I’m assuming that RJ, who has provided this write-up of our sixth session of our Known World campaign, is making a play on “ze plane, ze plane” from the old tv show Fantasy Island. Not sure the choice is completely apt as the island, Carcerus, the PCs had found themselves on was anything from one of their fantasies. 😉
When we last left our band of adventurers, they had found the thing that they sought after most…a boat. Mick was still down and out from a previous fight and the others were still feeling many of the effects of their recent adventures. Plus, their pursuers did not seem to be too far behind them and, after having slept for who knows how long, they had no idea how much time they had left.
There are still some spoilers for N4 Treasure Hunt below the break and my GM comments, as usual, are in [brackets and italics].
So there we were, Mick was down and out and the rest of us were on the verge of exhaustion. Of course, we had no choice but to push on despite our condition. Inside the room was a boat or, at least from our first glance, its stern. We closed the doors behind us and locked them but didn’t see anything with which we could bar the door.
We walked around the ship, noticing that the oars were already shipped. As we came around the prow of the boat, we realized that there was no obvious exit that the ship could fit through. The room had three walls and the door through which we had entered but no other exit. We did discover a lever on the far side of the room but none of us was sure that we wanted to throw it quite yet. We all hoped that the lever would open some sort of door that the boat could pass through but we worried that the room might get flooded before were ready.
So, instead, Moe decided to check out the deck of the boat. He jumped up, grabbing the railing, and pulled himself up enough to see onto the deck. Much to our chagrin, the deck was not clear. Six bodies were sitting on the rowing benches, slumped over the oars. As Moe fully pulled himself up and set foot on the deck, these dead men (yes, they were dead but much fleshier than the skeletons we had fought earlier) started to move. None of us were surprised by this turn of events and Moe jumped down to avoid what I assumed to be zombies.
As Moe landed on the floor, a horn blared from beyond the doors we had closed and locked. The Orcs were closing in on us. I ran for the door to make sure that it was locked, one can never be to careful, and to look around for something to brace the door but I saw nothing nearby.
Niccolo climbed up to the ship’s deck and shoved an oar down to the ground while yelling to Moe, “Get this to Erica!” Moe grabbed the oar and ran over to the door. We placed it in the doors’ brackets and hoped that it would hold the Orcs at least long enough for us to escape. As we did this, I heard a grunt of pain from behind us.
[While Erica and Moe had been busy securing the door (and Mick continued his impersonation of a large, lumpy door mat), Niccolo had remained on the deck of the ship. Todd had hoped that the zombies would not attack but, instead, would serve whoever commanded them. He, as you might guess, was incorrect in that assumption. The zombies moved and pretty much surrounded Niccolo, leaving the party member least talented in combat alone and facing many foes. He, at least, had his deflection spell going. After taking a wound, Niccolo decided to, so to speak, abandon ship. Lucky for him, the zombies all missed in their free attacks.]
As we turned around, the dead men were falling off of the boat and thudding to the ground. It appeared that my light was attracting them. Moe, as always, stepped up to defend as I shot at one of them. As Moe danced around and kept the creatures engaged, I headed to pull the lever we had found. I stopped and turned, however, and let loose a blast of the Twelve’s cleansing flame. Three of the foul creatures were reduced to dust, evening the odds against Moe.
[With no target in sight after Niccolo retired from the battle, the zombies moved towards the light. Not having enough intelligence to actually climb down from the deck, they just fell to the floor, stood up, and went for their targets…namely Moe and Erica. The fight was pretty short but RJ left out one thing in his telling. When Erica let loose with her burst of fire, she caught part of the ship in it as well and it started to smolder.]
I yelled for the others to get Mick on the ship as well as themselves. Niccolo looked a little confused and stunned but I think he heard me. The orcs had arrived and were pounding at the door. I quickly pulled the lever and the nearby wall collapsed outward; water, wind, and storm came pouring into the chamber as the orcs starting pounding against the door with increased vigor. I yelled to Moe to get to the back of the boat. In my panic, I thought that we might have to push the boat into the water not thinking of how heavy it would be.
I ran to Mick who was partially in the encroaching water and lifted him up to Niccolo who was now on the ship. He pulled Mick’s limp form up onto the deck. It looked like the water was not rising any farther, having stopped about halfway into the room. It wasn’t high enough to make the ship float!
Then I remembered. The ship was sitting atop stone rollers. Why wasn’t it moving? I looked down and saw that a wedge was blocking the roller and prevented it from moving. Yelling for Moe to do the same, I started pulling the wedges free in the hopes that the ship would roll into the water.
[The party saw the wedges when they first came in and assumed that they would have to push the ship to get it rolling. That option was about to disappear.]
As I moved around the ship pulling out the wedges, I heard a loud cracking noise from the door. The orcs had broken the lock and only the door had kept the door from opening under their last blow. Reaching under the water at the prow of the boat, I felt for the last wedge on my side and hoped that Moe was doing the same on the other side. The oar did not hold against the orcs’ next blow and the doors slammed open. Orcs and their damn horns…the loud blare echoed through the chamber and rang in my ears even with the fury of the storm outside.
Thank the Twelve! With the last wedges out, the boat began to move forward. I clamped down on my dagger with my teeth and clambered up to the deck and I saw that Moe was doing the same at the opposite rail. We literally hit the deck as a barrage of orcish arrows flew across the deck. In their wake, orcs followed. As the boat began to pass through the opening into the sea, the shipped oars snapping against the walls, some orcs made it onboard. I blasted them with holy flames and Moe moved in to kill the survivors of my blast. Two more orcs make it on deck before the ship was floating away from the island but Moe’s expert swordsmanship made short work of them.
As the ship moved away, the rain and wind pelting us, it was difficult to stand on the deck or see details on the island. Looking back though, we could see the storm was pounding the island. The ruined village, the palace, the temple, and other buildings were being destroyed. Lightning was striking all over the island and a dozen tornadoes were touching down. The ships on the beaches were being picked up by the wind and smashed against the island. It was like the world was ending.
Then, all of the sudden, the storm was gone, the sun shining and the wind calm. Looking back, everything was simply gone. No buildings, no ships, no people, not even bushes or grasses remained. We were all shocked and speechless as we looked upon nothing but bare rock. Shaking ourselves out of it, we checked on Mick and lay him under one of the benches on deck before we went down to the hold of the ship.
Moe took the lead and went through the trapdoor at the stern of the ship. A ladder led to a carpeted room with two chairs, a desk, and a door leading to another compartment. Although plush, there was nothing that would helps us survive such as food or water. Hoping that it led to a galley, we opened the next door.
It was no galley but just a bedroom. A bedroom with a man and a woman lying on the bed. Neither looked alive. [Both had obvious mortal wounds. The man had significant cuts and bruises with the blood brown in the wounds. The woman had a large hole and brown stain on her torso.] Both looked to stare up at the ceiling. As Moe moved into the room, they both sat up as the man said, in a dry and raspy voice, “Ah, dinner is served.”
I prayed to the Twelve to guard Moe and he was bathed in their holy protection. It was fortunate he had their protection as the man raised a wicked looking mace that sparked with an evil-looking purple light. Deftly dodging the undead’s first swing, Moe swung and connected but did no discernible damage. As “Himself” stepped back, the other undead–presumably “Herself”–stepped to engage Moe.
She swiped at my bodyguard with her taloned hand but Moe rolled with the blow and responded with low feint with his dagger, followed with a blow from his rapier. Straight through her eye, the blow immediately dropped her. Himself stepped forward again and this time he successfully hit Moe. The blow seemed to weaken him more than would seem warranted, some evil magic at work.
I had a clear shot and took it. The retort of my gunshot echoed loudly and the shot struck true, ripping through the thing’s chest. As it staggered back, Moe pressed his advantage. He struck true with another blow right through the eye and Himself toppled. Apparently shaken by these events, Moe grabbed a cutlass and lopped of the heads of the two corpses while proclaiming that they wouldn’t be coming back to life again.
Looking about the room, we found a wardrobe containing a locked chest but nothing of any immediate value to us. The key I had found on Demenus worked on the chest. It was filled with coins and a small case. The case held nothing but broken vials. Whatever value they may have had at one point had been lost. The mace was obviously magical but given what it did to Moe, I was reluctant to investigate it further.
We gathered the bodies and their once attached heads to throw overboard from the topside. After taking care of that piece of business, we moved Mick into the hold and settled his unconscious form on the bed. With no food or water, it would not be long before we’d be joining our incapacitated friend.
Niccolo took the form of a pelican in the hopes of both flying high to spot land or a ship and to catch some fish. Sadly, he saw nothing…no ship, no land, and no fish. It is hot, we’re thirsty, and on the verge of starving. I prayed to the Twelve to look after us as we worked to raise the mast and sail lashed to the deck.
Getting the mast up wasn’t too difficult but neither Niccolo nor I knew much about sailing and raising the sail was a bit difficult. Moe had spent more time around ships and helped us get the ropes and pulleys set correctly and get the sail raised. We tacked into the slight breeze that was blowing and barely moved.
That work took the last of my energy. I barely made it down into the hold and one of the chairs before I collapsed from exhaustion, a prayer on my lips.
[Niccolo followed Erica’s example and headed to the hold and a comfy chair before he collapsed as well. Moe remained conscious a bit longer and lashed the tiller before he succumbed to the toils of the past days. The last thing he remembered in his half-consciousness was a sense of being lifted and carried.
And that, of course, is exactly what happened. Another ship spotted them and took them aboard. However, given that they were all dressed like southern pirates, no chances were taken and the four were all locked up in a small cabin but tended to. Moe was the first to wake.
After he called out to see if anyone was outside the door, the captain of the ship–Amata Rizzo–opened the door and pointed a pistol at Moe. She demanded to know how they had ended up on that ship and what they had been doing. Moe pretty much told her the whole story about being kidnapped, shipwrecked, the island, the green-haired “woman” that Erica had seen, the undead, all of it. Needless to say, Captain Rizzo didn’t quite believe him.
Erica was the next to awake.]
The Twelve be praised! We did not die. When I woke, I was lying in a hammock in the dark. The rolling waves told me that we were on a ship but not the one upon which we had left the island. A quick prayer and my light showed that my companions were all lying in hammocks as well and a door. Knocking on the door, I got a quick response. My guard left to get the Captain.
I quickly checked on Mick, still alive and unconscious. A bucket of clean water sat nearby so him some water. I tried to wake Moe and Niccolo but only Moe woke. As I gave Niccolo some water as well, Moe told me that he had met the captain earlier and told me what he had told her. Then the door opened.
A woman stood in the doorway pointing a pistol at me. She introduced herself as Captain Amata Rizzo and wanted to how we had come to be on her ship.
I explained to the captain that we had been taken against our will in Porto, were to be sold into slavery in Freeport, were shipwrecked by a freakish storm, and the series of events that took place on the island. My vision of the green-haired woman was even shared and of her threat to destroy the island. The captain was not impressed nor did she seem to care that I was a priestess of the Twelve. Captain Rizzo simply told me that she would feed us once we told her the truth and locked me back in with my companions.
I rested some more until Niccolo woke up a few hours later. After he refreshed himself, Captain Rizzo escorted him out of our cabin…at gun point of course.
[Niccolo was taken up on deck where he met with another member of the crew, Quintus Florus. Quintus is something of an explorer, naturalist, and historian and was quite interested in the story of Carcerus. Although the captain and the crew showed little respect for Quintus and attempted to limit how much he shared with Niccolo, it was learned that the Sea Wyvern (this ship) was on its way to an island as part of an expedition to both explore, further colonize, and establish a trade route.
Quintus had no doubts that the story being told by Niccolo and his companions was true, especially since the signet ring of the Governor of Carcerus was found with them. The captain and much of the crew, however, remained skeptical.
Niccolo was also the first to meet the money behind the expedition, Averardo Meravanni. Signore Meravanni is a member of a well-known and powerful trading family from the city of Ptolus. He and Niccolo had a conversation about Niccolo’s trade (also something of an explorer) and the mage’s sponsor, a minor lord of Kemorr whose name escapes me at the moment.
Niccolo was invited to have dinner in the mess but declined when he was told that his other companions would not be allowed to join him. They would be taken food but not allowed out of their cabin so Niccolo elected to rejoin his friends for the meal and Quintus went with him.]
When Niccolo returned, he was accompanied by a Talasian who introduced himself as Quintus Florus and they had brought food! Our guard would not allow Quintus to come in the cabin and join us so he sat outside of the cabin instead and spoke to us through the door. As we ate, we chatted about our recent adventures and Quintus shared some about himself. He also told us the ship’s destination, Insula Metus…the Isle of Dread.
Although none of us had heard of the island, the name did little to inspire us. Over the next few days, Quintus told us more about the island and the reason for traveling there. He also read to us from a journal written by his sister, Lucia Florus, who he claimed was the foremost expert on the Isle and who had also gone missing.
I also had the pleasure to meet the expedition’s leader and financial backer, Signore Averardo Meravanni of Ptolus. Although he was distrustful at first and would not accept the word of a priestess at face value, our chats about Ptolus and the peoples and places there eventually convinced him that we were not pirates. He would not return our weapons but we were free to move about the ship and interact with the crew. Signore Meravanni also told us the reason for the expedition, heading to a settlement named Farshore with some new colonists and to check in on various investments he had made.
Our passage would not be free but Meravanni assured us that any payments we had to make would be reasonable given the circumstances. He also offered to heal Mick of his grievous wounds…for a price of course. We immediately agreed regardless of the price.
[Hopefully, even if the naïve Erica doesn’t understand why, RJ is starting to realize that being a priestess of the Twelve is not a free pass in the eyes of most people. He seems to have the opinion that all Erica has to say is, “I’m a priestess of the Twelve,” and everyone will instantly believe her.
Niccolo and Erica also told Captain Rizzo and Signore Meravanni that some of the items they had found on Carcerus as well as the ship they were found on were not theirs. Meravanni claimed all as his own. This included the wand that had been found and the magical dagger and mace. They warned of the potential evil that the two weapons may represent and Meravanni assured them that they would be handled with care.
Meravanni used a couple of potions that he had to heal Mick in exchange for the signet ring of the Governor of Carcerus. The merchant seemed quite satisfied with that exchange. He also stated that he’d be taking some of the gold from the chest but that the party would have a considerable sum remaining.]
The next few days were much more relaxing and calm than any we had recently experienced. We rested and recovered our strengths…a good thing as we would soon be in grave danger yet again. Niccolo and Quintus seemed to strike up a genuine friendship over various common interests and both shared quite a bit about their lives and their plans. Mick, not surprisingly, was more than a little disgruntled that we had so easily given up our claim to the old ship and to what he considered his dagger but it was for the best. That blade obviously had a detrimental impact upon Mick’s attitude and outlook on things.
Late one afternoon, we spotted land. A jungle covered island with rugged looking mountains. Two plumes of smoke billowed from what Quintus had told us were active volcanoes named the Fangs of Zotzhilla. Captain Rizzo had the first mate make a wide berth around the island and make for the southern end where Farshore lay.
Unfortunately, the mate was not up to the task. As we dined in the galley with our hosts, the ship came to a sudden stop. By the time we reached the deck, Captain Rizzo was administering her displeasure with fists to the face of the mate. He had run the ship onto a reef. Our old ship, being towed behind the Sea Wyvern, had also run up upon the reef. The captain made it clear that neither ship was going to get off of the reef without assistance.
[That’s more or less where we stopped for the night.]
