Chapter One, Part One - The Voyage of the Jenivere

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TheTick

After the Jenivere's unscheduled stop in Seawell, Captain Kovack was eager to depart and pick up cargo in Magnimar.  You four find yourselves paying for passage, having heard tales of the wealth to be won sailing this route.  Though a merchant vessel, Kovack keeps two compartments available for passengers, and soon enough the first mate is showing you to a room belowdecks, with six bunks and just enough storage for your gear.  There is an identical room which is empty just down the way.

The seas are smooth and the winds favorable, and soon the Jenivere is back on schedule.  Every few days the ship pulls into a port, and shuffles up the cargo.  Kovack seems to know what to buy and sell at each port, and the thieves and pickpockets seem to give him a wide berth.  His crew does, as well, as more than once you see him put one of them to the lash for disobedience.

After a few weeks, the other passenger berths fill up. (check the Player's Guide I linked before for info on all of the passengers/crew)  The other bunks in your room are taken up by Ishirou, a Tian man who seems to be on a search of self-discovery, and Sasha Nevah, a red-headed woman with a missing pinky.  You spend many evenings talking to them, gossiping about the other passengers, especially Ieana.  Some think she's a Chelish spy, others the Captain's secret lover, and a few even think she's exactly what she says, a scholar.  (how boring, says Bigsby, as he passes along the other tales)

When not in port, the Captain hosts a dinner for the officers and passengers (save the prisoner being transported in the brig).  While not Kovack's usual style, his First Mate convinced him of the benefits of comraderie on an earlier voyage, and he had to admit the shared meals did seem to keep the passengers and crew from getting on each other's nerves.

This night, a few days out of Senghor in the Mwangi Expanse, unfolds like most others.  As you file into the makeshift dinner hall, you note that the cook's "soup" smells worse than usual.  The Captain enters late, speaking of storm preparations, and your meal begins.

(at this point you may chat, if you have anything in particular to say, otherwise the soup will arrive soon.  and the fun begins)
Babies, chum: tiny, dimpled, fleshy mirrors of our us-ness, that we parents hurl into the future, like leathery footballs of hope. And you've got to get a good spiral on that baby, or evil will make an interception!

Lotofsnow

#1
The half-orc examines in dismay the human flatware on the board. Despite several of these meals, he still has yet to get used to eating with such utensils. In his homeland, soups are guzzled, not sipped. The remnants are scooped up with hunks of crusty dark bread, not the hard, bug-filled fare of the ship. However, Yiki, in politeness, chooses to forget his civilized manners and eat with a wooden spoon like these shipborn savages.

Despite the lack of proper manners in the captains galley, the soup is quite delicious. The barbarian cannot comprehend the obvious looks of disgust from his fellow passengers. More often than not, he just barely resists the temptation to polish off the bowls of those who could not stomach more than a few sips of the cook's special broth.

Yiki takes his place at his usual seat at the end of the table, opposite the captain. He sniffs greedily at the drifting steam as the cook spoons from the pot into a bowl in front of him, noting the few extra chunks of mystery meat floating in the cloudy broth. Yiki grins at the cook, large tusks, a throwback to his orc ancestry, protruding in vicious delight. The cook responds with a wink.

pooka

Imfei generally finds the rations available on her journeys beyond the forest to be distasteful, if taste were a priority to her.  She only is concerned if there could be poison or dangerous corruption in the soup. 

TheTick

As the meal goes on, each of you eats as much of the soup as you can stomach...and your stomachs seems to be fighting back even worse than usual.  A look around the table seems to confirm the other passengers are having a similar difficulty.

(Roll Fortitude saves)
Babies, chum: tiny, dimpled, fleshy mirrors of our us-ness, that we parents hurl into the future, like leathery footballs of hope. And you've got to get a good spiral on that baby, or evil will make an interception!

Lotofsnow

Yiki gives his stomach a tentative rub.

Rolled 1d20+5 : 17 + 5, total 22

SteveRogers

#5
Bigsby stirs the soup hesitantly and slowly spits out a mouthful, already half swallowed, of the liquid back into the bowl as his stomach begins to burn intensely.

This dice roll has been tampered with!
Rolled 1d20+1 : 9 + 1, total 10

pooka


Sputnik314

It's a very rare case for Taggart to get sick, so he usually isn't used to vomiting.
Curses of the Rhyther! what's going on with my stomach?
Rolled 1d20+1 : 6 + 1, total 7


TheTick

As you all cautiously sip the soup, the twinge in your stomachs quickly moves on to a roiling upset.  Seeing some of the passengers' pale faces around you, with hands over their mouths, you try to get up, to shout, to do something, but your head swims, and everything goes black.

...

Yiki notices three things when he wakes.  First, there's a bright light when he opens his eyes, nearly blinding him until he adjusts.  It's the morning sun.  Second, he's having the worst stomach cramps of his life. (you are all sickened)  And third, something just pinched the hell out of his foot. (-1hp)  Looking down he sees...well, it looks like a cross between a lobster and a scorpion, and it's what just jabbed his foot, testing to see if he's meat.  Yiki reaches reflexively for his weapons, but they aren't there.  Looking around frantically, he spots a pile of his gear about 10 ft away, weapons on top.  The rest of his friends are passed out in the sand as well as some of the other passengers.

(There are two more of these sea scorpions walking amongst you.  You will each wake in descending order of your fortitude saves rolled so Imfei, Bigsby and Taggart will wake over the next three rounds.  Here's the description of the sickened condition.  You may go ahead and all roll your initiative, but only Yiki goes this round.)
Babies, chum: tiny, dimpled, fleshy mirrors of our us-ness, that we parents hurl into the future, like leathery footballs of hope. And you've got to get a good spiral on that baby, or evil will make an interception!

Lotofsnow

"Ugh. Too much rum... What the?!"

Yiki Initiative 1d20+3 : 3 + 3, total 6

SteveRogers


Sputnik314


TheTick

Initiative List: ShowHide
Bigsby - 24 (unconscious)
Sea Scorpion 1 - 16
Imfei - 11
Sea Scorpion 2 - 8
Sea Scorpion 3 - 7
Yiki - 6
Taggart - 3 (unconscious)


Rolled 1d20 : 11, total 11
Rolled 1d20 : 4, total 4
Rolled 1d20 : 3, total 3
Babies, chum: tiny, dimpled, fleshy mirrors of our us-ness, that we parents hurl into the future, like leathery footballs of hope. And you've got to get a good spiral on that baby, or evil will make an interception!

TheTick

(wrong thread myself, but there are the rolls...)

The sea scorpion by Yiki manages to pinch him once, but misses with the second pincer, and most importantly the stinger. (-1hp)  The other two move towards Taggart and Bigsby.  Imfei for her part, groans and opens her eyes.  (Can act next round, but is prone, weapons 10ft away.  Yiki can act now.)
Babies, chum: tiny, dimpled, fleshy mirrors of our us-ness, that we parents hurl into the future, like leathery footballs of hope. And you've got to get a good spiral on that baby, or evil will make an interception!