Queenie
Queen of Everything
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Last edited:
D&D 5E Spell & Crossbones
- Thread starter Quickleaf
- Start date
Quickleaf
Legend
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I don't really think there is a "too often", just what works (or doesnt work) for the group.
Unsung
First Post
Caillou unceremoniously sweeps the books and maps from the table. They fall among the folds of his coat and are gone.
Then the Tengu King, King Rook, Doctor l'Arcand, lowers himself in the house's one intact chair, behind the creaky table, in the room at the end of the dark hall.
A fire has been allowed to burn down in the hearth and the walls are smudged with eerie-looking marks: some voodoo, some Norse runes, some spooky-looking nonsense, for appearances and atmosphere. Bunches of leaves, feathers, and bones are tied against ragged drapes of a broken window, framing the dark and brooding sky. A storm looms outside. One guttering lantern smolders on its hook.
Caillou reaches into his pocket, scattering some feathers, seashells, and odd-shaped stones from the beach across the tabletop. The scene is set.
"Here they come now, up the hill," whispers Verner the kobold. His accent is heavy.
"Good," Lorelei nods primly, standing on the rickety stairs. By now the gypsy woman has donned the somewhat patchy dress, and assumed an air of disheveled nobility. "Places, everyone."
"...Who is everyone?" Verner complains, moving away from the boarded-up window. "Am I everyone? There's no one else here."
"Shush!"
Lorelei sweeps up the stairs. Verner ducks into the dark hole underneath them.
Then the Tengu King, King Rook, Doctor l'Arcand, lowers himself in the house's one intact chair, behind the creaky table, in the room at the end of the dark hall.
A fire has been allowed to burn down in the hearth and the walls are smudged with eerie-looking marks: some voodoo, some Norse runes, some spooky-looking nonsense, for appearances and atmosphere. Bunches of leaves, feathers, and bones are tied against ragged drapes of a broken window, framing the dark and brooding sky. A storm looms outside. One guttering lantern smolders on its hook.
Caillou reaches into his pocket, scattering some feathers, seashells, and odd-shaped stones from the beach across the tabletop. The scene is set.
"Here they come now, up the hill," whispers Verner the kobold. His accent is heavy.
"Good," Lorelei nods primly, standing on the rickety stairs. By now the gypsy woman has donned the somewhat patchy dress, and assumed an air of disheveled nobility. "Places, everyone."
"...Who is everyone?" Verner complains, moving away from the boarded-up window. "Am I everyone? There's no one else here."
"Shush!"
Lorelei sweeps up the stairs. Verner ducks into the dark hole underneath them.
Queenie
Queen of Everything
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Katerina follows Nia Steeleyes up the hill then stops a distance off to look at the dark, strange, abandoned looking house. She gives Nia a long look of disbelief while she studies the house, looking for traps. Finally she waves an arm towards the house, "After you Senorita." She gives a look to Hugo and Zef, her eyes telling them to stay alert and wary.
Hannerdyn
Explorer
"Ahhh..." Hugo lets out a long sigh on seeing the old ship, allowing the others to move up the hill. "What a beauty," he whispered.
She had seen battle and come back with her scars accenting her shape. She had battled and come through, remaining above the deep, still alive and vital. Hugo was no shipmaster or boatswain, but he could appreciate the particular beauty of a ship, the craft of wood and wind upon the glide of the sea. Her rails had been polished by hands of men who loved her like a bride, and clung to her like a mother before they went below. Haunted? Ahh, no thought Hugo. Spirited more like.
"Will she sail, 'Zef?" Hugo asked the other dwarf hopefully.
She had seen battle and come back with her scars accenting her shape. She had battled and come through, remaining above the deep, still alive and vital. Hugo was no shipmaster or boatswain, but he could appreciate the particular beauty of a ship, the craft of wood and wind upon the glide of the sea. Her rails had been polished by hands of men who loved her like a bride, and clung to her like a mother before they went below. Haunted? Ahh, no thought Hugo. Spirited more like.
"Will she sail, 'Zef?" Hugo asked the other dwarf hopefully.
[sblock=Barrington]
On hearing the words outside, Barrington pulls on his trousers and dons a shirt. Then grabs his pistol and blade.
A quick kiss of Polly's forehead and a whisper of "Back soon, Prydwen," and he's leaning up against the door.
He listens.
Perception 1d20+1=17.
When he thinks it's clear (and one he's learned what he can), he opens the door set to follow at a distance.[/sblock]
On hearing the words outside, Barrington pulls on his trousers and dons a shirt. Then grabs his pistol and blade.
A quick kiss of Polly's forehead and a whisper of "Back soon, Prydwen," and he's leaning up against the door.
He listens.
Perception 1d20+1=17.
When he thinks it's clear (and one he's learned what he can), he opens the door set to follow at a distance.[/sblock]
Quickleaf
Legend
Though she is a battle-worn schooner that will take many hands to get in working order, The Coral Curse ignites a certain fire in your bellies just seeing her pale countenance silhouetted by the moonlit storm clouds. Sailors talk of the call of the sea, but this ship, she seems to almost call to you. It is hard to imagine she was a plague vessel several months ago. After glancing over your shoulders at the terrible majesty of The Coral Curse, you head south toward the hills overlooking Nassau, making your way thru tall grasses until you hit a trailhead. Houses and hearth fires become scarce. Somewhere a pack of wild dogs yipe and howl. The dim light of the moon and stars guides you as you follow Nia Steeleyes up toward the ramshackle house on the hill. Its roof is canted awkwardly, and a single ghostly light glows within. The vines grow thicker at the sides of the trail, like a verdant hand reaching from the jungle inching year-by-year toward the house on the hill to engulf it. The way the wind rattles the leaves almost sounds as if spirit voices were whispering thru the jungle.
[SBLOCK=Barrington]Prydwen stirs slightly with a contented expression on her face. With his clothes and boots on, belt and weapons secured, Barrington slips from Prydwen's room below the Stuffed Swan inn. The shadows of the men cut across a narrow footpath connecting the fort road to one of the many hilly ridges overlooking Nassau. They move in single file. It looks like there are six or seven well-armed men, though the one in the rear clutches his side as if injured. At the front of the pack is a fierce-looking barrel-chested men with unkempt hair who speaks with a slender musket-bearing figure as if they were conferring on strategy. Between exposure to the high winds and following at a safe distance, Barrington cannot make out anymore of what they say, though he does recognize the pained voice of the menacing pirate he bandaged earlier.
After half an hour of hiking, the men have fallen silent, speaking in hushed whispers. Barrington realizes their destination: the house on the hill. From his vantage point behind a tree, Barrington sees the men loading their firearms. It looks like the slender musket-bearer and another of the pirates are moving off into the thick jungle around the ramshackle house. The others secure their firearms in their holsters, and listen for a moment. Barrington can hear voices filter thru the stormy tropical night; he soon recognizes the voices of Katerina, Hugo, Nia, and Old Zef conversing as they ascend a trail toward the house from a different direction.[/SBLOCK]
[SBLOCK=Barrington]Prydwen stirs slightly with a contented expression on her face. With his clothes and boots on, belt and weapons secured, Barrington slips from Prydwen's room below the Stuffed Swan inn. The shadows of the men cut across a narrow footpath connecting the fort road to one of the many hilly ridges overlooking Nassau. They move in single file. It looks like there are six or seven well-armed men, though the one in the rear clutches his side as if injured. At the front of the pack is a fierce-looking barrel-chested men with unkempt hair who speaks with a slender musket-bearing figure as if they were conferring on strategy. Between exposure to the high winds and following at a safe distance, Barrington cannot make out anymore of what they say, though he does recognize the pained voice of the menacing pirate he bandaged earlier.
After half an hour of hiking, the men have fallen silent, speaking in hushed whispers. Barrington realizes their destination: the house on the hill. From his vantage point behind a tree, Barrington sees the men loading their firearms. It looks like the slender musket-bearer and another of the pirates are moving off into the thick jungle around the ramshackle house. The others secure their firearms in their holsters, and listen for a moment. Barrington can hear voices filter thru the stormy tropical night; he soon recognizes the voices of Katerina, Hugo, Nia, and Old Zef conversing as they ascend a trail toward the house from a different direction.[/SBLOCK]
Last edited:
Queenie
Queen of Everything
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