Neftas had climbed down from the crow's nest when this was indicated, but had chosen to stay up top, watching the sea together with his prized pig.

Down in the hold, Kat sees the monster rising, and turns toward the ladder.  As he scrambles to climb up to the main deck, he shouts to the others "The song, the song to summon help!  Let us all go top side and try it!"

Even if that doesn't work, at least up top there will be more room to escape the monster than down in the cramped bilge.

Josh rolled 13 using 1d20.  Initiative (K).
-burning 1 Luck to bump that up to 14
This message was last edited by the player at 20:27, Sun 24 May 2020.

04:11, Today: Quadrakill rolled 19 using 1d20.  Init roll.

Without bothering to put away his meat, Fouillis chops desperately at one of demon mom’s arms with his chisel.

04:14, Today: Quadrakill rolled 1 using 1d20.  Fouillis to hit.

Meanwhile, Obtenir tries to ram his pitchfork down her throat, for some Freudian reason.

04:15, Today: Quadrakill rolled 3 using 1d8+1.  Damage.
04:15, Today: Quadrakill rolled 19 using 1d20+1.  Obtenir to hit.
This message was last edited by the player at 08:16, Wed 27 May 2020.

Having no flight instinct, Foullis and Obtenir must fight. Foullis loses his footing on an unflushed eddy of offal and shatters his chisel on an overhead pipe (chisel and all it represents--destroyed) in the subsequent flailing. The farmer pierces the demon baby mama (3 points halved to 2).

Four islanders, having more flight instinct than fight, flee. They once again wade through the bilge water and reach the base of the platform--from which they can ascend the ladder to the surface world.

In a hot-blooded rage, the demon attacks indiscriminately. Poor Kat. Obtaining his status as guild beggar had been the crowning achievement in his life and had afforded him a 5% discount on the purchase of his crutches. Now, he lies face down in the muck, his liver safely ensconced within the monster's left cheek, having been transferred their by its ever active right claw.

Up above, Endo engages in some mild stocktaking.


As if in answer, that same ethereal voice croons,

If you're going to San Francisco
Be sure to wear some scrimshaw in your hair.
If you're going to San Francisco
You're gonna meet some gentle kobolds there.

What! San Fancisco? Where is that? Who would want to dance with kobolds there?

Islanders are up.
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:49, Wed 27 May 2020.

It happened too fast.

Zobart found twenty-something legs on a forty-something frame and pushed past everyone, climbing the ladder to the main deck two creaking, decrepit rungs at a time.  Xander was after, finding it hard to go fast with one hand on an axe and another on a row paddle all the while feeling like he was about to drown.

And then.  "DIE!" he heard below, and he looked down to see Yolanda raising the billy club he'd given her all those years ago to help her tend goats.  He saw the same look in her face when he told her about poachers.

"NO!"

Before he knew it, he was yanked onto the deck, already starting to list.  "Nothing to be done, lad, now be a good sort and find a lifeboat.  We're days from port."

Xander struggled for a good moment before spinning and decking the old gambler, right in the kisser.  After all, it was his fault they were on this ship, his fault they'd all be dead very soon.

"Boat?  There's no boat!  Over the side, swim for a cloud, that means land?" Xander cried, running to the railing and looking for anything that might suffice - outcrop, reef, anything.

Actions
X to the main deck and railing, looking for land
Z shepherding
Y attacking the skrag with club: 6 to hit for 2 damage, minus 1 for bad STR, won't cut it


21:35, Today: Ecla rolled 6,2 using d20,d4.  Y vs Skrag.

Kat was taken so quickly he didn't even have time to utter some pithy last words.  But at least his last moments had been full of the hope that he would escape, rather than the despair of knowing otherwise.

Up in the main deck, Neftas and Porcelina look over to see Xander and Zobart emerging from below.  The dwarf calls to them "I ain't seen any sign of the monster!  What's going on down there?"
This message was last edited by the player at 03:28, Sat 30 May 2020.

Enraged at the destruction of the chisel with which he’d been hoping to father a masterful new race of progeny, Fouillis swings the chain that used to keep him down, hoping to knock the liver right out of the demonic baby mama’s filthy mouth.

19:00, Today: Quadrakill rolled 1 using 1d3.  Dam.
19:00, Today: Quadrakill rolled 16 using 1d20.  Fouillis to hit.

Meanwhile, Obtenir targets the monster’s crotch, making a beeping sound with his mouth as the bloodythirsty tines hone in on their target.  Once a lock is acquired, he launches the four-headed missile deep inside the infernal homeland of the enemy.

19:04, Today: Quadrakill rolled 6 using 1d8+1.  Damage.
19:04, Today: Quadrakill rolled 21 using 1d20+1.  Obtenir to hit.



This message was last edited by the player at 23:05, Mon 01 June 2020.

Three islanders remain in the bilge. Before striking, Obtenir studies the demon before him. So much breeding, such a prolific brood -- but no evident external genitalia. He is no initiate into the mysteries of demonic miscegenation.

The jaws of the cacodaemon lunge towards Yolanda, enveloping her within a mephitic cloud. With a last second twist, she avoids the full chomp (3 dmg).

As the blood and ichor is spilled, the water level rises. The corpse of Kat had been bumping about at shin level and now he's inching up to knee level.

From the deck of the sinking ship, no land of any form can be sighted--no surprise given the days of sailing to reach either known destination.

4 more damage for a total of 6.
All islanders are up.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:32, Tue 02 June 2020.

The jaws of the cacodaemon lunge towards Yolanda, enveloping her within a mephitic cloud. With a last second twist, she avoids the full chomp (3 dmg).

Hardly feeling anything, the girl raised by wolves swims back and leaps forward, once again trying to club the thing into submission.

Meanwhile, although Xander is keenly aware of Yolanda's fate and utterly miserable, he can't give into despair.  "The Klabautermann ... the kobold of the seas .. save us!" he cries at the waves and the seabirds.

"That's it, the lad's gone cracked," Zobart mutters, sitting on his butt and rubbing his jaw while waiting for the end.

Actions
X prays
Y attacks: 10 to hit, minus 1 for bad STR .. assumed miss
Z reclines

14:02, Today: Ecla rolled 10,1 using d20,d4.  Y vs Skrag, part 2.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:04, Tue 02 June 2020.

At the sound of turmoil and carnage emerging from belowdecks, Endo awakes from his haunted reverie and grabs his flute. Sensing the urgency of the situation, he begins to play with all of his minimal might and talent.

Neftas takes out his recently procured "Kobold of the Seas" tambourine and starts playing along with Endo.  He keeps the beat better than might have been expected.  He starts stomping in time as well, inspiring Porcelina to dance along.  The dwarf and pig together make for an incongruously joyful sight, given the circumstances.

The music seems to drive F and O into an almost Dionysian frenzy and they start dancing and singing, punctuating each phrase with another weapon strike into the cacodaemon’s foul flesh.  “Dum da da dum da CHA!”

07:03, Today: Quadrakill rolled 6 using 1d8+1.  Dam?
07:03, Today: Quadrakill rolled 9 using 1d20+1.  Obtenir to hit.
07:03, Today: Quadrakill rolled 3 using 1d3.  Dam.
07:03, Today: Quadrakill rolled 16 using 1d20.  Foullis to hit.
This message was last edited by the player at 11:04, Fri 05 June 2020.

And just like that, two more islanders expire in ignominy: Yolanda and Fouillis. It wouldn't be correct to say the demon stands above them cheeks bulging, more like wades above them with cheeks bulging as the waste water has reached thigh level. Multiple corpses now bob about the bilge, bumping against Obtenir in far too forward a fashion.

Up top, a novelty act of sorts performs for the first time. Mercifully, twenty seconds into this performance they cease their ungodly racket to listen to Olfred's hearty, though still distinctly funereal, reply:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TVY8LoM47xI

2 more damage for a total of 8.
Ecla and Quad, you may write up the death scenes for your characters.
All islanders are up.
This message was last edited by the GM at 22:36, Tue 09 June 2020.

One instant Fouillis is having the time of his life pounding the demon mama with a chain like every switchblade-wielding gangbanger’s worst nightmare, and the next there is a cavernous space where his liver used to be.  He feels used.  Empty.  Unfulfilled.  He thinks of all the dwarven chests he would have made had he lived, especially the d-cups.  Then he mutters, “i’m suing.”

But he is mistaken.  He won’t be filing any lawsuits, because dead people aren’t allowed to do that.

He’s dog meat on toast.  Gone.  Finished.  Kaput.

Stone dead forever.

Right beside him, Yolanda gives out one squeal like a sow at slaughter and then falls into the bilge slime.  An unknown, ignominious end fitting to a humble and simple creature.

On deck, with the ship sinking and no hope beyond a mad plan to summon a water god with awful music, older men might cry and wail, and so Zobart does.  "Why!  WHY?" he hurls at the sky.  Younger men simply stare at the water and wait for the right time to jump.  Xander winces at the noises from the hatch.  Die now or die later?  At least he'd chop a shark's face off before the end.

And there are no more noises to be heard from the gaping hatch. The ship itself groans with the sundering of its innards.

Topsides, four islanders and one pig bewail their fate, in silence, song, and supplication. Okay, maybe not the prize pig. Its powers of cognition may actually be rather be limited despite the body of myth and legend which testify otherwise.

As if from a far off sepulchral place, Olfred's voice reaches the topsiders.

Everybody's talkin' at me
I don't hear a word their sayin'
Only the echos of my mind
People stop and stare
I can't see their faces
Only the shadows of their eyes.

I'm goin' where the sun keeps shinin'
Through the pourin' rain
Goin' where the weather suits my clothes
Bankin' off of the northwest winds
Sailin' on summer breeze
And skippin' over the ocean like a stone

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DHcrpIqko2g

Is Olfred saying goodbye? That last ineffable goodbye?

Obtenir, you may make one final attack against the demon progenitor and then write up your expiration. There is one more sleeper in the Human Livestock Deck. Roll him up and post for him.
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:55, Wed 10 June 2020.

The ship itself groans with the sundering of its innards.

Was this the end?  Amid the shrieks of timbers, was that song?  Zobart and Xander, one half-mad from withdrawal and the other from grief, both scream their own versions of pirate shanty in time with the madness.

Then Xander springs away from the rail and slams the deck hatch shut, as if daring anything to come through.  When the vessel was finally going under, he plans a running, sprinting jump onto a gunwhale and into the waters, come hell or high sharks.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:21, Wed 10 June 2020.

"Well that went well," Endo observes to nobody in particular as the ship shivers and screams. He ruefully observes Zobart and Xander abandoning ship. "This stupid flute has to be good for something" he curses. He begins to play again, a wilder and more frantic tune. He feels the call of the chaotic sea pulling him. If the Klabautermann will not come to him, he will come to it. As the ship breaks apart he silently mutters to the void "into your hand I commit my spirit" and then, with a final horrifying wail of the flute, he swan dives from his seat on the crow's nest into the encroaching sea.
This message was last edited by the player at 18:53, Thu 11 June 2020.

Neftas has always believed that good fortune will find its way to him sooner or later, and he's not about to stop that now just because things look inescapably dire.  Surely there will be a door or something he can float on before he gets too wet.  A door big enough for the dwarf and his pig, of course.

The one unanswered question amongst all those awaiting their doom--how long must they wait?--is soon answered.

It's an understandably tense wait, punctuated by worrisome thoughts of the demon's return. But it does not, having apparently found a more pressing calling.

25 or so minutes before the seas slurps the Star of Nostro. And while the islanders and the pig make their diverse entries into the sea and in diverse states of mind, they all do make their entry after or just before the ship goes down. The Klabautermann, that singer-songwriter-loving kobold of the seas, must have finished his set.

After surfacing, they bob about in the choppy and roiling sea, their eyes stinging with salt and their lungs hungering for air. If they don't find something to hold on to, they will drown.

Each islander can make an unmodified luck check (roll equal to or lower than your luck), to see if they luck out. Neftas rolls for both himself and pig.

After surfacing, they bob about in the choppy and roiling sea, their eyes stinging with salt and their lungs hungering for air. If they don't find something to hold on to, they will drown.

Swimming in rivers was one thing, this was something else.  Xander keeps a hold of his row paddle and axe as long as he can, using the former to hook enterprising-looking flotsam towards him while hoping not to have to use the latter on enterprising sharks or skrags.

Then there was Zobart.  He knew how to swim, in that figurative sense, with card sharks.  In real water with real waves, not so much.

X has a luck of 8:  rolled a 6, pass?
Z also has a luck of 8: rolled a 15, no pass pas?

20:51, Today: Ecla rolled 6 using 1d20.  X luck check0
20:52, Today: Ecla rolled 15 using 1d20.  Z luck check..

Correct. Zobart dies. Xander survives.

Endo slowly works his way back to the surface after executing, dare he say, a picture perfect swan dive. He finds that the flute is somehow still in his hand. Although somewhat weakened from his . . . not fighting? he finds the strength to paddle in the direction of a promising-looking door. In fact, it appears to be the door from the captain's quarters. What irony.


14:06, Today: Coily rolled 5 using 1d20.  Endo luck. (Endo has luck of 14)

Once again, Neftas's faith in the universe pays off.  Endo might have gotten the nicest door on the ship, but there are more to be had, and soon he and Porcelina are floating on top of the waves with only the slightest of worry.

Josh rolled 9 using 1d20.  Luck 12.

Even the sinking of a doomed ship cannot separate the three survivors and an exceptional pig. The captain's door, made of the finest mahogany, bumps up against another door and then a third. Unexpectedly, and through no perceivable agency, they adhere to one another, making a makeshift raft for Neftas, Endo, Xander, and Porcelina with enough room for both the two- and four-legged to stretch their legs. What's more, a couple of bottles of whiskey miraculously make their presence known by plinking against the side of the "raft" along with some other choice, unspoiled provisions. As if that weren't enough, so does some sailcloth to shield the vulnerable from the sun.

Nobody pays much attention to the spare helmsman's wheel as it floats passed the vessel.

The demon, for what else could it be, does not show itself again. It might have to find another home for its unhatched brood. Or maybe the more ravenous denizens of the sea might be having themselves an omelet brunch, leaving the demon with but a mouthful of liver.

After a suitable length of time, sails appear from the northwest, as prophesied. Before long, the four of you are taken aboard an Ibissian pirate ship. Now, if the captain of this ship has plans to press these four into service, well, they are the survivors of the doomed ship, the Star of the Nostro, and such survivors are not to be trifled with.

FIN

Obtenir tried.  That is the best thing you can say about any man.  He may have failed like a fruitless bitch, but he tried, by the gods.

But in his next life... he won’t....