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Post by DM Nevets on Jun 8, 2014 15:24:44 GMT -5
Finally, on the ninth morning after leaving port, the sun rises to a partially clouded sky with little to no evidence of the storms that had been plaguing The Impolite Fortune, other than that of the repairs and cleanup that would have to be done to the aging galleon. One by one, the sailors take to their alloted tasks, some checking and re-checking the sails and lines while others appear with buckets and rags in hand, wiping down the rails and deck to scour away flotsam and seaweed. For the most part, these sailors are in good moods, and gone are the mutterings of the last few days that were claiming that the rain was a bad omen and ill tidings would befall this voyage. Some of you have tasks to complete as well, as dictated by your assignments aboard the ship, though even those of you with more... unspecific duties...decide that it just might be time to peek out of your cabins and see the light of day from the main deck. Again, it has been nine days since you left the port of Havenstal and ten since you were all gathered in the great hall of the Governor there. You were called, each and every one of you, to join an expediton across the ocean to the "Old World", that is, the far off port of Diaeya, once a powerful trading partner with the Eastern lands of the Empire. Mysteriously, more than one hundred years ago all contact was lost with the port city and the Imperial outpost that lay nearby. Numerous attempts were made over the years to rekindle trade with the region, but these were met with disastrous results. The first ships were never heard from again, and it was only after many ships were lost, when wise Captains turned tail and returned to Havenstal with stories of horror that the truth of the matter was discovered. Roughly half-way between the two ports, a two month journey in good weather, lay a churning vortex of mystic power and natural chaos. A storm the likes of which has never before been seen all but blocked progress across the sea for leagues beyond sight. Dubbed the "Great Maelstrom" by survivors of its fury, this storm claimed the lives of many, many sailors and foolhardy captains over a period of thirty years before the Imperial Senate decreed that there would be no more attempts to break through and that the area was off limits to all travelers and merchants. However, recently a sea captain calling himself Thal Rheegos has claimed that the Maelstrom is weakening, and that he has discovered a way through to the other side. Intrigued, Govenor Fril of Havenstal has assembled a small crew, essential solely for sailing the vessel, and the rest of you to act as explorers and spokesmen for the Empire. Your mission? To make your way (if possible) past the Maelstrom to Diaeya, see what has befallen the port there, and then to make contact with the Imperial outpost nearby. For this, each of you will be pardoned any past crimes (if any) you may have committed against the empire, paid 1000gp each, and if you desire it, given either a parsel of land or a commission within the Imperial Legion upon completion of the mission. For whatever your personal character reasons, YOU have agreed to this venture. This is it, guys. The game starts now. Ahoy, mateys! OOC: You can be as familiar or unfamiliar with each other's characters as you'd like, though introductions will be mostly in order. Character sheets won't need to be completed to get started...this thread will have more to do with character work than rolling dice or combat. However, I WILL need to approve your idea/race/class before you can jump into the fun. To aide your endeavour, you will be accompanied by several NPCs: Newly appointed Govenor to Diaeya - Jon Reece, a middle-aged man of portly and pale disposition, his son Kale, as well as Captain Rheegos, his first mate Krell, and 12 sailors. Each of you should finds something of value you can contribute to the ship during the journey, be it cooking, cleaning, medical aide, magical aide, or just taking shifts on watch. Decide for yourselves, and then choose a room from The Ship thread.
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Post by DM Nevets on Jun 9, 2014 9:10:40 GMT -5
For the most part, the main deck is open and debris free, having been the first location of the ship to be secured by the crew. Two sailors sit on the port side of the deck near a tangle of ropes and line, doing their best to untangle it. Captain Rheegos is on the Quarter Deck, overseeing the clean-up from a spot next to the helm. The govenor-to-be has yet to make an appearance above deck, though his son Kale stands at the forecastle, as far forward as he can be while still on deck, enjoying the view. Other sailors move about as their jobs require.
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Post by Klangwhyrr on Jun 9, 2014 14:50:16 GMT -5
Standing a pace behind Kale, but still within easy reach, was an enormous, mechanized man. It stood, solemnly, with arms folded across its massive chest. The light of the early morning sun scintillated upon the rows of plates from which the automaton was constructed. The plates overlapped in an ingenious fashion, with some having been wrought of ancient, magical alloys, while others were chiseled from cold, grey stone. Fibrous wood and strands of leather peaked through the joints of the automaton’s armored exterior and resembled living skin and muscle.
The automaton was, undeniably, an old thing – a relic; and the passing years had taken their toll. Evidence of conflict and hardship were etched upon every surface. The ancient metals and stone were marred by jagged nicks and ugly scratches. Unimaginable blasts of heat had left patches dark and scored. Decorative gems had been torn from their casings, leaving dark, empty holes, like the empty sockets of a dead man’s skull.
And despite its ragged countenance, there was no denying the automaton had once been a work of master craftsmanship. Every edge of every plate was trimmed with precious metals and elaborate filigree. Every surface was studded with precious stones or etched with graceful, flowing script. – an ostentatious style of a prosperous time, a time that had not been seen, on the mainland, in a century or more.
Something caught the automaton’s attention - some movement in the distance. With a faint droning hum, its head turned to the sea. From the shadowy depths of its helmet, the glowing points of light that resembled eyes, shifted in color; turning from amethyst purple to amber yellow. It watched something – something far away. It watched silently and vigilantly for a long moment – and then, as it reached for the child with its three-fingered hand, it spoke. The automaton’s words were proceeded by a series of soft, mechanical clangs and whirs. “Caution, child,” the automaton said. Its voice was hollow and empty, and seemed to travel across a distant void. “There are dangers in these waters. Do not stand so close to the edge.”
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Post by Professor Malvo on Jun 11, 2014 18:46:26 GMT -5
The door to the cabin opens and a man ducks through out onto the deck. Dressed in what can only be described as professional attire, hair slicked back and mustache waxed. He makes his way starboard, walking with an elaborate cane and nose in a tome. The man stops in front of a crate covered with the remnants of the past storm, he turns up face in disgust and with a quick tap of his cane and a whispered incantation the crate is spotless. He takes a seat, sets down his book and reaches into his jacket to retrieve his pipe and tobacco pouch, then diligently packs the pipe and with a word, it's lit. After a few quick puffs, he picks up the books and continues reading where he left off.
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nobel
New Member
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Post by nobel on Jun 14, 2014 12:43:13 GMT -5
Shortly after the professional well-dressed man exited the cabin door the door bangs open as a large brown haired slightly greenish brute dressed in animal hides squeezes through the door. As the brute walks to the starboard he stretches out and ritual scars can be seen down his arms. Once at the ships rails he calls out in a guttural language that seems to propagate with the waves and then waits looking skyward. After a few minutes an Eagle swoops down zipping past some of the crew to land on the brute’s large shoulder.
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Post by DM Nevets on Jun 14, 2014 17:20:46 GMT -5
"Aww, Klangwhyrr, I'm fine...I'm just looking." Kale spoke with a slight pout in his voice as he addressed the Warforged automaton behind him, not retreating from the rail. "Besides, I'm not a child. So quit calling me that...I'm almost 15 cycles old. Old enough to be an apprentice..."
However, his tone dropped off into a gasp of surprise as a large predator bird swooped down out of the sky and towards the deck. Granted, it was not aiming to land anywhere near him, but rather towards the barbaric Orc-kin didn't matter - the fact that it was headed for his side of the ship was enough to startle the Govenor's son.
******
"Many pardons, sirrah?" One of the sailors stood several feet to the side of the book-reading gentleman, obviously quite unsure as to how to address him and the situation he now found himself in. "Might be I'll be needin' ta move that crate soon enough, master, an' it won't go well fer yer books'er your clothin' if yer sittin atop it, aye?"
He then stood watching him with a vacant stare.
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Post by Professor Malvo on Jun 14, 2014 21:09:15 GMT -5
"What was that now, this crate you say?" Professor Malvo spoke with a think accent. " What a bit of bad luck that is" he said as he stood up to his full height of 6'5" towering over the nervous man. " Off you go, I shant keep you from your responsibilities, there's a good lad" As the professor scanned the deck looking for where to continue his reading, he came upon the warforged and the half-breed orc with the eagle. "Curious" he pondered as a strong breeze blew across the bow making his choice clear. Removing a handkerchief from his pocket to cover his nose he made his way to the warforged.
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blair
New Member
Posts: 42
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Post by blair on Jun 14, 2014 23:02:34 GMT -5
Having addressed the governor in private and was able to board the ship prior...(for not knowing how the rest might react to having a dragonborn aboard) it seemed easier if they where made aware after leaving port.......having stayed below and quiet....the storms have passed and the light of day was needed. In the predawn hours at the end of the storm Baham made his way to deck and climbed to the highest point atop the mast and stayed enjoying the wind and the air and the sight of wonderment. For this being only 3 weeks after his rebirth...(something he has dreamed of since........memory cannot remember).....he is free and is as he was always meant to be.......Bahamut heard his cries and answered ......so now aboard this ship .......with a crew of ....hopefully friends.....he sails to his homeland....... Time for introductions...........as a eagle sails past.......good as time as any
In a deep rasping voice
CAPTIAN.........IM COMING DOWN..........please ask the governers son the step to the left.......landing is not my strong suit yet.......and my apologies to everyone if this does not go well.
Atop the top of the mast everyone sees a pair of wings open a rather large humanoid begins to corkscrew towards the deck.........amazingly landing very well (looking shocked himself) he stand and bows and greats you all.......hello my friends ....I am Baham........Desendant of Bahamut .......I will do my best to assist to in our quest....and im am sorry if I ........disturb you.......
(Baham is 6' 10..... completely a Dragon humanoid with almost mirror like scales ......covered in a odd armor (lamellor) and a Great sword upon his hip)
Shouting............Govener.......where are you......we have sun and we are alive........come above.......
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Post by Klangwhyrr on Jun 15, 2014 13:21:23 GMT -5
The automaton’s attention returned to Kale. His glowing eyes shifted from yellow to a steadfast emerald green. “Your age is irrelevant,” he intoned. “Your proximity to danger is relevant. My appointed task is to guarantee the safety of you and your father. In this regard, I shall be ever vigilant. I shall never waiver.” Klangwhyrr’s eyes changed color, again, becoming a warm pink hue. He unfolded his arms and placed them on the leather belt girded about his hips. “In regards to the manner I address you, I will adapt to your preferences. What do you prefer? Young man? Kale?”
*****
Klangwhyrr observed the approach of Malvo. With the sound of stretching leather and ancient mechanisms, his head turned. “A good morning to you, professor. It is my hope you were not discomforted by the tumult of the past few days.”
Before the professor could respond, Klangwhyrr detected Baham. The eerie flickers of light that represented the automaton’s eyes flashed red – a terrible red. “Dragon-kin,” he said and crouched into a defensive stance. Long blades, wicked and curving, slid from the recesses of his elbow and lined the length of his forearm. An array of knives extended from his knuckles and wrists. Deadly studs and spikes protruded up and down his arms and legs. “Stand behind me, Kale. Stand behind me, professor. I shall defend you.”
And, then, suddenly, the fiery red points of light in his helmet retreated. The interior of his helm fell into empty shadows. It was as if an incapacitating moment of confusion had struck the automaton and he retreated into the depths of his mind to sort through the information available to him.
A few heartbeats later, the points of light returned, wavering between angry red and amber yellow. When he spoke, his distant-sounding voice carried a perplexed note. “I remember…dragon-kin.” The arsenal of weapons that sprouted from his body retracted. “Yes,” he said with confidence, “I remember. I remember the dragon-kin.”
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blair
New Member
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Post by blair on Jun 15, 2014 18:17:59 GMT -5
Looking around.......feeling a little uneasy of the ......Warforged.......(I cannot feel any anything for or against ..it...) .......greetings to everyone.......I am sorry there was no prior introductions........but I am aware of what I might represent to you.......I hope to be your friend....the evils of the old world now threaten OUR world.....I am hear to make sure that does not happen........evil must not ....(coughing)....sorry ....we do not yet know what we face......but I am hear to make sure it does not make any progress......by my life or death .......I serve the GOOD of life.......that is my pledge.......though my methods my seems chaotic.......I only offer help......if at anytime ANYONE would like a helping hand .......just ask.......I taking post atop the mast.......(as he climbs the mast the suns rays reflect a rainbow of colors off his scales.....not silver....not gold....a hint of blue.....weird a hint of red.....now almost nothing......almost nothing......yet there he is )........jumping more than 10 feet a jump Baham reaches the top in a few jumps......at the top he turns......at points at the Klangwhyrr......YOU......YOU I TRUST...........I hope to earn yours
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Post by DM Nevets on Jun 16, 2014 13:28:37 GMT -5
The sailors on deck remained still and silent, almost as if afraid to move. Was there to be a confrontation here and now? Should they draw bows? If so, should they step up and pick sides, or simply hide and see who emerged the victor? In the end, most of them simply stood looking upward to where the Dragonborn had returned.
"Hoy, there. What's this? What?" Captain Rheegos came bounding down onto the main deck from his perch near the helm. The half-elf was lean and flamboyant, his face adorned with a thin moustache and goatee, and a fine, thin dueling sword at his waist. He arched an eyebrow at the Warforged then winked.
"You definitely know how to make a dramatic entrance, my friend," he called up to the Dragon-kin, " But I'm thinking that when surprised, He..." Kheegos nodded to Klangwhyyr, "...might also know how to make a dramatic statement as well...one of a more violent type if you know what I'm saying?"
The 1/2 elven Captain took a step back and raised his hands in a diplomatic fashion, "My friends, my friends. Be at peace...this is no attack. Tis simply Baham, our rather large crow, coming down from the crow's nest with a report, eh?" Then, glancing back up, "Isn't that right, Baham?"
A few feet away, standing with Prof. Malvo safely behind his Warforged protector, the Governor's son finished the response he'd been giving when the outburst began with a muttered, "....just call me Kale. Kale is fine..."
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The Voyage
Jun 16, 2014 18:45:08 GMT -5
via mobile
Post by Professor Malvo on Jun 16, 2014 18:45:08 GMT -5
"Jolly good, I dare say the good Captain would bring aboard some unruly beast" The Professor speaks as he stows away his pipe and books and pulls out of his vest pocket a small, circular, brass item attached to a length of chain. He presses a button on the device's side and it opens. He looks inside and exclaims " and just in time for some tea!" He closes the watch and gives it a few winds before returning it. Reaching inside his satchel he retrieves a tiny bauble, and winds the key on its side. Places it on the ground and taps it twice with his cane. With a whirl and a click it transforms into a clockwerk automaton. It turn to the Professor and waits. "Tea time, we are entertaining so, put a full kettle on."
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Post by Klangwhyrr on Jun 16, 2014 19:55:07 GMT -5
"Kale," the automaton intoned, "I must speak with your father. The appearance of Baham has triggered a memory - and I have had access to very few of those since I was re-activated. I believe this memory will be of interest to him and perhaps the others."
Klangwhyrr strode boldly to the governor's quarters. Each precise, clockwork step was a statement of urgency, punctuated by the sound of his heavy, three-toed feet pounding the deck of the ship.
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blair
New Member
Posts: 42
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Post by blair on Jun 18, 2014 17:04:30 GMT -5
After some time in the crows nest and seeing a multitude of creatures in the sea around the past as the hours pass....Baham has a plan ......He climbs down and gathers up a 150 feet of rope ....has one of the mates tie it stern of the ship......and attaches the other end to a harpoon and back up the mast he went......now .....just need something to surface........we shall eat well tonight........just so tired of dried rations........fresh meat sounds good
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Post by Professor Malvo on Jun 18, 2014 23:49:48 GMT -5
Reaching down, the Professor picks up what was once the clockwerk automaton. Upon inspection he makes a few quick adjustments before storing it in his satchel. Taking a few quick puffs of his pipe he scans the half-orc not far away. With his cane thumping on the wooden deck he makes his way to the feral orc. "Professor Tiberius Ishmael Malvo at your service" he introduces himself with a smile and a nod of his head"I say, that's a magnificent raptor you have there" then looking up " and speaking of such birds of prey, what about our adventurous companion, will there be fish on the menu tonight?"
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