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insomniac
insomniac142@gmail.com

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Skull and Shackles: The Bloody Hour
posted 5/22/2013 1:29:29 AM

Before I continue on part 2, I'm looking at running a second weekend game that would take place immediately after the first, as our druid and wizard are both in the UK and need to get to bed and I like to run at least 6 hours when I dm.

The game will likely run on at least three hours on Sunday evenings from around 6:30 to 9:30 (or later if no other party member needs to get to bed). Additionally, the game will likely only meet 1-3 times a month on weekends in which I'm not spending time with my fiancee, players will be given notice at least a week in advance, if not more on which days I'll be running; Early/late arrivals and missing nights won't be an issue as I'm planning on a party of 6 give or take one, which should always allow for the minimum of 4.

Priority for positions will be given to those who have expressed interest (HerpDerp2332, Dhampy, Tostman)

Dhampy clean out your inbox so I can PM you details.

And without further delay...
___________________________________________________________
Chapter 2:

"MAN OVERBOARD!" multiple voices rang out as ropes were tossed over the port railings. Artaith's blood was that of those who live on the elemental plane of air, the very blood that powered the massive burst of wind that knocked the shipmate overboard. And for a moment, she was as she desired, untouched.

Finn was well above the other sailors, but quickly realized that he had not fully thought out his course of action. He was now being chased by four well trained buccaneers on a boat surrounded by miles of ocean and he did not know how to swim...

Meanwhile, Valmont, Hobblin' John, Ingrit and Emyris abstained from combat, hugging the fore-castle wall.

Desperate for some form of plan, Finn slashed at the rigging ropes, knowing little about the sails of ships and which would give him time and which would spell his doom.

The rigging fell out from underneath him as he plummeted towards the deck. He grabbed for rope whirring past him, only managing to slow himself down slightly. Ingrit rushed under him and managed to break his fall, leaving them both on the deck.

The crew quickly lifted him to his feet and apprehended Artaith. "Master-At-Arms, deal with your greenhorns so we can get on with the day." spoke the captain.

Master Scourge's gold teeth formed into a wide smile. "First the lady. Three lashes for shirking duty, double that for resisting, and another six for the man we had to pull from the drink." He wound back the whip and let the first lash land. With that, the bard yelled out "I'll take the lashes!"

The crew erupted in laughter as Artaith was untied from the post. "That's my boy, stupid enough to pay for other people's mistakes" Scourge wound back and lashed until Finn lost consciousness. "Quinn, get over here and revive this man so he can receive his sentence after he's done receiving his friend's"

A woman with a shock of long red hair pulls on a tricorne hat she's kept in her hand, clearly reluctant to carry out her orders. Kneeling next to the catfolks body, she says a few quiet prayers, healing Finn. He awakes with a storm of half-coughs and screams.

"Two more boy, then you get your dues" Scourge finished the bard's punishment, leaving him exhausted. "You raised a blade against your shipmates, cut up my rigging and left my arm tired from all the whipping. You'll be spending the rest of the afternoon in the hot box."

A crewman opened up a cramped metal chest bolted to the deck made a welcoming hand gesture towards the space. Finn was unceremoniously thrown in and the chest was locked shut.

"Now to old business" the captain shouted. Jakes Magpie here is due for a keelhaulin' and I'm not the kind of man to keep him waiting any longer." The captain throws a buoy overboard where it's lifted from the bow by a yellow-skinned orc. "Best of luck Jakes, tell Besmara I send my regards" and with that the captain shoved Magpie over the railing.

His body made sickening thumps as it scraped across the belly of the ship. The orc and a fat sailor pulled him back up from the bow and threw him on deck. He was dead, covered in deep bloody cuts from the barnacles and other hangers on to the ship's keel. Scourge ordered his body to be thrown overboard and the remainder of the crew filtered down towards the lower decks to eat.

The party lingered on deck. They were approached by Sandra Quinn, the cleric who had healed Finn during his lashings. "Your friend needs to know how to mind his own business Ingrit" Ingrit turned and agreed. "It's quite fortunate that you managed to get press-ganged onto the same ship I'm on. I knew you were on board the moment I saw these." Quinn handed Ingrit a trident and a neatly folded net. "The rest of you and your group's belongings are in the quatermaster's hold, you'll have to buy them back or convince the owner to return them. They're technically the Captain's loot, but the ship runs on gold, not backpacks. I managed to get this too, figured it was your friends." She pulls Emyris' spell book out of a waterproofed leather bag. "Thought he'd need this and Grock doesn't have much need for the written word.

As for your friend in the box, he's going to need some help to make it to the evening.

Continued in part 3: Day's End

   
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Skull and Shackles: Press-Ganged!
posted 5/20/2013 6:41:08 PM

The Pathfinder game started last weekend, and as promised here is the first part of our first session.

Our crew:
Artaith: Sylph Storm Druid (Played by QueenNic)
Emyris: Sylph Siege Wizard
Finn Hornigold the Blacktailed: Catfolk Bard (Played by fault2k)
Hobblin' John Rib't: Peg Legged Grippi (frog folk) Ranger.
Nereida Ingirt: Gilfolk Rogue
Valmont Goldsash: Dwarven Smuggler/Merchant

Full Character list Link

Campaign Wiki Link

The group awoke with pounding headaches and the sickly taste of cheap rum and spicy food on their breath. The ground rolled underneath them as footsteps descended a staircase at the end of the dark room.

“Still abed with the sun over the yardarm?
On your feet, ye filthy swabs! Get up on
deck and report for duty before Cap’n
Harrigan flays your flesh into sausage skins
and has Fishguts fry ye up for breakfast!”

A bony man with a mouth full of gold teeth surrounded by a half-dozen men uncovers his lantern. They found themselves in the hold of a ship, and were quickly rounded up and forced up the stairs to the deck as they began to shake off the haze of last night.

A number of them recognized the gold toothed man from the night before, he was buying drinks... The druid recognized the aftertaste of taggit oil underneath the rum that remained on her breath, a poison favored by kidnappers and press-gangers.

The hatch above them breaks open and they find themselves blinded by the brightness of the sun. As their eyes adjust they see a deck full of buccaneers, four others are standing with them on the deck, set apart by their relative cleanliness and
their apparent unease with their newfound situation. A dozen or so other pirates, clearly existing members of the crew, stand about on the deck or in the ship’s rigging.

A man emerges from the cabin doors. Tall and dark skinned he wears a gold eyepatch over his left eye and carries a massive curved cleaver-like sword on his hip.

“Glad you could join us at last! Welcome to the Wormwood!
My thanks for ‘volunteering’ to join my crew. I’m Barnabas
Harrigan. That’s Captain Barnabas Harrigan to you, not that
you’ll ever need to address me. I have only one rule—don’t
speak to me. I like talk, but I don’t like your talk. Follow thatrule and we’ll all get along fine.

Oh, and one more thing. Even with you new recruits, we’re
still short-handed, and I aim to keep what crew I have. There’ll
be a keelhaulin’ for anyone caught killin’ anyone. Mr. Plugg! If
you’d be so kind as to make pirates out of these landlubbers,
it’ll save me having to put them in the sweatbox for a year and
a day before I make pies out of ’em.”

One of the sailors steps forward, bald save for a long ponytail at the back of his head and carrying a cat-o'-nine-tails.

Eye walks across the ranks of the newly press-ganged men, and pokes Valmont Goldsash, a rotund and well groomed dwarf, in the stomach with the butt of his cat'. "You look like you like food enough, you're the new cook's mate" "Do you know who I am?" the dwarf responds. Mr. Plugg quickly turns on his heels and responds "You're the new cook's mate" and tugs the leather of the cat-o'-nine tails threateningly.

"We need two new riggers, lost two in a storm last week and we're still cleaning bits of brain out of the deck. Dwarf, get down and start helping Fishguts cook the meal figuring he isn't too drunk to stand up, the rest of you start climbing."

With a crack of the cat, the remainder of the party scrambles up the rigging. Artaith stumbles out of the block and falls after just a few feet while the Grippli Hobblin' John and the Catfolk Finn Hornigold race up at speeds unknown to this ships crew. The two climbers spot each other on the rigging and race to the top, with Finn narrowly beating out the John.

Mr. Plugg gives out a quick laugh of excitement "You've grabbed a couple of keepers Scourge!" he smacks the gold toothed man on the back as the climbers descend back to the deck.

"That leaves you three." he directs his attention to Artaith and Emyris, two Sylph and the Gilfolk Ingrit. "You'll be fillin' in other duties as swabs"

The day's work is hard. Finn and John spend the evening hauling rope and repairing the rigging, Emyris does carpentry work repairing damage done to the ship during the last storm, Ingrit acts as a runner delivering messages across the ship while Valmont prepares dinner by himself as the cook is passed out drunk. Artaith, failing to climb the rigging finds herself cleaning out the bilges. The work is difficult and is ultimately unfinished at the end of the day leaving her exhausted.

Before dinner the crew is called on deck for "Bloody Hour". A man is to be punished for thievery on the ship.

The gold toothed man Master Scourge has the thief tied up and leaning against the stern railings.

"We're here to set an example for new and old that the captain's word is law on this ship. This man was found to be a thief and has been sentenced to keelhauling, but first, we need to deal with new business" He walks to the middle deck and approaches Artaith. "Shirking one's duties is not to be tolerated on this ship, and those bilges were plenty filthy and underpumped at the end of the day. You'll be gettin' three lashes for unfinished work, tie her to the post."

Not wanting to be touched, Artaith erupts in a burst of air knocking one man overboard. Finn the bard draws another pirate's cutlass and begins climbing the rigging as he tries to formulate a plan.

...to be continued in part two: The Bloody Hour

   
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Skull and Shackles: Prologue
posted 5/10/2013 7:52:00 PM

I had quite a few inquiries about the campaign, and it filled up almost immediately. That being said, if the Sunday campaign works out well this weekend, I'll likely begin planning a second, separate game to take place sometime during the week, likely on a Tuesday or Wednesday evening from 6-10ish.

Additionally, I'm going to be writing an adventure log for the game that will follow our plucky band of to-be pirates here in this blog. Furthermore, QueenNic may be doing some art for said logs. Anyhow on to the first, brief prologue.
-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_

On a long stretch of land and islands on the eastern edge of the Mwangi Expanse sitting within the coastal waters of the Fever Sea lie the Shackles; A nation ruled by the Pirate code and inhabited by the free captains who follow it.

And within the Shackles, looming over the waters of Jeopardy Bay you'll find the capital city of Port Peril, home to smugglers, freebooters, thieves and the crusts of society.

And within the city of Port Peril you'll find an inn. The Formidably Maid, home to the bawdiest shanties in Golarion and the most watered down rum in the port.

And within this inn you'll find five souls, eating spicy food and drinking the watery rum. Their fates forever changed from the moment they picked up their forks and tankards.

For in the food and watery rum lies a poison, a poison favored by the press-gangers of Port Peril. The crew of the Wormwood has run short on members and Captain Barnabas Harrigan isn't the kind of man to ask for willing volunteers.

_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

The story will follow our five press-ganged sailors.

Artaith (Played by QueenNic): Sylph Storm Druid. Born from a cross of Human and Air elemental energy, the Sylph share a close relationship with the winds and weather.

Nereida: A sea ranger of low azlanti descent, resembling humans in all forms save for the gills on her neck and webbing between her fingers and toes. She favors the net and trident.

M'aiq (Played by Fault2k): The plucky catfolk bard who's love of song is only outmatched by his hatred of water.

Zack: A Sylph wizard who has adopted the art of siege weaponry and the use of magic to amplify such engines.

Lastly a too-be-named Grippli swashbuckling ranger. Grippli are small and lanky things that resemble bipedal poison dart frogs. His seamanship is only outmatched by his eccentricities and bloodlust.

   
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A CHU D&D Campaign
posted 5/8/2013 11:55:13 PM

I'm considering starting an online Pathfinder (A newer version of D&D for the layman) game, likely to take place on Sunday evenings.

No prior experience needed, we'll probably be using roll20.net and skype.

I've got fault2k thus far and looking for 3 or 4 more. I'll gladly take questions in the comments section.

   
   3 comments 
 


So I started playing Dwarf Fortress
posted 3/30/2013 5:10:01 AM

You'll not question my honor in these halls!

The last words spoken by Tosid Shariden before gathering up his burrow and moving on to found his own expedition.

Moving far south into the elven rainforests he found a plot nestled between two elven empires, a dangerous location, but the geologist confirmed that the land had rich surface metal and flux deposits.

And so on those grounds became the location of Honesthome the True Truthful Honesty-Fortress of Fortresses. That should show those damn nobles who's the dishonest one in their halls.

We dug out our entryway, a long hall bisected by a small square room for the trade caravans to deploy, plus rooms for farming, brewing, and our eventual military barracks to hold the fort.

We would need to dig deeper to found our great halls as no true dwarf can live with his feet on dirt day in and day out.

Industry would be split between two levels. The top level would be dedicated to carpentry and smithing. Wood is required in both tasks, both as a material and as fuel.

Below that we would found our jewlers industry, as the stone had proven to be rich in precious stones in the layers above and likely the layers below. We would also locate our masonry and engineers here so they would be in close proximity to the stone left over from the gem mines.

Below that we founded the great halls. A massive longhall filled with tables and thrones. Around the great hall were large corridors off of which hundreds of rooms were cut as to allow each dwarf a place to sequester himself if needed.

Above the industrial districts and below the great halls we mined. The ground was indeed rich with surface minerals, however, nickle isn't very useful without another metal to alloy it with, it's veins did marble through our great halls and give them a pleasing appearance though.

So we dug deeper, towards the caverns.

And there we struck gold.

More gold than a single fortress could ever require. but you can't fight off an army of goblins with gold, we would still need iron.

Migrants arrived periodically, increasing our numbers dramatically. With numbers and great wealth comes the need for greater defenses.

We crafted a massive drawbridge out of a small portion of our gold horde, and paved the trader's hall with gold. We made golden chairs and statues for the meeting halls and golden doors for the nobles.

When the trading caravans came, we handed over piles of gold and gems for what little we needed and even more of what we didn't, and ensured the caravans made a great profit from visiting, as to encourage them to bring more goods next time.

We've had few problems within the Honesthome. A fisherman went mad and ended up killing two of our wardogs, a puppy, all of our cats, and injuring countless dwarves. A pump operator killed him with his bare fists, and so he was promoted to the captain of the city guard. We purchased more animals from the humans.

Monkeys are also an issue. They steal from our hordes, although usually mundane things, as they have no knowledge of value. They are a minor inconvenience at best.

We've only recently found iron veins and have begun to equip our military with armor and their favored weapons.

I uploaded an album of the fort in it's current state if anyone wishes to see what was described.
Link

------------------------------

This is my second fortress, after the first succumbed to dehydration I watched a few videos, did some research and founded Honesthome. The 'FUN' hasn't kicked in (meaning the game hasn't completely wrecked me in every possible way yet)

But I'm really looking forward to my first siege.

   
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