-PL-

[Private to Hoat Hundemar: Take 3 temporary dexterity and wisdom damage]

Zorlax mutters under his breath and takes a small sip of the Red eye. He quickly spits the putrid stuff out and finds a clean place to sit and watch the drinking games.

A pained expression crosses Hoat's face, but he slams a great fist into a nearby rock to try and regain focus,

"You'll no' ge' th' best o' me dwarr'" he shouts, and throws back another mug full of Ol' Red Eye.

(OOC: 23:44, Today: Hoat Hundemar rolled 21 using 1d20+5. Fort Save. )
This message was last edited by the player at 04:45, Wed 16 Nov 2005.

Hogar just laughts at Hoat's discomfort with a real Dwarven drink.  He fills his own mug again, only spilling about as much as he catches in his mug.  Taking a another slow long drink, he starts to cough about half-way through his mug.  With tears running out of his eyes, he mumbles, "Bit, went down the wong way.  Till mile as ye mums milk."

He finishes his mug and just stares at the barrel with a bit of drool pooling out of his mouth.

Fort Save: 10

Zorlax gets bored watching the drinking contests and continues searching around the cave (I assumed he stoped when he found the barrels)

Zorlax continues searching in the same way as before. It seems this place has all sorts of illusionary places as he soon finds another.

[Private to Hogar the Hapless: 1 dexterity and 2 wisdom damage.]

As the giant and the dwarf drink the redeye you all hear a shout coming from outside of the cove entrance. Soon enough, the prow of a boat pokes through the fake rock wall. It seems the ship has returned from it's shakedown.

Hoat tries to rid himself of the alcohol-induced haze with a shake of his great shaggy head.  With blurred vision, he squints at the newly-arrived ship, looking for any interesting details.

As the effects of the Ol' Red Eye wear off, Hoat picks his teeth with a dagger, waiting for something to happen.

The ship sails into the cove, the hustle and bustle of activity from on deck is plentiful. The crew seem rowdy as they offload some sacks. A gangplank is set at each side of the boat and while the rest of the crew does what it has to, a grizzled old man walks off and spots the group. He looks you all over before a series of dark 'flashes' appear, seeming to trail a route from the captain's 'office'.
Of course it is the cap'n herself. She rematerializes in front of the older man. He seems to be the first mate.

"How went the shakedown, Buck?" the captain asks the mate.
He answers in quite a harsh voice
"Better'n 'spected ma'am. Bunch o' stupid Waukeenar sailed too close to the Nelanthers bound south. Looted 'em of everythin' they had and left 'em sailin' with nary a morsel t' eat and only the wide waters t' drink. Weren't any bother an' we're only a little late back home."
The only response the captain gave was a nod but with that sign the mate continued.
"Who're them lot, cap'n?" he asks, sweeping an arm out towards the group.
"These're our new shipmates, Buck. Now you're back we can let our friends out o' the shadows, eh?" she looks up at the ceiling then puts her arms into position as if she were firing a crossbow at Hoat. 'Buck' stares at Hoat for a moment then erupts into a huge guffaw which the captain gladly shares in, placing an arm on his shoulder and slapping her leg.
"Fell fer that old one did they? Well, I've got to rouse this rabble into shiftin' the booty faster. We'll count it later, aye?" he walks off chuckling before yelling at an out of breath crewman to get off his backside.

The captain walks over to you now.
"What d'ye think o' me ship, me hearties? She be named the Desert Rose if'n ye want to be knowin'.

Zorlax examines the ship looking for several things. How big is this ship? Crew? Armaments? Number of sails.

I think it will do, a little on the smallish side, But I'll bet shes fast.

Hoat clears his throat loudly, pulling up a large mucus-filled wad.  He spits it a respectful distance away from the Captain and mate before replying,

"I s'pose she'll do fer me, Captain-ess. Even a Rose has some thorns. I just got two questions - where do I sign, an' where's my bunk?"

"Was taking all thier provisions really necessary? All of them could die of thirst before they reach an available source of fresh water. We looted everything of value from them how much could leaving them with a little bit of water cut into your take?" A voice calls from the ship. Soon a young man in about his mid twenties can be seen walking down the gangplank and headed towards Buck and the captain. Surprisingly the man appears to be a Priest and as one looks over his blue and silver robes and notices the large plain silver disk that dangles from a chain around his neck it becomes apparent that he's a Priest of Tymora.

Buck walks over, looking angry...angrier than usual.
"Ah, quiet yerself. Whatever they had was ours to take. If they're smart they'll just head back to Athkatla. They'll survive fer that long without anythin'. If they're stupid and go somewhere else, then it's their own fault."
He stares hard at Flik, as if daring him to argue.

"Hey, I was just worried about them alright! It's not like I'm an expert seaman who knows where every port is and how long it takes to get there. If you say that they'll be able to make it back fine I believe you, for now anyway, But that doesn't mean that leaving them atleast a day's worth of water just incase would of been a bad idea." Flik replies to buck.

Zorlax mtters I think I would have stove in their boat. Now if they make it to port, they will notify the port authorities as to the active operation of corsairs in the area. No need begging for some merchant's group to send out bounty hunters."

"Fer a wizard, ye ain't too smart. These are the Nelanthers, otherwise known as the Pirate Isles. O' course there's 'corsairs' in the area.
This message was last edited by the player at 07:44, Fri 06 Jan 2006.

"Heh, we've got a few new faces. Couln't resist our captain's hospitality I'd wager.Oh where are my manners I'm Flik, what are your names?"

Zorlax Marn, Keeper of Secrets. the mage replies with a low voice. He glances at the captian and offers a slim smile. His eyes twinkle as he watches and waits for the questions.

Aurlin walks onto the ship. This would not be the first time that Aurlin has been late to an appointment, nor would it be the last. He is six foot tall, has light blue skin and white hair. He wears baggy dark blue pants and a loose fitting light blue shirt, making no attempt to hide his air gensai heritage. He wears a belt holding multiple knives, pouches and a Rapier. A quiver of arrows and his pack are secured to his back, while his bow is tied in an easy release knot on his bag.

"So, this is the crew aye? His eyes never stop moving as he talks. "So what exactly have I signed on for here?


(OOC: sorry I havn't posted sooner. I didnt realise that the new crew members where being introduced.)

Behind the genasi walks an elf, almost a foot shorter, wearing white pants and shirt. He has long dark hair and deep green eyes that move from person to person, weighing each one. He carries a rapier at his hip and he holds the unstrung stave of a longbow in his hand. At Flik's question he turns to face him, a lazy smile on his face.

"I'm Aralanthalas." He says and inclines his head slightly.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:54, Mon 09 Jan 2006.

"Nice to meet you, now are the rest of you going to introduce yourselves?" Flik asks. If anything he seems the type that doesn;t like sitting around waiting paitently.

Hoat spits at the feet of the questioner before standing his nearly seven-foot frame up straight and looking down at Flik.

"I be Hoat Hundemar of the far North, little man.  So now that ye have my name, what'll ye do with it?"

"Oh probablly lose it on a bet I'd imagine." Flik replies to the almost unnaturally tall man. Although the man was huge flik was not unnerved in the least.