Chapter One, Part One - The Voyage of the Jenivere

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TheTick

Taggart scrambles back and grabs his weapons.  (5ft step)

Initiative List: ShowHide
Bigsby - 24 (-1hp)
Sea Scorpion 1 - 16
Imfei - 11
Sea Scorpion 2 - 8
Sea Scorpion 3 - 7
Yiki - 6 (-2hp)
Taggart - 3 (-1hp)
Babies, chum: tiny, dimpled, fleshy mirrors of our us-ness, that we parents hurl into the future, like leathery footballs of hope. And you've got to get a good spiral on that baby, or evil will make an interception!

SteveRogers

Bigsby drunkenly begins to load a bolt into his crossbow.  In a haze, he fumbles slightly but manages to place a bolt in the slot.  Trembling slightly, he straightens his posture briefly, takes aim at the nearest scorpion, inhales, and lets the bolt loose as he exhales.

Crossbow Attack: ShowHide
Attack 1d20+3 : 3 + 3, total 6
Damage 1d6+1 : 5 + 1, total 6

TheTick

Spoiler: ShowHide
Using the 22 rolled before I screwed up the forum


Bigsby's bolt pierces the head of the sea scorpion, and the creature twitches spastically for a few seconds before collapsing in the sand, dead.  There are no more threats in the immediate vicinity.

Spoiler: ShowHide
Talk amongst yourselves, ask anything you like about the area.
Babies, chum: tiny, dimpled, fleshy mirrors of our us-ness, that we parents hurl into the future, like leathery footballs of hope. And you've got to get a good spiral on that baby, or evil will make an interception!

Lotofsnow

Yiki shakes his head, fighting off the dizziness that plagues him. The shake sends him reeling and before he can focus, he collapses on his butt in the sand. At first, his face is twisted in a snarl, but it quickly changes to a toothy smile. The half-orc starts laughing, the bellowing guffaws echoing until, with a gulp and a shudder, he retches a steaming porridge of crustacean chunks and stew onto himself and the sand.

Standing up and whiping his face, he looks at his companions with a grin.

"All better."

SteveRogers

Bigsby collapses onto the ground and, turning onto his head side, also expels the poisonous porridge from his system.  He slowly rises and then does a slight, unenthused jig.  "Starting to feel a bit better myself. . . Where the blazes are we?"

TheTick

In fact, everyone is starting to feel better - whatever had caused you to black out aboard ship is wearing off.  The beach you are standing in is wide and somewhat flat.  From the debris line on the sand, it appears you were dragged onto the beach by someone.  There are deep furrows in the sand that lead down to the water, which is slowly washing them away as the tide comes in.  Further out is a line of jagged rocks that appear and disappear with the waves...and a ship listing hard to port, smashed.  The Jenivere.

There's movement on the beach now;  There are others from the ship who are waking and sitting up.

Spoiler: ShowHide
If anyone has any checks they'd like to roll to figure out where you are (know: Geography if you have it as an example, something else if you can convince me it's relevant), go for it.  May want to help the other folks on the beach.  ;)
Babies, chum: tiny, dimpled, fleshy mirrors of our us-ness, that we parents hurl into the future, like leathery footballs of hope. And you've got to get a good spiral on that baby, or evil will make an interception!

Lotofsnow

Shouldering Gormfel, Yiki strides over to the closest group of survivors. He methodically flips them over, scanning each for the fat, treacherous face of the cook.

TheTick

#37
Five other survivors are shaken awake, some shouting profanity, some simply surprised, but the cook is not among them.  (New thread with descriptions of these folks coming up)
Babies, chum: tiny, dimpled, fleshy mirrors of our us-ness, that we parents hurl into the future, like leathery footballs of hope. And you've got to get a good spiral on that baby, or evil will make an interception!

TheTick

Sasha is the first to speak.  "Ugh, what happened?  Last thing I remember is sitting down at dinner..."
Babies, chum: tiny, dimpled, fleshy mirrors of our us-ness, that we parents hurl into the future, like leathery footballs of hope. And you've got to get a good spiral on that baby, or evil will make an interception!

Lotofsnow

"Poisoned! Marooned! That's what happened!"

Yiki is more frustrated than enraged, though, with the half-orc, it can be difficult to differentiate between the two.

TheTick

Sasha shrugs, apparently deciding not to be bothered by Yiki's rough handling of her.  "I guess poison would make sense - the cook's food was bad, but it couldn't knock us out all at once without help."

The gnome, Gelik, speaks next, while carefully brushing sand off of his clothes. "That still leaves the question of where we are unanswered.  Does anyone know where we are?  I see none of the ship's crew is among us, but perhaps one of you have some skill with navigation or reading the stars?"
Babies, chum: tiny, dimpled, fleshy mirrors of our us-ness, that we parents hurl into the future, like leathery footballs of hope. And you've got to get a good spiral on that baby, or evil will make an interception!

SteveRogers

Bigbsy eyes the coastline curiously, "This seems familiar to me."

Knowledge Geography 1d20+2 : 10 + 2, total 12

SteveRogers

Bigsby blinks with a memory from an ode he once performed at a wedding.  He points out at the sea, "Yiki, my friend.  You see those rocks?  Surely, you've heard the tales.  This is Smuggler's Shiv.  It gets its name from the knife-like shores and jagged rocks that wreck many ships.  This is not a safe place, my friends."

Lotofsnow

"Ha! I am not a ship. What do I have to fear from some pointy rocks?"

SteveRogers

Bigbsy shudders, "Aye.  But it be not the rocks we need fear, but those who collect the treasures of those ships wrecked here.  And the spirits of those lost to these waters."