The jester’s lightning soared through Garnesh's body and he gave out a pained cry as he dropped to his knees. He turned his head towards the jester, a bloodcurdling glare sinking in on her as a primal snarl formed on the barbarian’s lips. Slowly, he got to his feet before lumbering over to Koan, the beholder already in her face but he was angered, enraged even. Like an animal, he snapped his jaw at the jester before a large meaty hand surrounded the poor woman’s neck. It was a tight grip but not enough to properly choke her, despite that he wanted to at the moment.
Then his gaze shifted over to the poor wizard who had been paralyzed and unparalyzed, damaged and over all not looking so great. ”Below decks, now,” he ordered the wizard, before lowering his arm and walking to the stairs, dragging the poor jester along with him.
Once properly below decks he tossed the fool onto the ground and stared at her, it seemed an eternity had passed before he spoke. ”What were you thinking? Do you want to get us all killed?!,” he hissed, snapping his jaws together once more as he stood over his crew mate in a threatening manner. The enchanted axe was still in his hand, still activated with small acidic droplets falling to the floor. With a dragonic hiss, the acidic nature of the axe seemed to have disappeared in an instant, not taking his eyes off of her.
He opened his mouth once more as he put a foot on the woman’s gut, a light green glow emanating from the back of his throat as he threatened to spit acid on her. Yet, he did not, the glow fading away as he withdrew his head and foot from her body. Garnesh would not allow himself to kill someone that was a part of his crew, even if he wanted to. The barbarian knew she had not meant to shoot him in the back with lightning, after all she was not exactly always in the right mind.
”Gain control of yourself or else I will control you myself,” the dragonborn hissed, taking a step back.
It seemed like a bunch of fun and jokes at first. Eliza wasn't very much in the mood for jokes and exchanged a decent number of glares at Koan in the midst of the jesting. But it didn't seem like anything she needed to stop. So, instead of causing a ruckus, Eliza just turned away and started walking to the staircase leading below deck. And then there was an ignition at her feet, causing her to yelp and jump back with pain. Her head whipped back toward the manic bard, an uncharacteristic flare of rage sparking in her eye.
The assailant in her eyes began an incantation. A simple flick of Eliza's left wrist and the effect was counterspelled. But nothing happened. Her body locked itself in place and the wizard realized that the instinctual motion was impossible with her frigid and numb arm. The moment of potential peril was soon ended as Eliza's fellow arcane practitioner released her supernatural shackles.
Gnomes weren't very well known for being temperamental. And like them, Eliza was a level-headed woman. But in this moment, a flash of disgust and anger showed in her face. She had waited for Koan to retaliate or continue, keeping her counterspell at the ready with her working hand. As soon as she saw the magic disperse from Koan's fingertips, Eliza was going to send a spectral palm to forcefully usher the maniac overboard.
But alas, the crowd had grown impatient with the theatrics and began to revolt. Garnesh had already dug his claws into Koan's collar and began dragging the woman off like a fresh kill. An exasperated huff pushed itself out of Eliza's chest as she gave up on her idea of retribution. Resignation washed over her visage as she concentrated on the means of a swift escape, thinking back to the wealth of script within her personally kept vellum pages. The memory of tearing minor rifts through space as a means of transportation graced her mind before she spoke an unintelligible command word. Gibberish, to be exact, but gibberish was all that was necessary to call upon the arcane threads to weave a circular dimension door before her. Eliza stepped into the circle and instantaneously found herself in her private quarters.
Privacy was a well-kept commodity in her eyes, and after these swiftly turning events, Eliza felt it necessary to indulge. A flick of the wrist and a tired sigh lit the candles within her chambers. A spectral hand was summoned before her to reach for the Haversack she donned. The clumsy fingers peeled off the straps of the item before the gnome collapsed backward onto her bed. A dull tunk sounded off as her frozen arm made contact with the wall near the cot. Eliza craned her neck forward to see the Haversack placed in the corner of the room, mentally commanding the mage hand to reach inside the magical pack and retrieve some old college robes of hers. With an awkward mixture of her magical assistant and her own tiny, pink, fleshy digits she wound the robes over her temporarily defunct appendage. With nothing more for it to do, her shimmering blue hand clenched and rapped against the wooded ceiling as forcefully as she could muster. Which is to say that it wasn't at all forceful. The cantrip faded as she closed her eyes, releasing the mental thread that kept the conjuration in play. It was time for a long nap.
Bonus action to use her Lore Master feature Prodigious Memory to replace her prepared Fire Shield with Dimension Door, and a subsequent action to use that spell to teleport below deck. Some Prestidigitation and Mage Hand usage was in play afterward, but nothing that effects anyone else.
Now back in her own mind, a slightly miffed, Nemiea made quick work of scalling down the 20 foot mast and moving closer to the giant Wolf. After listening to its words carefully, amd thankfully avoiding getting struck by any lightning, she decided that it would be worth a shot trying to apologize for the things that had occured. He had only been trying to protect the gate of his home after all. Maybe if she tried speaking to him in one of his own languages? Well, he was a water elemental, which meant her choices were more than likely Aquian or Primordial: Water, both of which she could speak but only one she could understand without assistance. However, before any of this could happen she walked over to Reemes and simply froze his lips shut, as smart as he was... He didnt know how to stay quiet.
Clearing her throat, Nemiea released a slow breath and smiled, "Posheno Bledig, ya shotel bu izvinit'syo zo deystviyo moyego tovarishcho po povodu slabogo shoko, inogda ish polnomoshiyo ushozyat ot nish u privodyon k tomu, shto tol'ko shto proizoshlo. Ya taszhe shotel by izvinit'syo za to, shto on prygnul v takoye bystroye deystviye shtoby napast' no vas tas zhe, kak i ya. Vozmozhno, ya smogu zastavit' svoish tovarishu istselyo yushchiye sposobnosta pomoch' vam s vashimi ranami v kashestve sposoba ispranleniyo. Shto kasabetso vashego zaproso, ya schitayu spranedlivum, shto my predpru nimayem takiye deystviyo dlyo vas posle togo, Sdelali, chtoby navredit' vam i vashim."
The words she spoke to the Bledig came out with ease, her tone even and friendly, if not a bit charming as well. After his words she knew he would not attack them, but she felt the need to make her peace offering regardless. Despite these things however, it was clear that she was extremely annoyed with their Jester, but it seemed that the Dragonborn had opted to take care of it.
Health: 38/72 AC:15
Spell slots
1 0/4 2 1/3 3 0/3 4 0/3 5 0/2
Sorcerer points: 8/10 remain
Shape Water used with @Big Dread's permission to freeze a certain mouthy pirates lips shut for comedic relief of the situation at hand.
The show was positively glorious. Beyond glorious! It was down right wonderful! Reemes had been taken from his stare at the wolf to watch the whole thing unfold. The magic, the illusions, the trapping, the pain, oh, it was just peaches and cream. He was laughing like a complete loon when the situation turned sour. First was the floating Dyn who was grumped up to the greatest degree Reemes had even seen him. He was looking at Koan with all of his terrible eyes and touching her with the dangles he used for hands. Giving her a proper little lecture. Obviously, this was also humor to the mad ghost. He did start to casually walk over as the wolf set itself down and explained the problem with a great deal more control than he would have expected after being struck by lightning.
Reemes was patting his leg and about to speak his own piece to not only the wolf but also the barbarian who had tossed the poor carved up lass to the deck. This was cut thankfully short with a sudden gag of water that quickly turned to ice over his gobber. Reemes jerked his head back in surprise and touched his face feeling the ice that now silenced him. He turned and glared daggers at the horned sorceress who had afflicted him so. He planted one of his hands on his hips and listened to her talk to the wolf. Obviously, they were talking about him. Why else would she want to keep him from speaking? They were over there chatting it up talking all about just how much he was causing problems or something else maybe even more dastardly, like how he almost missed a shot earlier. "Mereph k-trreph Mhp hooret." The pirate said raising his hand and rolling his wrist in gesture at the two of them. "Greh hooreph freph tret?" he asked with a shrug and as he mumble true incoherence through the magical gag.
With all of that said and out in the open. It did feel good to finally have all of that off his chest. Now, back to the situation at hand. The jester on the ground and the drake boy stepping on her. Nemiea could gossip with the over-sized frozen dog all she wanted. the thing hadn't even apologized to his Wet Bitch after all. What did he care if the thing was so rude. Reemes stepped over to the dragonborn and placed his right hand on his shoulder as he drew his pistol with the other hand. He gave Garnesh a completely invisiable smile and nodded to him, "grephta heff gaehhta haph grephnnnn hak." he explained with a simple sigh through his nose as he finished. He looked down at the pinned half-drow and gave her a wink. There, the situation had been defused.
Bledig turned towards the tabaxi, listening to the Primordial tongue offered. "I accept thy apology, Daughter of Felix," he responded in Common, "and thy generous offer. My wounds are not substantial. Our next task is to bring thee through the gate safely, unless thou wishest to continue dealing thyselves harm."
I tell no lie when I say I was overly curious what 'generous offer' Nemmy had made on our behalf, but the prospect of pur ship passing through the gate unscathed was a more pressing matter. The fury of the waterspout still raged on, and I had no doubt at this point that our entering of the aquatic tornado would lead us all to meet Reemes' mistress before our time. With half of the current crew making their way below decks and Shivs following, I worried about what options we had.
"We may not need to take the ship in fully," Jill offered. "I saw you fly down, Bledig. A bit of effort, and some of us could get up there with flight of our own. Or we can try to protect the ship. Anyone have any ideas?"
”Gain control of yourself or else I will control you, myself!”
The green aura soon faded from his draconic lips, as the scent of sulfur and mercury fringed the caboose's space, flavoring an imaginary ringside with hints of aged glory and corrosive perspiration. With no fans to witness or ventilation for that matter, the warrior permitted the mage to arise from the briny floor. He fatefully and faithfully stated the rules of engagement, an ultimatum that the buffon could not simply ignore. Mingling stares commonly emitted from the barbarian, partnering rigor with the fool’s insanity.
Round 1.
However, as the colors of each iris melted into emerald garlands around new slivered pupils, the axe monger beheld a mirrored dragonborn, but of the fairer variety. The female’s natural scales bore a mild faintness, as the acid breathing pirate could discern this was all but foreplay. An illusion filled with slithering locks, batlike wings for ears and interspersed jutting canines from an elongated jaw.
She panted, standing more erect, eager to exact a frisky retribution, once the masquerade was complete.
“I love games! My turn!”
Like a Jack in a Box, the feminine lizard quickly sprung into action. Imaginary clawed fingers soon clutched the nape of her combatant. Then, a breathy kiss closed the gap between each serpentine skull. The lurid smooch on the cheek caught Garnesh off guard.
“Mwah! This is fun!”
The barbarian was more than a little flustered at the sudden peck, so much so that he almost tripped, taking a step backwards. His eyes mechanically wandered up and down the novel habitation of the jester, surveying the outlined curvatures of her body as his mind raced to grasp the situation that had transpired within an instant. He would be lying if he said that he wasn't interested in this new form.
“Aren’t you gonna go?” Koan inquired the big, strong ruffian.
“I, ugh, ho- what?,” questioned the barbarian as he gestured to the fresh reptilian figure.
Round 2!
“Shoot yourself!”
An idiom she plagiarized from Reemes, when he was more than a tad drunk. Ironically, the ghost’s vernacular mastered a particular elegance, when his tongue inebriated itself with several glugs of ale. The finer the alcohol, the sharper the annunciation. The harlequin never deciphered its true meaning, but Calico would always systematically wave his gun and offered this expression when no one else could finish off their drinks.
Straining against the fond flash of memories, faux talons embedded into the musculature surrounding the dragonborn’s cervical spine. Using the vertebrae as a fulcrum and the wager that Garnesh could easily bear her wombless weight, the joker pivoted and swung each of her legs around a neighboring jugular. Hastily, the dangling extremities began to squeeze into a burly scissor, forcing subsequent venous congestion and her rival’s arms to reflexively scratch at the makeshift vise.
“What! Drow’s got your…” Before the half-elf could complete her bitter banter…
Round 3?
The brawny arms of the barbarian locked around the legs of Koan; suddenly, the barbarian bent his knees backwards, proceeding to drop the jester on her head. The action was purely instinctual; no thought entertained the half-elf’s intentions.
With a loud thud, the jester was slammed into the planks of the floor. A sudden suplex, one could even call it that. Garnesh continued to push her off of his neck, with a loud grunt as he brought himself back up, while rubbing his throat with a large palm. Needless to say, the less than intelligent barbarian was confused on the whole situation, its puzzling mark riddling upon his face. Though he could take a guess since he encountered a similar situation before, just without the face hopping.
“If you wanted to do those types of things, warn me first!,” gasped the muscular dragonborn, now turning to the jester.
Round 4…
“Nice one,” the clown muttered to the Bloodthirsty, while caressing her temple. “But you started it!”
Boots took flight as the tumbler bowled behind her fellow wrestler. Jumping up with each elbow hooked under an armpit, forearms snaked around to consign the hissing lizard to a Full-Nelson. Due to the breadth and height of her opponent, gravity lost its jurisdiction as the barbarian writhed and wiggled, attempting to liberate himself of this pesky, irksome woman.
Round 5!!!
Garnesh grew weary of the half-wit attempting to tax him, anger taking control of his actions as he clenched the arms of Koan. Pulling her extremities away, the barbarian drew the jester in front of him and nippily slammed her face first into the ground, again, pinning her. He snarled and growled, as he took control of Koan just as he promised, grasping one of her thighs and the back of her neck. He bent her, challenging the laxity of her joints.
“Are you done?,” the enraged barbarian questioned with a snarl, wishing this activity to be over.
The prankster squeaked a sweaty tirade, “Pishah! That’s all you got!”
Round 6
With another growl, Garnesh would test Koan’s flexibility further as he arranged her body into a triple fold. He felt that he had ensured that she would not get out of the position, so he released her. The spar, however, made him feel invigorated. A sadistic smile appeared on his face as he felt victory; thus, he returned to his feet and let out a hearty laugh.
“I believe I won,” the barbarian mocked.
The freaky finale.
Whispers from his defeated adversary filled the room, beckoning the barbarian back closer, as the jester’s fingers eventually clutched a pull string within her sutured scar. The umbilicus slowly disentangled, dehiscing the abdomen and revealing a brilliant rainbow of colors that permeated the lower deck’s room as her six-pack unraveled. Curious, the dragonborn could hear feeble sounds of music, normally gleaned above a crib or within a nursery.
“That’s better. At least I can breathe now. Okay. You got me! I want to show you something special, mate. Consider it a consolation,” joked the spider to the fly.
As the awestruck reptile approached the mangled mime, mesmerized by the spinning, dazzling innards, within the belly of the contortionist, a tiny mobile, for a child that never existed, dangled and rotated faster and faster, above the omentum. Its hypnotizing patterns drew the barbarian closer, captivating the warrior into a gradual crouch, with an ear fascinated to distinctly grasp the melody riveting the room.
Abruptly, an immense vacuum triggered, sucking and imbibing his head within the corpus of the fool. Before, he could react, blindness and light surrounded the senses of Garnesh, as flesh mended around his throat, trapping eyes, ears and mouth inside the capacitant abdomen of the gymnast.
His muted gasps gradually broke the suffocating haze.
“What the…”
Standing and hopefully stepping in the direction of the crow’s nest, the draconic soldier flailed about his surroundings until the caboose’s exit was established. Flinging the door wide open, the form of the barbarian with a half-elf for a head ran onto the deck, muffled screams and all.
The elvish comic squirmed in pain, pregnant with the skull filled with acidic salivary glands. Noting the Beholder witness their parade on stage, Koan, for a brief moment, suffered from butterflies of fear. Though her larks, renowned for being unpredictable, easily stirred Dyn to an inferno of anger, his furious tentacles of ire possessed minds of their own, constantly threatening invasive danger. Mumbling arcane semantics, the physique of the observed monstrosity birthed the dragonborn with an audible poof, liberating the couple from their ecstatic union all thanks to the wild magic engulfing the hideous jester, as she magically vanished and reappeared upon the Crow's Nest.
There remained no doubt that nothing remotely erotic would ever happen between the two in the future.
Time to get touchy and feely! Above is a super collab between @Lauder and @Gordian Nought.
Who will win? Garnesh’s Passive Athletics of 19 or Koan’s Passive Acrobatics of 22. Best of 7.
Koan uses a Sorcery Point to Quicken her at-will Disguise Self. This forces a Wild Mage Surge roll against a DC of 2. She rolls a 15.This increases the DC + 1 for the next Wild Magic Roll.
Koan grabs Garnesh’s head and forces a large kiss on the cheek due to the following...
While gripping the back of Garnesh’s neck, Koan whips both her lower extremities around his neck, completes a scissor leg lock around his neck, due to the following…
Koan barely passes with a 19, against Garnesh’s 18.
To Garnesh!
Watch out, watch out, watch out! RKO OUTTA NOWHERE! Garnesh suplexes the shit of Koan like the absolute boss that he is.
Koan supremely loses with a 12 against Garnesh’s 27.
Point to the crazy lady!
Koan recovers and employs Tumbing Fool (Bonus Action: Dash and Disengage) behind Garnesh while each are standing and attempts a Full-Nelson.
Koan barely pulls it off with a 25 while Garnesh resists with 23.
Garnesh activates RAGE and crushes the competition.
Garnesh, barely getting a grip on the jester, manages to bring Koan in front of himself and proceeds to contort her backward.
Koan activates Tides of Chaos before the following rolls:
Koan loses with a 9 against Garnesh’s (obviously should've won here - signed Lauder) 23.
BUT WAIT!!!
By pure luck, Koan rolls a horrific 27 against Garnesh’s mighty 26.
Koan pursues the following.
Free Interact Object: Undoes sutures on abdomen, by pulling a camouflaged pull string.
Action: Grapples head of Garnesh, which is lying on her abdomen to pin her, and puts it inside her abdomen above the pubic symphysis but below the xyphoid process.
Bonus Action: Using a Sorcery Point, Koan Quickens the cantrip Mending to close the flayed abdomen around the barbarian’s neck.
Garnesh runs them both above deck for all to see. Koan, fearing Dyn, casts Reduce on Garnesh, but it fails as he makes his CON save with a 24.
Wild Magic Surge roll, succeeds with a natural 20.
The DM triggers Wild Magic anyway and the 1d100 roll ends at 29, which frees the duo, as she teleports to the Crow's Nest.
Garnesh is still under rage. Koan is prone in the Crow's Nest.
Diplomacy seemed to have taken a supporting role to pure insanity. Things did needed to be put somewhat straight. The frozen mouthed pirate loved a good laugh and jingle but this was just starting to go off the rails with the negotiations of the massive wolf-thing on the ship. To the horrible thing's credit it had taken all of this in stride, even the lightning bolt. It was more than Reemes could have said for himself. If someone struck him with a lightning bolt, and, he was still on this side of the Locker afterward, he would fill them so full of holes you could use them to strain your pasta. Well, when Calico Reemes needed to restore some sense to the situation you knew it was something strange.
Reemes reached up with the pistol in his hand as the pair came running out from below deck and smashed it into the ice over his mouth. The ice shattered and his lips started bleeding but that was all fine. He would have it looked at along with all the other chills he had later. "Keep talkin' kullie, yer doin' grand." he said to Nemiea as he sprung into action.
He saw Dyn trying to offer some assistance in the form of magic, but, Reemes knew this was not a time for magic. It was the time of the loud noises and gunpowder. The spell was not terribly effective but the jester suddenly teleported away. He saw a disturbance of the snow on the ship from the crow's nest and knew his next target once the dragonborn was under control. Reemes ran up to the lizardman and shot a round off right next to his head, givin' the ole 'Blast in yer Ear' trick. As soon as he shot by one side of the barbarian's head he leaned toward the other ear and shouted, "Ge'cherself under control y'obsidyen corkgrit!" Before leaning back with his arms out and gesturing to the guardian with a look on his face that said 'Not in front of the guests.'
"Yeah? See?" he said nodding his head for confirmation from the powerful barbarian. Worst that would happen is the beastie would be on him next. That would be for the best though. Of all the members of the crew Reemes was the closest to the immense dragonborn's strength. That, and, he was the only one that death no longer held any mystery for. He'd died plenty. Never with his neck twisted around by a dragonborn but there was a first time for everything if it went poorly.
Calico Remes, as the voice of reason, tries to calm the dragonborn by discharging a weapon right next to his head and yelling at him. He them gives him the disappointed mother's gaze and hopes for the best with a persuasion roll of 16.
More than happy to leave the rest of the situation with the jester to the hands of the equally fuming dragonborn, Dyn remained on the deck near Jill and Eliza. Or, after a mere moment only Jill remained as Eliza shifted away from the storm outside. While he could not be sure whether she had gone to the caboose which he personally would have preferred in a situation like this, she had still retreated to a safer location for the time being. Good. A minion without their abilities would have been nothing but a burden.
Now that that was over and done with, Dyn listened to the conversation between the wolf thing and the rest. He did not understand a word of what was stated by the Tabaxi, something that unnerved him greatly. What sort of promises were being made? However, it seemed as if there had been nothing too important as the discussion proceeded to moving their vessel into the world beyond the waterspout. The Beholder assessed the situation, taking a moment to think. Soon after Jill's words, he turned to to the de jure captain of the ship and shared an idea his mind had formed: "What if I were to form a spiral of water from that spout to help the ship up? Shouldn't break it apart like so..."
Jill looked to the waterspout, then back to Dyn, then back to the waterspout. "Are you sure you can do it?" she asked with a slight look of worry on her face. Her voice was low so that none would hear her question the potency of the mighty Dyn. "I mean, not that I doubt your magic, but the lives of everyone on this ship depend on it."
A grimace spread across the Beholder's alien features as he held back his loathing towards somebody belittling his capabilities. Soon enough he was capable of opening his mouth without straying from the subject at hand as he confidently declared: "Would you doubt a Beholder, an inherently magical being, known for their superiority and intelligence? If I were not able to do so, I would not even bother saying it. I am not one to babble."
"As I expected," Jill replied. "Make your preparations, and let me know when you are ready. I hope you won't think poorly of me if I make preparations just in case. Not that I doubt you, but it is possible that the wolf turn on us at the worst moment. You wouldn't want us to be defenseless without our Beholder to assist us, right?"
Dyn tilted his floating body back and forth in a gesture that resembled a nod, ceasing his concentration on his earlier spell in the meantime. The tentacles vanished from the side of the ship, making it possible for the Bladesinger to practice one of the more taxing abilities he had learnt during his studies. "No, I do not believe that to be a desirable outcome. I am ready as soon as we get the course set. Turn ship to port, so that we'd narrowly hit the spout on the starboard side. I am ready whenever." With that said, he began to float towards the front of the ship where he would have the best view of his target.
The prow of the ship turned back towards the waterspout, the wizard gathering the energy he would need to for the following feat of magical might. The events on the deck behind him, Koan returning as a hood ornament on the cranium of the dragonborn that had carried her inside now carrying her back out and so forth going unnoticed. Probably for the best of everyone, since that would surely have put a damper on the Beholder's focused mood.
As soon as the ship entered the range he knew his might would reach, Dyn'yer'zhead bellowed over the howling wind and rain: "Behold, peasants! Quake, the very elements! My command transcends the might of the elemental plane itself! See the water twist before me as reality itself bows to my whim!" Now being done with his starting speech, Dyn stated the magical words that assumed the control he sought while his gem decorated eyepatch shined as his arcane might was driven through it.
And lo and behold, nature obeyed. From the side of the waterspout, an upward travelling slide of water as wide as the ship split apart from the pillar of water, carrying the ship upward as faster than it had travelled on the surface of the sea itself. Dyn laughed his horrible laughter as their journey brought them closer and closer to their new destination. "Ahahahahhaaaah! I ascend!"
Dyn expends the remaining two (2) of his 4th level slots to cast Control Water, turning the waterspout into a water escalator that carries the ship all the way to the portal.
HP:42/62 AC:16 Bladesong inactive, 1 use left Concentrating on: Control Water, for as long as the journey takes Slots/expended: 4/1 1st 3/0 2nd 3/1 3rd 3/3 4th 2/1 5th
When our Dragonborn and Jester arrived again on the deck, Bledig sighed heavily. Bidding us adieu, he turned and flew towards tge Mirror Sea with great haste as if he feared another lightning strike was imminent. We had been left to determine our own fate and passage through the Gate.
Thankfully, we had a Beholder.
At Dyn's suggestion and after I explained the situation and the plan, the crew donned a momentary serious posture as the gravity sunk in. One wrong move, and we could plummet hundreds of feet to our doom. On the other hand, gold and glory likely would be our reward for solving this trouble. We never were a group to shirk from extraordinary feats of daring, so climbing up the side of a waterspout was kust another day for us.
Despite my crew's impeccable courage, I admit I felt a little odd about steering my ship into the swirling mass of wind, water, and destruction, but my faith in Dyn was as unyielding as my crew's faith in me. They each performed their tasks admirably as we approached the edge of the Gate, its massive spray of aquatic death towering over us. I gave Dyn the word and he harnessed the greatest ride that nature ever created, sending us shooting skyward at a great clip. Cheers could be heard from much of my crew, but I held my hand steady on the till. One could never know when danger might strike.
About halfway up the spout, the strangest feeling overtook us as we felt suspended for a moment, caught between the seaward pull of gravity and a similar feeling skyward. Dyn immediately recognized the danger and the bost rotated until we were looking up at the Material Plane. We passed through the Gate, now heading "down" towards the Mirror Sea. A glance up at our previous location shewed an unsettling view: our sea, once turbulent and vicious, now appeared as a low cloud cover, the same hue and texture that one would expect ob a stormt day. It truly looked like the Skysea that Bledig had mentioned before.
We descended slowly until we came to rest on the surface of the Mirror Sea. Bledig awaited us, along with a full complement of coral drakes. He welcomed us graciously as the drakes watched for any response from us. We were now guests in the Plane of Water.
Nemiea remained where she had been standing once her talk with the Giant Wolf had ended, mostly amused due to Dyn's strangeness when it came to his spell working. "Color me impressed," she told the Beholder, her usually silver hair now a startling red in contrast to her fur, it seemed she had decided it was time for a color change. Out of all the abilities she had, she adored her Prestidigitation ability, it allowed her some fun when she was bored, especially when she got away with recoloring one of the Beholder's Tentacles... usually gold. It was amusing when he knew something was different, yet was unable to truly tell what it was that made it so, though he wasn't Entirely pleased when he found out what had happened. "Looks like we made it through safely, and that Bledig has a posse... wonder if I could pet him if I focused some heat onto my hand first..."
Bored, and wanting a companion other than those on the ship with her, the Sabered Tigress reached into a grey bag on her hip and pulled out a fuzzy looking ball. With a gentle motion, she placed it about five feet in front of her and smiled at the Badger before crouching down and aimlessly playing with the creature. "So now that we are here, where do we begin to look for this man who clearly needs to be taught a lesson?" she questioned, looking up from her temporary pet and allowing her eyes to dance over her companions before they landed once more on the Gatekeeper who had allowed them safe passage. The sooner she could start acting upon the agreement, the happier she would be even if she didn't get to break some legs... or arms.
Health: 38/72 AC:15
Spell slots
1 0/4 2 1/3 3 0/3 4 0/3 5 0/2
Sorcerer points: 8/10 remain
Utilized Cantrip to change color of hair Utilized Grey Bag of Tricks because bored and I wanted an animal to play with for now.
The ship touched down on the sea that had just a moment ago been in the sky. As soon as the fine vessel was far enough from the waterspout as to not be crushed by the water once it was left to its own devices, the Beholder known as Dyn'yer'zhead finally released his concentration and the spout returned to the form it had been in before his tampering. He smiled, but did not speak. While he would never admit it out loud, that had been just a little bit on the exhausting side.
The appearance of the now suddenly red Tabaxi snapped him out of it, and Dyn was quickly back to his usual self. "But not surprised, I reckon? We've been travelling together for a while Nemiea", he replied to her compliment, as dismissive as ever. Beneath his exterior, he was pleased to receive praise for his efforts though. What would a Beholder be if not a giant balloon of ego with an exterior full of eyes?
Dyn glanced at the theullai out of the corners of a few of his eyes, an uneasy expression appearing on his alien features. "I don't like this one bit. Who is to say it won't attack us now?" he murmured, but kept it mostly to himself. Things had gone well enough until now, even if he did get a little bit blinded by his own might as he had realised how they could reach this realm. It was likely not an ambush. The wolf would have attacked them on the deck when their guards were down if it had wanted to harm them. Or perhaps it had wanted all these serpents to aid it so it wouldn't risk dying to a fluke attack when out there alone? Dyn ground his teeth together, unsure whether to remain pleased or raise his guard again.
Upon the Crow’s Nest, playful vertigo consumed the jester, as she attempted to spike needle and thread, along the sagittal scar, reassembling its constitution. The filth within the cavity mystically disappeared instantly, while the insane fool sutured her umbilicus once more. The SS Lady Slipper acrobatically pirouetted from the now material heaven to the planar deep, all thanks to a many-eyed wizard while the captain maneuvered through the Gate. Within this happenstance, the clown took advantage of the moment, jumping mid-air, allowing gravity to make up its mind.
She hailed the ghost, the Beholder, and the saber Tabaxi, while the disgusted dragonborn, ascended into lower quarters. Diving towards the festooned floor, a tuck and roll tapered the impact, as the black and red ragged comedian tumbled to her feet, amidst the trio.
“Sorry, Garnesh. Better luck next round.” Motioning a thumb behind a concealing palm, she pressed a whisper further to Nemiea, before quickly becoming distracted by the sleek current of the Theullai’s home. “He can be a sore loser. Hmmm. Wow! It’s f$!#ing beautiful!”
Mesmerized, Koan frolicked to the edge of the vessel’s port.
“Amazing! An ocean without tide. Under current and wave. Above a bottomless abyss.”
Hymns and ballads materialized from the awkward comic as she weaved a melodious tale for the crew.
“Few in the Fated Depths realize that the very existence of their realms are indebted to the valiant strivings of one woman. Though the Lord of Battles elevated her status to godhood for her wit and valor; even some of her clerics remained ignorant of the glory earnt during the world-torn Spellplague while troubles raged.”
Restraining her desire to conjure illusionary props in front of the Bladesinger, she continued on with her belting.
“With magic flailing wild or falling utterly, it endured as a reliable stint of sword. A stretch when brigands ran rampant, feuds demanded redress, and tyrants indulged their vices. Law, order, and peace reigned in few places, but in the small locales where such ideals did hold sway, they were staunchly defended by folk we revere now as the true heroes of the planes. She whom we now distinguish as the Crimson Bard was one such champion. Leading her small company, she sailed over and from the Pale River to defend our people against undead pirates and beasts more dastardly than you, Dyn.”
The feminine buffoon took a pinkie and wiggled before those amassed on deck.
“These raiders poured forth from the Seas of Stife, seeking to butcher and despoil. Most sages now agree that the awakened evil in ruined Murh Rhuun, erupted with all the crazed savagery of the Fell nature and imbuing nearby creatures with a desire to defile and rifle. Band after band of behemoths rushed forth, undisciplined yet compelled to venture together even though their disparate natures would have normally triggered mutiny on each other or, worse, scatter.”
The crafty joker jumped onto Calico’s back, piggying momentarily, spilling off further deception.
“But the Blood Poet lingered against them, deadly and seemingly tireless. She took little respite, in fact, Boltborn of Tumesce attests that, when the mortal flesh demanded frailty, she literally meditated in her saddle, leashed to its high cantles.”
Leaping off and twirling, she skidded on her knees, in dramatic fashion, steaming more duplicity.
“Time and again her troupe rallied elementals to stand against more organized monsters and ravagers. The rhythmester composed masterful dirges with her doss lute as mightily as the strongest warrior could wield his blade, yet she remained ever calm and always keen, scheming where next to take her loyal and determined militia. Her followers were continuously outnumbered by the marauders spewing out from the Wheel’s dirth, yet they always emerged victorious.”
Closing her eyes, while raising one fist to her heart-felt chest, she spindled one last ruse before completing her song of rest.
“Our realms still exist because of her brilliant leadership and their sacrificial bravery.”
Prestidigitation was used to clean her internal cavity.
Koan jumps off the mast, while Dyn was actively rotating the ship, and activates Tumbling Fool, halvening the damage from a fall of 20 feet of 2d6/10 feet for 3 damage. She tumbles with a passive Arobatics of 22 and Athletics of 18, to her feet.
Her tuneful story is actually attempting a Song of Rest, centered around Calico, Dyn, and Nemiea. She rolls Deception at a 20.
She jumps onto Calico’s back with a grappling (Athletics) check of 26.
She ends her song while kneeling (prone position).
HP: 40/43 AC (20): Mage Armor (13) + Cloak of Protection (+1) + DEX Mod (+4) + Shield (+2) Weapon: None Arcane Focus: Diamond Tongue Stud Concentrating: No longer on Dancing Lights and now on Hold Person Bardic Inspiration (1/3 used)
Sorcerer Points (1/4 used)
Slots: Warlock First Level (2/2 used) To convert to Sorcery Points previously
Spell Caster Level = Sorcerer (4) + Bard (3) + Rogue (0) = Seventh Level First Level (0/4 used) Second Level (1/3 used) on Hold Person Third Level (0/3 used) Fourth Level (1/1 used) on Heroism
As conversations and sulking carried on aboard the ship, waves ceased to crash against the bow. After a while, people started to notice one after another that the sky all around them was false. There was no horizon, as for miles outward the air became the sea. It was disorienting, most of the crew and the party watched agape as the air seemed to shift and churn at the edges of an invisible sphere all around them for miles. As people began to peer past their immediate vicinities, they found that the area was barren and empty aside from the gate and its guardian, encapsulated in an endless ocean. Except for a lone, small, wooden boat drifting straight toward them.
The keener members of the crew would be able to pick out yelling as the brown dot slowly became the shape of a tiny paddleboat. They didn’t seem like cries for help, or even demands for surrender, they mostly seemed like arguing.
“Yoo daft bastard, of course they’re alright. Yoo think anyone with a mind to harm us would fall from the sky li’that? I seen meself pirates with better manners than yoo lizard-britches.” A gruff voice, vaguely feminine, broke through the waves easily.
“I have plenty of manners, thank you. Plus it isn't a matter of they will harm us or not, it's if they can be trusted, and you know I don't trust easy,” a lighter, voice stated, granted almost inaudible to those aboard the much larger ship.
“Yer a wee paranoid for a psycho-whatsit, ain’t yoo?”
“Please do not bring my powers into this.”
“Yer just up to high doh.”
“I am perfectly calm, you were the one practically shouting at the top of your lungs,” the lighter voice commented in a more annoyed tone.
“Maybe cause it’s friggin’ baltic here and I’ve not had any food in who knows how long?” The stronger voice seemed equally if not more impatient at this point.
“Why is drunk you so much better to be around?”
“I’m a dwarf, a fighter and a sailor. Get used to it.”
“I could actually choke you right now,” grumbled the lighter voice, “I give in, we’ll go along with what you want to. If we die though, I’m shifting all the blame on you.”
“Yer the one that kept me alive this long, lass.” As she said that, a thunk sounded off their arrival as the dingy collided with the comparatively gigantic vessel behind the surly dwarf. “Oi!” she yelled out to anyone that cared to hear, “Yoo got rope to spare, aye? Be a charitable soul and toss a line or two so we can parley!”
“You know I can fly and float you up there, right?”
“We ain’t boardin’ a ship that ain’t ours, what kind of manners are those?” She turned and yelled up over the ship, “Yer sure takin’ yer time up there!”
“Maybe they're dead,” the other commented, looking up the side of the ship.
The gruff woman made a tsk, tsk noise. “Then we’ll have to see, won’t we?”
“But then we would have to be rude and board the ship,” the lighter voice jibed.
“I know yer young, but yoo can be a little patient, aye?”
A short pause in the noise before an answer came, “Nah.”
Dyn listened to Koan tell her story, appreciating the fact she did not needlessly pollute the air near him with weak magic. Her usage of it both annoyed him and made his magic discerning eyes hurt. The story told by the trickster did little to convince him: By this point he had chosen not to trust anything coming out of the trickster's mouth, especially not when it included anything being better than him in any way. Even when it came to being dastardly. There was no creature out there better than a Beholder and he was the epitome of them.
"Hrrrrmmmm... I don't believe you", Dyn declared, a surprise to nobody to be sure. "First of all, you are assuming superiority over something that cannot be trumped. My other point would be that I have not heard of this story before. Any fight of that magnitude would be part of my knowledge. And it isn't." He turned to the rest of the crew around him. "Take what was told with a barrel of salt." He floated away from the trickster, allowing her to keep entertaining those that found themselves drawn to her lies. Even fools needed their fun to keep them content. An unhappy minion made for a disobedient minion.
However, from amidst the drakes emerged a small dinghy, housing two voices the bellowed at those on the deck of the bigger vessel. "Now what in the..." Dyn muttered as they called for a rope to be flung down to them. Really? Just throw a rope at everyone that arrived at the side of their boat. Suuuuure. The beholder peered over the side of the ship, staring at the dwarf and the kobold in the boat. Well, that was something that he had not been expecting to be fair. His eyes darted between the newcomers, the drakes, the wolf, anyone who would appear by his side... well, it was just confusing for anyone with a lesser amount of eyes so lets not get any deeper into that. The most important thing that he did was that he yelled out of the corner of his mouth: "Hey, Jill! Freeloaders on starboard!"
Dyn'yer'zhead uses a Help action to help anyone willing in the vicinity to discern Koan's tale as the fabrication it is. Beyond that, he simply announces to the others (Jill especially) where the little boat with the fresh swaps to the party have appeared.
Jill approached the gunwhales and peered over the edge. "Hello, 'freeloaders.' Don't worry: our Beholder friend doesn't like many people he first meets." Jill mptioned Koan over. "Could you toss them a line? I'm sure if they do anything hostile, Dyn could take them out with ten eyestalks tied behind his back."
She turned back to Bledig, hoping the Jester was doing her bidding. "I assume these two had nothing to do with your predicament. Their lives must mean little to you, but if you could spare them, I will take responsibility for their actions henceforth." Seeing a curt nod from the elemental, she continued. "Now that we are here, we intend to investigate your Marid problem. Just point us in the right direction."
The theullai chuckled. "Thy eagerness speaks of ignorance, Daughter of Michael. Finding thy quarry will be half the effort. He hideth himself in the caverns beneath the Verdant Stream. I must stay and guard the gate, but I can send a scout as far as the Merish village. There, thou mayest find more answers thou dost seek."
“We have visitors!?!?! I’m so excited!!! YIPPEEE!!!!!”
Rolling from the tantalizing seiza position into a giddy walk over, she threw caution and several pump fists to the wind, all haphazardly in front of Dyn, transforming into one belonging to a race of fairer skin, with symmetric gridlike tattoos and an etched labyrinthine scalp maze, of a distinguished, but unrecognizable Kor warrior. With the proper voice and attire, a girl could become anyone to everyone. This could be the perfect opportunity to be someone else with a new audience and the accompanying anticipated acceptance, and Koan could not pass this potential prank up.
Deepening her feminine accent, she heralded the two distinct voices on the port side, while clicking her heels, prancing closer to their proximity.
“Ahoy! Hold your dragons! I’ll take care of y'all!”
Peering over the starboard’s edge and noting the heights and scales/skin of their new guests, she generated a face-down neon sign, which read, from below, her programmed crimson greeting, simultaneously in Dwarvish, Draconic and Common.
“Welcome to the SS Lady Slipper. We are not responsible for death or loss property. Basement and Beholder off-limits.”
Dashing, tumbling and pirouetting about the deck, she loosed two ropes fastened to an unimportant mast and secured each with a figure eight upon the Mizzen. Once both nooses were anchored, the Jester back flipped across to the ship’s side and tossed the lines overboard to the rafted couple. Once the cables unraveled completely, the fool whispered a few words and soon blades of light twirled along the cords, glistening with vivid scarlet in efforts to direct the boarders above. The threaded and staggered luminosities provided the proper ambiance for an exquisite red carpet entrance, to all who gazed.
The clown nervously laughed and shouted to those upon the waves, while clanging her boots off once more. “Come here often?”
She just hoped the many-eyed Bladesinger wasn’t looming and peeking over her shoulder. Gulp.
Using her Hat of Disguise, Koan transformed into a Kor warrior.
Using a Level 1 spell forced a Wild Mage Roll against a DC of 3, to which she rolled an 11. Phew!
Koan clicks her heels to activate the Boots of Speed in addition to Tumbling Fool, which allows her to Dash and Disengage as a Bonus Action. She then utilizes Minor Illusion to change her voice and construct a linguistic welcoming sign, as she is fluent in all three languages.
After the rope is knotted and tossed overboard, Koan uses Dancing Lights as a cantrip to illuminate the path for the dwarf and kobold.
She clicks her heels again to deactivate the Boots of Speed while staring eagerly at the two as they attempt their climb.
Slots: Warlock First Level (2/2) used on Sorcerer Points
Caster Level = Sorcerer (4) + Bard (3) + Rogue (0) = Seventh Level First Level (0/4 used) Second Level (1/3) used on Hold Person Third Level (0/3 used) Fourth Level (1/1) used on Heroism
Dyn'yer'zhead slowly floated away from the edge, leaving the matter to be handled by the captain. If she really wanted to pick up just about anyone from the sea, he would not question her choice. But just in case they might be a threat, Dyn was already going through a few plans of his own on getting them to leave the ship and its crew well and truly alone. It would not be a surprise to find out he defaulted to using magically enhanced violence. And even if those two were casters, he had Counterspell and Dispel Magic ready to go. However, it was evident that nobody else was really considering this to be an option.
Jill choosing Koan to receive the newcomers caused Dyn to blow some air from his maw, creating a sound that distantly reminded one of a chuckle. If the first person those two newcomers were to face was that jester, he had no envy for them. And knowing Koan's usual shenanigans, he simply chose to ignore what would transpire in the coming moments. Even in the best case scenario, he'd get a headache out of the trickster's much too flashy use of magic.
Instead, he mulled over future plans in his mind. So, next up they would be getting to a city from where they would gain more information about the marid that had been chosen as their next mark for whatever reason. Really, Jill had not discussed any rewards, seemingly willing to do this out of the sheer will of getting a grand story out of it. A commendable quality for a minion, but in leadership it was perhaps a little bit off. But that's why Dyn was here. While remaining ready to strike if the freeloaders were to present themselves as a threat, Dyn began writing a shopping list in his head. There were things he'd need to gather when they got to civilisation.
Nemiea pretty much ignored both the jester and the newcomers as she continued to play with the badger she had pulled from her bag. Sure she should be worrying about what they would be bringing to the 'table' so to speak, but she had no real want to interact with anyone after everything that had just happenes. Instead, the Saber Tabaxi just amused herself with little things, until she heard Dyn let out a puff of air. "Whats got your tentacles in a twist?" she asked the beholder as she stood up and walked over to him, the way she walked always seemed to look like she would start dancing at any moment, "I wonder what is goong to happen with these newcomers coming onto the ship, what are we going to if they decide to attack us? I am sure killing them would work just fine but it would be messy and annoying." @Hekazu
Oh this had really been something. The ship flying through the air and the jester being, well, herself. Whatever tale she told was bollocks and a half but Reemes liked it anyway. the best part of any good story was how much of it was complete nonsense. You didn't tell a good tale without some embellishment and having a bit of fun with it. He admired that in her. She was always willing to turn the disbelief up a few notches for good effect.
Of course, there were other things to consider right now. There were rowers and boaters. They were being taken on board and probably not as slaves, too bad. You could really make some good money with slaves and most folk were only really good for slavery. Not everyone could be the legendary hand with a pistol and cannon like he was after all. Then again, he had spent centuries becoming the force he was. So, best to make sure the two would play nice on the ship and pull their weight. For right now best to leave the thinking of what exactly to do next to the floatin' wiz and the captain. He'd weigh in if they said something stupid, but, for now...
Reemes stepped up beside the disguised Koan and stuffed his pistol into his belt with a grunt and a stream of spit overboard. "Roit noxies!" He bellowed over the rail at the two in the boat. " C'm a'board y'filthy wreches! Slipper's a good boat, she is, an' we won't be 'avin' a lick of trouble from th'lot'o'ya, see?" he deftly drew his sword from his belt and spun the curved cutlass around his fingers with a wicked grin on his face. "Be good lil kullies an' ole Calico Reemes 'ere won't 'ave to give y'a smile six inches wide and four inches too low, see?" he drug the back of his blade against the soft underside of his throat, still smiling down at them. As the blade passed the end of his neck the blade burst into a brilliant ghostly flame before being sent through another whirling flourish around the fingers of his right hand. "Yeah?"
Reemes talks and informs the newcomers of the price should they not behave themselves. He activates the fire of his sword for effect.
Askia watched the Kor warrior do her work, smiling as the woman seemed to do roll out the red carpet for the stranded two. Clapping her hands as praise for such a great performance and even throwing in a whistle. Being a fledgling performer herself, the Kobold always appreciated seeing another person’s eccentricities put to work. ”Now that was a show, don't you think Hana?,” Askia asked her companion, before standing, having to hop down from her seat. Without another word, her body began to ascend as she equipped her lute and began to strum the chords.
It wasn't any fantastic music for the kobold’s entrance, but it would suffice for her purpose as she arose from the small boat she had been stuck on for a while. Plus, given the entrance they were given it only seemed necessary to express herself in such a fashion. Askia lowered herself onto the ship’s deck to notice all the different being aboard,her strumming faltering before ending. The Kobold bowed, flourishing her tail to the side, and introduced herself in an enthusiastic voice, “I am Askia, Kobold extraordinaire, at your service.” Her head poked up with a toothy grin, her glowing yellow eyes looking over everyone.
