Michael quickly escapes the spines directly next to him, heading up the stairs to the deck above the navigation room, avoiding stopping directly above the fire in the navigation room, throwing one of hildas axes back at the spines, all while calling out to the rest of the wild bunch, "My fellows, we might want to get away from the Large Chrysalis! Whatever is coming out of there isn't going to come out happy. This thing is gonna die under its own mystical weight, like a beached whale, and it is going to be furious about it!"
Geth roll 1d20+6 to see if Michael can throw a handaxe at a stationary target
to see if Michael can throw a handaxe at a stationary target:
"Well this took a turn," Urixes grunts, ignoring the sting of the shards as he hurls arcane energy at the growths and stalks.
Geth, roll 1d20+8 for Eldritch Blast 1
Geth, roll 1d10+4 for Force Damage 1
Geth, roll 1d10+8 for Eldritch Blast 2
Geth, roll 1d10+4 for Force Damage 2
Geth, roll 1d20+8 for Grasp of the Deep
Geth, roll 1d8 for Cold Damage
"So, from what I know about cocoons, the things that come out are rarely weaker. Though hopefully he comes out prettier. Either way, I think following Michael is a good idea. We can huck weapons at those pod things as we move."
((OOC: Hucking weapons with a -4 penalty is going to be a treat! The bunch just sitting on the stairs, throwing everything within reach and hitting nothing ))
Jack *slices* the Spiky Growth away from the Ship’s Wheel! The gross pustule spills at his feet, hot broken glass quickly cooling in the rain…
Urixes *blasts* away the Glassy Stalks underfoot with an eldritch missile, and uses his Grasp of the Deep to *crush* the Spiky Growth at the back of the Navigation Room
…
The Cocoon *pulses and swirls* from within. Conrad’s Egg expands rapidly, like a balloon, until it seems like the pressue can’t *possibly* continue. And then…
*IT EXPLODES!* Glass and a *plume* of fire *bursts* out from the Navigation Room!
[Oak, you were the only one in the room when the Cocoon reached its detonation point. Please make a Dex Saving to hit the deck/get under cover before the thing manages to blow- (DC 15). On a success, Oak has successfully dodged the blast and takes no damage. On a partial success (DC 10), Oak manages to partially dodge the blast, and takes half damage (4d6 slashing). On a failure (below DC 10), Oak takes full 4d6 slashing damage from the blast.]
The scattershot of the glass and organic debris flies throughout the room, spreading the already growing fire to each corner!
The thing that was Conrad, now Conrad-Changed, emerges from the Navigation Room out into the rain, the fire growing steadily through the swinging doors behind him. The Demon-thing is sinewy, alien, but it retains Conrad’s eyes, somehow…
Conrad-Changed looks around at the gathered Wild Bunch, familiar, human vengeance stabbing out from those eyes. But something is wrong…the creature suddenly falls to his knees, holding the sides of his head and *howling*. The glassy spines which emerge from his skin seem to press out and in against his will. Conrad’s body looks impossibly contorted in places, and Conrad seems to be in *terrible* pain.
From where he stoops in front of you, Conrad-Changed suddenly pulls himself up. Looking at Urixes and Arno nearby, the thing *hurls* his arms forward, and they *fly* from his shoulders like glass-stuck taffy!
Geth roll 1d20+6 Dhalsim Claw L. (Arno)
Geth roll 1d8+3 piercing
Geth roll 1d20+6 Dhalsim Claw R.
Geth roll 1d8+3 piercing (Urixes
But the effort seems to take its toll: as Conrad-Changed drags his arms back, it’s clear stretching his limits has caused hemorrhaging damage somewhere inside his mutant body…
Geth roll 2d4+3 damage (Conrad)
CURRENT MAPS-
GM NOTE: The Fire in the Navigation Room has grown and spread. Jack’s Fire and Michael’s Fire will meet on the next turn, growing the blaze exponentially. All Spiky Growths have been destroyed; two Glassy Stalks snapped off the Cocoon when it exploded, and remain along the Quarter Deck. Shoot me any questions you may have: turn to the Wild Bunch!
"That...that poor thing. I think we've moved from fighting an enemy to putting a sick creature out of it's misery. Conrad...I'm...I'm sorry it came to this, if you are still in there in any way I'm sorry, but you will be freed."
Knowing Jack, Urixes, and Oak can more than handle the damage, but that fire will get out of hand if nothing is done, Arno summons a cooling rain to extinguish the inferno.
OOC : Arno casts create water, 2nd level spell to put out as much fire as possible with a 35ft cube.
Oak was just turning back from the pod he had drained when the hair on his neck stood up again. Instincts kicking in, he threw himself to the floor, curling himself into a small ball. He hears glass shattering against the walls, and feels the heat of fire against his back. Thankfully, however, he is unharmed.
Jumping to his feet, the Shifter sees the grotesque form of Conrad charging his companions, and a new fire explodes inside of him. The cold seething hatred the murdering Conrad has instilled in him grew into a white hot flame now seeing this demon form attacking his friends. A growl started in his throat as he set in motion, becoming a full yell as he charged forward and threw himself into battle.
OOC:Reckless again.
Geth, roll 2d20k1+8 for Attacking Demon Conrad
Geth, roll 1d12+7 for Damage
Geth, roll 2d20k1+8 for Attacking Demon Conrad 2
Geth, roll 1d12+7 for Damage
Michael too decides that Oak, Jack,
And Urixies should be able to contain the thrashings of this dying wretch. Michael elects to dive down into the flames and mystical rain of the navigation room to start grabbing every scrap of chart he can, hoping to identify and grab any key ones that can be salvaged.
Oak takes a *devastating* swing at the Conrad-Changed, *smashing* his Axe into the creature's chest and *shattering* glass quill and bone alike (-19 damage!)
Arno calls upon the forces of water to quell the inferno! A torrent opens up in the Navigation Room, falling along the blaze and soaking the planks and papers below!
Michael *darts* back down to the Navigation Room, stomping among sodden, still burning ashes as he retrieves armfuls of papers from the mess as quickly as he can
(The Navigation Room is wrecked, but due to Arno's actions, the shell of the place will be salvageable later. Captain Ari will be *very* happy you saved this section of the ship; Refi the Sea Artist will be *very* grateful to Arno and Michael that you saved most of the maps and charts, even if they'll need to be *thoroughly* hung out and dried for a while...)
With a yelp Jack dodges a piece of exploding glass coccoon that embeds itself in the wood behind him. Never a dull moment. He watches Conrad transform into shapes that look less and less, well, Conrad.
"...don't suppose you wanna talk? No?"
Rubbing his shoulder with a wince he approaches the ex crewmate once more, raising his weapon and striking at it while it's distracted with the angry Shifter on the other side.
Geth, roll 1d20+7 for Saber Strike at Conrad?
Geth, roll 1d8+5 for Saber Damage
Geth, roll 1d20+7 for Saber Strike at Conrad?
Geth, roll 1d8+5 for Saber Damage
Jack catches the Demon-thing with one vicious slash of his saber, and then *another*! (-21 damage!). Conrad reels back from the assault, shivers going up his scales and an involuntary shaking coming into his hands...
Conrad-Changed hangs on by a thread, the last of the Mutineers aboard your Ship...Urixes ( @Denada ), *FINISH HIM*!
"Ah shit", Michael shoves all the maps under his left arm, draws his wand pops the cork on the flask in the center of his chest, and takes a good draw of the liquid before administering it to urixies wounds.
"Wait, wait, I can do it," Urixes groans, finding that he's not quite as unconscious as he felt. "Hey Conrad," he turns to the creature, "I think you need to take a break."
Geth, roll 1d20+8 for Eldritch Blast 1
Geth, roll 1d10+4 for Force Damage 1
Geth, roll 1d10+8 for Eldritch Blast 2
Geth, roll 1d10+4 for Force Damage 2
Geth, roll 1d20+8 for Grasp of the Deep
Geth, roll 1d8 for Cold Damage
Conrad-Changed clatters to the deck, the soft tinkle of glass barely audible over the rain as he falls. The light goes out of his eyes midway through, and you may even have a moment of pity for the mutineer. That horrid, unnaturally altered body hits the deck, and splays out in all directions. Whatever strange biology breathed life into him is quickly fading: the glass starts to dissolve like thick icicles, and the green skin starts to crack and liquefy, soon resembling more of a puddle than either a man or a demon.
The Flying Dutchman at this point has reverted to ancient, blackened planks, and years-old torn netting: it clatters harmlessly against the Starboard side of the ship and falls into the ocean, drifting off in the Whispered Curse’s wake.
From the doors along the Main Deck, the rest of the Crew is slowly emerging: haggard, but on their feet (the few missing faces you see must still be below, putting out the fire in the Galley, or dislodging bones and tools from the side of the ship). The pirates of the Curse look around at the damage done by the melee, some in shock, some in rueful appreciation of the carnage. Killian the Striker, having rousted Bern the Bard and gotten him back to his feet, gives a shrill *whistle*, and once the attention lands on him he begins clapping in appreciation of the Wild Bunch and their exploits here. The rest of the crew soon follows suit, and for a long while the sounds of applause drown out the rainfall along the Deck…
The Wild Bunch have earned the loyalty and respect of the Pirate Crew! Morale has improved significantly! "Shipboard Unity" unlocked!
…
Not everyone is entirely pleased, given the state of the Ship. Derbin the Pilot is downright *sulking* at the loss of the Galley, and Refi is almost pitiable: she keeps staring at the enflamed Navigation Room, repeating, “No…no… nononono….no!” It’s only after Michael and Arno approach, arms stacked high with soggy papers and singed charted, that the Sea Artist comes back to herself. She greets Arno like an old friend, hugging them close in a highly uncharacteristic manner. Michael she insists bend down, and kisses him sweetly on the forehead.
Calthus the Dragonborn *whistles* an appreciation, as he observes all the fallen undead, and the pile that used to be Conrad. “Quite the work you all did here…not bad, not bad at all…”
#73 approaches along with Captain Ari, and the Bearman goes around to each member of the Wild Bunch, growling an appreciation and *crushing* each in a bear hug. Fusspot hangs from his shoulder, chirping in irritation at the Bunch and nibbling at Jack and Arno angrily. You can tell that these two were *worried* about all of you.
Captain Arabella smiles widely, showing all of her teeth. She beams with pride at the sight of you all. “*Excellent work*, Wild Bunch. I knew you wouldn’t let us down.” She looks sadly at the burnt shell of the Navigation Room, and down at the strange green puddle at her feet. She frowns, and begins to peer around the Ship. Turning to the Wild Bunch, she asks, “So, what exactly happened here? The Mutineers…is that *all* of them? Damn pity, if it is…rest of the Crew were hoping for someone to *make walk*, honestly…”
Across the way, Ril the Aaracokra checks in with Rax. The two are whispering together near the railings of the Main Deck. It occurs to you all that Ril has been out here in the Crow’s Nest the whole time. What did *he* see of the fight just now?...
Please let me know your character’s actions in the *immediate* aftermath of the Undead Assault. Do you go snag a well-earned drink from the husk of the Galley? Go check in with an NPC? Examine the Navigation Room for any clues? Attempt to hide that map somewhere? Head *immediately* to bed, leaving this mess to the rest of these guys? Someone should also probably attempt to give some sort of explanation to Captain Arabella…
Once we have explored the aftermath of the Flying Dutchman and the Mutiny, we’ll be skipping some time: pushing the events of the next week together, as the Whispered Curse makes final preparations to enter the Grey Maw…
Jack watches the thing that was Conrad slump and begin to dissolve, taking a step back and look around wearily. There aren't any more, are there? No? Finally... He leans back against a railing and flips his helm's mask up, giving a tired sigh. "I need a nap..." he murmurs.
His mood improves some when #73 approaches with Fusspot in tow and he gives the little thing as much attention and fuss as he can before it decides maybe Arno will be less handsey. With someone stepping forth to field the captain's questions he sidles next to the rest of the group and murmurs, "I'm gonna catch some sleep, if that's alright with you..."
He drags himself to his bunk, pulls a blanket over himself and is out like a light, having complete forgotten about the talking sword.
((OOC: If it weren't for the temp HP Michael provided Jack would be on on 3HP right now! ))
As Conrad falls, and then subsequently explodes into a mess of seeping goo, Oak feels himself start to come down as well. The familiar drain of post-battle grabs a hold of him, and his arms feel heavy. He looks down at himself, various slashes and cuts, blood staining a torn up shirt, but he realizes that it's mostly superficial. Nothing a good night of rest wouldn't help heal up, though, it was going to take a bit of work to stitch this shirt back together.
He sets the head of his axe on the ground, using it as a support as he feels the exhaustion seep into his limbs. Standing there silently, he looks around at the ruined navigation room as the Captain comes to inspect and question. He opens his mouth to reply, but realizes in this moment that he doesn't really have the energy or desire to go through it all with the Captain. Instead, he'll volunteer someone else. "Arno, if ya would. Talk the Captain through what we saw here."
Walking past the group, he takes a step towards the stairs, but pauses again, realizing that finding his bed doesn't sound all that appealing. He turns and scans the ship, looking at the various crew and the damage caused, before his eyes land on one of his own, Urixes. The man had his own share of secrets, things the group was slowly piecing together as they journeyed, but suddenly Oak was interested in perhaps learning more. There was more to all of this than the Barbarian had suspected at first, and perhaps a trip to the Galley would put them both at ease to work out what might be needed to be shared. "Urixes, lad. That was a rough one. Join me fer a drink to ease nerves?"
OOC:Thanks to Arno's heals, I actually ended that at 38HP. Barbarians are ridiculous.
Oak is proposing that Urixes join him for a drink, and then maybe they talk a little more about Urixes's past and what might be going on here. If Urixes doesn't want to, he'll still go drink alone.
As the Wild Bunch starts to move out from the navigation deck, and the captain approaches, Michael will definitely launch into a debrief to the captain on the details of what was going on with the snakes, and the metaphysical details of what happened. Absolutely in a level of arcane detail most nearby do not catch nor understand, though he does offer some brief synopsis in the end. The true explanations of why they did it still eludes Michael, "...but given the thing it tried to become I would venture the guess that it was the good old fashioned cocktail of avarice and hubris that did in our dear Conrad. The exact details of those motivations seems immaterial given their failure, and I'm sure each in the team", he nods towards one of the twisted and charred corpses nearby, "had their own".
As he is offering this debrief to the captain Michael is set about the navigation room, both investigating the room fully, and repairing what he can with the mending cantrip.
OOC:Anyone that's stopped and stayed and listened as michael goes full turbo encabulator about what just happened can go back and check out the answers in the "is michael smart" check.
Let me know if Michael needs to roll anything I'm taking my time on this investigation, I believe there's still a staff unaccounted for. Also I will investigate the bottle I picked up off of shade at least briefly, is it seemingly rum?
"Well Captain, I wasn't here at the beginning, but I think that can be summed up as 'Ghosts were busted.' Then I joined and we bust down the doors, but Conrad had already murdered everyone using purple snakes. But the thing is Conrad wasn't really Conrad anymore, more a purple snake meat puppet. Then a ton of purple snakes burst out of the dead bodies. And I'm saying purple snakes a lot and it feels like it's losing all meaning, but it is going to be a running theme. So then the Con-ake said some words of vengeance against Oak and Urixes and didn't even mention me, but that's okay, I'm not mad or anything. Then we fought, and beat Con-ake bad, but then he made a gross cocoon of purple snakes, which exploded, and he became demon Conrad, and there was fire and fighting and we stopped him in the end. Oh, and I found this, lucky it didn't get burned like the rest of the maps. I guess Conrad had plans for after the mutiny. Here you go."
OOC
My exact mental image is Michael droning about details while investigating around the room, and magically repairing stuff, while arno is giving the far more understandable version. Like michael starts to dive into the breakdown for the captain while setting about the investigation, and she just totally checks out at some of the more arcane details and ghosts over to check in on arno while michael just doesn't stop talking over his shoulder while investigating. Like eventually the sound guy just mixes it lower as background din while arno gives a way better exposition.
Jack sleeps *soundly* that night, possibly the only pirate onboard who does so. The werewolf rests and recovers, out like a rock even amidst the chill air and the anxious crew. Fusspot has come with him, having simply refused to return below Deck tonight. The little Griffon flies to the rafters overhead, cleaning itself and trying his best to present an affect of not caring *desperately* for the silly young man below.
Nearby, the Red Skull Saber swings from its scabbard, silent. A couple times in the night, Jack’s eyes open and he sees a *brilliant* red glow flowing over the sword. In his strange headspace between sleep and waking, Jack imagines the sword glows in time to the pirates walking around the Curse, as if he could follow their movements through the lense of the blade…
…
OAK and URIXES
Urixes and Oak bring themselves down to the ruined husk of the Galley. Tables and chairs are burned to cinders. Crude the Rak’ta is doing her best to sweep the heaping mess into a corner. A chill wind sweeps in occasionally from the Starboard side, where the Flying Dutchman blasted a hole into the wall. A burnt out table and a handful of wood scraps have been strapped down tightly to block the hole, but it’s a rush job, and cold air seeps in from all sides.
In the back corner near the kitchen, Crude has moved what few items escaped undamaged together: a single table, half a dozen chairs, several clean water casks. Of the spirits, it seems only two casks up here survived unharmed: one of rum, and one of sweet red wine.
Urixes and Oak, exposition away! The only other character nearby is the Deckhand Crude, and she knows enough about Urixes’s goings-on to give you guys plenty of privacy!
…
MICHAEL and ARNO
The Captain pays rapt attention as Michael and Arno explain the situation with the Mutineers. Ari follows along (but, frankly, looks a bit overwhelmed) at Michael’s in depth breakdown of the factors involved. She tries not to look *too* grateful as Arno steps in with a slightly more simple explanation.
The Captain grins wryly as Arno mentions Conrad’s words of vengeance. “Chauvinist,” She says matter-of-factly. “He was *always* a bit of a pig…at least *that* part of him didn’t change, even if the rest did.” She kicks the green puddle disdainfully.
Captain Arabella scratches her chin as Michael and Arno finish their explanation. She looks sadly around the wrecked shell of the Navigation Room. “I wanna say fuckin’ Mutineers deserve what they get, *especially* out here…but this makes me sad. So many lives lost, for nothing. Conrad, when he was still Conrad… was a good sailor, but he was no leader…he would’ve been the *first* to tell you that. It just doesn’t make *sense*, unless someone got to him somehow…”
The Captain mulls this over. Finally, with a thankful nod after taking the map, she says, “I’ll have to think on this for awhile. *Excellent* job, you two! I’m gonna get some of the workers coordinated, start patching up the bigger holes before we start rebuilding tomorrow morning. Michael, your Galley is *fucked*…but we have the supplies to fix it, and I can provide as many workers as you need. And Arno?” The Captain looks over at the Changeling, than angrily back at the Private Quarters. “Stick around if you’d like, but I release you from your “house-arrest”. You all just saved Mitchum’s *ass* today…he wants to clutch pearls about the *threat* you pose, if he ever chooses to come out of his shell?…he can go fuck himself.”
…
Michael, your search of the Navigation Room has found you the following:
- Bone Staff: The beacon item Conrad and the others used to call the Flying Dutchman upon you all. It’s a six foot tall staff, made from an assortment of fused bones, and topped with a sinister looking skull. Whatever magical power this item once had is gone, but the value to historians or archaeologists of this area would likely be priceless!
-"Love Letter": One corner badly singed, Michael finds a strange note, on frilled and expensive looking paper. Unfolding it, he finds a single sentence, signed with a bright red kiss at the bottom of the page. The paper smells of death and rotting meat. The beginning of the sentence has been burned away. What remains states:”…Can *Always* Hurt You”
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hET8FVdrzhA
Time passes slowly and uneventfully for the next several days aboard the Whispered Curse:
GM NOTE: Urixes and Oak, please take your time catching up in the Galley! Afterwards, the Crew will be accomplishing the following tasks during the next seven days, in preparation for the Grey Maw. Please choose *TWO* of the following that your character seeks to undertake during that time and PM me your choices. Most of these events will not require any rolls, and are simply expository events before the Grey Maw. Many events will ask for a simple decision, or opinion, which will affect the plot later to a large or small degree. Some tasks will come easier than others, or bring extra options for certain characters familiar with the people or events involved. You may choose from the following:
- Rebuilding the Galley: It’s been completely destroyed; it will need to be rebuilt from the planks up (Aloysius, Former Galley Area) Oak
- Cleaning Up: There’s bones and gore smeared all over the ship. It’ll need to be cleaned, if people are to live here comfortably (Crude, Various Locations) Urixes
- Testing the Crew for Parasites: Hugo will be testing *everyone* for the parasites. Assist his efforts and help ensure the health and safety of the crew (Hugo, Ship’s Clinic) Jack and Arno
- Restoring the Navigation Room: Maps and Charts will need carefully unfolded, catalogued, and dried out. The room itself will need to be refurnished (Refi, Navigation Room)
- Restructuring the Crew: First Mate dead, Second Mate dead, Bo’sun dead…the organizational structure of this place has gone straight to hell. Sit on a committee and help fix it (Captain Arabella, Captain’s Office) Oak
- Confronting the Governor’s Group: Sons-of-bitches left you for dead as the Ship got attacked, and *still* haven’t left that Private Room. Do you go knock and ask “why?” (???, Door to the Private Quarters)
- Team Building/ Interdisciplinary Training: The Master Striker, true to the word he gave Oak, will begin drilling mixed groups of pirates in scaling the rigging, dropping the boats, simple swordsmanship, and basic munitions, among other seaworthy talents (Killian, around the Top Decks)
- Having a Vision: *Someone* has given the Genasi Visionary a handful of *something* and asked them to see how far it may take them. Zephyr has invited “like-mined” individuals to join him on this journey of spiritual self-discovery… (Zephyr, Up near the Jib Boom on the Forecastle Deck) Arno
- A Grand Feast: The Captain has called on the kitchen to prepare a grand meal for the Ship from the Giant Manta Ray. Sit in and watch culinary *genius* happen! (Carlee, Ship’s Kitchen) Michael
- An Old Friend- You remember Baron Reynard, correct? One of the people who got you caught up in all this? But you haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since Villam. One night he manages to sneak out from the Private Quarters in disguise, and comes to find one of you (Reynard, ???) Urixes and Arno
- Strategizing for the Grey Maw: The next leg of your journey has had the ship on edge before the voyage even began. A team is meeting to finish the final plans for how the Whispered Curse will conquer this fierce obstacle. Sit in and hear what they have to say, and present the Wild Bunch’s voice and opinion (Calthus, Officer’s Quarters)
- Interviewing a Mutineer: Aloro the Eladrin Mutineer is being held in the brig. She *barely* avoided becoming one of the murdered traitors who littered the Navigation Room. Maybe she’ll have more to discuss, once word gets back to her of what happened, and how close she came to meeting a *horrible* fate (Aloro, The Brig) Jack
- Funeral Rites: The bodies of the Mutineers remain. They should be buried quickly and cleanly, to hasten their spirits to the next life and try to ensure they don’t return like Captain Carver’s crew did (Natali, Main Deck)
- Seeking the Shitter: There was one loose end left that the Captain had tasked you with: seeking out the culprit who keep despoiling people’s food and drinks. Do you maintain vigilance, as you sniff out the foul prankster? (???, ???) Michael
OOC: I'd guessed you guys would want to get to the Gray Maw ASAP (it's 90% ready-to-go; figured we might be there as soon as Monday!), but if you'd prefer to see all the Shipboard events first: you guys want me to include one more event (making 15 total), and have everyone choose 3 instead of 2, so between the Wild Bunch you get to see it all/spend a bit more downtime on the Curse before the next section?
Oak leads the way to the galley, and walks towards the single table, not really paying attention to the large hole that was attempted to be patched up. Knowing his job would be to likely fix that, he should have cared more, but after the battle above, he just couldn't find himself interested in it. He grabs a cup and fills it from the cask of rum, taking a long swig, draining the entire cup before filling it again and sitting down at the table.
"Lad, after all we saw up there today, feels like I need to learn more 'bout yer goin' ons. I've left it alone mostly because Arno and Michael seem to understand, so I ain't worrying. But after those skeleton bastards, I ain't sure what we're sailing into. And I need to be prepared."
Urixes sighs as he fiddles with a cup of wine. "There's a lot, Oak. Enough for several lifetimes, and I mean that literally. You've been more than patient, and I know how much responsibility you feel for all of us. So..."
Urixes begins his tale, starting with how many deaths he remembers. At least a dozen, probably more. "All of them were violent. Most of them deserved. I wasn't always as friendly as I am now. The first cycle I was a downright terror..."
He works his way backward, spending extra time on his clearest past life. "Back then Reynard wasn't a baron yet. Mitchum was just regular rich, not the filthy kind. Hells even Rax was just Rax the Regular Part of the Crew. But we found something. The bunch of us. Or I suppose the map did, and we just tried to follow it. Almost killed us all. It did kill me. I was a bard back then, if you can believe it. All smiles and songs..."
Urixes continues working his way through the past. "The first time I died, I sank. Deep. There was no light, no gods or fields of flowers, none of what I once sang so many songs about. It was darkness, and the crushing weight of an entire sea on top of me. Even though my body was already dead, my ... soul was in agony. It was so cold. The pressure was unbearable. And I just kept sinking.
"There was no time while I was down there. It could have been minutes, it could have been centuries. It felt like both, in a way. Every single moment of it was the most excruciating pain I'd ever felt. I was screaming for something, anything, to make it stop. To set me free. I don't know how long it took, but eventually something answered."
Urixes takes another sip of his wine, swirling what's left in the cup and staring deeply into it. "I don't know its name. It never told me. What it did tell me is that it could give me the power to get out. To make the pain stop. As it spoke to me I could finally see something, a light in the darkness. I was already agreeing to the bargain before I saw its tentacles, twisting and churning in the purple glow. They were reaching for me. And as I said yes, the grasp of the deep was upon me."
He pauses, looking up from his cup to search Oak's face. "Do you think you would have said yes, Oak? You're stronger than me. Maybe you could have held out."
Oak finds himself tapping a finger against a cup lightly as Urixes explains. The Shifter had always been aware that the other man walked as if he was holding a weight on his shoulders, and as Urixes lays out his past, Oak could see where it came from. As Urixes went on, explaining his death, explaining what he saw and felt, Oak couldn't help but sigh as the question came.
The Shifter stared at his cup for a moment before looking up, starting back into his companion's face calmly. "Doesn't really matter what I woulda said, Urixes. Wasn't me who was there. A man can only do what needs to be done in the moment, and when that moment is over, keep goin' on." Oak lifts his cup to his lips, and drains it. Then leans in slightly. "That bein' said. Don't mean the decision be final. And if you be findin' yerself in a place where you can change it, I hope you know you can count on me to stand by ya and work it out."
Oak lets his words hang for a moment, before leaning back against his chair. "Now, maybe you can help with the other thing. Sounds like this map might stir up trouble as we head in. What do you know 'bout the Gray Maw?"
"You're right. At first I enjoyed the power. I was happy to bring havoc and destruction with me wherever I went. But after a few cycles I realized that it was a shackle more than it was a gift. The Deep One knows I want to change things. I've actually tried to kill it a few times now. Never really got close, if I'm being honest with myself. But this time feels different. With all of us together? I'm actually feeling hopeful. I think... sorry, I'm rambling.
"The Grey Maw. They call it that because it has a tendency to swallow up whatever goes in, and there's a good chance it won't be coming out again. You have to time the entry just right for where you intend to go, or you'll end up somewhere else entirely. So the navigator, the captain, the crew, everybody needs to be on the same page. If there's someone trying to mess with that map, we're going to be in a bad way."
Oak frowns. "Rax was after that map. Back when we had the funeral for Drox. He pulled me aside to say that some of the crew were scared 'bout what they heard from the map. Rax wanted my help in grabbing it to let someone get a better look at it."
"You got history with 'im. Should I be worried if Rax has managed to get his hands on the map? Can't imagine he stopped trying when I didn't help."
Urixes and Oak’s conversation, as well as Michael stopping by the Galley, happens the evening of Day 23. I didn’t want to interrupt the *excellent* bar talk: Inspiration to Oak and Urixes!
DAY 24-CLEAR SKIES
OAK
Oak the Barbarian joins Aloysius the Master Carpenter and Fiver the Lapine in the ruined shell of the Galley; to take up tools and wood, and make the place ship-worthy again.
Aloysius is downright *cheery*, the Goliath mumbling a sea shanty loud enough for Oak to pick out the words. The two brutes work together: taking measurements, cutting boards, sealing, sanding, nailing. Fiver keeps materials moving nearby. Oak and Aloysius receive a revolving cast of helpers from the crew at one point or another: someone to hold the occasional board, or stand dumbly nearby with a handful of nails. No one (save those already busy with other tasks, such as Calthus or Killian or Captain Arabella) in the crew seems to have more than a rudimentary knowledge of carpentry or shipbuilding, if that.
“That’s really not good,” Aloysius *rumbles*, ruminating to Oak as they take a break in the afternoon sun. “With Zook gone, we’re down to just the four of us that know what the *hell* we’re doing. And how much time the Wild Bunch and Rax’s Boys spend off ship…hell, I’m good, but I can’t be everywhere at once, fellas.” Fiver nods solemnly, nursing a mug of beer.
Aloysius stares off at the horizon, towards the Grey Maw and beyond. “Gonna be busting my *ass off*, if anything happens to the Curse in the Maw. We ever manage to get to the other side, the Captain will be looking to hire some new mates, and at least *some* of them better know how to swing a hammer!”
Aloysius puts the thought away for now, and the cheerful mood returns. “But that’s a problem for another day. For now, I was thinking: while we’re putting the place back together…”
Oak, Aloysius proposes making a change to the Architecture of the Galley, something only the three assembled here would know about. Do you build a hidden hatch into the floor, providing access to the Officer’s Quarters from above? Do you build a hidden compartment into the wall, big enough to hide one? Do you find a couple places to create weapon stashes? A much better idea for the space?
…
URIXES
Crude the Rak’ta and Urixes the Master Deckhand gather all the cleaning supplies they can pull out of storage, and get to work cleaning the *awfulness* from the decks and sides of the Ship.
The job is disgusting, but gets done rather quickly. The Rak’ta can organize and tackle a task with an almost frightening focus and efficiency. Urixes was right: Crude is *highly* competent, and could probably accomplish many of these shipboard tasks herself with a little more experience and a few pointers. He later finds out that the Rak’ta refuge isn’t even fully on top of her game…
“I apologisse that I am dissstracted,” She states plainly, as she and Urixes take hot water and soap to the remains of Wakeman Shayde. “Za Doctor wasss kind enough to keep watch of za eggsss, but with Grit gone…” Urixes can tell the lizard misses her mate, hates leaving her eggs in the care of another, but feels *torn* by her obligation to the Ship and Crew which have brought them away safely.
Feeling emboldened as she remembers the great care the Wild Bunch had given to all the Rak’ta they had come across, Crude decides to take a chance and share something personal with the Tiefling. “Crude and I….za plan wasss only to hitch a ride, and find our way to uzzers further in. Villam wasss….but, we both can’t imagine leaving za Expanssse. We feel zis place in our sssoulss…”
Stopping her frantic scrubbing for the first time, the bold young Rak’ta turns and looks Urixes right in his eyes. “Now I don’t know what to do, alone and with spawn…do I leave? Take zem sssomewhere sssafe, far away from zis place? Do I continue on asss Crude and I planned; find a ssship in Chaff, make our way to one of za coloniesss within?”
A thought suddenly occurs to her, and she laughs (a raspy, but not entirely unpleasant noise). “Do I *ssstay here*? Raissse young Rak’ta on a pirate ssship, among crew zat would…” She looks away again, remembering Crude under the Capstan…
Urixes, what advice do you give to Crude? Encourage her to leave immediately? Follow through with her original immigration plans? Stay, and try to make this ship her home?
…
DAY 26-WINDY
ARNO
Arno joins a group of “seekers” Up near the Bow of the Ship, as they circle conspiratorially around Zephyr, the Genasi Visionary.
Arno recognizes some of Zephyr’s “fans” from meeting them earlier, but there are mostly fresh faces here tonight. Arno can sense that, while a few might be here for the genuine “spiritual experience” Zephyr described, the *vast majority* of those joining are here because they read between the lines, and are interested in illicit substances.
“*Friends*!” The eerie yet effusive Genasi greets the latecomers, as he urges them all to gather around and take seats cross legged. “Thank you for joining us for this most fortuitous evening! I welcome each of my crewmates, both those I have seen before, and those just joining us tonight!” Zephyr’s face lights up with joy at all the additional attendance this evening. If the Genasi has considered that many of the people before him are here to get “wrecked”, he’s decided to brush past the point.
“We will be taking a journey tonight, deep *DEEP* into the Twilight Expanse…all while never leaving this Ship! With the collective consciousness between us, we will each open up our third eyes, and peer *past* the veils: the veils of the Expanse, the veils of limited perception, the veils of *REALITY*.”
Zephyr’s adherents (like Hugo the Doctor, and Eilibis the Eladrin) nod approvingly at this sort of language. Most of the newcomers dig at dirty fingernails, and stare about the ship awkwardly: this sort of talk is ridiculous and makes them uncomfortable. They were hoping for more…*substances*.
Sensing the mood shift, Zephyr decides to skip ahead a bit, and withdraws from his back a full tray of delicate, porcelain cups, and a still-steaming kettle. None of these items are from Michael’s kitchen; Zephyr must have brought them aboard himself.
“I must also thank the always amiable Arno! For helping to provide the…medium, through which we will make our transcendence this evening!” Zephyr begins pouring tea into each of the cups, the smell wafting along the Deck and trailing off into the night. The smell is…bad. It’s a *bad* smell. Like boiled sweat socks, or steamed slime. Pirates come up and carefully take the cups into their hands, wrinkling their noses at the content within, and returning to their seated position in the circle.
Zephyr saves the final cups for himself: it’s twice as large, and a sprinkling of the pure leaves sits at the bottom. Zephyr withdraws a mortar and pestle from nearby, and begins to *mash* up the pure leaves, humming as he does so. As he prepares his own concoction, he explains: “The leaves are *strong*, and I don’t wish to add undue tasks upon our already overworked doctor. I have boiled it down to a safe level, for those of you who are new to “seeing”. But for myself…I will taking the tea with a *pure* dose. I will become the focal point for the group’s visions, a Locus for our shared experience. If you ever find yourself going *missing*, come back to the sound of my voice…” (The new pirates begin to get excited, and clutch their disgusting drinks closer; now *this* is what they came for!)
Zephyr finally fills the glass, and raises it to the assembled Crew. They each raise their glasses in turn. “I want you to look to the Expanse. Not with your eyes, not with your memory…with the part of your spirit that has already been there; the primitive mind that already *knows*” Zephyr then throws his head and the cup back, downing the drink in the course of a few seconds.
Pirates nearby follow suit: down-the-hatch!
Arno: down-the-hatch? Or do you take the opportunity to pour the drink (subtly) off the side of the Deck, and watch the show?
…
JACK
Jack gets the Captain’s permission to go down and have a visit with the Mutineer, Aloro the Eladrin. To inform her of what happened…and to see what she knows.
She’s sitting in the corner, head in her palms and staring *morosely* at the floor. “So…they’re dead then,” she says as Jack walks in. At the face he makes, she smiles, not unkindly. “Word gets around quick on this tub…few people have already been around to taunt, say I should’ve been with em’…say if they get their way, I’ll be walking the plank…”
Aloro stands up, and walks over to slightly grip the bars. “I am sorry, *truly* sorry, for what I did. Conrad came to us, one by one, and told us that he had had a vision. A vision of his death, ours, *everyone* on this Ship. He predicted the Dutchman would arrive, and when it got here, it would *kill us all, and add us to its crew*. It’s one thing to die, but *that*…” Aloro shakes her head, clearly still getting shivers from the thought.
“The plan was to get the crew to Mutiny on their own; give em’ a push, sew enough discord that they locked up Captain Arabella, and put Conrad in charge. Of course,” she laughs ruefully. “*You guys* made sure *that* didn’t happen. But, Conrad wasn’t giving up, had another plan. He said…Conrad said he’d made *deals*, with dangerous people. *More* than enough to protect us…*more* than enough to make sure we survived our encounter with the Dutchman, even if no one *else* did."
Aloro’s knuckles clench white against the bars, and tears well up in the corner of her eyes, but do not fall. “So, he was right in the end…we *did* fall to the Dutchman. Just not, not the way he thought we would.”
“Please,” she suddenly change subjects, and leans pleadingly over the bars towards Jack. “*Please*, I’ve made mistakes, but I don’t want…I don’t *deserve* to *die* in this place. Help me…I’ll do anything you want, I’ll *fuck off* in Chaff and you guys will never have to see me again. Just get me out of here!”
Jack, do you try to get her out there? Do you tell her she deserves her fate? Do you do what you can to make her more comfortable in there? Do you attempt to further question her?
…
MICHAEL
The beloved Galley destroyed, Michael has to take to serving meals to the crew *directly* out of the kitchen, while the work goes on next door. With the crew busy working around the clock to repair the Ship in preparation for the Grey Maw, Michael and Carlee find themselves serving meals almost non-stop during the days.
Besides the hassle of constantly serving, ceaseless refills, and being constantly hounded at the door by hungry pirates, Carlee and Michael discover something else: pirates are children. Without the decorum of the Galley and shared space to keep them honest, plates get cracked and broken, silverware ends up in bed sheets, cups go completely missing by the half-dozen. It gets to the point where the cooks have to occasionally stop production *completely* to go track down enough bowls or serving ware to have anywhere to *put* the food.
Michael’s on one of these “bag in hand retrieving dirty dishes” excursions around the Orlop Deck when he hears a straining noise around the corner. He recognizes it immediately. The sound of grossly familiar, highly uncomfortable digestive noises. He turns the corner and finds Twitchy Joe squatted over a stew cauldron, defecating. The man is so utterly focused on his business he doesn’t take notice of Michael until he’s finishing up. His eyes widen to saucers and his face immediately *reddens*, as the cauldron drops with a wet *clang* behind him. “Oh. Oh shit,” he says, missing the irony of his own words.
Twitchy Joe backs into a corner and tries to clean himself off, having suddenly discovered boundaries. “Look, Michael, I’m…I’m real sorry, okay? This happened on accident…see, I’ve got real bad bowel issues, always have, and ever since we got out on the Expanse, the stress makes me…makes it…”
The pirate pulls his pants on, nervously trying to explain himself. Michael takes note of him: the man is *filthy*, slurring. His eyes don’t focus properly, despite obvious effort. You can tell from his skin and unnatural paunch that his diet is rubbish. That *twitch* of his is likely neurological, but you wonder if this man has the education to know what that means, or if he’d have the wherewithal to get help even if he did.
Twitchy Joe tries to explain. “The first couple times were accidents! I was in the Galley one day, and just *had to*….and then when I got away with it, and it sent the ship into an uproar, well…” A nervous grin creeps over his face at the memory. “…never *been* popular before, ya know? All of a sudden, even big shots like Aloysius or Calthus are talking about “the Mad Shitter”, and it just…” Twitchy Joe sighs, a spiritually fulfilled sound. “It made me feel important.”
The pirate stares ahead, his face happy for the moment. It’s like he’s forgotten Michael is even there.
Michael, you’ve discovered the Mad Shitter to be Twitchy Joe. The man is *clearly* unwell, both physically and mentally. What do you do? Do you raise the alarm on the Ship, have this menace and health hazard thrown overboard by a disgusted, vengeful crew? Do you have him Brigged, for his crimes against the Ship? Do you try to talk some sense into him? Do you keep this to yourself? Do you get him to a Doctor?
Jack is making up for lost time by dragging Mister Fusspot with him, feeding the critter outside the brig before pulling himself up straight and putting on his best poker face. Time to interrogate the dastardly villain.
It's right about the time she's describing Conrad's manipulation that he's completely sucked in and as she finishes her story only his poker face is hiding the fact that he's blubbering on the inside. She was a victim of circumstance! Betrayed by forced beyond her! Imprisoned unjustly!
And also present when another of their crewmembers was brutally murdered. The memory of the butchered Rak'ta brings him back, though some part of him wants to trust her.
He pets Fusspot as a way to carry himself across as calmer than he feels, "Was killing Crude's mate part of this 'discord' then? How many more were slated to die to make this revolt happen?"
Aloro's eyes flash defiance, but her tone remains steady and pleading. “Please, you have to understand…we were told this was all to keep *everyone* from dying. Conrad said scaring them, throwing them off…it wouldn’t be enough. We had to let the *whole crew* know that this would come for them, personally. And *he* meant it, too, it was *that* important to him…Conrad killed his best friend in the world, the second mate Ishmael. Did it in his sleep, so he wouldn’t feel anything. He said, “now the Veterans, *they* know *they* aren’t untouchable.” Drank himself to sleep, that night, and the next...”
“Week later, him and Zook managed to snag one of Mitchum’s soldiers, back when they used to actually wander aboard deck. Did him in pretty good, too, but I mean, fuck those guys, right? “No one gives a shit about these *mercs*, and now Mitchum’s boys know *they’re* at risk.”, he told us.”
Aloro licks her lips, and looks uncomfortable at the next one. “Grit…Grit was bad. It…shouldn’t have happened. I think it scared all of us, when he…but Conrad had started getting more aggressive, more desperate. He started to turn on anyone who questioned him, ask if they were really “here for the cause”.“ Aloro turns to Jack, a pained look all across her face. “When he went for him, it got out of hand…Grit nearly fought his way out, and then Conrad knocked him under the Capstan and he….when he was done, he stood up, and turned to all of us. “Now, Rax, the Outsiders, even the *Wild Bunch* know that this is coming for them”, he said. And that’s when I knew, I *knew* we’d gone too far…”
Aloro looks at Jack, eyes wide and wounded. “I’m sorry. I made a mistake. I can’t take back what I knew, and did…all I can do is try to make it right.” Aloro smiles sweetly at the young man. "Please...give me.the chance to make it right?"
Jack, please roll Perception, DC-15. On a success, access to the spoiler:
Oh, she’s good. She *almost* had you there…but it’s a well-rehearsed act, probably one she’s done before. This woman is 100% lying to get herself out of a corner. She's canny and decietful: likely an instigator among Conrad’s ranks, maybe even helped plan the murders. Lock this Eladrin Agent up and throw away the key
Posts
Geth roll 1d20+6 to see if Michael can throw a handaxe at a stationary target
"Well this took a turn," Urixes grunts, ignoring the sting of the shards as he hurls arcane energy at the growths and stalks.
Geth, roll 1d20+8 for Eldritch Blast 1
Geth, roll 1d10+4 for Force Damage 1
Geth, roll 1d10+8 for Eldritch Blast 2
Geth, roll 1d10+4 for Force Damage 2
Geth, roll 1d20+8 for Grasp of the Deep
Geth, roll 1d8 for Cold Damage
Going up to Jack "sorry about the ice thing, but I think I've really got it down for next time."
Geth roll 1d20+2 for Dex
Geth roll 1d20+4 for medicine to understand
Geth roll 2d8+4 to heal Jack and 5 more hp to everyone else due to unicorn
"So, from what I know about cocoons, the things that come out are rarely weaker. Though hopefully he comes out prettier. Either way, I think following Michael is a good idea. We can huck weapons at those pod things as we move."
Urixes *blasts* away the Glassy Stalks underfoot with an eldritch missile, and uses his Grasp of the Deep to *crush* the Spiky Growth at the back of the Navigation Room
…
The Cocoon *pulses and swirls* from within. Conrad’s Egg expands rapidly, like a balloon, until it seems like the pressue can’t *possibly* continue. And then…
*IT EXPLODES!* Glass and a *plume* of fire *bursts* out from the Navigation Room!
[Oak, you were the only one in the room when the Cocoon reached its detonation point. Please make a Dex Saving to hit the deck/get under cover before the thing manages to blow- (DC 15). On a success, Oak has successfully dodged the blast and takes no damage. On a partial success (DC 10), Oak manages to partially dodge the blast, and takes half damage (4d6 slashing). On a failure (below DC 10), Oak takes full 4d6 slashing damage from the blast.]
The scattershot of the glass and organic debris flies throughout the room, spreading the already growing fire to each corner!
The thing that was Conrad, now Conrad-Changed, emerges from the Navigation Room out into the rain, the fire growing steadily through the swinging doors behind him. The Demon-thing is sinewy, alien, but it retains Conrad’s eyes, somehow…
Conrad-Changed looks around at the gathered Wild Bunch, familiar, human vengeance stabbing out from those eyes. But something is wrong…the creature suddenly falls to his knees, holding the sides of his head and *howling*. The glassy spines which emerge from his skin seem to press out and in against his will. Conrad’s body looks impossibly contorted in places, and Conrad seems to be in *terrible* pain.
From where he stoops in front of you, Conrad-Changed suddenly pulls himself up. Looking at Urixes and Arno nearby, the thing *hurls* his arms forward, and they *fly* from his shoulders like glass-stuck taffy!
Geth roll 1d8+3 piercing
Geth roll 1d20+6 Dhalsim Claw R.
Geth roll 1d8+3 piercing (Urixes
But the effort seems to take its toll: as Conrad-Changed drags his arms back, it’s clear stretching his limits has caused hemorrhaging damage somewhere inside his mutant body…
CURRENT MAPS-
GM NOTE: The Fire in the Navigation Room has grown and spread. Jack’s Fire and Michael’s Fire will meet on the next turn, growing the blaze exponentially. All Spiky Growths have been destroyed; two Glassy Stalks snapped off the Cocoon when it exploded, and remain along the Quarter Deck. Shoot me any questions you may have: turn to the Wild Bunch!
Geth roll 1d8+3 piercing (Urixes)
Geth, roll 2d20k1+2 for DodgeDuckDipDiveDodge
Knowing Jack, Urixes, and Oak can more than handle the damage, but that fire will get out of hand if nothing is done, Arno summons a cooling rain to extinguish the inferno.
OOC : Arno casts create water, 2nd level spell to put out as much fire as possible with a 35ft cube.
Jumping to his feet, the Shifter sees the grotesque form of Conrad charging his companions, and a new fire explodes inside of him. The cold seething hatred the murdering Conrad has instilled in him grew into a white hot flame now seeing this demon form attacking his friends. A growl started in his throat as he set in motion, becoming a full yell as he charged forward and threw himself into battle.
OOC:Reckless again.
Geth, roll 2d20k1+8 for Attacking Demon Conrad
Geth, roll 1d12+7 for Damage
Geth, roll 2d20k1+8 for Attacking Demon Conrad 2
Geth, roll 1d12+7 for Damage
And Urixies should be able to contain the thrashings of this dying wretch. Michael elects to dive down into the flames and mystical rain of the navigation room to start grabbing every scrap of chart he can, hoping to identify and grab any key ones that can be salvaged.
Arno calls upon the forces of water to quell the inferno! A torrent opens up in the Navigation Room, falling along the blaze and soaking the planks and papers below!
Michael *darts* back down to the Navigation Room, stomping among sodden, still burning ashes as he retrieves armfuls of papers from the mess as quickly as he can
(The Navigation Room is wrecked, but due to Arno's actions, the shell of the place will be salvageable later. Captain Ari will be *very* happy you saved this section of the ship; Refi the Sea Artist will be *very* grateful to Arno and Michael that you saved most of the maps and charts, even if they'll need to be *thoroughly* hung out and dried for a while...)
"...don't suppose you wanna talk? No?"
Rubbing his shoulder with a wince he approaches the ex crewmate once more, raising his weapon and striking at it while it's distracted with the angry Shifter on the other side.
Geth, roll 1d20+7 for Saber Strike at Conrad?
Geth, roll 1d8+5 for Saber Damage
Geth, roll 1d20+7 for Saber Strike at Conrad?
Geth, roll 1d8+5 for Saber Damage
Conrad-Changed hangs on by a thread, the last of the Mutineers aboard your Ship...Urixes ( @Denada ), *FINISH HIM*!
OOC: I would love to finish him off but Urixes is down for the count! That last hit was more than enough to knock me unconscious.
Geth, roll 1d20 for Death Save 1
Geth roll 1d8+7 to cure urixies wounds.
Geth, roll 1d20+8 for Eldritch Blast 1
Geth, roll 1d10+4 for Force Damage 1
Geth, roll 1d10+8 for Eldritch Blast 2
Geth, roll 1d10+4 for Force Damage 2
Geth, roll 1d20+8 for Grasp of the Deep
Geth, roll 1d8 for Cold Damage
The Flying Dutchman at this point has reverted to ancient, blackened planks, and years-old torn netting: it clatters harmlessly against the Starboard side of the ship and falls into the ocean, drifting off in the Whispered Curse’s wake.
From the doors along the Main Deck, the rest of the Crew is slowly emerging: haggard, but on their feet (the few missing faces you see must still be below, putting out the fire in the Galley, or dislodging bones and tools from the side of the ship). The pirates of the Curse look around at the damage done by the melee, some in shock, some in rueful appreciation of the carnage. Killian the Striker, having rousted Bern the Bard and gotten him back to his feet, gives a shrill *whistle*, and once the attention lands on him he begins clapping in appreciation of the Wild Bunch and their exploits here. The rest of the crew soon follows suit, and for a long while the sounds of applause drown out the rainfall along the Deck…
The Wild Bunch have earned the loyalty and respect of the Pirate Crew! Morale has improved significantly! "Shipboard Unity" unlocked!
…
Not everyone is entirely pleased, given the state of the Ship. Derbin the Pilot is downright *sulking* at the loss of the Galley, and Refi is almost pitiable: she keeps staring at the enflamed Navigation Room, repeating, “No…no… nononono….no!” It’s only after Michael and Arno approach, arms stacked high with soggy papers and singed charted, that the Sea Artist comes back to herself. She greets Arno like an old friend, hugging them close in a highly uncharacteristic manner. Michael she insists bend down, and kisses him sweetly on the forehead.
Calthus the Dragonborn *whistles* an appreciation, as he observes all the fallen undead, and the pile that used to be Conrad. “Quite the work you all did here…not bad, not bad at all…”
#73 approaches along with Captain Ari, and the Bearman goes around to each member of the Wild Bunch, growling an appreciation and *crushing* each in a bear hug. Fusspot hangs from his shoulder, chirping in irritation at the Bunch and nibbling at Jack and Arno angrily. You can tell that these two were *worried* about all of you.
Captain Arabella smiles widely, showing all of her teeth. She beams with pride at the sight of you all. “*Excellent work*, Wild Bunch. I knew you wouldn’t let us down.” She looks sadly at the burnt shell of the Navigation Room, and down at the strange green puddle at her feet. She frowns, and begins to peer around the Ship. Turning to the Wild Bunch, she asks, “So, what exactly happened here? The Mutineers…is that *all* of them? Damn pity, if it is…rest of the Crew were hoping for someone to *make walk*, honestly…”
Across the way, Ril the Aaracokra checks in with Rax. The two are whispering together near the railings of the Main Deck. It occurs to you all that Ril has been out here in the Crow’s Nest the whole time. What did *he* see of the fight just now?...
Please let me know your character’s actions in the *immediate* aftermath of the Undead Assault. Do you go snag a well-earned drink from the husk of the Galley? Go check in with an NPC? Examine the Navigation Room for any clues? Attempt to hide that map somewhere? Head *immediately* to bed, leaving this mess to the rest of these guys? Someone should also probably attempt to give some sort of explanation to Captain Arabella…
Once we have explored the aftermath of the Flying Dutchman and the Mutiny, we’ll be skipping some time: pushing the events of the next week together, as the Whispered Curse makes final preparations to enter the Grey Maw…
His mood improves some when #73 approaches with Fusspot in tow and he gives the little thing as much attention and fuss as he can before it decides maybe Arno will be less handsey. With someone stepping forth to field the captain's questions he sidles next to the rest of the group and murmurs, "I'm gonna catch some sleep, if that's alright with you..."
He drags himself to his bunk, pulls a blanket over himself and is out like a light, having complete forgotten about the talking sword.
((OOC: If it weren't for the temp HP Michael provided Jack would be on on 3HP right now! ))
He sets the head of his axe on the ground, using it as a support as he feels the exhaustion seep into his limbs. Standing there silently, he looks around at the ruined navigation room as the Captain comes to inspect and question. He opens his mouth to reply, but realizes in this moment that he doesn't really have the energy or desire to go through it all with the Captain. Instead, he'll volunteer someone else. "Arno, if ya would. Talk the Captain through what we saw here."
Walking past the group, he takes a step towards the stairs, but pauses again, realizing that finding his bed doesn't sound all that appealing. He turns and scans the ship, looking at the various crew and the damage caused, before his eyes land on one of his own, Urixes. The man had his own share of secrets, things the group was slowly piecing together as they journeyed, but suddenly Oak was interested in perhaps learning more. There was more to all of this than the Barbarian had suspected at first, and perhaps a trip to the Galley would put them both at ease to work out what might be needed to be shared. "Urixes, lad. That was a rough one. Join me fer a drink to ease nerves?"
OOC:Thanks to Arno's heals, I actually ended that at 38HP. Barbarians are ridiculous.
Oak is proposing that Urixes join him for a drink, and then maybe they talk a little more about Urixes's past and what might be going on here. If Urixes doesn't want to, he'll still go drink alone.
As he is offering this debrief to the captain Michael is set about the navigation room, both investigating the room fully, and repairing what he can with the mending cantrip.
OOC:Anyone that's stopped and stayed and listened as michael goes full turbo encabulator about what just happened can go back and check out the answers in the "is michael smart" check.
Let me know if Michael needs to roll anything I'm taking my time on this investigation, I believe there's still a staff unaccounted for. Also I will investigate the bottle I picked up off of shade at least briefly, is it seemingly rum?
OOC: I'm down for a drink and some exposition.
My exact mental image is Michael droning about details while investigating around the room, and magically repairing stuff, while arno is giving the far more understandable version. Like michael starts to dive into the breakdown for the captain while setting about the investigation, and she just totally checks out at some of the more arcane details and ghosts over to check in on arno while michael just doesn't stop talking over his shoulder while investigating. Like eventually the sound guy just mixes it lower as background din while arno gives a way better exposition.
Jack sleeps *soundly* that night, possibly the only pirate onboard who does so. The werewolf rests and recovers, out like a rock even amidst the chill air and the anxious crew. Fusspot has come with him, having simply refused to return below Deck tonight. The little Griffon flies to the rafters overhead, cleaning itself and trying his best to present an affect of not caring *desperately* for the silly young man below.
Nearby, the Red Skull Saber swings from its scabbard, silent. A couple times in the night, Jack’s eyes open and he sees a *brilliant* red glow flowing over the sword. In his strange headspace between sleep and waking, Jack imagines the sword glows in time to the pirates walking around the Curse, as if he could follow their movements through the lense of the blade…
…
OAK and URIXES
Urixes and Oak bring themselves down to the ruined husk of the Galley. Tables and chairs are burned to cinders. Crude the Rak’ta is doing her best to sweep the heaping mess into a corner. A chill wind sweeps in occasionally from the Starboard side, where the Flying Dutchman blasted a hole into the wall. A burnt out table and a handful of wood scraps have been strapped down tightly to block the hole, but it’s a rush job, and cold air seeps in from all sides.
In the back corner near the kitchen, Crude has moved what few items escaped undamaged together: a single table, half a dozen chairs, several clean water casks. Of the spirits, it seems only two casks up here survived unharmed: one of rum, and one of sweet red wine.
Urixes and Oak, exposition away! The only other character nearby is the Deckhand Crude, and she knows enough about Urixes’s goings-on to give you guys plenty of privacy!
…
MICHAEL and ARNO
The Captain pays rapt attention as Michael and Arno explain the situation with the Mutineers. Ari follows along (but, frankly, looks a bit overwhelmed) at Michael’s in depth breakdown of the factors involved. She tries not to look *too* grateful as Arno steps in with a slightly more simple explanation.
The Captain grins wryly as Arno mentions Conrad’s words of vengeance. “Chauvinist,” She says matter-of-factly. “He was *always* a bit of a pig…at least *that* part of him didn’t change, even if the rest did.” She kicks the green puddle disdainfully.
Captain Arabella scratches her chin as Michael and Arno finish their explanation. She looks sadly around the wrecked shell of the Navigation Room. “I wanna say fuckin’ Mutineers deserve what they get, *especially* out here…but this makes me sad. So many lives lost, for nothing. Conrad, when he was still Conrad… was a good sailor, but he was no leader…he would’ve been the *first* to tell you that. It just doesn’t make *sense*, unless someone got to him somehow…”
The Captain mulls this over. Finally, with a thankful nod after taking the map, she says, “I’ll have to think on this for awhile. *Excellent* job, you two! I’m gonna get some of the workers coordinated, start patching up the bigger holes before we start rebuilding tomorrow morning. Michael, your Galley is *fucked*…but we have the supplies to fix it, and I can provide as many workers as you need. And Arno?” The Captain looks over at the Changeling, than angrily back at the Private Quarters. “Stick around if you’d like, but I release you from your “house-arrest”. You all just saved Mitchum’s *ass* today…he wants to clutch pearls about the *threat* you pose, if he ever chooses to come out of his shell?…he can go fuck himself.”
…
Michael, your search of the Navigation Room has found you the following:
- Bone Staff: The beacon item Conrad and the others used to call the Flying Dutchman upon you all. It’s a six foot tall staff, made from an assortment of fused bones, and topped with a sinister looking skull. Whatever magical power this item once had is gone, but the value to historians or archaeologists of this area would likely be priceless!
-"Love Letter": One corner badly singed, Michael finds a strange note, on frilled and expensive looking paper. Unfolding it, he finds a single sentence, signed with a bright red kiss at the bottom of the page. The paper smells of death and rotting meat. The beginning of the sentence has been burned away. What remains states:”…Can *Always* Hurt You”
Time passes slowly and uneventfully for the next several days aboard the Whispered Curse:
GM NOTE: Urixes and Oak, please take your time catching up in the Galley! Afterwards, the Crew will be accomplishing the following tasks during the next seven days, in preparation for the Grey Maw. Please choose *TWO* of the following that your character seeks to undertake during that time and PM me your choices. Most of these events will not require any rolls, and are simply expository events before the Grey Maw. Many events will ask for a simple decision, or opinion, which will affect the plot later to a large or small degree. Some tasks will come easier than others, or bring extra options for certain characters familiar with the people or events involved. You may choose from the following:
- Cleaning Up: There’s bones and gore smeared all over the ship. It’ll need to be cleaned, if people are to live here comfortably (Crude, Various Locations) Urixes
- Testing the Crew for Parasites: Hugo will be testing *everyone* for the parasites. Assist his efforts and help ensure the health and safety of the crew (Hugo, Ship’s Clinic) Jack and Arno
- Restoring the Navigation Room: Maps and Charts will need carefully unfolded, catalogued, and dried out. The room itself will need to be refurnished (Refi, Navigation Room)
- Restructuring the Crew: First Mate dead, Second Mate dead, Bo’sun dead…the organizational structure of this place has gone straight to hell. Sit on a committee and help fix it (Captain Arabella, Captain’s Office) Oak
- Confronting the Governor’s Group: Sons-of-bitches left you for dead as the Ship got attacked, and *still* haven’t left that Private Room. Do you go knock and ask “why?” (???, Door to the Private Quarters)
- Team Building/ Interdisciplinary Training: The Master Striker, true to the word he gave Oak, will begin drilling mixed groups of pirates in scaling the rigging, dropping the boats, simple swordsmanship, and basic munitions, among other seaworthy talents (Killian, around the Top Decks)
- Having a Vision: *Someone* has given the Genasi Visionary a handful of *something* and asked them to see how far it may take them. Zephyr has invited “like-mined” individuals to join him on this journey of spiritual self-discovery… (Zephyr, Up near the Jib Boom on the Forecastle Deck) Arno
- A Grand Feast: The Captain has called on the kitchen to prepare a grand meal for the Ship from the Giant Manta Ray. Sit in and watch culinary *genius* happen! (Carlee, Ship’s Kitchen) Michael
- An Old Friend- You remember Baron Reynard, correct? One of the people who got you caught up in all this? But you haven’t seen hide nor hair of him since Villam. One night he manages to sneak out from the Private Quarters in disguise, and comes to find one of you (Reynard, ???) Urixes and Arno
- Strategizing for the Grey Maw: The next leg of your journey has had the ship on edge before the voyage even began. A team is meeting to finish the final plans for how the Whispered Curse will conquer this fierce obstacle. Sit in and hear what they have to say, and present the Wild Bunch’s voice and opinion (Calthus, Officer’s Quarters)
- Interviewing a Mutineer: Aloro the Eladrin Mutineer is being held in the brig. She *barely* avoided becoming one of the murdered traitors who littered the Navigation Room. Maybe she’ll have more to discuss, once word gets back to her of what happened, and how close she came to meeting a *horrible* fate (Aloro, The Brig) Jack
- Funeral Rites: The bodies of the Mutineers remain. They should be buried quickly and cleanly, to hasten their spirits to the next life and try to ensure they don’t return like Captain Carver’s crew did (Natali, Main Deck)
- Seeking the Shitter: There was one loose end left that the Captain had tasked you with: seeking out the culprit who keep despoiling people’s food and drinks. Do you maintain vigilance, as you sniff out the foul prankster? (???, ???) Michael
"Lad, after all we saw up there today, feels like I need to learn more 'bout yer goin' ons. I've left it alone mostly because Arno and Michael seem to understand, so I ain't worrying. But after those skeleton bastards, I ain't sure what we're sailing into. And I need to be prepared."
Urixes begins his tale, starting with how many deaths he remembers. At least a dozen, probably more. "All of them were violent. Most of them deserved. I wasn't always as friendly as I am now. The first cycle I was a downright terror..."
He works his way backward, spending extra time on his clearest past life. "Back then Reynard wasn't a baron yet. Mitchum was just regular rich, not the filthy kind. Hells even Rax was just Rax the Regular Part of the Crew. But we found something. The bunch of us. Or I suppose the map did, and we just tried to follow it. Almost killed us all. It did kill me. I was a bard back then, if you can believe it. All smiles and songs..."
Urixes continues working his way through the past. "The first time I died, I sank. Deep. There was no light, no gods or fields of flowers, none of what I once sang so many songs about. It was darkness, and the crushing weight of an entire sea on top of me. Even though my body was already dead, my ... soul was in agony. It was so cold. The pressure was unbearable. And I just kept sinking.
"There was no time while I was down there. It could have been minutes, it could have been centuries. It felt like both, in a way. Every single moment of it was the most excruciating pain I'd ever felt. I was screaming for something, anything, to make it stop. To set me free. I don't know how long it took, but eventually something answered."
Urixes takes another sip of his wine, swirling what's left in the cup and staring deeply into it. "I don't know its name. It never told me. What it did tell me is that it could give me the power to get out. To make the pain stop. As it spoke to me I could finally see something, a light in the darkness. I was already agreeing to the bargain before I saw its tentacles, twisting and churning in the purple glow. They were reaching for me. And as I said yes, the grasp of the deep was upon me."
He pauses, looking up from his cup to search Oak's face. "Do you think you would have said yes, Oak? You're stronger than me. Maybe you could have held out."
The Shifter stared at his cup for a moment before looking up, starting back into his companion's face calmly. "Doesn't really matter what I woulda said, Urixes. Wasn't me who was there. A man can only do what needs to be done in the moment, and when that moment is over, keep goin' on." Oak lifts his cup to his lips, and drains it. Then leans in slightly. "That bein' said. Don't mean the decision be final. And if you be findin' yerself in a place where you can change it, I hope you know you can count on me to stand by ya and work it out."
Oak lets his words hang for a moment, before leaning back against his chair. "Now, maybe you can help with the other thing. Sounds like this map might stir up trouble as we head in. What do you know 'bout the Gray Maw?"
"The Grey Maw. They call it that because it has a tendency to swallow up whatever goes in, and there's a good chance it won't be coming out again. You have to time the entry just right for where you intend to go, or you'll end up somewhere else entirely. So the navigator, the captain, the crew, everybody needs to be on the same page. If there's someone trying to mess with that map, we're going to be in a bad way."
"You got history with 'im. Should I be worried if Rax has managed to get his hands on the map? Can't imagine he stopped trying when I didn't help."
DAY 24-CLEAR SKIES
OAK
Aloysius is downright *cheery*, the Goliath mumbling a sea shanty loud enough for Oak to pick out the words. The two brutes work together: taking measurements, cutting boards, sealing, sanding, nailing. Fiver keeps materials moving nearby. Oak and Aloysius receive a revolving cast of helpers from the crew at one point or another: someone to hold the occasional board, or stand dumbly nearby with a handful of nails. No one (save those already busy with other tasks, such as Calthus or Killian or Captain Arabella) in the crew seems to have more than a rudimentary knowledge of carpentry or shipbuilding, if that.
“That’s really not good,” Aloysius *rumbles*, ruminating to Oak as they take a break in the afternoon sun. “With Zook gone, we’re down to just the four of us that know what the *hell* we’re doing. And how much time the Wild Bunch and Rax’s Boys spend off ship…hell, I’m good, but I can’t be everywhere at once, fellas.” Fiver nods solemnly, nursing a mug of beer.
Aloysius stares off at the horizon, towards the Grey Maw and beyond. “Gonna be busting my *ass off*, if anything happens to the Curse in the Maw. We ever manage to get to the other side, the Captain will be looking to hire some new mates, and at least *some* of them better know how to swing a hammer!”
Aloysius puts the thought away for now, and the cheerful mood returns. “But that’s a problem for another day. For now, I was thinking: while we’re putting the place back together…”
Oak, Aloysius proposes making a change to the Architecture of the Galley, something only the three assembled here would know about. Do you build a hidden hatch into the floor, providing access to the Officer’s Quarters from above? Do you build a hidden compartment into the wall, big enough to hide one? Do you find a couple places to create weapon stashes? A much better idea for the space?
…
URIXES
The job is disgusting, but gets done rather quickly. The Rak’ta can organize and tackle a task with an almost frightening focus and efficiency. Urixes was right: Crude is *highly* competent, and could probably accomplish many of these shipboard tasks herself with a little more experience and a few pointers. He later finds out that the Rak’ta refuge isn’t even fully on top of her game…
“I apologisse that I am dissstracted,” She states plainly, as she and Urixes take hot water and soap to the remains of Wakeman Shayde. “Za Doctor wasss kind enough to keep watch of za eggsss, but with Grit gone…” Urixes can tell the lizard misses her mate, hates leaving her eggs in the care of another, but feels *torn* by her obligation to the Ship and Crew which have brought them away safely.
Feeling emboldened as she remembers the great care the Wild Bunch had given to all the Rak’ta they had come across, Crude decides to take a chance and share something personal with the Tiefling. “Crude and I….za plan wasss only to hitch a ride, and find our way to uzzers further in. Villam wasss….but, we both can’t imagine leaving za Expanssse. We feel zis place in our sssoulss…”
Stopping her frantic scrubbing for the first time, the bold young Rak’ta turns and looks Urixes right in his eyes. “Now I don’t know what to do, alone and with spawn…do I leave? Take zem sssomewhere sssafe, far away from zis place? Do I continue on asss Crude and I planned; find a ssship in Chaff, make our way to one of za coloniesss within?”
A thought suddenly occurs to her, and she laughs (a raspy, but not entirely unpleasant noise). “Do I *ssstay here*? Raissse young Rak’ta on a pirate ssship, among crew zat would…” She looks away again, remembering Crude under the Capstan…
Urixes, what advice do you give to Crude? Encourage her to leave immediately? Follow through with her original immigration plans? Stay, and try to make this ship her home?
…
DAY 26-WINDY
ARNO
Arno recognizes some of Zephyr’s “fans” from meeting them earlier, but there are mostly fresh faces here tonight. Arno can sense that, while a few might be here for the genuine “spiritual experience” Zephyr described, the *vast majority* of those joining are here because they read between the lines, and are interested in illicit substances.
“*Friends*!” The eerie yet effusive Genasi greets the latecomers, as he urges them all to gather around and take seats cross legged. “Thank you for joining us for this most fortuitous evening! I welcome each of my crewmates, both those I have seen before, and those just joining us tonight!” Zephyr’s face lights up with joy at all the additional attendance this evening. If the Genasi has considered that many of the people before him are here to get “wrecked”, he’s decided to brush past the point.
“We will be taking a journey tonight, deep *DEEP* into the Twilight Expanse…all while never leaving this Ship! With the collective consciousness between us, we will each open up our third eyes, and peer *past* the veils: the veils of the Expanse, the veils of limited perception, the veils of *REALITY*.”
Zephyr’s adherents (like Hugo the Doctor, and Eilibis the Eladrin) nod approvingly at this sort of language. Most of the newcomers dig at dirty fingernails, and stare about the ship awkwardly: this sort of talk is ridiculous and makes them uncomfortable. They were hoping for more…*substances*.
Sensing the mood shift, Zephyr decides to skip ahead a bit, and withdraws from his back a full tray of delicate, porcelain cups, and a still-steaming kettle. None of these items are from Michael’s kitchen; Zephyr must have brought them aboard himself.
“I must also thank the always amiable Arno! For helping to provide the…medium, through which we will make our transcendence this evening!” Zephyr begins pouring tea into each of the cups, the smell wafting along the Deck and trailing off into the night. The smell is…bad. It’s a *bad* smell. Like boiled sweat socks, or steamed slime. Pirates come up and carefully take the cups into their hands, wrinkling their noses at the content within, and returning to their seated position in the circle.
Zephyr saves the final cups for himself: it’s twice as large, and a sprinkling of the pure leaves sits at the bottom. Zephyr withdraws a mortar and pestle from nearby, and begins to *mash* up the pure leaves, humming as he does so. As he prepares his own concoction, he explains: “The leaves are *strong*, and I don’t wish to add undue tasks upon our already overworked doctor. I have boiled it down to a safe level, for those of you who are new to “seeing”. But for myself…I will taking the tea with a *pure* dose. I will become the focal point for the group’s visions, a Locus for our shared experience. If you ever find yourself going *missing*, come back to the sound of my voice…” (The new pirates begin to get excited, and clutch their disgusting drinks closer; now *this* is what they came for!)
Zephyr finally fills the glass, and raises it to the assembled Crew. They each raise their glasses in turn. “I want you to look to the Expanse. Not with your eyes, not with your memory…with the part of your spirit that has already been there; the primitive mind that already *knows*” Zephyr then throws his head and the cup back, downing the drink in the course of a few seconds.
Pirates nearby follow suit: down-the-hatch!
Arno: down-the-hatch? Or do you take the opportunity to pour the drink (subtly) off the side of the Deck, and watch the show?
…
JACK
She’s sitting in the corner, head in her palms and staring *morosely* at the floor. “So…they’re dead then,” she says as Jack walks in. At the face he makes, she smiles, not unkindly. “Word gets around quick on this tub…few people have already been around to taunt, say I should’ve been with em’…say if they get their way, I’ll be walking the plank…”
Aloro stands up, and walks over to slightly grip the bars. “I am sorry, *truly* sorry, for what I did. Conrad came to us, one by one, and told us that he had had a vision. A vision of his death, ours, *everyone* on this Ship. He predicted the Dutchman would arrive, and when it got here, it would *kill us all, and add us to its crew*. It’s one thing to die, but *that*…” Aloro shakes her head, clearly still getting shivers from the thought.
“The plan was to get the crew to Mutiny on their own; give em’ a push, sew enough discord that they locked up Captain Arabella, and put Conrad in charge. Of course,” she laughs ruefully. “*You guys* made sure *that* didn’t happen. But, Conrad wasn’t giving up, had another plan. He said…Conrad said he’d made *deals*, with dangerous people. *More* than enough to protect us…*more* than enough to make sure we survived our encounter with the Dutchman, even if no one *else* did."
Aloro’s knuckles clench white against the bars, and tears well up in the corner of her eyes, but do not fall. “So, he was right in the end…we *did* fall to the Dutchman. Just not, not the way he thought we would.”
“Please,” she suddenly change subjects, and leans pleadingly over the bars towards Jack. “*Please*, I’ve made mistakes, but I don’t want…I don’t *deserve* to *die* in this place. Help me…I’ll do anything you want, I’ll *fuck off* in Chaff and you guys will never have to see me again. Just get me out of here!”
Jack, do you try to get her out there? Do you tell her she deserves her fate? Do you do what you can to make her more comfortable in there? Do you attempt to further question her?
…
MICHAEL
Besides the hassle of constantly serving, ceaseless refills, and being constantly hounded at the door by hungry pirates, Carlee and Michael discover something else: pirates are children. Without the decorum of the Galley and shared space to keep them honest, plates get cracked and broken, silverware ends up in bed sheets, cups go completely missing by the half-dozen. It gets to the point where the cooks have to occasionally stop production *completely* to go track down enough bowls or serving ware to have anywhere to *put* the food.
Michael’s on one of these “bag in hand retrieving dirty dishes” excursions around the Orlop Deck when he hears a straining noise around the corner. He recognizes it immediately. The sound of grossly familiar, highly uncomfortable digestive noises. He turns the corner and finds Twitchy Joe squatted over a stew cauldron, defecating. The man is so utterly focused on his business he doesn’t take notice of Michael until he’s finishing up. His eyes widen to saucers and his face immediately *reddens*, as the cauldron drops with a wet *clang* behind him. “Oh. Oh shit,” he says, missing the irony of his own words.
Twitchy Joe backs into a corner and tries to clean himself off, having suddenly discovered boundaries. “Look, Michael, I’m…I’m real sorry, okay? This happened on accident…see, I’ve got real bad bowel issues, always have, and ever since we got out on the Expanse, the stress makes me…makes it…”
The pirate pulls his pants on, nervously trying to explain himself. Michael takes note of him: the man is *filthy*, slurring. His eyes don’t focus properly, despite obvious effort. You can tell from his skin and unnatural paunch that his diet is rubbish. That *twitch* of his is likely neurological, but you wonder if this man has the education to know what that means, or if he’d have the wherewithal to get help even if he did.
Twitchy Joe tries to explain. “The first couple times were accidents! I was in the Galley one day, and just *had to*….and then when I got away with it, and it sent the ship into an uproar, well…” A nervous grin creeps over his face at the memory. “…never *been* popular before, ya know? All of a sudden, even big shots like Aloysius or Calthus are talking about “the Mad Shitter”, and it just…” Twitchy Joe sighs, a spiritually fulfilled sound. “It made me feel important.”
The pirate stares ahead, his face happy for the moment. It’s like he’s forgotten Michael is even there.
Michael, you’ve discovered the Mad Shitter to be Twitchy Joe. The man is *clearly* unwell, both physically and mentally. What do you do? Do you raise the alarm on the Ship, have this menace and health hazard thrown overboard by a disgusted, vengeful crew? Do you have him Brigged, for his crimes against the Ship? Do you try to talk some sense into him? Do you keep this to yourself? Do you get him to a Doctor?
It's right about the time she's describing Conrad's manipulation that he's completely sucked in and as she finishes her story only his poker face is hiding the fact that he's blubbering on the inside. She was a victim of circumstance! Betrayed by forced beyond her! Imprisoned unjustly!
And also present when another of their crewmembers was brutally murdered. The memory of the butchered Rak'ta brings him back, though some part of him wants to trust her.
He pets Fusspot as a way to carry himself across as calmer than he feels, "Was killing Crude's mate part of this 'discord' then? How many more were slated to die to make this revolt happen?"
Aloro's eyes flash defiance, but her tone remains steady and pleading. “Please, you have to understand…we were told this was all to keep *everyone* from dying. Conrad said scaring them, throwing them off…it wouldn’t be enough. We had to let the *whole crew* know that this would come for them, personally. And *he* meant it, too, it was *that* important to him…Conrad killed his best friend in the world, the second mate Ishmael. Did it in his sleep, so he wouldn’t feel anything. He said, “now the Veterans, *they* know *they* aren’t untouchable.” Drank himself to sleep, that night, and the next...”
“Week later, him and Zook managed to snag one of Mitchum’s soldiers, back when they used to actually wander aboard deck. Did him in pretty good, too, but I mean, fuck those guys, right? “No one gives a shit about these *mercs*, and now Mitchum’s boys know *they’re* at risk.”, he told us.”
Aloro licks her lips, and looks uncomfortable at the next one. “Grit…Grit was bad. It…shouldn’t have happened. I think it scared all of us, when he…but Conrad had started getting more aggressive, more desperate. He started to turn on anyone who questioned him, ask if they were really “here for the cause”.“ Aloro turns to Jack, a pained look all across her face. “When he went for him, it got out of hand…Grit nearly fought his way out, and then Conrad knocked him under the Capstan and he….when he was done, he stood up, and turned to all of us. “Now, Rax, the Outsiders, even the *Wild Bunch* know that this is coming for them”, he said. And that’s when I knew, I *knew* we’d gone too far…”
Aloro looks at Jack, eyes wide and wounded. “I’m sorry. I made a mistake. I can’t take back what I knew, and did…all I can do is try to make it right.” Aloro smiles sweetly at the young man. "Please...give me.the chance to make it right?"
Jack, please roll Perception, DC-15. On a success, access to the spoiler: