[Greenwich] The Melody in the Waves 17 Oct
Oct 25, 2018 8:09:02 GMT
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Tugark (Retired), crumblesnout, and 1 more like this
Post by grahams on Oct 25, 2018 8:09:02 GMT
“You want to know about the Strait of Sorrows?” Bodhi said, as he waxed his radical shield. “Sure, I can tell you what I remember, but it was over a week ago and...”, he paused to take a drag on the thing he was smoking, “a lot has happened since then”.
“This goliath was looking for a crew. I’ve been at sea all my life, man and boy. I can hand, reef, and steer. Yes, sure, you might say I was proficient with water vehicles, you might indeed say that. We had a surfeit of bards on this voyage. Us sailors have a rule. One bard on board. MAX. It’s more of a guideline than a rule. But if it’s not observed the sea shanties get kind of competitive, which kind of takes the crews attention off all the hauling, swabbing and caulking they should be doing. You’d have thought this pair were in a fiddle contest with Asmodeus for their very souls. We also had that half-orc fighter, and a pair of rangers, one of them a fine Tabaxi.
I offered to take the helm, What with my proficiency in water vehicles and all, but the captain said that was her job. She gave me the map. It took me a few days to get the hang of it. It turns out the blue bit is the sea and the green bit is the land. Not the way I normally do a sea chart, but every captain has their own ways, I mustn’t grumble.
The crew muttered sea stories to scare the cabin boy, dark tales about a ghost ship, haunting the thunderstorm that makes the Strait unnavigable for ships, with a crew of ghosts, and wreathed in blue flame.
To cut a long story short, the stories are true, I seen it with my own eyes. I took the wheel as it came upon us. “It’s ok,” I yelled to the captain, “I have a proficiency in water vehicles!”. We hauled our wind, and the chase was on. The ghosts seemed to be strange fish men, and minotaurs, and the main guy had kind of a crab claw for an arm. Their flaming arrows did us grievous harm, and we didn’t seem to have any ranged weapons to take the fight to them. She had such a spread of sail that the range closed. Perhaps we could board her and take her. But then the strangest thing happened. The ship passed right through our ship as if it too were a ghost. The tabaxi got a good harpoon shot off, impaling their leader, but their ship disappeared beneath the waves, and our ship joined it.”
Bodie took another long drag.
“I think we died. It was all black. I heard a sound, a melody. Then I found myself apparently alive, washed up on the beach of a mysterious island. Wreckage and some of the survivors around me. Are we in some kind of purgatory? We needed to find the others. We heard stories of a hatch into a mysterious underground temple. I knew one thing. We were Lost.”
“We met some fish men in the jungle, sahaguin I think you call them. I used some magic and totally seethreepioed them, they treated me as their god. They took us to the temple and we cleared the whole thing up. The magic whatsit did the thing, we didn’t steal it for our own power mad ambitions, we gave the crew the sweet release of their final peaceful slumber.
The Strait of Sorrows is no more. We renamed it. We called it the... oh you don’t want to hear about that. Pass me my shield. See, I’ve got this idea for a kind of flat boat...”
“This goliath was looking for a crew. I’ve been at sea all my life, man and boy. I can hand, reef, and steer. Yes, sure, you might say I was proficient with water vehicles, you might indeed say that. We had a surfeit of bards on this voyage. Us sailors have a rule. One bard on board. MAX. It’s more of a guideline than a rule. But if it’s not observed the sea shanties get kind of competitive, which kind of takes the crews attention off all the hauling, swabbing and caulking they should be doing. You’d have thought this pair were in a fiddle contest with Asmodeus for their very souls. We also had that half-orc fighter, and a pair of rangers, one of them a fine Tabaxi.
I offered to take the helm, What with my proficiency in water vehicles and all, but the captain said that was her job. She gave me the map. It took me a few days to get the hang of it. It turns out the blue bit is the sea and the green bit is the land. Not the way I normally do a sea chart, but every captain has their own ways, I mustn’t grumble.
The crew muttered sea stories to scare the cabin boy, dark tales about a ghost ship, haunting the thunderstorm that makes the Strait unnavigable for ships, with a crew of ghosts, and wreathed in blue flame.
To cut a long story short, the stories are true, I seen it with my own eyes. I took the wheel as it came upon us. “It’s ok,” I yelled to the captain, “I have a proficiency in water vehicles!”. We hauled our wind, and the chase was on. The ghosts seemed to be strange fish men, and minotaurs, and the main guy had kind of a crab claw for an arm. Their flaming arrows did us grievous harm, and we didn’t seem to have any ranged weapons to take the fight to them. She had such a spread of sail that the range closed. Perhaps we could board her and take her. But then the strangest thing happened. The ship passed right through our ship as if it too were a ghost. The tabaxi got a good harpoon shot off, impaling their leader, but their ship disappeared beneath the waves, and our ship joined it.”
Bodie took another long drag.
“I think we died. It was all black. I heard a sound, a melody. Then I found myself apparently alive, washed up on the beach of a mysterious island. Wreckage and some of the survivors around me. Are we in some kind of purgatory? We needed to find the others. We heard stories of a hatch into a mysterious underground temple. I knew one thing. We were Lost.”
“We met some fish men in the jungle, sahaguin I think you call them. I used some magic and totally seethreepioed them, they treated me as their god. They took us to the temple and we cleared the whole thing up. The magic whatsit did the thing, we didn’t steal it for our own power mad ambitions, we gave the crew the sweet release of their final peaceful slumber.
The Strait of Sorrows is no more. We renamed it. We called it the... oh you don’t want to hear about that. Pass me my shield. See, I’ve got this idea for a kind of flat boat...”
