Well at Least I’m a Magic Pirate Now

Erastus 1

A haze filled the air, staining the sky a pale orange and blocking much of the noon sunlight. The salty sea breeze, mixed with the smoke, created an overpowering aroma. Behind us, the sea lapped against sheer stone cliffs dozens of feet below. The pillar of smoke in the distance grew slowly, inching towards us as Syl patched Sandara up. All the while, a ghoul sat on a rock a few feet away, her monstrous face hidden behind an illusion. Sosima waited, hands folded in her lap, her eyes flitting to each of us in turn with a blank expression.

Autopilot. Make small talk. I’ve got shit to do. 

“So, Lady Aulamaxa, what can you tell us of this island?” I asked, masking my nervousness. “We hope to leave soon, but knowledge is power.” (Diplomacy 4+7=11)

“Alas, there is little of note to say. To the north is the beach, where the old fishing village once was. To the west are the mountains, where Officer Ivey might be able to assist your friend, and to the south are the old, overgrown fields. In the center are the forests, where the gangs rule.”

I trusted Cog, Rosie, and Autopilot to pay more attention than I was while I flicked through my menus. As far as I could tell, Autopilot committed damn near everything to memory like a living chat log. In the interest of protecting the group, Rosie was demoted to follower in order to make room for Sosima. The fact that I could add the ghoul as a party member was a big point in her favor, but I also wanted to know what she was capable of. I wasn’t confident that Sosima would be my ride or die companion just because she was in the party, especially after everything with Caulky, but it certainly couldn’t hurt. We needed to deal with her quickly; Owlbear’s days were numbered.

“For the sake of argument, let’s say that we can get Sandara up to fighting trim.” I said, interrupting Sosima’s speculation about the initial ghoul outbreak. She seemed perfectly willing to expound at length about any topic, so long as Autopilot acted suitably impressed. “Do you know where the grindylows are?”

“Oh. Yes. Quite.” Sosima answered, fumbling her words, “that is to say, I know approximately where they are.” I have a guess and I’m reasonably confident they are there if they are on the island at all, but I have never actually seen their camp. (Sense Motive 19+1=20 opposed by Bluff)

“You avoid their territory?” I probed, “a strong lady like you?”

“They have created a border to ward off the ghouls, I believe.” Sosima said, “great armor plated insects burrow beneath the fields to the south. They have for as long as I’ve lived on this island, and their blood is acidic. Dangerous to eat, even for ghouls.”

“There isn’t enough food for something like that.” Rosie blurted out, excited, “so the squid-goblins are feeding the bugs to keep away the ghouls!”

“Yes.” Sosima responded, eyes narrowing in irritation. “Quite.”

She wanted that reveal for herself. Sosima seems like a bit of a showboat, so maybe I need to keep throwing compliments at her? In any case, we’ve found the ankhegs. So we either run across fields guarded by giant acid bugs, or we approach by sea and have to fight the grindylows in their element. Aren’t goblins supposed to be dumb and reckless?

I glanced over at Rowe, who was merrily building and maintaining a loop of traps around our little camp. Most of them appeared to be short lengths of wood set to magically launch chunks of rusted metal at intruders. Each time she returned to make a small adjustment, a magical aura would flare up again before fading over the course of a few minutes.

Strike that. Goblins are weird and inefficient, but they’re effective. Two ton insect husbandry for home defense checks out. 

“Ankhegs can feel vibrations through about 60 feet of earth, but they can’t burrow through solid rock. We might be able to use that.” I noted, reading their bestiary entry aloud. “I can’t imagine that attacking the grindylows from the water is a good idea, but killing off the guard bugs might exhaust us.”

A demon could probably take an ankheg in a straight fight, especially with ranged support from Rowe. It’d get hurt, though. Demonic rampage is my trump card; do I want to play it before I even get to the front door?

I sent out the voidworm to confirm the Grindylows location. I didn’t phrase it that way, on the off chance openly questioning Sosima’s guess would set her off.

“See if you can find a route to the Grindylows’ lair that is mostly across stone.” I commanded before turning to my team. “That’ll be our best bet, if we need to sneak past. If nothing else, it’ll stop the ankhegs from coming up right beneath us.”

Sandara has recieved treatment for deadly wounds, healing 3 hit points. 

Damn, she’s still at -2 hp. Why didn’t I swipe a healing potion? The rest of us are barely injured but the healer is downed. 

Syl pursed her lips, checked Sandara’s breathing, raised her head, and slapped her a few times. Sandara’s eyes opened slightly and she mumbled something inarticulate, surfacing but not really aware of her surroundings.

“Drink up,” Syl ordered, pouring a splash of liquid into Sandara’s mouth. The redhead spluttered for a moment, but must have swallowed some of it because I saw the results in popup form.

Sandara has consumed a Constitution stimulant. 

I checked her character sheet, and sure enough Sandara’s maximum and current hp was increased by three when her constitution score was temporarily boosted. That brought her up to 1 hp, enough to fully regain consciousness.

“Besmara’s tits, that hurts.” Sandara groaned, reaching to touch her bandaged arm with her holy symbol.

Sandara has cast Cure Light Wounds, healing 4 hp

Sosima winced as two more pulses of healing washed across the party, healing us all 18 total hp. It didn’t cause any actual damage to her, being set to heal, but she could clearly sense the waves of positive energy.

“Good news, Sandara.” I told her as she stood up, “We’ve got a local guide. She knows where the grindylows are. We can head out whenever the worm gets back.”

Sandara looked skeptically at Sosima, sniffing the air and wrinkling her nose. I met Sandara’s eyes and winked. (Bluff to communicate subtly 18+10=28) I know she’s not what she seems and I have a plan, just keep an eye on her. 

“Lady Aulamaxa, you mentioned a healer you knew.” I said, shifting the topic, “Do you think he’d be willing to help us fight the grindylows?”

“Unlikely. He’s a terrible coward who never leaves his mountain retreat.” Sosima said bitterly. “Clever, of course, and not unkind in his way, but he’s become paranoid. Any signs that someone might have any kind of fever, and he will cast them out of his presence. I have seen from afar that he is still relatively amicable upon a first meeting, however, and willing to provide food, water, and healing to castaways.”

“Then we’ll plan to visit him after we get the men back.” I declared, “I bet we’ll be spent and injured when we are done with the grindylows, and we’ll want to rest before we head back through the woods.”

Figuring out how to get him off the island can wait. I’ve got too much on my plate right now, but he’s another payday. The payout is smaller than Sosima’s, but that hopefully means he’ll be less problematic. If he’s still alive, the biggest threat will be getting out past the ghouls. I hope the ship is doing alright. 

“Boss! Boss!” The voidworm called out long before we saw him, “I found a way into the grindylows caverns! There’s a big entrance in the mountains, but I don’t think the grindylows use it much. It’s really far from the water and they are slimy freaks. All the other ways up went directly into the big dirt area that looked like a bunch of anthills, so I figured that you weren’t interested in those. This cave, though, it’s super pretty, and it had shiny rocks in it. I think they are just quartz or something but can you imagine if the grindylows were living in a diamond mine and just didn’t care? Value is a social construct so it would make perfect sense, but they are surrounded by greedy pirates and they just don’t give a fuck! Hilarious!”

••••••••••

The rocky mountains on the western coast of the island were clearly where my menu wanted me to go, and I didn’t have any reason to distrust it yet. Sosima wanted to go there, there was a back door to the grindylows’ lair, and another one of my mission targets, Aaron Ivey, had a well fortified cabin there as well. On top of everything else, the mountains were far away from the spreading flames.

“I would have expected more resistance,” I noted while we caught our breath, “More ghouls trying to eat us. That kind of thing.”

“Nobody knows we are here.” Sosima answered, “I do hope your ship is well guarded?”

“Pretty well guarded,” I answered nervously, “is the ship likely to be attacked?”

“Almost certainly,” Sosima said airily, “whenever the gangs stop fighting each other over who gets to strike first.”

Sosima moved quickly through the trees, keeping pace with the flying voidworm and occasionally switching to all fours to scramble over a large rock or swing over a small river with a branch. Whenever she did something particularly athletic, her illusion would falter as her arms stretched the extra foot necessary to catch onto a branch or handhold, becoming a chalky pink color. She would turn after each such stunt, grinning. The rest of the team was busy slogging through unfamiliar underbrush, so the first few times we were just happy she stopped moving to give us time to catch up. She was clearly expecting more of a reaction, and her face twisted into an irritated pout. (Sense Motive 16+2=18) I added “praise the ghoul’s showboating” to Autopilot’s list of tasks, and went back to studying Sosima’s abilities in the menu.

Her character sheet was odd, as two of her three levels were in the Ghoul class. I couldn’t find that class anywhere in my SRD except as a bestiary entry, but everything clicked into place once I started comparing her to the generic ghoul presented there. Sosima was a normal ghoul, with a diseased bite, paralyzing touch that didn’t affect elves, the same stats as any other ghoul, and all the strange things that came with being an undead, plus one level in a Player Character Class. In this case, Pactmaker.

The Pactmaker class was highly specialized in using the same kind of magic as Plugg: Spirit Binding. Sosima was channeling a spirit called Jacques Gaston, which primarily served to make her a better melee combatant while ruthlessly critiquing her performance. He would reward successful and impressive attacks with a stacking buff to nearly all her rolls, while punishing failure with a penalty. Flashy perfection meant more power, a string of failures would leave her worse off than she was without any spirit at all.

No one snowballs like Gaston. 

Her alignment was Chaotic Evil, which meant she was about as trustworthy as the average demon. That was hopefully just a side effect of her status as a ghoul, but no sane person would willingly team up with her. Luckily I had a split personality terrified of powerful women, and was in no danger of being accused of sanity.

I was a bit surprised to see Sosima was at full health after Sandara’s anti-undead blast, but found an explanation in the “class features” section. Sosima had an ability from Pactmaker that allowed her to siphon energy from her spirit to slightly heal herself several times a day. That ability would prove absolutely vital to her long term health in this party, as all of Sandara’s healing magic would damage the undead and I wasn’t sure if undead could heal from resting.

At the foot of the mountains, the dense overgrowth gave way to hardy weeds growing through small cracks. Large slabs of dark stone covered the ground, forbidding the intrusion of larger trees.

Is this some kind of goddamn video game zone transition, or are we at the foot of an active volcano? Both? Speaking of which, the only time I can recall seeing cliffs like these is in pictures of Scotland. Are islands like this even a thing in the tropics? I genuinely don’t know anything about geology so I’m just going to have to assume it’s fine. 

The scrubby grass was far easier to navigate through, but we were moving at a steep incline so our speed didn’t increase by much. While Autopilot drove, I took in the scenery.

A lush green tangle carpeted the southeast corner of the island, starting at the treeline and ending abruptly at the cliffs. As we climbed above the treetops, I saw the mast of the Man’s Promise only a handful of miles away, and used dancing lights to signal that we were still alive and continuing the mission. We quietly stopped for water several times, looking out through the misty rain and smoke at a surprisingly small island.

Without the ghouls, would anyone have even bothered marking it on a map?

“Voidworm,” I called, “where’s the entrance?”

“Oh it’s right down there.” The protean said, pointing with its tail. “I don’t think they use it much, except to bring the ankhegs their food. Ankhegs are such fascinating creatures, you know. They are obligate carnivores, but only for certain nutrients. They can mostly subsist on plant matter, as long as they consume meat once or twice a month, more during mating season. I think they are particularly fond of tree roots, but that might just be because large root systems interfere with their ability to burrow so it helps them to keep the area clear. I don’t think they do it consciously, just as an evolutionary adaptation.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I said, straining my eyes to look. “Is it that giant pit?”

“Yup! It's about a 30 cubit drop.” The voidworm chirped, “Don’t worry though, they have accessibility options for non-flyers. One of the walls is absolutely covered with rotted rope netting that can easily support the weight of a grindylow!”

“Great.” I said, stretching the word out. “Sounds like we won’t be leaving quickly. The good news is that I can get us down there safely with feather fall. Rosie, you brought rope, right?”

“Of course,” she answered, pulling the end out of her backpack. “You never know when you might need a bit of rope.”

“Wonderful, assuming we have enough.” Syl noted, deadpan, as she sat on a rock.

“If it doesn’t reach the bottom, that still shortens the distance we need to climb the walls.” Sandara pointed out, “I don’t see you carrying a climbing kit.”

“You’d better send the snake to get a head count.” Cog said, his eyes coldly fixed on Sosima, “We can’t risk getting trapped if that means fighting hundreds of enemy combatants.”

I gauged the distance to the hole in the ground, then rubbed my hands together.

“Alright. Worm, scout the enemy.” I ordered, “see if you can find out how many of them are in the caverns and where they are keeping the prisoners, preferably without getting injured or putting them on high alert. Got it?”

“Yes sir, yessir, yazzer, yabber, jabber, gabber,” the voidworm chanted nonsense to himself as he flew away to do my bidding.

“I think it’s time to pull out the big guns,” I said, “I meant metaphorically, Rowe.”

The little goblin had immediately shrugged and started to set up a tripod. She growled low in her throat and shoved it back into her bag.

“Cog makes a good point. We can’t afford to charge in guns blazing, not without something to draw enemy fire.” I said, “I can call something that’ll be very hard to kill, and it can take point. I know you’re willing, Sosima, but I don’t want to risk you. I have plans for you.”

I leaned in close to whisper in her ear.

“If you want to eat the grindylows, I won’t hold it against you.” I told her. “I have every intention of hiring you as a member of my crew, if you’re interested. I’d risk quite a lot for a trained binder, especially one who proved herself capable the day I met her.”

Her eyes widened, then her mouth stretched into a grin just slightly too large for her face. The illusion strained to hide her ghoulish visage, her teeth lengthening into yellowed needles for a fraction of a second.

“Captain, I am honored.” She whispered, “I accept, wholeheartedly.”

“Anyway, stand back and be ready in case this goes poorly.” I commanded, “if we need to kill this thing ourselves we might go visit Ivey after all. I hope it doesn’t come to that.”

I reached down into the depths. The taint of Rovagug, the first denizen of the Abyss, was infused into my being as a drow and guided my magic. It was easy enough to find one of the bottom feeders of the demonic world and drag it forth into the material plane. A wild Dretch, not yet enslaved by any number of demons who might do so, fell through the rift at my feet. I restricted its movements. Any kindness I showed the loathsome creature would be seen as exploitable weakness, nothing more. I would not be seen as weak. 

“Stand, wretch.” I commanded. “I am about to assault a primitive tribe. I don’t believe they have cold iron weapons, nor are they blessed by celestial beings. You may savage the beings known as grindylows with impunity, as well as any other targets I command you to attack. Grindylows resemble goblins with tentacles for legs. You will stop attacking anything I command you not to harm, even if I had previously allowed it. In return, I will find a safe spot where I will leave you, and you may laze about until I have further need of you or your binding expires. Agreed?” 

Opposed Charisma 2+4+2 (blasphemous covenant) + 2 (appealing deal)

Success! 

The dretch glared at me with its piglike eyes for a moment, before it could no longer bear my gaze. It submitted to my power, and just like that, it was mine. I gazed at the squat, pot bellied demon I’d called into the world. It was a short, humanoid creature with greenish gray skin, wicked claws, and a maw full of fangs. The tips of its talons nearly dragged along the ground when its arms hung to its sides, but it usually kept its hands folded in front of its torso furtively. I thanked Besmara for the small loincloth the creature wore, sparing me from knowledge no man was meant to know. The demon flopped onto its ass, leaning back on its hands, and sneered at my companions disdainfully.

https://www.patreon.com/posts/dretches-102775212

I do it. The dretch’s voice was like a blade on a chalkboard, barely comprehensible as speech. It reached my mind without needing to stop at my ears, leaving a prickling sensation in my temples like white hot needles. I kill them. I kill them all. 

I looked at the horizon; the sun was setting.

We’re planning on jumping into an underground cavern to fight an unknown number of nocturnal amphibious psychopaths in their own element, at night no less. This is a terrible idea, but I’d never be able to live with myself if I left these guys to die. 

“Rowe, can you sing? I’m gonna summon Dierdre.” I said, “we’ll need the light.”