering from his ordeal, sails are trimmed and CALYPSO'S GRACE slowly moves on, running before the gale once more.
When dawn breaks (a few hours later), the gale begins to subside, and the normal watch schedule resumes. It is Port's Watch; Nicodemus and Malthas are on duty, and Bimzoole and Vemuz can turn in, if they wish.
Malachi,
The captain turns to you.
"Wonder how far we've drifted, Mr. Legba. Mind takin' a sight an' tellin' us where we are?"
(OOC: Profession Navigator check, please. You know the drill...)
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