Have you ever seen a waterspout? It's what happens when a twister hits the ocean, sending a column of water hundreds of feet in the air. They only show up in the roughest of storms, and the smart sailors turn tail and run long before they get close enough to see one.
No one ever accused me of being the smartest of sailors.
A few months after I had liberated my "inheritance" and collected my crew, we were sailing in one such storm. Waves crested above our mizzenmast, and winds were so strong that we had tucked all our sails, letting Neptune's fury guide us. And there we saw her: the most beautiful waterspout ever formed by the gods. It must have been a hundred cubits wide, clear blue like a swirling lake in the sky. As the waves drew us closer, dozens of fish began to plummet from the sky, many of them crashing down on our decks.
"No hardtack tonight, boys!" Jill sang out as she wrestled with the ship's wheel. "Pick 'em up and stow 'em in a bag! And keep an eye on the spout!"
>The party gains two dozen rations worth of raw fish.
Little did we know that the waterspout was the least of our worries, for as our ship drew near, it became obvious that this was no ordinary spout. As we looked up to the sky, instead of normal stormy clouds, we saw what appeared to be another ocean, upside-down and glaring at us, with a myriad of unknown sea creatures swimming its ocean depths... or was it heights?
While we stared dumbfounded into the Mirrored Sea, a handful of fish crested the surface of the other ocean and began falling toward us, crashing down on our deck. The creatures of the other world seemed to notice us, and a couple of serpentine figures swam towards the waterspout with full haste, passing through it harmlessly into our ocean, then approaching our boat. Another figure that appeared as a wolf made of water and ice leapt from the surface of the Mirrored Sea and charged through the air, half falling and half flying toward us, the rain freezing into driving snow around it.
"To arms!" cried the Captain. Battle was about to start.
The raining fish did little to effect Garnesh in his daily activities, he had begun to pick them up off the deck while the fish hat continued to fall slapped against him, harmless and more annoying than anything really. That was before the Captain shouted for them to be ready for a battle, instantly raising his head to Sea the monsters that began to gun their way to the ship. Maybe all this fish was not so good for them.
The first to act, Garnesh the Bloodthirsty quickly assessed the situation as he saw the serpents move through the water spout before the strange wolf of ice and water came tumbling out of the sea above them. He found the wolf to be the largest threat and proceeded to deal with such a threat in one of the only ways that he knew how, throwing spears at the damned thing. He reached behind him, grasping the first javelin to come to hand and recklessly throwing it, a savage smile came to his face when he saw that the javelin was going to make contact with the creature, and it did as the creature swatted it away. He reached back to grab another javelin, using some patience to wait a moment before letting the javelin loose into the air. He could tell that it was a hit, smiling as he awaited to see if the creature would die. It didn't.
”Damnit!” The dragonborn roared in annoyance, glaring at the wolffish creature that seemed to now mock him.
As the dragonborn let fly with his javelins, a mighty wave roared forth from the seas, threatening to send us all to Davy Jones' locker. It crashed into the boat as those whose feet were firmly planted on solid wood were able to brace themselves, but those in the rigging and crow's nest were flung about like a toddler's yo-yo. This storm seemed to have a life of its own!
>Those on the deck are easily able to grab ahold of something to steady themselves, but those who are climbing on the masts and rigging will need to make a Dexterity Save. This includes @Gordian Nought, @Big Dread, and @Zverda.
>Calico Reemes is unable to hold on and falls off the edge of the ship into the icy water below, taking 11 bludgeoning damage and 8 cold damage. He is prone in the water.
>Koan holds on to her grasp on the Mizzenmast and does not fall.
>Nemiea is knocked free from the Crow's Nest and plummets to the deck, taking 10 bludgeoning damage, but manages to land on her feet.
Having landed on her feet with some minor Jarring, Nemiea couldn't help but glare at the cause of the tidal wave that had removed her from her perch on the Crow's Nest. "That was not very nice!" she half shouted, an angered look crossing her face before she leveled her Flintlock at the Wolf flying towards them. Two beams shot out of the weapon in consecutive order, both slamming into the beast to cause it some damage and seeming to please her greatly. However, knowing one of her compatriots was stuck in the water, she rounded on the Serpent closest to the shit and fired one last beam, the weapon seeming to refuse to fire off the last one. "Well damn," she murmured, letting out a huff as she jammed back the hammer on the weapon, [color=c0c0c0]"How rude of you Sienna, you aren't supposed to jam with magic you silly weapon!"
Despite the final misfire, she looked over at the Barbarian and smirked at him, "It seems your arm isn't as good as you thought it was my dear friend," she teased, offering the man a playful wink before twirling her pistol before looking towards her closest companion. Even in a fight, she was still all for teasing her friends.
Atk roll 1 ---> 19 SUCCESS! Atk roll 2 ---> 26 SUCCESS! Atk roll 3 ---> 25 SUCCESS! Atk roll 4 ---> 15 Well damn
Hit 1 ---> 6 Hit 2 ---> 4 Hit 3 ---> 4 Total Damage to Wolf: 10 Total Damage to North Serpent: 4
The wolf screamed down from the watery heavens with a howl and a swirling dervish of driving snow. On its howl, the crew could swear they heard various words in Common: "Trespassers, Infiltrators, Go back!" The wolf inhaled deeply and released an icy blast that covered our entire ship, causing the crew to shiver.
>Garnesh and Nemiea pass their save, taking 10 Cold damage. >Calico and Dyn fail their save, taking 20 Cold damage.
Jill searched her memory for the identity of a wolf that could send a blast of ice from its jowls. The only creature she could think of was a Winter Wolf, but those were usually much weaker and generally did not fly. This creature seemed much more dangerous, and would require much more effort than one of those. Knowing that she could not turn the ship against both forces of nature and denizens of another realm, she left the wheel to its own devices, instead rushing into the center of the ship. Concentrating deeply on the hidden secrets she had uncovered from an ancient sect of paladins, she glared up at the wolf, her eyes shimmering with white light. "Come, behold our power!" she shouted, unleashing an invisible wave of energy among her allies.
Turning her attention to her floundering crewmate, Jill shouted out some "encouragement" to Reemes. "Break time isn't for another three hours, Calico! Get your ass back to the ship where I can see it!"
Arcana Roll to determine what the Wolf is: 7 Casting: Circle of Power Bardic Inspiration: 1d10 to Calico Reemes.
HP: 83/83. AC: 15. Bardic Inspirations: 4/5 remaining. Currently Concentrating on: Circle of Power (10 minute duration) Slots | Expended - Level 4 | 0 - 1st 3 | 0 - 2nd 3 | 0 - 3rd 3 | 0 - 4th 2 | 1 - 5th
The storm managed to surprise the many eyed freak of the ship, much to his disdain. Dyn'yer'zhead was the name of the Beholder who threw fish out of his hat as he judged the scenery before them. The sea had decided it needed to exist on the sky as well as below the boat. A peculiar sight, but something that only irritated Dyn further. The sea would stay where it was meant to be unless he said otherwise. He shook his magical cutlass towards the icy wolf shape, only to hear it shout at the crew. And it didn't help its case by barking orders, that was for sure.
The blast of cold air pushed brutally past the beholder, causing him to momentarily close his eyes and grit his teeth together. It was numbingly cold, but as it was over the Beholder sneered at the opponent and took a sharp breath, calling upon magical prowess within. And it came to him. The magic he had toiled to obtain from the secretive elves was once more his to command. This... elemental, as far as he could tell, would rue the moment it decided to bark orders at a superior being.
Dyn spat onto the deck, his gemstone decorated eyepatch right next to his largest eye glimmering in the freezing rain. "You think you can order me around? Inferior creature, learn your place! Be held by my might!" the Beholder bellowed as he released his spell in an attempt to stop the creature from acting so he could teach it how to behave around him the proper way: Beating the lesson into it.
Dyn does not budge from his spot movement wise. Arcana roll to determine whatever that wolf thing is was 14. Having Mage Armour already active, he uses his bonus action to begin Bladesong. This gives him the following benefits:
AC is increased by INT mod
"Walking" speed is increased by 10ft (totalling 40)
Advantage on Dexterity (Acrobatics) checks
All Concentration saves are made with a bonus equal to his INT mod
Upon taking damage, he can now as a reaction expend a spell slot to reduce the damage taken by 5*lvl of slot
Dyn casts Hold Monster at the wolf elemental thing, demanding them to make a WIS save against his DC of 16 or be paralysed for as long as he concentrates on the spell (up to 1 minute). If it fails, the creature can repeat the save at the end of its turn, ending the effect on a success.
HP:42/62 AC:20 Bladesong active for 10 more rounds Slots/expended: 4/1 1st 3/0 2nd 3/0 3rd 3/0 4th 2/1 5th
The serpentine creatures swam closer, crying out in some foul language the same phrase over and over again until it seemed burned into everyone's mind. A high-pitched screech of Svent, svent, svent! echoed through the waters as they approached. These creatures seemed to have some intelligence to them, and curled up a short distance from the boat, ready to dart away from our attacks. Thankfully, they seemed unable or unwilling to act... or perhaps they waited for something.
Spend a couple hundred years on the seas in storms of all kinds and you go overboard eventually. While this was not the first time the dead pirate Calico Reemes had been tossed overboard by a storm; nor the first time he had been tossed overboard in general, this was the coldest he had been during such a trip into the embrace of his love. Almost as soon as he had hit the freezing wake he had twisted himself back to his right way up and kicked himself to the surface. A stream of curses and hate spewed forth from his mouth foul enough to make the ears burn off of any upstanding cleric. Were he a dragon, his breath would be a string foul insults so severe it would turn the poor adventurers who faced him minds to jelly and soap. Luckily for his companions and for the populace at large, Reemes was not a dragon. He was just a wet and very cold pirate.
Each sailor has fingers like fish hooks and Reemes had been trig enough to keep a line 'round himself when he was up in the rigging. You learned things like that when you were always on a ship, see? A quick grasp of the rope and a couple quick loops made the thing into a nice line up the side of the slick ship. Gritting his teeth and hissing curses in every language he could muster up in the freezing air, he hauled himself up and onto the deck with a damp thwap. Dripping from the ocean and steaming from the pure hatred he left towards that loud bitch that was flying down towards him, Reemes drew forth his pistol on his belt and returned his own shout at the uppity dog-thing. "Shush'er gob y'mangey fuck puddle!" He howled into the storm, thumbed the hammer back, and let the thunder of his own weapon match the crashing storm around them. As soon as the first shot rang out he sent another streaking after it.
His aim was true as it could be and the balls of lead death leaped from the muzzle of his weapon and right into that opened mouth of the cold spewing beastie. Reemes grinned like a mad man, icicles hanging from his jawline breaking from the motion of the skin and clattering to the deck. He'd see that damned thing choke on a mixture of burning lead and its own blood for making him shiver. Reemes was already planning on ripping that skin off the thing's bones and seeing just how many coats he could make. Of course, he'd never tried his hand at tailoring but there was a first time for everything. Reemes took a deep breath, steadying himself for the comming battle. This was going to be a good one. His left hand dropped to the hilt of ghostly blade and was ready. Oh yes. Finally ready.
The trill of the drow’s diamond stud reverberated off the icy heaven above, signaling to both foe and specifically their absent, vampiric crew member below the hull, of the storming monsters flanking Jill’s beloved ship. She understood the need for beauty rest, but her fellow warlock’s pale skin was beyond repair.
Her ululation persisted its tone, oscillating with varying doppler shifts as she reflectively leaped into the sail behind her, mechanically enveloping and finally skirting her scarred physique to the second tier of the Mizzen. Twirling, the jester’s war cry continued as she pranced delicately along the shrouds rigged to the mast, with athletic ease onto the deck, all the whilst parodying a mime tipotoeing, as she parodoxically desired all eyes tensely fixated upon her physical puppetry and ironic shenanigans.
Koan thrived on this attention; the Bard wanted to perform, with a smile.
Tumbling between her captain, the Beholder, and the Tabaxi, the clown popped and locked her appendages but vacillated into motion, similar to the waves of the ocean to which they all were partial. A breakdance commenced, offering Heroism to the quartet, as she whirled and coagulated rhythm to yodel, eventually dropping the last beat to speak.
Toying a sneer, she bellowed, “Time to…”
Her gray skin began to glimmer with wild magic, surging with visible, viscous scales, and a shark fin to match. Flipping over the flailing tentacles of the patched, but still many-eyed pirate, Dyn, she raced vertically back up to her previous perch, as if gravity no longer bore restraint on the clown, shouting again, once halfway up the mast, but atop her circus.
Her ichthyotic cap jingled with bells, she howled the alarm,
Like Dyn, Koan routinely casts Mage Armor every 8 hours, but with a Warlock Slot, which recovers from each short rest.
Koan also possesses a Ring of Water Walking, allowing movement on ice/water as solid ground and not as difficult terrain.
The aforementioned movements are under the pretense of Koan’s passive Athletics 18, passive Acrobatics 22 and passive Performance 18.
1. Bonus Action. Activate Boots of Speed; any creature that makes an opportunity attack against Koan has disadvantage on the attack roll. Tumbling Fool also allows Climbing speed to equate walking speed; hence a base 60 feet without Dash. 2. Climb down Mast to stand in the center of the triangle Dyn, Jill, and Nemeia. 3. Using Breakdancing moves just for flava, Koan touched all 3 of them (including herself) and cast a Level 4 Heroism spell, which will net 4 temp HP at the start of each of their respective turns and they are currently immune to being Frightened. 4. Koan must now roll a 1d20 for a possible Wild Mage Surge effect, with DC 4 or less as the spell cast was Level 4. Koan rolls a 4, which triggers a 1d100 roll on the Wild Mage Surge table. 5. She rolls a 39 and regains 2d10 hit points at 16, in the form of a shark's scales and fin, but this serves absolutely no purpose whatsoever. Just flava flav. 6. Then she rushes up HALFWAY back the Mizzen with the rest of her 60 feet movement.
HP: 43/43 AC (20): Mage Armor (13) + Cloak of Protection (1) + DEX Mod (+4) + Shield (+2) Movement: 60 feet climbing and walking under Boots of Speed (9:54 seconds left; 6 seconds/turn) Weapon: None
The storm raged, claps of thunder matching crashes of waves across the ship's bow. The vessel tossed to and fro as the captain struggled to fight the calamity of the sea hanging overhead. Wait... The sea overhead? Bilford Bogin! The sea's overhead! Of course! That's what's causing the stir.
"Captain Jill!" Eliza exclaimed before turning to the abandoned helm behind her. She made a disappointed sigh and stomped forward on deck until she reached the staircase that led off the bridge. An ocean blizzard of a wolf strode down from the sea-addled skies and the gnome's protective instincts surged into an incantation. As the magical beast approached, she drew in the air with her staff and formed a dome with her hand, mind affixed to the friction of the Weave's magical threads. A phrase, any phrase, was yelled out to guide the powerful threads to her presence.
"Captain! Steer us clear of the--" Waves battered the hull of the ship, wrenching Eliza from her stance. Her body tumbled down the staircase for an instant until her staff slammed onto the deck, holding her upright. "--the waterspout will capsize us! It's a portal!" Her phrase continued unabated as her concentration was held expertly. The dome constructed of her fingers clenched into a closed ball as a final swing of her staff punctuated the incantation. A swirling mass of translucent energy encapsulated the elemental wolf until the magical threads wove together into a solid sphere of prohibiting force.
Eliza moves just on the other side of the northward stair. Rolls an Arcana check of 28 to identify the mirrorsea and waterspout. Has casted Mage Armor and Water Breathing this morning. Casts Wall of Force in a sphere around the wolf. It has no save. The spherical Wall of Force is free-floating in the air, prevents all damage from entering or existing the sphere. It lasts for up to 10 minutes of Eliza's Concentration or until destroyed by a Disintegrate spell.
72/72 HP - 16 AC Expended Spell Slots 1st: 1/4 2nd: 0/3 3rd: 0/3 4th: 0/3 5th: 1/2
A man clad in shadowy clothes walks out from belowdecks, yawning. Normally, this man slept under the decks until come nightfall, where he'd do a lot of strange, creepy, possibly illegal things. Red eyes began to survey the deck once he was up, and he started to shiver. It was cold, he thought, Too cold. Normally, a man of his nature isn't bothered by the cold too much. He could even walk naked without worry of the cold... at least, in a normal climate. Right now, it's almost freezing for him, and his intuition tells him something is off.
Whatever it may be, it probably won't suspect him. His cloak was already donned as he went to a crouch, the colors of his clothes shifting a shade of white, becoming one with the blizzard. While his boots masked his very sound, he felt as if their full effect wasn't as neccesary, with the howling winds of the storm they were in already doing most of that for him. Once he stepped off the stairs onto the main deck, he traversed through the slippery, icy ground of the ship carefully. What he saw when he ascended was a great, white sphere, and within, something he can't easily discern. He carefully made it toward the stairs, positioning himself behind it. l Whatever was in that sphere, the man though it would have a hard time hitting or even seeing him from here.
The man quickly shuffles at his belt, grabbing two strange... star-shaped discs. Weapons, perhaps? Well, whatever they were, the man stayed down, warily, waiting, not throwing them just yet. He awaited for a clear shot, or at least, for one where his crewmates would be able to point out easily for him...
Shikirari Visekos, the Bloodsucking Demon of the East, stayed hidden, patiently waiting for his time to strike. His throwing stars- his shuriken- readied to strike at the first threat that makes itself apparent...
Shivs HP: 87/87
The man formally known as Shivs headed up to the main deck, heading behind a flight of stairs, facing north, using the stair as cover, and using his bonus action to stay hidden.
The ice wolf was of top priority to be destroyed, but then the chanting of the serpents reached him and it annoyed him with their incessant chanting of the word “Svent,” a word that he knew all too well. He began to waltz over to the railing, javelin in hand as he did so with anger and annoyance clear in his facial expression. Then, he began to curse at them in dragonic “<Stop that chanting and leave, or I will rip out your intestines through your mouths!>>” He now stood next to the Captain, though he did not pay any attention to her; the barbarian was too dull to focus on more than one thing at the moment. Garnesh readied a javelin in his hand and threw it at the closest serpent that he could see, it was a hit. Again did he toss a javelin, once again did it find its mark as it was carried by his immense strength, the strength of gods in his eyes. A smile went across his face as he saw that the javelins had wounded the annoying creatures, but he wanted more blood to ooze from the creatures. He was bloodthirsty.
As the seas roiled and their fury pounded against us in a sleet-filled blizzard, more of these suicidal fish seemed to leap from the Mirror Sea above as if called by the wolf-like entity. They crashed down around us, but my spell held off the worst of the potential harm. It was an unusual feeling, being slapped in the face with a fish as large as my head, and I am ashamed to say it was neither the first nor the last time I had experienced such a sensation.
Nemiea was not at all pleased with what was going on, mostly because the idea of being hit by fish rather than eating them was not a pleasant one to her. Part of her even wanted to take the fish and throw them at the serpents, but that would do very little other than feed them she was sure. Letting out a rather low growl, she turned and practically raced up the mast, her claws digging into the ice that had slicked the surface in its attempt to keep her from the Crows Nest. The moment her claws dug into the ice, she smirked, she was going to have some fun with this because why the hell not? Normal climbing was just too boring, "The storm is the wolf's doing!" she shouted as loud as she could manage, hoping her compatriots would be able to hear her over the roaring that was the blizzard. Turning her attention back to the mast, she opted to put her performance abilities to the test, "Xarzith shilta ti pok ve."
Climbing up the mast proved to be fun, just to amuse herself she would hoist herself up the frozen wood with her claws, ignoring the existence of the rope that was meant to assist her. Doing this meant she had to be careful with what she had planned and frankly, wrapping one's legs around a mast was not as easy as some would think. Letting out an annoyed sound, she secured her hold with her legs and let herself flop upside-down for a moment with one arm pressed agianst the mast for easy leverage back to climbing. Her eyes fell on the Northern most Serpent, her lips curling into a cruel smile. "Happy Birthday!" she shouted gleefully as she took aim at the creature with her flintlock and fired. A large orb of Lightning shot from the object, far larger than one would even think possible considering the size of the Magnus, and collided with the intended target.
Letting out a gleeful noise only her feline ears could hear, she used her arm to push herself back into an upright position so she could finish scurrying up into the Crow's Nest. Once there, she took aim once more, this time at the Southern most Serpent and pulled the Trigger. While the Size of this lightning ball was maybe only half that of the other, it struck true just as the first, leaving a very pleased Traxian relaxing up in her favorite perch. After all, what cat doesn't seek to be higher than everyone else? A crazy one, that's what.
Atk roll 1 ---> 23 SUCCESS! Atk roll 2 ---> 18 SUCCESS!
Hit 1 ---> 18 + 4 Charisma Mod Hit 2 ---> 9 + 4 Charisma Mod
North Serpent dmg ---> 22 South Serpent dmg ---> 13
The wolf seemed less than pleased about its new cage, swirling about angrily like a snow squall. It opened its mouth and released an angry howl that sounded like a dozen banshees screaming at once, the kind of sound that pierces into your very soul and eats away at your sanity. I, of course, was unaffected thanks to the spell I held aloft, but some of my allies were not so lucky.
>The Thuellai uses Howl of the Maddening Wind. Everyone must roll a Wisdom Save.
>The following people pass: Jill (20), Dyn (24), Eliza (24), Koan (17), Garnesh (21), Reemes (17)
There was little to do but level my pistol at the serpentine foes. No, not serpentine... drakes! These creatures were Coral Drakes, draconic beings that lived among the corals, but sometimes venturing to the deeper seas. Like all draconic beings, they were far more dangerous than they appeared on the surface: their breath weapons were deadly, and these drakes appeared to be able to swim AND fly. These were no mere water snakes, and it was my duty to inform my crew.
"Drakes!" Jill shouted before pulling the trigger on her pistol. "They're not serpents. They're a type of dragon!" The shot was placed expertly, striking the enemy between the eyes... or it would have if the drake had not been dancing erratically. Instead, the bullet sailed between its coiled form, missing completely. "Dammit..." Jill looked around to see which of her crew were harmed, and Nemeia's pole-dancing form caught her eye. "Hold it together, Nemmy!" she cried as her healing words soothed the tabaxi's wounds.
I'm awarding inspiration to Nemeia because pole-dancing while shooting lightning from a gun is fantastic and we need more of it. @Zverda
Arcana Roll to determine what the Serpents are: 17 Attack with +1 Pistol (disadvantage due to Dodge): 14, but misses.
Casting: Healing Word at Lvl 4 for 19 HP on Nemeia. Bardic Inspiration: Not used this round.
HP: 83/83. AC: 15. Bardic Inspirations: 4/5 remaining. Currently Concentrating on: Circle of Power (10 minute duration) Slots | Expended - Level 4 | 0 - 1st 3 | 0 - 2nd 3 | 0 - 3rd 3 | 1 - 4th 2 | 1 - 5th
Dyn'yer'zhead was highly disappointed by how his magic failed to take effect and how the gnome in turn succeeded in imprisoning the creature without difficulty. The only thing that kept the Beholder's pride in check was the fact that her magic was nowhere near as useful as his would have been, given it quite clearly protected their opponent as it soon howled at them, something he consciously ignored. The wolf ws insignificant to him as long as it could not be harmed for trying to give him orders.
There was no other option but to turn his attention towards the chanting serpents, staring at them through the cloud of raining fish. Jill shouted something about them being more dangerous drakes, more threatening than they appeared she said. Dyn scowled at them, but since he had nothing else to do he could as well focus his attention on them for a moment. His eyes itched, not from the water or the salt contained within, but of the will to fire off a few eye rays. But the brain housed within his brilliant form had other plans.
"This world... could use a little more... me!" Dyn yelled, ignoring the possibility of nobody hearing. It was him talking, of course they would listen. He swung his tentacles around, mumbling a few words of power. As he did, black tentacles erupted from the side of the ship, reaching for the two drakes in the water. Created from a part of him, Dyn was sure his magic would have the wanted effect and began making his way across the deck to be in a better spot come the moment to strike at the wolf.
But alas, even the confidence of a Beholder is not strong enough to alter the cruel reality.
Dyn'yer'zhead casts Evard's Black Tentacles on the side of the boat so that the area affects both of the Drakes. Each turn a creature starts its turn in the area or enters it for the first time in the round, they have to make a DEX save against Dyn's spell save DC of 16 or be Restrained and take 3d6 bludgeoning damage. Any creature that starts its turn restrained will take this damage and can use an action to attempt to break free with a STR or DEX check against the same DC of 16. The side of the ship is also considered difficult terrain.
He then crosses the length of the ship, stopping at the portside edge. In caase difficult terrain would be a problem, well, it isn't. Ring of Free Movement.
HP:42/62 AC:20 Bladesong active for 9 more rounds Temp HP: 4 Concentrating on: Evard's Black Tentacles, 10 rounds duration remaining Slots/expended: 4/1 1st 3/0 2nd 3/0 3rd 3/1 4th 2/1 5th
The chanting from the drakes ceased as the wolf howled, instead turning to incoherent babbling. The coral drakes inexplicably remained where they were, floating on the top of the water while encased in Dyn'yer'zhead's black tentacles, seemingly not caring that their life's energy was being sapped from them. Their babbling increased in a nearly religious fervor, but the words were unintelligible. In fact, it was likely that they meant nothing at all.
As the pistol smoke started to dissipate, Reemes watched a massive bubble form around the big flying dog thing. Well, shooting through that magic was just not going to work. That was all fine enough as far as he was concerned though. He wondered if that big thing needed to breathe and hoped to the Great Watery Lady it did. It would use up all its air in no time at all and start to choke and suffer like the horrible beastie it was. If the bubble ever went down... Well, he had a few cannon with that damned thing's name on it. For now though, he needed a better way to put lead on target to all these bastards and gashes. No need to assume they all didn't know their fathers or were men. He couldn't tell which set of swinging dangles or meaty holes they might have, he would need to make sure he didn't assume when he started screaming again.
His thoughts were stopped by the loud mouthed wolf making a proper fuss about being stuck in the floating magic sphere. Ha, he should be upset. He was about to become the biggest coat on the planet. The caterwauling scroon howled like the massive bitch it was. Reemes felt something tickle in his head but found the whole thing rather silly. You don't get in the head of Calico Reemes. Many had tried and all those who had succeeded regretted that dearly. Reemes shot the beastie a set of bared teeth and howled right back at it, his mad imitation audible over the howling gale like an echo of the wolf's terrible wail. With that, he turned and darted across the icy deck. As he passed by Dyn, who was coming over to have a better look at the bubbled beast he shouted some encouragement to him, "Saws'em up'en y'can, y'orrible dangin' bollock!" with a hop and a cackle he grabbed the rigging of the mast and scrambled up to the edge of the crow's nest like a monkey. On his way up he noticed the scarred up killie that had done a little dance and touched a bunch of folks. Well, everyone but him pretty much. "No touches fer ol'Calico, eh? I see 'ow y'are! You'll 'ave t'make it up t'me!" he hollered out across the wind to her as he heared the top of the mask and howled with mad laughter. He reached the top the pirate saw it was occupied by a very confused looking kitten and gave her a wink. He hooked his left arm in a rope to steady himself and leaned out for good ol'fashioned killing.
With one arm holding the ropes and his feet planted on the mast, his body sticking out at an extreme angle, he took aim. " 'ere y'are y'squigly scroons'r'trills!" he tilted his arm to the side as the recoil would cause the muzzle of his weapon to jump in a horizontal(horizontal to him at least) sweep and sight up the second of the serpents. His thumbed and shot the first serpent, taking a little more care with that shot, then used the muzzle jump to sight in the second and fire away his last shot at the other serpent.
His first, and the more important one, hit it's mark for sure and that made the dead man very happy. Of course, his pistol was empty now and smoking with the quickness with which he had expended the shells. " 'old fer me, kitty." he called back over his shoulder and tossed the weapon back over his shoulder into the the crow's nest with Nemiea and snatched the other pistol from his belt with a practiced hand. Hammer back and ready to make more corpses. Oh, this was just so much fun.
Reemes uses his cunning action to dash and go up the rigging to the edge of the crow's nest and hooking himself there with a rope and occupying his left arm. Then leaning out like an insane person, he shot at both serpents using his dead eye on the first one to gain advantage and hitting with a roll of 27 and dealing 5 from the attack and 8 damage from the sneak attack. The second shot was more haphazard at a roll of 16 and if it hits it would deal 7 damage. With his pistol out of bullets he drops it into the crow's nest and draws the other.
The cartilage skinned clown reveled in the sight of the boggy bazaar.
"It's a portal!"
A spherical penitentiary encapsulated the Thuellia, courtesy of Eliza, rock gnome extraordinaire. Shivs finally aroused from his vampiric hibernation from all the wails above deck. Yawning for salt and blood, shurikens soon filled the spaces between his readied, pallid phalanges. Harpoons followed, hurled from the black dragonborne, coupled with curses only a totem barbarian could fathom, while osteichthyes drizzled, from above, upon ship and ally, drowning Garnesh with a bony feast of scaly discomfort. The satiric bard, like her compatriots, braced herself, riveting her ashen body to her post, as the bow oscillated from the fishy force.
The murder pageant did not cease there.
The athletics of the saber Tabaxi rivaled the jester’s very own gymnastics, demanding an audience and a fee from the Crow’s Nest, as her flintlock spewed forth lightning against the Svent-bent serpents. The ocular and appendage blessed sailor, tacked on magical noir tentacles against the side of the hull, but ultimately botched in restraining the elusive devils. Calico quickly joined positional advantage with Nemiea, procured aim, and discharged two shots against the babbling fools, in customary fashion.
Koan was mesmerized.
So… Much… Action…
Then, a howl broke the glacial haze.
The wintry wolf’s holler pierced her ear drums; lunacy drilled into any cerebral sanctuary privileged to savor its audible prison break, endeavoring a mantle of psychosis to befall the crew, with two comrades seemingly already heeding its momentary insanity.
Noting the wisdom fall from the feline's mismatching irises, the jester cried to her friend in need, “Twerk it, girl! Give ‘em a show!” Swiveling her attention to the adjacent pirate, she rebutted, “I’ll deliver; don't you fret, matey.” The smile widened, licking her grey lips.
“Walking the plank is my specialty.”
Now, noting the muttering drakes, the scantily clad joker, likewise, murmured subtle hisses and moans; a discordant frequency that fringed upon the same maddening resonance that overcame ninja and sorcerer, moments earlier. Compounding insult with injury polished the prankster’s modus operandi. She delighted in psychic turmoil to those who threatened their festivities.
Suddenly recalling the lore master wizard’s words, she quickly slid down onto the deck, clumsily skating towards the ship's wheel, with utmost icy inconvenience. Nuisance and toil conquered, she stood behind the Lady Slipper’s steering gear. She grabbed the felloe with one glove and the other binding the ten o’clock handle, spindled clockwise its spokes and barrel, upon the axle. She had observed Jill operating her boat, many a juncture, whilst singing vulgar ballads together. Mechanically, the craft’s tiller, tugged by pulleys and sheaves, would angle port-side, forcing the rudder and, hence, the helm starboard, navigating away from the menacing waterspout and hopefully smashing into the dangling stragglers, if they had not fled.
Glancing at her captain, she jokingly jeered.
“Look at me, Jill. I’m the queen of this hussy, now!”
Boots of Speed: 60 feet
1. Koan will use a Bonus Action to give Nemiea a 1d6 Bardic Inspiration die. 2. With her Main Action, Koan Casts and Twins (uses up 3 sorcery points) Dissonant Whispers (Level 2) on both Drakes, for a total of 4d6 at 18 with a WISDOM Saving Throw against a DC of 16. If fails they must move as far as their movement will take, using up their Reaction, until their turn, even if it is underwater. If they pass, then only 9 damage is accrued, with no movement prompted. 3. This will force a Wild Magic Sorcerer Surge with a DC of 2. Koan rolls an 18, with no effect. Wild Magic Surge DC is now + 1, due to not activating Wild Magic. 4. Koan then spends all of her 60 feet of Movement (20 down the mast, then 40 movement due to difficult terrain) to get behind the ship’s wheel. 5. On her next turn, she will try to maneuver the SS Lady Slipper away from the Water Spout and the Thuellia, but into the Drakes 1 and 2, unsure if they will take improvised Bludgeoning damage from the ship itself, every turn. She will likely employ Tides of Chaos, to grant advantage if it requires an ability check.
Ending Position: Directly behind the ship’s wheel.
Temp HP: 4/4 (Shark Skin) HP: 43/43 AC (20): Mage Armor (13) + Cloak of Protection (+1) + DEX Mod (+4) + Shield (+2) Movement: 60 feet climbing and walking under Boots of Speed (9 minutes, 48 seconds left; 6 seconds/turn) Ring of Water Walking Weapon: None Arcane Focus: Diamond Tongue Stud
If only the ship could fly, this'd all be so easy. There'd be no more sea monsters. Storms would be a cinch in comparison. Raiding land settlements and dragon's lairs wouldn't be limited by the coastline. And throwing people overboard would result in much less cruel and inconsistent deaths. It would do better to coat the hull in metal, since a breach in the sky would be far more catastrophic than in the sea. How to keep it in the air with all that weight, however? It would need some very lightweight materials, as well as a strong propulsion system. And what of weaponry? Simple cannon won't do, that's like throwing stones at the clouds! Perhaps harpoons? Yes, giant harpoons capable of tearing through the deck of another vessel from above or a dragon's scaled hide from the flank!
Oh, right. There's a battle going on, isn't there? To be discussed with the captain in the morning, then. Back to business!
Eliza stepped forward, immediately bombarded by the oppressive wintry winds. At least her Wheeling Shoes were deactivated, or else her small form would be battered by the ship itself in this chaotic storm. Her eyes squinted as she stared down her caged beast in the midst of the blizzard, soon lighting up with clarity and recognition. Her spare hand was firmly planted on the railing of the ship as she carefully stepped as closely as she could toward it. "Cease fire! Cease fire!" she bellowed over the raging battle, falling on a couple of deaf or maddened ears.
As she approached the elemental entity, she audibly gulped --or it would be audible if there wasn't an obnoxious threat of death-- but softened her gaze to something more sympathetic. "We're going to calm down, Mister Theullai. We're not trying to hurt you or your home, we were just passing through a storm and swept up into you." she said as diplomatically as she could with yelling.
No mechanical change from before, except she has moved two squares to the East (toward the wolf and the bow of the ship).