D&D 5E Spell & Crossbones

[Quickleaf]

OOC: A cup of rum is 4 cp, so 8 cp.

Rivulets of muddy water channel down the streets of Nassau as Kid makes his way up the hill toward the washed out white and pink walls of the Colonial Hotel. The sun begins to creep from behind the clouds, and the smell of the fields after fresh rain fills the air. As he makes his way past several buildings and an inn, Kid is clipped in the shoulder by a tall lithe man moving at a fast past downhill. The man, caramel skinned like Kid and with a charming animated face, seems to be as surprised at their run-in as Kid is. A small leather satchel has slipped from the man's hands, and as he gathers it back up Kid notices some kind of voodoo gris-gris or mojo doll sticking out of the satchel for a moment.

"Littl' rain an' dees roads get slippery, don' dey, Kid?" He says with a soft smile, though it's clear he was a bit rattled before running into Kid. When he spots Kid's hand holding onto the watch thru his pant pocket, the man nods. "Keep care o' your package, an' I'll keep care o' min den." Then the man ties the satchel back up, and heads back down toward the docks at a quick pace, enigmatic gaze lingering on Kid a bit longer.

Once Kid reaches the Colonial Hotel at the hilltop, even before he gets to the attendant at the front gate, sure enough he spots Katerina del Corazon just outside the courtyard talking with an Afro-Caribbean woman.

 

[Shayuri]

Nia can't help but stare after the bizarre merchant for a moment after he leaves, then looks back at Katerina and Tourbillion.

"And on dat note, I tink our business here is done. Captain, we've much to do before we obtain our ship, and time is against us. If de merchant returns in time, de skin he has will be of use. Odderwise we can manage widdout it."

 

[CanadienneBacon]

[section]Kid picked his way through the muddy channels of stormwater. Temptation became too much, though, so he jumped in one particularly deep hole filled with mud. The water splashed deliciously. He jumped a second time and laughed out loud, thrilling at his wet breeches.

When the caramel-skinned man interrupted his rain puddle reverie, Kid looked up, alarmed. His hand curled possessively around the watch. It was special to him, and he didn't want it to be pick-pocketed. The lad checked his legs, hair, and breeches pockets to make sure nothing had been planted on or taken from his person, then eyed the voo-doo man's satchel. "Wot's that, that there in the bag?" Kid pointed at the satchel, waiting for the peculiar man to answer. A moment later, however, the cutting figure of Katerina de la Corazon captured Kid's attention. The boy cast an odd look at the caramel-skinned man, then took off at a run. He made for the Spanish lady and her Afro-Caribbean compatriot.

"Kat! Kat! Cap'n Kat!" Kid flung himself at Katerina, hugging her tightly about the waist. His grasp was full of boyish delight, but something of the man also lurked within Kid's clasping of her waist. Her bosom was tightly corseted to display her figure, after all, and Kid had grown six inches taller since the last she'd seen of him aboard her father's sailing vessel. By his stench, however, Kid hadn't given up the hooch, nor had he acquired an interest in regular bathing.

Kid released Katerina from his embrace. Excitement danced wildly in his eyes. "Come quick, m'lady? I gots someone ye might like ter be treatin' wit'. Down at the Blackreef."[/section]

OOC: Does Kid recognize the caramel-colored man? Does Kid think the man was casting some kind of voo-doo spell on Kid? On Katerina?

 

[Quickleaf]

OOC: Kid pretty much grew up in Nassau (or a ship's hold), I'm imagining. So even if he doesn't know names, he recognizes faces. Kid would definitely have seen the man around the docks, probably coming and going from the Winchelsea, meaning he's dealing with privateer Captain Read Wallace. As far as Kid could tell there wasn't any spell-casting happening, but then Kid's no expert about magic, right?

OOC: Also, pardon any "time warping" that might be happening while we move at "the speed of post" rather than strictly adhering to an imaginary clock. This helps us keep the game moving.

 

[Quickleaf]

Etienne go to his warehouse, left there most of his most precious wares and packaged some goods for the Indian family. Some fur, some alcohol and his pine draughtproofing resin and pitch. And the dreaded white skin. He then puts his canoe in the water and paddles on cruise speed to forbid over exhausting himself as the seasoned voyageur he is. He prays God he will not cross 2 legs or flippered critters on the road... and check his weapons in case he'll get trouble.

And he paddles.. and paddles.... longing for his destination...

Etienne's paddle clips the waters at a mesmerizing pace. Once he is out of the surf and into the harbor, the sea state is calm. Detritus floats in the ocean from last night's storm - bottles, broken buoys, coconuts, driftwood. Within 20 minutes, he is rounding Tong's Rock, sea stack that makes him mind the depth. Mostly it seems that a ship of 12 feet draft could pass thru here, though there are shallower spots he takes note of. The salty air warms his face as the sun comes out. Within a total of 40 minutes he is rounding Spencer's Point, and gets peculiar looks from several of the fishermen who haven't seen a boat like his before.

A quick pause to stretch his arms and chat with the fishermen, directs him to several fishing weird, and a green house amidst a cluster of silver pines. The home of the Verguenzas. For a trained paddler like Etienne, it's a quick 5 minute paddle to shore using the swell to aid his landing. Many rushes grow at the ocean's edge here, so many it would be easy to hide his canoe amongst them if need be - no wonder they call it Rushes Bay. Strong youths of mixed white and Taino stock loafing by the old pier give him hard looks as he approaches.

OOC: Here's a historical map of New Providence Island for reference, note that North is DOWN on this map. http://tile.loc.gov/image-services/jp2.py?data=/service/gmd/gmd4/g4982/g4982n/ar175100.jp2&res=3

 

[peterka99]

Etienne takes a look at the fishing boats and fishermen, counting how many are there, how many seems to be from the indian family and which boat needs pine pitch. He is more comfortable with Indians than Whites are raise his hand in peace in Arawak way. The contrast is high between his perfect mastery of this situation compared to his wariness back in Nassau.

"May the Zemi grant you a good catch today!" (the Arawak gods).

OOC: got a 16+5 =21 for perception . The sun comes out ? I though it was the morning. Invoke contacts fortune for correct behavior (I have some cliché on mind). He speaks Arawak (Patois feature).

Etienne then paddles a little closer and pocket out and show his pipe and tobacco as trading calumet, hoping this symbol is also known to the Arawaks. So bad is his memory...

 

[Fenris]

D'avard eyes Old Zef and Caillou with wary predatory eyes glistening with malice in the shadows of the candlelight basement. The faint smell of soap suds from the laundry upstairs wafts thru the air. "Ah, that's the fancy term landsmen use, isn't it? Lycanthropy," he growls the word, sounding it out. "I didn't contract nothing. It was a gift bestowed by Cap'n for my many years of service to his ship and crew. He said no man would be able to bring us down after we received the gift...guess it's true since it took a dwarf and a bird-freak." Laughing bitterly, D'avard stops his struggling against the ropes, realizing he is well and truly bound.

Old Zef laughs dryly. Old Zef waves his hand and a pipe appears, already packed with aromatic tobacco. A small flame pops into life on his thumb as he lights his pipe before shaking out his finger. He takes a long pull on the pipe before replying.

"Heh, I guess yer Cap'n didn't have no gift for semantics. And I am sure Miss Katarina could have taken you down, but again she ain't no man neither. A gift eh? I suppose up until now it was a pretty good gift eh? And did yer Cap't have this gift too? And you need to be waging that sea-wolf tongue a bit more iffin ye wish to keep that tattoo. I do wonder about yer.....condition" say the crusty old sea dog as he tosses a conspicuously silver coin in the air with seeming carelessness.

 

[Quickleaf]

Verguenzas (Arawak family)

OOC: There was a storm last night. "The sun comes out" because it took till late morning for the lingering clouds from the storm to burn off so the sun could shine thru.

The Taino youths aren't sure what to make of the tall white man in his beaver-skin hat. Of the bunch, one who looks oldest and strongest, with a shell and coconut fiber necklace and a smooth brown chest, rises from the pier where he was teaching another how to fashion a fish hook. He looks Etienne up and down, "What the Zemi don't grant, we haul for ourselves. In white words: Idle hands are the devil's workshop." He hands Etienne one corner of a rope going into the water with a deliberate look.

It appears they are hauling up traps they left in the water overnight, and the youths have invited Etienne to lend a hand. Such sorts of 'tests' are not uncommon among natives in the north America.

As he begins to pull on another line, the youth studies Etienne. "I've heard about you. They call you the man with the fur hat. Say you deal fairly with what remains of the Arawak." His gaze lingers, as if to say he will be watching Etienne to see whether this is true. "My name is Luca." While they draw up the lines, Etienne notices several youths are beginning to put more muscle into it, pulling faster, glancing at each other with competitive grins. Luca doesn't smile, but he does keep his gaze on Etienne as he begins to haul faster and faster.

"So what bring you...uhn...to Rushes Bay, fur hat?"

OOC: If you want to play their line-hauling game, make a DC 13 Strength (Athletics) check to see how you fare.

 

[Quickleaf]

Safehouse

Old Zef laughs dryly. Old Zef waves his hand and a pipe appears, already packed with aromatic tobacco. A small flame pops into life on his thumb as he lights his pipe before shaking out his finger. He takes a long pull on the pipe before replying.

"Heh, I guess yer Cap'n didn't have no gift for semantics. And I am sure Miss Katarina could have taken you down, but again she ain't no man neither. A gift eh? I suppose up until now it was a pretty good gift eh? And did yer Cap't have this gift too? And you need to be waging that sea-wolf tongue a bit more iffin ye wish to keep that tattoo. I do wonder about yer.....condition" say the crusty old sea dog as he tosses a conspicuously silver coin in the air with seeming carelessness.

No longer struggling against the ropes, D'avard glares at the silver coin, restraining a growl born from natural aversion to the element. "Aye, a gift. Cap'n was the first, far as I know. He's been alive a long time, Cap'n has. Gave our ship her namesake." Licking his bottom lip of caked blood from their fight earlier, D'avard glances about the basement of the laundry house , getting his bearings. "Condition? I though that's what they called dwarfism. Little man, you should know Cap'n won't stop till he gets the spirit on The Coral Curse. If he can't have the Tengu King to do it, then he'll find another way. Cap'n always finds a way."

 

[peterka99]

OOC: 6+8= 14 I will not impress them that much this morning.

"There is time for business, and there is time to do the job right!"

He then hauls the nets, concentrating on the game, and fares quite poorly on his on opinion; well, good enough for a civilized man. In Spanish and Arawak, he chats and taunt the youths gently, being cheerful and competitive, slowing down a bit when the others slow down. He doesn't want to win, just to be on par.