Part I: Boarding Vengeance

\The sound of shrieking gulls filled the air overhead, as sailors and soldiers heaved upon heavy salt-laden lines in preparation for the journey.

The three-mast schooner, Vengeance II, groaned under the strain of the lines tethering it to the narrow docks at the foot of Brahnzik Keep. Her sails were rising slowly, crisp white and unsullied - a tribute to the well-kept man that stood atop her main deck staring down at the two dozen men who toiled below him.

The Cassidy Bluffs: a towering, impenetrable island that was home to the traders and tradesmen of the northern Empire shores, cast a broad shadow down upon the docks, the flickering torches of Brahnzik Keep visible hundreds of feet above.

Lord Hamus Brahnzik furrowed his brow and turned to address the hardened, blond Brettonian that leaned against the shiprail behind him. He smiled curtly, his deep baritone voice cutting the din of the seabirds above him;

"I thank you again for coming, Artimus. I know it's not been three weeks since we returned from our last sail, but Aureg's divinations have been more vivid than I've ever seen."

Whether Lord Brahnzik was convincing himself or his companion, it was not clear; the past year had entailed seven of the three-week voyages into the stormy Sea of Claws, searching for a destination that was unknown perhaps even to the wizened Lord himself. But it was not the promise of riches or reward that drove Brahnzik to the expensive and dangerous voyages abroad, where Norscan slaver-boats and pirates from the eastlands promoted a constant threat. His prize was unnerving: a manifestation of chaos, secreted away somewhere among the tides and ice of the sea…and the promise of its destruction by his blade.

Lord Brahnzik gripped tightly to the mast, once again casting his view over his men. The divinations of the seer Aureg were leading him north once again, but he did not know what for. A relic, or a site of desecration, or perhaps a great evil that lurked beneath the waves. In his heart, he knew his men were tired and worn from the years of scouring for this source. But he knew also that he could not stop the search, for the hunt of demons and chaos slaked the dark thirst in his heart for vengeance and blood.

The sails had risen, and were luffing in the wind of the early morning sunlight. Clean sheets of white shaded the sailors as they milled about, loading supplies into the cargo holds and coiling rope about the masts. A tall man ascended to the main deck, a long black beard blowing in the wind as he stared out under a wide-brimmed admiral’s hat.

“Lord Brahnzik, we’re set for sail, sire.” Remarked the seasoned captain Aurelik.

“Cut her loose then, and make haste.” responded Lord Brahnzik, walking to the mainstay and gazing out over the Sea of Claws.

=======================

Welcome, gentlemen!

You find yourselves aboard the Vengeance II, the esteemed vessel of Lord Hamus Brahnzik, Lord of the Cassidy Bluffs.

You are all members of his cadre, a warband assembly of men recognized by the Empire as civil guardsmen of the Bluffs...however, your true purpose is the hunting of demons and chaos-tainted for the near-fanatical bloodthirst of Lord Brahnzik.

The Vengeance II holds thirty men, all of whom are sailors and able guardsmen of axe, sword and bow. It is a three-masted, four-decked ship with a galley, a storeroom, and six sleeping chambers, plus a captains quarter and an admiral's grandchamber.

The journey has been undertaken as a result of the divination of Aureg, the half-orcen seer that Lord Brahnzik employs and has come for the voyage. The crewmembers are wary of him, and he is mostly outcast from the group.

You, as a fellowship, are sharing a cabin on the ship. Artimus, Wulfric and Garvan are old friends, however Midnorton and Ryanith are guardsmen that they are familiar with, but do not know too well.

Consider this post an introduction to your character.

-LK

Midnorton stood on deck as he watched the shore move away. The longing in his eyes to his far away home showed he was thinking of his forest. He would often comment to his companions of the forest home he came from. The tall pines and oaks, the leaves that fell during fall, the smell of the forest. Oddly enough he would never mention where the forest was located, not even when asked. So most have learned not to ask.

As Midnorton’s dirty blond hair blew in the sea breeze, he turned to help the crew as he sneezed from the salty air.

“Ugh… bloody seawater…”

He often complained about the sea breeze, showing his clear dislike toward salt water. He then placed his bow down as he helped with the rigging, other crew members thanking him. Midnorton is well liked by most, for he is a charismatic person and has on a few occasions stopped fights and counseled others while at sea with his sweet words alone.

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Midnorton is 5’10” and is lean, weighing about 120 lbs. He wears leather armor. The only weapons on him are a knife sheathed at his belt and the bow he always carries. He has dirty blond hair and green eyes. His skin is a lightly tanned, giving it almost a golden color. He doesn’t seem to get any darker though, regardless how long out in the sea. He is exceptionally handsome with the personality to accompany it.

**If there are any female crewmembers, he will often flirt with them.

Brahnzik’s low voice resounded over the men like a trombone, but Wulfric’s mind was elsewhere; quiet. He gazed over the steel colored sea, into a shuddering, cold horizon.

The ocean was no longer a fantasy to him. Blues he had once dreamt of had greyed. That was the cold hard reality of things now – during the past two years, Brahnzik had made sure of that. Wulfric and Midnorton often sat in their bunks, severing mould from their bread, talking about the Empire woodlands and the meadows that sang lushly with birds and insects and bats from morning until night. They talked and talked until the waves outside lulled them to sleep.

Yet, there he stood again - his back to the bluffs, and his eyes on the sea. Somewhere out there, the Sea of Claws held something dark in its clutches; seeds of Chaos. So even though his bones were weary, and his heart drummed low, he kept on. Miles dawned ahead of him and even though there was no end in sight, his will was unbending. He would go wherever the tide yanked them. He would follow the moon, like an old wolf, lonesome and over-travelled.

As the Vengeance II loosened from the dock, he turned to his companion Artimus and Lord Brahnzik: “Where is Aureg? I wish to speak with him”. Wulfric knew the half-orc was somewhat frowned upon as company, but his curiosity about the milky-eyed seer was undeniable. To Wulfric, the oracle was not a friend, nor foe; he was a star pointing north; a footprint in the snow.

What lay before them now?

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

(original biography from EIB as reference):
Age: 21
Race/Profession: Outlaw
Wulfric was born in a large wooden house, on a property bordering the Empire Cities. He rarely recieved information about nearby towns and cities but was comfortable in his isolation and didn't mind. As a small boy he was very well taken care of. His father was a pocket theif and his mother was a poet. She hated the idea of stealing but had to no other way to support their son. Nonetheless, his parents always remembered his birthday, had plenty of bread, and he learned to read and write and draw and sing. He grew older and became very useful on the plow.
His mother began earning money because the Duke loved her and paid her to speak for him - she resisted his vague type of charm. That September, Wulfric helped his brother build the trellis and soon a huge grapevine stretched along their plot and they talked of plans to open a successful vineyard and make their own way.
But the next September, Wulfric came home from the pub and found his older brother dead in the yard. His mother was in the bathroom; father in the kitchen. Alone in the house, Wulfric greived on floor between fits of anger and decided to leave next morning. He packed up some coins, a few garbs and took off with some biscuits, not knowing who to blame. Bulltrout floated upside down in the creek. He stopped to watch them, about twenty of them - pushing up against the muddy walls of the river. He couldn't drink the water so he had to move toward Marienburg for food, shelter, and news. After two days, the biscuits ran out.

His desperation forced him to rob unsuspecting travelers along the road - one particularly dark night he managed to take a small horse by standing in a tree, tackling the rider and leaving him in the woods. And so Wulfric arrived in Marienburg...

Waterlogged wood grumbled to herald the departure of the schooner from port.

Garvan of marienburg tugged a musty cloak against his body to ward off the morning chill as he clambered up the steps of the vengance. The dim morning light and sharp stench of the sea awoke his senses as he emerged topside.

Around him men shouted, scurrying around the gangway as they fastened down rigging and prepared to entrust their ship to the icy sea of claws.

All around him the virgin ship boasted signs of its lack of battle. She seemed a sturdy vessel though, and the crew had no doubt seen their share of battle. He only hoped that when the time came, as it would sooner than later he was sure, that this rabble would be worth their weight in salt.

Garvan was sporting a large grin as he hung over the ships railing. The sights and sounds emboldened his spirits and he couldnt help but laugh. Another adventure. It was enough to make Garvan feel young again, although the ache in his bones quickly reminded him otherwise. Nearby his companions Wulfric and Artimus Gossiped like a couple sea hawks. He had never had such a fondness for companionship, a trait the other two members of his group shared, but he liked them all the same.

Just boys these lads, he mused as he approached his comrades.

"Well girls. Looks like we make sail again." The wind picked up and pulled at garvans whispy hair.

The rolling boat benath his feet, promise of coin, and thought of adventure was enough to bring another toothy smile to his face.

Fellowship - The 14th of Auguste - 11 AM

The Cassidy Bluffs receded into view as the Vengeance II cut a broad reach away from the docks. The towering island hid the morning sun, a dark silhouette dotted with the far away lantern-lights atop its four-hundred foot plateau. Among those lights, the fellows aboard knew their beds would remain cold for the coming weeks.

[Midnorton]

Midnorton's boots clicked beneath him as he wound his way about the boat, helping where he might. The crew, a motley assembly of war-hardened veterans from every corner of the Old World, moved slowly at their task, for there was no hurry.

"Ehk, Midnor-ten," smiled a familiar, lanky Estalian named Jorgaz, "have a drink, to the Bluffs." The moustached man raised his flask in salute to the plump white clouds above, downing a hefty portion of spiced wine and passing it over to the comely archer. Midnorton noticed, rather pointedly, that it would be an inconsolable amount of time before he would lay eyes on the fairer sex.

[Wulfric]

Wulfric walked past the scene and down the wooded stairs into the boats' hull, where the smell of salt and oak welcomed him among the crowded hallways of sweating sailors. At Artimus' behest he headed for the third storeroom, pushing open the door into the slightly darkened room, the din of the men behind him.

The room had light from only one porthole, and even before noon it was nearly as dark as dusk. A small lantern burned next to a cot that hung between two hooks over an oiled chest, where a frail-looking individual gazed over to him with yellowed eyes.

"Mmmm.." croaked the inhabitant of this makeshift quarters. The smell of herb and wine seemed to stain its very walls. "...What do you desssire of Aureg?"

[Artimus]

The Sea of Claws stretched out to the limits of the mariners' eyes, as wind whipped through Artimus' hair atop the crows nest. The smell of salt-air and the view of azure seas about him gave scale to the great ship as it tore through the modest waves.

Below, he could see Midnorton and Garvan milling about the deck, as Wulfric disappeared into the holds below.

[Garvan]

Waves cut around the boat beneath the fisherman as he hung out over the Vengeance's prow, espying a kingfisher dipping below the hull at the waterline.

He winced suddenly, a suppressed memory dancing at the edge of his mind. Perhaps the nostalgia had brought it on, but he felt his vestments turn into cold drapes as he remembered himself washed out upon the shores of Lotora after the collapse that separated him from his kin two years ago.

Somewhere beyond his vision the same sea broke on the beaches of that place, where he had wandered for two weeks in hypothermia and near-death...

But the sun was shining this day, and as it beamed down upon his face the memory, he decided, would remain distant.

=======================

Ah, welcome welcome welcome, fellows! It is good to write again, with the familiar characters of years past and a new member aboard. Please keep an eye on the Hangman's post for information pertaining to EXP, GDP (golden daemon points), new skills or skill subsets, and other news.

Remember, as we go along, that every post must be CRAP! That means that after the body of your post, put a break

"======="

...And give me a concrete action that your character is taking, along with any skill rolls or other necessary checks.

So:

[You are aboard the Vengeance II as it sails out into open water, with only the musings of the seer to guide her.

The voyage will take some time (left to the roll of the dice, of course), and so the trip is uncertain. Over the months and years and decades of Empire In Blood, there will be times of travel; moments of repose in which you can practice your craft and participate in a variety of activities...many of which will have long-term benefits for your characters and their relationships.

Therefore, whenever there is a Repose post, write what your character busies him/herself with over the course of the journey. I will give you some prompts and facts to work with.

[Repose: Vengeance II]
[Estimated time: 1-3 weeks]

1. There are 30 men on board. You know all of them by name, but not necessarily personally
2. The men aboard are fierce gamblers.
3. Responsibilities include watch duty, scullery duty, swabbing, hull repairs, cargo rationing, etc.

-LK

cards, dice, betting, even the odd early morning knife fight; Such tidings were no stranger to Garvan. A youth spent traversing the streets and intricate waterways of Marienburg had allowed Garvan quite the taste for gambling and whoring. Alas there were no womenfolk aboard the vessel save the gulls, the old fisherman was quite sure he could find some comradery amongst the ships crew.

Although not hired as a deckhand, the waif from Marienburg certainly had his uses aboard a vessel. He had served time with vast merchant fleets and war-faring battle galleys laden with oars. Mates from his past might have jested that Garvan was half fish himself but the truth was he was more comfortable about smaller, single person vessels.

"No bleedin' way I'll be in that nest." He reassured himself.

He had seen men tossed 100ft from the crows nest during bad storms. Otherwise, Garvan was more than happy to help the crew where he was needed.

The vengeance cut a steady path through the sea as Garvan made his way to the ships holds. If he could find a game to pass the time he was sure strong drink would follow suit.



==================================



During the weeks aboard the Vengeance Garvan will drink and gamble in the evenings. In the day he will assist the crew in any way he can as well as partake in some fishing if the winds die down. Maybe even practice some sword work with the lads if things get too dull.

Midnorton smiled at Jorgaz as he took the flask of spirits from him then gave a chuckle. “Yes, to the Bluffs and the fairer sex I’m sure we will all miss in a few days.” He then proceeded to gulp down the spice wine before he handed the flask back to Jorgaz.

As he knew, not many of the crew liked manning the crow’s nest, he prepared to climb the mast to take up watch as the ship left harbor. But before he took that task, he moved around the crew, talking to them as he got the general moral of the crew.

With that done, Midnorton finally climbed the mast and took his place in the crow’s nest. He watched for obvious dangers like other ships, but also more subtle dangers like threats from underwater.

===============

During the travel, Midnorton will take his turn in the crow’s nest and when not in the crow’s nest, he will act like the ship’s councilor and help to keep the crew‘s moral up.

Wasn’t sure if any rolls would be necessary, but I went ahead and did two. Diplomacy and Persuasion for the councilor stuff.

[Roll#1: 4,6,6,2,5 = 23; Diplomacy]
[Roll#2: 5,1,2,3,6 = 17; Persuasion]

[Experience awarded for first post rotation:

+100 EXP per PC]

-LK

Wulfric inhaled and grimaced at the intense smell. Wine bottles littered Aureg's cabin. He waved the smoke away from his face and peered through...

"I hear you are the seer on this voyage"

Wulfric paused and cautiously stood in the doorframe. The others sought distance from the half-orc, but the huntsman only saw value here.

"What is it that you see that I do not?"

Wulfric leaned against the wall and sunk to the floor, sitting vulnerably.

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

Wulfric inquires into the seer's visions and attempts to befriend him as well

The member 'Artimus' has done the following action : Diceroller

'D6' : 5, 1, 3

The Wind wrote:

The member 'Artimus' has done the following action : Diceroller

'D6' : 5, 1, 3

Hey Art, your total Sword skill is 5D+2, so remember that for next time. (you only rolled 3D)

-LK

Fellowship - The 15th of Auguste - 1PM

Wulfric

The huntsman stared into the dark as silence greeted his bequeathal. The yellowed eyes of the seer stared out at him, and suddenly a racking cough filled the room.

"Aureg see the strands of chaos, burning round the Sea of Claws. He see their movements, wrapping round the good folk of this world like a poison filigree."

Aureg stood, the candlelight reflecting off of his mottled skin. He walked unsteadily towards the porthole window, gazing out at the azure expanse.

"It calls to me, you know." he said quietly. "Once I bore de yolk of that great burden upon my neck, the power of corruption drivin me to blood and unclean worship. Evil, horrible things. But great…"

The seer spoke awhile longer, and on Wulfric's visits over the next two weeks Aureg often spoke of his dark past, the details of which he kept close, whether in fear of revealing them or an unpleasant nostalgia for the power he once wielded…

Fellowship

The mariner circled round the fisherman, striking and parrying and riposting upon the deck. Swead beaded down Garvan's face as he struggled to keep up witht he limber Brettonian.

From the dock above, Midnorton watched the action below, sharing a glass of rum with four other sailors that laughed loudly at his jests.Sun cascaded down upon his face, though a chill breeze blew through the air across the Sea of Claws.

[Artimus' mentorship of Garvan means that as long as Artimus has at least one die category more (3D vs. 2D, for example) skill in Swords than Garvan, Garvan can advance the skill with 100 less EXP required.]


=================

Fellowship - The 30th of Auguste - 9 PM



A miserable, rainy drizzle cascaded across the decks of the Vengeance II as she navigated along a deep channel running parallel to a stony escarpment, crowned in thick forestation bathing in the mists of an unfamiliar islet.

The sun had made its retreat behind the rocky island an hour past, and now dark shadows played across the ship in her silence, the sound of waves lapping at her hull.

For a day now, this craggy chain of isles had led them through narrow channels and into forgotten bays, where they were forced to turn back into headwind and continue their way among this strange shipping lane. They had passed a small schooner flying imperial trading flags six hours back, sidling close enough to see the grim faces of the small merchant ship watch them with hands upon blade and pommel, evaluating their threat.

The four fellows of the third cabin paced across the quiet deck with only a handful of sailors, the rest having turned in to their quarters after the staggered evening meal. Lord Brahnzik had not made an appearance for three nights past; the now 15-day journey was evidently grating upon his spirits, and he remained in the admiral's cabin pouring over obsolete traders' maps and sea charts for their unknown destination.

Only three lanterns were lit upon the decks of the Vengeance II, clanging off the masts in the wind as the ship rocked back and forth. As they rounded the forward mast Garvan cast a look at first mate Gehruz, who had relieved the captain earlier in the afternoon. The thin southerner watched off the bow intently, searching for an appropriate bay of rest in the fading daylight, when suddenly his face screwed up into a sour expression.

"Oi!" he shouted to a sailor drinking a bottle of wine off the prow, gazing to port.

"Whats that on Starboar-" the first mate's voice was cut off suddenly as a splintering crack sounded off the starboard hull, followed by a flurry of metallic clinks and the groaning of hullboards. The boat heeled in the impact, curses ringing out across the deck, sailors springing to their feet.

The sound was punctuated by two more splintering thuds to the rear of the boat, and suddenly the ship was alive with the sound of men scurrying about, hatch-doors opening from below as their fellows filtered up from below deck.

"Bloody hell! Where did those come from!" Gehruz's voice was lost in the din as the sound of steel was drawn, Wulfric gazing about to determine the source of the confusion.

His eyes came to rest upon a blackened figure that appeared on the bow, stocky and grizzled, with a great squared jaw and a gleaming scimitar in its hand. Its dark green flesh reflected none of the dusky light that pooled from the lanterns along the floorboards, and it was clad in blackened leathers from throat to knee. A curdled, gurgling scream erupted from its mouth, saliva dripping from huge teeth as another of its ilk appeared behind it.

"Fucking ORCS!" screamed a soldier, and suddenly the sound of steel ringing out amidst cries of surprise and charge deafened the voice.

The fellowship spun around, darkened warriors appearing at the front and rear of the boat under full sail. They stood upon the forward deck, watching as the sailor with the wine bottle stumbled backwards, reaching for a dagger in his boot.

Not twenty feet away, the orc charged forward with four more behind him, and cut the man down where he stood.

====================================

[Black Orc pirates have set upon the boat in a narrow channel skirted by rocky islands. How they've boarded the boat so quickly, and without earlier notice by the crew, is unclear.

The four of you are standing on the forward deck next to Gehruz, who is piloting the boat. The deck itself is approximately 40 feet long, with cargo and barrels lashed to the decking with rope.

Behind you, on the lower and the rear deck the sailors are scurrying about and fighting off the raiders from the rear and side invasions.

In front of you, 5 orcs have clambered over onto the deck, and are wielding scimitars and hand-crossbows. They are approximately 5'4 each, hunched over and clad in boiled black leathers.

NOTE: Orcs are PARRYING melee and DODGING ranged.

Z1 - Forward deck; barrels and crates are lashed to the deck, which is approximately 40 feet long. The forward mast controls the jib.
OCCUPY: 5 black orc pirates, Gehruz (steering the boat), Wulfric, Garvan, Artimus, Midnorton

Z2 - Lower deck; stairs lead down to the lower deck from Z1 and Z3, with access to crews quarters and mess hall (2 entrances). The main mast here controls the mainsail. -2 to-hit penalty for any ranged fire to Z1 or Z3, due to the difference in elevation.
OCCUPY: Crewmembers fighting orcs

Z3 - Rear deck; stairs lead up to the rear deck from Z2, where cargo is stacked high and with a door leading down to the cargo rooms, the admiral and captain's quarters. +2 ranged to-hit bonus to Z2, for elevation.

Midnorton hated himself for not feeling the threat before it struck. But he knew of a way to remedy the guilt was to slay the orcs as quickly as possible. However before he struck out at the orcs, he knew that he needed to protect Gehruz while he steered the ship.

While he drew an arrow for his bow, Midnorton stepped between Gehruz and the orcs before he unleashed an arrow that flew between Wulfric and Artimus and embedded itself with a loud *THUNK* into an orc. The arrow hit with such force, the orc flew backwards off the side of the railing and proceeded with the splashing sound of the dead enemy as it hit the water below.

Midnorton smiled with satisfaction, never liking orcs.

===========

[Midnorton remained in Z1]
[Midnorton is attacking Orc1 with Bow]
[Roll1: 4,3,2,2 (+5 for same zone) = 16 vs. Orc1(dodge5) = HIT!]

[Hit: 2D+2D+2 damage (1,6,6,5) = 20]
[20 damage - Orc1(DR8) = 12 damage]
[Orc1 dies]

[OOC: Ah... that felt like the old Midnorton.

The member 'Artimus' has done the following action : Diceroller

#1 'D6' : 6, 1, 5, 1

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

#2 'D6' : 1, 5, 3, 1

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

#3 'D6' : 6, 2, 4, 1, 4

The air was rife with panic.

Behind him, the song of steel on steel cut through the night. Garvan's mind was blank. He felt as if the world was moving slowly around and he was somehow disconnected from the action around him.

The fisherman steeled his nerves. His knuckles white as they grasped the trident in his hands. He charged his assailants, making a two thrusts. One each at two of the orcs nearest him...

=======================

4D+2D
-1D for attackign twice
3D+2D

#1 'D6': 4, 5, 3, 1, 2 = 15
#2 'D6' : 2, 3, 1, 4, 2= 12

//That makes for two hits?

The member 'Garvan' has done the following action : Diceroller

#1 'D6' : 4, 5, 3, 1, 2

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

#2 'D6' : 2, 3, 1, 4, 2

Fellowship - The 30th of Auguste - 9 PM

Crimson blood spilled out onto the ship deck as the fisherman's trident cut through the orc raiders, dropping them to the floor like mackerel in the Caterwaul.

Gehruz watched the scene unfolding before him, as the Mariner deftly maneuvered himself into position in front of the dire assailants. With a quick signal, the boat suddenly tacked hard in the darkness, the sound of waves cascading around her hull disguising the clang and clatter of blade and bone around them.

The fellowship ducked under the impending jib shift, the last remaining orc caught up in her glorious white embrace as the brute was pushed to the rail and flung overboard with gusto.

[Orc5 failed AGILITY test]
[Orc5 died]

[...]

The fellowship stood strongly, adrenaline pumping through them as they analyzed the scene around them. Four orcs lay dead upon the deck, and the first mate whistled from behind them.

"Gods!" called out Gehruz, the frenzy in his voice apparent. "These bloody pirates came equipped for a merchant ship. Much to their dismay..."

The fighting below had stopped too, and a cry suddenly roused amongst the men as the last remaining black orcs died or fled overboard.

Garvan walked to the edge of the bow, staring down at a small skiff that had been anchored to the Vengeance II by grappling hooks. The pirates had come in dinghy's, not big enough for open sea, he knew...

=====================

Ok fellows, aftermath of combat there. Goodness, those went down quickly. Just a little routine pirate slaughter, I suppose!

EXP for posting: Art, Garv, Mid - 100 XP

EXP for killing orcs [all] (25 XP each x 5 = 125)

Garvan leaned on his trident, the prongs of which marred the now crimson deck of the vegeance.

Lifting his gaze from the Orcish dinghy to peer out across the sea.

"Get a man in that nest!" His grizzled voie rang out.

He was unsure if the Orcs had led their assault from the encroaching islands or they had a ship lurking in the nearby waters. He was sure of one thing, however; Orish stupidity. Whether the Orcs stood no chance or not was no reason to risk being caught unawares a second time.

If the Orcs did indeed have some manner of looted warship nearby they could pose a problem. Being harried up the coast by Orc mauraders would certain slow their progress.

"By God's lad. Near took me head off." He jested at Artimus, patting a hand on his shoulder as he made his way back to the bow of the ship.

==================

Garvan will survery the sea to see if he is able to spot any other dangers.

If unable to locate any and the Vengeance seems to be safe he will assist in looting the corpses, throwing them overboard, and dressing the wounds of any men onbaord that may need medical attention.

Medicine = 3D+2D
'D6' : 1, 5, 2, 1, 2 = 11

Spot = ??

The member 'Garvan' has done the following action : Diceroller

'D6' : 1, 5, 2, 1, 2

Midnorton was satisfied at the crew’s quick and decisive response to the orc surprised raid upon them. But upon the sight of the dinghy, he also knew that there had to be another, larger ship out there.

He remained near the steering, knowing there was better crewmembers with keener eyes to watch out for and warn of any approaching threat from the crow’s nest.

“We should investigate the dinghy too. Perhaps there will be some clue what ship it belongs too.” With that said, Midnorton got some rope and tied it secure before tossing it overboard as he climbed down to investigate the dinghy. He checked for any clear signs of writing or carvings that would reveal its owner…

=================

He searches the dinghy both inside and outside without getting into the water for anything that would give clues to where it came from.

Search: Wit (1D6) + Search (0D6)
[Roll1: 5 ; Search]

The member 'Midnorton' has done the following action : Diceroller

'D6' : 5

The last Orc fell to the ground crushed by swinging timbre . Artimus mocked the motion of ‘tipping the hat’ in thankful recognition of the quick actions taken by the first mate.

While the din of battle, short-lived was clearing the air, Artimus was reliving the sound of jibarm as it met orc-face. What a satisfying noise of caving skull and separating spinal column. Still a fight without a moistened blade was barely a fight at all.



“bien s'en zortir! You may live to zee Capitaine after all, Naut zecond Gehruz! Oh and J’excuze the mezz I’ve left on the boom”

“Ah Garvan, you zhould thank me Mon Ami! The lozz of that head may be an improvement, non? You can’t tell me it haz been doing you many favorz”

Artimus quipped with a smile.

“ C’est domage, I’ve not even broken a zweat, is that all of them?”

The Mariner remarked, looking left and right as he sheathed his foil.

“ Ah yez, Midnorton, if you are to zee to the zkiff of the orc, I will zee what we have ztruck and the extend of that damage. It would be a zhame to zink into theze black waterz. Perhapz we zhould ready the tar Gehruz juzt in caze,*Wink*”



Artimus looked Abreast the point of impact and secured a rope near the location of the suspected damage. He climbed up on the pulpit (railing) and called to his compatriots.


“If I don’t return, turn back, for all iz lozt”

He jested with a wry smirk.
Without another word Artimus zipped down the rope out of sight.



Roll for athletics and inspection

2D =7

1D+1= 4

#1 'D6' : 5, 2

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

#2 'D6' : 3