Well at Least I’m a Magic Pirate Now

Sarenith 28

I laid awake for some time in the men’s bedroom, heart pounding, desperately seeking the rest I needed. The dark room was crowded with sleeping men in hammocks and bedrolls. The vague figures darkvision revealed to me were strange and threatening, Autopilot’s keen nightvision still unfamiliar to me. Narwhal Tate rolled over in his sleep, and for a moment there was a beast ready to pounce.

You’re safe. He wouldn’t attack you in the middle of the crew. He probably can’t summon another one of those things. He might even think you’re dead. Without Dierdre, you would be. 

My fey bodyguard stood vigil over me, which helped a little. Dame Dierdre didn’t have darkvision, but if anything happened she would certainly rouse the whole hold. Plugg, and I was certain it was Plugg, had sent a conjured beast to kill me. He wasn’t confident enough about his position to kill me openly. I repeated that to myself, until finally I fell asleep.

I was a bit groggy when the bell tolled and the men of the crew surfaced for breakfast, light streaming in through the bulkhead. I’d only managed to sleep for four hours after the attack. Not ideal, but I’d pulled all nighters before. Unfortunately, Autopilot had a different stance on the subject.

You have not recieved sufficient rest.

Your spells have not been restored 

Dc 15 saving throw vs. Fatigue. 

(Fortitude 10+1=11 Fail!)

You are fatigued (-2 strength, -2 dexterity. You can not run or charge.)

The stat reduction hardly registered compared to the first line. I felt completely naked. I’d used the last of my spell slots on summoning that surprisingly effective pony. I frantically flipped through my menu to consult my character sheet, and breathed a sigh of relief.

Spell like abilities used/max

Curse 0/2

Dancing Lights 0/1

Charm Person 0/1

Faerie Fire 0/1

Darkness 0/1

Levitate 0/1

Feather Fall 0/1

Read Minds 0/1

I’ve still got something. I can’t summon, but I have almost everything else. I just need to stay out of trouble long enough to get some sleep. Even if something happens, I still have Dierdre and the darkness trick to fall back on. 

“Hey.” Cog snapped his fingers in front of my eyes, “Wake up. I’ve got questions. Do you want to be late for breakfast?”

“Is that rhetorical, or are you up for a chat right now?” I asked, returning to the moment.

“Give us the quick version.” Cog said as Conchobar stepped up. “Why are you here and who’s the sprite?”

He gestured at Dame Dierdre, whose nose flared with outrage.

“I am an Atomie!” She snapped, “and he is lucky I am. No mere sprite could have stood against a raging beast as I have.”

Sprites are a smaller, weaker, and generally feeble minded species of fey than Atomies. They are relatively common, and sometimes the name is misapplied to all diminutive winged humanoids. (Knowledge Planes 10+2=12)

“She’s my new bodyguard, Dame Dierdre, and last night she saved my life.” I whispered, “a lion burst into my room and tried to kill me. I don’t have any evidence but Plugg is the only person on this ship that could pull something like this. Or me, I guess.”

Conchobar blinked a few times before answering, his eyes wide.

“You think the captain tried to murder you last night?” He said, his voice strangled.

“Yeah, and I’m still trying to decide what to do about it.” I hissed, “my word against his isn’t going to end in my favor.”

••••••••••

Several minutes later, I finished informing my alliance at the dinner table. I was very glad to have primed them all to expect this; I didn’t need to openly state my suspicions in public. Everyone knew that the number of magic users on the Man’s Promise could be counted on one hand, and most were sitting around that table.

“The thing that really freaked me out was that it tore up my bedroom first.” I finished, “I don’t think anything was stolen, but that thing was smart enough to bust into my quarters, look around, and come find me in the store. It was aimed squarely at me.”

Silence reigned after I finished speaking, with everyone looking at me pensively.

“So kill summoner.” Rowe said, in the tone I’d use to tell someone to break up with an abusive girlfriend. “Find, kill. No more Lion. Easy.”

“I don’t want a civil war on the ship,” I said, shooting down the idea. “If it ended up being an officer, things would probably just escalate. We’re already undermanned, but we need more than just my word before we even consider mutiny.”

I looked pointedly at Sandara, who was scowling. I knew she didn’t want a mutiny, but I wasn’t going to let myself be murdered to keep the peace. I’d try to keep the crew intact so we could all go home after this, but I wasn’t going to martyr myself for the pirate code. She met my eyes, and nodded. “If you have to start something, it’s not your fault anymore.” (Unspoken message recieved through Sense Motive 18+2=20) 

I can’t keep playing defensively forever. I need to figure out how to stay safe, then start striking back. I have an alibi to sleep with some of my strongest party members and Dierdre can keep watch at night. That won’t give me a good opportunity to sleep though, if every night is interrupted with a big cat attack. 

Sharing a bed with Caulky would probably be best, Plugg isn’t going to throw a lion at his kid sister, but I don’t think she wants that. I could also just sleep with the other guys. At least Owlbear and maybe Cog would have my back; I don’t know if Conchobar would be much help in the fighting, but he can heal. 

While I thought, my alliance whispered amongst themselves. Everyone seemed to take it as a given that I was probably the primary target; I was touched that nobody was abandoning me. Dierdre, if asked politely, was perfectly happy to describe the fight with the lion.

Dierdre somewhat exaggerated her own role. Apparently she had danced through the flurry of claw swipes, narrowly avoiding each blow while I ambiguously assisted her with magic. Details, like the pony that had occupied the lion’s attention for the entire battle, were inconsequential.

Dierdre was very proud of her strength, but she wasn’t actually an incredible combatant. She needed to have her enemy at a disadvantage to do any meaningful damage with her Sneak Attack ability, and she didn’t have much more HP than I did. If she kept throwing herself into combat, she’d probably get herself killed. Her recklessness was not unfounded, of course. As a creature of the First World, death just meant rebirth as a different species of fey. Her entire existence was but a game to her, which she would get to play again indefinitely. Each incarnation would come with a different role to play, different instincts, and different powers, but still on some level herself. (Knowledge Planes 20+2= Critical success)

“There’s no way he won’t figure out that you survived.” Syl pointed out, “so what is he going to do next?”

The answer came sooner than I might have hoped.

“Captain’s here!” Caulky called from the door, “Show some respect!”

The roar of conversation died down; not to silence, but many turned their heads to see what was going on.

“Mister M’Dair.” Plugg said in a booming voice, “I have tolerated your summoning antics in deference to Captain Harrigan’s decision, but I believe you require a firmer hand after all. Come here.”

I obeyed, after nudging my bag of precious magic items into Syl’s lap for safekeeping. (Opposed Sleight of Hand 12+7=19)

“Sir, is there a problem?” I asked, “I have taken every precaution.”

“Silence!” Plugg barked, “I have seen your quarters, and the store room door left swinging open with claw marks upon the floor. You summoned something you could not control, you fled the scene, and Miss Tarroon and I were forced to put down a fiendish beast you left to roam the ship!”

I was shocked, but rallied to defend my honor. In all likelihood he had arranged a theatrical production after his morning rituals, but even if I were believed such an accusation would lead only to an immediate brawl. 

“Miss Tarroon, you have seen the precautions I take when summoning.” I said to the highest ranking female in the room, appealing to reason, “I was attacked by and put down such a beast myself last night.“ (Diplomacy 16+7=23 You have gained 1 point of influence with Caulky Tarroon)

“You were aware of the danger and did not report it?” Plugg snapped, cutting off Caulky’s response, “Really? You wish me to believe that you were attacked by a great cat while sleeping soundly in your bed, fought it off with your bare hands, and then retired to the hold for the night instead of informing even the night crew? No, I think it more likely you fled a failed summoning, intending to use your crew mates as living shields, and fabricated this tale on the spot to enlist Miss Tarroon’s support. We are all aware of your silver tongue, Mr. M’Dair.” (You have lost one point of influence with Caulky)

Shit. He’s got me dead to rights, or at least he looks like he does. His version of events sounds pretty plausible, and the only reason I didn’t wake up the whole ship was that I panicked and overthought everything. The fact that I literally couldn’t summon one of those things if I tried doesn’t matter; fiendish animals aren’t properly extraplanar creatures for reasons that still confuse me. 

The crew were looking at me with frowns and furrowed brows. Some had a tinge of pity, thinking my crimes understandable, but hardly any held any suspicion of Plugg. Even Caulky had a resigned, disappointed expression. She believed I wasn’t responsible, but as an officer I should have raised the alarm. Only my companions, who knew my procedures and had seen my reckless dedication to the mission first hand, were staring at Plugg with unified distaste. Outnumbered four to one, helpless to gainsay him. (Sense motive 19+2=21)

They were ready to step in if needed, of course. Sandara casually adjusted her belt so her sword would be available. Syl was holding her bowl and tankard tightly, ready to throw them if necessary. Conchobar had summoned his flute and was clutching it against his chest. I held one hand up, signaling for them to stand down before I turned back to Plugg and awaited my fate. (Bluff to Convey a Message Subtly 1+10=Critical Failure)

No! No! The point was to keep it subtle! Now it looks like I’m fully in command!

Plugg flicked his eyes across the table, committing their faces to memory, before returning his focus to me.

“You are stripped of your post as quartermaster and strictly forbidden from further experimentation with summoning.” He said, “As the ship lacks a hot box, you will receive ten lashes each evening and be confined to the crows nest for three days as an additional lookout, with food and water forbidden to you. Afterwards you shall be assigned to the night shift. Perhaps your adaptation to darkness will be of some use there.”

I suppressed my fear and looked him straight in the eyes; I couldn’t bring myself to leave it there. I shifted my weight, subtly adjusting the shadows around me with my posture to maximize the effect of my words. 

“I hope nobody gets hurt because you want to pin this on me.” I said bitterly, “The one responsible probably deserves to die.” (Intimidate (shadow boxing) 9+10=19 Plugg is shaken for one round)

“Thankfully this ship is not so savage as all that.” Plugg said breezily, suppressing his momentary shock. “I intend to restore order to this ship.”

••••••••••

I was set to the task of rat catching in the bilges until the evening. If I’d kept my post, I would have probably tried to sleep in my office with Dierdre acting in my stead. She’d thankfully vanished when Plugg entered the room, hoping to avoid his attention. He didn’t talk to the crew much, so as far as I could tell it worked. Having a second set of hands and eyes made my work dramatically easier, even in the disgusting waist high bilgewater. I did, however, have a somewhat more dignified task for her.

The job was primarily to keep me occupied in a demeaning way, of course. The Man’s Promise had a modest rat population, and my quota of five rats captured was handily exceeded within an hour. (Survival 18+1=19)

“Milord, I have done as you requested and your path is clear.” Dame Dierdre reported, illuminating the bilges with dancing lights. “I also brought a few linens for you to wipe off the water so as to not leave a trail.”

“Thank you, Dame Dierdre,” I said with a smile, “I hadn’t thought of that.”

“I shall admit that as petty vengeance goes, eating at his table and leaving it assembled seems somewhat beneath you, milord.” Dierdre chided me, “especially when its assembly fell entirely upon my own person.”

“Trust me.” I assured her, “there’s a reason.”

Deirdre’s stealth check, a monstrous +20 thanks to her small size and prodigious dexterity, put mine to shame. The halls were not so crowded, nor so well lit, as to make my own unseen journey to Plugg’s chambers difficult, even with the damp and the smell of the bilges clinging to me. (Stealth 18+10+2-5=25) I was wary when I entered, sat, and quickly ate a single mouthful of biscuit. Dierdre had swept the room for traps or guardians, of course, but this was not a mission worth risking my life for if anything did pop up. Thankfully, a bit of cracker forced down my throat the moment it was soft enough qualified.

Eat at the officers’ table

Rewards: 1 exp. Lesser Transformation Potion: Human

1 experience will bring me closer to my next level, but I’m sitting at 13/18 with nothing else available. The potion turns someone into a human for 24 hours, physically and mentally, which might be useful at some point but nothing springs to mind at the moment. 

Seconds after I finished eating, I fled the room with the potion in my pocket. I was careless with my steps, and all but ran into Caulky. She was standing at the entrance to the bilges, calling for me to come out. The timing could not have been more wretched. (Stealth 2+10=12 opposed by Caulky Perception 17+6=23) 

Caulky wheeled upon me, her eyes going wide and mouth pulling tight as she realized it was me.

“What in the Nine Hells do you think you’re doing!” She shouted at me. “You are on punishment duty and you run off? Are you trying to get keelhauled?”

“Punishment duty for crime I didn’t commit, leading to being keelhauled for annoying the captain?” I shot back, irritated, “no, I’d prefer if he stopped targeting me for no reason.”

“A crime you didn’t…” she spluttered, “Emrys, it doesn’t matter if you summoned the thing or not! What’s important is that the crew sees something being done about it.”

“Important, is it,” I countered, “More important than figuring out why two fiendish lions, which I couldn’t summon even if I wanted to, are attacking me specifically?”

“They attacked me and Sebastien too!” She shouted, shoving me against the wall, “It’s not all about you!”

“The one I killed wrecked my room first then came to find me in the store.” I said, keeping my voice steady. “The one you killed was apparently sitting around in the store, probably waiting for me. Has anyone else, literally anyone, reported seeing it anywhere else? Scratch marks on peoples doors, an appearance on deck, anything?”

“That doesn’t change anything!” She insisted, refusing to meet my eyes. “Sebastien is looking into it, I’m sure.”

“Unless he’s responsible.” I muttered bitterly, without really thinking.

You have taken 7 nonlethal damage from a punch to the gut. 

Would you like to make an attack of opportunity? 

Hell no, I don’t want to escalate this further. I just hope Dierdre doesn’t do anything stupid. 

The blow knocked the wind out of me. Caulky grabbed me by the collar of my shirt and slammed me against the wall again, her eyes blazing with anger.

“He is your captain!” She hissed. “I don’t care if you want your own ship, a lot of us do. You’re not going to get it by stirring up mutiny against Sebastien. Now get back to work, and if I see you anywhere but your post I’ll give you worse than that!”

She slammed the door behind me, whatever her initial reasons to come check on me forgotten. I’d more than met my quota already, so I was able to sit for a few hours and let my nonlethal damage fade at a rate of 3 per hour. Dierdre had vanished somewhere, and visions of her making challenges to preserve my honor danced in my head. I didn’t want to imagine Caulky ripping the tiny fairy apart in self defense but it seemed disturbingly possible. She didn’t fear death, but I didn’t want to lose any of my supporters.

I sat upon the stairs and fired rays of frost at any rats that I saw moving in the darkness while I brooded. It was a surprisingly effective strategy, and I had a stack of 27 by the end of the day. It was more than four times my quota, but I somewhat doubted I’d receive any commendations.

Seems like Plugg has planted a whole alternative version of events in Caulky’s head. So, I’m planning a mutiny to steal his ship out of pure greed? It kinda sucks that he’s not entirely wrong. The only thing she’s missing is the motive and the real aggressor, and she doesn’t seem willing to be persuaded. Maybe I should have had Autopilot talk to her? It couldn’t have gone worse. 

In the evening, before dinner, Fipps and Scourge intruded upon my solitude and each seized one arm. I was frogmarched up to the deck, as if I was going to try to run off at any moment. The sunset stung my eyes, as obviously they didn’t let me put on my lenses.

“Mister M’Dair stands charged with recklessness and cowardice both.” Plugg announced to the crew, “I personally believe these crimes deserve death, but Miss Tarroon has persuaded me to show mercy. Stand against the mast, and Master Scourge may begin.”

I removed my shirt quickly, so it wouldn’t be ripped off. I wrapped my arms around the mast, the wood rough against my face, and felt a rope constrict my hands, pulling them taut. I tried to lose myself in thoughts, and let autopilot take the punishment.

Is there anything I can do to make this hurt less? 

Nothing overt. Haunted Fey Aspect would make us resistant to blows, but would surely invite further punishment based on Sandara’s example. I find that focusing on something else helps, though. 

You have been struck for 2 nonlethal damage

I craned my head to look around, detecting magic as I did. The focus helped me feel detached, allowing me to observe the world around me, barely feeling the pain. I noted that while my own allies were grim, the rest of the crew had no sense of outrage. I was not half so popular as Sandara. 

Attack missed your flat footed touch AC

The blow landed, it simply didn’t hurt much when it did. Scourge, despite his namesake, had abysmal technique with his whip. 

Attack missed your flat footed touch AC

No wonder these pirates give so many lashings per punishment, and with so much ceremony too. It hardly even stings. Mistress Dovnu can have a male on the floor mewling like a kitten from a single blow. 

You have been struck for 2 nonlethal damage (4 total)

Hmph. Perhaps it’s unfair to compare the two. The mistress uses her whip as an actual weapon, charged with magic. Of course she’s better at it. 

Attack missed your flat footed touch AC

What can I really expect from a stupid male that barely knows anything about controlling people with fear? It’s as if Plugg thinks that respect for tradition trumps everything else. 

You have been struck for 4 nonlethal damage (8 total)

Ah! So he can hurt someone with a whip. Perhaps I’ll lose consciousness after all. Maybe I should have feigned more of a reaction? His technique is still atrocious but he’s putting more vigor into it, at least. 

You have been struck for 2 nonlethal (10 total) 

Well at least that one struck one of the existing welts. His aim improved if nothing else. 

You have been struck for 4 nonlethal (12 nonlethal, 2 converted to lethal)

Ah, he’s hitting his stride. 

(You have lost consciousness). 

You have been struck for 4 nonlethal (12 nonlethal, 6 converted to lethal)

You have been struck for 4 nonlethal (12 nonlethal, 10 converted to lethal) 

You have 2 hit points. Would you like to wait and rest until you regain consciousness? Y/N